Angel Warriors: The Serialized Novel

I

From henceforth, Archangel ******, thou shalt be known by that title which hast corrupted thou. Thou shalt be called Satan, and thy name forevermore live in infamy, dishonor, and shame. Thine Evil deeds and words shalt be known for all time. Thou wilt be Evil incarnate. I sentence thou to the nether region of Hell itself, to remain there until the End of Time. And all those who hath rebelled against Me wilt share thy punishment. For thou and thy followers art now known as the Fallen, and wilt be Cast Out from My Sight and My Realm!

Michael, thou wilt Cast Out this Fallen Archangel from My Presence!

Sheathing his sword, Michael approached Satan, who turned on him with cold contempt.

“You dare to touch me?!” The radiance flared with imperious defiance.

Immediately, blue arcs of energy enveloped the tall, elegant form. The glorious aura flickered, and then faded, leaving the once radiant being enshrouded in Darkness as cold and deep as Hell itself. Horrified at the sudden, all-consuming change, the Ha-Satan physically turned away from God. Darkening wings wrapped around the Fallen Archangel, and Satan's soul-wrenching scream of despair and hate echoed throughout Heaven as Michael cast the Fallen One from God's Realm.

As for thee, Lucifer, thou thought thyself to be as great as I. Thou sought My Throne, My Rule. Thou art banished from My Presence until such time as thou repents and asks My forgiveness. Thou shalt be condemned to the Dark Regions with Satan. Thou art to be the Light-Bringer no longer.

Thou art to be Cast Out with Satan!

Michael turned with studied intent to Mihdael. “Warrior Mihdael, you will Cast Out this Fallen Archangel.”

Mihdael hesitated, looking from Michael to Lucifer; both wore expressions that were stern, implacable, and unyielding. He knelt, looked up into the white radiance above them. “Father, the author of this rebellion has been banished. I ask now for Your Mercy for Your most-loved Son of Light. Forgive his weakness, and his pride; for it was pride in that which You gave him that You now condemn.

“Be merciful, Father. Cast him not from his brothers, from Your heart—”

There is no mercy for those who sin, then ask not for My forgiveness. My Judgment stands.

Obey. Cast Out this Archangel, or join Lucifer in his exile in Hell.

Lucifer strode forward, voice contemptuous, as he interrupted, “I need not the pleas of an Angel on my behalf. I speak for myself. And I say now as I did before: I will not serve inferior beings. I will not resign my office; and I will not beg forgiveness for actions that You allowed – no, demanded – of me.”

Michael turned to Mihdael, “See now his true self? This is the Godless creature you seek to defend and befriend?”

Mihdael bowed his head before God, “I ask forgiveness, Father; I meant no disrespect or denial of Your Judgment.”

Thou art forgiven, Mihdael.

Speak now, Lucifer, MorningStar and Bringer of Light; I wilt consider Mihdael’s request for mercy on thy behalf. Wilt thou abandon thy claims of Godhood, and willingly atone for thy transgressions against Me, thy brother Archangels, and the Heavenly Hosts?

Only by asking for forgiveness and accepting atonement may thou be allowed to remain in Heaven.

What is thy answer?

“I ask no forgiveness, nor do I accept atonement. I neither fear, respect, nor obey a God who casts out the strong in favor of the weak, who raises the Earth over the Stars, and allows rebellion so He may destroy to His benefit.

“Cast me out, imprison me where You will--for any prison will be freedom from You! ”

Very well. Michael, grant his request.

God’s once-favored Archangel faced
Michael’s approach with his own sword raised, his stance defiant. Mihdael got to his feet, intending to stop Lucifer from challenging Michael – a challenge that could only end with Lucifer’s destruction. But he had hardly advanced a few steps, when his Commander had thrown Lucifer to the marble floor, and disarmed him – all done without drawing his own sword.

Lucifer got unsteadily to his feet, his left leg bent from having taken the brunt of the fall. His golden brown eyes blazed hatred at Michael, and his features twisted with loathing, “You should destroy me now, Archangel, while you have the chance; while you can do so, easily and without effort.

“For if you do not destroy me now, I will destroy you. This I swear to you: by Satan, you will die by my hand!”

“ ‘By Satan’? I doubt that. Satan has no power over me; Satan has no power at all. And as God has not commanded me to destroy you, you will be Cast Out with Satan, as our Father has commanded.”

The Archangel cast the bolts of AngelFire at the now Fallen Archangel. The brilliant arcs surrounded Lucifer’s being, seared into his very soul; then the energy of God and Heaven hurled him from the Celestial Realm, through Eden’s Gate, and down…

…Down to the cruel, harsh depths of Hell. Down to lowest domain possible for a created, living being. Down to the nadir of despair, desolation, and damnation. And he could only look up, for there were none lower than himself.

The remaining Angels and demons that had followed Lucifer and Satan in the Rebellion, now followed them in the Fall from Grace. For the Angels and Archangels, the Fall was much worse than it was for the demons. No longer did the Fallen glow with the brilliance of God’s Light; no longer did they find shelter and peace in God’s Grace; and no longer were they beings of purity and perfection.

Their souls and forms grew dark, their forms reflecting their rejection of God. Beautiful, feathery wings became thick leathery membranes, suspended from bony ridges and arches that glistened with scales, the edges serrated and torn. The warmth of God’s Light left them, as did the feelings of hope, love, and integrity; for such emotions could not exist and thrive apart from God, and the Fallen were left with only their hatred, their desolation, and their despair.

For nine days, they fell; and when the hard, frozen ground of Hell halted their Fall, their souls were crushed within them.

II

Satan’s hatred and fury stoked the cold flames of Hell. Dominion over the damned souls of Angels and demons did little to assuage the loathing that still burned within the heartless breast. The Fallen were banished from Heaven, and barred from Eden.

But Satan was not one to let decrees and rules interfere with retribution; and the Evil One knew exactly how to achieve revenge against the creatures that had dared to displace the Ha-Satan.

NEXT: CHAPTER 20 -- ULITMATE TRAGEDY 02/27/09

I

“Lady Eve…”

Eve glanced down at the softly spoken voice. A blue-green serpent, standing upright on its spindly hind legs, was barely visible in the deep shadows cast by the dense ground foliage.

“Yes, serpent, I hear you. Come from the sheltering ferns, that I might see you more clearly.”

