Guidance from Michael (2/3)
Title: Guidance from Michael
Series: Notes Tied to Balloons
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Castiel and Michael
Genre: Family
Summary: As a fledgling, Castiel had a very big, very interesting family. Each story will stand on its own and will consist of three chapters. Eighth story's up: Everyone is meant for something, the challenge is to discover whether the purpose is good... or otherwise.
Click here for the other siblings: Balthazar, Joshua, Anna(el), Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael, Zachariah
<~ Previous chapter
AN: Senior year at college sucks. That is all.
I'll be there someday, I can go the distance
I will find my way, if I can be strong,
I'll know every mile, will be worth my while,
When I go the distance I'll be right where I belong.
.
I Can Go the Distance ~ Michael Bolton
They penetrated the veil that separated Heaven and Earth, moving as seamlessly as a dream filling a human’s subconscious. Michael touched down on a patch of dry grass near a stonewall that encircled a village. Castiel landed beside him a second later, though he made sure that the distance between them was far enough so that he would not brush against the archangel’s glorious wings.
Michael scanned the area to check for any ‘open positions’ that his brother could take. “Tell me, Castiel, what do you think of human rituals?” he inquired after a moment.
The sudden question rendered Castiel momentarily flustered before he managed to compose himself. “As long as the rituals praise our Father, then I think they are good.” he replied.
A faint smile made its way across Michael’s face. That was actually a decent answer; the fledgling might have a chance in this trial. “Care to see if your calling lies there?” he asked.
All Castiel did was stare widely at him, and Michael assumed that he was ready to undertake it. Michael turned and phased through the stonewall to enter the village. The inhabitants remained unaware of his presence as they went on with their mundane tasks of doing the laundry and carrying supplies from one point to another. When Michael glanced backward, he noticed that Castiel had not moved from his spot.
“Come along, brother. You must not dally.” said Michael firmly. Castiel tensed and immediately trailed after him.
Michael knew that this was one of the more religious places on Earth - and by religious, he referred to it as a site where people worshiped God, and not the other deities who claimed to be as such. This should be a safe location for a fledgling to explore and learn without being corrupted in the process.
The only problem he noted was a small group of men huddled in an alley close to the church. From what he could gather listening to their grumbled conversations, as well as quickly reading their individual backgrounds, these men were complaining about the taxes imposed on them by the local priests. They were basically miserable, and albeit they had no quarrel with the church, they did, however, harbor bitter feelings toward the priests. Michael purposely led Castiel away from them and even used his wings to block them from his brother’s sight.
They approached the church and glided effortlessly through the side wall. Upon reaching the other side, Michael realized that they were inside the secluded chamber of the church, where the priests would perform their more drastic ceremonies and rituals without the public watching. At the moment, there were five priests in the chamber, and each was doing his own part to carry out the ritual.
“These are the priests of this land. It is their responsibility to be the link between the mortal men and the Heavenly Host… or at least they try to be.” said Michael as the priest who was holding a basin tripped and spilled a bit of the water.
Castiel tore his gaze away from a priest methodically chopping up a bundle of herbs. “I don’t understand.” he replied, staring at Michael.
“They teach the people the law and will of God, but oftentimes they are either misled by their own intentions or cannot grasp the precise meaning of something.” explained Michael.
In the very corner of the room, he saw a considerably large amount of coins that seemed quite too much, even if they were to serve the church. He extended his vision a little more and noticed specks of dried tears on a number of coins, tears made in grief and desperate anger. As his eyes continued to wander, he became aware of the smidgens of dirt on the coins as well. It was not the typical kind of dirt that usually found its way to the humans’ possessions; this dirt implied that there had been struggle, as if someone forcefully tried to keep something from being stolen. These must be the taxes.
“The priests are a few of our human conduits, although sadly they, too, are vulnerable to walk the path of a lost sheep.” said Michael.
“So we help them?” asked Castiel.
“We guide them.” Michael corrected. “We push them toward the right direction, and we keep them on the right path. If the priests impart false knowledge upon the people, then hundreds of men and women will be besmirching God’s name.” He looked down at his brother. “You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
If it were possible, Castiel’s eyes widened even more. “No, sir!” he squeaked, downright terrified.
“In that case, are you willing to take up this job?” inquired Michael.
Castiel glanced at the priests and then back at Michael, his expression serious. “What am I to do?” he asked.
“How about something simple first?” said Michael.
They surreptitiously moved closer to the priests until they were mere inches away from them, though Michael allowed Castiel be much nearer for a better observation. Currently, the priests were kneeling on the floor and letting a continual stream of chants flow out of their lips. The candles had been lit and the chamber was beginning to overflow with the smell of incense and mixed herbs.
“What are they doing?” Michael questioned Castiel.
The fledgling’s head tilted to side, as if the information he was getting was a little heavy for his mind to contain. “Praying?” he ventured.
“Yes, or to be more exact, asking for a sign. Unlike our faith, the faith of humans is not as resolute. They can hold on tightly, yet they can also slip or waver.” clarified Michael. He did his best not to think about it, but he failed and his thoughts went to the cause of why the humans were delicately prone to sin. It was all because of a single angel who Fell many, many, many eons ago…
Michael snapped out of his reverie when a priest tapped on a brass bell. It was never good to dwell on the past, especially that segment of the past. Right now, he had another brother to worry about; Castiel needed to have a title so he could attain an official role in creation and learn his place in Heaven.
“Show them a sign that someone is listening to their prayers.” said Michael, his tone encouraging. If Castiel performed a good job in this, he could be deemed as the Angel of Holy Rituals or something along those lines. He had the temperament for it, as well as the interest.
