“I’m just glad you’re finally here so we can talk. Believe it or not, you intrigue me. I must admit that I was a little bored before we formally met. I’ve always been near you but talking to you is different. Plus, your constant inner turmoil amuses me,” he chuckled, a low rumbling sound that closely resembled thunder and seemed to fill the air.
“You can hear my thoughts?” Emma's voice squeaked. She was horrified by the possibility of him hearing the thoughts she’d been having about him.
“Not always, it’s usually only if there's something I need to know. Usually your face and eyes give most of it away.”
“How does that work?" Emma didn't like the fact that she was apparently so easy to read. “And what do you mean by 'things you need to know'?”
“The Father is the only one who can know your thoughts all the time. But as your guardian angel I was given the gift of discernment, but only where it concerns you and your welfare.”
Emma had no idea what he was talking about. The perplexed look on her face must have given it away, because Micah explained further before she had to ask.
“It's a spiritual gift. God gave it to me so that when knowing your thoughts is helpful, I will know them. It's for your benefit as much as mine. Personal thoughts that don’t directly affect your salvation aren’t ones that I need to know, therefore they’re not usually revealed to me.”
“That sounds reasonable I guess,” Emma said, still worried.
“I don't have to use the gift very often Emma,” Micah said reassuringly, "I can usually guess what you’re thinking. I know you quite well after all, remember? I’ve been around since you were in diapers,” he sounded lighthearted in his confession, and it made her feel a little better.
“You’re close by a lot, aren’t you?” Emma wanted to know if her assumptions from earlier that day were right, or if she was just being paranoid.
“I do stay close to you. There are times I’m closer than others but I rarely leave you completely. It’s kind of like the sun. Sometimes you know it’s there. You can see it, and feel its warmth. Sometimes it goes behind the clouds, and you can’t see it as well or feel its heat quite so intensely, but it’s still there. Then the earth turns and you are covered in darkness, but the sun is still there, where it has always been. It never leaves and neither do I.”
This was a new idea to Emma and kind of hard to process. “I guess that’s kind of comforting, but still hard to think about. It makes me feel like I don’t have any privacy at all.”
“Don’t worry Emma, it’s not like that. I don’t pry. I try not to involve myself in things that have no bearing on your salvation. I don’t feel quite the same way about things as mortals do. I’m only here to protect, to inspire, or to help in any way I can. I don’t interfere though—at least I’m not supposed to.” He sounded like he felt a little guilt with that last statement.
Emma didn’t want him having any regrets and changing his mind about their deal. She decided to change the subject quickly. “Are all angels guardians like you, or are there different kinds?”
“There are different levels of angels you could say, a sort of hierarchy. We're not all guardians.”
“How many ‘levels’ are there?” Emma said with curiosity.
“There are three different spheres of angelic beings. Three orders make up the first sphere. They are: Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones or Orphanim. These three groups work closely with the Father, guarding his throne, protecting the celestial realm where He resides, and carrying out His justice and authority.”
“I’ve heard of Cherubim before, but aren’t they the little naked guys with bows and arrows that make people fall in love?” Emma said bashfully.
Micah chuckled softly, “Not at all. Cherubim are high Celestial beings and do not often involve themselves with the mortal world.”
“Oh,” Emma felt a little embarrassed. “What about the other two um...spheres?”
“The second sphere includes the Dominions who regulate the duties of lower angels, the Virtues who supervise the movements of the heavenly bodies and keep the cosmos in order, and the Powers who are the bearers of conscience and the keepers of history.....among other things,” Micah paused, but Emma barely noticed as she tried to absorb the information she was being fed.
“Are you bored yet?” he inquired when she said nothing.
“No, I’m just trying to take it all in. It’s a lot of information.”
“It’s not something you need to be overly concerned with. You aren’t required to memorize it,” he said lightly.
“I know," Emma admitted, “but it’s still good to know. What about the last level?”
“The third sphere contains the Principalities or Rulers, they grant blessings to the material world as directed by the Dominions. They are also the ones who inspire you mortals in the areas of art and science.”
“Like muses,” Emma said distantly.
“Yes, they have been referred to that way. The next in order are the Archangels, they are the highest ranking of the Order of Angels. They look over the affairs of mortals. Then the last group is referred to simply as Angels. There are many different kinds of Angels—Guardians or Messengers being two of the most recognized. They are the heavenly beings who are the most directly involved with mortals and earthly matters.”
“So only the lowest level of Angels can be guardians?” Emma asked, hoping not to offend him. It didn’t matter to her what kind of a heavenly being he was. He was the greatest thing she could imagine.
“Usually, but any angelic being can accept the mission of being a Guardian,” Micah said flatly.
“Is there only one angel assigned to each person, or how does that work?”
“Yes, normally there is only one, although different circumstances can affect that at any time. Like I said, we are protectors. So whatever it takes to accomplish that task is what we do.”
“What exactly do you protect us from, other than our own stupidity?” Emma smiled, knowing that was where most of her danger came from.
