Consecration of the Engel
March 21.st 2639

The great doors of the dome are opened. Dim, gold-coloured light streams into the great hall, as the michaelitic monachs enter.

Quietly the hosts return to the here and now, heads turn into the direction of the opened portal.
It begins!

The first hosts near the entrance rise to slowly walk out into the early morning. From here, everyone can see the silent mass of spectators framing the huge place before the ancient dome.

The people the Engel will protect. Them and hundreds, thousands of other mortal souls.

Outside, the Sarielites starts the first choir of the young day, Ashviel silently chiming in. She slowly rises, hands extended to her sides, her eyes locked on the open portal.

Calahel gazes at the opening enormous doors and at the sight that is revealing itself to him. He catches his breath and then with a happy smile mixed with pride he comes to his feet and looks in the round of his host, completely speechless.

Ronariel slowly stands up with his face toward the opening gate. His heartbeat rises and he breathes deeply the cold morning air streaming in through the opened gate. Now the moment is near, he thinks. Now I'm going to really be called Engel and the others of my order no longer could tease me for being this old and only an novice.Than he stands upright with pride in his eyes and waits for the others and the moment when it is time for them to stride through the gate.

As the doors opens, Thommariel stands up with a smile and a starry-eyed. He had waited long for that day and now he looks happy. He takes a look to the other Engel of his host, waits until all are ready to walking out.

Egriel rises slowly, shifting his wings as he balances himself in doing so. He is solemn about the whole ceremony, but after noting the eager looks on the faces of his comrades, the edges of his mouth raise slightly in a barely-noticeable grin.

He, too, awaits for the other Engel before proceeding.

Phinael rises, struggling for her balance and extending her wings in doing so. Inadvertedly, she slaps her primary feathers against the backs of two of her hostbrothers and mumbles an excuse. She doesn't look really awake and welcomes Ashviel's outstretched arm to steady her.

"Uh, something happening?" She blinks to the open portal where the Engel start to walk out of the ancient dome. "Uh, I see," she answers herself. "Show's proceeding. Let's got, then." Stifling a huge yawn, she trotts out between the other members of her host, gently shaking off Ashviel's helping hand. "I'm well, and I'm awake," she says, grinning over her shoulder. "But thanks, Ashviel."

The Sarielite nods, grinning with excitement as the others.

Outside, the crowd forms a multi-bodied tunnel through which you have to walk. Some daring individuals bend close, trying to touch your wingtips, even wanting to snatch up a loose feather for a lucky charm for their homes and families. Phinael's half extended right wing nearly gets caught in the grasping hands of an infant, and she carefully loosens it while a small, downy feather, not bigger than the palm of a grown man, stays in the hands of the child. The mothers gives a small, startled exclamation while retrieving her little daughter who holds up her trophy, squealing and beaming with delight.

Phinael smiles at mother and child while proceeding with the rest towards the huge place before the dome. There, they all wait. The Pontifex, soon to come, on a simple pedestal, adorned with banners of all angelic orders. The cardinals and bishops, and the singing choir of Sarielites. Ashviel cranes her neck, waving at familar faces in the mass, singing along with the rest of the heavenly choir.

Ronariel follows the others through the gate in to the morning light. Now suddenly he realizes the amount of souls that waits outside for the Engel to come through the gate . Ronariel's heartbeat rises again, his heart seams to explode in his chest and his feathers rustle. For a moment he seams to be frightened of all the hands that will touch him before they are reaching the place in front of the cathetral. Now Ronariel looks at the ground and remembers what he was told :"Engel never have fear " with that thought in mind he looks up with a proud and serious face and walks towards the place where they've been told to kneel down and wait until their names are called.

*

Egriel follows the others in silent contemplation. As he notices the line of mortal spectators reaching out, he slowly shifts his location so that he walks next to Carniel, positioning him so that Carniel is between him and the nearest group of on-lookers. He nods to the black-garbed Gabrielite, his eyes glimmering with faint amusement.

People know better than to pluck feathers from a Gabrielite. he thinks, smiling to himself.

Like the others Carniel walks on the side of his host out of the place where they had meditated. He moves a bit to the side to make room for Egriel. Does Egriel fear something? Mhm.. whatever, it is my task.. no, it is the task of my order to protect him from whatever it is.. even if it are these people.., Carniel thinks as Egriel nods to him.

