Bringer of Light

When fresh snow covers the town in a cold blanket and dresses it up as a cloud, winter feels more like home. During the ungodly hours before dawn I can pretend it is. Standing in the deserted park as the snow dusts the earth around me and the thickness of the fog blinds the yellow streetlights, I only see a white cloud. For a fleeting moment it takes on an eerie likeness to the heavens, even the celestial scent of stardust fills my nose. It’s full of warmth—a little like sparklers lit outdoors on a snowy night. I’ve never imagined it so vividly before.

I even feel the feathers on the tips of my long gone wings.

As I take a step and the snow crunches under my boots, the fog thins and the illusion disappears. It’s not quite the same softness. Not the same crisp cold.

The orange light over the lonely bench is not from the sacred flame but a street light, and the person sitting under it has no wings. Once again, I’m aware of the old scars running down my back and my body’s unnatural lightness; despite which my feet only sink deeper into the ground.

Like I’m always being pulled down to damnation. 

Yet somehow, I still smell the stardust.

If not for the cosmic smell, I would’ve walked right past him. Instead, I’m drawn closer. Inhaling his scent deeply, I can’t take my eyes off the young man sitting on the bench, hugging his legs to keep warm. Resting his head on his knees, his blond curls fall into  his face damp with the melting snowflakes.

I come to a stop in front of him, my senses aflame with the closeness of another, and a lost piece of me.

I cannot soften my sharp inhale. There’s no way I’m imagining this all.

‘Little star?’ I whisper in disbelief.

I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t want to confirm he succumbed to the same fate as me or because I don’t wish to see him, but part of me hopes that I’m mistaken. I’m not.

He snaps his head up and even in the low light, I know those bewildered eyes. I know every speck of their gold and every shade of their green. Even after a millennia and some more—I know Selaphiel. But not like this.

‘Where are your wings?’

I try not to feel the selfish regret that makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t want to believe it has come to this. And as I do, I don’t want the feelings of hope and relief—that maybe at his cost everything will be alright—to creep into my heart.

I don’t know what would be the right emotion to feel—maybe it’s because I’ve been down here for long, but maybe I could never tell right from wrong.

After all, I’d let him play with fire.

⁂

Lounging under the torch of the sacred flame I summoned my own, in the shapes of creatures long dead and new. Fire birds and insects fluttered around us, but Selaphiel had his head under the clouds, not caring for the dazzling show he’d used to love as a fledgeling. Bored of guarding the flame with me, the only thing that entertained him was life below the heavens. 

Unlike them, we aged more like the stars. To us, years, decades and centuries were fleeting, and whilst life evolved, changed and died below us, we never peered often enough to see the same creature alive twice. Except Selaphiel.

Gazing down from the edge of our cloud, he followed closely the journey of one human. As he laid on his stomach, his toned legs stretched out behind him with his feet towards me; clean, soft soles had never touched the ground.

Though his wings had grown big and strong, he was not allowed to leave the heavens, not for another few thousand years as part of his punishment. Packed with celestial power and the wanderlust of an adolescent angel, he was taking it well. He complied without complaint, even though he’d been confined half his life—and for the first half he had been too young to fly long distances.  Never had he rebelled, but as his fingers dug into the cloud, and by the way he held his wings so tense, I could tell he was getting impatient. Seeing the others fly free, he wanted to walk the earth himself.

And all I wanted was to take his mind off it.

Sneaking up behind him, I grabbed his ankle.

‘Lulu..!’ He flipped around, his wings raking through the cloud as I pulled him back towards me. My grin melted away as his eyes found mine, a piercing, hard stare holding a raging storm, softened only by the shine of gathering tears. I loosened my grip.

‘What’s wrong, little star?’

He sat and smoothed his feathers. ‘They are freezing,’ he muttered. Everything froze over since I started watching. There’s nothing but ice and snow. Mankind is not made for that. They’re freezing to death. Why doesn’t God do anyth–’

I firmly covered his mouth. ‘You can’t get in more trouble, Selaphiel.’

He dug his short nails into my hand, his wings flapping as he tried to break free but I couldn’t risk letting go. Not when he was unable to keep his tongue.

‘Even if they all die, you have to accept it. You can’t blame– Please. I don’t want you to get hurt. Promise me.’

And there it was. That glint of defiance in his eyes, the light which always glimmered dormant behind his starry gaze. A spark to light a wildfire.

Still, Selaphiel nodded, giving in like he always would.

I let go of him.

He wiped away the angry tears that escaped. ‘Is there nothing we can do?’

I’d not taken him seriously enough. He’d been talking a lot about the human boy he’d been watching recently, that hunter with a wolf pup. Like he knew him. Like he… cared for him.

When I’d  sat next to him to take a look for myself, I had noticed how his muscles tensed when his favourite human seemed to show interest in another.