“We don’t usually protect you from that. You all have your free will, to act stupidly as you put it. We more often protect you from accidents or the promptings of the Dark Ones.” Emma heard a note of irritation in his voice when he said the name.
“Who are the Dark Ones?” Emma asked with hesitancy, not sure she wanted to know. The name itself sounded menacing.
“They have been here forever just like us. They are lost souls in a way. They will never have a mortal existence of their own. That is part of their punishment for choosing sides with Lucifer, the Dark Angel, or the Devil as you mortals call him. Their only desire now, is to destroy the souls of men, and drag them down into misery. You’ve heard the saying that misery loves company; well it’s true to a point. They will always be miserable, and they want everyone else to be miserable too, especially those who have a mortal body, because they will never have one. I guess you could call it jealousy.”
“So they're always around us too?” Emma shuddered at this new revelation.
“Yes, they are here, there are quite a few of them too. They can’t hurt you though, they can only persuade you. They can’t tamper with your free agency either. They can’t inflict any physical harm; theirs is more of a mental attack.”
“So they can read our thoughts too?” This scared Emma more than knowing of their presence. Who could fight mind control?
“No. They can’t read your thoughts. God made sure that there was enmity placed between them and your thoughts; a sort of protective barrier. They can’t control you. Like I said, they can only persuade you to do what they want. You are always in control of what you decide,” his voice was calm and reassuring.
“Still, I’m glad we have an invisible army on our side.” Emma smiled, feeling more at ease with that thought in her head.
“There’s more truth to that than you think. It really is a war, in a matter of speaking. We fight to protect your agency. It’s the most precious gi
ft you possess. You are all inherently good. But you have the choice to emulate goodness, or to turn toward evil tendencies. These choices are what make you mortal.”
“You said that the Dark Ones can’t hurt us physically. Is that because your kind can’t do anything in a physical sense, because you don’t have a physical body?” Emma asked. She hoped she hadn’t offended Micah by grouping him in the same category as the Dark Ones.
“We can’t touch mortals in the way that you define touching,” he admitted. He either hadn’t noticed her grouping comment, or he was ignoring it. “We are purely spirit. But our spirits can touch each other, though it would be different than how you experience it with someone who has a mortal body like your own.”
“Our spirits can touch?” That sounded exciting and strange. Emma had to know more. “How does that work exactly?”
“Our spirits are both made up of the same thing. Before you were born into your mortal state, you were pure spirit like I am. As spirit beings, we’re much the same as mortals. We use touch often amongst each other. We can shake hands, or hug, or give one another a pat on the back,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Oh,” was all Emma could say. A pat on the back wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind. "I was wondering something..." she said slowly.
"And what is it you were wondering?" he asked curiously.
"Well, I don't know if this is true or not, but I heard once that you can tell a spirit is in the room because it suddenly gets cold. But when you are around me it feels warm, not cold."
Emma heard a soft chuckle from him. "And where did you hear that exactly?"
"Well, it may have been on T.V... on a talk show... with one of those weird psychic’s," Emma admitted sheepishly.
"I see," he said, as if teasing her.
"I guess that's all just a bunch of made up hooey, huh?"
"No, not exactly."
"Really; so it’s true?"
"Like I said before, we are all made up of the same kind of energy. It's no different with the Dark Ones. When you’re around a good spirit, such as myself, we exude our light and energy around us. Energy creates heat in most cases. The Dark Ones are an exception to that rule. They have no light in them, they are like a black hole, and they suck up the energy around them, therefore leaving an empty cold feeling behind."
"That's kind of freaky," Emma shuddered at the thought of having a Dark One near enough to rob her of her heat.
"Remember, they can't hurt you Emma. You're more powerful than they will ever be. Just knowing that is half the battle."
Emma could tell by the placement of the sun as it slipped through the cracks in the wood, hanging low on the western horizon, that it was time to get dinner ready before her mom arrived home.
"I'm sorry Micah, but I should probably go inside and make dinner," she said hesitantly, "will you be back tomorrow?"
"If you want me to come back," he said softly.
"I do," Emma said quickly. "I want you to come back every day if that works for you?"
"Then every day it shall be," he said in his sugary voice.
It was Friday. There was an assembly today, and attendance was required. Destry had come prepared.
He wanted to find out more about the elusive Emma. There was something about her that wouldn’t let go of him. It seemed to follow him and lurk behind him in the shadows, always there, always making the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. It had started from the moment he first saw her, and it was not letting up. He hadn't had much luck up to this point learning anything about this girl who caused this strange reaction in him. Today would be the perfect opportunity for a recon mission.
"Dude. Why are you dressed like that?" Chuck asked as Destry walked into the school that morning.
"Dressed like what?" Destry countered. He glanced down at his full camouflage attire and shrugged.
"I thought hunting season was over." Chuck said with a sneer.
"I happen to like camo, okay? Do you have a problem with me wearing camo?"
"No, not if you're hunting moose," Chuck snickered. "I'm surprised you didn't bring your binoculars with you."
"Ha, ha," Destry said sarcastically as he walked away. Maybe I should have brought my binoculars. I think they’re in my truck! He thought to himself. No!! What am I thinking?
