Angel Warriors: The Serialized Novel

I

At the conclusion of the evening prayers and praise, Krios congratulated his older companion. “Excellent rendition, Magrel; I told you there would be no problems.”

“Yes, well, it is always best to be well-prepared. It is an honor to lead the evening prayers, and I did not want to make any errors.”

The two Angels nodded briefly to members of their Order as the Heavenly Host attended to their evening duties. As Herald Angels, Magrel and Krios flew though the Golden City to announce the Evening Tide. Each evening the Herald Angels flew, wing-tip to wing-tip, the length and breadth of Heaven, summoning the Host to prayer. Afterwards, seven Herald Angels officially brought the Evening Tide, and a faint veil of mist darkened the sky, bringing out the brilliance of the stars. The First Light swept the mist away, once more brought by the flight of seven more Herald Angels; the cycle reached its crest at the point between first light and evening with the third group of Heralds’ proclamation of Median Tide.

At the end of the flight, Magrel and Krios broke away from the other five Heralds, having reached the outer perimeter of the City. Muted songs of praise from the Cherubim Choir flowed serenely over Heaven, and would continue until First Light.

Magrel started to veer off toward his aerie when he noticed that Krios continued his flight toward the distant Cosmos. “Where are you going, Krios? You agreed to help me finish the texts for the Archiver this evening.”

“This is one of the few evenings that I have time to visit the Light Steeds. The texts can be finished next evening, in plenty of time. Having spoken to Prince Lucifer just before Evening Tide, I have thought about asking him if he would allow me to tend to his chariot team. They are such awesome creatures, and I know the current groom is somewhat fearful of them.”

“And you are not?” Magrel flew with him, a teasing glint in his hazel eyes. “They are not gentle creatures, but weapons of war. Only Prince Lucifer’s exalted rank permits him four Light Steeds for his chariot; the rest are Battle Chargers, commanded by Michael’s own Light Steed. They may not take to you.”

“I will risk it,” Krios smiled wryly. “Worst they can do is blast me into the next dimens--”

Krios’ words ended abruptly, cut off by a powerful elemental blast of energy. The younger Angel took the full brunt of the blast, saving Magrel from the worst of the impact. Startled, Magrel’s wings swept around the injured Angel, and he turned to meet the source.

A black, jagged rip in the fabric of Space revealed the emergence of a horrific being. Multiple, bulbous red eyes glared malevolently at them; scarlet, billowing sheets of energy formed vast wings, propelling the beast through the dimensional tear. Magrel retreated, pulling Krios with him; he had never seen this demon before, and hoped never to see it again. The portal sealed up behind the dragon-like creature, and it hovered briefly in Space, its bulk dwarfing the two Angels.

“Foolish little Angels,” the nerve-tingling reverb cut through the Heralds’ minds as the demon’s mental thoughts reached them. “What art thee doing here, so far from Heaven? Think not that I wilt allow thy escape to warn The Archangel and his Warriors.”

Another blast of incinerating energy struck them, nearly half of the force breaking through Magrel’s protective barrier of AngelFire. The older Herald shuddered under the impact, shielding Krios from further harm; DemonFire burned through him, and he fought to keep the barrier intact. He sent out a desperate summons for the Warriors, praying he would be able to withstand the demon’s attack until they arrived.

The demon’s laughter cut through him more sharply than the blasts of energy. “Thee wilt be only a fading memory long before any Warrior responds to thy call, Angel. The life-force of thee and thy companion will strengthen me, and I will decimate half the Army before I am finished.”

“Braggart! You were not so brave when you sought my mercy!”

The demon recoiled, its attention diverted from the two Heralds as another Angel suddenly appeared--a Warrior. It snarled, gathering up more energy for a lethal blast.

“Thou art naught but an Angel, same as they! And thy fate wilt be the same as theirs!”

The soul-searing blast of DemonFire blazed past the two Heralds, only to glance harmlessly off Mihdael’s golden shield. Concern over his fellow Angels uppermost in his mind, the Warrior wasted no time in prolonged battle. He had granted Zherhon mercy before; the demon would not fare as well this time. “Surrender, Zherhon!”

The demon responded with another wave of DemonFire, wide enough to encompass all three Angels. Mihdael intercepted the glowing green energy, his own AngelFire dissipating the DemonFire before it reached the Herald Angels. The Warrior’s form blazed golden-white as he attacked, flying up and over Zherhon’s head. His sword pierced the demon’s back, cutting a deep gash from neck to flank. Zherhon roared, twisting its bulky head round to center on its opponent; red-black energy gushed from the open wound, and Mihdael banked sharply to avoid a considerably weaker blast of DemonFire. Continuing the arc, he cut under the beast, his sword cutting across the heavily ridged scales of the demon’s midsection.

The second wound incapacitated Zherhon, and it retreated. Red-black energy escaped at an alarming rate as it attempted to re-open the portal and escape. A golden net of AngelFire enveloped it, however, restricting its movements and mental commands.

“You are defeated, Zherhon. Will you surrender?” Mihdael’s wings brought him level with the rows of multiple eyes.

“There will be no surrender!” Michael’s strident command startled both Mihdael and Zherhon. The demon had no chance to counter the Archangel’s AngelFire.

A brilliant flash of blue-white energy struck Zherhon, and the demon vanished from existence.

Archangel Michael turned an angry glare on his lieutenant, as his great emerald wings brought him alongside the injured Angels. “I will take this matter up with you at a later time, Lieutenant; but for now, we must see to the care of the injured.”

II

No further words passed between Michael and Mihdael as they brought the injured Heralds to Raphael’s aerie. The Healer did not waste time asking for explanations, and left Magrel in Michael’s care while he concentrated his healing arts on Krios.

Michael’s AngelFire flowed over Magrel, healing the minor burns while stabilizing the more serious breakdowns of his internal energy fields. Mihdael stood by silently, fighting off his own self-recriminations. Guilt tore at him, knowing full well that his sparing of Zherhon’s life earlier had resulted in the near-destruction of two Angels.

Raphael’s mental summons reached them. "Mihdael, Krios wishes to speak with you.”

At Michael’s short nod, Mihdael flew solemnly through elaborate archways until he reached the chamber that faced the Central Axis and God’s House. Manner subdued, he alighted, and approached the raised platform in the center of the room. Raphael stood next to it, adjusting the translucent healing field that surrounded Krios’ supine form.

Mihdael rarely noticed the effects of DemonFire on an angel’s energy composition. Usually, the damage was either quickly repaired, or the attacking demon incurred destruction before extensive harm could be done. Krios’ mortal form clung weakly to a dim outline; within the faint aura, energy arced and crackled around burnt, blackened areas that spread from center chest outward. Raphael’s healing Light suffused the scorched areas of his being, slowly altering the molecular structures, repairing the damaged areas. An empty blackness devoid of light and energy indicted destroyed areas that required all of Raphael’s healing arts.

Halting opposite Raphael, Mihdael reached a tentative hand through the softly glowing teal-green Light, and touched the Herald’s forearm with gentle care. “Krios, I am here.”

