Prologue

Follow a boy named Michael as he unwillingly rediscovers his secret past and learns of forces he never thought possible all the while he must adjust to this lest his friends and family pays dearly.

Prologue

Solomon.

It was deafeningly silent in the golden city today. The white grey clouds blocked all sunlight. The streets and skies were bare as the city’s citizens chose the comforts of their homes today. Not even the golden trees dared to sway and crystal blue water streams that fell from the marble towers of the Spires of Light were as silent as a whisper.

However it was not quiet for all. Inside the second most tallest spire of the Spires of light, was a spherical room gilded in gold and decorated with thin silks of bright colours and beautiful glowing lights that floated around like fireflies. The room’s walls were shelved with marble and in those shelves were hundreds of books of every type and size; leather-bound, paperback, scrolls and stacks of papers merely bound together with weak string. Bowels, small chests, talismans and relics, even vials and various glowing potions were used as bookends. Every symbol of a mystic’s trade could be found in this room, from the dustiest, moth riddled book, to various limbs of some poor creature hanging from the ceiling.

In the centre of this room was a elderly man draped in an old gray dress robe, emblazoned with gold that had long lost it’s shine. His long gray hair hung on either side of his face while the rest of it was tied loosely at the small of his back. His large brown wings speckled with gold rested on either side of him, careful not to touch the candles. This man, like his fellow citizens, is an angel; and also like his citizens, he sat on his heels amongst the deafening silence. But he was not praying no; he was searching.

Circled around him were scented candles evenly spread to light only the immediate area around him. The light of the fire was as white as the clouds outside and they burned cooly, producing no heat. The incense that was used was strong and sweet. So much so that only those accustomed to it’s strength could bare it for any period of time and even then, it would make the blood run hot and fast and inflict fevers in some. But this incense was necessary for those with the Gift of Nearsight, a special ability born in one of every generation.

Solommael, the angel who sat amongst the scented candles and firefly lights breathed deeply and while he was in this room in form, his mind was elsewhere.

Demar, the demon’s homeworld was a world not unlike Angeris, the home of Angels. Generally it was hotter with humidity levels that made it difficult to fly as an angel. But right now the dark gray clouds blocked Demar’s scorching twin suns and the pelting rain and heavy winds washed away any humidity the world was accustomed too. Thunder raged and lightning threatened the lives of angels and demons alike as they fought like ravenous animals both in the air and on the barren, sodden ground.

Angels in white and golden armour fought demons clad in black metals and body tight leathers. Feathered wings of varying brown, white and black patterns clashed against leathery, boney bat like wings. Metals of every alloy created a music they could dance to as they smashed, scraped and clanged in the motion of battle. Crimson added it’s own dash of colour to the dreary monotone colours of rain and war as it stained the ground and mixed with water.

Solommael was unmoved by the sights and sounds of this scene as he continued to sit in his room. His eyes were closed to the world around him and open to the skirmish on Demar. As an angel, battles like this even large scale battles, were a regularity. Angels and demons alike were bred for this, to fight and to kill and they had been for as long as recorded history. But this battle was one he needed to watch.

He had seen this battle before; hundreds of times before and as it got closer, his visions of this battle only became that much more intense and frequent. New details would become clear, signs would align… and now it is here. The battle he has been preparing for, for forty-three years... is now.

From his spot in the centre of his candles he scanned the battlefield in Demar. Dead or dying angels and demons alike fell as they were slain, screamed their battlecries and fell some more. He didn’t have time to see which angels belonged to Angeris and which fought against them but he managed to catch a glimpse of an Angerin angel fall at the hands of angel rebel. If more than a lifetime of war hadn’t already desensitised him, this entire conflict would be disheartening and appalling. Angels fighting angels and demons alike and the same went for demons. Such was a three fronted skirmish.

“K-Kayllee!” He heard his grandson’s voice call in his mind and he searched the ground below his vision frantically. Now...

