“Hey,” began Timothy, staring at her depressing blank look, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” lied Sara, smiling once again and taking another huge bite of her bar. She had learned to surpass her feelings for the greater good so that everyone could focus on their imperative tasks and save the world.

“You know, sometimes it’s okay to admit you are feeling down. When I feel sad about something, sometimes I have to talk about it with my friend.” The warlock added, “It’s bad to keep your emotions locked up because one day those emotions will rise to the surface.”

Timothy pressed his lips and said softly, “One day when I was crying, because I was conflicted about choosing to be the next in line to be the next High-warlock, my mentor had told me to not give a shit about what people wanted from me and create my own life of freedom.”

After telling Sara about his stressors and personal life, some of his burdens were lifted off his shoulders. He put his finger on his lips. “But don’t be telling people this; this is our secret, got it?”

Sara nodded, her eyes promising to keep his secret.

While they finished unwrapping the gifts, Timothy hoped she'd share her anguish. However, she seemed reluctant to share.

Once they categorized the sweets, spell books, and even some stuffed animals, Sara chewed off the head of a gummy bear when she admitted, with a sad pout, “Today is my birthday.”

It was strange to confess to a stranger about her desperation, but Timothy seemed to care. “Please don’t get excited over it,” she shrugged, darting her eyes away from his shocked expression. Her black hair fell over her, concealing her saddening countenance.

Guilt flooded inside Timothy for not knowing today was Sara’s birthday. But also, anger flared on his face because it was apparent no one—not even her best friend or father—had wished her that. He got off his bed, ignoring the pain stabbing at him. He was going to spend Sara’s birthday with her. Not because he felt obliged or pitied her, but because Sara deserved someone to give their time and effort on her special day.

Sara cocked her head in confusion, and Timothy yanked her arm. She jumped off the bed, holding her box of gummy bears for dear life. “Wait, what are you doing?”

Timothy laughed, his emerald eyes sparkling alive, and a wicked grin flashed. “We are celebrating your damn birthday; that’s what we are doing! If no one else will, then I guess I will have all the fun with you!”

The newly sixteen-year-old girl tried to protest as they dashed out of the hospital wing. Choirs gawked at them for leaving the building. “Wait, what about your gifts?!”

“Let the damn Choirs deal with my presents!” answered Timothy. He crackled, his voice ringing out into the sky. “Happy Birthday!”

What has gotten into him? Nevertheless, a renewed surge of happiness blossomed inside Sara, and they ran back into the Celestial Hotel.

They took the stairs, with Timothy letting go of Sara’s hand since he had gotten her attention. He asked, “Do you watch rated movies?”

Sara giggled and was filled with giddiness. “Yes, although don’t tell Dad.”

He was elated to get a smile out of the Prowler for once. They strode in the hallway, and Timothy raised his hands and swirled them around, knowing she probably wouldn't get this reference; however, he loved the movie anyway and was excited to show it to her. “Then let’s do the time warp again!”

***

The highest-ranking and most powerful Archangels strode with their heads held high. They walked on smooth, golden, and white tessellated flooring in the mall of the cafeteria. A modern skylight shone brightness into the interior. Golden swirls had motif patterns on the pearl pillars, and arches loomed above the Seers.

The cafeteria consists of three floors of dining with ornamented dark golden stripes on glass railings. Harmonies chattered about the escaped warlock, but they hushed when the Archangels glided by them with brilliant smiles.

However, when the Seers made their way to the Harmony Sanctum, arriving at their brother’s office, their smiles faulted.

Michael rose to his feet from his chair, pressing his hand to smooth down the wrinkles on his white shirt, of which he didn’t have any. “Hello, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Sam.” He gestured for his siblings to make themselves comfortable, but the Seers remained standing and piercing at their uptight brother.

“Lovely to see you, Michael; it’s been a moment,” Sam chimed. “How’s your daughter doing?”

“She’s doing fine,” Michael sassed, narrowing his slim eyebrows. He gripped his fists together as if he were trying to break something invisible. He wished all the stars he could’ve been celebrating his daughter’s birthday rather than dealing with this mess. Grinding his impeccable teeth, he replied coldly, “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Sam perched on her brother’s desk and crossed her legs, her white dress draped over the table’s edge. “Michael, we are siblings; there is no need to be so crossed with us.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Yes,” agreed Gabriel, seeing those golden eyes filled with determination. He reclined on a cushioned chair in his white suit, which looked more like silky pajamas. “So, let’s talk about Thomas Pitch.”

After a long, exhausting morning, Michael had distressing thoughts running through his head. He held back, spitting out accusing words to his siblings, but his voice strained as he asked, “Are you asking me because you don’t know what’s been going on, or are you asking me because you are curious that I’ll accept my failure?”

“Michael,” purred Sam. She shook her head, and her luscious pink hair floated around her. “Don’t think for once that we would ask you to step down from your position. We heard the news from international television of the lights going off in San Francisco and Las Angeles, and thankfully they are back on.”

