“Do they see that these eyes have seen the passing of millennia? Do they have any idea who lives in their midst, who watches over them in the darkness, and who reads stories to their children?”
Micah shook his head and disturbed his reflection by scooping water out of the stream to splash across his face.
Then he stood up and looked around carefully, reaching out with all his senses. Everything about him slowed and he took it all in. The fish in the stream, insects and birds in the air, the children bustling about the house. No one was near. No one could see.
Micah reached out his right hand toward the clothes, gestured, and whispered a word, fiero, then gripped the open air in a fist and twisted his hand slightly. A runic symbol appeared on his forearm as his eyes went from their normal slate gray to a brilliant green for a moment then the clothes were consumed in a burst of fire.
Micah then opened his arms, more runes running down their length, his eyes glowing once more and a mist gathering around his naked form, coalescing into gleaming mail that armored him from head to toe. Finally, he slowly passed his hand downward along his body and the mail seemed to morph into normal homespun clothing.
The whole process took perhaps a minute. It had the easy, instinctual, grace of a task that had been performed hundreds of times. Micah sighed softly and walked back towards the sound of children laughing.
When he arrived plates and cups had been set on the outside table along with some bread, fruit, and cheese the children had found in his pantry. They all sat around the table and were regarding a man who sat with them, his back to Micah.
Micah tensed and felt an unseen sword form across his back cloaked by the same illusion that hid his armor from view.
The children did not seem alarmed and Shannon waved to him. “Father Micah! Come quickly, your friend is here and he says he wants to hear stories too.”
The man stood slowly, still with his back to Micah. He was so tall. Micah was very tall himself and this man was a full head taller still. He radiated strength and power. Micah glanced at the smiling children and his blood ran cold.
With a slow blink, Micah reached inward and found the raging river of power that coursed throughout him like molten emeralds. In that split second of frozen time, he wrapped his arms around the power and channeled it to his purpose. In his mind’s eye he saw unseen shields snap into place around each child and prepared to reach for the pulsing sword on his back, dropping the glamour that hid his armor.
He knew he would have to leave this place afterward, but it had ever been so.
“Peace be with you, Micah Ben Judah,” the man said turning.
Micah froze. He found he couldn’t breathe properly. This must be a trick. He drew further on the power within him and it fought for release, but now the man was facing him.
“Peace be with you,” he said again.
Micah stared at the man, releasing the torrent of power and letting it wink out.
The man cocked his head expectantly.
Micah’s mouth felt dry and his pulse raced. “Peace be with you, Raphael.”
Raphael took several long strides to close the gap between them and embraced Micah, adjusting the hidden armor and sword slightly with a knowing smile.
Liam ran up from the table. “Raphael says you and he are old friends, Father Micah! How old of friends are you? Have you known him older than me? I’m eight.”
When Micah said nothing, Raphael smiled and mussed the boy’s hair a bit. “Yes, Liam, we’ve known each other even older than you.”
Liam grinned and Shannon shouted, “Stories, Father Micah!”
“Yes, Father Micah,” Raphael said with a smile in his voice. I have heard wonderful things about these stories of yours. I look forward to hearing one.”
For his part, Micah had recovered enough to respond. “Children, it has been a very long time since I have seen my friend, Raphael. Perhaps we could have story time another day.”
There was a chorus of disagreement from the children and Raphael sat down at the table smiling, while gesturing for Micah to take the larger seat at its head. “Fear not, children. Never let it be said that I stand in the way of a good story. Micah, please, indulge the children and yourself in this simple pleasure.” His smile faded a bit and he added, “Remember, we are only given today and such things should not be put off to a day that may never come.”
Micah stared at him a moment and took his seat, relaxing a bit. A day that may never come, he thought to himself then asked.
“Raphael, is it time? Really time?”
“For stories!” Donal shouted.
