Fic: A History of Heaven (Gabriel/Various Angels, PG-13 for most) 12/59
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: In this story, before Lucifer fell, his name was Sammael. He was not Lucifer in Heaven.
There is one other canon character operating under an OC name, but I wish for his identity to remain unknown.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 4,314
Chapter Summary: God summons His Archangels and commands them to bend their knees to the humans, His greatest creations, but Sammael is not happy with this order.
CHAPTER 12:
Bow to Humans
Gabriel raced through Heaven, flying as fast as he could push his wings. Seraphim and Cherubim alike dove out of his way. All denizens of the celestial realm knew that when the gold-feathered Messenger flew at this speed, God Himself had called. Not even Raphael, clipped by Gabriel’s wings as he sped past, would find fault in Gabriel not stopping to apologize.
The summons was an insistent tug in Gabriel’s mind, calling him before his Father. He followed where it led, winging up the Axis Mundi before exploding into the Throne Room. Immediately, Gabriel dropped into a deep bow, five hundred and eighty of his wings outstretched, the last two drawn forward, clasped over his head, a barrier between himself and the brilliance of his Father.
“I am here, Father. How may I serve you?”
As bright and terrifying as his Father was, Gabriel privately admitted that he loved his role in Heaven. Only the Archangels could stand in God’s light for long, and even they could suffer, overwhelmed by his unfiltered grace, if precautions weren’t taken. Sammael frequently flitted after Father to sit with Him, but only Gabriel, as his Father’s Messenger, was guaranteed solo audiences with his Father. He tilted his wings, angling them toward his Father to better absorb the radiating love that always filled these meetings.
You have been to Earth. Taken a vessel. Taught your brothers. His Father’s voice echoed in his head, in his heart, a resounding knowledge of the words rather than any sound itself.
Several thousand years had passed since Gabriel had first discovered the secret to taking a vessel, and he had done all he could to spread the knowledge among the Host. The angels had returned to Earth in droves, diving into vessels and experiencing life as humans did. Gabriel’s choir was especially active, better able to fulfill their duties without time limits.
Their Father hadn’t said anything about these new developments in all that time, but now a flicker of fear ignited within Gabriel’s heart. Had things grown out of control again, like with the dinosaurs? Was Father going to restart the Earth, or inflict his wrath upon Gabriel again?
“We are banished from Earth unless we have a human vessel,” Gabriel began slowly. “This is unbreakable.” An unvesseled angel on Earth was thrown back to Heaven after twenty-four hours, unable to immediately return. They couldn’t break this particular law, even if disobedience occurred to them. “But with a vessel, we are all capable of fulfilling our duties to the planet and its creatures without any fear…” He didn’t have the words to explain himself, not in the all-knowing presence of his Father. Gabriel ducked his head further, praying his Father would be merciful. He did not want to experience His wrath again.
Gabriel did not expect his Father’s laughter, a deep rumble that resonated deep within his grace, filling him with joy and light.
My little Messenger, do not be afraid. I am pleased you have been forging relations with your human brothers and encouraging the same in all your angelic ones.
Gabriel relaxed, grace swelling from the praise. He let his happiness bubble forth, suffusing his grace with a golden light while he locked away his pride at the knowledge that he had been the catalyst for these changes.
Bring forth your brothers, Gabriel.
His name, in his Father’s voice, was a warm caress over his grace. His wings shivered from the sheer pleasure of being so acknowledged.
It is time for a new era.
Gabriel ducked his bow lower, understanding the command in his Father’s words and knowing exactly which brothers God meant. The Archangels. Gabriel spread his wings to fly.
The Axis Mundi rippled beneath Gabriel’s wings, a steady stream of light to guide the lower angels. Gabriel needed no such map. All of Heaven was catalogued within his mind. He had explored every last corner, even the sections dedicated to the humans, even Raphael’s.
Gabriel called to his brothers as he flew, a pulse of his grace spread through the realm. One by one, they flared their graces back at him, announcing their positions in Heaven. Michael and Sammael were together again, in the fields north of Sammael’s tower. Gabriel banked, a graceful curve, and shot off for their location.
As was more and more common these days, Gabriel’s older brothers were locked in a mock battle, wings and swords flashing. Both Michael and Sammael had been growing restless as Earth developed, concerned for a dark future. All angels were warriors, down to the lowest Cherubim. Sammael pointed out that Father would not have created them as such if they weren’t going to be needed in battle someday. The longer peace lasted, the more Michael and Sammael feared war was coming: if not from Earth itself, then from the ancient evils whispered to be locked away in Purgatory, in Limbo. They frequently took every opportunity to spar together, or to personally train their younger brothers. As the centuries passed, their sparring tore through new levels of ferocity, and the Archangels held nothing back.
Gabriel touched down gently near the action. His brothers had drawn a crowd, another common sight these days, as the younger angels cheered for their favorite combatant. When they saw Gabriel, they parted before him, dipping into reverential bows. Gabriel made his way to the front of the audience, though he stayed well back from his battling brothers.
“Hold your swords!”
Michael and Sammael sprang apart, tense and waiting, before they simultaneously dropped their guards, a wash of frustration spreading through their graces before they turned to Gabriel together.
“You have a message for us?” Sammael asked, dropping the tip of his sword to the field beneath his wings.
“A summons,” Gabriel answered. “All four.”
“Now?” Michael stood at attention, his sword already sheathed. He never liked to keep their Father waiting.
Gabriel nodded. “You go. I still need to find Raphael. We’ll join you there.”
