It had been as bad as Sariel had thought it would be. Gabriel had been in an incredibly spiteful rage. The usual apologies had not been enough. Still, it was partially her own fault, she knew just how touchy the topic of Lucifer was with Gabriel, she had been known to erupt at the very mention of his name, but she had wanted to prove a point.

It was true after all. Gabriel obsessed over her brother, his defection had done something to her mind. Michael had said when loved ones hurt you their cuts and scars ran much deeper than normal ones. She guessed she understood, but she figured that she and Michael had a different relationship than the one Gabriel and Lucifer had once shared.

She wondered how Gabriel must have felt to have thought peace had finally come to Heaven after the War only to discover that her very own brother was stirring rebellion. And that the rebellion had stripped Heaven of two-thirds of its numbers. She supposed she could sort of understand Gabriel’s obsessive wrath.

After her torturous apology, Gabriel had decided Sariel needed extensive humbling. It was in punishments that Gabriel’s vindictive nature was allowed full control. She had been assigned to cleaning- anything and everything, from the kitchens to the bathrooms to the armoury and library. If the sewers had ever needed cleaning or fixing she felt sure she would have been assigned to that. Thankfully, they did what they did without ever needing maintenance, which was just as well because no one knew how they worked. It would have been most unseemly for streams of sewage to cascade from underneath the Citadel. Though it did leave many unanswered questions.

For Sariel, though, her punishment was more of a relief than anything else. It allowed her to escape the mundane routine of her everyday life. She would be free from being force-fed the books on the history of the War and the Fall, the grimoires on magic she couldn’t learn. Every now and then she’d be given something different if equally boring- books on warfare, agriculture, weapon making, governance, architecture. Though she had to admit while the way it was written was incredibly boring, architecture itself was fascinating.

Now she had access to the library, she doubted that either of them would understand that their punishment would delight her so much. Now she had the freedom to peruse the shelves while cleaning them. She was excited to find out what was contained within them.

But first, she had to report to Mary for the other domestic duties. She knew it would be bathrooms first, before kitchens and once that was all taken care of, she would finally get to be in the library.

As she had expected, Sariel had first been assigned to routine cleaning and maintenance of waste disposal. It was disgusting without the aid of magic, but she didn’t hate it. The other Elders used magic for everything, it was their lifeblood, any that were given these tasks crumbled quickly. She was used to her lack of magic, her physical strength, and stamina probably akin to the many warriors around.

As for the demeaning nature of it, well she was used to the pitying glances of the other Elders. What was one more step down in their eyes? She didn’t care what they thought, but interestingly enough it gave her plenty of contact time with the Lesser and Ascended Angels.

Every day she had to report to Mary in the kitchens before being sent on her way. Every morning she was greeted with a smile and breakfast from her, as well as welcoming smiles from many of the other kitchen staff. They were used to whining Elders and Ascended being sent for humility, but she was no whiner, and she was there far more frequently than any other Angel.

Sariel had learned the most fascinating bits of information about various people around Heaven. Nuriel had had a crush on Raphael for years, Gabriel was on a rampage again, but this time had trashed the throne room when some country had officially separated religion from its government. Even Michael had gone on a rage, fighting every Angel stupid enough to fight with him. His rage was based on homosexual marriage being legalised in yet another country. Ariel continued to haunt across the Angel countries with her Inquisitors, keeping the leash of control tight.

There were rumours about people worshipping the Old Gods again, in ever-increasing numbers. The Hindus continued to deny the Angels’ truth and clung to their dead Gods. One of the saints had accidentally set a city on fire, but it was still under wraps as to who it was. Once again there was talk of sending Jesus or Mohammad for their second comings.

She even heard details of the Surface; the Pope was a weak man, caught between the fractured powers of the Cardinals. The old Israel and Palestine conflict was flaring again. There were fights breaking out in America, Iran, and Pakistan as the Angels’ words were twisted by Humans. She had learnt a lot about the religions the Angels had founded to replace the old debauched religions. She didn’t think that they were any improvement at all.

Every day she was taken down into the bowels of the Palace to scrub dirtied walls, oil and clean magical machines and repaint sigils. It was a long tiring job, but she found the days passed quickly in the company of John. He had been permanently put on these duties after he had called Gabriel a stupid bitch and refused to apologise. He said he was happier out of her glare, and not being made to do unsavoury tasks he found reprehensible.

At the end of her days, Sariel could go back to her rooms, crawl into her bath and allow all the grease and muck to soak away. It was here that her small access of magic was highly useful, cleaning was a breeze no matter how grotty she got. And the time she floated in her bath allowed her to mull over everything she had learnt in her days. Whether it simply be some piece of gossip about an Angel or a more significant piece of gossip about Human politics and religion.

She was learning a lot about the dynamics of Heaven. Michael and Gabriel really did have near-total control. The other Arch Angels except for Azrael always backed them up, as did much of the Council of Elders. Azrael was only really safe because he was the eldest Arch Angel, scared nearly everyone and was absent so frequently because of his duties. The other Archs had a tendency just to let him do his own thing.

Sariel felt guilty, she had never really spent much time with her uncle. Whether it was him always being busy or her never getting around to it, she wasn’t quite sure. Rumour held it that he had never recovered from the loss of his brother, retreating into his death duties as a way to avoid the world around him. She would have to visit him.