The Archangel's Search

"Or I am mad, or else this is a dream." - Twelfth Night

Michael

Michael sat against the cold stone of the prison wall in the darkness, worried as to what was happening to his wife. The guards had already cleaned up the demonic remains that Seraphina left behind but an ominous feeling remained, like she was being doomed. A woof of air disturbed his peace, and thinking that it may be Lucifer, Michael kept his head down.

"Lord Michael", called an urgent voice that belonged to a being that he hadn't seen since the plague of Egypt. Michael looked up to see an old man wearing tweed suite with shiny brown shoes to match. It was Death himself and the only indicated that it was him was the old staff he held in one hand and a gold watch used to count down the minutes to a person's death tucked in his pocket.

At the time of the plague, Death wore a black robe, which gave him an ominous appearance and made cutting the souls from their dying body harder. Humans did not cope well when Death looked like a slimy old man in black cloaks. They would try to wave Death off and it made Death reflect on his approach. Since then, Death had been trying to look approachable by dressing like a monk, priest, a man-of-business, a coach driver and at the present, a posh Londoner.

"My lord", he called in a frantic whisper.

Michael hurried over and grunted his hello. Death looked at him oddly and asked, "Something happened to your voice?"

In response, Michael rolled his eyes in annoyance and tried to explain but Death, being a rather daft old man didn't get it. Instead, he waved over his magic on Michael and speech came to him temporarily.

"Lucifer took our voices", Michael said quickly.

"Why?" Death questioned while he scratched his hair. "Why are you here? Everyone is looking for you and demons are taking over the place. I was approached during my work but I escaped. They wanted me to work for them."

"I followed one of my recruiters, if you want to call them that", Death continued as if they were having a spot of tea. "They entered the Underworld, which I thought was strange and it was heavily guarded, which I thought was stranger because people tend to avoid this place.

"I then entered it while under my invisibility cloak, of course and across the lake, I saw Lady Seraphina sitting on the roof of the boathouse. She was dressed in black, which I knew was NOT your colour, sir, and I wondered why had she changed. Probably just trying something new, I thought at first then I asked myself, why would she be in the Underworld", Death then smiled. "Then I said to myself, if she was here then so are you."

Once finished, Death looked smugly at Michael, waiting for some kind of a congratulations but Michael only looked at Death annoyingly and pointed at his throat for the spell had already faded away. Death looked apologetically at Michael before he sent over a wind of magic.

Quite quickly, Michael explained everything from his brainwashed wife to Lucifer's works. Death listened intently and adjusted his magic when Michael's voice started to crack.

"We have to do something", Death finally said. "We need you up there."

"I know", Michael answered hoarsely. "But I'm not leaving without my wife." At that, Death nodded his understanding. "What's happening up there?"

"I don't know", said Death. "The place seems deserted and I held cheering in the distance in what looked like a Colosseum." That news caused Michael to pale. "I should help you escape now and get out of here."

"NO", Michael said. "I'm not leaving without Seraphina and if Lucifer finds out that I'm gone, there's no knowing what he will do with Seraphina and the other half-gods. His brainwashing is working and every time I see her, Seraphina is losing her memory of me."