“Alas, Milady, the sun’s brilliance is too great for my weak eyes. I thought only to keep you company while in the Garden.”

“Very well. Shall we seek the shade of a tree? We shall sit together and talk.”

She followed the serpent into the denser, forested area of the Garden, then paused at a small clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a tall, broad-limbed Tree. “Hold, serpent; we stand before the Tree of Knowledge. Neither Adam nor I are allowed to go near it.”

“Oh, surely not, Lady Eve. God has given unto Adam absolute dominion over all that exists in Eden. Would that not include this Tree as well?”

“I have looked upon it often,” she admitted.

“It is beautiful, is it not? Look how perfectly the branches reach upward to Heaven; see how the leaves form a cooling, verdant canopy.” The serpent dropped to all fours, scampering over the thick carpet of grass and flowers. It stopped a few feet from the tree trunk, gazed up into the dark, shadowy branches. “And, see, too,” thin arm-like limbs waved toward the heavily laden branches, “the richly colored fruit. It must taste very sweet, like sugared honey.”

“I do not know, serpent; we are not permitted to eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.”

“Why ever not?” The serpent bounded toward the Tree, scurried up the huge trunk and disappeared into the dark heights. Only the rustling of leaves and shivering of branches indicated its trek to the top, then back down again. The serpent’s full length – and it was almost as long as Adam was tall – wound about the Tree, its head level with Eve’s line of vision. “See? There is no danger, no harm here. It is a perfectly wonderful Tree, as is all life in Eden. How can something so good and useful be harmful? You should not be deprived of it.”

The serpent’s eyes held hers with a mesmerizing quality. She looked from the orange-yellow eyes to the tempting fruit only an arm’s length away. Then she stepped back, shaking her head. “No… God has forbidden us to partake of this Tree’s fruit. If we do so, God has said we will surely die.”

“Did God not grant you Free Will? Did He not expect you to learn, and grow, and make decisions? Why would He grant you everything in the Garden, but hold back one?”

“I know not; but I obey His Words.”

“Would God intentionally place in the Garden anything that would harm you?”

“There is nothing of harm to us in the Garden.”

“Then this Tree will not harm you.”

Eve paused, looking back at the Tree, the serpent, and the fruit. She approached the Tree again, closer this time.

“God wishes for you to learn all that there is to know of Eden. If the fruit of Eden is good for you, then this, too, is good for you. Did God say that it would not be good for you?”

“God said neither good nor bad. Only that we would die if we ate the fruit.”

“You cannot die. You are of God, and He is immortal. Only ignorance can die, and give birth to knowledge and life. Perhaps God is waiting to see if you will choose to let ignorance die, and gain the Knowledge that God has placed here for you.”

Eve studied the serpent thoughtfully. All the animals in Eden were created by God; they were all good, and kind, and perfect. None of them had ever sought to harm her or Adam by word or deed. On the contrary, God had commanded every living creature in the Garden to honor and obey both her and Adam.

The serpent’s thin arm reached out, and a tiny, three-fingered hand caressed the velvety texture of the golden-red fruit. “See, I can touch it, and no harm comes to me. It is soft, and the fragrance is wondrous. Touch it; it will not harm you.”

Tentatively at first, Eve reached upward, her fingertips brushing against the downy surface. And nothing at all happened. She felt no different; nothing had changed in any way.

“Take it…” The serpent’s soft, cajoling voice guided her hand as she broke the fruit from the thin branch. “Taste it, and know Good and Evil… You will not die, for you will know all that God knows. Your ignorance will die, and you will be as one with God…”

Eve brought the fruit to her lips; it had a strong, heady aroma – not unpleasant, but very beguiling. She looked trustingly at the serpent. “I will not die?”

“No. You will be like God, knowing Good and Evil.”

She bit into the fruit, a small bite at first; the flavor was a tantalizing blend of tart and sweet; she took another, larger bite. “It is… wondrous! Never have I tasted anything like it in the Garden.”

The serpent’s head bobbed, as it nodded in agreement, “And you are still safe and well. No harm has befallen you.”

“No, it has not.” She looked at the serpent with eyes bright with newfound Knowledge. “I must tell Adam; I must show him this wondrous fruit!”

And the serpent’s form shook with maniacal laughter, as Eve ran to find her mate, completely unaware that her eyes had been opened to Good and Evil.

*** *** ***

The serpent slithered silently to the ground as Eve ran off, eagerly searching for Adam.

And deeply buried within its small consciousness, the serpent’s true being begged for release. ‘You have accomplished your purpose, Satan. Leave me now, for I can endure your presence no longer.’

‘You will be silent and obedient, else I shall rip apart your miniscule brain. Your mate will find you quite useless, I assure you.’

‘But, I have done as you asked, allowed you to possess me in exchange for greater knowledge.’

‘That greater knowledge you shall have, and soon. But now, we will follow Eve – for this Knowledge is for all.’

IV

Adam glanced up from his inspection of one of the myriad varieties of orchids; he had been puzzling over a name for this particular genus, when he heard Eve calling for him. He watched fondly as she ran over the thick soft grass, her coppery-blonde hair billowing behind her like the delicate Willow branches in a strong wind.

“Adam! Look! Look what I have discovered!” Her voice was rushed with excitement, and she held something in her hand.

She slowed to a walk for the last few feet, and he saw that she was holding some type of fruit. “What have you found, Eve?”

“Fruit, unlike any we have ever had.”

She held it out to him, and he frowned. ‘Is that not the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge?”

“Yes! Is it not beautiful! Is it not fragrant and pleasant to the senses?”

Dread swept over him, and he looked to the sky. It was as always: brilliant blue with wisps of white clouds. He looked down at his mate’s blue-green eyes – eyes that were somehow different. “What have you done, woman?”

“I ate of the fruit, and see, I did not die. Only my ignorance died, and Knowledge has been born within me.”

“Knowledge? What knowledge would you need that has not already been given you by God and myself?”

“All the Knowledge that God left for us to discover. Taste the fruit, and you will know.”

Adam’s dark eyes looked at the ripe, tempting fruit; there were two bites already taken out of it. And as she had said, she did not die, but still stood before him, vibrant and vital with life – and more, with Knowledge. Knowledge that he, Adam, did not have.

“Share it with me, Adam; share with me the Knowledge equal to God’s, as we have shared all other aspects of Eden.”