It was stupid of me not to realise the extent of his passion, when I knew the feeling too well. 

More than I wanted to admit.

‘You know you’d never be able to meet him, even if he survived,’ I said, putting my hand on his wing with a gentle touch. ‘There’s more of your detention left than a thousand human lifetimes.

But there will be other creatures. New life.’

‘They don’t have to go extinct. If we shared the fire–’

‘No. Our job is to protect this flame.’

‘It could save their species.’

‘Then they aren’t supposed to be saved. We cannot give fire to anyone. Not a flame.’

‘But you gave a flame to Michael.’ Selaphiel glared at me. ‘He didn’t even need it. You just did it because you wanted to.’

I swallowed. He had never looked at or talked to me like that before. I didn’t know how to handle it. ‘That was–’

‘What? Different? Why is it supposed to be your shared secret then?’

‘How do you even know…’ I narrowed my eyes, before the realisation dawned on me. ‘You heard us? Wait–’

Selaphiel averted his gaze. ‘The clouds are thin. I… wasn’t sure how to tell you that.’

Everything in me wanted to recoil and hide in a ball of fire. ‘Damn me,’ I squeaked.

‘I won’t tell anyone. Neither part,’ he assured me quietly, avoiding my eyes before circling back to the question of the fire. ‘I think you should do with the fire as you please. You had created it, you are the one with fire. It’s yours. And it never runs out, does it? It should be you who decides–’

‘Selaphiel, enough.’

‘But would you mind?’ he whispered. ‘What if I needed it? You’d save me, wouldn't you? Despite the rules.’

He wasn’t wrong—I would’ve given my wings for him if he ever needed me to. But to let him get on the wrong side of God so he can watch a human for another decade or two?

‘This is not worth the risk.’

‘It’s worth it for me,’ he said under his breath.

‘Little star,’ I started, but couldn't even finish the first sentence of my lecture.

Michael’s gravity pulled all my attention even before he called my name.

‘Lucifer?’

He smiled as I turned towards him.

‘Michael.’ I stood, waiting for him to approach me. My stellar core swirled hotter than fire as he stopped in front of me, his hazel eyes losing me in a galaxy of stardust.

For a moment I got whisked back in time to the vast emptiness, when we were the only light in the universe. It was still like everything else around us fell back to nonexistence whenever he looked at me.

‘I thought if I gave you the last fledgeling you’d have more time to see me.’ His deep, hushed voice ruffled my feathers.

‘I only have one helper. I thought as you snatched all the other angels  you’d have plenty of time to come and see me. I can’t leave the fire for long, Selaphiel is still young–’

Michael’s eyes had never wandered until just recently, but once again, they shifted; gazing behind me at Selaphiel with a flicker of something that used to only be mine. ‘He looks grown enough. You’ve done an excellent job.’

‘I know.’ I moved to block his view, as the fire in me charred me from inside; the result of pride mixing with jealousy.

‘Maybe, I could take him off your hands for a little while. He could spend some time with me–’

‘He is a seraph,’ I said, sharper than intended. ‘His job is to guard the flame.’

Michael narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m only saying this so I can eventually leave him with the others so I can come and spend time with you,’ he hissed.

‘No.’

‘Lucifer. He is bored out of his mind–’

‘Selaphiel is staying with me.’

‘Well,’ He gave me a charming smile, ‘it isn’t your choice to make.’

Placing his hand on my waist, he pushed me out of the way. Gentle, but decisive.

‘Sel–’ Michael put his hand in front of his mouth and snapped his head back at me.

I answered his glare with an innocent smile. ‘Burnt your tongue?’

His fingers moved the way they would when he turned things to stardust. Lifting my wings, I prepared for the cloud to disappear beneath my feet. Seeing me on edge, Michael seemed pleased. A little too much.

‘What are you doing?’

‘What do you think? I want to show you how much you mean to me.’ He pointed above my head, as if the size of the cloud of swirling stardust dwarfing me should be used to represent his affection. Getting denser and denser, it formed a creature. A large, blue mammal of the oceans below. My breath caught.

‘Put it back!’

‘That is exactly what I’m about to do.’ He grinned. Once the whale materialised above me, he snapped his fingers.

***

My hair was still dripping with saltwater when I returned to the flame, finding Selaphiel by himself.

‘Was the whale alright?’ he asked with genuine worry.

‘Yes. But Michael won’t be.’ I growled. ‘What happened while I was gone?’

‘Nothing. I told him I would like to go with him one day to see what everyone else was doing around the Heavenly Hall. But not now. I’m alright with staying here. Watching people and the fire—it’s fine. And you really shouldn’t worry about leaving me for longer… If you would like to go, take a break. It’s not like anybody would attempt to steal the torch.’

I looked in the direction I sensed Michael would be. ‘Are you… sure?’

‘I am.’

I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.

‘Lulu—would you protect me no matter what?’

I never thought he would question it.

