ART : Archangel Michael by Caelicorn @ deviantArt.com
An Arkangel’s Dream
It was another perfect evening. The wind and mist continued their spiral dance under the midnight rainbow. In the distance, next to the Angel Oak tree, tiny voices interrupted the stillness of Heaven. The Ark Angels were too excited to sleep. “Do you think Lord Michael is awake yet?” Zamuel asked Micah. Micah shrugged his shoulders. He looked down at the ground, wiggling his toes in the moist, dew-covered grass. “Maybe we should go and take a peek…just to be sure” suggested Twilight. Micah shook his head and sighed: “Lord Michael said he would meet us here in the morning. We should wait.”
He walked to the back of the Angel Oak tree where he could be alone. All he could think of was becoming a Light Warrior. Nothing else mattered, not even the Ark. Micah felt ashamed for thinking this way yet he could not deny the yearning in his heart. He looked at his wooden sword and ran his hand over the scratches and dents in the blade. He recalled the stories Lord Michael had told them under the Angel Oak tree…the faraway battles fought most bravely by the Legions of Light. Lord Michael was not only the bravest Light Warrior in Heaven but also the greatest storyteller! Micah memorized each story in detail and spent hours every day re-enacting the battles with his wooden sword. But tonight he could no longer hide his discontent. “It was okay when I was younger” he said looking at his sword “but I’m older now and it seems so childish. No true Light Warrior carries a wooden sword much less practices with one.”
The Angel Oak listened quietly as Micah continued to think aloud, unaware that he was standing under the most ancient of all the oak trees in the Great Central Sun. Not only was she the only Angel Oak in all of Heaven, but she possessed magical powers. Her greatest gift was her memory. She could retain everything seen, heard, thought and felt with exceptional accuracy, and stored them within packets of Adamantine Light. Only the purest and highest angelic frequencies could access them.
Over the years, she watched Micah with great interest. Her trunk would sustain a random whack or two from his sword as he practiced. Micah apologized each time to the Angel Oak and tried to keep a safe distance. But his imagination transformed his surroundings into the battlefields spoken of in Lord Michael’s stories. Micah saw himself fighting alongside the Legions of Light. Anything within striking range was, unfortunately, fair game. The Angel Oak understood this all too well. For eons, she observed and recorded multitudes of angelic lights practicing under her branches. Each one aspiring to become a Light Warrior. She was accustomed to occasional blows and grateful the practice swords were made of wood!
But Micah’s sadness touched her deeply. It reminded her of another little angel in Heaven’s history. The Angel Oak called up that holographic memory: an angelic light that practiced here long ago who once dreamed as Micah now does. But this little one was younger and a bit pitiful! Frail, shy and horribly uncoordinated, he could barely lift the wooden sword from the ground. And when he did manage such a feat, the sword would fall haphazardly upon him – hitting his head and knocking him down. After numerous failed attempts, this angelic light would run to the Angel Oak and put his face against her trunk to hide his tears of golden liquid light. The Angel Oak would extend her strong branches downward to gently embrace him and wipe his tears with her soft, green leaves. ’Definitely not light warrior material’ thought the Angel Oak. ‘Perhaps he is better suited as an angelic scribe or gardener.’ Still this little light would not be bound. He showed up every day to practice. The Angel Oak was impressed. “He may not be much but he does have heart.”
With the Angel Oak’s guidance, he made a pillow from her leaves and secured it to his head with vines. As time went by, this little angel became stronger, taller and more confident. His moves were now smoother, quicker and very powerful. He was fearless yet golden of heart. The Angel Oak was so proud!
When he was initiated as a Light Warrior, he returned to the Angel Oak to ask what he could do to repay her kindness. The Angel Oak thought for a moment and said, “When you journey through the Universe, promise you will return and tell your tales under my branches. I would love hearing them since I am unable to move from this spot. Also, I would enjoy having the angelic children gathered beneath me to listen as well.” The Light Warrior laughed with abandoned delight and hugged the Angel Oak. “That is an easy one to keep and something I shall take great pleasure in doing!” Many years have passed since then. The warrior made good on his promise. Who would have thought that this frail little angel would one day be known as Lord Michael, Leader of the Legions of Light?
Micah was not aware of Lord Michael’s humble beginnings. The Angel Oak never shares what she knows without the proper angelic frequency. He hadn’t a clue as to what happened during an initiation.
Not wanting to join the other children just yet, Micah sat down on the grass. He leaned against the Angel Oak and placed his wooden sword across his lap. ‘A light warrior initiation’ he thought. He closed his eyes and went into a dream:
It is said that when an initiate passes the tests of Virtues, Attributes and Qualities, he is taken to a Crystal Pyramid. This pyramid is located at the bottom of the Great Lake of the Central Sun and guarded by a fierce Water Dragon named Bartholomew. The door to the pyramid can only be opened by Lord Michael’s galactic song, sung by Michael himself. The pyramid has three chambers within it.
