Fallen Angel

Chapter 8.1

Michael sat at the wooden table in Peter's fisherman's hut, waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for taking so long to see the old man. Peter was a sage advisor, giving help to all whom asked for it. The Lord Protector sorely needed that advice now.
While Michael waited, he replayed the events of the past weeks in his mind. Was there ever a moment that he could have averted all the misfortune? Could he have stopped the attack at the Gates? Should he put Gabriël through the torture of being cleansed by Heaven's Fire just to cast out the demon within? Had he been too harsh towards Joan? Had he not been harsh enough?

"So lost in thoughts. Careful, Michael, you may not find your way back." The sudden sound of Peter's voice startled Michael, prompting the old man to offer a kind smile. "What is troubling you, my son?"

Son... Only Peter would call him that. Archangels had no family. They were created out of light, not born. Even though they had all been brought into existence together, they did not call each other 'brother' or 'sister' (though there were one or two exceptions). If Michael really had to call someone 'father,' perhaps God could take on that role. That simple word held so much meaning to every soul that had ever lived, but none to an Archangel. Yet, it warmed Michael's heart to even be considered a son by someone as gentle as Peter.

"I fear I have reached an impasse." Michael sighed. "I do not know what to do anymore."

"So you come to an old man for advice. A desperate move indeed."

Michael smiled weakly at the comment, and then said, "Gabriël's situation is not improving. Raphael discovered demon blood was in the poison Borgia used on his blade. It's extremely powerful and resistant to anything Raphael resorts to."

"Have you considered Heaven's Fire?" inquired Peter.

"I have. But I fear the effect it will have on Gabriël. He has never been one of the strongest Archangels. It may not kill him, but it will cause significant pain, especially if the darkness is rooted within him. So much that he may never recover."

"I do not share your concern with this. Gabriël is a lot stronger than you give him credit for. Yet his is a strength that comes from the heart, not the body. Michael," Peter paused a moment, "forgive me; I know I should not mention him to you, but... have you considered the possibility that it might be...?"

The unspoken name lingered between them. Michael shook his head, dismissing the notion Peter put forward.

"You know very well he is gone, Peter. The darkness corrupted him completely, and Heaven's Fire destroyed him. Even if, by some cruel twist of fate, it was him, that would not explain why I cannot help Gabriël."

"What do you mean?" asked Peter.

"His wound opened a few times since the attack," explained Michael. "It brought him to the brink of death, despite the antidote. Raphael told me I was to give Gabriël my blood, as I am first among the Archangels and possess more potent healing abilities. But mine does nothing to aid him. Only Joan's blood has helped so far."

"Joan? A mere angel? You don't say..."

"Why do you say it like that?" Michael's brow furrowed. "Do you know something?"

"Me? Nothing," the old man blurted. "Should I?"

"Peter, please. I am trying to save them both, despite what some may think. But if they have violated the rules, then I have no choice. This cannot go any further."

The old man sighed and leaned in as if he wanted to keep the discussion private.

"Gabriël approached me a very long time ago to ask for advice, as you are now," he admitted. "He was conflicted. I will not repeat what we discussed, for I will not betray his trust. Just know that, should Gabriël need... a witness, I will speak on his behalf."