“Mihdael… you heard my call…”

“Yes, even before Magrel sent his summons.” Mihdael paused, his hand tightening briefly. “I regret the necessity for it. I ask your forgiveness, my friend.”

“Why?”

“I allowed Zherhon’s continued existence. I did not destroy him earlier, when I had the chance. If I had, you would not be--”

Krios gripped Mihdael’s hand firmly, gaze steady. “You are not… responsible for another’s actions. You granted him mercy--as I would have done… if in your place. You are a fair and just Warrior, Mihdael, and… a worthy representative of God’s Love and Mercy.” His gentle smile failed to reach his colorless eyes. “For that, there is nothing to forgive, and much to admire.”

“I am undeserving of your admiration, and mercy, Angel Krios.”

“Then, if it will lighten your heart, you have my forgiveness for any harm you believe you have caused me.”

“I thank you, Krios.”

As Krios’ aura dimmed and ebbed, Raphael intervened. “Enough visiting for now, Herald. You need rest and time to regain your strength. Mihdael,” he glanced up at the Warrior, “will you remain with him while I tend to Magrel?” The Warrior straightened, nodding.

“…Magrel… he is well?” Krios interrupted in a weak, faint voice.

“Considerably better than you are, Angel. His injuries are minor, and will heal quickly.”

Krios nodded, satisfied, and lay back.

Mihdael remained by his side, very military and correct; traits Raphael often observed in Michael, yet rarely viewed in Mihdael.

*** *** ***
Raphael halted in the archway leading into the anteroom where Michael waited with Angel Magrel. The Archangel sat next to the older Herald, his hand resting on Magrel’s forearm as he spoke in a quiet, soothing tone. Raphael glanced back at Mihdael and Krios, then to Michael and Magrel; both of them, Angel and Archangel, reflected each other’s compassion, gentleness, and caring. Traits the Healer often viewed in Mihdael, but rarely had the opportunity to observe in Michael. He smiled to himself as he approached his brother Archangel.

Michael glanced up at Raphael’s approach, and then smiled down at Magrel. “Raphael will see to your injuries, Herald Magrel. You have reacted with great courage, and saved your brother Herald from further harm. You are to be commended.”

“I am…honored, Commander,” Magrel spoke in a quiet tone, his sense of awe for the Archangel doubled. ‘And to think we had such fear of him…’ Respect replaced the earlier disquiet that Magrel had always experienced in Michael’s presence. Warrior and Commander he might be, but Archangel Michael was first and foremost an Angel of God.

III

Attend My Words, all the Host of Heaven. I hath granted Herald Angels Krios and Magrel the ultimate recognition possible for any angel. I hath offered them entry into Ascendant Heaven and they have accepted. Both displayed unparalleled courage and faith, and both are deserving of this Ascension.

Alternating waves of regret, elation, sorrow, and joy swept over Mihdael at God’s announcement. Although happy at Krios’ and Magrel’s admission to Ascendant Heaven, he felt their absence keenly. His association the two Herald Angels had been fleeting and infrequent, for he had always thought there would be time later. With alarming suddenness, he realized that conditions in Heaven did not remain permanent.

*** *** ***
The Transmogrification of Spirit celebration lasted through Evening Tide, as the Host of Heaven celebrated the Ascension of Angels Magrel and Krios. Archangel Gabriel led the Herald Angels in songs of praise, and Raphael spoke on behalf of the Ascended Heralds. Yet one Angel Warrior found it difficult to shake a feeling of desolation. A single, unrelenting thought continued to plague him: he was responsible for the loss of two Herald Angels.

No matter that Krios and Magrel had forgiven him, both Heralds insistent that his sense of responsibility and guilt was unfounded. The continual sharp looks from his Commander indicated that Michael thought otherwise. A hearing, a reprimand, and some form of discipline would follow. And Mihdael felt he deserved it.

As the Evening Prayers ended, the Host drifted away to their own duties and posts. Only Mihdael lingered behind, and Lucifer approached the Warrior, noting his despondency.

A hand touched his shoulder, and Mihdael turned at the sound of Lucifer’s concerned tone. “Mihdael,” the Light-Bringer’s hand settled on the warrior’s arm, “you are not still blaming yourself, are you?”

“Do you see my guilt, too?” Mihdael looked away, and shook his head. “I am not blameless in this. My decision affected more than just myself. I should have followed Michael’s orders; I fear I am too inexperienced to have made such a decision.”

“God does not hold you at fault. Nor do I, or Magrel, or Krios. The decision you made was not an easy one, yet you have the courage to make those difficult choices.” Lucifer’s silver-white, secondary wings curved around Mihdael as he spoke words of reassurance. “You are not perfect, Mihdael. You were not created to be.”

“No, but I still feel…” he stopped. Lucifer’s concern flowed over him, so different, and welcomed, from Michael’s silent accusations. “I appreciate your concern, and your continued support, Lucifer. Would that my Commander felt the same as you.”

“As God granted you absolution, so I grant you mine.” The Light-Bringer’s great, platinum wings unfurled as he embraced Mihdael. Light shimmered and pulsed, clearing away the clinging remnant of Mihdael’s self-recriminations. “I offer you what comfort you will accept.”

A quiet serenity flowed into the Warrior’s spirit, only slightly less healing and comforting than God’s Own presence.

*** *** ***
Archangel Michael waited until Mihdael left, then intercepted Lucifer’s departure. “Hold, Light-Bringer. I have noted your continued interest in my Second-in-Command. An interest that is more than warranted by a fellow Host of Heaven. Any remorse Mihdael may feel at his actions--or lack of them--is not your concern. Only God can grant him the absolution he needed, and He has done so. What need have you to intercede, or to do God’s Will in His stead?”

“You always did speak your mind, Michael. I gave him my comfort and support, which any brother Angel or Host should offer another.”

“You did more than that. You absolved him. Such is for God only. Do you now act in Hisplace? Has your own sense of power and authority granted you the aspects of God Himself?”

Lucifer smiled, unaffected by Michael’s observations. “If our Father has said naught against me, why should you? Perhaps He is testing me to see the courage of my convictions.”

“We are free to do our own will, Lucifer, just as Mihdael is free to act on his own initiative. I have noted your subtle attempts to influence him, to sway any indecisiveness concerning his military decisions to your own perceptions of what should be done. I have warned you before, MorningStar, to keep such counsel to thyself.” Silver flames flickered in Michael’s eyes, his manner unrelenting, as he continued. “You have no military training or background; therefore, your influence in that area would do more harm to Mihdael than help.”

“To Mihdael? Or to you? Are you fearful of your own creation, Michael?”

Taken aback at first, Michael recovered quickly from the unexpected question. “No more so than yours.”

“The scale is precariously balanced, Michael. Which of us will tip it first?”

IV

The Army, at Michael’s command, assembled on the vast Parade Field near the Celestial Courtyard. All knew of Zherhon’s destruction and the fate of the two Herald Angels, but only a few knew the details.