Then Carniel watches the people around them... the whole masses of new hosts and the humans.. and he realized that he is about to see the Pontifex Maximus.. the personification of God himself on the earth. Suddenly Carniel becomes nervous...

Thommariel stands outside with the other members of his host. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then he whispers another prayer.

Then, ordered by hosts, you all kneel down in front of the podium, leaving a broad alley in the middle to the free space in front of the podium.

The ceremony begins with a procession towards the simple throne. The Pontifex walks, barefooted and clad in a simple white, gold-trimmed tunic, towards the podium, mounts the steps and takes a seat. You can all see him now, as the first rays of the sun seem to guild his figure. Not taller than most of you, not older than most of you. He smiles, his face nearly indiscernible in the bright, golden light.

And then, the choir falls silent. Not even the daring parrots along the big alley are heard, even as they themselves feel that this is a very special moment.

A monach steps forward, a simple votiv ribbon in his hands.
The Pontifex calls out the first Engel's name.

"Maduriel!"
A dainty Michaelite rises and nearly stumbles over her long skirts. She is tiny, almost too small. You can see her hurrying toward the monach, red-faced with excitement, then straightening herself to walk gravely for the last few meters.

Then, the monach winds the ribbon around her left arm, deftly securing the fabric with practiced motions around her wrist. He also places a blessing hand on her shock of reddish, blonde hair.

The Pontifex raises a hand in blessing, as she draws back to an empty place where she waits, standing upright, eyes gleaming.

*

So this is the Pontifex Maximus Himself Egriel observes as he awaits among his other host-mates for his name to be called. He glances to his side, noticing the eagerness amongst his bretheren. In contrast, he is calm, but curious about the procedures to come.

*

One by one, the names of the Engel are called. And there are so many names that your head starts to swim.

Host by host, member by member, they are blessed, consecrated and given their very first ribbon.
Then, starting with Thommariel around midday, the monach turns to your host and calls out: "The michaelite Thommariel!"

Ashviel grins broadly. "Now, there we go," she says softly, nearly unheard in the singing choir of Sarielites.
She looks over to the growing group of already conscrated Engel and readies herself to rise.

The monach waits, the ribbon in his hands. Behind him, novices prepare the ribbons for the rest of the host.
Thommariel nods slowly to the members of its host, then he walks toward the waiting monach. He smiles a bit.

Now the time has come. The Monach calls his name, and in his ears the voice of the monach sounds like thunder. Ronariel's eyes get wide and round with a little bit of panic in it. He stands up as if he were pulled by strings; again he has to fight against his fear and it takes all of his courage to stand upright and walk towards the monach who awaits with the ribbon . After the Pontifex spoke the blessing over Ronariel he feels even prouder, and he thinks he coudn't be more prepared for the missions that he and the others of his host have to solve for the good and sake af the Angelic Church.

As his name is called, Egriel walks up to the monach and solemnly receives his ribbon. After the ribbon is secured on his tattooed left arm, a genuine smile spreads across his face as he joins the ribboned ranks of his host. Once there, he succumbs to the urge of examining the ribbon, glancing over the etched symbols.

*

One by one, the Engel step towards the monach and are adorned with the Engels' first ribbon, wound around the left arm.

After the final blessing, you are guided towards the growing group of excited Engel at the other side of the place.

A lot of smiling faces are to be seen there.

The sense of joy is nearly substantial here.

They barely notive the passage of time, only note the arrival of more Engel.

At sunset, you all rise as one, flying up to the sky. Even the weakest flyer suddenly finds the strength to take off the ground with one big leap.

Below you, the dizzying, cheering crowd raises hands and arms. Lucky souls may catch a drifting feather from a wing, securing him and his family the benevolence of the Lord for one full year.

You rise as a giant swarm of wings and bodies, over the Eternal City, towards the Himmel of the Michaelites where the last stage of the ceremony awaits you: the big and more private celebration amongst the Engel themselves. One last night for you all to celebrate, and enjoy the comfort and luxuruy of this Himmel.

Great, lighted halls await you, fragrant food and, finally, after a few more hours, the well-earned rest for this day...