"Are you sure one of your spies didn’t tell you instead?” snarled Michael.

Gabriel sighed, knowing that his brother must be awfully spent dealing with Thomas Pitch and losing his patience quickly. ”This isn’t about how we got our information. We understand your frustration, and let us help you instead of grumbling at us.”

The Archangel glanced away with hesitancy and responded to Gabriel’s question a moment ago: “Thomas Pitch escaped once again. If he broke out the first time, why couldn’t he do it the second time? I undermined him.”

The Seers looked at one another, and Sam comforted, “Michael, we will catch him.”

“We don’t even know where Pitch has gone!" Michael rasped.

Raphael was enlightened: “If Thomas Pitch has the sword, we can assume his motives are to try to kill you and Lucifer.”

Michael sucked in his breath. “I guess I should lay down the news while we are on this topic.” He told them about Ricky thinking that his daughter helped Pitch nine years ago. He frowned at having to report that, and he watched how his siblings reacted.

A bold grin twitched on Gabriel’s expression. “That’s not surprising to hear, honestly. You had always taught Sara to do what’s best and to have hope in humanity and people.”

Uriel folded his arms on his chest, huffing, “And this is why she should’ve stayed with us.”

Gabriel retorted, “She’s better off here.”

“I know we still disagree about where Sara should be or whatnot, but let’s not let this conflict affect our family relationship,” said Sam, quickly injecting to not cause a fuss.

Pursing his lips, Michael saw his sister gaze away from his brothers. “I agree; let’s not talk about this in the open, shall we?” He cleared his throat to hopefully get rid of the tension in the office. He hoped his human body didn’t look completely tensed up.

Each of the five Archangels had unique features that were unnatural to the Mundanes’ eyes. The reason they were in their human forms was because if their real selves were revealed on earth, the humans witnessing their holy greatness would go blind. In addition, they agreed their presence should only be graced in Heaven.

Strangely for a Choir, nevertheless an Archangel, Gabriel had tattoo markings covering his arms that had angelic symbols and runes. “Michael, we do trust your best judgment because our Conductor chose you to lead the Choirs…” he paused to think before he acted, "just because we are worried about you. I do think it’s best if you do tell us from the beginning from your own perspective about Pitch, so we can stay on the same page.”

Relief coursed through the Archangel, glad that one of his siblings understood the importance of settling into an agreement from what occurred with Pitch. Michael told them about the warlock’s strange appearance at the beach with Kate and then continued from there.

While elaborating on the events unfolding, he studied closely how his siblings reacted. His sister stared at him, absorbing everything he had to say, while Uriel and Gabriel kept quiet until he finished.

Raphael listened to his brother, slightly biting his finger, and his head was lowered thoughtfully.

Once Michael finished explaining, his sister asked affirmatively, “So, you don’t think Lucifer has anything to do with this?”

“He seemed to want Pitch to die,” answered Michael, now knowing his siblings just wanted to do what was best for the world. “Remember that when they saw each other last time, Lucifer had us drag Pitch to his death. I highly doubt Pitch would be helping him after what his friend had done to him.”

Michael added, “Also, Timothy Watt is here, and some Nephilim boy got in my way, Nathan.”

“Is it true that Timothy had been there when Pitch escaped?” questioned Uriel, furrowing his eyebrows with suspension.

“Yes, he’s in the hospital wing right now,” answered Michael.

Sam gasped, widening his sparkling pink eyes. “Wait, isn’t Nathan the last Nephilim born?”

Gabriel frowned. “Yes, the Choirs killed his parents for disobeying the law when he was a baby, and then they took him in.”

“But didn’t he run away from a Sanctum in Tokyo and have been missing ever since?” wondered Sam, “It’s strange he appeared out of nowhere now.”

“I’m keeping an eye on him,” responded Michael. He observed Raphael deeply pondering about something intensely, which made the Archangel curious. “What’s wrong?”

Raphael replied with a shrug. “It’s strange none of us are mad at what Sara has done.”

“If Sara had let Pitch out, she was just a seven-year-old doing dumb things as a seven-year-old child,” remarked Sam. She turned to Michael and said, “You don’t think she has known this whole time? She doesn’t seem like a girl to hide secrets well.”

Thinking of Sara for always dodging the question with the voice in her head, Michael disagreed with his sister. However, Sam had a point. His daughter didn’t seem to be hiding the fact that she aided in Pitch’s breakout. There were too many missing pieces to pinpoint everything on her, but at the same time, there was hardcore evidence of Sara having her motives.

“Bring Sara in,” stated Raphael, locking eyes with Michael. “I have some questions to ask her. I think I know what’s going on.”

The Archangel wished to know what was on his brother’s mind, but Michael replied, “Alright then, I’ll go get her.” He turned on his heels and headed out of his office, his heart thumping in hopes his daughter had nothing to do with this.

Sam was right—who could blame a seven-year-old for doing childish things?