Adam nodded. He was, after all, equal to God – by God’s Own spoken words. He took the fruit from her hand, and bit deeply into it. At first, other than the sweet/tart taste, nothing happened.

And then…

And then the Knowledge came to him.

Of Good and Evil, and the consequences thereof.

The world around him seemed to dim, although the sun still shone brightly in the sky. He looked down at Eve, and she recoiled from his gaze, a sudden fear and shame in her eyes as she covered herself from him. And he looked down at himself, and felt an overwhelming sense of shame at his own nakedness.

The remainder of the fruit fell from his hand as he turned away from Eve’s shocked and frightened sight.

“We are naked, woman; we must cover ourselves.”

Eve followed him into the underbrush, the ground suddenly hard and cold beneath her bare feet. The breeze chilled her skin, and the shadows were deeper in the wooded area… shadows her eyes could no longer penetrate.

Adam was tearing leaves from the Fig tree, slowly at first, as if uncertain of his actions; then, more quickly, as if he had to finish before… before what?

“Take these,” he handed her several of the small leaves, “and fashion a covering for yourself.”

*** *** ***

Eve longed for the warmth of the Sun as the wind chilled her skin. The ground felt hard and cold beneath her bare feet as she concealed herself in the underbrush. Deepening shadows filled the woods, frightening shadows her eyes could no longer penetrate.

Awkward at first, she managed to weave a meager covering for herself and Adam from the Fig leaves. She tried to allay her sense of dread. After all, had not the kind Angel Warrior told her that Angels wore coverings? What had he called it? Armor and tunic? There could be no Evil in that…

But Adam, she knew, was angry. He spoke little to her, and his eyes were not kind when he looked at her.

She started to call for that kind warrior, but something stopped her. Knowledge stopped her…

She was afraid. If Adam was angry, then God would be angry, too. And as if to give truth to her very thoughts, the sky overhead darkened; roiling, black clouds appeared, filling the sky and concealing the sun.

V

Heaven’s foundations trembled with God’s fury. The Heavenly Host, knowing the cause of it, sided solemnly with their Creator.

They hath broken My Commandment! I gave unto to them everything, asking of them only one thing in return! If they want the Knowledge of Good and Evil so badly, then I shalt give it to them! For they wilt know death as well!

As God raised His Hand to send destruction upon Eden, Archangel Michael appeared before Him. The Commander of the Army knelt before the Golden Throne, head bowed and wings cast back. “Father, I beg of You, hear my words.”

Powerful elemental forces swirled around God’s Hand, then abated as he lowered His arm to His side. Thou may speak, Michael.

“Father, do not destroy Man, I beg of You. Show them mercy; reserve Your Judgment for the one who is truly at fault.”

They knowingly disobeyed Me. Even when I told them they would die, they did so anyway. They have made their choice.

“Eve was deceived by the serpent possessed by Satan; she did not know Satan was speaking to her. Even if she had known, she would not know that Satan is Evil and wished great harm to befall Mankind. She had no reason not to believe a creature of Your Creation, Lord.

“I ask mercy for them.”

She didst not need such knowledge in order to obey My Command.

“Then, as their Guardian, and the Guardian of Eden, I ask that any punishment You decree for Adam, Eve, and Eden, be levied upon me.”

“And myself as well, Father,” Mihdael quietly added his voice to Michael’s. He knelt next to his Commander, fully prepared to face destruction with him.

The disobedience was not thine, My Warriors. Yet, both of thee art willing to take upon thineselves their punishment?

“To spare Mankind and Eden, yes, I would do so.” Michael answered, his armament fading; he knelt before God as he was created.

“As do I, Father.” Mihdael also divested himself of his protective armor. There was no need to resist or prolong the destructive power when it fell upon them.

Then the Heavens grew quiet; and God’s fury subsided, although the disappointment and anger remained. He looked down on His warriors and defenders with great love.

If thee art willing to accept the destruction of thine souls, then I accept thy pleas on Mankind’s behalf.

I wilt not destroy them.

But they must bear the responsibility of their actions.

“Thank You, Father.” Michael stood, and Mihdael stood silently behind him. “I ask also that You be lenient with them. They are not Evil. They are deserving of Your Love and Compassion. I ask that You allow them to atone for their mistake.”

Thou hast great confidence in them, Michael.

Very well, if all involved accept responsibility and are willing to accept My punishment – as thee were willing to accept destruction to spare them – then I will forgive them.

I wilt reward honesty and truth with compassion and mercy.

However, if either of them takes not the blame unto themselves, they will be grievously punished.

But they will live, and Eden will continue without them.

“Such is all I ask of You, Father. Let their true and pure natures be revealed toYou, and You will find they are worthy of Your Mercy."

*** *** ***

Adam and Eve heard the Lord God walking through the Garden. Adam shrank back from Him, and sought the refuge of the forest. Eve, as his mate and companion, followed him.

Adam. Thou wilt attend Me.

Eve started forward, but halted when Adam made no move to answer God’s summons. She looked back at him, then returned to her place next to him.

Adam, I hath called to thee. Where art thou?

Again, Adam remained still and silent.

Thou wilt answer thy Father and Creator, Adam. Attend My Words.

Although God’s voice was commanding, there was no anger in His voice. Eve took his hand, waited for him to respond.

Instead, he pulled free of her gentle grasp and stumbled over to sheltering branches of the Willow tree. He neither looked at her, nor spoke to her… or to God.

A powerful gust of wind swept through Eden, the Garden, the forest. The Willow branches parted like a curtain, revealing Adam to God’s Eyes. Lightning cut the dark sky into jagged fragments, and thunder tore open the heavens, the terrible sound it made painful to hear.

Adam fell to his knees, hands clasped tightly over his ears to shut out the harrowing, thunderous rage of God. And Eve cried out, falling next to him, as she experienced pain for the first time in her life.

The wind grew stronger, and the trees bowed before it. The darkness deepened, their vision blinded by the brilliant arcs of lightning. A force accompanied the wind, and swept them up and out of the concealing forest and into the clearing.

Why dost thou not answer Me? Why dost thou hide thyselves from Mine Eyes?

“I… heard You in the Garden, and I was afraid, Father,” Adam finally managed to stammer out a response.

And why art thou afraid?

“I was afraid because I am…am naked, Father; and I hid from You.”