Both older angels nodded, snapping out their wings and leaping into the air. Gabriel wished he could watch them fly. Their partnership was perfect. Everything Michael and Sammael did together, absolutely everything, even a short flight along the Axis Mundi, was a thing of beauty. Gabriel didn’t have time to admire his brothers now, though. He needed to find his own partner, and weather the discord that would bring.
Raphael was at the eastern edge of Heaven, staring out into the Borderlands alongside several of his Seraphim. He stood straight and tall, wings folded neatly at his back. Gabriel landed behind him, fighting the urge to tweak a wing or steal his sword. He was here with a message. He would not act unprofessional (and give his brother more reason to harangue him).
“Father had a message?” Raphael’s voice was cool, his attention unbroken. He didn’t even spare his brother a glance. Gabriel rustled his wings in irritation at the small slight.
“Yes, he-”
“He is summoning us. You have already alerted Michael and Sammael.”
Gabriel snapped his wings and folded his arms. “They were closer.”
“I was simply voicing my assumptions, Gabriel, not criticizing your… work.”
Raphael did not caress with Gabriel’s name. He struck with it, a sharp jolt across the back of Gabriel’s grace that grated the smaller angel. Raphael might claim not to be criticizing, but he could at let Gabriel deliver the message himself, even if it was an obvious one.
“Your assumptions are correct.” Gabriel forced calmness into his grace, though his voice rumbled with his disapproval. “Father would have the four of us meet with Him.”
“Try to keep up,” Raphael answered with a humorless smirk. He had adopted a mouth like all the other angels, but he didn’t seem bothered to learn how to smile with it. The Archangel of the Air unfurled his sleek, pointed wings, raising them for flight. “It would be embarrassing if the Messenger was the slowest to arrive.” He took to the air, with Gabriel just a wingbeat behind.
Raphael still easily beat him back to the Throne Room. His wings were designed for speed, while Gabriel’s were far more maneuverable. In a forest, Gabriel could outfly Raphael every time, but in the open air of the Axis Mundi, Raphael’s advantage was obvious.
His brother had not waited for Gabriel to arrive. When Gabriel landed, he was alone outside the Throne, Room, save for the Cherub Joshua, who was obstinately sweeping the pristine steps. Joshua smiled warmly at Gabriel, and Gabriel returned the expression, smoothing his grace over his little brother’s. The simple exchange with a much sweeter angel was enough to soothe away most of Gabriel’s Raphael-induced irritation. Pulling calm back through his grace again, Gabriel reentered the Throne Room.
Michael, Sammael, and Raphael were already bowing before God in the same position Gabriel had been earlier: all but one pair of wings spread, the last clasped over their heads. Gabriel slipped past the submissive display of feathers to take his place at Sammael’s right side, quickly dipping into his own bow.
This time, his Father’s laughter was quiet, indicating a private moment He was sharing with Gabriel alone, accompanied by a stroke of pleasure over Gabriel’s progress in not intentionally needling his twin while performing his duties. Gabriel basked in his Father’s silent praise, dismissing his last vestiges of annoyance.
Be seated.
The Archangels rose in order of their age, sweeping around to stand before their thrones, their backs to their Father, before they all sat in perfect unison. They never practiced this action, but it was one they all seemed to have Awakened knowing how to do. Gabriel’s wing accidentally brushed one of Sammael’s as they moved, and Sammael flashed him a little smile. Gabriel was warmed from the inside out. Surrounded by his Father and his brothers, nothing could go wrong.
The meeting with their Father began in a fairly standard way. He had asked for a report on all the realms; though He knew everything that was happening already, He enjoyed hearing His sons color the facts with their own opinions. Raphael ran through an account of the Borderlands (which Gabriel mentally summed up as “absolutely no change”), Michael provided a detailed report on the affairs of Heaven (the angels continued to be their usual busy selves), and Gabriel summarized the developments on Earth, including a full accounting of the angels who took vessels the most frequently and several proposed plans for reshaping some of the landscape. Sammael spoke up as he pleased, interjecting his own thoughts into his brothers’ reports. Since he did not claim dominion over any one realm, he could give his feedback on all of them. Lately, he spent most of his time on Earth with Gabriel or Michael, sometimes envesseled, sometimes just watching.
Sammael spoke as Gabriel finished up his report on the vessels. “While taking vessels is all well and good, I’m a bit concerned with just how much we are influencing the development of humanity. Many of the humans taken as vessels have been singled out by their peers. Gabriel’s first vessel, Vindonnus, lived on as a god after his mortal life ended!”
Gabriel ducked his head, an embarrassed smile on his face. “I think I overdid my gifts to him. His tribe marveled at the food and trinkets I returned him with, and I healed some of his family. They didn’t understand what else could be causing it.” Vindonnus had adored Gabriel’s presence in his life, though Gabriel had always suspected Vindonnus loved it more for how the other humans reacted to him after a new trip as opposed to the long stretches of time when his soul slept beneath Gabriel’s grace. Many of the women of his tribe had been especially fond of the man, and his descendents already numbered in the hundreds, each of whom bore similar soul-patterns and could be taken as vessels by Gabriel. The tulpa with a remarkable similarity to Vindonnus had been a complete surprise after the man’s death, but Gabriel visited him frequently and carried stories back to Vindonnus’ soul in Heaven.
“And my first vessel, Qayin…” Sammael looked to his right, where Michael sat in his own throne. Michael looked solemnly back at Sammael. This was an old story, but not one they had ever spoken of before God.
“Qayin and Hevel, our vessels, tried to summon us back shortly after we first met them,” Michael explained. “We had not realized what they were doing, and showed ourselves again after Hevel had made an offering. Qayin… was unhappy.”