A curved, raised dais formed a stage at the north end of the Parade Field. Each of the Legion Captains stood in steadfast formality behind Michael and Mihdael. The Warrior remained at attention as his Commander started the proceedings.

“Lieutenant Commander Mihdael, you are required to give your report of your actions and the reasons behind them leading to the confrontation between the demon Zherhon and Herald Angels Krios and Magrel.”

“I was created Angel before Warrior,” he spoke with a depth of conviction and truth fortified by forgiveness. “Compassion and mercy is deeply ingrained in my soul. After my encounter with Zherhon, I found I could not destroy a weaponless enemy who had surrendered to me. I therefore allowed Zherhon safe passage back to his dimension. At that time, all was well and Heaven safe from invasion. If Zherhon chose to challenge the Warriors again, I had no doubt he would fail.”

Michael’s silver eyes narrowed, his tone heavy with authority. “Yet, he did not choose to challenge Warriors. He sought to approach Heaven’s defenses in a different way, through those Angels not versed in battle. He nearly succeeded, and cost Heaven two of its Herald Angels.”

“I deeply regret the incident.” Mihdael prepared for any repercussion as he continued, “Nevertheless, I could not do otherwise--not then, and not in the future.”

His commander straightened to a more military stance, his stern features unreadable as his measured voice meted out discipline. “Angel Warrior Mihdael, Sentinel of Eden, and Second-in-Command of Heaven’s Army, your failure in your primary duty of the defense of Heaven brought about that confrontation. By refusing to comply with standard military procedure, you have jeopardized the safety of the Host and placed Heaven in unnecessary peril.

“For the next two cycles, you are relieved of duty and command. You are restricted to the perimeters of Heaven until further notice.”

Mihdael nodded shortly, grateful at the judicious disciplinary action; an action he had feared would be quite severe.

Michael saluted the eleven Legion Captains, and then turned to the Army. “Dismissed, except for you, Mihdael. You will remain.”

Alone on the platform, Mihdael waited for Michael to continue. The Archangel’s rigid stance relaxed, and his features softened from military severity to attentive consideration. “At ease, Lieutenant.”

Uncertain, Mihdael remained vigilant as his commander approached. Hopefully, he searched the Archangel’s face for any sign of leniency, any trace that his Commander would express some insight into his heart and soul. Instead of the understanding he wanted to find, he found disapproval. Reproach. Reprimand. Nothing different from what he had experienced earlier. He braced himself for more.

“You must understand, Mihdael, that what I do as a military commander is circumscribed and structured. I can allow no leeway or variation.” Michael’s expression shifted, appearing more sympathetic but no less judgmental. “What I think personally, however, is quite another matter. While I do not approve of your actions, I try to understand them. I hope you can see and understand that.”

“I know that neither the Archangel nor the Commander agree with my assessment and disposition of the enemy.” Mihdael’s defensive wall went up, reinforced by Michael’s inflexible formality.

“You made a grave mistake, Mihdael.”

“Yes, Commander. An unforgivable one?”

“Your tendency to spare the lives of demons troubles me. I wonder where your true loyalty lies. Sympathy for the enemy whose sole purpose is to destroy all that God has created cannot conflict with your duty as an Angel Warrior. Do you now agree with my original order?”

“I understand it, Commander.”

“I know I have your understanding. I need your obedience as well.” Michael relented as much as his nature allowed, placing a hand on the warrior’s shoulder.

Mihdael remained silent, considering his next words with care. “Commander, if you require blind, unquestioning obedience from me,” he answered in an even tone, “then I am not the Warrior you should have as your Second-in-Command. For you have trained me to be self-sufficient, and to temper my judgments according to the circumstances and personalities involved in any conflict. You taught me to be merciful, forgiving, and compassionate to everyone. It has become a part of my character.

“If I now displease you, or if you have now found me wanting, then I will step down as your Second. For I cannot gainsay my nature.”

“You are my Second, Mihdael; such is never in doubt or question. I ask only that you will carefully consider the repercussions of any decision you make.”

Mihdael nodded, smiling faintly at the compromise. “That I will do, Commander; you have my word.”

Michael nodded, hesitating before dismissing the warrior. “Mihdael... I know these past few events have been difficult for you. And I understand how you would empathize with any opposing viewpoint, especially if such a viewpoint was that of a friend or peer. If you should have any serious concerns or doubts, I would hope you would be willing to come to me with those concerns and accept my counsel.”

“And would such counsel come from my Commander, or from my mentor?”

Mihdael had not said ‘friend’, and that troubled Michael more than anything else the warrior had said or done. “From your peer.”

V

Michael watched in silence as Mihdael’s golden glow diminished to a pinpoint of light in the distance. He turned at the sound of approaching footsteps on the marble tiles, and Captain Donyael, his once Second in Command, saluted.

“Captain.” The Archangel returned the salute. “You did not leave with your Legion?”

“No, Commander. I wanted to speak with you in private. I waited until the others left, and until Mihdael departed.” He paused, uncertain how to continue. “I would be wary of Mihdael, Commander; he could very easily be set against you.”

“Whatever his convictions, Donyael, I doubt if Mihdael would go against me.”

“I am not the only one who would tell you this. Mihdael’s interests are not limited solely to the military, as are the rest of the Warriors. I mean no disrespect or disparagement of his character, but he thinks beyond military strategies and campaigns.” Donyael’s sharp features took on a concerned aspect, his aura spiking with his disquiet. “Sometimes, I do not understand his reasoning, or his actions based on that reasoning. His decisions are usually sound, yet not always influenced by his primary Office as your Second-in-Command.” Donyael stopped abruptly, not knowing how to give words to his misgivings.

Michael recognized the confusion on his Warrior’s features and erratic aura--for his own response to Mihdael had been very similar. “I understand your viewpoint, Captain Donyael. Regardless of Mihdael’s basis for his decisions, he is still bound to God. And I do not think he would oppose our Father.”

“I have noted, also, Commander, that Mihdael harkens to Lucifer’s words before your own. There is an… affinity between them unlike any I have ever seen. At times, it seems that Mihdael prefers Lucifer’s counsel to yours. Such cannot bode well for the Army.”

“I appreciate your apprehension, and I will give your words careful consideration. I am heartened by your interest in the well-being of Heaven. I would like for you to feel free to approach me at any time concerning any fears or questions you may have relating to any Warrior--regardless of his Office.”

Michael nodded his dismissal, and, with a calmer aura, Donyael left to return to his post.

VI

Thou art troubled, Michael?

God’s gentle tone reached the Archangel on a subliminal level, neither intrusive nor insistent. An inquiry based on concern, concern that flowed and ebbed through Michael’s spirit in comforting waves of warmth and love. For brief moments, Michael allowed the Trinity’s soothing touch to ease the tension and torment of his troubled thoughts. “I know not how to voice my concerns, Father--or even if I should have such feelings of disquiet and unease to begin with.”