“Mikael shilah! Ray!” He heard another person’s voice belonging to an angel named  Jehoel. Mikael move! Now! Oh Jehoel, it’s already too late. He thought as he opened his milky almost blind golden eyes and stood. His bones ached in protest and his wings folded close to his body. He felt the need to stretch but he didn’t allow himself the time.

I have one chance at this. He thought as he walked to an archway leading to the outside of his spire to overlook the entirety of the Golden city. With his poor eyesight he could barely make out the marble railings stopping him walking off the edge and the gray white sky above them, but he held out a hand and moved until he touched the marble smoothness.

He spread his wings and pushed himself off his balcony, trusting his large wings to catch him. He clicked his fingers and a portal appeared before him and he entered the air space of the war zone he was listening in on.

In his mind the rain, the fighting angels and demons, the earth was all clear; every detail was noted in memory and so he didn’t need to rely on his poor sight to guide him to where he needed to be.

He flew through fighting pairs and dodged bodies of soldiers slain above him until he sensed his grandson nearby and he stopped to hover. He couldn’t make anything out as he searched and so he closed his eyes and listened. He listened to every drop of rain, every breath of life and he paid attention to every detail at his disposal. Every change in the wind from a beat of a wing to a swing of a sword, every ounce of heat and wave of death as another angel fell. He sifted through every sensation, every sound until he sensed his grandson somewhere on the ground to his left.

“K-Kayllee!” His grandson’s voice called out and he turned to him. He saw a blurry figure in white gold armour, black hair and large black feathered wings spread behind him as he outstretched his hand to the sky.

“Mikael shilah! Ray!” Jehoel’s voice called out and grabbed his attention. Jehoel was a tall, blonde haired angel and had been Mikael’s best friend for as long as they knew each other. Together, he and his grandson lead the rebel group of angels and demons alike in an attempt to halt the war, but so far they had been only moderately successful.

His attacker behind him took a step back and flew away quickly and Jehoel pursued. Solommael landed beside his grandson as he lay dying in a pool of his own blood trying to breath.

“S-Solommael…” Mikael said weakly as Solommael brushed his hair from his face.

Mikael was a handsome young angel, black of hair and feather and eyes as gold as the purest sunlight. He resembled his father, Solommael’s late son, only 80 years younger.

“Shh.” Solommael examined the wound in his chest. It was deep and made with demonic blade; if he didn’t act immediately he’d miss his chance to save him.

“K-Kayllee…” Mikael tried to say but he found it hard to speak through the blood in his mouth.

“Kayllee shaina Mikael.” Solommael told him she was okay, though he didn’t completely know if that was true.

He clicked his fingers and beside him a portal opened up. He could feel the chilled breeze of Earth come through it. Carefully he lifted Mikael up and carried him, his angelic black wings falling limp under him made him heavy to carry but he managed. He stepped through the portal and immediately spread his wings to catch him.

Earth, approximately early morning. He’d appeared over ocean roughly southwest of where he needed to be but it would not take long to get there. He looked to his grandson near unconscious in his arms. His skin was pale and he struggled to keep his eyes open as hard as he tried. He knew he needed to make haste.

He followed his internal compass across the ocean below until his senses became fuzzy. He changed his direction to directly below him towards the water, hovering just 5 metres above the choppy and dangerous surface. He cast a silent spell and the water began to swirl. It started small at first and then the swirling got larger and larger, and faster and faster until the centre opened to make a very large tunnel of water. The tunnel appeared to go on forever, until not even the daylight could pass through it’s watery walls. But Solommael saw the rocky ledge that sprouted out from the wall of water.

Solommael flew down the tunnel and landed on the ledge still soaked and dripping from the water that been hiding it. What he could not see until landing was a cave hidden inside the water wall, dark as midnight. No light shone through its depths but he needed what was inside.

He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before he blew out a tiny white ball of light that floated into the cave. He blew out two more before he adjusted his wings and his grandson and made his way into the cave.