“Unhappy?” Sammael scoffed, shaking his head. “You mean Qayin took his brother out to the field and slaughtered him like one of Hevel’s lambs!”
“It was unfortunate,” Michael agreed, his hands clasped loosely in his lap. “I could not get to them in time to save Hevel. He has been installed in his own Heaven here, in gratitude for his service.”
“And Qayin’s soul still roams the Earth, unable to find peace.” Sammael folded his arms. “And this was just what happened with our first vessels! Continue the lines, and you’ll see the stories are very much the same! Idolatry, confusion, murder… it’s all there!”
Gabriel lowered his eyes to his own hands, feeling vaguely guilty. His vessels had thrived, while Michael’s first had been stolen from him and Sammael’s was doomed to never enter Heaven. Many other human vessels were experiencing similar trials. A handful were revered like Vindonnus had been and a few had been killed, but most were shunned as evil if their angels hadn’t been careful to take them only when their absence or personality changes wouldn’t be noticed.
You have all taken vessels and walked among the humans. Tell me, is this how you see all humans?
The four Archangels were silent in their thrones, each hesitant to be the first to speak. Sammael, with the strongest opinions, finally voiced his thoughts.
“The humans are… admittedly fascinating creatures.” He was softening his concerns from earlier, Gabriel noticed, as he directly answered Father. “They are clearly Yours. They go about their lives hungry for a taste of divinity. They have invented gods and spirits, not just revered vessels, but actual sentient beings capable of miraculous deeds, as explanations for Your creations. They worship places and people and things, and without Your peace, they strike out at each other in anger and rage. Many humans have been brutally butchered by their fellow humans. Others die of disease or hunger. They are fragile creatures, full of lies and hatred.”
“There is good in humanity!” Gabriel protested, his wings stirring the air as Sammael gave him a dark look. Gabriel couldn’t really blame Sammael for being disillusioned by his first vessel-no one else’s vessel had killed his brother, but Gabriel didn’t want all of humanity to be painted by Sammael’s temporary disapproval.
“Such as?” Sammael folded his arms to look over at Gabriel.
“Such as… such as taste.” Gabriel looked pointedly at Sammael, willing him to remember their first day together in vessels. They had run through that massive forest and reveled in weight and touch and taste, all things angels didn’t ordinarily experience in Heaven. At the time, Sammael had certainly taken to tasting, and Gabriel couldn’t fully hide the wash of pleasure from his memories of that day, or the many others they’d indulged in since. That shared, human experience had drawn his brothers even closer together. Sammael couldn’t ignore all of that just because his first vessel lost his mind.
“Humans can taste, and they make food, delicious foods, sweet and rich and absolutely amazing to eat.”
“And so their ability to taste and design things to be tasted excuses their ability to brutalize each other and worship false gods?”
“You can’t blame them for the false gods,” Gabriel argued. “We’ve been forbidden from talking about Father. They have no way of knowing Him. They do the best they can with their limitations.” He had met some of the false gods Sammael spoke of, concentrated human beliefs given form. Most were vaguely humanoid, and they were all interesting to converse with (especially the ones that attempted to control the sun in the sky, or the ones said to have created the world). All were more powerful than humans, but not one of them could compare to Gabriel’s strength. There was no threat mingling with the pagan gods.
“You don’t explain their violence?”
“I rather like the weight.” Michael’s calm voice slid seamlessly into his brothers’ argument, a verbal nudge to separate them and divert their attention. “It is… pleasurable to feel movement, resistance, solidity. Flying with a body is most peculiar. I feel much more connected with the ground when I am in my vessel.”
“Humans are curious,” Raphael offered. Gabriel leaned forward to look at his twin on the far side of the Throne Room, realizing he had never bothered to ask Raphael himself what he thought of humanity. Three thousand years, and they had never once spoken of their experiences on Earth. “They speak a thousand languages and have developed their own writings. They document, study, learn. They aren’t like most dumb animals, content to simply exist. They want to know, to improve.”
Raphael approved of knowledge, Gabriel knew, and curiosity if it was not used against him. He was surprised to hear that his brother actually approved of humanity. Raphael often acted like the physical realms were beneath him, and that the only worthy task was to guard Heaven and its true treasures.
The humans are your brothers, My beloved children, made in My own image.
Beside Gabriel, Sammael shifted in his throne, his wings drawing in tight in a blatant show of disapproval. Gabriel would never have dared to be so impudent before God, but their Father did not chastise this show of disrespect. He had always been indulgent of Sammael’s expressive personality, irreverence and all.
They are my greatest creations, surpassing all others-
“Surely not all others!” Sammael twisted in his throne, looking directly back at their Father. “Not surpassing us!”
Gabriel’s wings stiffened in alarm, and he could feel the mirrored distress in Raphael’s grace. Michael reacted swiftly, lashing out to grab Sammael’s arm and battering him back into his proper position with his wings. Sammael had interrupted their Father. There was a huge difference between shows of disapproval and that! Gabriel pulled his grace in tight, trying to make himself as small a target as possible, in case Sammael had triggered a release of God’s wrath. Raphael was shrinking on himself as well. Only Michael remained flared, his great wings between Sammael and God.
The atmosphere in the Throne Room was tense, cold. Gabriel could not feel his Father’s love at his back and he wanted to wail at the absence. How could Sammael have dared to interrupt their Father, to speak against Him? And how could he be the only angel in the room without panic lancing through his grace? Even Michael was visibly anxious, fine tremors shaking his wings as he held them as a shield.
ALL others.
God finally spoke again, though He remained a cold fire behind their thrones. The voice booming in their heads was hardly an improvement. Gabriel wanted to fling himself to the floor, to prostrate himself before his Father and beg forgiveness for a disgrace he did not commit.