Raphael smiled at Micah, locking him in his gaze and said, “Yes,” A heartbeat later he turned toward Donal and added, “- for stories,” but Raphael’s message to Micah had been clear.
Micah glanced upward as if in silent prayer as a subtle smile played across his face. “Well, now, what story will it be then? Dragons? Demons? Fairies or Goblins?”
The children all looked stunned. “You mean we get to pick?” asked Shannon.
“We never get to pick. You always pick,” said Liam.
“Well, today is special. Today, you get to pick.”
There was quite a commotion as the children discussed which story they should choose, but when they could not agree, Raphael tapped the table quietly and said, “I have an idea, if you are all willing. I know a very old story that Micah can tell. If you trust me, I can promise it will be the best story you have ever heard.”
There was a moment of silence as his words sunk in, then Donal and Liam and started yelling, “Yes! Yes! Yes! The best story ever, Father Micah. Tell us the best story ever!”
Shannon just looked at her brothers and shrugged.
“Seems it is settled then,” said Raphael, smiling.
“And which, pray tell, is the best story ever?” Micah asked.
“You know.”
“Indulge me with the obvious answer.”
Raphael inclined his head slightly. “Of course,” he said to Micah. Then, lowering his voice conspiratorially, he looked over each child in turn and said, “The best story ever is the one where God asked His Angel to find Him a Sentinel”
The children had all been leaning in as Raphael spoke and, when he finished, silence hung in the air for a heartbeat.
“What’s a Sentinel?” asked Liam.
“That doesn’t sound like the best story ever,” said Donal.
“I think we should have a story about Fairies,” said Shannon - just to annoy Donal and Liam.
“Wait...wait...you have to trust me,” said Raphael, “I promised you that this would be the best story ever. I always keep my promises and I never lie.”
The children looked dubious.
“Never?” asked Donal, “You’ve never lied, even once?”
“Never,” said Raphael, “Honestly, I am not capable of it.”
“It’s true,” Micah interjected before Donal continued. “I can vouch for Raphael in this regard. If he says something, it’s the truth, or...” Micah paused while looking at the Angel, “at least he believes it to be the truth.”
“But, be that as it may, I don’t think I can tell this story very well. I’m not even sure how it ends.”
Raphael reached out and placed his hand on Micah’s arm. “We will tell it together, my old friend, for I do know how it ends...and it is a wonderful ending.”
“Well, I certainly do enjoy stories with wonderful endings,” said Micah, smiling again, “But since you will be telling part of the story, I assume you have been properly introduced to our audience, yes?”
Raphael displayed mock chagrin. “Alas, Micah, the children have not introduced themselves so, in fact, I know absolutely nothing about my audience.”
“Children - is this true? Were you so rude as to not greet our guest properly?”
Donal and Liam both looked down and began fidgeting.
“Father Micah, stop doing that,” said Shannon.
“Sto
p what? Ensuring that I instill some manners during your visits with me?”
Shannon stood up and put her hands on her hips, trying her best to affect the stance of her mother. “No, stop pretending that you are cross with us. There has been no time for introductions, as you well know. Your friend only arrived moments ago and did so with no warning whatsoever.” She then tilted her head and glared at both men with a fierce expression that was completely ruined when a breeze caught one of her fiery tresses and blew it across her face. She peered out through the curls for a moment, then brushed them aside in frustration and sat down looking sullen. “Stupid wind.”
Liam and Donal gave each other a look which clearly conveyed their sense of “there she goes again,” as they did their best to turn invisible.
“Quite right and my apologies, Miss McLeod. It was completely inappropriate for me to embarrass you like that in front of Raphael. I hope you can forgive me.”
Shannon stared at him for a long moment, holding his gaze and trying to determine if she was being mocked. Finally, she said, “It’s alright Father Micah, I know you were just making fun and truth be told, there might have been enough time for introductions.” She added a moment later, “barely,’ then flashed a mischievous smile.
