"Please,"I said desperately," if you're not supposed to tell me, then don't. I don't want you to Fall—" 

Mikha'el laughed bitterly. "Fall? If I were to Fall, I would have already." 

"Even those boastful words can—" 

"Do not lecture me on things I already know." 

I abruptly stopped talking. My reaction made him speak in a nicer tone to me. 

"Just like Auriel told Metatron—what I choose to say and do is my choice, and mine alone. Now." 

Mikha'el fluttered all six wings, stretching them. He then pulled them all around him tightly so all I could see was his head, wrapped up like a blanket. He got more comfortable, and honestly it was the most relaxed I had seen him in quite some time. 

"You are the purest soul in existence. That's not me fluffing you up, stroking your ego. You are an anomaly. Truthfully you're a surprise, even to God Himself. It's why Fate showed interest in you. It's why Indrajala wants to befriend you—yes, I knew about that already. Which, leads me to my next point. 

"I know that because us angels share some attributes of God Himself, but to a lesser degree. We are omnipotent, to an extent. You already saw our ability to be several places at once, detailed by Raguel. We are able to speak telepathically. Metatron is so emotive his point gets across even though he is lacking a body, but I assure you, he has a voice." Mikha'el looked pissed, glaring off to the side. "And you would know that if I were allowed to unlock your latent angelic abilities." 

"Why am I not allowed to?" 

Mikha'el laughed. "Fear." 

I couldn't help but crinkle my nose. "Who fears me?" 

"No one. Not you, specifically. Not yet, anyway." 

I leaned forward. "Please spare me the cryptic bullshit and answer me plainly, Mikha'el." 

Mikha'el unfurled his wings. "You having a pure soul is no surprise to you. Even before today, you knew you were chosen for your mortal attributes. But you don't get it."

Mikha'el scooted forward in his chair. As he spoke, he pressed his fingertips into the palm of his opposite hand. 

"Something happened to your soul, your essence. You were born with a spiritual purity that is not seen, nor gifted, outside of natural angels. I don't know if it was a fluke, or what, but your soul is a pure concentration of grace. It's…"

I raised both eyebrows. "Go on." 

Mikha'el smiled at me, all six wings giving a brief shudder. "It's magical." 

I leaned back in my chair, a headache beginning to form, scratching at the base of my skull and behind my forehead. Mikha'el continued. 

"That is why I was told to not train you immediately in telekinesis and the like. You're too powerful. It's like you're a ready-born archangel. It's really quite absurd." 

My headache was quickly churning into anxiety. "Mikha'el…"

"Yes?"

"If you weren't supposed to tell me this…"

"Am I at risk of Falling? No."

"How? You are disobeying a direct order from God! Isn't that blasphemous? Isn't that—" 

Mikha'el held up his hand to silence me, so I stopped talking. He put his hand down. "I am also following His direct orders." 

I furrowed my brow. "How so?" 

"He made me your warden. He told me that I was in charge of your training, and that I must do anything and everything in my power to teach you properly. There were a lot of things left open-ended." 

"Him specifically telling you specifically not to reveal something to me seems pretty direct, Mikha'el." 

My friend glowered at me. "Would you have me say nothing at all when two primordial beings show up, unannounced with their beck and call? Come now, Ulcinin. I know how much your confusion causes you anguish. It is to a point where your lack in angelic knowledge is becoming a hindrance. Thus, I am fulfilling God's direction. Two instructions were counter-intuitive, and God trusts me enough to make a sound decision. Ergo, here we are."

"This all seems rather…suspicious." 

"How so?" 

"It seems as though you have found a work-around, that your intent isn't entirely pure." 

"Oh, it is," he assured me. 

I shook my head. "Look, I'm happy He is not smiting you now and throwing you out of Heaven, but I still don't understand. If what you're saying and doing now isn't causing God to lash out with His wrath, then what on earth qualifies an angel to Fall?" 

"Disobedience to the highest degree." 

I rubbed at my temples. "Meaning?" 

"Loss of faith. True loss of faith. I don't agree with His assertion that you shouldn't be allowed self-awareness of your full potential yet. But in my heart of hearts He is still my God. I am still loyal to Him. 

"There is also complete disregard for the natural order of things. Certain things are forbidden. Things like being sexually intimate with mortals." Mikha'el paused, looking me dead in the eye. "Having sexual relationships with demons and other Hell spawn." 

My breath caught. I could tell from the weight of the words he was telling me something, something I needed to read the subtext to. However, I was at a loss. After a few moments, he moved on.

"Aiding and abetting the enemy. Having sympathy for the enemy."

Again with the intense look. He definitely was trying to tell me something… 

"Mikha'el," I said, unsure if I had hit upon what he wanted to say. "I know Sariel became overly sympathetic to those who had sinned, and Remiel fell in love with one of the mortals he was to escort. Why did Raguel Fall?" 

Mikha'el gave a solid grin. "Many reasons, and I shall impart this knowledge as a tool of learning." 

Mikha'el leaned forward once more, and I was briefly swept away by his beauty. 

"First and foremost, he was sympathetic to the hundreds of angels that were loyal to Lucifer. He nearly followed Lucifer himself." 

That shocked me. 

"He also fought long and hard with God in an attempt to redeem Sariel and Remiel, which God also took offense with." 

When Mikha'el paused, I knew there was more. "And?" 

"He had relations with a demon. Sexual in nature." 

I was floored. Absolutely floored. My jaw dropped open and I didn't even bother closing it. 

"Raguel is empathetic to a fault. He fell in love with one of Lucifer's main demons, known as the Noonday Demon. Her real name, Meridian, must not be spoken, except by those powerful enough to avoid accidental invocation by saying her name."