There will be a new order in Heaven. As angels, it will be your duty to guide the humans, teach them, bow to them. You will love them above all others, above each other, above even Me.
“Father, I can’t!”
Sammael leapt off his throne, whirling around to face God, his arms outstretched in supplication. “Human beings are flawed, murderous creatures! I cannot love them above my brothers, above You!”
“Sit down!” Michael hissed, lunging off his throne and grabbing Sammael’s arm again. He tried to yank Sammael back to his seat, but the younger angel was resisting. Gabriel tucked several more wings around his head and curled his major set around his body, curling up in his throne. Raphael was doing the same. Both of their self-preservation instincts were screaming for them to get out, get out, but Gabriel did not dare move from his Father’s presence. The Lord was a pillar of blue fire behind them, cold enough to sear their wings, and His anger was a palpable thing, slamming over the Archangels in waves. Michael managed to drag Sammael to the ground, bending over him and spreading his thousand wings, sheltering his brother from the worst of God’s wrath.
They were going to die.
Gabriel could all too easily see how this was going to end. Their Father’s rage would intensify until the entire chamber was a blazing inferno. Raphael and Gabriel would be cremated instantly, their grace maybe leaving a smudged shadow in their thrones. Michael, the oldest, the strongest, the greatest, would outlive them by a few seconds before even he was destroyed. That would then leave Sammael unprotected before God. The full force of His wrath would shred Sammael’s grace, fill him with anger and blast him into dust. They would all die today, and four of the Seraphim would be promoted to their thrones. Maybe Cariel would take Gabriel’s spot, or cheerful Barachiel. Gabriel hoped Zachariah would be overlooked for the promotion. Zachariah didn’t need any more power.
Far to Gabriel’s right, Raphael couldn’t stifle a whimper. He must have reached the same conclusion. Gabriel hugged his wings tighter around himself and wished that he could reach out for Raphael, so he did not have to die alone. There was nothing to do now but wait for the inevitable.
But it wasn’t fair! The rebellious thought flooded up in Gabriel’s mind, a sentiment Gabriel had often heard from the humans he watched over. Sammael was the only one finding fault with God’s decree. Gabriel liked the humans. They were crude, yes, but they were also just babies, like the Seraphim had once been, the Angels, the Cherubim. He wanted to help them grow, to teach them about Heaven and their Father. Gabriel didn’t have any problems bending his knee to their curious little lives. Why should he be killed because Sammael was upset?
He shouldn’t be. He wouldn’t be. Their Father was many things-terrifying, omnipotent, omniscient-but He wasn’t unjust. His wrath was not meant for Gabriel, not this time. If any of them died today, it would only be Sammael. Maybe Michael, if he continued to protect his partner. Gabriel was just a bystander. God was not so crude with His power. He would not accidentally smite Gabriel while aiming for Sammael, and He would not intentionally smite Gabriel for Sammael’s impertinence. Slowly, Gabriel began to uncurl his wings, a tendril of relief spreading through his grace. This would not be his end. He would live to see Cariel again, his choir, his Earth. If only he could convince Sammael to apologize before it was too late…
God’s presence loomed behind Gabriel, blue fire licking down the arms of his throne. Gabriel yelped and yanked himself back in, feeling the familiar weight of his Father’s attention solely on him. On the floor, Michael lifted his head to stare, and he could make out Sammael’s bright gaze under the shadow of Michael’s wings.
You calmed yourself.
The fire went out. The cold dispersed. A tickle of his Father’s amusement touched Gabriel between his wings. Gabriel nearly wept in relief.
In the face of My wrath, you alone found a center. Your brothers cowered and feared Me. Why did you not?
“I…” Gabriel’s voice was weak, tremulous. His Father stroked over his wings, soothing the pain from His cold rage. “I just… thought it through.”
Puzzlement from his brothers. Gabriel ducked his head beneath their gazes, embarrassed to be singled out.
One of Michael’s wings, stiff and flaking from the direct exposure to God, stretched across the distance between them, brushing against Gabriel’s grace with a flash of peace and gratitude. Michael was thanking him for distracting their Father and calming His rage. Bolstered by this encouragement, Gabriel straightened and tried to explain himself.
“I applied logic to the situation. It’s something… something humans do. Father was furious, but not at me. Father is just and good. Therefore, Father would not punish me, accidentally or on purpose, when I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was safe in His presence, and logically, had nothing to fear.”
Logical thinking. A trick of humanity. See how Gabriel listened to them, learned from them. He bowed to their superior knowledge and used it to better himself.
“He didn’t bow to anyone!” Sammael pushed out from under Michael’s wings, radiating his own cold fury. “He entertained himself with human gossip, nothing more. Don’t try to twist this to Your purposes. In no way are humans superior to angels, to my brothers!”
Gabriel had idolized Sammael ever since he first opened his eyes and beheld him. Sammael had taught Gabriel all he knew about flying and spells and practically everything, but right now, Gabriel was cringing. How can he be so stupid?
Michael.
God’s rumbling voice was directed at His oldest now. Michael rose to his feet behind Sammael and dipped in a very low, contrite bow, nearly pressing his chest to the floor. “Yes, Father?”
You will escort your brother out. Return when you have finished.
“Yes, Father.”
Michael seized Sammael’s arms, dragging him away from the thrones. Sammael protested, but Michael was stronger and fueled by a command from God. He all but threw Sammael out of the doors, slamming them in Sammael’s face.
Gabriel looked over at Raphael, meeting his partner’s gaze. Neither said anything as Michael returned, giving God a stiff bow before taking his seat.