Michael spoke aloud, in answer to God’s question. The Archangel’s solemn gaze swept over the golden city below his aerie, his voice pensive as he continued. “I sense a disquieting air among the Choirs, an arcane, yet ever present presentiment of disaster.”

Doest thou feel incapable of coping with such harbingers?

“I feel uneasy not knowing the true source, or the guiding intellect behind it. There is naught in or out of Heaven that I will not face; yet, this seems to be invisible to my eyes.”

I have consummate faith in thy abilities, Michael. However, this is not thy main concern. Thee doubts Mihdael’s intellect and loyalty, and questions the wisdom of thy own involvement in his creation.

“It is difficult for me to fault Mihdael--to accuse and distrust him--for being the Angel that I requested from You. I find myself questioning the wisdom of the very aspects I gave him, and doubting the aspects given him by Lucifer. Mihdael is as I asked; yet…” His voice and thoughts trailed off.

Michael, Mihdael is more than aspects of character taken from thyself and Lucifer. He is also of Me, and a combination of his own creation based on his experiences and sense of Self. What Mihdael is, he has chosen to be; what Mihdael does, he has chosen to do.

Thy training hast been flawless. Thy perceptions of Lucifer’s influences are just that: an assessment. The three of thee are very similar, yet very different. Thou art no more responsible for Mihdael’s thoughts and actions than Mihdael is responsible for thine.

Doest thou understand, Michael?

The Archangel bowed. “Yes, Father. I thank You for setting my mind at ease. I felt responsible for any act against Heaven by Mihdael, for I am the one who asked for his creation.”

And now thou art aware of Our feelings regarding all the Host of Heaven. For We created all of thee, gave unto thee intellect, power, and free will. It is the granting of Free Will to Our creations that both absolves Us from the individual’s actions, and yet holds Us responsible for allowing such a contradiction to exist.

“It is that attribute of the Trinity, Father, that has always awed and amazed me.”

VII

A soft fluttering of wings caught Donyael’s attention, and he emerged from the protective overhang of a large Tekite tree, relieved to place some distance between himself and the debilitating effects of the trees. “Prince Lucifer, you are late; I was beginning to worry that--”

“I had important matters which required my immediate attention,” Lucifer interrupted, alighting with fluid grace on the dead gray grass. White robes and platinum cloak swirled around his impressive form, his wings drawn down to bring further attention to himself. He led the way deeper into the grove of Tekite Trees, much to Donyael’s dismay.

“Must we go so deeply into this fearsome wood?” Donyael pulled his indigo wings in close to shield him from the pulsating emanations, a futile attempt at best. “Can we not meet elsewhere?”

“And where do you suggest we meet? You know well Michael’s ability to spy on his warriors; to know their actions and words. Even if he were to extend his perceptions to this plane, he would not be able to discern our location, or hear our words.”

Lucifer stopped walking before he stopped speaking, and Donyael pulled up short to avoid running into his lowered wings. “Now, a report. Have you done as I asked?”

“Yes. I brought Michael’s attention to Mihdael’s questionable conduct. Both still believe I am true to Michael and the Army, and believe anything I say concerning it.”

“You have done well. Subtlety is the key: plant the seed and the roots will reach deep and take hold. Too much, and the doubt is washed away; too little, and it does not flourish.”

Donyael nodded, not quite understanding all of Lucifer’s allusions; but Lucifer was an Archangel of high intellect. He, a Warrior and Angel, wouldn’t be expected to understand the workings of such a superior mind. A mind superior to Michael.

“There are a few more favors you may do for me.” It took a few moments for Lucifer to outline his agenda, and Donyael promised to do as the Archangel requested.

Only then did Lucifer allow him to leave, and Mihdael’s rival left with the assurances that he would soon retain his high ranking as Second-in-Command of Heaven’s Army.

VIII

“Are you prepared to move against the Throne?” The Ha-Satan’s regal form pulsed a deep red with affronted anger.

“Yes,” Lucifer’s tone matched the Ha-Satan’s resentment. “The thought of bowing to those creatures, to have them Ascend to our Father’s Throne in our place--it is unacceptable.

“The Trinity said nothing against our disagreeing with the Decree, and did nothing against those who sided with us. We will maintain that God is above all, and we serve only God. Just who that God will be…” and the Light-Bringer’s handsome features took on a foreboding expression, “will be determined by the majority, not by the One. In this way, we will win the majority of the Host to our side. All will vow obedience to us, and Our Father will be forced to concede to our larger number. I will prove that I, and I alone, am worthy of His Throne--not a creature of clay, but His Own creation of Light.”

“Then proceed.” The Ha-Satan gave Lucifer a nod of approval. “Know, too, that once we move against the Throne, Michael and his Army will be set against us. It is well that we strike first.”

“Agreed. I have anticipated Michael’s reaction, and have planned thusly. Soon, the Army will be ours--and so will its new Commander.”

NEXT: Chapter 13 - Rebellion 12/24/08

I

A day like any other dawned in Eden: cloudless, warm, a cool Northerly breeze gusting in over the river. Nothing gave any evidence or the slightest hint of anything amiss.

Having diverted a comet’s course from Eden, Mihdael took the opportunity for a rare – and welcome – visit. He carefully flew over the Home of Man, assuring himself that no residual radiation had penetrated its blue skies. All was well, and he noted a group of angels gathered near the Tree of Life. He had no assignment pending, and skirted the fringes of the group, recognizing the voices of Archangel Raphael and Archangel Zagzagel. He settled unobtrusively on a boulder that allowed him clear view over the other angels.

The two Archangels debated the particulars of knowledge and wisdom - learned vs. inherent - while Man also watched and listened. Raphael, Angel of Healing, Science, and Knowledge, and usually very sociable, spoke his assertions with vehemence. All of which amused the older, more aggressive, Zagzagel, Angel of Wisdom and Chief of the Fourth Heaven.

Mihdael settled more comfortably on the rocky surface, experience having taught him that such debates could go on for quite some time. He smiled to himself as Raphael scored definite points in his favor when the summons reached him. The mental message drifted to him, almost imperceptible, a subtle whisper along the planes, as if overt notice was not to be given; he recognized Lucifer’s call, however faint.

He glanced back at the two archangels. Neither gave any leeway, and Mihdael was loathe to leave, but a summons from Lucifer took priority. Directed specifically at him, he could not have another angel answer for him.

The participants and the observers were so caught up in the lively discussion that Mihdael doubted that any of them noticed his discreet departure. He would ask his fellow angel, Azael, how it all came out; and he did not notice Angel Azael watching him covertly as he left.

II

Following the summons back to its source, Mihdael reappeared, quick and silent as thought itself, in a place far removed from Eden--another plane, quite familiar to him. He had left in mortal form, and arrived in that same form. He found Lucifer waiting, also in the silver-white form of Man, his golden-brown eyes serious, the silvery wings held in readiness for instant flight, if necessary.

“I am here, Lucifer.” He alighted on the sparse, blue-gray grass, aware they were not alone.

