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Gabriel put the finishing touches on his latest creation in the sky, the fiery embers of a planetary nebula spreading out from his finger and finding their place in the sky, far away from himself. The Archangel was standing inside a concept known only to those who made it, going by the name Creation. To describe Creation to a mortal mind would be akin to trying to imagine Nothing. Creation existed in a space which didn’t exist and abided by neither the laws of physics nor the laws of time. It was simply a feeling. A place which existed in the mind, where Gabriel and Raphael had created all in the night sky.
The boundary between Creation and Heaven stood firm, untouched and unseen by any eyes other than those which linked to the minds which homed Creation. It was a divide which separated the joyous, harmonic land whereby Angels stayed, and the dark abyss that was Nothing. Creation existed inside Nothing, as to Create anything , one had to start with the blank canvas of Nothing. It was a concept which nobody understood, except those lucky enough to have been shown the understanding by God Herself. To those lucky minds, Creation was as easy to comprehend as the act of talking to one another, and as complex to those who weren’t graced with the knowledge as thinking about what existed before God- which is generally something not recommended to think about.
Whilst creating the entirety of the galaxies, planets, stars and all, Gabriel had never encountered another being other than his own Brother, Raphael. Angels were happy in Heaven, and the only time any being came close to the end of Heaven, and the boundary between it and Nothing, was when they entered Creation. This was why, at this particular pause in Creation, it puzzled Gabriel to see another creature standing at the aforementioned boundary, facing away from him and towards the stars.
Nothing soon ceased being Nothing, as the Archangel found himself standing by the figure’s side, himself now standing at the edge of Heaven, looking into the stars. He appreciated the view, noting the vibrant twinkle that had not been there the last time he had stepped foot in Heaven. He allowed himself a moment to collect his thoughts before he spoke out loud into the void, somehow audible to the figure beside him. (Again, it would be better not to question what you do not understand.)
“What are you doing here?”
They turned around to face Gabriel, if you could define movement in a scene as abstract as they were in. The angel, who Gabriel would later learn was called Ithuriel, bore a striking resemblance to a certain human who would later be called Audrey, and go on to make quite a name for herself. (It is a remarkable thing, but even after he vowed never to enter Creation again, the archangel couldn’t help but to imagine, to remember. And when he did, for long enough and hard enough, his imagination could pop into existence. As it was, this many days after time had started its existence, there are a suspicious number of humans with fiery locks and a cheeky smile, including a notable set of triplets whose parents swear have eyes more gold than green.) Despite this comparison, at this moment, there was nothing that could be compared to them. Long dark hair, the colour of Creation, was piled neatly on top of their head and secured in place with a single blooming twig. They had loved the flowers since they had sprung into existence by their feet, the sweet scent of them filling their nose. (This had been the creation of the fourth sense. If you were curious, they were created in this order: sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. Sight when Her light first reached the angels, touch when Raphael first reached to hold his brother, sound when Her voice carried their names on the wind, scent when Gabriel created the first flower, and taste when Raphael first fell.) How better could they show their love than adorn their body with flowers from head to toe, braided around their neck and tied to their robes, even threaded through the laces of their sandals?
“I was curious.” They spoke in a melodic voice, which to Gabriel seemed to convey a sense of calm. He could sense that there was no element of falsity in their response.
“Curiosity is not something with which Angels are meant to act upon,” he responded, though no spite was attached to his voice. It was as if he was stating a fact rather than reprimanding the Angel. In response, the other Angel shrugged a shoulder, as unfazed by this as could be.
“And yet, you’re here engaging in conversation with me rather than banishing me from this realm. Would it not be deemed Curious for an Archangel such as yourself to question me on the matter?”
Gabriel paused for a second, wondering what the Angel was hoping to achieve by this point, and then he realised that if he was considering motives for this occurrence, he was acting on his own Curiosity once more and tutted at himself in his head.
“If that is the case, then what is a conversation, if not a means of sating one's own Curiosity?” he questioned, looking once more straight at the Angel. Their mouth seemed to turn up slightly at this response.
“Perhaps then we ought to roam Heaven in silence, as is Her will,” they said, and if Gabriel didn’t know better, he would suspect that they were smirking slightly as they spoke.
