The Wayward Son

Remiel brought a knee down into the sand. Michael was there a second ago, but had been moving faster every few seconds. He had been doing that for the past few weeks. Nonstop the two had been at it. Remiel was getting better. A lot better.

Shifting his weight in the sand, Remiel rolled back. Still on his knees, Remiel dug his hand into the sand and swept his legs around at Michael. Remiel didn’t slow any. With a quick motion, he flipped to his feet and grabbed Michael as he was still avoiding the last attack. Twisting and letting loose, Remiel threw Michael into the sand.

Remiel was relentless. Stepping back some, he stretched his arms out wide and focused on his energy. Both sides of it. A fog of shadow flowed in constant with golden strands of light. Full up on power, Remiel pushed his hands forth and shot the elements at Michael, an explosion of black and gold erupting from where he was kneeling.

“Stop!” Michael said suddenly, halting Remiel as he continued his assault. “Good. Very good. You learn fast.”

Remiel looked at his hands. The darkness and the light still pulsed and swirled around his fingers. He’d never truly get used to it. Michael explained to him that it was his unique nature. He was born from a first light. A moment between day and night. Because of this, he controlled both the indomitable light and the unclenching shadow. Two forces of opposite nature within his body.

“It’s not me,” Remiel replied.

Michael sighed and walked to the centre of the island. Kneeling, he touched his hand to a patch of grass growing randomly from the sand and what looked like the beginning of olive trees among it all. The grass sprouted a days before. Simply growing for no reason. Neither Michael nor Remiel tended to the vegetation. It simply grew.

“I understand the feeling. All angels do. It is something you must learn to control or it will overwhelm you,” Michael explained.

Remiel nodded and kept scanning over his hands. He didn’t understand what letting it overwhelm would do, but it scared him. While he thought about it, Remiel looked out across the island. It had been growing over the weeks. The once small twenty foot island stretched out five times as long.

“What’s happening to the island?” Remiel asked Michael.

Michael smirked, “The water is fading. The Flood is over. Some humans will find land here soon.”

“How?”

“They will have help from above.”

Remiel turned to Michael and raised an eyebrow, “The Maker?”

“A bird,” Michael answered with a laugh, pointing out into the skyline.

Looking in that direction, Remiel saw the bird Michael was talking about. A shining white dove was lofting his way. Remiel thought it was the sun that was causing the bird’s feathers to shine, but as it got closer, he noticed that it actually was shining.

As the dove closed in on the island, Michael stuck an arm out and let it land. “Hello, old friend. How are you?” The dove furled it’s feathers, which somehow answered Michael. Seeing Remiel’s confusion, Michael introduced the bird, “Remiel, this is the Holy Spirit. One of three embodiments of the Maker.”

Remiel faltered, “Uh…hi.”

“Would you please grab one of those?” Michael asked, pointing to the olive branches sprouting from the sand.

“Sure,” Remiel replied and picked one of the better looking plants. “What for?”

Michael smiled, “Just something for proof.”

“Proof?”

“Nothing for you to worry about right now, Remiel. You and I must be off.”

“To where?”

Michael simply smiled and gave the Holy Spirit the olive branch, letting him fly off. The dove flapped its wings leisurely and disappeared in the sky. Waiting a minute, Michael finally answered, “Let’s go.”

Remiel was about to ask again, but stopped when Michael began to walk away. Michael stopped at the edge of the water and breathed slowly. Remiel watched in wonder as power surged from the angel. Something was happening with the angel and Remiel had a feeling he should be trying the same thing.

Breathing slowly, Remiel focused and felt the power flow. It was different from when he was fighting. It was dangerous. It was special. Special to only him. After a few more breaths, the power erupted, flowing like lightning through Remiel’s body. Soon the flow subsided and Remiel opened his eyes.

What he saw astounded him. Two wings curled around him from his back. Each feather shined a pure white and faded out with a bright shade of grey. Remiel stroked a hand across the feathers, the feeling warmed him.

“Are you ready?” Michael asked, breaking Remiel away from his wings.

Remiel looked at him and lost his words. Michael stood before him bearing his own wings. The wings stretched out a lot farther than Remiel’s and were a lot more extravagant. The top bone area’s feathers were faded black, but every other feather glowed a strange purple.

Remiel shook off the daze and answered, “Yes. Are we flying?”

Michael laughed, “No. Sorry. Not today. We are taking the stairs.”

“Stairs?”

Still laughing, Michael turned back to the water and waited. Remiel didn’t know what for, but hen he saw it. A beam of light broke the clouds above and crashed down on the edge of the island.

Michael looked into the light for a second and then gestured for Remiel to walk on, “After you.”

For some reason, Remiel smiled. He didn’t know what was beyond, but he couldn’t wait to see it. So he walked into the light.