Tryst

Part one.

Several Hundred Thousand Feet Above the Earth

Dumah sat high above the world atop a chair made of ivory. His desk was made out of something opalescent, like pearl. A metronome ticked away on his desk. Around him, his "office" was rather luxurious; birds flittered close to the high, vaulted ceiling and flowers and plants, several long extinct on Earth, bloomed from wide planters. The place enjoyed a great amount of sunlight and sweet fragrance. Beneath his feet was a rug wrought from the hair of virgin angels, the softest material one could ever hope to touch. He was careful not to dirty it with his shoes. The intercom buzzed. He set a finger on the button.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice perfectly eloquent in tune and decibel, like the sound of a flute.
"Sir?" came the voice of his secretary, Jegudiel. "You have a visitor."
"It's Sunday, Jegudiel. The Holy Day. You know that. No. Visitors."
"Sir.... I insist that you see this one, sir. It's dire."
"Who is this that is so important? Is it the Lord himself?"
"It's Tamiel, sir."
Dumah was silent. The metronome ticked away but he noticed that it skipped a beat. The coming of a demon was never pleasant and, much like the archangels themselves, it warped the world around it.
"Send him up," Dumah said.
Across the hall, the elevator beeped and the doors swung open. Tamiel stood there, grinning his crocodile grin. He was a wiry thin man, with powerful arms and facial features. His person was very neat; the skin fresh and clean, the nails manicured and free of any dirt and his clothes, stylish and dark in coloration, were free of wrinkles. Dumah frowned. It was the sin of vanity that fueled those like Tamiel; to appear their best, to be the best looking. But it was also sloth that compelled other demons to forsake a pleasing form or hygiene of any form.
"Tamiel," Dumah said cordially. "What can I do for you?"
Tamiel fingered his ear. "Come on, Dumah. Can't I just want to see an old friend?"
"We are not friends."
"A fellow, then?"
"We are fellows no longer. Why are you here?"
"I'm here to make you an offer. A bet, if you will," Tamiel paced around Dumah and stopped the metronome.
Despite his clean appearance, he was scuffing the carpet and several flowers and fronds withered as he passed. The white desk seemed slightly less clean now that the fallen angel had touched it.
"You have some nerve."
"That I do," Tamiel smiled, reaching under the desk and pulling something free.
It was Dumah's sword, burning with divine light. Tamiel swung it in the air and examined it. He then yelped and dropped it, his fingers smoking.
"How about this? Indulge me this little bet. If you win, I will give you everything you'd want to know about the rest of us and the Big Guy Beneath. Everything he's doing, everything he's going to do, his plans, what not."
"And if you win?" Dumah asked, eyebrow raised.
The sunlight coming through the stained glass faintly died.
"If I win, you're coming back with me."
"Fat chance."
"Maybe you won't feel that way after you hear about the bet I've in mind."
Dumah folded his arms across his chest, checked his watch. "I should throw you out now. But speak before I do so. That way I can say I at least heard you out."
Tamiel shrugged, came from around the desk and stood face-to-face with the angel. They were not so different in their chosen appearances but what was underneath..... they were worlds apart. Dumah worked for the betterment of mankind. Tamiel existed in defiance. He was a disease upon the heavens and the Earth. He worked to make men give in to their natural passions, their lusts, their darker feelings. He, in particular, was the one who taught them of the evils of the world..... and the near infallibility of the angels.
"It's an old, tiring tale. You choose a mortal. I will work against him. Your mortal would be chosen to prove that humans are truly capable of good and all that. If he withstands whatever I throw at him, you win. If he cracks, I win. Sound good?"
"Men have withstood you before."
"See? Practically nothing!"
"What is your angle, Tamiel?" Dumah sighed.
"Nothing. Just a bet to prove whose side is right."
"Simple enough. Fine. I accept. I'll choose someone tonight, then." Dumah said. As Tamiel started to smile, he added: "You do know you are about to lose."
"Whatever. I'll see you later tonight, then!" he said as he made his way back to the elevator. "Oh. You might want to give good old Jegudiel downstairs a new pair of pants. He was pretty scared when I showed up at the door."
"Noted. Now kindly leave."
"Doesn't the risk of a bet get you hot and bothered like it used to, all those years ago? Back when we - "
"Leave."
Tamiel's smile faded when he saw the icy fire of Dumah's eyes locked onto his own. For all of his power, Tamiel was still a guest in heaven and here, Dumah and his fellows reigned, as Tamiel's power waned. He nodded and entered the elevator and was gone.
On the inside, Dumah burned with anger. Tamiel, of all the fallen, disgusted him the most. He was a perversion and delighted in nothing more than corrupting the unwary. The anger made Dumah's head hurt and it took all of his strength to not lash out at him. He recalled the last time that Tamiel was before him, centuries ago, before his fall. Tamiel had nearly corrupted Dumah and that moment of vulnerability filled Dumah with hatred and dread. He trusted Tamiel and he hated himself for it. And worst of all, that trust came in the form of something forbidden amongst the angels; love. Dumah sat himself back at his desk, restarted the metronome and pondered. His old lover appearing here disturbed him greatly and he now had to choose a mortal that could stand against Tamiel's wiles. He put his head in his hands and sighed.
After a moment, he got up, walked into the elevator and descended. It was time to pay a visit to Earth.