Lucifer, wrapped in a platinum-bright radiance, stood a short distance from Mihdael, his eyes holding the quiet challenge of his words. “You once affirmed your allegiance to me, Angel Mihdael. Do you still hold to that affirmation?”

Mihdael hesitated, his warrior instincts alerted, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. The Tekite dulled his senses, slowed his reflexes. Even so, an impression of menace seeped through in prickly needle points along his senses, a warning of imminent danger. If some arcane evil threatened, he could not locate or define it; it fluctuated, nebulous, and at no fixed point.

Lucifer knew of it, of that he felt certain. No doubt the reason why the Archangel had summoned him, so he could face the threat here, and not jeopardize Eden.

“I stand with you, and all other Archangels, as always, Lucifer.” He discerned the auras of Archangels Astaroth and Belial, the others obscured by the Tekite-trees that ranged thickly along this plane. He gazed with increased respect at Lucifer. Few angels ventured onto this plane at all, much less locate, and hold, an enemy until the warriors arrived. “I am here to defend; you need only to show me the threat.”

Lucifer nodded, his features easing into a smile. “The threat is here, held by those loyal to me. But use not your sword." He pulled a faintly glowing sword from the folds of his platinum-white cloak. "Take this one, for it will be most effective."

Mihdael recognized the weapon, having seen it wielded in battle many times--and not by Lucifer. "Why do you have the sword of Archangel Michael?" He made no move to accept the weapon, its crystal blade glinting in iridescent gold and reds, the hilt formed from a flawless ruby. The Sword of the Archangel, as unique in its appearance as it was in the simplicity of its purpose.

"It is yours now; or will be, once you seal your vow to the Chief of the Seraphim, and take command of the Celestial Army." He held out the sword, the faint light bringing the embedded rubies to life.

Mihdael gave the archangel a questioning look, not certain of what Lucifer alluded to. Their vows--Angel and Archangel alike--were to God and Mankind, with no separate vow to the Chief of the Seraphim, nor was one required. But it was Michael’s sword, and he would not have given it up willingly. The danger must be greater than he had thought.

Taking the sword, Mihdael felt its power flow through him in waves of energy, power that strengthened him to endure the effects of this plane. "What would you have me do?"

Lucifer led the way to a larger grove of Tekite-Trees, the bare, twisted branches intertwining to form a canopy under the perpetual twilight. Several Seraphs and Thrones grouped around the tallest tree, their multi-hued wings already pale and lackluster. Mihdael knew all of them, and associated them with the Archangels who had been most vocal amongst themselves about the wisdom of Angels serving Man. As they approached, the others moved aside. All manifested in mortal form, as did the prisoner chained securely to the trunk of the Tekite-Tree. Mihdael slowed his pace, his trepidation increasing.

Even with the Tekite obscuring and dulling his senses, he discerned the dimly glowing wings. Six wings, three on each side of the large Tekite-Tree, securely bound with rows of heavy iron chains. The prisoner’s depleted strength caused the vibrant color to ebb and fade from the wings, leaving them dull and grayish.

Another Seraph Archangel, taken by his peers? He did not know of any Archangel having committed a transgression serious enough to warrant such action from within their Order.

“He is condemned for opposing the will of the Chief of the Seraphim,” Lucifer said, as if reading his thoughts. The Archangel’s hand rested firmly on his shoulder as they approached the captive. “It falls to you, Warrior Mihdael, to carry out the sentence of execution.”

“Execution? But, only Michael--” His voice broke off as the two remaining Seraphs moved away, and the prisoner’s powerful frame lunged in fury against the chains binding him.

“Lucifer! Damn your apostatized soul!” For the moment, Michael’s blazing eyes glared past him, seeing only the one who had betrayed him. “Your sinful pride has blinded you to God’s Law; you dare think yourself above God? Worse, to be as God?!”

His fury swept over the others. "And you, Belial, you bring dishonor to your fellow angels in the Order of Virtues; Astaroth, how can you believe your actions are not sins against He Who created you? And Uvall, Archangel of the Order of Powers, charged with the protection of the Universe itself--you dare to turn against me?!"

Lucifer stepped before him, Light flaring from the fingertips of his up-raised hand. "I, Lucifer, Light-Bringer and the MorningStar, am now your master, Archangel Michael. Your sword is in my keeping, and you are useless without it. Pledge your life, your soul, to me and to the Chief of the Seraphim, and a place will be found for you in our Hierarchy--somewhere."

“My oath is to God alone; my life, my soul, is His alone. You, and your whore of Evil, can--”

Lucifer’s defiance was chilling in its malevolence, his once-pleasant features twisted with hatred. He struck Michael with the same Light that enhanced the power given to all Archangels. The Tekite-Tree acted as a conductor for the bolts of energy, magnifying and increasing the Light to soul-searing extremes.

Like channeled lightning, blue energy arched around Michael’s body, draining him of strength and will. The cascades doubled, and Michael’s mortal form wavered, blue-white energy attempting to shield against Lucifer’s Light. The intensity tripled, confining Michael between the bolts of energy and the Tekite-Tree that attracted them, channeling the power in a continuous circuit. Michael withstood it, refusing to surrender to it or Lucifer.

Mihdael gripped the sword’s hilt tightly, not believing what his eyes told him. The currents of discontent that had swelled in force and power, more evident than ever since the decree to serve Mankind, now revealed itself in open rebellion. The rumors of contention, of rebellion, the oft-whispered plots and plans ranging from petitioning God to reconsider Mankind’s status over angels, to storming the gates of Heaven itself, it could not have culminated to this.

He had ignored the danger that had festered within his own ranks, infecting those closest to him. He had to find some way to stop it, some way to convince Lucifer and those allied with him that what they were doing was wrong.

The crackling arcs died away, and Lucifer stepped aside. “You have chosen your fate.”

Michael raised his head with effort, his silvery-gray eyes focusing on the warrior before him: his own Second-in-Command. A brief sense of regret, of sorrow, flickered across his wan features before anger reasserted itself in his gaze and stance. “Mihdael… I was warned that you might go against me, that you would seek revenge. I would not believe that you would go against God and myself. I ignored the veiled cautions, trusted to your loyalty to God.

“And now you stand there before me, ready to strike. Do you have such courage of your convictions, warrior?”

Mihdael looked at the Archangel that he had served, faithfully and well, for thousands of centuries. That Michael could so easily believe that he had gone over to Evil, could believe that he would defy the God he loved more than his life, his soul...

His lips tightened into a hard, straight line, and the clear blade flared a deep red. “You believe that I would so readily go against all I that I hold true?”

“I believe what I see, what I hear. You were angered when command of the Sentinels was taken from you, argued with my decisions concerning it. And I remember your siding with Lucifer before, against me. What once may have been difficult for you becomes less difficult the more it is repeated, until it proves no difficulty at all for you to strike against our Father. Is your friendship--your allegiance--with Lucifer worth the risk of your immortal soul?”