There was a ring of sigils painted on the floor and the priests were in it. For a fully-grown angel, the sigils were harmless; for a fledgling, it would be like being impaled by a dozen spikes. To succeed in this task, Castiel had to exert enough power to overcome the effects of the ring.
Castiel nervously stepped forward without breaching the barrier of symbols and analyzed the chamber, possibly searching for a medium he could use. His eyes stopped roaming the moment he came across the bowls of herbs at the foot of the tiny altar. He appeared to concentrate on telekinetically stirring the contents, yet the sole thing he achieved was to turn over a handful of leaves, an act that went unnoticed by the priests.
“More effort, Castiel.” Michael told him.
This time, Castiel’s sight found the arc of candles at the edge of the ring. He concentrated harder on manipulating them, but just one candle ended up affected, and all it did was flicker briefly toward the opposite direction.
“Again.” ordered Michael.
In the third attempt, Michael was not even sure what Castiel was focusing on. However, the mere fact that he, an archangel, was unable to find any sort of change was worse.
“You must capture their attention. Do something more obvious.” said Michael, and the commanding tenor of a general was beginning to reveal itself.
Castiel shrank back at that because, as a soldier-in-training, there was no mistaking that voice; comprehending it was as instinctive as the gift of flight. He became more desperate now and his gaze settled on the basin filled with holy water at the top of a pedestal. His Grace stretched out as far as it could to endeavor to control the water, and his wings flapped a couple of times behind him as if to offer an extra push.
A minute passed and Michael thought that nothing would happen. Then, the water started swishing erratically, and the movements were actually strong enough to rock the basin a little bit. Nonetheless, the noise it was creating was drowned out by the priests’ chanting, plus the fact that their voices were echoing loudly across the chamber. Castiel did not appear to be disheartened and instead kept directing his strength to the water.
Suddenly, the water leapt up and hit the priests in a miniature blast. The impact was not severe, but the pure shock of what occurred gave the priests a justifiable reason to scream out of the chamber as if they accidentally unleashed the wrath of God. The sound of their wild terror reverberated across the walls for several minutes.
“I believe I made it too obvious.” muttered Castiel.
Michael said nothing and tried to remain calm. His brother had just frightened away a handful of priests - mortal deliverers of the Word of God - and may possibly have convinced them that they were being punished or rejected. This could greatly affect the entire mindset of the people, with the priests making them believe in their hysteria and instilling unwanted perceptions in them.
He went out of the church to see if the priests had already started in dealing out any repercussions; Castiel followed him. Thankfully, the village was still peaceful, although Michael was concerned that he could not sense any of the five priests nearby.
What got his attention, however, was the group of men moping by the sidelines… or at least they had been moping a while ago. Now, they were laughing so hard that there was a real possibility that they might topple over each other. Apparently, they had seen the priests fleeing and approved of the spectacle. One of the men stated that he had not laughed this hard in years. Michael, meanwhile, was peeved that they were taking their religion too lightly.
“Let’s find a different place.” he said to Castiel. Michael set off to the west and a perplexed fledgling stumbled after him.
O_x
The two angels appeared near a small riverbed that had been the life source of a once thriving citadel not made by human hands. By now, it was reduced to rubble, although the leftover supernatural energy from centuries ago still shone like a lit piece of coal in a pit.
Their travel had been so fast that Castiel barely managed to keep up with Michael, let alone register where they were. He curiously looked around their surroundings to try to figure out their location, yet no matter how much effort he was putting into concealing his thoughts, Michael had no trouble reading the uneasiness his brother had.
“You wish to know where we are,” stated Michael, knowing full well that it was a fact instead of letting the words come out as a query.
Castiel’s wings twitched protectively around him and his gaze went straight to the ground. “Yes, sir.” he mumbled.
The shame of failure from his mishap at the church dragged heavily at his Grace which, for Michael, was readily apparent. “There’s nothing wrong if you want to speak first. You don’t have to wait for me to ask you something or for me to give you permission.” he said.
At that, Castiel stared up at Michael as if he was being given a second chance, as well as forgiveness, since he was not being scolded or punished. He then stole a glance at their environment and asked, “Wh-Where are we?”
Michael extended the wings on his right side and gestured for them to go inside the remains of the citadel. “We are in an area that will someday be known as Nazca, located in the south-western hemisphere of the Earth that will be named South America. For now, this is called The Aoh.” said Michael.
While it was true that his power was not centered on seeing the future, he did have a somewhat limited access to it. The whole details of what was to come remained murky to him, but there were bits that he could decipher, and he thought it was an advantage to inform the other angels of what was imminent so as to be better prepared for it; every piece of information was precious.
Castiel dutifully stayed close to Michael, albeit the way his eyes went over every crumbled rock, every broken glyph, and every faded mural hinted that he was fascinated and wanted to explore the citadel. Unfortunately, they were not here to explore.
“This used to be the melting pot of a Fae tribe and a branch of the Atlantean civilization, but its inhabitants had long since moved on.” explained Michael.
It was hard to believe it now, but there were still traces of their reality etched upon the buildings. The stones had been enchanted to be colored blue and green so that everything would appear lush; the structures had been specially designed to accommodate creatures of both water and air; and a domed edifice, previously a laboratory, had been devoted to and responsible for creating the flying fish. Presently, the continued existence of the flying fish was all that was left of them.
“Why?” asked Castiel, sounding completely crestfallen.
