"Death Angel"

Prologue

            Everyone knew him as Michael, but his true path was that of death not the savior he was named after. He lived in post-apocalyptic America, and he held the future of his friends in his hand. His heart contains a never ending flame of power, courage, and strength. His home used to be small and peaceful before his father reappeared. Now, only the jutted shapes of mountains were scattered across the horizon.

His mother had died when he was born, but his dad was a different subject. He hadn't seen him since he disappeared without a trace. The other family members he knew where his Uncles Michael and Lucifer. They were the ones that had given him his swords. Although he knew his family, all he had left were his swords, his friends, and Aurora.

Aurora was a wind elemental that preferred being staying out of sight like if she were air itself. She was like his mother, and she was willing to sacrifice her life for him if the situation required it. She was a quiet and beautiful woman that only appeared to Michael when he needed her most.

            His home was plain compared to what it had been before the last war. The windows were shattered and a pale, dusty yellow. The walls were in no better shape, and every once in a while you would see a hole bigger than a full grown man. They had once been a pearl white, but now they were an unending black.

            His city had once been a beautiful metropolis, but it was all gone. Now, only the remains of buildings and decomposing plants were left. The world had been left in complete ruins. Paradise turned to hell when the ambition for peace and unity was lost. In the end, war had pitted brother against brother, and that ended what many great men had worked so hard to bring together. Now it seems that nothing can fix what seems broken or find what seems lost.

Chapter 1

It was all in turmoil, and Michael couldn’t do anything about it. His powers and swords had just vanished before death arrived, and there was nothing he could do to help his friends. They lay right in front of him and he couldn’t stop their pain. Their eyes rolled back in there sockets, and without his swords he couldn’t heal. It was his dad’s fault, he was also known as the Angel Azreal.

With a silent cry, he awoke and looked toward his wall where his swords hung. He knew too damn well that dreams like those meant trouble. Each one he had always ended up coming true sooner or later. The first one had warned about the swords, and he hadn’t listened. This time he wasn’t going to make the same mistake.

“I hope that I can change everything this time.” He prayed silently.

Out of nowhere a womanly voice responded. “You can do what you set your mind to Michael.”

“Thanks for your support Aurora. You have been my guiding Angel.” He said to the voice.

Her last words were, “And you mine my dear child.”

With Aurora’s last words fresh on his mind he walked over to his swords. It seemed like so long ago when his uncles had given them to him. The black one was Death like his father, and the white one was life. They were simple swords when he didn’t channel his power through them. Both of them were arm’s length and the hilts were decorated with Topaz gems due to the month of his birth.

They were always with him at all times, even when he knew they weren’t necessary. The white sword favored his right hand and the black one his left. He felt his heat intensify as he reached for the swords, but before he could reach them his friend Mia walked in.

Mia was a beautiful slender but curvy girl with long, curly hair that flowed in wind as if it were dancing. She loved Michael more than a friend, and they had even shared a kiss. The problem was that he was always trying to save someone or practicing with those swords of his. She knew him better than anybody, and she was like a diary that kept him from falling into an abyss of solitude.

“Where are you going?” she pondered.

With a soft and caring smile he answered, “Nowhere, I just woke up and I need to shower.”

With surprising speed she reached for his swords and with soft whisper she asked, “Then why were you reaching for these again?”

“I was just examining them.” He answered.

“We were supposed to talk about what your father told you, don’t you remember?” She asked.