Water trickled down the walls and dripped from the roof, shimmering and glinting when his balls of light touched it. The stone floor was slippery and treacherous and he heard the splashes and flopping of fish air drowning. The cave continued around soft corners for almost 100 meters when the walls and the roof grew larger and opened into a large cavern lit by a marvelously bright blue crystal.

The crystal was large, as large as the back cavern’s wall and the light it resonated with seemed to shimmer and glow and swirl inside the crystal as if it was alive. It danced like a ribbon and pulsed like a heartbeat.

The balls of light he had summoned winked out and in the centre of the room he layed Mikael down as carefully as he could without hurting him. Mikael was extremely weak right now and his head lolled to one side when he had set him down. Solommael took one more glance at the crystal as if waiting for acknowledgement. It felt like it was watching him and for a moment he almost forgot what he was supposed to do.

Shaking the distraction from his mind he turned his attention back to Mikael who laid before him barely able to breathe. Sweat clung his hair to his skin and blood continued to leak down to the rock beneath him.

“Kay-llee…” Mikael whispered weakly.

“Kayllee shaina Mikael. Mikael tokla ra mas.” Solommael asked him to look at him and weakly he did.

“Shaina Mikael. Fu’nah shaya to Earth. Fo ro’uno mas, shaina?” You’re okay Mikael, you’re on Earth. I’m going to save you, okay… He thought as he glanced at the crystal. Please work. He prayed before touching Mikael’s white golden armor to make it disappear into dust and allowing him access to his wound.

The crimson red cloth he wore underneath had been white prior to his battle but now the blood stained it so perfectly one wouldn’t even know unless they knew better. He couldn’t let this sight shake him though; he’d have time later to act emotionally.

He held out his right hand and summoned forth a plain white dagger with soft swirling engravings on the handle. This was a generic angelic weapon, one without any kind of power save for the sharpness of the blade. Any angel could summon one of these blades unlike their personalised weapons of choice but due to it’s lack of power or any remarkable traits, they were used only as last resorts or for missions that called for a more… anonymous approach. For this particular occasion, Solommael needed it for it’s lack of power.

With the white dagger in his right hand he cut the palm of his left, dropped the dagger to the stone beside him and rubbed both his hands together before placing them over Mikael’s wound.

His hands quickly began to glow as he focused his Grace to his hands and channeled it through the blood that dropped onto Mikael’s wound. His blood appeared white and shimmering and after the first few drops had entered Mikael’s body he felt the ritual beginning.

Mikael’s breath caught in his throat and he arched his back as if in pain but he didn’t have the strength to protest for long. Despite not having the physical energy to try and stop him Solommael could feel his grandson’s growing anxiety and confusion.

“Shaina Mikael. Sotoray.” You are okay Mikael. Trust me.

The blue crystal’s pulse changed suddenly then and the light became a red so bright it lit the entire cave. The pulsing ceased and the power emanating from it engulfed them in  chill so fresh it threatened to interrupt his ritual. He was prepared for this though… he had seen it and knew this was a test he’d need to see through if he sought to succeed.

The ritual he was performing was one that had never been successfully performed before. But with the knowledge of foresight that had been granted to him as a child he had seen what was needed of him and he had been preparing for this moment for over forty years now.

Though even with his Gift of Near-sight there were still some details that weren’t clear to him. He knew Mikael’s soul would need an uninhabited host that shared his blood and he knew a seal would be used to protect him… and he also knew that something would be taken from Solommael as a toll for the service of the crystal beside them. His host had been arranged after years of preparation but the details on this ‘seal’ that was supposed to be used or what was going to be taken from him were unclear. He was also unsure on the part the crystal played but he knew that without the crystal there would be no ritual.

The only other thing he knew was that this was not a guaranteed option to save him; the crystal could reject him as easily as accept him. In that regard he believed he depended on Mikael’s will to continue living for the crystal to accept him. He had seen glimpses of both outcomes but which was more likely eluded him.

