Fallen Angel

Chapter 24.2

Some time had passed since Michael's confrontation with Lucifer. Escape was futile, as suspected. Every time he believed to have discovered a way out, he found himself right back in the darkened room with the poppy-shaped hole in the ceiling. He managed to grow his wings, yet gravity always pulled him back before he could reach the light.
Michael tried to reach the unknown Archangel a few times, but whenever he thought he had found them, the connection broke. It infuriated him. He couldn't understand why he didn't share a bond with this Archangel. 
Frustrated, Michael dropped to the floor. Lucifer hadn't bothered putting him in a new trance, but some part of Michael wished he had. He would've forgotten about his imprisonment in the Dream Realm and being stuck in an stuck in an empty room. Still, the loneliness gave him ample time to devise a way to defend himself. 

First, he attempted to summon an object like a weapon, without result. Then he recalled dreams drew from memories. He brought Gabriël to mind. That nearly worked. He saw his friend for thebriefest moment before the figure vanished again. It was a small victory, though. 
Michael wondered how he had tricked Lucifer with that fake memory of his conversation with Joan. Perhaps he needed to be inside the memory to do whatever he had done. But if that was the case, it meant he had to wait until either Lucifer or Morpheus meddled with his mind again, and he was less keen on that prospect. There had to be some way around it.

The Archangel lay down and closed his eyes against the light above. He prayed and wished as he had done before. He let his heart fill with the desire to be anywhere but here. To be with anyone but himself. He willed his mind to think of a place, a person, a thing that could help him. Then he felt something drop near his hand.
Carefully, and with eyes still shut, Michael reached for it. He recognised the shape of the object. And he smelled something. Fresh air. Nature. He was no longer on the cold floor, but on something else. His fingers stroked the ground beneath him — grass! 
Michael opened his eyes. He was in a field, holding a shining red apple. Nearby stood a tree bearing fruit. Not only apples but also pomegranates, pears, oranges... All hung on the highest branches. On the lower ones grew berries and cherries amidst their blooms. Was this... the Tree of Life?

Michael quickly scrambled up and looked around. He believed he saw hills and a stream or river further ahead, but it was unclear. Patches of black floor peeked through the green. He was still in the room, but he had finally managed to bring up a very lifelike image. This was his earliest memory of the paradise known as Eden.
His heart nearly leapt with joy. He leaned back against the tree, gasping at the feel of the callous edges of the bark, and brought the apple to his mouth. The sweet flesh tasted so good, just as he remembered. He didn't know how long this illusion would hold, but he would savour every minute and be at peace for as long as it did. 

Suddenly, Michael sensed something. Someone else was with him. It wasn't Lucifer nor Morpheus (though he couldn't be sure of the latter), so maybe... He dropped the apple into the grass and focused. It was faint, but Michael perceived a voice humming a lullaby. He stepped around the tree.
A little girl of five or six years old sat against the tree trunk, diligently working on a crown of blue, white, and yellow flowers. Her hair was a light chestnut colour and hung loosely around her shoulders. She wore a simple white dress and brown sandals. 
Michael grew suspicious. This place drew from his memories and dreams, yet he was certain he had never met this child before. Was this Lucifer's next trick? He knelt on one knee with enough distance between himself and the girl.

"That is a nice song you are humming," he said. "Is it something your mommy sang to you?"

"Yes," she replied without looking up from her floral crown.