Let us continue.
Next...
Notes: In this story, before Lucifer fell, his name was Sammael. He was not Lucifer in Heaven.
There is one other canon character operating under an OC name, but I wish for his identity to remain unknown.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 4,314
Chapter Summary: God summons His Archangels and commands them to bend their knees to the humans, His greatest creations, but Sammael is not happy with this order.
CHAPTER 12:
Bow to Humans
Gabriel raced through Heaven, flying as fast as he could push his wings. Seraphim and Cherubim alike dove out of his way. All denizens of the celestial realm knew that when the gold-feathered Messenger flew at this speed, God Himself had called. Not even Raphael, clipped by Gabriel’s wings as he sped past, would find fault in Gabriel not stopping to apologize.
The summons was an insistent tug in Gabriel’s mind, calling him before his Father. He followed where it led, winging up the Axis Mundi before exploding into the Throne Room. Immediately, Gabriel dropped into a deep bow, five hundred and eighty of his wings outstretched, the last two drawn forward, clasped over his head, a barrier between himself and the brilliance of his Father.
“I am here, Father. How may I serve you?”
As bright and terrifying as his Father was, Gabriel privately admitted that he loved his role in Heaven. Only the Archangels could stand in God’s light for long, and even they could suffer, overwhelmed by his unfiltered grace, if precautions weren’t taken. Sammael frequently flitted after Father to sit with Him, but only Gabriel, as his Father’s Messenger, was guaranteed solo audiences with his Father. He tilted his wings, angling them toward his Father to better absorb the radiating love that always filled these meetings.
You have been to Earth. Taken a vessel. Taught your brothers. His Father’s voice echoed in his head, in his heart, a resounding knowledge of the words rather than any sound itself.
Several thousand years had passed since Gabriel had first discovered the secret to taking a vessel, and he had done all he could to spread the knowledge among the Host. The angels had returned to Earth in droves, diving into vessels and experiencing life as humans did. Gabriel’s choir was especially active, better able to fulfill their duties without time limits.
Their Father hadn’t said anything about these new developments in all that time, but now a flicker of fear ignited within Gabriel’s heart. Had things grown out of control again, like with the dinosaurs? Was Father going to restart the Earth, or inflict his wrath upon Gabriel again?
“We are banished from Earth unless we have a human vessel,” Gabriel began slowly. “This is unbreakable.” An unvesseled angel on Earth was thrown back to Heaven after twenty-four hours, unable to immediately return. They couldn’t break this particular law, even if disobedience occurred to them. “But with a vessel, we are all capable of fulfilling our duties to the planet and its creatures without any fear…” He didn’t have the words to explain himself, not in the all-knowing presence of his Father. Gabriel ducked his head further, praying his Father would be merciful. He did not want to experience His wrath again.
Gabriel did not expect his Father’s laughter, a deep rumble that resonated deep within his grace, filling him with joy and light.
My little Messenger, do not be afraid. I am pleased you have been forging relations with your human brothers and encouraging the same in all your angelic ones.
Gabriel relaxed, grace swelling from the praise. He let his happiness bubble forth, suffusing his grace with a golden light while he locked away his pride at the knowledge that he had been the catalyst for these changes.
Bring forth your brothers, Gabriel.
His name, in his Father’s voice, was a warm caress over his grace. His wings shivered from the sheer pleasure of being so acknowledged.
It is time for a new era.
Gabriel ducked his bow lower, understanding the command in his Father’s words and knowing exactly which brothers God meant. The Archangels. Gabriel spread his wings to fly.
The Axis Mundi rippled beneath Gabriel’s wings, a steady stream of light to guide the lower angels. Gabriel needed no such map. All of Heaven was catalogued within his mind. He had explored every last corner, even the sections dedicated to the humans, even Raphael’s.
Gabriel called to his brothers as he flew, a pulse of his grace spread through the realm. One by one, they flared their graces back at him, announcing their positions in Heaven. Michael and Sammael were together again, in the fields north of Sammael’s tower. Gabriel banked, a graceful curve, and shot off for their location.
As was more and more common these days, Gabriel’s older brothers were locked in a mock battle, wings and swords flashing. Both Michael and Sammael had been growing restless as Earth developed, concerned for a dark future. All angels were warriors, down to the lowest Cherubim. Sammael pointed out that Father would not have created them as such if they weren’t going to be needed in battle someday. The longer peace lasted, the more Michael and Sammael feared war was coming: if not from Earth itself, then from the ancient evils whispered to be locked away in Purgatory, in Limbo. They frequently took every opportunity to spar together, or to personally train their younger brothers. As the centuries passed, their sparring tore through new levels of ferocity, and the Archangels held nothing back.
Gabriel touched down gently near the action. His brothers had drawn a crowd, another common sight these days, as the younger angels cheered for their favorite combatant. When they saw Gabriel, they parted before him, dipping into reverential bows. Gabriel made his way to the front of the audience, though he stayed well back from his battling brothers.
“Hold your swords!”
Michael and Sammael sprang apart, tense and waiting, before they simultaneously dropped their guards, a wash of frustration spreading through their graces before they turned to Gabriel together.
“You have a message for us?” Sammael asked, dropping the tip of his sword to the field beneath his wings.
“A summons,” Gabriel answered. “All four.”
“Now?” Michael stood at attention, his sword already sheathed. He never liked to keep their Father waiting.
Gabriel nodded. “You go. I still need to find Raphael. We’ll join you there.”