Take my wings, take my life, just save him please. He prayed as the red light grew more intense and his blood began to burn his skin as it left him.

Solommael’s vision was blurry as it had been his whole life. He’d never been able to see clearly except for in his visions. It was the price paid for being an Oracle. For the Gift of Near sight, live sight was almost taken from young seers at birth. They were born this way and it was how one knew who had the gift. Thanks to this he couldn’t tell if Mikael’s wound was improving or not and all he had to go one was Mikael’s emotions; which were not comforting to say the least.

Soon though, his eyes began to sting intensely, forcing him to recoil slightly and blink his eyes a few times. His concentration wavered and panic forced his attention acutely onto what he was doing. He couldn’t be distracted; he couldn’t let Mikael down… but the pain only grew and soon warmth trailed down his cheeks into his white beard.

And then the most astonishing thing began to happen: he could see. Clearly. At first he thought he was having a vision but it dawned on him that this was real and it was happening. His wrinkled glowing white hands became so detailed he could follow every fold of skin, every diamond pattern, the shine on his nails and the hair of an old man.

Beneath his hands he could see Mikael’s drenched shirt, the blood that glowed and shimmered like something molten, the tiniest breath that Mikael took. He could see Mikael’s pulse in his neck close to his skin, the tiny hairs on his jaw that been messily growing for the past few months now. Tears slowly rolled down his hollow and pale cheeks and sweat made his skin shine sickly. His hair was as black as his late father’s had been and it became apparent to Solommael that while he had seen his grandson in his visions it wasn’t until now that he realised just how much he looked like his father… Solommael’s son.

Mikael had always been adventurous, inquisitive and loyal; smart and brave and just… he was a leader, a fighter, an inspiration to thousands but right now he was his grandson… his only grandson and he would be damned if he were to let him die now.

Take my gift. If my Gift of Near sight is what you demand then take it! I will not watch him die. Not now, not ever. And if my gift isn’t enough then take my life too… one life for another. Give him the chance he never got; give him the chance I should have given him. Just please… don’t let him die.

The red of the crystal flashed white and he needed to close his eyes to shield them from the intensity but when it died down he saw the cave was blue again. Confused he turned to the crystal and saw soft white with a hint of blue light reaching out to Mikael’s body so softly and gently, like a mother’s touch and something told him to stand back.

Before he knew what he was doing he was standing and taking five steps away from the sight before him. Mikael’s breathing had settled and when the arms of light touched him he breathed out a white, glowing ball the size of small pebble. It floated out his mouth and his body began to rise as if being lifted by an invisible force.

The arms of light enveloped his body comfortingly and brought him into the crystal. The surface of the crystal rippled as if it was really solid until Mikael was secure inside the centre, wings and all and then the crystal flashed and it became solid again.

What he had just witnessed was unlike anything he had ever seen, even his visions were not so beautiful. His body floated encased inside the pulsing blue crystal, his arms relaxed and his head down. He looked to be sleeping eternally, preserved in time. He would be safe down here from everything: demons, angels, war, humanity… everything. Lifetimes, ages, wars could pass and he would sleep.

He’d almost forgotten about the ball of light until it floated up to him and he realised what had happened. The body inside the crystal was just that… a body and beside him… the ball of light no bigger than his little finger nail… was him. Mikael’s soul.

That’s why I needed an uninhabited host of blood… to house his soul... It clicked!

“Fu’nah shurikay.” You’re going to need a home. He thought softly to the ball and it seemed to respond happily as if raced off towards the exit of the cavern.

Sparing one last glance at his grandson’s body he followed the ball through the cave, down the tunnels he’d came through and out into the open tunnel of water that was still there, waiting for them to leave.

He kicked off the rocky ledge and summoned forth his Grace to create a golden barrier to stop the water from flooding the cave. He was sure he’d be fine, but he was taking every precaution. When he was done he released the water and raced to the top of the tunnel before the water could trap him in.