“War broke out.” said Michael flatly as he stared ahead. He chose not to add the fact that it was the angels that had driven them out of the citadel in the first place. The alliance of the species had brought about a level of progress so intensely sophisticated that they were beginning to challenge the rule of God.
“Do you think you’re able to hide this?” asked Michael. They were out of the ruins now and the sun was baking the land like bread.
Shock illuminated Castiel’s eyes. “But, sir… the culture… the history…” he said.
“The world does not need to know this, not for an incredibly long time.” said Michael.
Some things - constructed out of Atlantean technology and Fae magic - in the citadel were too advanced to be handled, especially by mortals. Castiel seemed to appreciate history, or at least value the advancement made by other beings. However, there were already angels designated to those roles and no two angels should have the same title. For here, Castiel will prove whether or not he can take on the burden of being the Angel of Concealment, which would tackle, not just hiding things physically, but also from memory.
With obedience and sad acceptance seeping into him, Castiel put his concerns aside. “How am I to hide this?” he inquired.
“That decision falls to you.” said Michael.
Castiel held the ruins in his gaze for a long time, as if apologizing or saying goodbye. Finally, he flew over to where the grass gave way to sand and started creating a sandstorm. As the grains of sand violently swirled and a wind pushed them toward the direction of The Aoh, Michael noticed that the manner in which the storm carried itself was sloppy - it would be effective in burying the citadel, but it lacked the elegant force a true storm needed to possess. Thankfully, Castiel was not here to become the Angel of Storms.
When the sandstorm had gotten enough momentum to operate on its own, Michael pulled a very flustered Castiel to his side, a good distance away from the citadel.
“Stand back and let nature do its work.” he said.
They did so and, for a second, Michael thought that this would be a success. However, that was not to be the case.
“Lizard!” Castiel cried out. And all of a sudden, Castiel slipped out of Michael’s hold and zoomed toward the sandstorm. After a few minutes, it became clear that Castiel was manipulating the path of the sandstorm; its formerly smooth descent turned into haphazard jerks and wide sweeps.
“Castiel! What are you doing? Get back here!” Michael ordered.
He expected the fledgling to come back instantaneously, but he was fairly stunned when Castiel kept directing the sandstorm to random directions. Michael waited a while longer, although his brother remained in the distance as if… as if he was ignoring him, disobeying a command straight from an archangel. This had never happened before. No one ever dared to disobey him; it was as debauched as committing a sin with his standards.
No one defied him… except for one, and his fate had been far from pleasant.
Michael took off, grabbed Castiel and landed on the top of a rocky mountain. Without Castiel controlling the sandstorm below, it collapsed and a huge amount of sand rained down on The Aoh, burying it under multiple layers of sand.
“What was that about?” demanded Michael. His eyes blazed with genuine fire for a fleeting moment.
“I was trying to save the lizard.” whimpered Castiel, absolutely terrified of him now but striving, with every bit of his Grace, to stand his ground and explain himself.
Michael’s anger ebbed and was replaced by puzzlement.
“It was pregnant.” Castiel reasoned out in a pathetic voice. He bent his head down and looked away in an effort to hide the fact that he was going to cry.
Michael calmed himself down and considered his brother with empathy. So he had spotted a lizard and wanted to rescue it from the sandstorm. It was a noble deed, Michael supposed; nonetheless, Castiel performed an act of reckless insubordination.
“You can’t just interfere like that.” said Michael, using a soothing tone. After all, he wanted to guide him, not demean him. “One lizard’s life isn’t significant enough to drastically change the path of a storm.” he stated.
“Four, sir.” whispered Castiel.
“What?”
“There were four lives. Not just one.” he meekly clarified.
If not for the fact that he was an angel, Michael would have rolled his eyes or sighed like a human who was doing everything in their ability to tolerate someone they cared about. Since Castiel confirmed that he was unfit for this job, Michael wished to depart as soon as possible. But when he checked on his brother, he found out that his wings were trembling with fatigue after tugging and shoving that sandstorm in virtually every direction conceivable.
“You have until sundown to recuperate.” said Michael sternly.
Castiel peered up at him and probably wanted to say his gratitude, yet stopped himself when Michael turned away from him. To be honest, Michael was still - for lack of a better word - upset. One of his brothers had disobeyed him and he needed all the time he could acquire to calm down and seek wisdom from their Father.
As the hours passed, Michael watched the landscape below for any detrimental side-effects from Castiel’s sandstorm. In his attempt to ‘save the lizard,’ a large, extremely conspicuous spiral was on the ground, and it was sure to catch someone’s attention.
Right on cue, a couple of humans - part of the same assortment of wanderers that seemed to be so plentiful on the planet lately - appeared on the horizon. They were tired from their journey, and so opted to rest behind one of the rock formations in the area. Michael extended his sight further and noticed that a few mosquitoes were flying near the humans’ camp. The mosquitoes happened to be carrying a disease that would potentially be fatal for the humans who were not accustomed to this sort of land.
Then, a pregnant lizard emerged from behind a stone and began to eat the mosquitoes one by one using its tongue. Michael stared at the sight in disbelief.
As if the situation could not escalate any further, a child broke off from the group to explore and discovered Castiel’s spiral. The child called at the rest of the humans and they all gathered around the spiral to ponder over it.
Michael reckoned it was time for him and Castiel to leave before he witnessed anything else.
O_x
For their third destination, they landed in the middle of the busy center of a northern city, where the structures were made out of marble and the roads were mixed with smatterings of quartz. The air was filled with the scent of fresh olives and the sound of bells tinkling at the front of the nearby homes.
