White, pink, baby blue, lavender. These are the colors of the thousands of iridescent pearls which climb multiple bars of gold. The bars stand hundreds of yards tall, taller than any skyscraper. In-fact their height doesn’t seem to have an end as they reach into a brightly lit sky and disappear into the masses of white clouds.
Beneath the bars are also clouds, that seem to be the foundation of this mysterious place. The bars seem to rise in the shape of two harps extending out from one another, creating a gate.
A flock of pure white doves fly through the top of the gate, their wings moving in sync as their flutter sounds so sweetly. A single feather falls from the bright sky, ever so graceful in its decent.
The feather flies through the gate as if being carried by an invisible breeze. In its path, it passes angels of various rank in training, they each hold a sword, some parlay with shields, their movements are graceful as if they were sharing a beautiful dance. Their armor is white, tinged and lamented with colors from the rainbow and beyond, each color representing an aspect of their souls.
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Their training takes place within a gilded courtyard, being overlooked by a golden throne sitting high upon a glorious gilded dais.
The throne is huge, much like the golden gate and almost as tall. The king of Heaven sits upon the throne, overlooking his soldiers and their progress.
The lonely feather flits into his lap, as if it has reached its destination. The King of Heaven, God, picks up the feather in his large hand that has been kissed by the sun. The feather seems so small and fragile as it shimmers and glitters away.
“So the dragon is going to loose it’s mate. It’s been a thousand years since the last time this has happened.” He ponders to himself and then he calls one of his soldiers to his side.
This angel is no ordinary angel, his rank is that of the higher choirs. He is responsible for guarding the world of the living. “You called me my Lord?” He asks in a deep melodic voice.
“Yes.” Replies the king, his voice strong like thunder yet gentle like a warm embrace. “I have a mission for our newest Seraphim.”