The Archangels Apprentice (Chapter 1 Revised 2016)

     Looking into his face brought back so many memories. Not of this person in particular but of the last time I was assigned a mission on earth. The last time I came down from Paradise was when I came with Michael to make Metatron and Sandalphon. That was the last time we were ordered to create new Archangels. The last time in over two thousand years the sake of humanity rested on the shoulders of newly created Seraph's to lead them towards salvation. The twins were made to guide all humanity and rule supreme over their souls until they were worthy of being purified and sent to Heaven. But as the world evolved, they grew farther apart from us until even our specially made couldn't lead them to Paradise.

     Now that I had fallen from the heavens to give to this dying prodigy the Angels Kiss, my curiosity seemed to carry me away. What will his Given name be? What is his mission? What does his pain feel like? The Almighty said nothing about this boys fate as an Archangel or what fate will be met by humanity after he completed his duty. He only sent word of how I myself was to go alone and be the teacher to the new apprentice. He warned  that unlike last time I would be made mortal  so as to better conceal the boys identity. The world had changed, and instead of seeing the Chosen as heavenly saviors, humans instead found them frightening or locked them in houses for the mentally damaged. If we wanted him to succeed I needed to teach him as quietly as possible. Beyond the evils of humanity were even darker creations that would see him for what he was: Demons, nephilim, cohorts and blood slaves. If he were to be murdered before he could ascend, then the world was doomed to a fate worse than that of Sodom and Gomorrah.

     I looked into his young eyes and saw how much he was losing, how he was fated to give up his humanity for something foreign and unfathomable to the mortal mind. I would have cried for him, I'd like to think, if I knew how. But I was never human and could not grasp the emotion required to shed tears. All I could do was wonder what he could have been,  and know that I had to give the kiss before his life left him.The knowledge that my own divinity lingered as feebly as his humanity caused my hesitation. The others that had been made from human form told me that it was the most fantastic thing in the world just to feel your heart beat, and to feel, smell, taste, and love. They spoke of love a lot. They said it was different than the love that all heavenly beings felt for humans. They preached it was like feeling as if your insides are frozen, yet your skin is on fire, creating a sensation of synchronized opposition. But no matter how great they guaranteed being human was, I could not prevent myself from feeling doubt. I looked at ashen face of my charge, hoping that it would hold answers, or reassurance. However, it only possessed the last signs of life that were fleeting as I pondered my own destiny. How selfish I was being. I steeled myself with the faith I was born with and knelt beside his bleeding form. I laid my palm to his wounded chest and felt his weak heart. I could see all his memories and witness of the human feelings he experienced in his short life. I could hear his thoughts pass through his very blood. Thoughts of family and regrets. I bent over his face and looked into his eyes that have been blinded by death and saw in them my own reflection. Whether he could register it before I closed his eyes with my fingers I do not know, but that thought was banished as I drew closer to him. I laid the kiss on his lips and with one breath I vanished all guilt from his heart and gave him a piece of my holy soul. The transfer sent him into dreamless sleep while the transition began. I watched as he lay unmoving while his wounds healed and my mark appeared over his heart. We all had one( a mark), every time we healed or transferred, the mark would appear over the purified heart, so that way we would know who was the guardian of the enlightened soul. And as my signature sunburst appeared on this boy, I felt my downy wings recede and hide themselves within my back, and felt the weightlessness turn into a heavy pulling that made me feel as if I were being pulled into the depths of Hell. My skin grew soft and dull and my hair fell to my shoulders. I could feel my heartbeat and it was racing. Was that normal? How could mortals tolerate this relentless noise reverberating in my ears. Then there was something sharp, hot, and urgent. At first I thought I was being seized by the claws of Lucifer, the sharp points ripping my new skin  leaving scorched trails of flesh. I began to slap at them only to realize this sensation was not a physical contact, but an inward alarm manifesting itself as goosebumps. The only signs of an altercation were my self inflicted angry marks of senseless fear. The angry red tattoo's faded once again into flesh and my mind became quiet. I am in a new body, and without composure I will surely destroy it. The pinpricks of heat spread to my toes and bones, yet there seemed to be nothing wrong with my vessel or my surroundings. The heat grew to a boil in my cheeks and my heart seemed to grow restless as I remained stupefied at what warranted such a reaction.  I think this is what they call fear. I was scared and helpless and the freezing asphalt made my hands feel numb and I was know conscious of the feel of winter and the piercing color of everything. My eyes stung with vibrations that seemed to make everything look florescent. The sounds of wind and silence made my ears ring with pain and I had no desire to hear what the world was like in the light of day, nor did I wish to see it. I realize now the amount of emotion needed to cry. I tried to hold back the humiliating tears but they were unstoppable and stung my cold face with their boiling warmth.

 As I sat in this dark corner of the seemingly endless mortal abyss, the transition from ethereal to mortal seemed to create such a commotion in my head I thought it would surely burst. My chest grew warm and tight, and my throat bubbled with tension. The lights and forms around me began to recede into a darkness that formed at the edge of my vision. " Am I dying? Is mortality so fleeting?" My mind could barely form the thought before slamming with blood and electric pulses. I seem to remember Michael telling me of humanity and what I would have to do to survive it. Suddenly, with it's last bloated thought, my mind seemed to take over my actions, and I exhaled. The light came back to my vision as a cool wave crashed into my stomach with enough force to make me think it was going to expel itself from my body. My chest became light and a force once again rose through my throat with a horrible sound. I felt that I had somehow swallowed the gas and ashes of hellfire and that I was surely expelling it into the air. But, nothing but white whispy vapor flew from my human maw. Breath. With a clear mind I realized how stupid I had been. Michael had told me about the mortal need to breath and the effects it had if I were to be deprived of it. It was choppy and sporadic at first, but I created a rhythm so as to keep a constant influx of air. How strange it must be to have to control so much at any given time. I found difficult to even wiggle my toes and breathe at the same time, yet humans walked, talked, ate and drank all with a fluidity and without such as hitch in their speech between sentences. 

