DESCRIPTION :
Weeks have passed since Michael's disobedience. The books of the Lord in Heaven have been unwritten and it has fallen to the prophets of a new age to forge other tomes. As Jeep and Charlie search for brothers in arms, Gabriel seeks penance from his Father. Who's footsteps better to follow than Michael's, a most beloved brother and son? For the first time since his creation, the archangel takes up orders of his own: To find and protect the new Prophets. But who will he find and how will she change him? How will he change himself?
Follow this (relatively) brief fanfic about one new Prophet and one Archangel to find out.
GABRIEL'S PROPHET:
Chapter 1. "Among the Myrtle Trees"
Arin sighed and unfolded her hands. She opened her eyes, smiling and stretching in the splotchy sunlight. Meditation always had a way of making her feel new. She gathered up the quartz around her and stood, placing them in a blue velvet bag. From the same bag, she removed two bracelets made of smooth soot-colored stones. Hematite. It these troubling times, they helped keep her grounded when her focus alone couldn't.
She clipped one bracelet to each wrist and pulled the drawstring on the bag closed. Pushing open the trunk at the foot of her mattress, Arin placed the bag gently inside and traded it for some pants and a shirt. Her skin warmed the cold fabric of her tank-top and jeans. She bounced up and down in them to loosen herself up, then strode to the windows and locked all the shutters down. At the door, she jammed her feet into a pair of cracked leather boots. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and tied back her hair.
"Ok guys," Arin said, "let's get ready."
The horse and the dog nosing around in the meadow outside looked up at her, at each other, then jogged over. Turning, Arin looped a huge chain through the handle on the door and locked it closed. Beaucephus, a chestnut colored horse with white spotted legs, and an ashen colored shepherd called Atreyu followed her to an open faced shack attached to the one room cabin. Arin quickly brushed the horse free of dirt and set a light weight saddle on his back. She slipped a halter on his nose and looped the lead so that it became a set of reins. "Ok buddy," she scrubbed his forehead, "time to go."
She swung up onto her horse. "Atreyu," she addressed the dog, "look out." She forked her fingers towards her eyes, then pointed into the trees and over the mountains. "If they come, go to the mines." The dog sat down and wagged his tail, staring at her. She knew he understood; she could feel it.
Arin let a ragged breath loose and adjuster her seat. Beau turned and trotted off, leaving the dog and the cabin to the quiet of the woods.
The trip was long. It took till late afternoon to even reach the city limits, and longer still to scout it out. All was quiet, just like last week. Arin felt relief wash through her. Riding through the streets, silent but for the echo of horse hooves, should have been eerie. It wasn't. Wherever the things had gone, it was well out of her path and she was grateful. Finally, Arin came up on a minimart. She eased Beau to a stop and slipped off, taking a set of burlap bags with her. "Stay here," she pointed at her horse. "Ok?"
He nickered deep in his throat and shook himself. "I'm gonna take that as a 'yes'." She eyed him one more time before walking cautiously into the mart. A few minutes in each section, grabbing canned goods and bottled waters, she searched for other things she might need; medical supplies, hunting supplies, maps. Arin was stuffing a new compass into her pocket when the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She froze.
Turning her head, she saw nothing. She heard nothing, so why the sudden anxiety? Snatching a role of fishing line, Arin heaved her bags over her shoulder and headed for the doors. She got there and peered out. There was no one. No one. Not even Beau.
"Damn it," she growled to herself and darted out of the mart. First, she headed North. Wrong, North was too comfortable. Go West. Arin grit her teeth and rounded the corner of the shopping center, headed in the direction her body seemed to most loath going. If there was something she should fear, and her horse was gone, then he'd be where it was.
Carefully, Arin slipped along the alley walls and out into an overgrown drainage ditch. These were all over the city, meant to take excess water from the roads and rivers during the mountain storms that frequented these parts. Trees grew tall along the edges, but brambles and wildgrass reigned supreme here. Adrenalin was pumping through her as she peered out over the lower grasses. Her boots squished in the damp soil. She rolled her fingers over the hematite on her wrists and took a deep breath. There, at the tree line about 1000 yards ahead of her, Beau stood with his head in the shadows.
Fear grabber her hard, icy fingers locking around her ankles and lungs. Hard to breath, hard to move, she headed for him. "Beau," she whispered. "Beau baby." No response but the swish of his tail. "Beau goddamn it," she ground her teeth. "Come here."
Still nothing, and she was almost at his flank. "Beau, what the hell are you doing?" Arin's voice was low and quiet, but harsh as she put a hand on his rear. The horse simply swung his head to look at her, turned his attentions back to the shadows of the trees. She followed his gaze, saw hands on his nose and the distinct line of arms dissipating into the dark.
"Can I help you?" She demanded out loud, blinking to try and better focus into the dimness. Slowly, the hands stopped stroking Beau's nose and fell back. They hung at the sides of a man, Arin could see him now. He was huge, over a full foot taller than her. His arms were chiseled and attached wholly to a set of impossibly broad shoulders. His chest was covered in a single plate of armor, black shirt and pants under leather dressings. His neck was solid, topped by a profound jawline and an oval face crowned with cropped, dark brown hair. A heavy brow and almost glowing blue eyes regarded her. They weren't any kind of blue she'd ever seen before. Ethereal and radiant, yet deep and troubled; they had a kind of light all their own. He was absolutely stunning, and yet, every fiber of her being told her to be afraid.
He offered her no response, only stared at her with those eyes. Tight lipped, she stayed by Beau's backside. Stand strong, she told herself. "I'd like my horse back," Arin said after a moment.
