Page 1 of Good Intentions

The darkness surrounding the small village was only slightly softened by the large bonfire that burned in the center. Small earthen huts encircled the fire, and the people within slept soundly, unaware of the cadre of angels gathering in the darkest pockets of the night.

It sat uncomfortably in my chest, the task I was assigned. As if he knew my thoughts–and perhaps he did–the Archangel Michael turned toward me.

“You know what is right, Raphael.”

I gave him a solemn nod, and headed into the light of the fire. I would still be unseen to the humans there.

Humans were no longer as simple as they’d once been. Much like the other creatures that roamed the earth, they’d been ruled by their hungers; for food, for mates, for safety. But somehow, they’d evolved. They’d created homes, built communities. They were more than they once were.

Which is how we found ourselves in this position. Angelkind, torn in two. An angel who had fallen in love with a woman, a human, and had a child with her. It was… unthinkable. Against the plan. But I knew Gusion. I knew his heart, and it was so big. This would hurt him, but there was nothing to be done.

I heard the moment that the villagers realized we were here. I felt their fear, their awe. From my cowardly hiding spot, I saw the being that had enchanted Gusion. She was something more, that was for certain. She was strong and bright. A vision of what humanity would grow into eventually, though not her.

She rushed from her hut, and moments later, I could hear her pleading with Michael. There was no room in the Archangel’s heart for doubt though. Her pleading would fall on deaf ears, but he would not be cruel. That was not his style, not when he was the right hand of the Father.

I slipped into the hut she’d left, drawn to the small basket in the corner. Inside a babe slept, her glow so bright that none would doubt she was something different. Something special. A half-angel child. A nephilim. She could not live; it was an abomination to the natural order.

Still, I squatted beside the basket. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me with wide, violet eyes. “Sweet child. You shall feel no pain.”

Still, something bubbled in my chest. Her eyes seemed so wise, like she knew I was her end. Only a few beings could end an angel. Azriel, the Hand of Death. Michael, and his sword. And I, the Healer. For sometimes the most healing thing that can be done is to end someone's suffering.

It was why I had been assigned this distasteful task. I lifted the baby from the basket, and a woman appeared. She had a knife in hand, but as she went to bring it down, she halted. Tears streamed down her face. Not Gusion’s obsession, but definitely kin.

“Please, angel. Do not do this. She is innocent.”

I looked at the baby in my arms. A life so new, so unblemished by the burdens of humanity.

I hesitated for so long, and every second that passed solidified what I knew in my heart. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t.

Michael had told me to do what was right, and snuffing out a soul this pure was not it. This wasn’t what was right.

My jaw tensed, and I hesitated. “Collect what you will need, and quickly.”

The woman stared, but then she was moving, throwing a handful of coins and an infant blanket into a bag with other things. I continued to hold the baby, who continued to stare, as if she were judging me with the same even keel of the Father.

Finally, the woman was done and she stood before me. I wrapped my free hand around her wrist. I had to wait for the right moment, when Azriel enacted his terrible power.

When it struck, so did I, transporting the babe and the woman away from this village. Away from the people that were their family.

I landed in the wooded area near a small settlement to the west. It was green and verdant, and they lived similarly to how her people did. The woman was dazed, mumbling beneath her breath. I handed her the infant. “You must never return,” I told her softly.

Then I was gone, returning to the village which was now in ruins.

I walked through the ashes of that civilization. Razed to the ground, nothing remained; not a man, woman or child.

No one said anything as we left that place. And in the rising sun, my wings felt like they were no longer the snowy white of the sinless. The warmth of the dawn light cast them in a soft, pink hue. Father forgive me.

I sat atop a building, and watched the march of death happen below. Mindless death that I was helpless to stop. Man killing man in the name of a God who wanted no such thing.

Calling this a building was probably generous. It was a single remaining wall, and the sharp points of rebar poked out of it like stitches.

My wings hung behind me, unseen by man. I sighed heavily as another bomb fell on a civilian building. I sent my senses toward it, but none inside lived. Sadness washed through me, a helplessness that plagued me like a disease necrotising my organs.

A change in the air had me turning, and I was surprised to find Lucifer. Not as surprised as I once would have been, having been visited by the Fallen angel more than once over the last few years, but still, a surprise.

Beside him, Gusion appeared. I dragged my eyes from him quickly, lest he see the guilt that lived there permanently.

“To what do I owe the honor of a visit from Hell’s Fallen?” I asked softly, my eyes still trained on the gunfire below. An armored vehicle navigated the debris.