Father always makes me do the most. The boy let out a long sigh as he finally made it over the crest of the hill. His long trek was only further burdened by the mountains of snow that came down during his journey. He looked down at the city below. It wasn’t too big, but by no means was it in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t too small, though it paled in comparison to New York. It was the perfect size, just right enough to appease Goldilocks. However, it was not nearly as perfect as the hill he had chosen. It was high enough that the byproducts of the vulgar humans could not blot out his father's creations but low enough to see the stars the humans created to illuminate their streets. The boy set himself down on the hill, his legs relieved of the tension that had been plaguing them during his momentous journey up the slope. As he laid on the pillow of snow, he gazed at the stars above. He couldn’t help but wonder what about these creations interested his father. “They have come a long way though,” he thought, sitting up. He could see the little imitation stars the humans had created. The stars lit their streets, all the while encased in a prison of glass.

From his orb among the stars, the guide of the night looked down disappointingly at the boy. Wouldn’t want to get sent to hell with Lucifer. Guess it’s time to get to work. The boy stretched his arms above his head before slowly standing up. I wanted to get a bit more rest, but the man father chose to put on the moon is relentless. The boy shook his head. All he has to do is light the thing when it gets dark, why does he take it so seriously? The boy stretched his arms above him once more.

Fwoosh

Innocently white wings appeared on his back. The boy jumped from the hill, the light from the orb of the guide glistened off the lustrous feathers of his wings. The boy glided through the night, each occasional flap of his wings brought a sense of happiness to those below. Feeling a loving warmth that pierced the bitter cold a little girl looks to the sky, only to see a feather slowly falling to the snow-ridden streets. Plucking a feather from his wings he chanted a spell from a language no human could hope to understand. A dim sphere of light encased the feather, which now hovered between his two outstretched hands. “Lead the way,” the boy said aloud. The boy continued to glide. The sphere of light encasing the feather continued to hover above his hands. The boy let out a sigh as he flapped his wings. “Please?” he asked the feather. The feather absorbed the light encasing it, the tip of the feather pointing toward the heart of the city. The feather darted off at a speed no angel could hope to follow. “You can’t be serious,” the boy yelled frustratingly, flapping his wings in his best attempt to catch the feather.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

After a short game of cat and mouse, the feather finally stopped above a house. The light it had absorbed dissipated into the night, leaving only the feather of an angel to descend to the ground below. “I guess this is it,” the boy thought, as he descended to pick up the feather. The boy looked up at the small apartment in front of him. After surveying the building for a moment and determining that no one was inside, he decided to let himself in through an open window.

“Guess I’ll wait for him to come back,” the boy thought as he sat in the only chair in the building. The apartment was a small one. It wasn’t even fit to house a single person. The apartment featured a single main room that connected to a closet and a bathroom. The occupant’s fridge and stove were in the main room, as well as their bed and workplace. The only item in the room that differentiated itself from the rest was the computer that sat at the desk. In contrast to the poor condition of the walls, it was well maintained and looked as if it had come out of an alien's spacecraft.

The feather the boy had picked up before began to vibrate and glow brightly. Having taken great care as to not alert anyone of his presence in the building, the boy quickly covered up the glowing feather. “What is it, Uriel!?” the boy whispered sharply to the feather.

“I was just wondering if you made it to your target’s dwelling yet,” a voice replied, the sound of it emanating from the feather.

“Yes, I’m in his apartment right now. He isn’t here though, I’m waiting for him to return.”

The voice chuckled loudly. “That is good. I was worried something would go wrong.”

“Do you really think that lowly of me,” the boy said disparagingly, shaking his head.

Click

The doorknob began to buckle. “He’s here,” the boy whispered into the feather, “I’ll call you back when I’m done.” The boy tossed the feather out of the window. He quickly turned the chair to face the door. As he crossed one leg over the other, the door slowly opened.

Moonlight flooded the room, illuminating the boy’s face.

“Hello,” the boy smiled, “I’m Gabriel, one of the four archangels.”