Who told thee that thou art naked?

Adam remained silent.

Hast thee eaten fruit from the Tree I commanded thou not to eat from?

Adam moved away from Eve, and then pointed at her. “That woman, the one that You gave unto me, took some fruit from the Tree, gave it to me, and I ate it.”

The Lord God turned to Eve, a great sadness in His eyes. What hast thou done?

“The serpent deceived me. It spoke falsely to me, and said I would not die, but gain Knowledge. I ate of the fruit, and brought the fruit to Adam.”

God commanded the serpent to appear, and it approached with great trepidation. Thou sought to deceive and corrupt My mortal creation?

“Not me, my Lord God. The Evil of Satan came upon me, and forced me to speak the words to Eve. Satan promised me knowledge and power, and then granted me neither, leaving me alone to face You.”

Thou, serpent, allowed Satan power over thou, for Satan cannot possess any who are unwilling.

Thou, Adam, took the counsel of the woman over My command. Thou hast broken thy Covenant with Me.

“I would not have eaten of the fruit if the woman hath not bade me to do so. She had eaten the fruit, and did not die. She had gained Knowledge. Knowledge of Evil, and how to beguile me into disobeying Your command.

“It was the woman who picked the Forbidden Fruit; it was was the woman who first ate of it; it was the woman who brought that fruit to me, and tempted me to eat of it as well.

“If I destroy the woman, will not all be set right?”

Eve looked fearfully at Adam, then at God. She lowered her gaze and bowed her head. Hers had been the first transgression; she could not deny that.

And thou, Adam, hast refused to accept responsibility for thine own actions. Thou refused to assert thyself to the woman, and gave in to her request.

Only Eve hast been truthful and honest with Me.

God’s angry gaze lowered to the serpent.

Thine was the first transgression.

Because thou hast done this, thou are cursed more than all the wild or domestic animals.

Thou wilt henceforth crawl upon thy belly on the ground, deprived of arms and legs.

Thou wilt be the lowest of animals for as long as thou shalt live.

I wilt make thou and the woman hostile toward each other.

I wilt make thine descendants and her descendants hostile toward each other.

He wilt crush thy head, and thou wilt bruise his heel.

The serpent writhed in agony as its arms and legs faded away. It crawled off into the forest, forever humbled by God, and loathed by Mankind.

God turned to Eve.

Thine was the second transgression.

I wilt increase thy pain and thy labor when thou giveth birth to children.

Yet, thou wilt long for thine husband, and he wilt rule thou.

Eve accepted God’s punishment in silence, tears of sorrow and shame streaming down her face.

God turned to Adam.

Thine was the third transgression.

Thou heeded the words of thy mate, and ate from the fruit of the Tree, although I commanded of thou: ‘Thee must never eat its fruit.’

The ground is cursed because of thrr.

Through hard work thou wilt eat food that comes from it every day of thine life.

The ground wilt grow thorns and thistles for thee, and thou wilt eat wild plants.

By the sweat of thy brow, thou shalt produce food to eat until thou returns to the ground, because thou was taken from it.

For thou are dust, and to dust shalt thou return.

God made for them clothing from animal skins.

All the animals of Eden are still subject to thee. As thee are sent from the Garden, so are they. The animals are placed there for thine use: for food and clothing. Thee and thine descendants are to provide for all the animals, and ensure that they never perish completely from the earth.

God then summoned the Archangels and Angels to Him.

The Man hast become as one of us, since he knoweth Good and Evil. Therefore, he must not be allowed to reach out and partake of the fruit from the Tree of Life, for if he dost so, he wouldst live forever.

And the Lord God set over the Tree of Life the fearsome Cherubim Archangel with the Flaming Sword that turned in all directions.

Michael, thou are the premier Guardian of Eden. Thou wilt Cast Out Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden.

Michael turned to Adam, who cowered before the Archangel’s awesome radiance. “You will take your mate and get you to Eden’s Gate.”

“Prince Michael, have mercy upon us. How will we live outside of the Garden? Here, everything is provided for us. I know naught of growing plants from the ground, or gleaning food and clothing from animals. Will you not stand by us?”

“You have placed yourselves outside of God’s Covenant and Grace. You must pray to our God and Father for guidance and mercy, for I can grant you neither.

“You will now leave the Garden.”

Adam remained obstinate, too fearful to leave the comfort of the only home he had ever known.

Michael unsheathed his sword, the blue-white flames leaping from the crystal blade. “You will obey God’s Command, or I shall carry out His first inclination towards you.”

Faced with no other choice, Adam walked toward Eden’s Gate. Eve followed close behind him, and she looked back often, searching the brilliantly glowing faces of the Angels gathered behind them. She looked back at Michael, who had followed closely, and saw the Angel she was seeking.

Adam paused at the Gate, still hesitant to leave Eden. Michael stood firm behind him, sword raised and arm outstretched, he pointed to the now open Gate. “Go.”

Eve edged around Michael’s aura, and faced the Angel Warrior who had promised her his aid. “You are Mihdael, the Angel Warrior with whom I spoke with so long ago.

“You promised me then that you would aid me if ever I asked it of you. I ask it of you now, kind warrior: aid my mate and myself. Do not allow us to be Cast from our home into the harsh world outside of Eden.”

“My Lady Eve,” Angel Warrior replied in a deep, grieving tone. She could hardly discern his features through the brilliance of his aura, but she could see that his sorrow for them reached further than just his voice. “Gladly would I have fought for your place in Eden; gladly I would have defended you against any and all threats.

“But to do so, I must carry the mantle of Guardian of Eden. I no longer have that title, for Lord Adam wanted the best that Heaven and God had to offer, and such was granted to him.

“Only now does he realize that having the best, is not necessarily the best thing to have.”

“You will do nothing to aid us, then?”

“I cannot, My Lady. I can only act in my capacity as Guardian of Mankind. I shall keep you safe and alive. I shall extend to you such comfort as I am allowed to give. I shall never forsake you or your mate, yet I cannot communicate with you as I do now. Once you pass through the Gate, you will no longer see us, or hear us, or commune with us – not unless God Wills it to be.

“Farewell, My Lady, and know that I shall always be with you and your Guardian Angel.”

“You have been kind and honest with me, Angel Mihdael. I will go with my mate, for my place is always with him.” She joined Adam at the Gate, and took his arm; he did not push her away this time. She smiled sadly back at the angel. “And I will pray to God that one day we will be allowed to see and speak to each other again.”