Standing up was laborious, the mortal flesh was heavy and seemed to bend and twist without reason or logic. I found walking time consuming: Step, wobble, breathe, repeat. The crushing reality of my weakness and inability to control my own vessel only made the future of this boy seem all the more sad, doomed. I would not be able to move him to the abode that had been prepared for us by our Bound angels. Perhaps I could call one to assist me? They were always on earth, bound to it by the Almighty to serve those who they deemed most needy. I would hate to drag them from their earthly duties, nor did my dignity need to take even more of a blow than it had. What would the others think of me if I called for assistance this early in my mission? 

I leaned on the alley wall, my bare back prickling where the cold sharp brick met with my warm, soft skin. The boy was still, to the humans, even with all of their technology, he would appear dead. Only I could see the faint shimmer of his soul meshing with mine. He would wake in a couple days, with thoughts that were not his own and with abilities he would never have begun to believe the could possess. His clothes were clean despite the sticky ground, and save the blood front where the knife had punctured him. The light from the lone street lamp behind us at the entrance to the alley gave a forlorn glow that flickered in intervals. It seemed to mourn the dead boy, the flickering bulbs forming a quick prayer for him, every ebb and burst of light representing words. I silently prayed that I would be forgiven for leaving him, knowing that I could not drag him three miles toward the wood line where our home base was waiting. With slapping feet and probing hands I followed the wall to the sidewalk, every muscle shuddering to understand what I wanted it to do. There was a pay phone in front of on of the buildings that formed the alley. It seemed to be caked with bits and peices of every being God had every placed on this earth, creating a gummy flesh that clung to my hands when I touched the receiver. I had studied humanity since the first rise of the sun, such things as telephones were not new to me. Unlike the human form, I knew exactly how to operate this device. Swallowing a forceful subconscious urge to vomit from the sensation of touching the filthy phone, I dialed 911. Giving the address that the building had plastered on its grimy window I let the receiver hang free. I was surprised this machine was capable of standing, yet alone placing a call. The weight of the receiver, loose from its carriage, made the box creak and lean forward at an acute angle. I could hear the faint pleas of the woman on the other end, begging me to explain what's happened. She eventually faded, replaced by the sound of leaves skittering across the cement, and car horns bleating in the distance like angry, mechanical sheep. The walking was easier when my body became numb with the evening air. No more silent screams or pulsing extremities. I had cleared the streets and found the path marked with the Bound's sigil when the sirens began to close in. The sigil was a simple upward arrow that flowed into a capital S. They had carved it into a tree and to passerby it would seem like graffiti, but to the divine it is a symbol of safety. The path was well worn, and the growth had been freshly pulled back to allow unhindered access. It was not cut, the earth was a gift from God and we divines always left it undisturbed of possible. The commotion of emergency services grew no louder and I knew they had found him. I would go to the area hospital tomorrow, to ensure that he had arrived. After they attempted to resuscitate him, in vain, he would be moved to the morgue. I would have to force him to wake up, which will be difficult as the process would have had little time to complete. If I waited to long though, he would wake up without knowledge of what has happened, and he would wonder the hospital until someone called the local news claiming a miracle has happened. I could not have his face plastered around the world, waiting for a Hellion to deduce what had happened and come looking for him. 

The path was just long enough to be concealed behind a think wall of evergreens, and the house was already lit. It was small, a typical log cabin with one floor and a wrap around porch. The windows were few, two on each side. The body I have claimed seemed to steady itself at the sight of the humble lodging. A sudden dizziness caused me to move with speed I did not know I could control yet, and pinpricks of light danced around my vision. It was almost a sick feeling, like the relief humans felt after purging unwanted material from the body. Adrenaline. I had heard that word somewhere, or had I? Was this what the brain was capable of? Connecting the dots when you weren't even aware dots where present? In any case, I was comforted to know that my body knew what it was doing. The door opened slowly and with a weight that I felt was appropriate lest anyone desire to break in. The room blurred as I stumbled through it, crashing through obstacles of dining chairs and end tables to one of the two doors towards the back of the house. The room was small but adequately furnished with a twin bed, a small dresser with a mirror and a small table. The bed was the only thing I really cared about at the moment, not necessarily the checkered blanket or the one dangerously fluffy pillow. Just the bed itself, it could have been bare and on the floor and I would not have complained. This was the most pleasant experience of my brief moments on Earth. I could feel a different numbness set in as I buried my face into the mattress. A tingling numb that started at my toes and crept with a warm electricity up this body. Exhaustion, my brain provided. I did not argue as my eyelids closed. It made no difference in color or light, my eyes had ceased to see anything but vague forms since my entrance into the room. The numbness took over and I could feel the internal chatter of my mind quiet. This was sleep, and I silently hoped more things on earth would feel this good. 

sagitta   sagitta wrote
on 8/12/2011 2:13:51 AM
Read it. Nice work...

Novel / Novella
writing sunsdarkness
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Rating: 7.0/10

My first go at a novel/novella. I hope you enjoy and I welcome any critisism that would help me better my writing.