Too many thoughts were racing through his head as he watched the water crash into itself and gradually begin to settle. Without his Gift of Nearsight he found himself more blind than he’s ever been. He relied on it so heavily that to not know what to expect, even his possibilities, was terrifyingly frightful. The ball of light hovered before his eyes and pushed his concerns aside for now. He’d have time later to think, but right now Mikael still needed him.

‘He won’t be the only one.’ He thought. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and lead the way to the mainland.

During his time on Earth over the last 40 odd years, he’d learned most of Earth’s common language as well as the geography. He knew he’d be spending some time here and that he’d need to know how to blend in and where he needed to be. His natural compass told him where land was but from there he’d need to find his way to a city in California known as Sunny Vale. From there he’d be able to make his way to the hospital hopefully with time to spare.

Angel’s wings were large and strong, capable of carrying an angel in full armor at top speeds for several hours before getting tired. Solommael was wearing his greying seer’s robe made of thin linen and lined with the smallest traces of gold. That fact on top of how small Earth was in comparison to his own world, Angeris, meant it took him very little time before he found himself in Florida.

From high above the surface he examined the coastline as well as the sky and judged it to be just a few hours past dawn. He’d need to go North West which would put him in the wee hours of the morning in California. Remembering his vision, he had plenty of time to make it there.

The ball was floating beside him and he wondered how long a soul could live without a body. The thought made the warmth of his skin leave him and he found himself unwilling to test it.

Together they headed north west, remaining just below the clouds. The flew over cities and farms, fields and forests. Large hills and winding rivers until they reached the borders of California. It got darker and darker as they travelled across the country and the weather changed from what looked like would be a glorious day in Florida, to a depressing one in California.

Solommael looked out for familiar buildings and setups until he came to his human hometown and from there quickly located the Hospital. It was raining heavily but the wind at least was not so violent.

He got closer to the Hospital, careful not to be seen by anything and when he saw the Hospital’s roof was clear of any emergency air machines or humans of any profession he landed by the building that would allow him access to the rest of the Hospital. The ball of light, following obediently.

He manipulated the Grace in his large soaking wings and they disappeared into golden dust behind him. After that he found a glass door and opened it. Inside the walls and floors were white, the lights were bright and it was quiet save for the water dripping onto the floor thanks to him.

He held the door open and rung his robe as much as he could so as not to drag too much water into the building and when he was done he saw his reflection in the door. His grey long hair made him appear older, and with his wings hiding he wondered when he’d use them again. If everything succeeded he’d be a fugitive and a traitor. That aside Mikael would need someone to watch over him as he grew and considering the life he’s had, Solommael was not going to abandon him now. He’d have to live on Earth… as a human.

‘How can I do anything else?’ He asked himself and sadly he composed himself. His life as an angel was over regardless, there wasn’t much point to dwell on the matter. He caught the ball of light floating beside him in his hands and turned to leave.

He walked down the hallway until he found a larger area of the hospital that had waiting chairs and private rooms, a large reception desk and elevators to the side. This area of the hospital was for serious and special cases, one usually restricted to family members and staff. He pretended to act as if he was meant to be there and no one stopped to ask him anything; not even in the lift as he made his way down to the second floor.

He had familiarised himself with the hospital several times before and knew he needed to make his way to the maternity wing, but from there he didn’t know which room his human daughter was in.

He was greeted by corridors of numbered rooms and he didn’t want to waste time looking through every one until he found his daughter. To his luck, a nurse was walking briskly towards him staring at a piece of paper in her hand. He saw she was in a rush but he only needed a second of her time.

“E-excuse me.” He said roughly to her, holding out a hand to catch her attention while keeping the ball of light in his other hand behind him.

She stopped and smiled at him politely, waiting for what he had to say.

“Apologise. My english is not great. I am searching for my daughter. Grace Davison. She is with child.” Solommael said in his best english.

Immediately the nurse looked relieved but as quick as it washed over her it was replaced with urgency again.