A group of children, none of them over a decade-old, raced each other and obliviously ran through the two angels. Three boys knocked over a pear stand. The owner of the stand shouted at them, but the children fled before they could be disciplined, snickering along the way. For their sake, Michael hoped their rowdy attitude would improve in the future. He checked up on Castiel and saw that he was staring at the place where the children were last seen; plus, he had on that look that suggested that he was thinking very hard about something.
“The children fascinate you.” observed Michael.
Feeling caught, Castiel transferred his gaze to a stray pear on the ground that the owner had failed to pick up. “Balthazar said that, if I were human, my age would be equivalent to theirs.” he said.
Michael found that notion to be rather… odd. It was silly to compare angels to humans. “Do you believe that?” he asked, humoring him.
Seconds passed as Castiel seemed to regard it carefully. “I don’t know, sir.” he replied.
If Michael was certain of anything about this particular brother, it was that Castiel was one strange fledgling who saw wonder and peculiarities in the most random of things. “It appears that the children are going to school.” he said, steering them to a new topic. “Would you like to see your first human class?” he asked him.
Like a hot spark falling and igniting a wick, Castiel’s eyes widened and shone brighter in wordless excitement. They followed the path the children took and soon came across the sight of twenty-one children sitting under the shade of a tree. In front of them was an elderly man armed with a few scrolls and books.
The three boys who knocked over the pear stand were present and situated at the back. While the man did his lecture - the topic being the first deeds of the earliest humans - the three boys paid no attention to him and used everything they could get their hands on to entertain themselves. They threw pebbles at the other children and pinned the blame on someone else whenever their victim got too annoyed. One boy stole a coin from a chubby girl’s pocket; another put a beetle on the back of a sickly boy; the other tied the belts of two children together. Michael watched on in mild disappointment.
“Sir, they are being taught incorrect accounts.” said Castiel, referring to the elderly man’s teachings. Clearly, he was more focused on that instead of the damage the three hooligans were causing. Michael wondered if Castiel even knew about them or simply chose not to interfere.
“And you wish to remedy the situation?” inquired Michael. Essentially, the teacher really was rambling on and on about a wrong piece of information, and it was quite sensitive on their part since it touched on the theme of Creation.
Castiel seemed to realize that or, at the very least, picked up on something he learned when the two of them were at the church. “I don’t want them to be misled.” he said earnestly.
A twitch of a smile graced Michael’s mouth. “I’ll give you an hour with them. Educate them as you see fit.” he said.
The shock on Castiel’s face was as evident as a fissure on an icy surface. It was a heavy task to handle for someone as young as him, but he needed to grow and take risks; besides, Michael trusted that he would not mess up too much within an hour. He flew to Heaven and sought a brief time of peace and solitude in his chambers.
When he returned, the noise of bickering and muttering children were gone. Instead, all of the children, especially the three boys at the back, were eerily quiet. Upon closer inspection, Michael saw that their eyes were as big as silver dishes and their mouths hung open in half-formed screams. Meanwhile, the teacher was sitting dumbly against the tree, as if trying to comprehend what happened. There were traces of angelic influence on his mind, so Michael assumed that Castiel bestowed a fraction of Revelation onto him which, even at a small amount, can be seriously overwhelming to humans.
It then dawned on Michael that the children were actually traumatized by what they were ‘taught,’ and the teacher was suffering from some degree of that as well. He noticed a bunch of scrolls with fresh ink on them and scanned their contents. What he read there was the entire history of what happened after the Seven Days, when the purity of Man had faded; every detail was written on the scroll, from the most insignificant to the most… unsettling.
“I might have overestimated the mental capacity of human children.” said Castiel guiltily from behind the tree.
“This is too much information, Castiel.” said Michael with forced patience.
“But, sir, they have a right to know.” said Castiel.
“Not about this.”
“It’s is a part of who they are - “
“That’s enough.” Michael cut in. He did not raise his tone, yet it was more frightening when he lowered his voice to a grave level of quiet. It was like the first hushed rumble of the earth just before it emitted a roar powerful enough to shatter the sky, just before the ground opened up to swallow a chain of mountains and gobbled the oceans.
Castiel fell over immediately and struggled to get himself into the lowest kneel he could achieve. “Forgive me, sir.” he whimpered.
Michael hated it when he had to strike fear into his siblings to try to have them understand why certain matters had to be the way they were. There was a fragile sense of balance to uphold, and for Castiel’s case, that meant keeping some details away from the humans. No one needed to know what Cain truly did to Abel, or the other methods of sacrifice Eve’s children performed, or the massacre when a number of them attempted to reclaim Eden, or how there had almost been a second war in Heaven. Those things were best kept secret from humans.
At least the children were behaving now. Whatever the teacher had to say (once he recovered), they would be listening to the lesson attentively.
With a thought, Michael erased what was on the scrolls and pulled Castiel up. “It’s time we head off to another location.” he said.
TBC
So basically Cas started the Nazca lines, and the wandering people thought it was a nifty idea to keep drawing more stuff (don’t judge my crazy thoughts XD). Cas' spiral ended up being the tail of this
Fae = Fairy. I thought it would be a cool connection since some people theorized that the Nazca lines were “runways for extraterrestrial beings” A.K.A. aliens, and the aliens we had on the show were fairies. There you go.