Both older angels nodded, snapping out their wings and leaping into the air. Gabriel wished he could watch them fly. Their partnership was perfect. Everything Michael and Sammael did together, absolutely everything, even a short flight along the Axis Mundi, was a thing of beauty. Gabriel didn’t have time to admire his brothers now, though. He needed to find his own partner, and weather the discord that would bring.
Raphael was at the eastern edge of Heaven, staring out into the Borderlands alongside several of his Seraphim. He stood straight and tall, wings folded neatly at his back. Gabriel landed behind him, fighting the urge to tweak a wing or steal his sword. He was here with a message. He would not act unprofessional (and give his brother more reason to harangue him).
“Father had a message?” Raphael’s voice was cool, his attention unbroken. He didn’t even spare his brother a glance. Gabriel rustled his wings in irritation at the small slight.
“Yes, he-”
“He is summoning us. You have already alerted Michael and Sammael.”
Gabriel snapped his wings and folded his arms. “They were closer.”
“I was simply voicing my assumptions, Gabriel, not criticizing your… work.”
Raphael did not caress with Gabriel’s name. He struck with it, a sharp jolt across the back of Gabriel’s grace that grated the smaller angel. Raphael might claim not to be criticizing, but he could at let Gabriel deliver the message himself, even if it was an obvious one.
“Your assumptions are correct.” Gabriel forced calmness into his grace, though his voice rumbled with his disapproval. “Father would have the four of us meet with Him.”
“Try to keep up,” Raphael answered with a humorless smirk. He had adopted a mouth like all the other angels, but he didn’t seem bothered to learn how to smile with it. The Archangel of the Air unfurled his sleek, pointed wings, raising them for flight. “It would be embarrassing if the Messenger was the slowest to arrive.” He took to the air, with Gabriel just a wingbeat behind.
Raphael still easily beat him back to the Throne Room. His wings were designed for speed, while Gabriel’s were far more maneuverable. In a forest, Gabriel could outfly Raphael every time, but in the open air of the Axis Mundi, Raphael’s advantage was obvious.
His brother had not waited for Gabriel to arrive. When Gabriel landed, he was alone outside the Throne, Room, save for the Cherub Joshua, who was obstinately sweeping the pristine steps. Joshua smiled warmly at Gabriel, and Gabriel returned the expression, smoothing his grace over his little brother’s. The simple exchange with a much sweeter angel was enough to soothe away most of Gabriel’s Raphael-induced irritation. Pulling calm back through his grace again, Gabriel reentered the Throne Room.
Michael, Sammael, and Raphael were already bowing before God in the same position Gabriel had been earlier: all but one pair of wings spread, the last clasped over their heads. Gabriel slipped past the submissive display of feathers to take his place at Sammael’s right side, quickly dipping into his own bow.
This time, his Father’s laughter was quiet, indicating a private moment He was sharing with Gabriel alone, accompanied by a stroke of pleasure over Gabriel’s progress in not intentionally needling his twin while performing his duties. Gabriel basked in his Father’s silent praise, dismissing his last vestiges of annoyance.
Be seated.
The Archangels rose in order of their age, sweeping around to stand before their thrones, their backs to their Father, before they all sat in perfect unison. They never practiced this action, but it was one they all seemed to have Awakened knowing how to do. Gabriel’s wing accidentally brushed one of Sammael’s as they moved, and Sammael flashed him a little smile. Gabriel was warmed from the inside out. Surrounded by his Father and his brothers, nothing could go wrong.
The meeting with their Father began in a fairly standard way. He had asked for a report on all the realms; though He knew everything that was happening already, He enjoyed hearing His sons color the facts with their own opinions. Raphael ran through an account of the Borderlands (which Gabriel mentally summed up as “absolutely no change”), Michael provided a detailed report on the affairs of Heaven (the angels continued to be their usual busy selves), and Gabriel summarized the developments on Earth, including a full accounting of the angels who took vessels the most frequently and several proposed plans for reshaping some of the landscape. Sammael spoke up as he pleased, interjecting his own thoughts into his brothers’ reports. Since he did not claim dominion over any one realm, he could give his feedback on all of them. Lately, he spent most of his time on Earth with Gabriel or Michael, sometimes envesseled, sometimes just watching.
Sammael spoke as Gabriel finished up his report on the vessels. “While taking vessels is all well and good, I’m a bit concerned with just how much we are influencing the development of humanity. Many of the humans taken as vessels have been singled out by their peers. Gabriel’s first vessel, Vindonnus, lived on as a god after his mortal life ended!”
Gabriel ducked his head, an embarrassed smile on his face. “I think I overdid my gifts to him. His tribe marveled at the food and trinkets I returned him with, and I healed some of his family. They didn’t understand what else could be causing it.” Vindonnus had adored Gabriel’s presence in his life, though Gabriel had always suspected Vindonnus loved it more for how the other humans reacted to him after a new trip as opposed to the long stretches of time when his soul slept beneath Gabriel’s grace. Many of the women of his tribe had been especially fond of the man, and his descendents already numbered in the hundreds, each of whom bore similar soul-patterns and could be taken as vessels by Gabriel. The tulpa with a remarkable similarity to Vindonnus had been a complete surprise after the man’s death, but Gabriel visited him frequently and carried stories back to Vindonnus’ soul in Heaven.
“And my first vessel, Qayin…” Sammael looked to his right, where Michael sat in his own throne. Michael looked solemnly back at Sammael. This was an old story, but not one they had ever spoken of before God.
“Qayin and Hevel, our vessels, tried to summon us back shortly after we first met them,” Michael explained. “We had not realized what they were doing, and showed ourselves again after Hevel had made an offering. Qayin… was unhappy.”
“Unhappy?” Sammael scoffed, shaking his head. “You mean Qayin took his brother out to the field and slaughtered him like one of Hevel’s lambs!”