The first chamber is called the Hall of Swords. Thousands of swords – each unique in color, shape and size – are stored here. They have been forged with Creator Light Force. The initiate enters the doorway and sees a winding path before him. The swords line both sides of the path – suspended in midair, blades pointing upwards. The initiate begins to sing his personal galactic song as he walks down the path between the swords. If the initiate’s heart is pure and his song true, one of the swords will begin to glow a most brilliant light! The initiate must then take hold of the sword, bond with its energy and telepathically command it to tone. If he is successful, the sword will tone loudly the initiate’s galactic song! Initiate and sword become one force. The sword will serve no other Light Warrior and will only respond to its master’s galactic frequency.
The initiate is then led to a second chamber called the Hall of Codes. Here attendants dress him in fine robes and armor made with prisms of light. A special symbol appears on his breast plate and across the blade of his sword. Both are engraved in the Language of Light. The sword is then placed into a golden sheath and anchored firmly to the initiate’s side.
The initiate is finally escorted to the third chamber called the Hall of Covenants. Lord Michael and his Legions of Light have gathered in full regalia. In the center of the chamber floor is a large, circular, royal blue sapphire crystal. A golden Flower of Light symbol is embedded in it. The initiate stands upon it and thrusts his sword deeply into the middle of the crystal. Placing both hands on the sword’s handle, the initiate kneels.
The Legions of Light position themselves in concentric circles around him. The warriors on the inner circle place the tips of their swords on the perimeter of the sapphire crystal. The warriors on the outer circles place the tips of their swords upon the heads of those in front of them.
Michael stands in the inner circle facing the initiate. Raising his Sword of Truth upward, lightning bolts from inside the Crystal Pyramid’s capstone strike its tip. An intense electric blue light now emanates from the sword. Michael then places the tip of his sword upon the handle of the initiate’s sword completing the circuit. The electric blue light flows through and ignites the Flower of Light and each concentric circle therein. Lord Michael commands the new Light Warrior to stand and raise his sword. The Legions of Light raise their swords along with Lord Michael. In unison they tone the sacred Sound of the Creator. The new warrior now takes his place in the outer-most circle as a member of the Legions of Light. A great celebration is held in Heaven to welcome him.
A gentle nudge wakes Micah from his dream. He opens his eyes and is surprised to find Lord Michael sitting next to him! “Nice sword!” Michael grinned. “I can tell from the marks in the wood that you have been practicing a lot.” Micah looked away. “It’s not the same” he said sadly. “It’s just a wooden sword. It will never be a real sword like the Light Warriors carry.” Micah could no longer hold back his tears. His discouragement showed plainly and he felt ashamed crying in front of Michael, the greatest Light Warrior in all of Heaven. Michael placed his arms around Micah and hugged him tightly. “I think it’s time for a story,” he said softly in Micah’s ear. “Would you like to hear it?” Micah nodded silently as he buried his tear-streaked face in Michael’s chest.
“Once upon a time – long, long ago… there was this little angelic light who wanted to be a Light Warrior. But he was awkward in every way imaginable. No one believed he could do it. Each day he practiced right on this very spot. Others would pass by to watch his feeble attempts to lift the wooden sword off the ground only to have it fall on his head. Quite pathetic! At times his head hurt so badly he would cry into the trunk of the Angel Oak tree. But he did not stop for he knew he wanted to a Light Warrior more than anything else in all of Heaven. As the years went by, he improved steadily. At last, he was ready to become a Light Warrior with the Legions of Light. Not surprisingly, the first piece of armor given him was a helmet!”
Michael could feel Micah laughing softly. He gently raised his chin and looked into his teary eyes. “That awkward little angel was me. Like you, I also became disenchanted with my wooden sword more times than I care to remember! I’m going to share with you something I discovered during my Light Warrior initiation that will give you encouragement. But you must promise not to tell anyone for this is a secret only revealed to Light Warriors. Can you do that?” Micah gave an eager nod.
Michael removed his Sword of Truth from its golden sheath and held it up in front of them. It was brilliant, exquisite and powerful! It toned a deep, ancient sound – a sound Micah never heard before. All his attention was now focused on Michael’s sword.
“Now, let me show you what it looked liked before my Light Warrior initiation.” With a wave of his hand, Michael’s sword transformed into a small, wooden sword with scratches and dents in the blade! Micah gasped! “It looks like mine! But how can that be?”
Michael smiled. “It wasn’t until my initiation that I realized how important this simple, wooden sword was. You see, it was evolving and growing right along with me. When I sang my galactic song in the Hall of Swords the day of my initiation, it had already transformed into the light sword you just saw. It was waiting for me.” Michael gave another wave of his hand and the wooden sword turned back into the Sword of Truth.
Micah’s heart was so filled with joy that he felt any moment it would burst! He looked upon his wooden sword with astonishment. ‘I’m actually holding my future Sword of Light,’ he thought. He hugged Michael and reassured him he would not share this secret with anyone.
They both stood up and Michael stretched his mighty arms toward Heaven. The first hints of daylight were now cresting over the horizon. “So, young Micah, shall we have sword practice before joining the others?” Micah looked lovingly at his wooden sword then placed it gently against the Angel Oak tree.
“No” he replied with a big smile. “I think we have an Ark to build.”
And the journey continues…
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