A/N: Just to make sure it's clear. Since the sword of an angel, as far as my story is concerned, has a portion of the Holy Spirit, they can do certain things. They abby in the angel's mind, so the angel has an 'inner world' so to speak. That's what happens in the chapter.
Back on Track... Sort of
Makiel and the others came through the gates quickly, though not in a rush. Zechariah was surprised at how injured the angels were. He was more surprised, however, that Raphael was standing causually, though there was an obvious sword wound through abdomen. Then there was the fact that Makiel looked so different.
" We need to clean up these two" Makiel stated, motioning to Raphael and the K.O'd Gabriel.
" What happene-" Zechariah was cut off by Michael.
" Yes, but what to do?"
Immediately after the question was asked, the four conscious Archangel's eyes became half-lidded in annoyance. Uriel had a visible vein on his forehead, and Rapahel's right eye was twitching.
" The river" they said in annoyed unison. Makiel re-opened the Gates. They went in with their heads down and shoulders slumped, dragging their feet as they walked. Once inside, no words were spoken and they dashed back. Much like they'd done with Makiel, Gabriel and Rapahel were tossed inside.
Uriel prepared himself for another fancy entrance, and was quite surprised at what happened next.
Gabriel suddenly splashed out, gasping deeply.
" What's the big idea?!" he yelled more than asked, waving his arms around madly. Right beside him, Rapahel came up. His usually cool attitude was gone.
" I wasn't even passed out and you just throw me in?!"
The two were too busy yelling to see Uriel, who was rolling around in the grass, doubled-over in laughter. Michael was snickering and Makiel was trying hard to not end up like Uriel.
Speaking of which, Uriel was again quite surprised when he felt himself being picked and thrown at high speeds. It all happened too fast for him to register, but when he regained his senses, he found himself floating face-up, soaked, in the river, spitting out water in a fountain- like fashion. Above him, Raphael and Gabriel were smiling down. Uriel sighed.
" I guess I deserved that... but you deserve this!"
Uriel grabbed the angels by their ankles and pulled them back down. In the grass, Michael and Makiel stood.
" This has become childish" Makiel said with a sly twinkle in his eyes.
" So it has," was the response from Michael, who closed his eyes. Right after, he felt a foot plant itself on his back, and he found himself falling face-first into the water. His body sunk and came back up a few moments later, face up. Makiel, still on the grass, was chuckling to himself.
The four archangels pulled themselves out of the water, dropping to the soft grass and closing their eyes. They each stabbed their swords beside them.
Bliss. I'm glad everyone is fine.
As am I. But Satan is not going to just roll over and let us pass. When we reach Spain, we will be attacked again. If not directly, then by some minions.
Yes, you are correct.
Uriel! That battle was the best we've had in so long!
Right? We lost, but it was a great fight!
Caecos, I worry for Makiel. He seems fine, but...
I understand. Everything with Satan... I do wonder why his wings changed...
Perhaps I should ask him soon...'
What do you think, Zeal? We can't call it Satan's attack, since we went to him.
Fighting Satan... you well knew we wouldn't win.
But Makiel needed to realize it too.
Was it worth the price of injuring Raphael and Gabriel? To have them tossed aside like trash just for Makiel to understand something?
They were healed.
They wouldn't have had the need to be if they had not been injured in the first place. If you had wanted him to understand you could have let him fight on his own.
But then we wouldn't have been a strong as we could have, and he'd think we could win if we fought together.
You could have just kept him on board...
Makiel's head suddenly felt like it was spinning, his vision flashing. Then everything went white.
But Makiel recognized this. It was fog. It was in his head.
" Why am I here Maturate?" He asked loudly. The fog, as usual, was very thick. Makiel's mind was a beautiful forest, with morning mist still hanging around. There was no answer.
Only the sound of the wind through the trees could be heard.
Makiel narrowed his eyes. There! There was a vague outline of someone within the fog.
" Why won't you answer me, Maturate?"
" I know not who you call" the person said, in a deep voice, smooth as ice, but just as cold.
" You're not Maturate..."
" No, I am not. Why do you, then, continue to call me Maturate?"
" If you're not Maturate, then who are you?"
" Wouldn't you like to know...?"
Makiel huffed his frustration and pulled out his sword, swinging horizontally. The fog cleared away. And he saw him.
