The first few days I tore the heavens apart searching for him with my siblings. We had thought he was putting us through another one of his trials, in order to strengthen the resolve of our characters. And so, we searched tirelessly in hopes of living up to his expectations. Perhaps then one of us would be deemed worthy enough to defend the Holy Grail.
Looking back on those anxiety-filled days, I am disgusted with how naïve I was. The constant denial consumed me like darkness. Each night curled beneath the Tree of Wisdom, I anticipated father’s return. Rain or shine I never left my kneeling position, even when I was soaked to the bone; I only saw my suffering as another step towards complete purification and thus total enlightenment. I had carried the hope that if I pleased my father with my resolve and willpower, he would return. I overlooked the fact, that as my father, he should have returned out of love alone.
After three weeks passed, I don’t know how, but I knew he wasn’t coming back. Unlike his normal moments of absence, he had not left one of the elder siblings in charge. Instead of walking around, chest swollen with pride dressed in the traditional gold and silver warrior’s armor, Michael walked listlessly through the winding maze of Nirvana adorned in white prayer robes. Raphael could be seen trailing a few paces behind, as he tried to console his companion. As Michael wallowed in his own self-condemnation, his lack of assertive leading scared others into rash actions.
I slowly lost my trusting nature. Who could I have relied on if not my own flesh and blood? So as I watched rain turn to the blood of my kin, I received my answer, no one. Trivial words once said in jest were transformed into double-edged blades, thin enough to pierce the smallest insecurities. The easygoing child, that I had been, died in the ashes of the riots that would follow. Another piece of father’s flawless image fell away. He had left without a second thought to the consequences of his departure.
The biggest blow I received was when Michael and Raphael began to fight over the significance of father’s desertion. Their once bountiful friendship disintegrated into remnants of a wistful dream. It was exhausting to watch small verbal quarrels transform into physical confrontations that ended with bloodshed and a divided family. With each drop of warm blood spilled, I became colder. Warmth seemed to escape my body through every pore.
Despite how disconnected I felt, I still loved my brothers equally. Michael will always be my knight in shining armor, always there to pick me up when I fall. He sheltered me from the crueler side of humanity, but his optimism infuriated me to no end. Even before our father left he could see the brighter side to life. His resilience was the reason that he believed father’s disappearance was part of a plan greater than ourselves and that through his love father left us. It was just in his character to allow nature to run its course and fix anything that may have been broken.
Gabriel, on the other hand, was always more daring than Michael or I could hope to be. He believed in trying new things, especially if the proceeding included flying across the globe observing humans in their natural habitat. Father always told us about his newest children, but seeing and hearing are two different experiences. In a skewed way, Gabriel always saw Michael’s way of thinking as passive, too much talking and not enough action. His motto always was: Nothing is gained from staying stagnant, but everything is lost.
It was a combination of both their ways of thinking which shocked me into motion. Even when I felt cold and alone, I refused to pick sides. The love I held for my brothers was limitless. I wouldn’t choose one over the other and abandon my family as our father had done. Instead, I decided to find our father and confront him. I deserved tangible proof that we weren’t forsaken without cause.
It was that day I learned that in order to walk the talk, I had to fall from perfection. I could no longer rely on the security of my family for protection; I had to forge my own path, a thought which turned out to be scarier than the actual action. With the courage I had mustered, I set my gaze on Earth. The possibility of finding information on my father’s whereabouts was greater among the humans than my clueless brethren.
Literally and figuratively I stood at the end of a cliff. The drop to the ground was over hundreds of thousands of miles deep. As I stared into the dark abyss, snippets of folk-lore flashed through my mind. There had always been controversial stories surrounding the existence of fallen angels. As children, we were told them by older siblings in hopes of scaring us into good behavior.
The story of Lucifer and the fallen angels had always stayed with me. Angels exiled to Earth without sustenance to support their corporal forms, forced to feed on wicked souls to maintain their stunted wings. When the balance between good and bad was tipped in favor of the morally righteous, these fallen angels began to starve. Never having experienced a hunger so gut-wrenching, they began to lead humans astray in order to replenish their source of nutrition. Humans became nothing more than livestock, bred to be slaughtered in hell.
Even with this gruesome tale in mind, the fear of remaining how I was, unhappy and unsatisfied made me jump. Two steps with my eyes closed were all it took. The air rushed by me as I felt my wings grow heavier. I would have been terrified if it wasn’t for the sudden lightening of my soul. The burden that I had once been shackled with fell from my shoulders like rain against glass. I no longer had to be someone I wasn’t; from henceforth I defined myself through my actions.
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