“We were given voices in this world, and hence we should use them, as is Her will,” he spoke.
“Perhaps Her will is not a set of rules to abide by, but instead gentle guidelines for which we are to bear in mind, while existing.”
There was something altogether different about this meeting with an Angel when compared to any other being he had encountered, and as he was the Archangel Gabriel, he had certainly encountered a few. It may have been the place of meeting, as in a sense, they weren’t exactly meeting each other in person - or perhaps it was something else entirely. (It would take Gabriel another while to figure out the reasons for this peculiarity, and when he realised the reasoning, it would all finally make sense.) Instead of continuing to engage in the questioning of Her opinions on the matter of Angels’ lives, Gabriel decided to steer the conversation away from the topic.
“My name is Gabriel,” he offered.
“I knew that much,” they replied, the gold in their eyelashes catching the light of a faraway star as they turned slightly. “There is nobody in the land who doesn’t know the name of the Archangels, let alone one of the few tasked with Creation.”
Gabriel closed his mouth, then opened it again, pondering a response. He had been hoping that the Angel would return the favour and let him know their own name, but they evidently had not felt the need to. “Yes, well. If you do not have a proper answer as to why you are here, perhaps you would tell me how you got here?”
The Angel smiled wider, as if they were in on a joke that Gabriel had yet to figure out. “I imagine that you might be able to guess the answer to that one, as well.”
“If I could guess the answer, I would hardly need a reason to ask,” he retorted. Despite his response, he was fairly certain of what the angel would answer with.
“I imagine I got here for the same reason you asked me how I got here,” they replied back, confusingly. Gabriel tried to make sense of this response, his brows furrowing as the Angel continued to smile at him. Ah. He mentally sighed.
“Curiosity, then?”
“Now you’re getting it!” they said, and as they spoke, a noise also fell out of their mouth, a sort of melodic tinkling which Gabriel had never heard before. (This was not the first documented ‘laugh’ in Heaven, yet it was the first time an Archangel heard the noise.)
He found himself smiling back in response.
“Ithuriel.”
“What?” Gabriel asked, being pulled from his thoughts all of a sudden. He hadn’t realised that he had been silent for a while (though it might have been less time than he thought, as Time still hadn’t actually been invented.)
“My name,” they repeated patiently as they tucked a piece of hair behind their left ear. Upon doing so, Gabriel could see a tint of gold adorning the tip of their ear, matching the gold in their eyelashes. In the darkness, it looked nice.
“Oh. Ithuriel.” He mulled over this, trying to find anything inside his mind which he attached to the name, and came up with nothing. He had never heard of the Angel before, which wasn’t surprising as, again, there were many, many beings in Heaven.
“I don’t expect you to have heard of me,” they spoke as Gabriel had fallen silent. His smile turned slightly apologetic, but it really didn’t seem as if the Angel cared. They continued speaking as if they were talking about the weather and not themselves. “I’m about as unimportant as an Angel can be.”
“God created each and every Angel with a purpose in mind, as to Her Plan,” he responded, sounding almost like an answering machine. (That is, if they had been invented yet. Which they hadn’t.)
“It's cute,” Ithuriel continued after letting out a quick breath of air from their nose. “That you think She cares about my purpose or that I am involved in any of her Plans.” (Later on, Ithuriel would be screaming and crying for the opposite of this to be true. If only God paid them no attention, if only.)
Gabriel bristled slightly and stood up straighter, his mouth quipping upwards once before settling in a neutral expression. It did not do to comment on anything God did, let alone to assume She didn’t care. God was the being with the most love, more than all of the love in each and every Angel put together. “You mustn’t say that. God loves each and every one of her creations equally; that’s part of her… thing,” he finished lamely.
“Her… thing?” Ithuriel questioned.
“Yes. Her thing, ” he replied stubbornly, trying to look as if he had meant this word rather than the truth, which was that he couldn’t find the right words to end his sentence. He looked over to Ithuriel and saw they had raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”
Instead of replying, something in Ithuriel’s eyes twinkled, and they began to make that noise again. This time, it began quiet but slowly grew louder, spreading across all of their facial features until it reached their eyes, which scrunched up and their mouth opened in a wide grin. Through their slight frown, Gabriel found his own mouth twitching and couldn’t stop it from moving into a smile itself. What was this? Was it infectious? Was Ithuriel playing some sort of trick on him?