A man, who if put in human days would be of about forty, stood there. He was tall and well-built. He wore a long, dark cloak that was open towards the top, and reached slightly below the knee. From there, boots covered his legs and feet. The man was fair-skinned, with piercing blue eyes and messy black hair, a long wavy strand of it going diagonally across his face. At the end of the long sleeves, and at the neck of the cloak, patches of dark gray fur puffed out.
The wind suddenly picked up. A very strong wind, that knocked Makiel to the side. He rolled a good distance before getting back on his feet. Looking at the man, he was just standing there. He streched put his hand. Wind began swirling around it. So much, so fast, and so compressed, that it was actually visible.
Then he swung.
First, Makiel heard a Sonic Boom. Then he felt like tons upon tons suddenly smacked him, and he was thrown back. He would hit the ground, from time to time, and it would crack, or even leave a crater when he did. Makiel tried to flap his wings, but the winds kept them pressed againts him. He eventually hit a boulder, which did break into hundreds of pieces, but succesfully stopped him. The Archangel's eyes were wide in utter awe and shock. But he didn't get much time.
The man materalized in front of him and punched Makiel's stomach. The angel gasped as he lost all air, and blood came from his mouth. He slumped down to the grass.
" As you can see, the difference between our power is great"
" I. Don't. Care" Makiel gasped as he pushed himself on one knee, wincing.
" Oh? Your eyes show determination"
" I refuse to give in! If you're in my head, you should know that, and where's Maturate!?"
Ignoring most of the statement, the man sighed. " Perhaps if I show you that you cannot win, you will understand"
He once more streched forth his left hand. The wind again encircled it. But this time, he closed his hand, as if grabbing something. One small, white particle slowly drew in. Then another. And another. In no tiome, thousands of the particles were flying in, taking the shape of a sword. There was a bright light, and the man held a sword in his hand. The blade was almost white, and the handle was pitch black. The ball at the bottom of the hilt had vey small, very precious stones on it. Onyx, silver, gold, platinum, rubby. In shape, it looked exactly like Makiel's sword.
The man kicked Makiel, who went flying off, then swung his his sword. The blade crackled with electricity, before a wave of lightning came forth, moving extremely fast. When the wave made contact with Makiel, the angel screamed in agony. The wave exploded, leaving a slumped Makiel on the floor, small sparks coming and smoke rising from him. Shakily, trembling, and with great effort, he began to push himself up.
" I-I t-thought... I told you..." he managed, " I r-refuse to give in!"
The man shrugged carelessly
" You don't have to be so dramatic, jeez... but I will show you one last thing"
The sword dissipated into nothing. Then slowly, the particles began to once again re-assemble. This time, they took the shape of a white bow. The man lifted the bow up and pulled the string, an electric arrow forming from nowhere. Then he let go.
The arrow impaled Makiel on the shoulder, not only traspassing him, but actually leaving through the back of his shoulder. Behind him, the ground exploded from where the arrow hit.
Makiel fell to his knees and screamed, holding his shoulder. Blood was freely flowing from the wound. He shut his eyes and grimaced.
" What a stubborn wielder I have" the man said. The bow glowed and changed shape, now looking like a gold Star of David about a foot big. The man's eyes darkened. The bow crackled increasingly. The star then flashed, and a thousand lightning arrows flew forward. Makiel closed his eyes once more and sighed.
The the first arrow made contact...
Outside, the four Archangels had felt the change in Makiel. They now stood around him. His eyes were open, but clouded over and emotion less. The angels exchanged looks, wondering what was happening...
The smoke cleared slowly. Makiel wasn't moving at all. The man had dissipated the bow, and now stood beside Makiel unarmed. The blood coning from the angel and the un-even breathing assured him that he wouldn't try anything. The fog suddenly came back. Immediately, Makiel's wounds began to heal. He blinked his eyes open slowly.
" Get up, Makiel"
The angel, surprised to no longer have any wounds, stood up.
" Why am I not wounded?"
" You do not know? The fog here is from the Holy Ghost. It heals wounds. You should learn what happens in your own mind"
" You still haven't told me your name"
The man half turned around and looked him in the eyes.
" A storm comes forth and brings down tempest. You are yet to know my name."
Makiel found himself back on the grass, with the Archangels looking down at him. He quickly stood up.
" Let's go. We need to go back to the boat, and stay this time" he pulled his sword from the ground and left. Much like they'd done not too long ago, they followed suit.
A/N: So, yeah. Hope you liked the chapter. Makiel's new sword in action!It's beacuse of the whole curse/blessing thing. It'll be better explained in chapters to come.