Without a backward glance, or further word of protest, Adam and Eve crossed through the Gate.

Michael closed it softly behind them.

VII

The Lord God then placed Angels with Flaming Swords at each corner of Eden: East, West, North, and South. He placed them there to guard the Tree of Life, and to prevent any from ever entering the Garden until such a time as Man was permitted to return.

The Garden itself, however, continued to flourish; although devoid of animal and insect life, the plants remained.

Cherubiel, Chief of the Order of Cherubim, was placed in charge of the Tree of Life; no being, neither mortal nor angel, was allowed within its immediate vicinity. Cherubiel’s sword flared brightly with the righteous Fire of God, before which nothing created could long endure. Only Archangel Michael was exempted, and therefore immune to the effects of the Cherub’s flaming sword.

As Commander of the Heavenly Army, none could stand against him; not even the fearsome Cherubim guardians of Eden. And there would be only one instance that would emphasize Michael’s total authority over all the Heavenly Hosts, including the highest ranks of the Cherubim Order.

Michael disbanded the Sentinels of Eden. As no life other than the Heavenly Hosts and the natural flora now existed in the Garden, nothing remained to be defended. The Angels of Heaven were allowed free and open egress into Eden, as long as none of them trespassed on the guardianship of Cherubiel.

Michael, however, had not the heart to visit Eden too often; and he remained in or near Heaven when not on a mission. Eden held no pleasant memories for him. For it was in Eden that he first challenged his Second-in-Command; it was in Eden that he overestimated Adam’s integrity; and it was in Eden that he had been forced to Cast Out the Creator’s best and favored Creations. Eden represented his deepest doubts and sense of failure.

Raphael visited Eden more than any other Archangel. He felt an affinity with the quiet serenity of the lush, vibrant Garden. For the Healer, Eden symbolized a renewal of life, a promise of perpetuity, a venue for immortality offered by Nature and the everlasting beauty it gave… and more, it represented hope for Mankind’s redemption.

And of all the Angels, only Mihdael spent more time in Eden than he did at his own aerie in Heaven. As Michael had not re-instated him as Second-in-Command, he had quite a bit of free time. Eden held only pleasant memories for him: Memories of his earliest discoveries, of peace and tranquility, of the gentle beauty and goodness of Eve. The Garden would always remind him of Eve; and he longed for the day when both she and Adam, the First Man and Woman of Eden, would be allowed to return to their first home.

Eden was the closest he could come to Earth, and still remain in Heaven.

I

Centuries passed, trudging forward for Mankind, flying by the ever-watchful angels. The closeness once shared by Man and God dwindled to sporadic interventions, visions, and the momentous birth, death, and resurrection of His Son on Earth. Faith surged, wavered, waned, and once more escalated, only to succumb to human desires and needs. Through it all, the angels observed, and intervened as God commanded. Mankind fascinated and distressed them, delighted and appalled them, and always mystified them.

Angel Mihdael, in his office of Warrior and Defender of Mankind, longed to be of service, both spiritual and physical. To serve, he needed an objective; to defend, he needed knowledge – more than he already possessed.

To achieve both, he appeared before God. Kneeling, he made a simple request, a whim begat of curiosity, born of responsibility to those under his protection.

“Father, I have observed Mankind from the glorious heights of Heaven, and have aided when and where Thee hast commanded me to do so. Yet, I know naught of their world, their life, or their motivations. Would that I could be as they are, I could better understand and serve them.

“Might I then be allowed to walk amongst them in human guise, to learn of them and from them? Might I then be a better protector for them, knowing their minds and hearts?”

Warrior Mihdael, thou art skilled in thy profession, and wise beyond any Human kin. Yet, that selfsame wisdom guides thou to learn more of Mankind; and to do so, thou knowest also thou must live as one of them.

I wilt grant thy request. Thou wilt serve under one who is faithful to Me. Thou wilt be human in appearance only. Take care, Mihdael, to conceal thy true nature; they will perceive thee as one of them, and such perception wilt be thy own province.

II

Elena Elizabeth Victoria Ravenel stood in the middle of the open Market, cursing the crowd, the animals, the elements, and the world at large. Rain pelted down on her wide-brimmed hat,and splattered on the already soaked mantle. The harsh, cold wind plastered long strands of damp hair across her face, hindering visibility. She clung precariously to her purse, three not-quite-full shopping bags, and her skirts, endeavoring without visible success, to lift them above the muddy, rain filled ruts. Another dirty, shouting street urchin ran by her, pushing her aside; although she was a tall, sturdy woman, the items for the evening meal left her unbalanced, and she stumbled.

“You little beast!” She yelled after the ragged rascal as he looked back at her with an impertinent grin. “Be mindful of where you’re going—oh!”

She overbalanced, and would have fallen if strong hands hadn’t caught her and steadied her on her feet. She turned to look into dark, smiling eyes. “Lady Elena, fancy finding you in my arms.”

“Oh, William,” she smiled in spite of herself. William Willamette, her younger sister’s fiancé, was a sturdy lad of one and twenty. “Why must these…children… run loose among the Market? They are a hazard!”

“But Elena,” he replied gently, taking her heavily laden bags, “they have no where else to go.”

She relented a bit, smiling ruefully. “Yes, but must they always go around me?”

William laughed. “What a mother you will make! What are you planning to do with your children, lock them away in the garret?”

Her smile gave way to a frown. “You presuppose too much, William; a marriage usually precedes children. I have no plans for either.”

Willamette stopped, causing her to pause as well, and his manner and voice grew concerned. “Then, you are not going to honor your father’s marriage arrangement with Squire Richard Mortisse?”

She gave him a stern look, almost the same height as his lanky six-foot frame. “That disgusting old goat saw 100 years twenty years ago! He looks at me as if I were a… a milk cow that he’s buying from my father! I don’t care how rich he is, he’s…he’s rude, and vulgar -- he has no teeth! And,” she finished with loathing, “he comes up to here on me,” she indicated her bosom, “always staring and talking to my… my—”

“Womanly charms?” He finished for her, laughing in spite of himself. He grew serious again. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to be near the toad, but surely there are others?”

