_____They had not been great friends before coming to this world, but now they shared a commonality unique in the world: having served in heaven, they now "ruled" on earth.
_____“Hello, Sabathiel. You look well, as ever.”
_____“Hello, Cassiel.” They sat in dusty old chairs, giving their surroundings little attention. They met here every year on this date. The two of them, alone, atop a lonely desert sentry tower whether they were currently allies or enemies. Sometimes thier conversations were honest and unguarded; other times they were terse and cordial. “How fare the Grigori this season?”
_____“Oh, some trouble with the horse lords of late.” He took a couple of mugs from his pack, and poured ale into them from a bottle, knowing one would sit empty. “They had quite the force gathered at our borders, until their gods convinced them to withdraw.”
_____“Really? I wasn’t aware the Hippus had acquired a religion.”
_____Cassiel held up a Grigorian coin, engraved with a hawk, free in flight. It reflected a glow from his companion. “Oh yes. They worship the small, shiny ones.”
_____Sabathiel laughed. “And you still maintain that men can find their way without divine assistance?”
_____“I thought we’d agreed to disagree. I’m wasting my people’s lives, your ruining yours.”
_____“Call me an optimist—“
_____“A meddler is more like it.”
_____“…but I still think that I can bring you around. A mortal life is, what, 300 years?”
_____“One hundred for men, if they are lucky.”
_____“It is obscene, an intelligent creature with so short a lifetime. What sense is there to their lives, if you deny them their god-given purpose? Like chaff scattered in the wind, here today, gone tomorrow, and barely remembered once gone.”
_____“An object can achieve a purpose apart from, and greater than, that for which its creator has given it.” Cassiel grew more passionate. “And for men, their very brevity inspires their search for their own purpose. They find it themselves, or search hungrily. Your gods give them an easy answer, but an unsatisfying one, for it is better a man to be an architect in his own life than a mere tool in another.”
_____“All this time, still you do not understand my Bannor men. They are not golems, nor walking corpses. They know the goals of our good gods, and have taken upon themselves their own ways to fulfill them. Our tireless crusade enables little nations such as yours to live unperturbed by the grave evils that threaten this fragile world.”
_____“They have taken upon themselves? Or you upon yourself? What would happen to this world without Sabathiel to save it?”
_____“You have no faith in men, after all your time among them?”
_____“On the contrary, it is you who have no faith in men. I alone would give them a chance to prove themselves.”
_____Sabathiel sighed, recognizing the course the conversation was taking, a course that was like a well-worn rut in the road. “We seem to argue more each year.”
_____“It is the way of this age. There are wars and rumors of wars, famines pass the lands like waves and the earth shakes. With more horrors yet to come.”
_____“That sounds like prophecy. I thought you did not believe in prophecy.”
_____“No, I merely distrust prophets. There is a difference.”
_____“Despite what comes, I pray our … friendship remains.”
_____“Then we might as well part ways now. I don’t think your gods like me very much.”
_____“Hmmm? Oh, no, it was a way of speech. I merely… wish it so.”
_____“Well then, I suppose the coming years will have this, at least, to look forward to, for there is nothing I quite respect like Sabathiel’s will.”
_____“The angel smiled and waved aside the compliment. “What is it your say? A person’s life is as he wills it?”
_____Cassiel chuckled. “Maybe it will be I who brings you around. Though to quote me properly, you should precede that line with 'Gods be damned.'”
_____“Not in this lifetime. Be well, Cassiel.” Sabathiel turned away. He walked to the nearest window and leapt out, unfurling wings of light which carried him quickly out of sight.
_____“And you, old friend. Be well.” Cassiel remained, finishing his ale, before starting down the many flights of stairs.
Anyway...
), and I think limiting GP production even further for the Grigori would force that play strategy a little too much.