He stepped into the auditorium and immediately scanned the perimeter for Emma. He saw her sitting in the center section, third row back from the front.
He slid stealthily into a seat two rows behind her, and slumped down. He didn't want her to see him—that would ruin everything. That had been the purpose of the camo. Now that he thought about it though, it did seem like a stupid idea. But it was too late to go home and change now.
The lights started to dim as the principal walked up to the podium and started addressing the student-body. Emma began fidgeting in her chair and glanced to either side of her. She was acting like she knew she was being watched, but that was ridiculous. How could she know?
Destry's heart was pounding wildly in his chest. It was so loud in his ears that he wondered if anyone else could hear it. What if she caught him watching her? What would she think?
I can’t let her catch me checking her out. I need to be stealthy, Destry thought, like when I go hunting? He began going through a mental checklist:
Camouflage—check... Gun—doesn't apply here... Binoculars—forgot them in my truck... Sit upwind—check... Face Paint— I think I still have some in my front pants pocket…
Destry reached down and felt his pocket. Bonus, it's still in here! He slowly pulled the can of face paint out of his pocket and removed the lid. He stuck his finger in and ran it through the thick green paint. What am I doing?! I've lost my mind! I can't put on face paint here! He reached over to the empty seat next to him and wiped the paint across it to get rid of the evidence. He was losing it.
Just then Chuck plopped down in the seat next to him. "What are you doing over here, hunched down in your seat like that?" Chuck whispered too loudly.
Emma turned around at the sound of Chuck's voice, giving him a look of disgust. Then she noticed Destry sitting next to him. Her eyes narrowed like she'd just been insulted. She turned back around in her seat and slid down as far as she could go.
"Oh..." Chuck said in his annoying whisper when he noticed Emma in front of them. "You are hunting moose, aren't you?" He snickered loudly.
Destry shot him a disapproving look. "You know, you can really be a jerk sometimes," he said with annoyance.
"What did I do?" Chuck said innocently.
Destry leaned as far away from Chuck as he could.
"Whatever," Chuck mumbled.
Destry sat through the rest of the assembly in a daze. He only glanced in Emma's direction when he was sure that Chuck wasn't looking. He didn't want him to make another scene.
When the assembly was over, Destry quickly got up out of his seat and strode to the doors. He stepped out into the hall and leaned against the back wall and waited. Emma came out first and hurried down the hall, Chuck wasn't far behind her.
"You're not still mad at me for that hunting crack are you?" Chuck asked with a smile when he saw Destry.
"Why would I be mad?" Destry asked calmly.
"I was just kidding. I know you don't really like that Emma chic."
"Hey Chuck," Destry said in an insolent tone. "You should probably go home and change your pants.”
“Why would I want to do that?” Chuck asked with a confused look.
“Because, there's a big green smear across the back of them and it looks like crap."
Chuck quickly spun around to check his backside.
"What the...?!?!"
With that Destry walked away, smirking.
Chapter 5: COMPROMISE
Sunday morning, Emma awoke with renewed vitality. She showered and got ready for church without dragging her feet at all. She put on one of her favorite dresses—one that she didn’t wear very often beca
use it required warm weather—it was light and flowing, white with delicate blue flowers embroidered on it, and came to just above the knee. It made her look as carefree as she felt. She practically skipped out of the house.
Emma's mom was suspicious. “Feelin' perky today huh? Catherine asked.
“Would you rather that I be sour or something?” Emma offered.
“No. I was just wondering where it’s coming from,” she said more carefully. "I think I could get used to it. I like the new and improved attitude."
Emma’s Sunday school lesson that day was on the war in heaven. Emma's teacher explained that they had all begun making choices as spirits in heaven. The choices they had made there determined whether or not they would be able to come to earth and receive a body.
Emma's teacher continued by saying, that the Devil didn’t want them to be allowed to make their own choices. He wanted to force them to do his will.
Many spirits agreed with him, and became his followers and were cast out of Heaven along with him. Those spirits would never get to have mortal bodies.
The Dark Ones, Emma thought.
That made Emma curious about a couple of things. Why was Micah still an angel? Would he ever be allowed to come to earth and have a mortal body like she did? The lesson made it sound like not having a body was some sort of punishment. So how did that work for angels?
After church, Emma's family went to Gram’s house. It was pretty much a tradition. They usually had a big Sunday dinner and visited for the rest of the afternoon.
Emma enjoyed being at Gram’s for the most part. It always had a warm and cozy feeling to it. Gram almost always had a fire going in her little fireplace in the living room. Emma liked to sit on the couch and watch the sparks dance, and the flames lick at the glass door.
Emma was easily mesmerized on this particular afternoon. She sat almost perfectly motionless and stared happily off into space. Her face must have taken on the look of someone in a hypnotic trance because it wasn't long before the adults started to worry.
“Is she doin’ okay?” Emma heard Gram question her mom, at what she estimated to be about forty-five minutes into her trance.
Eternal (Eternal series) Page 4