The Order

Gabriel and Michael

Gabriel

Fate. Destiny. Kismet. It has been given many names throughout time. It matters not if you believe in it–it is and always will be. Everyone has their own trials to suffer to bring them closer to the destiny that was envisioned since the beginning of creation.

However, free will and man's unwillingness to accept their purpose often thwarted even Heaven's best-laid plans. The cost would always be great, and was often paid with lives. The Fallen had also refused to accept their purpose and suffered greatly for this. Some more than others.

Looking down at the city below me, I took in the people below. I didn't have to know their story to know that each and everyone of them is or had needlessly suffered. Some through no fault of their own, others who had no one to blame but themselves for the choices they made. Most ignored the signs given to them to stay on the right path. Most veered off to what they thought was the path of least resistance, which only made their lives harder. Then they would blame God or whatever entity they believed in. If they believed in nothing, they would blame those close to them.

Sure there were people who accepted their own mistakes and tried to make things right, but they were few and far between. Still, knowing this...I couldn't turn my back on them. I was still a member of The Order and helped where I was told to. Never more and never less than I was supposed to. I learned from my brothers and sisters–The Fallen, who went against orders.

But, I suppose that everything happens for a reason and if some didn't fall, we wouldn't have The Order in the first place. And it, after all, was established to help protect Humanity from evil and other paranormal entities that threaten life.

The Fallen, human hunters and other beings made up the organization. They worked undetected–on a need to know basis.

Of course, I kept that thought to myself. I always would. It would be a grave mistake to voice those inner thoughts–to voice that I felt The Fallen on Earth were right because it put them where they needed to be.

I shook my head, turning to focus on the red blinking light of the Space Needle. I didn't want to be here right now. More times than not, when Michael wanted to meet it was for me to deliver bad news. I'm the messenger of God–and those messages are always dire. And if he didn't want to converse in Heaven, it meant that it was important that what he told me stayed between us.

The flapping sound of wings had me turning.

"Brother." Michael nodded.

"Michael. What was so important that we had to talk here?" I asked, gesturing to the monstrosity we were standing on.

"I've been instructed to make a few things known."

"And what bad news will I be delivering and to whom?" I asked, controlling the urge to roll my eyes.

Michael's mouth corked up on one side. He knew I was tired of it, just like he knew that I would deliver whatever he told me.

"Careful, Gabriel. One of these days I might think that you will refuse to do your part because you're tired of it."

"You know that won't happen. I won't risk being grounded."

"You do love being able to go between Heaven and Earth. You may not be physically grounded. But, you will be needed on Earth more than you ever had in the past."

I swallowed hard. If I was needed on Earth more, it meant that the reason for meeting was worse than I could have predicted.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news..."

"You are nothing if not predictable. Let's hear it..." I shook my head.

Michael turned towards the lights of Seattle before scanning the dots of pedestrians walking out of bars and restaurants–all unaware of our presence. Silence stretched between us for a few minutes before he spoke again.