“Finish it, Mihdael,” Lucifer broke in, voice hard and insistent. “Take the revenge that honor demands, and claim the title of Commander that is rightfully yours. ”

Mihdael glanced briefly into the eyes and souls of the Seraphs, Thrones, and Powers awaiting his decision, his one action to initiate the beginning of the end. He saw that any attempt at reason would be wasted, for they had already gone too far to recant; and he doubted they would heed the words of a mere Angel.

Uvall confirmed his assessment. “He vacillates too long, Lucifer; he is too indecisive and insecure to command the Army. Give the Sword to me, and I will dispense with both of them.”

Faced with limited options, Mihdael chose the one honor demanded of him.

He slowly lifted the sword above his head, gauging the force needed, while Lucifer and the others stepped back. Michael’s level gaze never wavered as the sword descended, eyes locked with those of his warrior. And only when the fiery blade cut through the rows of chains binding him did Michael’s own warrior nature take hold. As the chains fell away, he took his sword from Mihdael, and they stood, shoulder-to-shoulder, backs to the Tekite-Tree, swords drawn and ready.

The battle lasted a short time, for only the renegade angel warriors challenged them. A few of the Archangels provided defensive shields, but nothing could defend them from Michael’s fury. Although forbidden to kill another angel, Mihdael held them at bay long enough for Michael to dispatch them from their current realm of existence.

The Light-Bringer cast a wall of blazing energy at Michael and Mihdael; the force of it staggered Michael, and sent Mihdael hurtling backwards, his momentum brought up short against a Tekite-Tree. At Lucifer’s command, the remaining Archangels fled. They abandoned their mortal forms; all returned to their original energy state, the brilliant auras disappearing in a blink of an eye.

Lucifer stood alone, his protective shield of AngelFire that had enabled the others’ retreat quickly shattered by Michael’s sword. Lucifer avoided the return arc of the sword, finding it easy to evade an Archangel weakened by both Tekite and Lucifer’s Light.

“I had hoped to avoid a direct confrontation, Michael. However, if you insist on pushing the point…” Lucifer once more summoned the Light, a force more powerful than AngelFire.

“You would seek to use the Light of God against Him?” Michael swung the Sword again, cutting through the Light. “Now, Light-Bringer, we shall see if you are the God you claim to be. For the God that created us cannot be harmed by any weapon!”

Lucifer flinched back, arm raised against the descending Sword; he stared at Michael with actual fear for the first time in his existence.

“Commander, no!” Mihdael’s sword struck Michael’s blade a hair’s breadth from its target. With every particle of strength he possessed, he charged into Michael’s massive frame; head down, shoulder raised, he drove Michael back from Lucifer.

The Light-Bringer, startled at Mihdael’s unexpected actions, nevertheless acted on the opportunity it presented. Anger quickly replaced his earlier fear, and his form vanished in a brilliant flash of white light.

“You have allowed him to escape!”

“Commander, would you murder your own brother? Lucifer was unarmed, with no defense against you.”

Fury burned dark in Michael’s eyes, and his muscles tensed along his shoulders and arms in an effort to fight off both Mihdael and the effects of the Tekite. Mihdael felt his own strength of will and purpose beginning to drain away, and he held Michael at bay with a faltering determination. “He will not escape God’s punishment, if He so chooses.”

“Conspirator! I know not your motives nor reasons, but you will not escape!”

With reflexes quicker than lightning, Michael knocked the sword from his grip. He felt the hot edge of Michael’s sword against his throat. “Lucifer and the other traitors will be dealt with later. But you, you raised my own sword against me. You planned and plotted with Lucifer to take what you had not earned, only to have your courage fail you--”

“I did not plot with Lucifer,” Mihdael interrupted, holding his own anger in check. The pervading sense of disorientation seeped through him, eating away at control and rational thought. “I was aware only of the rumors and rumblings of discontentment.”

“You are his friend of long-standing. And did you not avow your allegiance to him, several times? The most recent within my hearing?”

“My vow is to God, which includes all Archangels--not to Lucifer alone. He took it as such.”

“Yet, you did nothing to correct his misconception. Why did you not just refuse him outright, then as well as now? Why sink to the same subterfuge that they resort to? Unless you agreed, and approved of it.”

“I could no more reject Lucifer than I can reject you.” Mihdael straightened with effort, a bit surprised that he had recoiled from Michael. A deep weariness now pulled at him, urging him to give in, to accept the comatose state of non-existence. Michael, he could tell, had not reached that point yet; despite his weakened state and outward appearance, the Archangel’s resistance to the Tekite bordered on the phenomenal. “I saw no treason in his words, only concern… for the well being of all the Heavenly Hosts.”

Michael’s stern expression remained unconvinced. “And so you placed your trust entirely in Lucifer? Did you not trust in God as well?”

Mihdael carefully considered his words before speaking them. Regardless of what Michael thought, he knew his faith had never been compromised. “I have… always trusted in Him; as I have always… trusted in you. I have also trusted in my own abilities and skills, which were given to me by God, to be used in His service.”

Each thought, each word came with effort. Why was Michael keeping them here? “I have acted as He would… would have had me act, and responded to danger… with the least possible harm to those involved. Yet… you still doubt my motives.”

“You wonder why I doubt you? Consider this, Mihdael: Why would Lucifer think you would turn against God and myself, if not from your own words, deeds, or actions? Then, when I have him at the point of my sword, you enable his escape.” His eyes narrowed, “I find it unwise to believe you; and almost impossible to trust you.”

“I have never given you reason… to question my loyalty or honor. I have brought you victory after victory, and have never retreated or brought shame upon you.” Affronted anger strengthened Mihdael, temporarily staving off the lethargy.

“I know your heart, Commander, and I know you are not thinking clearly. This fearsome place has brought out the worst in you, affected your temperament and judgment, for the Michael I know would never raise his sword against an unarmed angel, and never against a brother Archangel.

“But, you are my Commander; if you consider me a danger to you, to Heaven, to God--then you would be foolish not to rid yourself of such a danger.”

For long seconds, Michael did not move or speak; then the blade lowered, and he stepped back. “I will take you before the Holy Trinity. God Himself will decide your fate.”

And Mihdael could see in Michael’s eyes that the Archangel had already decided against him.

NEXT: Chapter 14 -- Judgment 01/02/09

I

Lucifer’s fiery brilliance filled the halls of the Seraph, as he sought out the Ha-Satan. He barely acknowledged the presence of warrior angel Liftheon, who guarded the Seventh Hall and remained unaware of the Archangel’s actions. The unaccustomed feeling of anger and dread drove him with urgent desperation through the levels, until he found the Chief of the Seraphim at the very highest.

The Dome of Heaven arced overhead, stars sparkling in variegated colors, galaxies and nebulae adding another spectrum of luminescent glory to the heavens. The Ha-Satan stood in regal glory in the center of three whirling galaxies, arranging and rearranging them within the Void, when he appeared.

“We are found out,” Lucifer said, without preamble, the silvery-blue rays flashing. “The Warrior Mihdael has betrayed us.”

