Angelology(73)

portion of the lecture. And so I placed my hand upon her arm and smiled, to let her know that I was

sorry. My gesture was met with hostility. Gabriella pulled away, refusing even to look at me. Leaning

back in the hard wooden chair, she crossed her legs and waited for Dr. Raphael to begin.

During my first months of study, I learned that there were two distinct sets of opinions regarding the

Valkos. Most students adored them. Drawn in by the Valkos’ wit, their arcane knowledge, and their

dedication to pedagogy, these students hung upon their every word. I, along with the majority,

belonged to this group. A minority of our peers remained less adoring. They found the Valkos’

methods suspect and their joint lectures pretentious. Although Gabriella would never allow herself to

be categorized with either lot, and had never confessed how she felt about Dr. Raphael and Dr.

Seraphina’s lectures, I suspected that she was critical of the Valkos, just as her uncle had been in the

assembly gathered at the Athenaeum. The Valkos were outsiders who had worked their way to the top

of the academy, while Gabriella’s family position gave her instant rank. I had often listened to

Gabriella’s opinions about our teachers, and I knew that her ideas often diverged from the Valkos’.

Dr. Raphael tapped the edge of the podium to quiet the room and began his lecture.

“The origins of the First Angelic Cataclysm are often contested,” he began. “In fact, looking over

the various accounts of this cataclysmic battle in our own collection, I found thirty-nine conflicting

theories about just how it began and how it ended. As most of you know, scholarly methods for

dissecting historical events of this nature have changed, evolved—some would say devolved—and so

I will be frank with you: My method, like that of my wife, has changed over time to include multiple

historical perspectives. Our readings of texts, and the narratives we create from fragmentary material,

reflect our larger goals. Of course, as future scholars, you will draw your own theories about the First

Angelic Cataclysm. If we have succeeded, you will leave this lecture with the kernel of doubt that

inspires individual and original research. Listen carefully, then. Believe and doubt, accept and

dismiss, transcribe and revise all that you learn here today. In this way the future of angelological

scholarship will be sound.”

Dr. Raphael held a leather-bound volume in his hands. He opened it and, his voice steady and

serious, began his lecture:

“High in the mountains, under a ledge that sheltered them from the rain, the Nephilim stood

together, begging guidance from the daughters of Semjaza and the sons of Azazel, whom they

considered to be their leaders after the Watchers had been taken below the earth. Azazel’s eldest son

stepped forward and addressed the endless crowd of pale giants filling the valley below.

“He said, ‘My father taught us the secrets of warfare. He taught us to use a sword and knife, to

fashion arrows, to wage war upon our enemies. He did not teach us to protect ourselves from heaven.

Soon we will be trapped on all sides by water. Even with our strength and our numbers, it is

impossible to build a vessel like Noah’s. It is equally impossible to directly attack Noah and take his

craft. The archangels are watching over Noah and his family.’

“It was well known that Noah had three sons and that these sons had been chosen to assist in

maintaining his Ark. Azazel’s son announced that he would go to the seashore where Noah was

loading his boat with animals and plants, and there he would discern a way to infiltrate the Ark.

Bringing along their most powerful sorceress, the eldest daughter of Semjaza, he left the Nephilim,

saying, ‘My brothers and sisters, you must remain here, at the highest point of the mountain. It is

possible that the waters will not rise to this height.’

“Together the son of Azazel and the daughter of Semjaza walked down the steep mountain path

through the relentless rain, making their way to the shore. At the Black Sea, all was chaos. Noah had

warned of the Flood for many months, but his countrymen did not pay attention in the least. They

carried on with feasting and dancing and sleeping, happy in the face of utter destruction. They laughed

at Noah, and some of them even stood near Noah’s Ark, jeering as he brought food and water aboard.

“For some days Azazel’s son and Semjaza’s daughter watched the comings and goings of Noah’s

sons. They were called Shem, Ham, and Japheth, each very different from the others. Shem, the

eldest, was dark-haired and green-eyed, with elegant hands and a brilliant way of speaking; Ham was

darker than Shem, with large brown eyes, great strength, and good sense; Japheth had fair skin, blond