Chapter 2 – April 2025
Unfurling my wings, I flew after the demon, faster than an eagle, swifter than a hurricane.
“Demon!” I thundered. “Get ye back to the fiery pits of Hell from whence ye came!”
“Dude!” she laughed, tossing her mane of scarlet hair and flashing her obsidian eyes, “you sound like such a stereotype. Learn to move with the times, angel.”
My wings of silver flames spread wider, trying to intimidate her, but Lamia just smiled at me.
“Don’t you get tired of doing this? No, seriously, haven’t you got anything better to do than stalk me? Can’t you go and save some kittens or virgins or something?”
“Stopping you, demon, is my work and my reward!” I roared, my wings lashing the air furiously, driving her from the crowd of humans.
She couldn’t fight the divine wind my wings created, and I sent her spinning and tumbling away from the town and deep into the uninhabited forest.
Only when we were far from humans did I furl my wings, allowing the hurricane to abate until only a gentle breeze remained. Lamia sat up, brushing leaves and twigs from her hair.
“Whatever,” she sighed, staring at her blood-red talons. “But you know it’s a waste of time, right? Since He gave humans free will, they’ll always be drawn to the darkness. They can’t help themselves. You’re pointless, useless and,” she leered at me, “impotent.”
“You’re wrong, Lamia,” I stated, full of certainty and the absolute truth of my words.
She smiled, a hint of fang transforming her face from charming to chilling.
“Nuriel, my old friend, don’t you get bored being so smug?”
I inclined my head toward her.
“We are not friends, demon.”
“What would you call it?” she asked, her beautiful face gleaming with unholy curiosity. “We talk, we hang out, I even brought you a coffee once, although you couldn’t drink it, of course. The whole ‘incorporeal’ thing must be a real drag.”
I gave due consideration to her question although the demon deserved no such courtesy. I pondered. But if God had created a word that described the discourse between myself and this creature of the damned, I had yet to learn it.
We walked through the forest in silence as I considered how to reply. My wings gleamed with silvery fire that chased away the dense shadows. Small creatures rustled in the undergrowth as they were drawn towards me, but then turned away, repelled by the demon’s darkness. Snake-like shadows slithered behind her and the grass withered beneath her feet.
“Smugness is the quality of having an excessive pride in oneself or one’s achievements,” I replied calmly. “I speak only of the glory of God and His perfect understanding.”
She rolled her eyes, a curiously immature reaction from a demon almost as old as time.
“Wow, you’re even more boring than I thought,” she yawned rudely. “So, I’m gonna cut to the chase. Humans are worth no more than the vermin hiding in the dark. They’re weak, flawed and frail. Sure, they talk a good talk – eco-this, green-that – but have they looked after Earth? Do they really do anything to deserve it? Their cars get bigger, their airplanes fly further, as far as First Heaven,” she smiled at me with a sly expression. “Humans are ultimately destructive, weak, base and not worth saving. Why do you even care what happens to them?”
I shook my head, my thoughts wreathed in sorrow.
“You’re wrong, Lamia. Humanity, people, they are God’s best-beloved creation, and they are basically good and, given the chance,” here, I cast her an admonishing look, “given the chance, they will always choose right. They sometimes need a moment to remind themselves of this and to close the door on their baser thoughts.”
“You admit that they have them then,” she crowed in triumph.
“It’s free will,” I reminded her gently. “Our Father believes in giving people choices.”
“Would you bet your life on it?” she asked.
“I am eternal,” I said, shrugging my wings. “I am immortal.”
A single, silvery feather dropped to the ground, and cool water sprang forth, a bubbling, gurgling stream weaving its way through the darkened forest.
“It’s a challenge, Nuriel. Or are you too scared to put your money where your mouth is?” she cajoled.
“I know not fear and have not money,” I said simply.
She plucked a flower from the riverbank and watched as sit crumbled to dust in her hand.
“If God’s creation is so damn perfect, why do I exist? Why do good things happen to bad people? Why does the devil have all the best lines? Better to reign in Hell than to serve in Heaven.”
Her eyes glowed with demonic intensity.
“God moves in mysterious ways.”
“That’s the ultimate cop-out!” she snorted. “It’s because you know that God made a mistake when he created humans with all their nasty, base desires. So then, He had to create a rule book to explain what He expected from them…”
“The Bible is…”
But she interrupted me.
“Even with a damn handbook, they still seek me out, me and my kind.”
“It’s a test…” I began.