“You are Solomon Angeris correct? I was just going to the front counter to see if you were here. Come with me, I’ll take you to her.” The nurse said, taking him by the arm and directing him to where she had been coming from.

He kept up with ease but she seemed to think he was struggling and they only walked as quick as she thought he could.

“Grace is doing fine, the doctor is with her now attempting to deliver the babies. Neither you nor her husband was with her so I went to go look. It’s a good thing you’re here, she could really use some love and support.” The nurse continued to say until they reached her room.

The nurse opened the door for him and inside he saw Grace immediately laying on the bed surrounded by nurses trying to keep her calm. The doctor was at her open legs under the blanket to keep her privacy and he was telling her to breathe and push. Machines were working tirelessly, monitoring her vitals beeping loudly. Nurses were throwing medical jargon at each other while one nurse kept a damp cloth on Grace’s forehead and held her hand for support.

Grace herself was pink faced and breathing hard as she pushed hard. It seemed he’d arrive not a moment too soon.

He approached her and took the nurses place, taking her hand in his. The ball of light he’d been concealing left him and entered her skin unnoticed. She squeezed as hard a human could and when she could breathe again she stared at him angrily. Her blue eyes were on fire and her golden hair clung to her skin with sweat and damp water.

“Where have you been?! Where is John?” She asked him forcefully.

“I don’t know, I only just got here myself.” Solommael answered her stiffly. So much had been happening he didn’t even think about her husband’s whereabouts. It was raining outside, perhaps he was stuck in traffic somewhere.

“Grace, push sweetheart, you’re almost there.” The doctor said to her and Grace took some quick deep breaths before screaming in pain as she pushed.

After some time of this the door opened Solommael saw John standing in the door frame, dripping from head to toe and breathing hard and fast as if he’d been running.

“Sir, you can’t be in here-” One of the nurses said as she approached him.

“I’m her husband. Grace, I’m so sorry! I got here as quickly as I could.” John said as he rushed over to Grace’s side. He took her free hand and kissed her forehead.

John Davison was a good looking human, tall and rough but in a comely and fit way. His dark hair, short stubble and slightly tanned skin on top of his square jaw and toned physique made him the eye candy of every woman, but he was faithful and more loyal a human than Solommael has ever known. He was thankful that the human his daughter fell in love with was John.

“I’ll leave you with John for a moment. I’ll be right back I promise.” Solommael said to Grace and she eagerly released him from her grasp.

The nurses were wiping up the puddles of water John had left behind him and he gingerly stepped around them so as not to interfere with their work. Once he was outside he closed the door behind him and took a seat on the closest chair he found just outside the room.

He sighed heavily as he finally allowed himself a moment to take everything in. In just over an hour his grandson had almost died, had his soul stripped from him and been transferred into a human host. On top of which Solommael had sacrificed his life in Angeris as well as his Gift of Near sight for the chance this ritual would succeed.

‘And I can’t rest yet…’ He thought tiredly. ‘After Mikael is reborn I will need to return to Angeris briefly to collect some essentials. When the Council realises what I’ve done they’ll raid my sanctuary and no doubt try to undo everything I have done.’

He felt a warmth trail down his cheek suddenly, bringing back from his thoughts. Touching his cheek he saw blood on his finger tips and his heart rate jumped. He looked around frantically until he found a door with a sign above it that had a human shape symbol on it. He raced for the door, careful not to bring attention to himself and when he got it he quickly locked the door behind him and stared into the mirror above the sink.

His eyes were beginning to bleed from his tear ducts to paint his cheeks red. Quickly he ran the water from the tap and carefully wiped the blood away. It didn’t stop the bleeding, it only seemed to thin the blood. He felt he’d be okay but he had no idea what to do about it right now. He wasn’t trained in the medical field and he feared having a human look at him lest they somehow figured out he wasn’t human.