“It was unfortunate,” Michael agreed, his hands clasped loosely in his lap. “I could not get to them in time to save Hevel. He has been installed in his own Heaven here, in gratitude for his service.”
“And Qayin’s soul still roams the Earth, unable to find peace.” Sammael folded his arms. “And this was just what happened with our first vessels! Continue the lines, and you’ll see the stories are very much the same! Idolatry, confusion, murder… it’s all there!”
Gabriel lowered his eyes to his own hands, feeling vaguely guilty. His vessels had thrived, while Michael’s first had been stolen from him and Sammael’s was doomed to never enter Heaven. Many other human vessels were experiencing similar trials. A handful were revered like Vindonnus had been and a few had been killed, but most were shunned as evil if their angels hadn’t been careful to take them only when their absence or personality changes wouldn’t be noticed.
You have all taken vessels and walked among the humans. Tell me, is this how you see all humans?
The four Archangels were silent in their thrones, each hesitant to be the first to speak. Sammael, with the strongest opinions, finally voiced his thoughts.
“The humans are… admittedly fascinating creatures.” He was softening his concerns from earlier, Gabriel noticed, as he directly answered Father. “They are clearly Yours. They go about their lives hungry for a taste of divinity. They have invented gods and spirits, not just revered vessels, but actual sentient beings capable of miraculous deeds, as explanations for Your creations. They worship places and people and things, and without Your peace, they strike out at each other in anger and rage. Many humans have been brutally butchered by their fellow humans. Others die of disease or hunger. They are fragile creatures, full of lies and hatred.”
“There is good in humanity!” Gabriel protested, his wings stirring the air as Sammael gave him a dark look. Gabriel couldn’t really blame Sammael for being disillusioned by his first vessel-no one else’s vessel had killed his brother, but Gabriel didn’t want all of humanity to be painted by Sammael’s temporary disapproval.
“Such as?” Sammael folded his arms to look over at Gabriel.
“Such as… such as taste.” Gabriel looked pointedly at Sammael, willing him to remember their first day together in vessels. They had run through that massive forest and reveled in weight and touch and taste, all things angels didn’t ordinarily experience in Heaven. At the time, Sammael had certainly taken to tasting, and Gabriel couldn’t fully hide the wash of pleasure from his memories of that day, or the many others they’d indulged in since. That shared, human experience had drawn his brothers even closer together. Sammael couldn’t ignore all of that just because his first vessel lost his mind.
“Humans can taste, and they make food, delicious foods, sweet and rich and absolutely amazing to eat.”
“And so their ability to taste and design things to be tasted excuses their ability to brutalize each other and worship false gods?”
“You can’t blame them for the false gods,” Gabriel argued. “We’ve been forbidden from talking about Father. They have no way of knowing Him. They do the best they can with their limitations.” He had met some of the false gods Sammael spoke of, concentrated human beliefs given form. Most were vaguely humanoid, and they were all interesting to converse with (especially the ones that attempted to control the sun in the sky, or the ones said to have created the world). All were more powerful than humans, but not one of them could compare to Gabriel’s strength. There was no threat mingling with the pagan gods.
“You don’t explain their violence?”
“I rather like the weight.” Michael’s calm voice slid seamlessly into his brothers’ argument, a verbal nudge to separate them and divert their attention. “It is… pleasurable to feel movement, resistance, solidity. Flying with a body is most peculiar. I feel much more connected with the ground when I am in my vessel.”
“Humans are curious,” Raphael offered. Gabriel leaned forward to look at his twin on the far side of the Throne Room, realizing he had never bothered to ask Raphael himself what he thought of humanity. Three thousand years, and they had never once spoken of their experiences on Earth. “They speak a thousand languages and have developed their own writings. They document, study, learn. They aren’t like most dumb animals, content to simply exist. They want to know, to improve.”
Raphael approved of knowledge, Gabriel knew, and curiosity if it was not used against him. He was surprised to hear that his brother actually approved of humanity. Raphael often acted like the physical realms were beneath him, and that the only worthy task was to guard Heaven and its true treasures.
The humans are your brothers, My beloved children, made in My own image.
Beside Gabriel, Sammael shifted in his throne, his wings drawing in tight in a blatant show of disapproval. Gabriel would never have dared to be so impudent before God, but their Father did not chastise this show of disrespect. He had always been indulgent of Sammael’s expressive personality, irreverence and all.
They are my greatest creations, surpassing all others-
“Surely not all others!” Sammael twisted in his throne, looking directly back at their Father. “Not surpassing us!”
Gabriel’s wings stiffened in alarm, and he could feel the mirrored distress in Raphael’s grace. Michael reacted swiftly, lashing out to grab Sammael’s arm and battering him back into his proper position with his wings. Sammael had interrupted their Father. There was a huge difference between shows of disapproval and that! Gabriel pulled his grace in tight, trying to make himself as small a target as possible, in case Sammael had triggered a release of God’s wrath. Raphael was shrinking on himself as well. Only Michael remained flared, his great wings between Sammael and God.
The atmosphere in the Throne Room was tense, cold. Gabriel could not feel his Father’s love at his back and he wanted to wail at the absence. How could Sammael have dared to interrupt their Father, to speak against Him? And how could he be the only angel in the room without panic lancing through his grace? Even Michael was visibly anxious, fine tremors shaking his wings as he held them as a shield.
ALL others.
God finally spoke again, though He remained a cold fire behind their thrones. The voice booming in their heads was hardly an improvement. Gabriel wanted to fling himself to the floor, to prostrate himself before his Father and beg forgiveness for a disgrace he did not commit.