“It’s an excuse, that’s what it is. Oh, sure, yeah, the whole God-is-testing-us myth. Well, let me tell you, my friend, you are myth-taken. God got it wrong because He made humans in His own image, didn’t he? Jealous, vengeful, unfair, vindictive.”
“No! You are wrong.”
“He says so himself! For I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me. Really? You think it’s fair that kids have to pay for mistake their parents make? What’s fair about that? And for four generations! Talk about vindictive. But I’ll tell you something else – humans like it. In fact, they prefer it that way. They prefer being spiteful and jealous, because it comes naturally to them.”
“You’re wrong. I am as certain of it as night follows day.”
“So, you say. Let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth,” she taunted me. “I bet that I could persuade more humans that I’m right than you ever could.”
Sorrow filled my heart as I saw the spite writ large upon the demon’s fair face. And in that moment, she became ugly to me: a mean and piteous thing, crawling on her belly like a worm, for that was her true self.
“No, Lamia. Our Father would never allow that to happen.”
“You’re missing the point: I’m right and you’re wrong.”
Then she laughed in my face, her breath heated and smelling faintly of sulfur as she slid into the darkness.
The discourse puzzled me greatly, so I sought consolation with my Lord God.
As I ascended to First Heaven, the light was so bright, I had to shield my eyes and the silver fire of my wings was as a single ray of light before the rising sun.
Our all-knowing Father was waiting for me.
“Walk with me, Nuriel.”
“I am troubled, Lord,” I began.
“I know.”
“It’s that damned Lamia,” I said sorrowfully.
God laughed, and I saw pleasure pouring from Him, the ripples making their way to Earth far below. In the Pacific oceans, a pod of dolphins began to play, leaping from the crystal waves, water flying from their fins like diamonds. In a remote village in China, a newborn baby found her first smile. And in an Amazonian jungle, a jaguar gave milk to her cubs. And so it went, happiness spilling out across the whole planet.
“Nuriel, you know I see everything, know everything, hear everything, feel everything. I taste your anger and it saddens me.”
“Forgive me, Father, I was just trying to…”
“I know what you were trying to do.”
“My apologies. Of course you do,” I stammered.
“Humans have free will. That is a fundamental principle since I created Adam.”
“I know, but…”
My Lord was still talking and I fell silent.
“You do not make decisions for them. Ever.”
“I didn’t. I…”
“Do you have Faith, Nuriel? Deep down Faith? Do you feel it with every beat of your wings, in your whole being?”
“Of course, my Lord!” I said, shocked that he would question me that way.
“And pride, Nuriel?”
“My Lord?”
“You looked at Lamia and felt pride in who and what you are; you looked down on her for who and what she is, and yet I ask you, did I not create you both?”
“Yes, my Lord! I mean, that is…”
I floundered, knowing not how to answer Him.
“You think you know better than I?”
“No, Lord! Never! I don’t, I wouldn’t…” I fumbled for the words but found nothing. “Forgive me, Lord.”
“You are forgiven. But I want you to learn from this, Nuriel. Therefore, I am gifting you the opportunity to better understand my beautiful creation. I have decided … for one human year, I shall send you to Earth and you shall live out your life as a human.”
I felt my spirit fracture, a deep chasm running through the heart of me.
“Father, no! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be prideful – I was standing up for you!”
“Do I need you to stand up for me, Nuriel? Is it not prideful to think that way?”
I was struck dumb and filled with fear.
“You’re banishing me, Lord?”
His sigh whispered around the world, like the cooing of doves.
“I’m encouraging you to learn. You could start with humility.”
“But, Lord…!”
“You have much to learn, Nuriel. Humans can teach you many things.”
“But I’m an angel! What can I learn from them? They’re flawed: illogical, irrational and…”
“Humility, Nuriel. You can learn about that. Take the gift I’m giving you.”
“I’ll do better, Lord! I’ll be better!”
“Yes, I believe you shall, Nuriel. Well now, the teenage years are those of the greatest change and the greatest learning, so I shall send you to Earth to live out one human year as a boy on the verge of manhood. You will eat bread and drink water … and go to high school.”
“You’re sending me to high school?! Father, I beg you! Not that! You may as well send me to Hell!”
“I do believe I’ve heard that said before – once or twice,” he smiled at me, blessing me with a sign of his eternal love. “Have a good trip.”
“My Lord…!
But it was too late.
As I heard the echo of his gentle laughter, I was already falling…