I wrote a short story about this angel some time ago.Well, it’s nearly a story. In theology, he is a protector of children and the unborn. In my story, he is in a lot of trouble. When angels fall, they become demons. And they are, by all accounts, easily tricked by other angels and demons. Not unlike us sorry ass mortals.
The Tower Peak
“Damn!” Sandalphon said. He meant it as he felt physical legs beneath him. He was fallen, cast down, expelled from heaven. He was, in fact, damned.
“If there was a book and our kind existed inside of time, you fell for its oldest trick,” came a voice, not from the heavens nor from the depths of the darkness to where Sandalphon was now fated. “You interfered, tried to help. One of our dark brother’s minions fooled you.”
“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” Sandy said, turning to face an angel working hard to take human form. “I can still see the wings, Raphael.”
“Sandy, what have you done?”
“I meant to help,” Sandalphon explained. “Can you carry a message back to Him on my behalf?”
“There’s not much time,” Raphael said. “Let’s find a place where our rebellious brother can’t command you. We have a blessed day, the span of one human life, before that blasphemous brat retrieves you into his darkness for all eternity.”
Mountains rose in the distance. The landscape echoed the paradise lost. A black road curved away from the world’s natural beauty toward a sprinkling of artificial lights. Corruption of creation, the rough magic left to mortals illuminated the horizon.
“Which fallen world have I landed on?” Sandalphon asked.
“The one that caused your fall, naturally,” Raphael said. “Come, I hear a prayer of a mortal in a place you can safely stay while I return home to plead your case.”
The Tower Peak stood on a hill that overlooked a sea of city lights, a small inn with a quaint tavern. Raphael and Sandalphon took a small table in a dark corner. Raphael appeared an angel sans wings. The blinking neon obscured his eternal glow and made him look like a pale man who bathed far too often and spent most of his waking hours grooming.
A plump waitress in her mid -years approached them, a look that said she knew she should smile but had not the energy. Sandalphon wondered if it had been her prayer that called Raphael to this place.
“Whaddaya have?” she asked.
“My friend here has had a trying day. Get us a beer. Whatever you think is good.” Raphael smiled brightly at her. She looked at him the way mortals always did – she saw but did not recognize the angel in front of her.
The waitress brought two beers. “It’s local,” she said. “Better than that foreign crap. If you don’t like it, next one is free.”
“You’re a good woman. Thank you.” Raphael did that angel thing. Sandalphon recognized it even if the waitress did not. The burden she carried lightened, and she felt less isolated, and her despair left her. She found her smile.
Such a simple thing. Hope in an expression of gratitude. It never seemed like enough to Sandalphon. Of course, that is why he was in such trouble now.
“Beer?” Sandy asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Damn fool that you are, you’re mortal now. You have tongue and all. Taste it. You might like it and you definitely need it,” Raphael said.
“You answered her prayer with beer?”
“No, I answered your prayer with beer. I answered her prayer with kindness.”
“Damn, sporting of you.” Sandy took a tentative sip of the ale. Good, very good. “Remarkable. No wonder these creatures are so enthralled with this stuff.”
“There is still a touch of divinity in these fallen creatures and a touch of magic in some of their designs. Remember, they were once the greatest of our Father’s creations. While you have these moments as a human, you might as well enjoy them. There is still good and beauty here in the mortal coil.”
“The prayer that revealed this place to you,” Sandy said. “I could not hear what the waitress prayed for…”
“Of course not. You’re damned, and all because you tried to override the free will of one human to please another,” Raphael said. “That’s how you got in trouble. You tried to be a genie in a bottle instead of a messenger.”
“I can’t abide their pain. Tell Him I only wanted to turn their hate back into love. He will understand, won’t He?”
“Sandy, these fallen beings must find their own way home. We are meant to listen, to deliver His messages, to hear their prayers, and to comfort them. Not to lead them. Not to change them. Light must be chosen freely. Only darkness can be forced.”