The Atlantean part… well, one of the other Nazca lines is an orca, so to have a sea creature in the middle of a desert is a little “fishy” don’t you think? ;)
And I think it’s safe to say that I’m having way too much fun fiddling with history. Please don’t bash me for any historical inaccuracies; every weird detail here is just for the story ^^
Series: Notes Tied to Balloons
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Castiel and Michael
Genre: Family
Summary: As a fledgling, Castiel had a very big, very interesting family. Each story will stand on its own and will consist of three chapters. Eighth story's up: Everyone is meant for something, the challenge is to discover whether the purpose is good... or otherwise.
Click here for the other siblings: Balthazar, Joshua, Anna(el), Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael, Zachariah
<~ Previous chapter
AN: Senior year at college sucks. That is all.
I'll be there someday, I can go the distance
I will find my way, if I can be strong,
I'll know every mile, will be worth my while,
When I go the distance I'll be right where I belong.
.
I Can Go the Distance ~ Michael Bolton
They penetrated the veil that separated Heaven and Earth, moving as seamlessly as a dream filling a human’s subconscious. Michael touched down on a patch of dry grass near a stonewall that encircled a village. Castiel landed beside him a second later, though he made sure that the distance between them was far enough so that he would not brush against the archangel’s glorious wings.
Michael scanned the area to check for any ‘open positions’ that his brother could take. “Tell me, Castiel, what do you think of human rituals?” he inquired after a moment.
The sudden question rendered Castiel momentarily flustered before he managed to compose himself. “As long as the rituals praise our Father, then I think they are good.” he replied.
A faint smile made its way across Michael’s face. That was actually a decent answer; the fledgling might have a chance in this trial. “Care to see if your calling lies there?” he asked.
All Castiel did was stare widely at him, and Michael assumed that he was ready to undertake it. Michael turned and phased through the stonewall to enter the village. The inhabitants remained unaware of his presence as they went on with their mundane tasks of doing the laundry and carrying supplies from one point to another. When Michael glanced backward, he noticed that Castiel had not moved from his spot.
“Come along, brother. You must not dally.” said Michael firmly. Castiel tensed and immediately trailed after him.
Michael knew that this was one of the more religious places on Earth - and by religious, he referred to it as a site where people worshiped God, and not the other deities who claimed to be as such. This should be a safe location for a fledgling to explore and learn without being corrupted in the process.
The only problem he noted was a small group of men huddled in an alley close to the church. From what he could gather listening to their grumbled conversations, as well as quickly reading their individual backgrounds, these men were complaining about the taxes imposed on them by the local priests. They were basically miserable, and albeit they had no quarrel with the church, they did, however, harbor bitter feelings toward the priests. Michael purposely led Castiel away from them and even used his wings to block them from his brother’s sight.
They approached the church and glided effortlessly through the side wall. Upon reaching the other side, Michael realized that they were inside the secluded chamber of the church, where the priests would perform their more drastic ceremonies and rituals without the public watching. At the moment, there were five priests in the chamber, and each was doing his own part to carry out the ritual.
“These are the priests of this land. It is their responsibility to be the link between the mortal men and the Heavenly Host… or at least they try to be.” said Michael as the priest who was holding a basin tripped and spilled a bit of the water.
Castiel tore his gaze away from a priest methodically chopping up a bundle of herbs. “I don’t understand.” he replied, staring at Michael.
“They teach the people the law and will of God, but oftentimes they are either misled by their own intentions or cannot grasp the precise meaning of something.” explained Michael.
In the very corner of the room, he saw a considerably large amount of coins that seemed quite too much, even if they were to serve the church. He extended his vision a little more and noticed specks of dried tears on a number of coins, tears made in grief and desperate anger. As his eyes continued to wander, he became aware of the smidgens of dirt on the coins as well. It was not the typical kind of dirt that usually found its way to the humans’ possessions; this dirt implied that there had been struggle, as if someone forcefully tried to keep something from being stolen. These must be the taxes.
“The priests are a few of our human conduits, although sadly they, too, are vulnerable to walk the path of a lost sheep.” said Michael.
“So we help them?” asked Castiel.
“We guide them.” Michael corrected. “We push them toward the right direction, and we keep them on the right path. If the priests impart false knowledge upon the people, then hundreds of men and women will be besmirching God’s name.” He looked down at his brother. “You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
If it were possible, Castiel’s eyes widened even more. “No, sir!” he squeaked, downright terrified.
“In that case, are you willing to take up this job?” inquired Michael.
Castiel glanced at the priests and then back at Michael, his expression serious. “What am I to do?” he asked.
“How about something simple first?” said Michael.
They surreptitiously moved closer to the priests until they were mere inches away from them, though Michael allowed Castiel be much nearer for a better observation. Currently, the priests were kneeling on the floor and letting a continual stream of chants flow out of their lips. The candles had been lit and the chamber was beginning to overflow with the smell of incense and mixed herbs.
“What are they doing?” Michael questioned Castiel.
The fledgling’s head tilted to side, as if the information he was getting was a little heavy for his mind to contain. “Praying?” he ventured.
“Yes, or to be more exact, asking for a sign. Unlike our faith, the faith of humans is not as resolute. They can hold on tightly, yet they can also slip or waver.” clarified Michael. He did his best not to think about it, but he failed and his thoughts went to the cause of why the humans were delicately prone to sin. It was all because of a single angel who Fell many, many, many eons ago…
Michael snapped out of his reverie when a priest tapped on a brass bell. It was never good to dwell on the past, especially that segment of the past. Right now, he had another brother to worry about; Castiel needed to have a title so he could attain an official role in creation and learn his place in Heaven.
“Show them a sign that someone is listening to their prayers.” said Michael, his tone encouraging. If Castiel performed a good job in this, he could be deemed as the Angel of Holy Rituals or something along those lines. He had the temperament for it, as well as the interest.