“Explain.” Tension edged the calmly spoken word. The golden-red aura, suffused with blue-white, dimmed a mere fraction in Lucifer’s radiance, as the Archangel closest to God prepared for the worst.

“I had summoned Michael, as we had agreed, on the pretext of a great danger threatening Heaven itself. He, of course, arrived without question, into the Grove of Tekite-Trees. Mephistopheles, Belial, Astaroth, and three warriors were waiting; and, as he turned to face me, his sword drawn and ready, they threw the iron chains about him, forced the sword from his grip. Even with the Tekite draining his power, he still nearly escaped us.

“I then called upon Asmodeus, promised him one-third of our power if he would aid us, and freedom for the Old Ones if our Rebellion succeeded; he agreed to do so. He helped to subdue Michael, and himself bound the Archangel to the Tekite-Tree. Then, having completed my request, returned to his dimension. All had gone well, and needed only the warrior’s final action to actuate our rebellion.”

Lucifer paused, attempting to bank the rage he felt. He had not expected Mihdael to back Michael. Not after being humbled by him, and certainly not after the Guardianship of Eden and the command of the Sentinels had been taken from him by Michael. Actions that had more than proved that the Archangel had agreed with Lord Adam that Mihdael was inferior, and therefore unworthy to guard Eden. After suffering such slights and insults, Michael’s Second-in-Command would surely want revenge, or so he had thought; but the warrior was either more forgiving, or more frightened, of Michael then Lucifer had believed. “I called then upon the Angel Mihdael, who had affirmed his allegiance to us, to carry out the execution of Michael and assume command of the Army--”

“You are certain he understood?” the Ha-Satan interrupted quietly, placing the galaxies in stasis. “That the Army was to be given to him. That no other would command.”

“Yes, for when I mentioned the possibility to him, he did not refuse or reject it. He seemed anxious to have that command, to be free of Michael’s tyranny. Yet, he faltered when I gave him Michael’s sword, then broke his vow to me--to us, and freed Michael. The Archangel destroyed his own warriors, with the traitor’s help, before we could escape.”

Lucifer intentionally omitted Mihdael’s part in his own escape; he had yet to figure that out for himself. “Now, Michael is aware of our plans, along with whatever Mihdael chooses to tell him. Michael grovels at God’s feet, and will inform Him of our plans.”

The Ha-Satan moved gracefully about the Heavenly chamber, silent and thoughtful. “As you said, the Warrior’s betrayal is serious; but not disastrous--not yet.”

The center of the Ha-Satan’s being flared and sparkled in deep, brilliant flashes of red and crimson, as the exquisite ruby that marked the office of the Ha-Satan reflected the Seraph’s own radiance. “No, we are not undone. Angel Salathiel is bound to me. At my command, he will disrupt the frequencies of the Spheres, will throw the Universe into such disarray that even Michael’s army will be too disorientated to be aware of us. We will strike then.

“Michael is mine; and I give Mihdael to you. You may deal with the traitor as you wish.”

II

Mihdael ran his hand through the cool, crystal waters of Eden’s river trying, for the moment, not to think about his appearance before the Holy Trinity. Relieved of duty until that time, he chose to spend the interim among the surroundings most suited to his nature, surroundings he had grown to love. Idrael said nothing against his presence, and he shared the guardianship in spirit if not by directive. Yet the uncertainty, the not knowing, could not be ignored, for Michael held great power and high position, third in line after Uriel and Gabriel. His words would be listened to, his opinions and beliefs accepted without question. If he should be found at fault, he would never be allowed in Eden again. He feared he would be imprisoned somewhere, if he escaped outright destruction.

“Will you not drink of the river’s cool water?”

Mihdael turned sharply at the voice. He had not heard her approach, so absorbed he had been with his own thoughts. Some warrior, some defender, he was proving to be.

He knelt. “My Lady Eve,” he said quietly, then resumed his sitting position on the riverbank. Seated, he would not be so tall, so intimidating--for when standing, she reached barely to his chest. “Angels neither thirst nor hunger,” he continued, answering her question.

She approached him, unafraid. She did not seem to be intimidated by any of his kind. He watched her graceful movements, once again marveling at her form: how different, yet pleasing. He perceived more than just mere beauty in her features, more than a perfect, unmarred visage of character. As if all the purity, perfection, and integrity of an angel’s hallowed nature had been combined, then condensed into form and substance, graced with her own purity of spirit. He glanced behind her, to see that her Guardian Angel stood nearby, unobtrusive.

“You are…a warrior? One of the Sentinels who guards Eden, my mate, and myself?”

“Yes, My Lady, I am called Mihdael. No one attends you this day?” He didn’t know why he had asked that. Perhaps because he had never seen her so clearly, had never spoken to her without thirty or forty other angels around, as well as her mate.

“Adam is at the oceans, attending to all that live there. And your fellow angels, they, too, appear to have concerns elsewhere. So for the time my only company is my gentle Guardian and you, kind angel.”

“I am honored by your company, Lady Eve.” Honored, and a little uncomfortable. He found it increasingly difficult not to look at her, not to notice all the…differences. To notice how her thick, luxurious hair fell in coppery-blonde waves, following the curves and contours of her body. To notice the fairness of her form, the soft, smooth glow of her ivory skin, to notice -- that she seemed unaware of any of it.

“What is this that covers you so completely, and keeps you from others’ sight?” She didn’t refer to the glow that surrounded him, as all other angels had brilliant auras as well. But only Michael, and his warriors (along with any other angel called upon to battle evil), wore armor and the clothing that went with it. All other angels were as Man, and had no need of clothing, most preferring the lightly worn drapery.

“It is armor, tunic, and cloak; all necessary for my office as warrior. It is protection from the forces of--” He stopped. He’d almost said ‘Evil’, had almost given her the knowledge that he was forbidden to give. Neither she, nor Adam, knew anything of the Evil that existed outside of Eden; and it was to stay that way until God decided otherwise. Their defense of Eden was, as far as they knew, from the forces of Nature and the Universe. “Of my travels,” he finished, knowing that she was aware that angels traveled through Time and Space.

More questions sparkled in her green-blue eyes, but she didn’t ask them. “Your gaze wanders from me, and you look to Heaven often. Your thoughts are elsewhere.”

“I mean you no disrespect.”

"But your thoughts are troubled?”

“I am only saddened that I may be leaving Eden soon. God may have need of me elsewhere.”

“You will be called to Heaven?” Her eyes brightened with the desire for knowledge, and he longed to give her anything she desired. “Adam, and your fellow angels, have told me of God’s Heaven; as God Himself has spoken to me of it as well. Is it truly wondrous? More wondrous than Eden?”

“Yes, my Lady, more wondrous than Eden, than any other creation of God.” Mihdael doubted that he would be called to Heaven; and if the decision went against him, he would be banished from there, also. “I have not the words to describe it to you, for I am only a warrior, and unused to words that please and delight.”