‘You doubt that?’ I turned back to him.

‘...You only ever fight about me. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I wasn’t here at all. If you wish it was like at the beginning, when it was only the two of you. I wonder–’

‘Little star…’ I didn’t know what to say. I did miss that time, but… it was never going to return. I wouldn’t want it to. And in the world we lived, I would not want him out of my life.

‘Come here.’

He gasped when I pulled a feather out of my wing. Strong and packed with the essence of fire, it should be powerful enough to protect him.

I placed it over his heart, letting it melt into his chest like molten lava. He didn’t complain about it feeling hot.

‘Trust me, before anyone can hurt you, the world will go up in flames.’

His eyes widened. ‘I’m not sure I want that.’

‘I didn’t really mean that. But it should protect you when I’m not around.’

Selaphiel relaxed his wings and I made up my mind. It had really been too long since Michael and I had some time to ourselves.

‘Could you watch the fire for me, just for a little while?’

‘Sure.’ Selaphiel cleared his throat, a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. ‘Just don’t forget… You know. The thin clouds.’

***

When I returned in the night, taming my feathers, I was welcomed only by silent darkness.

The sacred fire was gone.

And so was Selaphiel.

Gasping for air I lit a ball of fire in my hand, shining it on the clouds around me, hoping its light would find the lost torch and my little star. I hoped I was mistaken.

‘Selaphiel!’ I shouted. My heart was beating like a meteor shower inside my chest. It took time to recognise the feeling. The last time fear had a hold of me, humans had not yet evolved to exist.

‘Lucifer!’ His weak, distant voice came from below the clouds, and I dived down to pull him up just before he let go of himself completely.

Selaphiel collapsed onto the cloud, panting and dishevelled like he just flew a thousand miles.

He did not have the fire.

Nor did he have an explanation—but in the back of my mind, deep down, I already knew.

‘What have you done..?’ I whispered, unable to move.

Too exhausted to get up or to reason, he only managed three words.

‘I won’t apologise.’

***

When God found out the sacred flame was given to the humans, we were all summoned inside the Heavenly Hall.

Selaphiel wasn’t even shaking. The worst he had gotten was detention, and he had never witnessed justice.

I, on the other hand, thought I was going to faint.

Even though I had  asked him not to say a word.

And I asked him to never admit it. 

I had not told him that I would.

My trembling lie echoed off the white walls, ‘I took the flame.’

As the angels gasped, I gathered all my courage. ‘Mankind needed it—more than us.’ I continued, not meeting Michael’s eyes across the hall, not looking at Selaphiel standing right behind me.

My words were met with silence. Scepticism? I tried my best to convince everyone. I described mankind in all the weird and wonderful ways Selaphiel talked about them. Saying they weren’t so unlike us—and they should get a chance in life. They should get a chance to reach us in the heavens.

No angel interrupted. Not a single one. Finally, I looked up and over the feathered crowd. Staying silent, even in the presence of God, wasn’t natural. And as I looked at Selaphiel, wide-eyed with his mouth open, then to Michael, horrified, but still not saying a word, not calling me a liar… Something was wrong.

‘Do you—you all believe me? You’re fine with this? Do you… agree?’ I asked, with a glimmer of hope igniting.

‘Who would agree with destruction?’ God spoke.

I flinched as he named the exact power only I knew which angel held.

‘Lucifer—You shall not be given a second chance. Michael. Tear off his wings.’

The silence froze.

‘What?’ My head was swimming. ‘Wait–’

To my terror, Michael moved towards me. He could never deny God’s command.

‘Wait, I–’

The words burnt onto my tongue.

It all made sense finally. The fact that neither Michael nor Selaphiel had spoken up.

My protection—the feather I placed over Selaphiel’s heart—worked. 

We could not say or do anything that would cause him harm.

But one of us had to fall.

I walked outside in a daze. The only faces I recognised, standing outside the Heavenly Hall, were the two closest to me.

Selaphiel stood unblinking, squeezing my hand with tears streaming down his face.

‘Don’t look,’ I asked, but he wouldn’t leave the constellation of our unholy trinity. 

Michael pushed him away from me.

‘If there is one thing in the universe–’ He held onto my wings, facing me– ‘One thing I won’t ever forgive you… It’s making me do this.’

I had never heard his voice be so shaky before, I had never seen such a storm of anger and pain in his hazel eyes. Like he was going to go through with it, just like that.

‘I swear I can explain–’ I pushed against his chest as his grip tightened behind my back.

And I—panicked

 ‘Don’t listen to him! You and I and Selaphiel… even if it’s just us we might be stronger! And if we aren’t what’s the worst that can be? Who wants God anyways?!’

Running out of air, I stopped to take a gasp. There was no coming back from what I just said.

‘You won’t do this to me, Michael..?’

His voice was weary as he spoke.

‘Turn away, Selaphiel.’