He stood over the sink with his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the solid porcelain. He kept his eyes open but in the darkness of his hands. Water only thinned the blood and made it run into his eyes; and without proper medical training the only thing he could do was wait for it to stop on it’s own. He knew this was a result of sacrificing his Gift. He’d never seen clearly before in his life, no Oracle had. Every Oracle was born with the Gift and the price of the Gift was 97% of one’s eyesight. Now that his Gift was gone so was his partial blindness; and his eyes were not ready for that.

After some time he checked his eyes again in the mirror. He carefully washed the dried blood on his cheeks away and as he got closer to his eyes he only dabbed underneath. They had finally stopped bleeding but he didn’t want to make it start again.

‘With how much time has passed I’ve no doubt missed the birth…’ He thought annoyedly. His eyes were a little red and puffy but he hoped no one would notice.

He took a deep breath before he let himself out of the bathroom and immediately he paused in confusion. He saw John sitting alone on one of the waiting chairs right outside the room, his head buried in his hands that were tightly gripping his dark brown almost black hair. He was confused because not only John not in with his wife but he appeared distressed.

Carefully but hastily Solommael approached him, kneeling down before him. He was going to touch his shoulder but thought better of it.

“John, what’s wrong? What happened?” Solommael asked him, hoping beyond hope that every possibility in his head was unanswered.

John didn’t answer, he merely shook his head from side to side. He couldn’t answer him and Solommael thought the worst; Mikael didn’t survive. Was he too late? Did he spend too much time without a body? Was he not strong enough? Or… was the body not strong enough? Are human bodies too weak to house the souls of angels?

He stood quickly and entered the room. He was met with Grace laying on her bed being comforted by the nurses, the machines beeping normally and the doctor was nowhere to be seen. Grace appeared to be happy though… or as happy as she can be with all the medication the nurses had given her.

He walked over to her and took her hand and she sleepily looked at him with a smile across her face.

“Dad…” She said in a tired breathy voice. She was quiet and weak but something about her mood confused him. John was outside in some kind of distress and she was in here seemingly relieved.

“Hey little one. How are you feeling?” He asked her. He felt it was a dumb question but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Michael…” She answered weakly. He became very confused now.

“Sorry?”

“His name… is Michael.”

“Whose?” He asked her.

“You’re grandson of course. He spoke to me… his name is … Michael.” Grace said happily.

“Sir? May I speak with you?” The doctor said suddenly from beside him. Solommael went with him and the doctor took him to a small room within the room. He spoke in hushed tones, so Grace would not hear him.

“I’m sorry to tell you this but… the children didn’t make it.”

The children… didn’t make it. Those words repeated in his mind over and over again but he almost didn’t even hear them.

“They… didn’t…. Make it? I’m sorry what-”

“Grace miscarried. The infants were not strong enough to handle being removed from the mother. I’m sorry sir there was nothing we could do to foresee this and nothing we could do to prevent it.” The doctor explained. His voice was serious and full of remorse and it was now that Solommael heard what he was saying.

“It didn’t work…” Solommael said to himself quietly.

“I am so sorry for your loss sir. It is a real tragedy to lose a child in childbirth, let alone both of them.”

“Both of them?” Solommael asked. The world seemed to pause in time save for the two of them and he waited for an eternity for his answer.

“Grace gave birth to twins, two boys. I am so very sorry.” The doctor said and he left him then.

‘Maybe that’s why… something must have went wrong because she was pregnant with twins? But I didn’t see that. I saw one child… alive in one scenario and … gone in the next but never twins.’ He thought frantically.

His gaze shifted to two bundles on a table within the smaller room and slowly he approached them. They were covered and so small it looked like just bundles of towels. For all he knew they were but still, he reached to them and felt them. Underneath the cloth he felt something solid and knew it was more than just a towel.

Swallowing his fear he felt himself go numb before he moved the blanket to reveal a tiny, pink skinned baby unmoving. He was laying with his arms curled up to his chest as if to keep warm and his eyes were closed. If he didn’t know better he’d say it was just sleeping. The baby was no more than 25 cm long and rolls of skin made him appear soft and squishy. Tiny black hairs sprung from the top of his head but still… he wasn’t breathing.