She stood up again and deliberately walked over to Raphael with hand extended. “Hello, sir. I am Shannon McLeod and these are my two brothers, Donal and Liam. My father is the miller here in Glenferry and my mom, well, Mom passed away six years ago. Maybe you knew her. Father Micah knew her. That’s why he came for her funeral. Remember, Father Micah, you said you’d promised to keep a watch over us so you ended up just staying here. Did you know her, Margaret McLeod?”
Raphael shook his head sadly, “No, Shannon, I am afraid I never had the joy of meeting your mother, but I do recall Micah talking about her, and the three of you.”
“Skin Walkers got her,” Donal said, and Liam covered his face with his hands - trying to hide.
“Donal! Be quiet, you are scaring Liam.”
“I will not be quiet, Shan. He needs to know. She saved all of us. Papa says so. Without her we would all be in the ground. She’s a hero and Liam needs to know it.”
Shannon sank down beside Liam and put her arm around him, whispering into his ear. He lifted his face, but still looked frightened.
“Mother is a hero. I’m just afraid they will come back.”
“Don’t worry, Liam. If they come back, I can handle them. Papa says I’m already almost as good with Mother’s bow as she was, and better with her throwing knives.”
Micah had been watching the exchange, grinding his teeth silently. “Children, you have nothing to fear from them. Trust me, they will never be coming back. Not ever. I promise you that.”
Raphael stood up and walked over to the three children, extending his hand first to Donal and then to Liam. “You are all very brave and strong and it is my sincere pleasure to have been introduced. As you already know, I am Raphael and Micah is one of my oldest and dearest friends. While nothing can replace the loss of a mother, if Micah says that the creatures who perpetrated this evil met justice and will never return, you can trust that as if an Angel came down and told you that himself.”
All three nodded at this and Raphael flashed a smile, doing his best to lighten their spirits. “I believe now that we have those formal introductions out of the way, there is a story to be had, is that right?”
His efforts were rewarded with grins around the table as everyone settled back down and stared at Micah expectantly.
With that, Micah sighed, took a long drink from his cup, and began to weave together the tale of his life...
Raphael laughed suddenly and slapped the table with a loud thud.
“Really, Micah, I do not think you remember this quite right. Maybe you fell asleep during this part of the tale’s original telling.”
Micah’s brow furrowed a bit. “No, I think I have it right. The Angel appeared to the young man, Tholem, who was to become this great Sentinel when he was away from home breaking horses to help provide for his family.”
“...and,” interrupted Raphael, “this Angel simply walked up to Tholem and said, ‘Behold, I am an Angel of the Lord. Do you want to be His Sentinel?’ How well do you think this young horse trainer would have reacted to that? These things require planning...finesse. Allow me to elaborate.”
“Now, children, once this Angel went to carry out God’s command-” began Raphael.
“Which Angel?” asked Shannon.
“I bet it was Michael,” said Liam.
“No, it was not Michael,” said Raphael. “Michael would not be good for this sort of thing. He is much more of a, Here is a job for you; do it or I will cut you in half, kind of Angel.”
“How do you know?” asked Shannon.
Raphael opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it.
“Well?” pressed Shannon.
Raphael turned to look at Micah, who pretended not to see the earnest stare. Finally, Micah said, “Raphael reads a lot and has studied all about Angels.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” said Liam
“Yes, so then it must have been Gabriel,” said Donal, “He’s probably the best Angel anyway. Was it Gabriel? Did he have his horn with him?”
“It wasn’t Gabriel either, “ said Micah. “The storyteller never mentioned the Angel’s name. Some Angels don’t even have names. It could be because they don’t need them or maybe they were just too busy to take a name. Angels are evidently very busy; they disappear for centuries without a word and do not come when asked. Maybe that’s because they don’t all have names. What do you think, Raphael? Since this Angel wasn’t Michael, the strongest and bravest, nor was he Gabriel, who, I think we all agree, is the best Angel, who was he? Do you think he had a name? Who was this not strongest, not bravest, and not best, Angel?”