I felt sick. 

"He believed he could save her. He thought if he loved her enough he could show her the light. That was the final decision Raguel made which made him Fall." 

"Why are his wings blue? And how did he find his grace again?" 

"When an angel Falls," he explained patiently, "their wings turn black. When, in the rare instances they are permitted grace again, their wings are never the same. They are always tainted. Some angels get their white wings back, but they are never the pristine pure white. They also become a beacon of emotions—negative thoughts, energy, and thinking of or feeling emotions felt that led them to Falling makes them turn back to black—but slowly. So a Fallen angel who has achieved grace again might have wings that are just slightly dirty looking, and depending on their mood might shift in color, on the spectrum of becoming shades of grey all the way to near-black. "

My eyebrows shot up. "And Raguel's blue?"

"And extremely light shade of black so they appear blue." 

"I wish I had more meade," I muttered. 

Mikha'el chuckled, waved his hand, and fresh drink appeared in front of me. I scooped it up and began drinking it immediately. 

"So what you're saying is, Raguel is always on the precipice of Falling again?" 

"Yes." 

I let out a burst of a sigh. 

"Now, grace," Mikha'el replied, making his own drink replenish. He wrapped his wings around him once more, but not as tightly. He chuckled. "Grace is a tricky thing. If you gain it back, you have one chance. If you Fall again, it's permanent." 

I started. "What? But…but isn't God about forgiveness, and love, and—" 

"The Lord works in mysterious ways." 

I rolled my eyes, which prompted a chuckle from Mikha'el. 

"He is about forgiveness regarding mortal souls," he said. "Angels? Why should He? He'd have a bunch of grey-winged angels running around, doing whatever they please! Can you imagine the discord? The infighting? Nothing would get accomplished and it all would be for naught." 

"So Falling is a choice?" 

"Yes," Mikha'el replied a bit impatiently, snorting into his cup, "Falling is of course a choice."

Silence lapped between us. I looked around at the empty spaces between the pillars. Frowning, I wondered if Mikha'el could see them. 

"Now," Mikha'el said then, finishing off his drink and placing the empty up on the table, "earning grace back. It involves prayer." 

"Prayer?" 

"Yes. To God. There is much repentance, much begging. God can feel how serious an angel is, how dedicated they are. Sometimes this takes years, like is Raguel's case. However, the moment God senses a complete devotion, a complete, full repentance, an all consuming guilt that is usually accompanied by suicidal ideations, then God forgives."

"That sounds terrible." 

"Falling in terrible." 

More silence. 

"You know…" Mikha'el said, peering over the lip of his once-again filled cup, "not everyone survives. Some Fallen angels aren't saved, and suicidal ideation becomes suicidal will. In some instances, it results in death."

"How can God allow that?" I nearly shouted, abhorrence thick in my voice. 

"Careful," Mikha'el warned. 

I took a deep, shuddering breath. I didn't need to Fall, talking about Falling. Once I settled my nerves and indignant anger, I asked, "What happens when an angel dies?" 

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. It make my stomach twist painfully, and I felt sick. The thought of an angel dying…It was repulsive. Terrible. And abomination affront to my mind. 

"Poof," Mikha'el said, gesturing with his hand the act of poofing. "Gone." 

"Gone?" 

Mikha'el held up his drink, looking at his cup instead of me. "Our essence goes back into the universe to be reused. The same goes for the Fallen, demons and the like." 

"Demons?!" 

Mikha'el looked at me. "Yes, demons. Dearest Ulcinin, there cannot be good without evil. Certainly you have garnered that from your studies thus far?" 

We lapsed into silence once more. An anger was writhing within me. If I was so damn important, why did it take me roughly a year to find any of this out? Why was my very essence as an angel, my Heavenly attributes kept from me, that which was rightly mine? 

"I want to see them," I growled out. 

Mikha'el blinked. "Excuse me?" 

I looked at him. "I want to see the sigils." 

"What are you talking about?" 

I waved around us. "Whatever you've done so no one can hear us. I want to see those." 

Mikha'el chuckled. "Oh. That. And what makes you think anyone can see them?" 

"A hunch." 

A smile crept onto his perfect face, and quickly smeared into a wide grin. "Keep listening to your hunches. They serve you well." 

"Well?" I replied with a smug expression. "Show me." 

Mikha'el got to his feet then. Unfurling all of his wings he raised his arms over his head and extended his wings to their full length, going up on his toes even for a full body stretch. When he was done he gave a pleasant smile, and shook himself. 

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I cried. 

He narrowed his eyes a little. "Patience, young one. Yes, tomorrow. Today, go home and study on your own." 

"But—" 

"I have many things I need to attend to, anyway." I didn't miss the bitter bite to the words. "Things that God has bequeathed to me that I have been neglecting." 

My wings drooped. "Oh." 

"I mean really," he huffed, more to himself than to me, "If He wants these things done in a timely fashion, He should pass along some tasks to others." 

I raised an eyebrow. Mikha'el smiled at me and put a hand on my shoulder. 

"Never you mind. We shall begin your indoctrination into full angel hood—tomorrow." 

Crestfallen, I watched as he moved about the room again, waving his hand at the spaces in between again. 

"Thank you for speaking with me," he said. "I do apologize; my behavior today was unbecoming." 

I couldn't help but snort. "It's quite alright, Mikha'el—you're entitled to a bad day here and there." 

Mikha'el finished dispelling the last ward. Then he came to me and we embraced. Smiling fondly, he said, 

"Thank you." 

Then he was gone.