Arc Angelical Series : Michaels Story, Archangel of Protection

Mission

Michael's sudden pained exclamation pierced through the once comfortable silence. The golden aura around him was quickly fading, as was the luminant glimmer that once adorned his skin and eyes.

The archangel was gone yet again. The divine light was gone leaving the archangel in human form. Yet, three things remained that gestured at his true soul.

The unnatural golden eyes were the main giveaway. Despite having lost their brightness they still were vibrant compared to mortal eyes. The second giveaway to his true soul was the divine sign of protection branded like a tattoo in the centre of his chest. The Hamsa hand. The Aum sign. Along with this tattoo-like brand was the golden intricate pattern of what looked like swords and the third eye swirling together in a beautiful pattern spreading across the tops of his broad shoulders and collarbone down to his tan forearms and hands.

The most surprising detail was the wings poking out of the ripped holes in the back of his pale worn singlet. They were not archangel wings yet they were still startling, more like eagle feathers. They were the same size and shape of before yet white. A brilliant white of hundreds of feathers overlapping in the same direction. A light gold vein ran through each individual feather. Like the makings of a famous sculptor. The intricate detail only Gaia could create. Mother Nature.

As Mike turned the wings shimmered iridescently gold. Breathtaking. Groaning the archangel attempted to sit down at the dining room table. He pulled out a wooden chair almost sending it flying across the room.

" What the heck?" 

He muttered looking down at his arm and choking.

" What the heck is it with me today and tattoos? Honestly, what's happening!?"

He looked accusingly at Jene.

" Cousin you've been here one day and all these...frankly suspicious and odd events are happening. Would you care to explain?"

Jene swallowed, he was confident it was his presence waking or encouraging Michael's divine soul to awaken. A soul could sense kinship, a soul could sense home. It could sense family.

Michael sat down muttering ineligibly. Well, he tried to sit down. Despite his attempts, his newfound wings refused to bend. 

" Ow!" 

Michael turned around viewing the feathery creations coming out of his back and Jene rushed forward. The paling of the archangels face worrying him. 

" Hey c'mon, why don't I get you  something to drink Mike?" 

Jene gently led the bewildered man into the kitchen where Al's abandoned cup of coffee sat. 

" I can't stand black coffee, it's just too bitter. What a weird guy."

Michael muttered. He allowed Jene to place a glass of orange juice in front of him as the angeling stopped and studied Michael. The archangel was looking somberly out of the grimy kitchen window, the late morning light emphasising the unhealthy shade of his face and the dark shadows under his eyes.

The weighted silence was interrupted by the sounds of quiet thumping from the dining room. Mike was either oblivious to the noise or simply did not care which left Jene heading off to investigate. Leaving the solitary archangel staring across the wheat paddocks rustling in the silent breeze.