The Archangels

Chapter 1

I am destined. But destined for what? 

Father told me I was special. That I was one of the only ones to talk to him personally like I did. That I was one of the only three angels to possess some of his power. Many lower angels looked up to me in awe, wondering how I got to be what I am.

The truth is, I don’t know myself. But I do know one thing:

I am the Messenger.

I am one of the three -well, two- Archangels. Lucifer betrayed us all to create evil, so Michael and I are the only Archangels left. Seeing Luce leave wasn’t really a surprise, yet it still hurt to know he turned his back on us - his brothers. Michael didn’t take it well. He would get angry each time he was brought up, even though he tries to hide it. He fought Luce when he tried to take Father’s place and threw him out in rage. Michael took Luce’s place. I could see he was hurt, but angels aren’t allowed to hurt, or have any feelings for that fact. 

Our emotions had to revolve only around our Father. When His son died we wept. When His son rose we sang in joyous praises. Having any emotion for ourselves was considered prideful and selfish. Many angels have no problem with it… except me.

I feel sad when I see innocent people die. I care for children in neglected, broken homes. I desire for more than my daily routine. I feel… something every time I see Michael. I can’t stop smiling around him. My stomach has butterflies and my mouth goes dry. I feel nervous around him. But he’s my brother. That’s weird, right?

I had to tell Father about these feelings, and I had the perfect time to do it. Every morning I would see Him before I did my daily dues. That would be the time.

My wings spread wide as I flew towards the throne room, streets of gold sparkling beneath me. The large white marble palace stood mightily firm on Heaven’s ground, being the grandest structure for anyone to have laid eyes on. 

I swooped in and landed gracefully on my feet, a few angels greeting me out of respect as I enter. I could sense they were worried about me when they saw my anxiety. That, and I always greet back. It’s common courtesy. But I just couldn’t - I needed to tell Father my secret.

I ascended the stairs hurriedly but stopped at the very top. Each time I saw Father I gasped. His very image sent shivers down my spine. I was told that if Man were to see him on Earth they would die by seeing him. His power and grace was overwhelming to many, but I am used to it. 

I could see a smile form along his lips. “Gabriel, my son, I see you are eager to speak with me this morning.”

I nodded and approached his side, sitting on the arm rest of the throne as I always have.

“Yes, Father, I always am.”

“But I can tell this is different.” He smiled sympathetically. “I know you, Gabriel. You can’t hide anything from me. I made you.”

I gulped. Right, I didn’t think that through.

“Father, there’s something that has been bothering me for centuries that I’d like to confess and repent of.”

His eyebrow rose. “Amuse me.”

I sighed. This would be the time that I wouldn’t stop feeling the burden of guilt. That I am not his perfect Messenger. I could barely get the words out, let alone, string up a comprehensible sentence.

I stuttered, “I… I fee-”

The doors slammed open. Michael stood at the entrance, rage and fury dancing in his dark brown eyes, dark hair damp with sweat, and his body scarred from war. He strode with purpose towards us.

“Excuse my interruption,” He said half-heartedly, “but I have a more pressing matter to discuss.”

His voice deepened in his usual suave, sensual tone. There was always a presence of solemnity within his voice. He never had the bubbly tone he used to have when we New Borns.

I felt relieved that he had come. He saved me from the difficulty of confessing my sins. However, I feel disappointed that I couldn’t lay my burden down, as well as anxious for the news to be said from him.

“Speak.” Father prompted him.

“Five angels disappeared last night. This morning, one of the angels came back, terrified and distraught, with one message ‘The Rising has begun’.” He ran his fingers through his hair. He always did that when he stressed. “His focus is not on the humans anymore. He knows he can’t win that battle alone. Now, he’s going after our own kind as well. He’s getting smarter.”

Father sat back, his ever-changing coloured eyes stared calmly at Michael.

“I made him intelligent. I would be offended if he wasn’t. It would show my creation wasn’t how I intended him to be.” 

He blinked, as if struck on the back of the head. “With all due respect, Father, something must be done. We shan’t focus on menial things, such as how he was made.”

Father chuckled lightly. “Yes, of course.” His expression turned serious. He turned to me. “Gabriel, make a public announcement to the angels. All you need to say is in this parchment.”

He conjured up a rolled parchment, wrapped tightly with a white ribbon. I took it.

“We’ll speak later. For now, Michael and I have much to discuss.”

I nodded and walked towards the doors. As I passed Michael, a small smile crept up along his soft pink lips. It was so brief that if I had blinked I would have missed it. Just for that split second, my stomach went in knots and my breath caught in my throat. Then just as quickly as it came, it left. Not a single trace of it left.

Gripping the parchment I flew out and landed directly on the alter, where announcements were made. I grabbed the ram’s horn and proudly blew into it, signalling for all to gather. 

As angels flew in with white spread wings, I opened the parchment and began to speak.

“Our Almighty God, Father in Heaven, has a message for us. All angels who leave Heaven’s Gates are to travel with a group of ten or more. Recently,” I paused, hating the name I was about to mention, “Satan has taken five innocent angels. One has come back, traumatised and barely coping. Heed this warning, as Lucifer could take you next.”

Angels whispered to each other, stirring at the news. I closed the scroll and lifted off. 

I hated calling Luce Satan. Luce was Luce. I don’t like to think he changed. I will always call him what I’ve known him by.

Call me crazy, but I still believe that deep down inside there is good in him. He can’t just turn his back on everything he knows. I’m almost certain he still at least has some small good side. I just feel it.

Michael would beg to differ but I know my brother. If I could I would see Luce by myself and talk to him. I just miss him.

I landed on my pedestal, curling up tightly.

"I wish you were here." I whisper to myself.