He moved the other bundle to reveal the child underneath but when he touched it he felt something inside him, something stir like a sense.

He knew this sense too well and it have birth to hope so strong he felt half a fool for letting himself feel it. He pulled the blanket away from the remaining child and was met with a baby identical to his brother only… breathing. His golden eyes were open and wide, looking around wildly but he could not see him. He moved his arms as if reaching towards him and Solommael felt that the child knew he was there despite not being able to see right now.

Slowly he let the child touch his finger, his hands weren’t even big enough to wrap around one of his fingers. But when they touched happiness washed over both of them. The baby smiled and made a tiny noise and once again Solommael felt something warm on his cheeks. With one hand he checked to see if he was bleeding again but this time, the liquid was clear. He was crying.

Looking at the tiny baby before him he realised the sense he felt was Mikael coming back to life. He didn’t even realise when he stopped sensing his presence but now that he could feel it, alive and strong, he never wanted to ignore it again. His grandson made it, and he knew it was Mikael. If his golden eyes weren’t obvious enough he could feel it in his soul, in his skin. The baby was Mikael….

‘No… Michael. Grace said you spoke to her, and that your name was Michael. Michael must be the human translation of Mikael… like mine is Solomon.’ He thought to himself.

Suddenly he heard noises from Grace’s room. The machines were going wild and the doctor and nurses became loud and frantic.

He left Mikael to watch them urgently try to help Grace but the machine’s constant single beep was relentless. He had no idea what was happening but he knew it wasn’t good.

Suddenly John rushed into the room then and one of the nurses needed to show him out. They needed space and to concentrate, Solommael was just surprised he wasn’t asked to leave too. Perhaps they forgot about him.

The doctor asked for something he called a ‘shot of adrenaline’ and the nurse handed him something long and small. He shoved it into Grace’s chest and began to perform CPR. She wasn’t responding so they tried something else with some other machine they needed to wheel over.

He knew what was happening now… Grace wasn’t going to survive. He didn’t know why but he knew there would be nothing the humans could do for her.

Strangely though, he felt no sadness. He loved his daughter, more than he thought he could, but right now he felt emotionally numb to her passing.

He heard a baby’s noise from the table behind him and he returned to Mikael. He was kicking the blanket off him and trying to grab the air but when Solommael approached him he calmed down.

“It’s okay Mikael… You are safe now.” Solommael whispered to him. He touched his cheek and his baby hands went to his fingers again.

He noticed his eyes were still golden and soon the baby began to cry. He felt Mikael’s pain and distress growing the longer he touched him but even after removing himself from the child, the pain didn’t stop and he cried louder and louder.

‘His memories… his knowledge… his human brain isn’t developed enough for it yet… He’ll die if this continues.’ Solommael thought urgently.

He touched both his index fingers to the child’s temples and closed his eyes. He searched Mikael’s mind and imagined all of what made Mikael and placed it behind a seal. Sealing magic was easy enough to perform but Mikael’s seal would need to be different. It would degenerate over time as he got older but not only did it need to seal his memories, it needed to seal his angelic power too. Human bodies were weak, feeble, unable to quickly adapt to Grace… but a little bit at a time should not be an issue.

He would grow up a human, from scratch… but he would be safe, so long as he maintained the seal’s integrity and didn’t push it too far. If the seal were to break, all of his memories, all of Mikael’s power would burst and likely destroy him.

“Kileigh ru’tah Mikael. Dana kileigh ru’tah.” Solommael whispered to him as the baby’s eyes turned from golden to deep blue and soon he fell asleep.

I am here Mikael. I am always here.

Author's Note

Please tell me what you think? I want to know everything, the good and the bad. =) Thanks for reading! xx

Also ignore the highlighted bit, that was changed in drive and I didn't think it would keep the highlight when I copied it.