There will be a new order in Heaven. As angels, it will be your duty to guide the humans, teach them, bow to them. You will love them above all others, above each other, above even Me.
“Father, I can’t!”
Sammael leapt off his throne, whirling around to face God, his arms outstretched in supplication. “Human beings are flawed, murderous creatures! I cannot love them above my brothers, above You!”
“Sit down!” Michael hissed, lunging off his throne and grabbing Sammael’s arm again. He tried to yank Sammael back to his seat, but the younger angel was resisting. Gabriel tucked several more wings around his head and curled his major set around his body, curling up in his throne. Raphael was doing the same. Both of their self-preservation instincts were screaming for them to get out, get out, but Gabriel did not dare move from his Father’s presence. The Lord was a pillar of blue fire behind them, cold enough to sear their wings, and His anger was a palpable thing, slamming over the Archangels in waves. Michael managed to drag Sammael to the ground, bending over him and spreading his thousand wings, sheltering his brother from the worst of God’s wrath.
They were going to die.
Gabriel could all too easily see how this was going to end. Their Father’s rage would intensify until the entire chamber was a blazing inferno. Raphael and Gabriel would be cremated instantly, their grace maybe leaving a smudged shadow in their thrones. Michael, the oldest, the strongest, the greatest, would outlive them by a few seconds before even he was destroyed. That would then leave Sammael unprotected before God. The full force of His wrath would shred Sammael’s grace, fill him with anger and blast him into dust. They would all die today, and four of the Seraphim would be promoted to their thrones. Maybe Cariel would take Gabriel’s spot, or cheerful Barachiel. Gabriel hoped Zachariah would be overlooked for the promotion. Zachariah didn’t need any more power.
Far to Gabriel’s right, Raphael couldn’t stifle a whimper. He must have reached the same conclusion. Gabriel hugged his wings tighter around himself and wished that he could reach out for Raphael, so he did not have to die alone. There was nothing to do now but wait for the inevitable.
But it wasn’t fair! The rebellious thought flooded up in Gabriel’s mind, a sentiment Gabriel had often heard from the humans he watched over. Sammael was the only one finding fault with God’s decree. Gabriel liked the humans. They were crude, yes, but they were also just babies, like the Seraphim had once been, the Angels, the Cherubim. He wanted to help them grow, to teach them about Heaven and their Father. Gabriel didn’t have any problems bending his knee to their curious little lives. Why should he be killed because Sammael was upset?
He shouldn’t be. He wouldn’t be. Their Father was many things-terrifying, omnipotent, omniscient-but He wasn’t unjust. His wrath was not meant for Gabriel, not this time. If any of them died today, it would only be Sammael. Maybe Michael, if he continued to protect his partner. Gabriel was just a bystander. God was not so crude with His power. He would not accidentally smite Gabriel while aiming for Sammael, and He would not intentionally smite Gabriel for Sammael’s impertinence. Slowly, Gabriel began to uncurl his wings, a tendril of relief spreading through his grace. This would not be his end. He would live to see Cariel again, his choir, his Earth. If only he could convince Sammael to apologize before it was too late…
God’s presence loomed behind Gabriel, blue fire licking down the arms of his throne. Gabriel yelped and yanked himself back in, feeling the familiar weight of his Father’s attention solely on him. On the floor, Michael lifted his head to stare, and he could make out Sammael’s bright gaze under the shadow of Michael’s wings.
You calmed yourself.
The fire went out. The cold dispersed. A tickle of his Father’s amusement touched Gabriel between his wings. Gabriel nearly wept in relief.
In the face of My wrath, you alone found a center. Your brothers cowered and feared Me. Why did you not?
“I…” Gabriel’s voice was weak, tremulous. His Father stroked over his wings, soothing the pain from His cold rage. “I just… thought it through.”
Puzzlement from his brothers. Gabriel ducked his head beneath their gazes, embarrassed to be singled out.
One of Michael’s wings, stiff and flaking from the direct exposure to God, stretched across the distance between them, brushing against Gabriel’s grace with a flash of peace and gratitude. Michael was thanking him for distracting their Father and calming His rage. Bolstered by this encouragement, Gabriel straightened and tried to explain himself.
“I applied logic to the situation. It’s something… something humans do. Father was furious, but not at me. Father is just and good. Therefore, Father would not punish me, accidentally or on purpose, when I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was safe in His presence, and logically, had nothing to fear.”
Logical thinking. A trick of humanity. See how Gabriel listened to them, learned from them. He bowed to their superior knowledge and used it to better himself.
“He didn’t bow to anyone!” Sammael pushed out from under Michael’s wings, radiating his own cold fury. “He entertained himself with human gossip, nothing more. Don’t try to twist this to Your purposes. In no way are humans superior to angels, to my brothers!”
Gabriel had idolized Sammael ever since he first opened his eyes and beheld him. Sammael had taught Gabriel all he knew about flying and spells and practically everything, but right now, Gabriel was cringing. How can he be so stupid?
Michael.
God’s rumbling voice was directed at His oldest now. Michael rose to his feet behind Sammael and dipped in a very low, contrite bow, nearly pressing his chest to the floor. “Yes, Father?”
You will escort your brother out. Return when you have finished.
“Yes, Father.”
Michael seized Sammael’s arms, dragging him away from the thrones. Sammael protested, but Michael was stronger and fueled by a command from God. He all but threw Sammael out of the doors, slamming them in Sammael’s face.
Gabriel looked over at Raphael, meeting his partner’s gaze. Neither said anything as Michael returned, giving God a stiff bow before taking his seat.
Let us continue.
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