“Not any more. I’m six-and-twenty, William; well past my marriageable and childbearing years. Too set in my ways, too… strong-willed and domineering for the brave, hardy men of this village.” ‘The few that are left,' she finished the lament to herself.

The Plague had, miraculously, avoided the small, secluded valley village of Keldon Vale, nestled in the foothills of the northern Pennines. But what Providence had spared, wars and feuds had claimed. Keldon’s marriageable men had dwindled to a handful, leaving only youths under 14 and the aged, well past their 50th year.

“Alas, we are doomed, then,” William’s expression took on a comical forlorn look. “Your father will maintain his old-fashioned traditions, and will not allow any deviation from proper decorum. And now, Sylvie and I cannot marry until Lydia and Charles marry, and they cannot marry until—”

“Until I marry. Yes, my daily reminder.” She wasn’t unkind to him. William was by far her favorite among the limited number of available young men; unfortunately, he loved Sylvie, not her.

He continued speaking, and she made an effort to focus, “…like for me to carry these home for you?”

“Yes, thank you; I should have everything I need. And if I don’t, then we’ll do without until tomorrow. I’m not coming back out in this wretched weather.”

***
Willamette, after securing the top to the carriage, pulled up in front of the Ravenel house. He was instantly alerted that something out of the ordinary had occurred. For one thing, there were three horses in front of the house, with a makeshift travois trailing behind one of them. He could hear voices inside the large house, raised not in alarm or anger, but with joy and happiness.

He helped Elena from the carriage, and giving the rig over to the stable boy, went inside with her. She was hardly past the threshold when she broke into a run, and flung her arms around a tall, heavily bearded and built man standing in the parlor with the rest of the Ravenel family.

“Christopher! You’re back!” She hugged him tightly, “and you’re safe!” She stepped back, looking him over intently and seeing no wounds – a few scars, but nothing recent or life threatening.

“Only by the Grace of God, and one of my quick-thinking soldiers, Elena,” the man replied, white teeth gleaming in the dark beard; but the broad smile faded as he continued. “I am home, yes; but the man who saved my life will not see his home again…”

“What…what happened?” She held tightly to his hand…

***

From his small, dreary corner in the ancient smoke house, Angel Warrior Mihdael ‘heard’ her voice, and the explanations that followed the anxious question. But not the true answer, not his answer…

It had been a simple request: A request to live among humans as a human.

And he had appeared on the battlefield, in an ancient time, near a small village he later learned was called Sorcen. The human commander he had been sent to serve had taken him as one of the men from the village he was defending. Mihdael had chosen to appear as a huge, hulking brute of a warrior; he wore skins and fur under worn, poorly made leather armor. He carried a wooden shield and bronze sword; and he single-handedly defeated half the enemy soldiers without killing a single one. For although he appeared human, he was still an Angel, and he was forbidden to kill any human without the express command of God.

His commander, Christopher Ravenel, was astonished at his superhuman ability; and more astonished at his immense stature. At six-foot-four, he towered a head and a half over the other soldiers; his long, blond hair wild and tangled, his blue eyes glowing with an eerie glint in them – the only physical aspect of the AngeFire that comprised his being. Mihdael pretended to be slow and awkward, not wanting the humans to be too curious about him.

An unfortunate occurrence – to Mihdael’s mind – happened shortly after his appearance. Busily hacking away at the enemy, Captain Ravenel still took note of the newcomer, and had shouted over the noise of clanging swords and fighting soldiers, the roaring fire of the village and the distant thunder of an approaching storm: “Your name, stranger! Who are you, where are you from? To whom is your allegiance?”

A full 180 degree swing of his wooden shield felled five of the enemy, and Mihdael had turned to the Captain, grinning broadly. “Angel Mihdael!”

The Captain had turned sharply to cut down yet another enemy warrior, then yelled back toward him, “McDale? Are you Celtic or Scot?”

“Neither. I am Angel Mihdael.” He knew his accent sounded strange to human ears, but he used the local dialect properly.

“Angus McDale, to whom is your alliegence?”

Mihdael gave up at that point, too busy with the enemy soldiers--although their number had been significantly reduced--to argue the point any further. He waited until the battle was over, and Ravenel’s victorious army took charge of what remained of the invading army, and explained best he could to Ravenel where he had come from and why. It was then that he decided to claim Sorcen as home, which was now a burnt out ruin--homes, fields, livestock all destroyed. Apparently homeless and without family, Ravenel welcomed Mihdael into his army.

For his own protection, Mihdael spoke little to the other members of Ravenel’s army; he stayed to himself, occasionally speaking to Raphael (who had accompanied him as his guide, and remained unseen and unheard by humans), and reacting with slow and uncertain reflexes when not on a battlefield. This calculated behavior resulted in most of the other soldiers either avoiding him completely, or convinced that he was mentally deficient. Which was exactly what Mihdael wanted.

Captain Ravenel, however, accepted him as a strong warrior who had miraculously appeared to turn the tide of battle in his favor; the fact that the warrior appeared to be a slow-witted dullard mattered little to him. If he could understand loyalty to home and hearth, could understand and carry out simple orders on the battlefield, then that was all that Ravenel would require of him.

Then the last battle before returning to Ravenel’s home. An enemy soldier had attacked Ravenel from his blind side, and Mihdael shoved the human aside and took the fatal sword thrust intended for Ravenel.

And that was how he had joined this group of mortal warriors, commanded by a man close to God…

***
“He is here, this soldier who saved you?” Elena looked about expectantly, but saw no evidence of any strangers. None of the household’s three live-in servants were upstairs, where the bedchambers were.

“I had John take him to the smokehouse; he’ll be quite comfortable there, until--” Her father broke off. From the somewhat vague description of the man’s wounds, it was obvious neither her father nor her brother expected him to live much longer.

“I… should see to him,” she reached for her rain-soaked chapeau. “At least express my gratitude for—”

Both men moved to stop her. Christopher spoke first, “Elena, it would not be… proper for you. He isn’t like my other soldiers. He’s…” He hesitated; he didn’t want to speak ill of one who took a fatal sword thrust in his stead, but his sister was expecting to find an ordinary, common soldier. “He’s a foreigner, of very low birth. When not in battle, he appeared slow and dull of wits. I am not certain that his mental facilities are fully developed…”

The Squire Ravenel looked horrified. “You should not be exposed to such a thing; there is nothing you can do for him…”

“I can thank him for returning my brother to me.” She pushed past both of them.

