Holy Palace of the Wise

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

Lord Seraphiel, Angel of Song, of Right, of Just, of Power, of Purity, entered the library. Normally, such a pure presence, a definition such as him, would easily be sense. But he masked his presence. There was another here. One who was not "invited." Seraphiel did not want this one to be killed. No. This one was a Dominion, worth more than the average angel. Heaven could not spare to loose such a powerful warlord, not this close to the final battle. No. No, no, no. He seemed to fade through bookshelves, silently. His feet making no noise. He continued to walk. Slowly yet switfly. Seraphiel opened up his mind. Normally, he taught everybody to close theirs. But he knew that the best defense against other minds is to have an open one yourself, to sense what is around you. He began to prod the mind of the Dominion. There was no gaurd up. None at all. But there was nothing here... Nothing... Until- he felt the sharp pain rapture through the Dominion's brain. Lost love, pain, fire, sadness. It was then, when he walked into the area that the Dominion was located. Seraphiel scanned him from the shadows, his mind calculating the identity of this blank dominion. Dominion of the Night, he thought. One who has no mind as well, this could be beneficial... It was now, that Seraphiel spoke, The information here, he said, is limited. If you honestly wish to find something with a better quench of your thirst, come with me.... Night.... He did not grant his name, mystery was best here... Let us see how curious this angel is...  

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

Smiling fiendishly, like he always does, Seraphiel turned around and headed for the exit to his main room. He did not say a word. None at all. He expected the Dominion to follow him without question. Into the main hall they walked. Past the fountain. The fountain with the words,"a servant of one but a servant of many i am for i am the will of god and of his people, wut his will is i do and what his peoples will is i also do, for the will of god is the will of his people..." engraved into it.... The scent was marvelous, the air... So clean, and pure... Serene... Beautiful... Beauty... He contineud to walk, at a brisk yet leisure pace. To the middle door of the three. Walking. Walking. Walking. When they entered the door, the first thing one would notice is that there was no light. none at all. The light from outside of the door would not enter. But Lord Seraphiel payed no mind to this. he stepped forward. Underneath his foot, a glowing white step appeared. Floating there. As if suspended by magic. He stepped up, and took another step. Another step appeared. Glowing. But as he took his foot from the first step, it dissappeared... Like magic... He continued to walk, expecting the Dominion to follow. They climbed together. It seemed to be forever, never ending... But when they arrived at the top of the stairs, it felt as if the time had whizzed by... Seraphiel walked out of the door. Into a new room. A hallway. But at the end are doors. Doors of magnificence. They opened at the gesture of Seraphiel's hand. He walked in. Still silent. Still expecting the Dominion to follow. He sat down. Behind the desk. Leaning back. His leg propped on the other leg. His elbows propped up upon the arms of his platinum chair, his fingers infront of his eyes, slightly crossed. So much was in this room. So many artifacts. Power resonated here, it radiated. So much. So much. So much. The books... Something about them... Power... Insanity... Forbidden... To all but the highest. Seraphiel nodded to a seat before his desk, wishing for the Dominion to sit. And so he waited for the reaction he would recieve...  

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

The lips of Lord Seraphiel curled into a merthless smile. A few seconds passed, but the cruel smile remained. Then, he alas spoke, Such informality coming from a Dominion... It is so obvious what you have become. He nodded with a kindhearted smile towards Phoenix, thank you dear, he said as he took the tea and tasted a sip. After he set it down, he continued, Dominion, the word Seraphim is plural in form. Seraph, if anything, is the correct termonology. Singular. My name, however, is Seraphiel, Angel of Choir, Song, Justice, Right, and Purity. The last word he spoke had more emphasis behind it, to show dominance. But what, he inquired, do we have here...? He was of course, refering to the Dominion. Dominion of the Night.... Bemusing...  

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

Mirth returning to his face at the mention of nobility. Nobility you say? He asked retorically, Ahahahaha! Nobility is a title, one reserved to those with evident ties to an ancestor that is registered as one of The Ancients. The Ancients, of course being the first angels created. Nobility, you say... I guess that can be refered to this one... Being one of the first five angels born, all at the same time.... Ahahahaha.... This was the first time that Seraphiel had actualy given hint to his true origins. Well, to the Dominion at least... With this information, one can derive Seraphiel to be one of the four remaining lords. And from his name... Well, the rest is obvious. Now, he stated, we have to figure out what you are... You are a Dominion... That much is obvious... But you have no memories.... You represent a great weapon, yet a dangerous tool.... With your lack of memories, I can build upon you, from scratch, and still have the extrodinary amount of room that is usual for such angels of your caliber. But it could also turn on me.... His finger twitched, purposely... A book from behind him, from the center of the shelf, came down. It was rather small, but not too small. Dark blue. Gold embrodiery. He opened it, his eyes skimming the pages. He seemed to be waiting for the Dominion to make a retort, expected...  

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

The book is a book, is it not? He said rather anonomously. Devoid of emotion. You are full of questions, I can see. So full of questions... Its rather boring. He snapped his fingers. At once, a babboon headed human figure, dressed in a tuxedo and a monacle, pewfed to existance in front of everybody. He held before him a package bound in silk, the silk was an ethreal white. Seraphiel opened the package, letting he silk fall to the ground where it evaporated. In his hands was a piece of literature... Leather bound. Black. But faded. It was larger than the diary that Seraphiel had claimed to be that of Lucifer. But it was of the same age... An evil aura seemed to come out of it. He looked up at the angel, standing up in the process, do you know what this is?