Lucifer: The story behind the angel

Chapter 17

May 21, 1950

Gabriel's POV

"The dogs of Heaven will be released." One of the fledglings beside me called out. I was supposed to be watching them, helping them fly and whatnot, but I'm letting them mess around with each other and pretend to be in a fake war. They were throwing stones and jumping on each other, and I was watching them through the safety of my wings. I was the eldest one here, and I wasn't going to lie. I was frightened of them. When I said "letting them", I meant breeding the storm. The ritual is getting more complicated, the new angels created are starting to grow much like human children, starting off as babies and growing to adulthood. These particular Malakhs were five to seven years of age. Their downy covered wings were just starting to grow steel colored contour feathers. Sadly, their owners wouldn't allow them flight time.
"Arrrgh!!!!" A little one beside me yells as he struggles to run towards another with a large sword. I catch him just in time and take the sword from him.
"Act your age!" I scold him. He sticks his tongue out and crosses his eyes at me.
"You act your age!" He blurts back to me.
"Just whack them upside the head.
They seem to respond to that fairly well." Michael's voice notes behind me. I ease up some.
"Micheal please help me." I whisper shout to him.
He laughs. "No. I quite like watching you act like the single mum you've always been. Finally in tune with yourself." I latch on to two fledglings that I was sure were trying to kill each other. I hold them separate and look back up at Michael.
"For the love of Father. Help me." I was desperate now. He chuckles and then whistles loudly, directing the fledglings attention to him. "ALL OF YOU! GET IN A LINE AND SHUT UP!" It was a side of Michael I had seen before, the persona he took on after Father gave him the rank of commander of our armies. Unfortunately, the kids hadn't. They immediately stopped chattering and cowered into a neat line. They now knew me as the softie and him as the strict one. The medals on Michael's uniform glimmered in the sun as he walked closer to the line of kids.
"Now you all have one job to do." He pointed to me. "Listen to him. It's not hard." I nod slowly at them from behind him. They didn't see me, because they were still staring at Michael. Who was pacing slowly back and forth with his hands behind his back. "I have business to attend to, so I cannot stay and babysit you all. If I come back here, and you all don't all know how to fly by that time, you will regret it." With that he turns and marches away, trying not to laugh. The kids remained in the line, awaiting my command. I didn't want to yell at them.
"Uh, yeah. What he said. Now pay attention." I unfurl my wings slowly, and feel the wind push against them. I hear the consistent "oooh" of the kids. "You all have to do this. Before flight, your wings have to catch air. They are proportionate to your body, or will be once you've matured. The kids mimicked what I did exactly. And a few of them were hoisted up in the air by the wind. I pointed to them.
"You see how they curved their wings inward? That's how you do it." They all look up at the two others, and mock them. Monkey see, monkey do. I thought to myself. That's the first time I actually realized what that meant. Hm.
About half an hour later they had all mastered hovering. Except one. His name was Sariel, and he was having trouble keeping his wings balanced on both sides when he spreads them out.
"This is useless. I can't do it. My wings aren't strong enough." I kneel down to him, to get eye-level.
  "Why would you say that Sariel? Of course your wings are strong, or they wouldn't have so many contour feathers already." I say, trying to boost his confidence.
  "I can't Gabriel. I've tried." I start to say something else to him, but I hear the jangle of Michael's medals behind us.
  "What's wrong?" He questions at one or both of us. I couldn't tell. It wasn't angry or accusatory, but more curious- sounding. One of the other fledglings, Zophiel, answers him.
   "Sariel is scared to fly, Sir." I noticed the way he automatically called him sir. I wish I had that kind of authority. Unfortunately I'm not mean, and I'm definitely not commanding. While my Father has said several times that he created all of his angels with that ability to be intimidating, I've just never been able to pull it off.
  "I don't think he's afraid. I think he's just...." I trail off at the end. I couldn't think of a word. "Nervous." Michael finishes for me. Sariel and I both nod. Michael takes both his wings in his hands and spreads them out gently.
   "Nice. They are big enough." He mutters, mostly to himself. He takes Sariel's wrist and leads him to the side of the firmament, where a deep drop off was. The fledglings and I follow.I finally realized what he was about to do.
  "Micheal, maybe it's a bit much. It's his first time." I say, in a near whisper. He merely ignores me, and looks over the side, probably calculating the distance between us and the earth. Sariel caught on to what he planned on also.
  "Please no Michael! I'll do anything!" He struggles against his grasp, but even as Michael is distracted with counting, he holds on to him firmly. I watch warily, keeping the other fledglings contained. Who were by the way, freaking out one at a time.
  "Is he gonna do that to all of us? "Should we run?" "I think I'm going to be sick." I hushed all of them, trying not to break Michael's concentration, because it could mean the difference between life and death for Sariel.

Completed in chapter 18.