“John,” the Squire motioned to the male house servant, “go with her. Be certain she doesn’t stay with him too long.”

***
Aware of John following close on her heels, Elena sighed inwardly; proper decorum must be maintained at all times, it seemed. She doubted very much if the mortally wounded man would be a threat to her safety or reputation… assuming she even had a reputation to begin with…

The Ravenel house was one of the few homes that had the cookhouse attached to the main house. The smokehouse was a few steps from the cookhouse, and the blustering rain had returned, reinforced with a gale wind. John ran ahead of her to have the door open, but even then, both were soaked and shivering.

The smokehouse was currently empty, awaiting the winter store of venison and ham. A makeshift pallet had been placed before the fireplace, and the dying flames flickered weakly around the damp kindling and logs. It seemed colder in the smokehouse than it did outside, and she pulled her wet cloak tightly around her. Beth, John’s wife and also the maid and cook, came over to her mistress.

“Elena, ye shouldna be here…” she gave her husband a not-too-friendly glare, “It’s cold an’ damp; it’s nae gud for ye—”

“Then how could it possibly be good for him?” Elena gazed over the maid’s ample shoulder, seeing a very large male form lying before the fireplace. The weak light glinted on rain-damp fair hair and beard, both worn wild and tangled; and his large frame was covered with a thin, worn through wool coverlet – she recognized it as having belonged to one of the plow horses, and had been thrown out because of the rat-eaten holes. The man, however, seemed completely unaware of his less-than-attractive surroundings; he was very still, and quiet.

“John, that fire is next to useless.” She shook off the cloak, lifted her skirts from the hard-packed dirt floor as she went to the injured soldier. “Get some dry kindling and wood from the cookhouse; Beth, get fresh linen from Hilde, along with a heavy blanket. Bring them back here quickly.” The servants went to carry out her orders, inadvertently leaving her along with the ‘foreigner’.

Mihdael sensed her presence, but kept his eyes closed and remained unresponsive. If he remained still and quiet, maybe she would leave; he’d be alone, then, and he could end this sham and disappear. The injury he sustained might be fatal to morals, but not to him. He didn’t feel any pain, and had had to fake being in great pain, drawing upon his experiences with the wounded and dying soldiers on the battlefield.

~‘I am supposed to be… ‘unconscious’… Is that correct, Raphael?’~

~‘Yes, you should be unaware of any external stimuli; this state will be easier for thee to fake, as it requires that you basically do nothing. But don’t forget to breathe.’~

~‘I find that more tiresome than anything else…’~

Elena knelt next to him, looked him over with concern; his face and neck – the only part of him not concealed by the blanket – were so dirty from mud, blood, and grime that she couldn’t tell what he looked like. Only that he seemed to be very young, perhaps one and twenty; so many young men, so many of them lost in war… She shook herself of those thoughts, bringing her attention back to the matter at hand.

A small black pot hung on the arm extending over the fire, and the water inside was barely warm. A few rags lay near the grate, and she supposed Beth was preparing to tend to him when she and John interrupted her. Well, she could at least do that, and be of some help.

As she pressed the warm, damp cloth against his neck and shoulder, her hand brushed lightly against his skin. And like a sudden, unexpected bolt of lightning, they were connected. Mihdael started slightly, and he saw her soul. Unaware of the ‘connection’, Elena took his slight start of surprise as a reaction from her touch. She continued, more gently than before. Mihdael, eyes still closed, gazed raptly into the brilliance of her soul…

~‘Raphael… do you not see that? She is… beautiful.’~

~‘Yes, she has a basic goodness and purity within her; God’s Light shines brightly in her spirit.’~

~‘And yet, she has no one to share her life.’~

~‘Mihdael… you should be shivering…’~

~‘I am.’~

~‘With cold, warrior, not—’~

All too soon the contact was broken, as John returned and she stood up as he brought the kindling and firewood to her.

“M’lady,” John ventured, seeing the blood and dirt stained cloth in her hand and the dirt at the hem of her dress.“You should not be doing this. You are the Lady of the house. Beth should tend to him.”

“Oh, honestly, John, you sound like my father. If this poor man is able to do more than smile at me, then I will be pleasantly surprised.” She returned to her ministrations. “Put the firewood down, and find that useless stable boy. I want him to tend this fire tonight, and not let it die out.”

III

Over the next few days, Mihdael decided to ‘heal’, and learn more of this lady and her life. The household expressed wonder at his remarkable recovery from a moribund wound, and the male Ravenels viewed Elena’s extensive attentions to the stranger with a jaundiced eye. While grateful, neither Ravenel wanted Elena spending too much time and attention on him.

The following Saturday, after morning Mass, Elena waited until her father and brother engaged the priest in conversation and took the opportunity to return to the altar. Alone, she knelt, crossed herself, and gave a short prayer for the young man still in their care. At end of the end of the prayer, she hesitated, then continued, “I am only your servant, Father; and I seek only to do Your Will. Yet... I feel so very alone, and unwanted; the other women have husbands and beaus, but there are none left for me.

“I understand that if You wish me to remain a maiden, I will do so. However, I ask of You, Father, if it be Your Will, to send me a mate. He does not have to be rich, or powerful, or even handsome... just kind. Kind will do. Is that too much to ask, Father?”

IV

“I am glad you are doing so well,” Elena smiled, settling onto the wooden chair. “Nearly a fortnight, and your wound is almost healed. My brother and father don’t know what to make of it.”

“Your care has been very... beneficial, my lady.” Mihdael returned the smile, ignoring Raphael’s cautions. He spoke more plainly with her, not wanting to have her think ill of him. His homely features, he felt, would not be attractive to her; he didn’t want mental dullness to repulse her completely.

“You have learned our language quite well, in such a short space of time. Christopher told me you had only been with his army for a few months.” She spread out an old shirt belonging to her brother, and began sewing fabric panels into the front and back to make it larger.

“You have been very kind and... gracious to me, my lady. But, I do not know your name.” Mihdael ignored Raphael’s frown, and waved him away as if brushing off an annoying gnat. The Healer moved back, but not too far.

“Elena, Elena Ravenel...” She glanced down at her sewing, her cheeks reddening with shame as she admitted to being unmarried.

“Lady Elena, thank you for your care. And... your visits.”