“Then I will be content to wait, as God has promised it to us. And I find your words very pleasing, kind warrior." She reached over, her slim, delicate fingers touching his face lightly. “You have many important duties, yet you allow me to keep you from them…”

Her touch shattered every coherent thought he had. But he could not pull back, for such action would be insulting beyond words; yet, the continued contact was nearly unbearable-- unbearably pleasant. He wanted more, he wanted all that she was; and he wanted to be as far away from Eden as possible. No other touch had affected him so, had awakened such sensations within him. This was not like the warm, comforting touch of his fellow angels--or even Adam; this touch left him trembling inside.

Then she withdrew her hand and stepped back, and he felt a sense of vast relief sweep over him. "I will leave you to your duties, and take no more of your time."

Mihdael rose then, and bowed. "My time is yours, my Lady. You need only to call upon me, and I will answer."

*** *** ***
She had no sooner departed, than God’s voice reached him.

Angel Mihdael… Attend Me.

He knelt, the pure Light washing over him. “I am here, my Lord God.”

Eve pleases thou, doest she not?

“She is…different. I am drawn to her.”

She is different, as is Adam. They are My perfect creations, and I keep Evil from them so they wilt not be corrupted.

“But, she is the only one such as herself that You have created. As Adam is the only one of his kind. Would You consider creating more?”

There is no need. Eve is for Adam, as Adam is for Eve.

“Would You consider, then, creating another one such as Eve--for me?”

My kind warrior, thou knowest not what thou asks.

“Explain, and I will listen.”

My angels, I hath found, are not perfect. They are very close to My ultimate creation, but their failings are many. That is why they are not self-propagating. To many of My highly developed creations I hath given vast knowledge and great power; yet, with that knowledge and power came Evil and corruption. This I wilt keep from Man, until such a time as I deem he wilt have it. But I am fair, and hath given Man that which I hath given to no other previous, intelligent, creation: Mankind wilt have the ability to carry Life. Man and Woman shall come together, and Mankind wilt be born of them.

An almost overwhelming sense of awe came over Mihdael. Only God gave Life, and now Mankind was given that wondrous gift? “You have given them the power to create Life? They are truly gods, and worthy of the service of angels--as You well knew.”

No, they are not gods. They are Man. They do not create Life from nothingness, but only from their joining together. They hath no power over Death; they canst not return to Life one that has died.

“Yet, to be able to continue one’s own kind, in mind, body, and soul; to create a being separate from Your hand…This … coming together, this…joining… What is it?”

Thou asketh too many questions of Me, Angel. Be content to know that Mankind is thine to defend; thou art pledged to honor and serve them. Eve is to be given unto Adam; she wilt be the mother of her race -- of Mankind.

There wilt be no other influence involved. To do so -- without My consent -- wilt be a sin of the highest order, with no penance, no forgiveness, and no atonement. There wilt be only swift and all-consuming punishment.

“I do not completely understand Your words, Father; but I obey them. I did not intend an intrusion into the world of Man, nor to undermine Your Will concerning them. I will keep my place as their guardian, and as Your warrior.”

III

Archangel Michael, Angel Mihdael, thee wilt attend the Holy Trinity in audience, as requested by Michael.

Michael appeared, in mortal form, and knelt on the marble floor, emerald wings cast back and down. “I am here, my Lord God.”

Mihdael alighted next to him, and knelt. “I am here, my Lord God, in answer to Your summons.”

Michael rose, while Mihdael remained kneeling. “I am here to bear witness against the Angel Mihdael, Order of Warrior; and, if You so order, to bring suitable punishment for his treasonous acts.”

Give forth thy charges, Michael. We wilt listen and judge.

Time ceased in the open, brilliantly lit chamber, the silence unnerving as the Holy Trinity listened to Michael's charges, and then considered them. The Creator leaned forward, His features kind, yet revealing none of His thoughts.

Archangel Michael stood aside, his hand resting lightly on the pommel of his sword.

Hast thou anything to say in thy defense, Angel Mihdael?

Mihdael looked up into the glowing radiance above him. “You know my true intentions. I need not voice it, or You also know my mind and heart.”

Michael stepped closer to the Golden Throne. "The collusion with Lucifer was still there, nonetheless, Father. He admits his suspicions, and, having acknowledged the first suspicions, the conversations and meetings--all held in secret--should never have taken place at all. Unless he agreed with their treachery against You.

“He has broken his vow of obedience to You.”

I will not hold My angels at fault for uncommitted actions, Michael. Thy warrior hast no need to defend himself against the truth.

Thou hast done no wrong, Mihdael; thy vow to Me hast not been broken. Return now to thy post in Eden, and resume thy guardianship of Mankind.

“I thank You, Father.” Mihdael rose, but as he turned to leave, Michael blocked his path.

The Archangel didn’t look at him, but at their Creator and Father. For the first time in memory, he saw Michael torn between obeying God, or rejecting His decision and act upon his own initiative. Then, finally, he stepped aside, and his eyes, as his gaze lowered to the angel, burned a cold flame, closed and distant.

And the joy he had felt at God’s continued faith in him was tempered by his Commander’s lack of it.

IV

Michael.

The Archangel knelt. “Yes, my Lord God?”

Thou doest not agree with My decision, nor with My assessment of the Angel Warrior Mihdael?

“My concern is for You and Your Kingdom. Am I not the Archangel given charge of You and Heaven?”

That is so. There was no implied doubt or criticism of thy judgment, Michael. I hath already lost two who were the closest to My heart and soul, and there wilt be more-- many, many more,,,

It will not stop with two.

"Will You then not act to prevent such events? Will You not command them to return to You and Your Realm?”

Must I command My children to love Me? Must I dictate and demand all the Sons of Light to obey My Will? No, this I will not do. No other angel will suffer the penalty of the Angels of Peace and Truth. I granted My angels free will to decide their fates, to choose their destiny. Yet, I love them still, and wilt forgive them if they asketh it of Me; but I cannot stay their punishment.

There are many possible results from their actions; and I wilt allow them the freedom to turn from Me. But I tell thee now, that those who believe in Me, and follow Me, wilt not be forsaken by Me. As thy Creator and Father, I must give all equal opportunity to recant and return to Me, even if done at the last possible second.

So, it wilt fall to thee, My trusted defender, to stand against thy brothers; and, if need be, to deal with them as thou wouldst any who defy My Law and threaten My Kingdom. As I ask this of thee, Archangel Michael, will thou go against those of thine own heart and soul? Canst thou willingly and freely choose to remain at My side and defend thy Father and God from all Mine enemies?

"Yes, Father, I willingly and freely choose to fight for You and Heaven. I will defend You from Your enemies…all of them."

Then rise, and prepare the Armies, for the moment of battle draweth near. The enemy wilt be met on their own terms, and they will rise against us in many and varied form. Their power and number wilt be great, but I will be with thee. Those who fall in battle will earn My Grace and Heaven’s Glory.

Keep thee to thy faith, Michael, and I will be with thee always.

NEXT: Chapter 15 -- Eve of War 01/09/09