There was a ring of sigils painted on the floor and the priests were in it. For a fully-grown angel, the sigils were harmless; for a fledgling, it would be like being impaled by a dozen spikes. To succeed in this task, Castiel had to exert enough power to overcome the effects of the ring.
Castiel nervously stepped forward without breaching the barrier of symbols and analyzed the chamber, possibly searching for a medium he could use. His eyes stopped roaming the moment he came across the bowls of herbs at the foot of the tiny altar. He appeared to concentrate on telekinetically stirring the contents, yet the sole thing he achieved was to turn over a handful of leaves, an act that went unnoticed by the priests.
“More effort, Castiel.” Michael told him.
This time, Castiel’s sight found the arc of candles at the edge of the ring. He concentrated harder on manipulating them, but just one candle ended up affected, and all it did was flicker briefly toward the opposite direction.
“Again.” ordered Michael.
In the third attempt, Michael was not even sure what Castiel was focusing on. However, the mere fact that he, an archangel, was unable to find any sort of change was worse.
“You must capture their attention. Do something more obvious.” said Michael, and the commanding tenor of a general was beginning to reveal itself.
Castiel shrank back at that because, as a soldier-in-training, there was no mistaking that voice; comprehending it was as instinctive as the gift of flight. He became more desperate now and his gaze settled on the basin filled with holy water at the top of a pedestal. His Grace stretched out as far as it could to endeavor to control the water, and his wings flapped a couple of times behind him as if to offer an extra push.
A minute passed and Michael thought that nothing would happen. Then, the water started swishing erratically, and the movements were actually strong enough to rock the basin a little bit. Nonetheless, the noise it was creating was drowned out by the priests’ chanting, plus the fact that their voices were echoing loudly across the chamber. Castiel did not appear to be disheartened and instead kept directing his strength to the water.
Suddenly, the water leapt up and hit the priests in a miniature blast. The impact was not severe, but the pure shock of what occurred gave the priests a justifiable reason to scream out of the chamber as if they accidentally unleashed the wrath of God. The sound of their wild terror reverberated across the walls for several minutes.
“I believe I made it too obvious.” muttered Castiel.
Michael said nothing and tried to remain calm. His brother had just frightened away a handful of priests - mortal deliverers of the Word of God - and may possibly have convinced them that they were being punished or rejected. This could greatly affect the entire mindset of the people, with the priests making them believe in their hysteria and instilling unwanted perceptions in them.
He went out of the church to see if the priests had already started in dealing out any repercussions; Castiel followed him. Thankfully, the village was still peaceful, although Michael was concerned that he could not sense any of the five priests nearby.
What got his attention, however, was the group of men moping by the sidelines… or at least they had been moping a while ago. Now, they were laughing so hard that there was a real possibility that they might topple over each other. Apparently, they had seen the priests fleeing and approved of the spectacle. One of the men stated that he had not laughed this hard in years. Michael, meanwhile, was peeved that they were taking their religion too lightly.
“Let’s find a different place.” he said to Castiel. Michael set off to the west and a perplexed fledgling stumbled after him.
O_x
The two angels appeared near a small riverbed that had been the life source of a once thriving citadel not made by human hands. By now, it was reduced to rubble, although the leftover supernatural energy from centuries ago still shone like a lit piece of coal in a pit.
Their travel had been so fast that Castiel barely managed to keep up with Michael, let alone register where they were. He curiously looked around their surroundings to try to figure out their location, yet no matter how much effort he was putting into concealing his thoughts, Michael had no trouble reading the uneasiness his brother had.
“You wish to know where we are,” stated Michael, knowing full well that it was a fact instead of letting the words come out as a query.
Castiel’s wings twitched protectively around him and his gaze went straight to the ground. “Yes, sir.” he mumbled.
The shame of failure from his mishap at the church dragged heavily at his Grace which, for Michael, was readily apparent. “There’s nothing wrong if you want to speak first. You don’t have to wait for me to ask you something or for me to give you permission.” he said.
At that, Castiel stared up at Michael as if he was being given a second chance, as well as forgiveness, since he was not being scolded or punished. He then stole a glance at their environment and asked, “Wh-Where are we?”
Michael extended the wings on his right side and gestured for them to go inside the remains of the citadel. “We are in an area that will someday be known as Nazca, located in the south-western hemisphere of the Earth that will be named South America. For now, this is called The Aoh.” said Michael.
While it was true that his power was not centered on seeing the future, he did have a somewhat limited access to it. The whole details of what was to come remained murky to him, but there were bits that he could decipher, and he thought it was an advantage to inform the other angels of what was imminent so as to be better prepared for it; every piece of information was precious.
Castiel dutifully stayed close to Michael, albeit the way his eyes went over every crumbled rock, every broken glyph, and every faded mural hinted that he was fascinated and wanted to explore the citadel. Unfortunately, they were not here to explore.
“This used to be the melting pot of a Fae tribe and a branch of the Atlantean civilization, but its inhabitants had long since moved on.” explained Michael.
It was hard to believe it now, but there were still traces of their reality etched upon the buildings. The stones had been enchanted to be colored blue and green so that everything would appear lush; the structures had been specially designed to accommodate creatures of both water and air; and a domed edifice, previously a laboratory, had been devoted to and responsible for creating the flying fish. Presently, the continued existence of the flying fish was all that was left of them.
“Why?” asked Castiel, sounding completely crestfallen.