“I enjoyed both.” Her dark eyes sparkled, her tone lightening. “My brother tells me your name is Angus McDale. Are you Scot, or Hibernian?”

“Neither; I am... not from these lands. I had only just arrived at Sorcen shortly before it fell to the marauders from the North Sea. I have... neither home nor family. I am a soldier, and I am... honored to serve in your brother’s army.”

“You will be well enough to leave soon.” Her steady gaze belied the intent of her words.

Mihdael looked up at her, realizing she asked the question the only way she could. Tentative, then with more confidence, he placed his hand over hers, stopping the needle’s work for a few momnets. “I... do not look forward to... leaving.”

Her cheeks reddened again, but not with shame. She smiled, and continued her sewing.

V

Elena gathered up the melted down candle nubs from the main dining table, placing them in a basket to be given to the poor. She sighed inwardly as her father’s large frame darkened the entryway, and she resigned herself to the argument that would follow his entry.

“Elena,” Squire Edward Ravenel never wasted words, but got right to the gist of the matter. “Christopher tells me you are... encouraging this stranger to remain with us, when it is quite apparent he is able to travel.”

“He is not a stranger, Father. He saved Christopher’s life! Does that mean nothing?” She remained standing, not allowing his taller stature to dominate her.

“Of course it means something.” Ravenel raised his hands in a placating gesture, knowing all too well his eldest daughter’s steadfast temperament. “But, he... that is, surely someone is... responsible for him, somewhere.”

“As long as it is not here, is that it, Father?”

“Why should you care about the welfare of this foreigner? I have never heard his accent before, and I have no idea where he comes from, what kind of family he has... or had. I know nothing about him.”

Ravenel pulled two chairs close to the table. “Here, daughter, sit down and let us discuss this matter civilly.”

Placing the basket on the planked trestle table, Elena accepted the offered chair. “I would... like for him to stay with us, Father; if he wishes to do so. In the past few days, he has helped greatly with the stables and horses; he even managed to tame that wild beast you call a carriage horse. He has more than earned his keep. “

“Perhaps. But it doesn’t look right, Elena; already, Squire Mortisse has noticed your attentions to him and complained.”

“Oh, surely neither you nor him consider this... this ill-bred, ignorant dullard a threat to the powerful, wealthy Richard Mortisse?!” She looked at him boldly, with challenge.

Ravenel felt his control of the situation slipping, and the possiblility that Elean had any kind of feeling for the foreign solder alarmed him. ‘Is he, Elena?” He asked in a quiet, level tone, “Is he a threat?”

“Would you disapprove if he was?”

Ravenel surged to his feet, dread overtaking any anger he might have felt at his daughter’s defiance of his agreement with Mortisse.. “Elena! The man is a dullard” He paused, and looked at her with concern, attempting to convey as much reason as he could. “Think of the children!”

“He is not a dullard! He understands what is told him, he carries out orders perfectly, and he is kind and considerate and...” She stopped, aware her emotions were showing. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “Yes, he is a foreigner. But so were we, Father; and perhaps his difficulty with our language makes him appear to be slow and dull, when in fact he is not.”

“You cannot seriously be considering him as a... a husband! Your betrothal to Sq. Mortisse is next week!”

“Yes, I know. But you know Mortisse’s real reason for wanting to marry me, Father. He wants my dowry: the part of our land that borders his, and will extend his holdings all the way to the sea. All he sees in me is farmland, forests, and mines. Angus sees me for me; just me, and nothing else.”

Ravenel paced as he tried to convince his daughter of her foolhardiness. “Richard has stability, good family, and wealth. You would want for nothing. He has asked for your hand and I have agreed.” Halting a few steps away from her, Ravenel stood firm. “This interloper will leave.”

“Will you at least speak with Angus? You have never sent anyone away without hearing them out. Talk to him, Father, as an equal.” Elena remained calm, looking up at her father with respect and rationale. “Try to see him as I see him. Try to see past his background and judge him for what he is."

Ravenel nodded, accepting the offered compromise, certain he could discourage the young man from pursuing his daughter. “Very well. For Christopher’s sake, for your sake, I will talk with him. But I promise nothing, and I doubt it will alter my decision.”

VI

On the same day that Elena and her father discussed her relationship with him, Mihdael sought out a secluded area of the garden. Few flowers remained in bloom, and mature yews provided the only screen from prying eyes. The last meal had ended hours ago, and he doubted anyone would venture out this late in the evening, or brave the cold, misty air.

He knelt, and cast his gaze upward. “Father, I need Your guidance.”

Thy voice is heard, Mihdael; thou mayest speak.

“Father, I have learned much of the human heart and soul. Perhaps... too much...”

Continue.

"I have a deep attraction for Lady Elena Ravenel; I do not quite understand these feelings, nor how to respond to them. She fascinates me. The more I learn of her, the more I want to know. When she is not with me, I find myself longing for her company. I do not understand this, Father, as it is a feeling very similar to what I felt for Eve – but stronger, much, much stronger.”

The human traits thou hast taken on in order to better understand the human condition hast made thou susceptible to those traits. Hast not Raphael explained this to thee?

Another voice joined the mental conversation. “He dismissed my cautions at the beginning, Father; I now simply watch and observe.”

Doest thou wish to follow through on these feelings, Mihdael?

The Warrior thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I would. I would like Your permission to ask Lady Elena to marry me.”

Angels are not permitted to marry Humans.

“While I am on Earth, in this form, I am not completely Angel. I am both Angel and Human. If necessary, I am willing to become completely Human during our marriage.”

Raphael interrupted. "That could be dangerous. If you are too Human, Mihdael, there will be the danger of losing the Angel to the Human. The Human influence could be stronger, and you could...Fall.”

“I am grateful for ypur concern, Raphael, but I am Angel, and always will be. I will be conscious of the dangers, Father, and will guard against them. I ask that You grant my request.”

This cannot be one-sided, Mihdael; Elena must also love thee as well. She must know what thou truly art, before giving thou her answer. She will have the right to decide without influence or urging from thee.

Thou must also honor her father’s wishes; do not come between her and her father.

Thou may plead thy case to him, but thou art forbidden to reveal thy true nature to him. Her father will accept thee on his own, or not at all.

Is this agreeable to thee, Mihdael?

“Yes, Father; I thank You.”

CHAPTER 21 TO BE CONTINUED.....