Michael sat with his wings folded and his back against the tree. He looked down at his hand and grimaced. He could still feel the heat of her blood in his palm. He was shedding more tears and feathers, but he couldn’t help it.
“You’re doing it again,” Jophiel said, picking up one of the vibrant blue plumes.
“What am I supposed to do?” Michael looked over his shoulder at Jophiel, sitting on the tree branch behind him. “How can I defeat Lucifer?”
“You must forgive him. You must love him,” Jophiel laid his hand over Michael’s; both hands were red.
Michael snorted and jerked his hand from Jophiel’s. He harshly wiped away his tears.
“Love conquers all,” Michael said with a sigh.
“Everything comes to an end; even Lucifer’s cruelties. The only person you’re slaying now is yourself.” Jophiel brushed a lock of yellow hair from his face.
Michael nodded. He knew this. Somehow knowing and understanding with the mind wasn’t the same as feeling it in the heart.
“We have work to do,” Michael said.
He jumped down from the tree and let his wings unfold to catch him. The wind carried him upward. He soared over the scorched and broken landscape, scanning the black terrain for those of the new breed. He was a half breed himself; falling farther from the other angels every day. Half his feathers were gone now. Even as he flew, they continued to loosen and flutter away. He felt as if each feather was a moment of love in Uriel’s arms. He missed her. It felt as if nothing were real anymore.
