Cherub.

14

Damaged goods?

Is that what Angelo was?

A person regarded as inadequate or impaired in some way.

"Maybe I'm a fool," The cherub sighed.

"Have you ever heard the saying that goes 'Every man is a divinity in disguise, a god playing the fool'?" A mellow voice questioned. The angel shrugged off the question.

It was like Cassiel knew where to find him. After stumbling across the cherub crying as he aimlessly walked through vacant sidewalks, she urged him to follow her home. I could feel you. Even miles away, she told him. A wounded angel is never hard to miss.

"Sorry," Cassiel added. "I tend to read a lot in my free time." Angelo shrugged again, finding himself sinking deeper into the woman's bed.

"I don't have much longer before I'm a fallen. I've stayed so long for him and he...he–"

"He gave up."

"Yes." Tears blurred his vision. He wiped at his eyes, confused at how easily emotions took over...still. Cassiel wiped a stray tear as she snuggled closer to the angel. "I've turned my back on God for a love that is meaningless. A mortal could never fulfill me." His choppy breathing and watery eyes remained as he sat, unmoving.

"Nonsense." Cassiel spat. "A love from a mortal is the most tender cushion after a heaping fall. We are loved without force or coercion—they don't love us because we are servants of heaven. They love us because they can and that is the most beautiful love of all. You have a right to cry." Cassiel or Kafziel, an archangel, had fallen. The woman was merely a folk tale these days—she had been on earth for centuries and though her divinity was down to its last drop, her true form still vibrated beneath the skin as if she had fell the previous night and her phantom wings created a shadow that even a mortal could see. She was a God on Earth and Angelo could tell she wasn't your average demon or angel. She was the Angel Of Tears.

Kafziel was once the ruling prince of the Seventh Heaven. The Seventh Heaven is where God sits on his throne. Kafziel watched the goings-on of the universe without interference for eons—then he vanished. Never to be seen, heard or talked about again.

Until now.

"I fell for a human." Kafziel admitted. Angelo's eyes widened and his lips parted in disbelief at such a confession. How could Kafziel, one of God's chosen, do such a foolish thing? "So I guess that means I am a much bigger fool than you could ever be. You fell out of curiosity and found love. I fell for love and lost it all." Her eyes, now glossy, locked with Angelo's. "When I pray, he doesn't even answer me." She whispered as she blinked away forming tears. Angelo could feel her skin vibrating. "Father has turned his back on me." He squeezed her, hoping to keep her within her flesh.

"Your fall...how?"

"I fell for a woman at her lowest." She began. Cassiel was the patron angel of all manner of overlooked people, or those in weakened states. She took watch over orphan children and the enslaved, the poor and downtrodden, the oppressed, and those who had been unjustly persecuted. Cassiel's influence could be felt when someone was at their lowest ebb. When an orphan feels there is no future, he would whisper that they were not alone. When a parent loses a child and cannot see beyond the tears, Cassiel will intercede to help wipe them away so they may see to the next day. And when a person feels there is nothing left to live for, Cassiel lifts them and bears them forward.

As a flawed species, mankind needed the love and support of Cassiel. God knew this. So he was sent to shoulder the burdens for mortals until they could carry themselves again. "She was a poor woman. A begger and a swindler but I watched her. She grew up as an orphan, tainted by the touch of foul men and cold women." She formed a frown at the memory. "I was ashamed at my curiosity. I always watched her, even when I was no longer needed. She grew to be greater than a prostitute and thief—she became a business woman, and a mother. Her husband died at war and I happily comforted her through her grief."

"And?"

"I fell. I only went for a peek but then I fell."

"Did you get the woman?"

"Yes. I ran straight to her, foolishly. Naked, cold, filthy. And she let me stay—she mistook me for some kind of beggar and took pity upon me." Her smile now looked painted on, her eyes mirrored a painful expression. "And eventually, like two fools, we fell in love."

"Where is she?" Angelo reminded her of a child. His innocence and spirit of inquiry.

"Oh, poor Angelo," She cupped his cheeks. "This was a love from long ago—She is long gone. Ripped from me by disease," She sucked in air as if she was physically pained after stating this. "I was devastated but it made me understand." Cassiel breathed. "I finally understood why the mortals dropped to their knees at such news or lied in bed for several days after losing loved ones. It hurts and it consumes you—divinity never prepares you for the emotions of a human. I don't think we were ever meant to understand; that's why we feel so deeply. I'd even thought about going back home."

"Why didn't you?"

"Her daughter—I raised her as my own. My love, Clara, was barren after her birth but I took her child as my own. And stayed with her. I thought the love from her mother was enough to shake me but this, this love I had for the child was what really made me let go of my wings. I couldn't leave her."

"Does it still hurt? To think about Clara?" Angelo whispered. The mention of grief made him think about Kahlo.

"I can't remember a time where my flesh didn't try to crawl away from the memories of her. All these years and my heart still feels like it's being ripped away from me. Every. Single Morning."

Angelo rubbed the woman's back in soothing circles. "And what happened after you took the girl in?" He urged, as if he were being told a bedtime story. Cassiel only chuckled in response.

"Like all good things, it had to come to an end. My Rose, my sweet baby girl, had aged and God is stingy. These souls were always on borrowed time."

"What was she like?"

"Mortals haven't come up with a word for how beautiful her soul was. My last wish as an Archangel was for God to grant her both a peaceful life and a peaceful death. He granted me both then stripped me of my divinity. And I happily rid myself of my wings."

"But—"

"Despite only having one, I lost my heart twice; their lives ended in the 1800s and I have yet to feel again. That is enough with the stories." She sat up, numb from these painful reminders.

"What should I do about Gemini?" Angelo finally asked.

"Angelo, it is better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all. Go home."