Seventeen years was not enough time for my immortal soul to forget the stench of war.My next life had already begun but while it was still in it's infancy, again I heard the message my father plied upon the mortals. Again words of peace and love and brotherhood reached my bitter ears.
Again I was compelled to meet the messenger.
The year was 1962. The place was Albany, Georgia. I told myself I would not be drawn into this mission. I only
wished to see if this was my father's hand at work. What I found was a chance to redeem myself to one I'd wronged many ages ago; the only soul I'd ever met in more than one lifetime. And I embraced that chance. That small redemption meant so much that I even agreed to uphold the messenger. But there is no limit to the cruelty of my existence.
Now I only wish to forget.
A glimpse into the novel...
THE MESSENGER
I flew a long way. The trip was a number of nights and I’d expended even the strength I’d stolen in my rage and grief. I longed only for the solitude of this place I came to for shelter between my false lives and the time to forget.
I considered remaining a raven for a while longer, there was far less conscious thought in that form, there was mainly instinct. I might have even enjoyed the disruption to my self-loathing had exhaustion not been a greater priority.
I approached my door under the dense black cover of a moonless night where I took my loathsome earthly form and entered, but immediately I knew I was not alone.
“Why are you here?” I asked the darkness.
“She asked me to check on you. She did not think you would want to tell her about it.”
“I had hoped she did not see this time.” I sighed.
Raphael laughed. “Evangeline sees all when it comes to you, Brother. Do you wish to tell me what happened?”
“No. My anger is too deep. I came to rest and to hide again until it is time to take on my next guise.”
“You know my strength, perhaps I can help you.”
“I ask for nothing.” I told him, turning away.
“I know. Yet, I would give what I have freely.” he answered gently, which only inflamed my bitterness.
“Do you not see, Raphael?” I said angrily, turning on him. “I would wish more than anything to destroy the bond between you and our father, make you bitter as I am. I wish his ending and the
destruction of all things. I wish nothing but hate upon all creation.” I said venomously.
“What happened?”
“He destroyed that which I wished to save. He took redemption from me with no mercy even as I tried to help his messenger. I wish with every ounce of the spirit within me to annihilate him.”
“That is not your wish, Sammael. I know you. You are an Angel, the last son of the Glory of the Father. You wish to return to him, to our home. You wish to return to Evangeline,” he reprimanded. But then he looked at me appraisingly. “You are the taker of souls, and yet you do not take them indiscriminately, nor even consistently. I should think if you felt nothing but hate you would be much more devious and perhaps more vicious. I suspect someone touched you this
time. You made a connection,” he said laying his hand upon me.
I did not answer him.
“Sammael, I remember what it was like. I am sure my brief experience was far different from all you have done and seen, but I remember what it was like to care for someone. Come, tell me what has befallen you.” Raphael whispered as his warmth spread though my overtaxed body and my will to hold on to my pain drained away leaving me exposed and riddled with guilt.
But my desolate soul spilled its tale.
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