“War broke out.” said Michael flatly as he stared ahead. He chose not to add the fact that it was the angels that had driven them out of the citadel in the first place. The alliance of the species had brought about a level of progress so intensely sophisticated that they were beginning to challenge the rule of God.
“Do you think you’re able to hide this?” asked Michael. They were out of the ruins now and the sun was baking the land like bread.
Shock illuminated Castiel’s eyes. “But, sir… the culture… the history…” he said.
“The world does not need to know this, not for an incredibly long time.” said Michael.
Some things - constructed out of Atlantean technology and Fae magic - in the citadel were too advanced to be handled, especially by mortals. Castiel seemed to appreciate history, or at least value the advancement made by other beings. However, there were already angels designated to those roles and no two angels should have the same title. For here, Castiel will prove whether or not he can take on the burden of being the Angel of Concealment, which would tackle, not just hiding things physically, but also from memory.
With obedience and sad acceptance seeping into him, Castiel put his concerns aside. “How am I to hide this?” he inquired.
“That decision falls to you.” said Michael.
Castiel held the ruins in his gaze for a long time, as if apologizing or saying goodbye. Finally, he flew over to where the grass gave way to sand and started creating a sandstorm. As the grains of sand violently swirled and a wind pushed them toward the direction of The Aoh, Michael noticed that the manner in which the storm carried itself was sloppy - it would be effective in burying the citadel, but it lacked the elegant force a true storm needed to possess. Thankfully, Castiel was not here to become the Angel of Storms.
When the sandstorm had gotten enough momentum to operate on its own, Michael pulled a very flustered Castiel to his side, a good distance away from the citadel.
“Stand back and let nature do its work.” he said.
They did so and, for a second, Michael thought that this would be a success. However, that was not to be the case.
“Lizard!” Castiel cried out. And all of a sudden, Castiel slipped out of Michael’s hold and zoomed toward the sandstorm. After a few minutes, it became clear that Castiel was manipulating the path of the sandstorm; its formerly smooth descent turned into haphazard jerks and wide sweeps.
“Castiel! What are you doing? Get back here!” Michael ordered.
He expected the fledgling to come back instantaneously, but he was fairly stunned when Castiel kept directing the sandstorm to random directions. Michael waited a while longer, although his brother remained in the distance as if… as if he was ignoring him, disobeying a command straight from an archangel. This had never happened before. No one ever dared to disobey him; it was as debauched as committing a sin with his standards.
No one defied him… except for one, and his fate had been far from pleasant.
Michael took off, grabbed Castiel and landed on the top of a rocky mountain. Without Castiel controlling the sandstorm below, it collapsed and a huge amount of sand rained down on The Aoh, burying it under multiple layers of sand.
“What was that about?” demanded Michael. His eyes blazed with genuine fire for a fleeting moment.
“I was trying to save the lizard.” whimpered Castiel, absolutely terrified of him now but striving, with every bit of his Grace, to stand his ground and explain himself.
Michael’s anger ebbed and was replaced by puzzlement.
“It was pregnant.” Castiel reasoned out in a pathetic voice. He bent his head down and looked away in an effort to hide the fact that he was going to cry.
Michael calmed himself down and considered his brother with empathy. So he had spotted a lizard and wanted to rescue it from the sandstorm. It was a noble deed, Michael supposed; nonetheless, Castiel performed an act of reckless insubordination.
“You can’t just interfere like that.” said Michael, using a soothing tone. After all, he wanted to guide him, not demean him. “One lizard’s life isn’t significant enough to drastically change the path of a storm.” he stated.
“Four, sir.” whispered Castiel.
“What?”
“There were four lives. Not just one.” he meekly clarified.
If not for the fact that he was an angel, Michael would have rolled his eyes or sighed like a human who was doing everything in their ability to tolerate someone they cared about. Since Castiel confirmed that he was unfit for this job, Michael wished to depart as soon as possible. But when he checked on his brother, he found out that his wings were trembling with fatigue after tugging and shoving that sandstorm in virtually every direction conceivable.
“You have until sundown to recuperate.” said Michael sternly.
Castiel peered up at him and probably wanted to say his gratitude, yet stopped himself when Michael turned away from him. To be honest, Michael was still - for lack of a better word - upset. One of his brothers had disobeyed him and he needed all the time he could acquire to calm down and seek wisdom from their Father.
As the hours passed, Michael watched the landscape below for any detrimental side-effects from Castiel’s sandstorm. In his attempt to ‘save the lizard,’ a large, extremely conspicuous spiral was on the ground, and it was sure to catch someone’s attention.
Right on cue, a couple of humans - part of the same assortment of wanderers that seemed to be so plentiful on the planet lately - appeared on the horizon. They were tired from their journey, and so opted to rest behind one of the rock formations in the area. Michael extended his sight further and noticed that a few mosquitoes were flying near the humans’ camp. The mosquitoes happened to be carrying a disease that would potentially be fatal for the humans who were not accustomed to this sort of land.
Then, a pregnant lizard emerged from behind a stone and began to eat the mosquitoes one by one using its tongue. Michael stared at the sight in disbelief.
As if the situation could not escalate any further, a child broke off from the group to explore and discovered Castiel’s spiral. The child called at the rest of the humans and they all gathered around the spiral to ponder over it.
Michael reckoned it was time for him and Castiel to leave before he witnessed anything else.
O_x
For their third destination, they landed in the middle of the busy center of a northern city, where the structures were made out of marble and the roads were mixed with smatterings of quartz. The air was filled with the scent of fresh olives and the sound of bells tinkling at the front of the nearby homes.