Against his will, he soon found himself joining in and surprised himself by letting out a low noise that resonated through his throat, and then he found his mouth splitting into a proper grin, and he felt… really happy? His eyes crinkled slightly, and then he found himself wanting to bend forward slightly because his side was hurting, which brought him back to his original thought. Pain. Was this all a trick, and had he fallen for it? He brought himself to a stop and looked over at Ithuriel, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Why is my side hurting?” he asked accusingly and watched as Ithuriel, too, stopped making the noise. He was confused to see their eyes were slightly wet. Did they feel bad about tricking him? Or did it hurt them as well?
“Your side?” they questioned. “You’re laughing quite loudly; it’s normal for your side to hurt.”
“Laughing?” Gabriel questioned and saw Ithuriel’s grin freeze.
“Yeah, laughing. When you’re happy or find something funny, and you can’t help making that noise?” they explained. “Don’t tell me you’ve never…?”
Gabriel’s face reddened slightly. Was this some common knowledge he didn’t possess? He found himself feeling quite embarrassed in front of this Angel, who seemed shocked about it. He had a thought. “Then why are there tears in your eyes if this has happened because you are happy?”
“Tears?” They reached a hand up to their left eye and wiped it gently, realising they were slightly damp. “Oh. That also happens, sometimes, if you’ve been laughing for a while or find something particularly funny.”
“Right.” Gabriel felt slightly confused but again did not believe the Angel to be lying. (After all, Angels weren’t even allowed to lie.) “Laughing.”
“Yes. You laughed!” Ithuriel spoke, before they broke off into another of the noises - laughter, Gabriel reminded himself. They were laughing. And it sounded nice and made him happy. He supposed he had been wrong to assume it was a trick of sorts. “I just can’t quite believe that the Archangel Gabriel has never laughed before!”
Again, Gabriel found his face turning red in further embarrassment. He didn’t know why Ithiriel was laughing at this - after all, it wasn’t particularly funny that he hadn’t known what laughing was. “It’s not funny. Why are you… laughing, if it’s not funny?”
Ithuriel paused, and shrugged their shoulders. “Sometimes you can’t really help laughter. It just happens, and it’s difficult to get rid of,” they tried to explain.
“Sounds awfully confusing to me,” Gabriel muttered, trying not to let himself laugh again.
“You’ll get used to it, I’m sure.”
“Gabriel, Brother. Are you coming?” A voice spoke out, which Gabriel would recognise anywhere to belong to his brother Raphael. (The Angel wasn’t in Creation, yet his voice had carried through the void to speak to his brother, who was in Creation. Gabriel found himself quite happy that Raphael couldn’t see who he was speaking to, for no reason of which he could currently place.) He had completely forgotten that he had only supposed to stay to finish off one more nebula before joining Raphael back in Heaven, yet he had allowed himself to become thoroughly distracted by the other Angel here.
“Err- yes, Raphael. One more star,” he responded and let his shoulders droop once more as the presence of Raphael’s voice dropped from the Nothing around him. (Without understanding how he knew, Gabriel did know that his Brother was no longer listening to his conversation.)
“Raphael? You better not keep an Archangel waiting for the likes of me.” Ithuriel spoke softly in contrast to the loud noise which Gabriel had heard. (Of course, Ithuriel hadn’t been able to hear Raphael’s voice and only had to surmise what he had said through Gabriel’s response. It evaded their mind as to how any of this worked.)
Gabriel nodded slowly, knowing they were speaking the truth. “Of course. Do you… come here often?”
Ithuriel smiled. “Angel, I am none too sure how I ended up here in the first place,” they spoke, and Gabriel’s face fell slightly. Something inside of him felt that he really would enjoy having a second conversation with this particular Angel and found himself disappointed in the response. “However, I could certainly try to return, if an Archangel such as yourself asks if they will see me again?”
Smiling once more, Gabriel looked back at them. “Then, I suppose I am asking that question.” He nodded, standing and staring at the other Angel for a moment. And then he remembered that he was meant to be leaving, hence he turned his back on the Angel and dematerialised himself to rejoin his Brother, wherever he may be, a weight inside his stomach not leaving as he did so.