Finally, the man blinked. "I did not mean to keep him," he said, taking a step back and bowing his head just the slightest. There was an aged manner in which he spoke that told to a rigid upbringing. It defied the depth of his tenor and tone, seeming too controlled. That wasn't all that Arin noticed though; his teeth were straight. Not small and sharp, they were normal teeth. So, he was what? The only man left on the planet? Or, at least, the only sane one she'd seen in going on three weeks now. Sanity still debatable, Arin reminded herself.
"Thank you," she said, taking just enough steps forward to reach the reins. "Come on, Beau," she mumbled as she slowly drew him away from the man in the trees. The horse looked at her, exasperation in his features. Arin backed away, ignoring the way her boots stuck deep in the mud and keeping her eyes on the treeline. Beau lifted his legs high, dancing around her to find dryer footing. "Stop that," she whispered at him. Every time he crossed in front of her she lost sight of the blue-eyed man.
"How did you know to find him here?" His voice rumbled in the air when she was about 12 yards out.
Arin paused, the heel of her boot sinking deep. Beau stood at the end of the reins and snorted. "I felt it… him… um, you." Her voice faded to a mumble, having immediately regretted talking.
The man's head tilted. "Felt me?"
"Whatever," she quipped shortly. "It doesn't matter, just stay over there. We're leaving, the cities all yours man."
"Mmm," he made a sound as if in thought, Arin guessed, if thought made sound. Around him, the dark rustled and lifted. Arin's breath hitched in her throat. They were wings, huge black wings.
"What are you?" she gasped.
He took a step toward her, even bigger in the light.
"I said stay there!" She shouted at him and pulled Beau closer to her. He took another step. Shit, Arin's head screamed at her. Shit, shit, shit! She tossed the burlap packs over the saddle and tried to join them. "Fuck!" she shouted, the mud sticking her to the spot. How was her horse walking in this!? She slapped Beau's rear anyway. "Run! Run home Beau!" He jumped away from her in surprise. The blue-eyed man wasn't five feet from her. "BEAU GO HOME!" she screamed, pointing.
The horse turned and heaved himself into a run, kicking up his heels. He got to the top of the opposite side of the ditch and stopped to look back at her. His feet nervously danced underneath him, but he wouldn't leave her. "Arg!" Arin shouted in frustration. "Goddamn it horse!"
"Thou shall not take the Lord's name in vain," a voice sounded from behind her. Arin turned around. He was right there, right on top of her, staring down. His eyes were a mix of anger, agony and righteousness. She shrieked as he leaned down toward her, striking out at him. Arin felt her hand make contact with his skin, but she lost her balance and topped backward into the mud. When she looked up at him, he seemed frozen. His head was turned to the right from the open-palmed slap she'd laid into his cheek, eyes wide. Arin took the opportunity and grappled to her feet. She took off running as quickly as she could manage.
The creature simply stood there though. He didn't pursue, or rage at her. He just stood. There was a tingle rippling across his face in five thin lines. It felt first like tiny lighting strikes, then relegated itself to a slight, steady burn. He was stunned. Never in his existence had he felt this. Not in the turmoil of heaven or hell or in all the wars he'd accompanied man through. Not at the hands of his brothers or his father. Though he had always known it was there, Pain was always at the edges of his grasp. A concept, rather than a reality. Like so many things; hate, anger, joy… even love… to him, pain was just the sense of emptiness. Until now.
He'd crossed the threshold between knowing and having, theory and experience. He felt it. He felt pain, and his skin held onto it like a memory.
Looking up, he wondered why. Why now, father? He asked. Since his creation he had begged to feel, truly feel something. Anything. He had always been told it was not his place, so why now? Why her? The answer came to him like a secret wrapped in layers. With the fate of man undone by Michael, was he now free too? Was he finally, truly, alive?
He blinked and came back to himself. The girl was gone, as was her horse atop the hill. Taking a deep breath, he beat his wings and lifted off the ground. He was only airborne for seconds when he saw her; bent low over her horse's neck, hair tangling in his mane as he ran. Fists clenched, he shot toward them, landing in the grass like a comet.
Dirt flew like little warheads, causing Beau to skid to a halt and Arin to rocket to the ground beside him. When the thin layer of brown mist and clods settled, the blue-eyed man was standing before her, Beau's reins in hand.
"S-stay away from me," Arin ordered, eyes widening. He wasn't human; he had to be one of those things.
"I wish you no harm," he voice rolled like lazy thunder, gaze falling over her like a storm. Was that worry in his eyes? Beau sidled around next to him, unsure if he should reflect his persons fear, or revel in the man presence.
"Yeah right," Arin shouted, reaching for a can of beans that had been dislodged with her. "I swear to God, I'll kill you if you come near me!"
He smiled a little, thoughts suddenly elsewhere, before he focused on her again. Was that amusement? She couldn't tell, but when he lifted a foot to advance on her, she hurled the can at him. It pinged off his forehead and he didn't so much as flinch.
Interesting, he scowled at the painlessness, and bent toward her. He stretched a hand out to help her up. She batted it away and the feel of her skin on his, however brief, was incredible. Pausing, he brought his hand back to himself and ran his fingers along the skin she'd slapped. The sensation in his cheek had already faded, but it had felt something like the current.
"Don't be afraid," his said as delicately as he could. Trying again, more slowly this time, he knelt. His wings rustled at his back as he gently extended his hand to her, this time more out of human tradition and intent to aid. It was clear she wouldn't take his help anyway.
Arin cringed, but stayed still otherwise. "What do you want?" she practically spit at him. A wave of something washed through his features, though muted and subdued. Not like human emotion, but to Arin, she sensed that it was frustratingly close.
"My name is Gabriel," he said, hand still outstretched. "How is it that you come to feel angels?"
-GP- Mudwine-
So by now I hope you've guessed that Arin and her animal buddies are the main O.C.'s, if any. Please post any comments, questions and correction; after all, a writer is only as good as her worst critic.