A group of children, none of them over a decade-old, raced each other and obliviously ran through the two angels. Three boys knocked over a pear stand. The owner of the stand shouted at them, but the children fled before they could be disciplined, snickering along the way. For their sake, Michael hoped their rowdy attitude would improve in the future. He checked up on Castiel and saw that he was staring at the place where the children were last seen; plus, he had on that look that suggested that he was thinking very hard about something.
“The children fascinate you.” observed Michael.
Feeling caught, Castiel transferred his gaze to a stray pear on the ground that the owner had failed to pick up. “Balthazar said that, if I were human, my age would be equivalent to theirs.” he said.
Michael found that notion to be rather… odd. It was silly to compare angels to humans. “Do you believe that?” he asked, humoring him.
Seconds passed as Castiel seemed to regard it carefully. “I don’t know, sir.” he replied.
If Michael was certain of anything about this particular brother, it was that Castiel was one strange fledgling who saw wonder and peculiarities in the most random of things. “It appears that the children are going to school.” he said, steering them to a new topic. “Would you like to see your first human class?” he asked him.
Like a hot spark falling and igniting a wick, Castiel’s eyes widened and shone brighter in wordless excitement. They followed the path the children took and soon came across the sight of twenty-one children sitting under the shade of a tree. In front of them was an elderly man armed with a few scrolls and books.
The three boys who knocked over the pear stand were present and situated at the back. While the man did his lecture - the topic being the first deeds of the earliest humans - the three boys paid no attention to him and used everything they could get their hands on to entertain themselves. They threw pebbles at the other children and pinned the blame on someone else whenever their victim got too annoyed. One boy stole a coin from a chubby girl’s pocket; another put a beetle on the back of a sickly boy; the other tied the belts of two children together. Michael watched on in mild disappointment.
“Sir, they are being taught incorrect accounts.” said Castiel, referring to the elderly man’s teachings. Clearly, he was more focused on that instead of the damage the three hooligans were causing. Michael wondered if Castiel even knew about them or simply chose not to interfere.
“And you wish to remedy the situation?” inquired Michael. Essentially, the teacher really was rambling on and on about a wrong piece of information, and it was quite sensitive on their part since it touched on the theme of Creation.
Castiel seemed to realize that or, at the very least, picked up on something he learned when the two of them were at the church. “I don’t want them to be misled.” he said earnestly.
A twitch of a smile graced Michael’s mouth. “I’ll give you an hour with them. Educate them as you see fit.” he said.
The shock on Castiel’s face was as evident as a fissure on an icy surface. It was a heavy task to handle for someone as young as him, but he needed to grow and take risks; besides, Michael trusted that he would not mess up too much within an hour. He flew to Heaven and sought a brief time of peace and solitude in his chambers.
When he returned, the noise of bickering and muttering children were gone. Instead, all of the children, especially the three boys at the back, were eerily quiet. Upon closer inspection, Michael saw that their eyes were as big as silver dishes and their mouths hung open in half-formed screams. Meanwhile, the teacher was sitting dumbly against the tree, as if trying to comprehend what happened. There were traces of angelic influence on his mind, so Michael assumed that Castiel bestowed a fraction of Revelation onto him which, even at a small amount, can be seriously overwhelming to humans.
It then dawned on Michael that the children were actually traumatized by what they were ‘taught,’ and the teacher was suffering from some degree of that as well. He noticed a bunch of scrolls with fresh ink on them and scanned their contents. What he read there was the entire history of what happened after the Seven Days, when the purity of Man had faded; every detail was written on the scroll, from the most insignificant to the most… unsettling.
“I might have overestimated the mental capacity of human children.” said Castiel guiltily from behind the tree.
“This is too much information, Castiel.” said Michael with forced patience.
“But, sir, they have a right to know.” said Castiel.
“Not about this.”
“It’s is a part of who they are - “
“That’s enough.” Michael cut in. He did not raise his tone, yet it was more frightening when he lowered his voice to a grave level of quiet. It was like the first hushed rumble of the earth just before it emitted a roar powerful enough to shatter the sky, just before the ground opened up to swallow a chain of mountains and gobbled the oceans.
Castiel fell over immediately and struggled to get himself into the lowest kneel he could achieve. “Forgive me, sir.” he whimpered.
Michael hated it when he had to strike fear into his siblings to try to have them understand why certain matters had to be the way they were. There was a fragile sense of balance to uphold, and for Castiel’s case, that meant keeping some details away from the humans. No one needed to know what Cain truly did to Abel, or the other methods of sacrifice Eve’s children performed, or the massacre when a number of them attempted to reclaim Eden, or how there had almost been a second war in Heaven. Those things were best kept secret from humans.
At least the children were behaving now. Whatever the teacher had to say (once he recovered), they would be listening to the lesson attentively.
With a thought, Michael erased what was on the scrolls and pulled Castiel up. “It’s time we head off to another location.” he said.
TBC
So basically Cas started the Nazca lines, and the wandering people thought it was a nifty idea to keep drawing more stuff (don’t judge my crazy thoughts XD). Cas' spiral ended up being the tail of this
Fae = Fairy. I thought it would be a cool connection since some people theorized that the Nazca lines were “runways for extraterrestrial beings” A.K.A. aliens, and the aliens we had on the show were fairies. There you go.
The Atlantean part… well, one of the other Nazca lines is an orca, so to have a sea creature in the middle of a desert is a little “fishy” don’t you think? ;)
And I think it’s safe to say that I’m having way too much fun fiddling with history. Please don’t bash me for any historical inaccuracies; every weird detail here is just for the story ^^