Micah smirked at Raphael, who simply stared at him with a flat expression.
“The Angel doesn’t matter in this story. That is why he doesn’t have a name. I’m sure he is quite remarkable in his own right, but this story is about the Sentinel - not the Angel.”
“What is important,” Raphael continued, “is how he chose Tholem and how Tholem agreed to take up the power and responsibility of being God’s Sentinel. Remember, Tholem would not be alone in his role. As you already heard, the fallen Angel Asmodeus had also gone into the world as well. Time works differently for Angels, but I can tell you that he spent what would have been many years looking for someone he thought would be perfect for the task. He talked to kings and paupers. He met with the strong and the weak, the brilliant and the average.
“In the end the Angel settled on Tholem, the horse trainer. He was a good and honest man, but most importantly he had an indomitable spirit. In him, the Angel saw someone who would stand the test of time, never give up, always be true, and never give in to pride.”
“So, he made the perfect choice,” said Shannon.
“No, he made the right choice. There is a difference and you will see that as the story unfolds. It seems that no one, not even Angels, can make the perfect choice.”
“But you get ahead of me. So, the Angel spent many weeks with Tholem in various guises. One day it was a shopkeeper and another day a fellow traveler on the road. You can never be sure that the stranger you meet is not an Angel. Keep that in mind, children.” Raphael said, smiling.
“In the end, there really was not much drama in how the Angel made his offer nor in how Tholem chose to accept. The young horse trainer was on his way home from a neighboring village where he had been breaking horses. The hour was late and it was mid fall so the night was cold. Tholem should have camped many hours earlier, but wanted to get home to his family, to see that they were well, and show them how much he had earned by training the horses. It was a little past midnight with a clear sky and full moon overhead when Tholem spied a small cook fire built a bit off the road he was traveling. He had been walking for hours and was quite cold
and hungry, so he decided to see who was tending the fire and if he could share it.”
“As I am sure you have already figured out, it was the Angel who made this camp and tended the fire. When Tholem introduced himself, the Angel welcomed him warmly and offered him food, drink, and the warmth of the fire. But there was a price.”
“He had to become the Sentinel to get the food, right?” asked Liam.
“No, I do not think you were listening as carefully as you should have been at the beginning. The Angel could not compel Tholem to take up this burden; he had to do so of his own accord. The price was simply that Tholem listen to a story and answer a question. Well, things then were much as they are now. People love stories and Tholem was no exception. He readily agreed to the price, thinking himself twice lucky for getting both food and story.
“As Tholem ate, the Angel recounted the story of Lucifer’s war on heaven. He told the young man of the betrayal and how it felt to those who remained loyal. He shared the loss endured by Angels as they warred brother against brother. He wept openly as he described the loss of life and Lucifer’s final fall from grace. Then he shared the story of their final meeting - God and Satan, and of the agreement struck that day. By this time, Tholem had long since given up on finishing his meal, so struck was he by the story and the intensity with which it was told. The two sat in silence for a long time and finally Tholem reached out and touched the Angel’s hand, asking him how he could possibly have crafted a tale of such sorrow and detail. Well, as we all know, Angels do not lie. So, in response the Angel simply said, ‘I could craft such a tale, because I was there.’ With those words, the Angel let vanish the disguise that cloaked his true nature. In that moment, Tholem saw all those who he had so recently met: the shopkeeper, beggar, and traveler. Finally all that remained was the Angel.
“What did he look like?” asked Shannon.
“Beautiful,” answered Micah. “He was the most beautiful thing that...Tholem had ever seen. He was tall. Taller than me and, at first, he looked like a man, but his eyes were a brilliant green as if cut from emeralds with a candle behind each giving them light. Then he spoke, and his voice was deep and strong, like if the wind could speak.”
Sentinels of Creation: A Power Renewed Page 3
