I was a normal girl, once, I think.

It was a while ago.

I was seventeen when things started going to hell- August eighth, that was the day my mother told me I was a half angel. It was a ridiculous notion, really. Angels stayed in Heaven. They didn't have children with humans. I hadn't even seen an angel in real life before anyway, just on TV or in my history books.

I didn't have wings. I was a girl. I couldn't be an angel!

But my mother told me I said. I was struck by her tears, the sad way she kept insisting what she said was true. And that soon I'd have to go.

I didn't believe her, right up to the day in September when the angels came for me. Walked right up to the door, sat themselves down on the couch. My mother served the two of them tea.

Immortal, eternally youthful, dreadfully attractive. And I was to be one of them.


It had never really been addressed, or discussed, but every time there was an angel spotting, the angel in question had been male. No one really knew if there were female angels, as asking any question towards an angel was considered quite rude.

But from the way the two angels who sat on my couch were staring at me, I think I knew the answer. I was like prey.

I was given a few hours to pack my things. And then I was off- teleported, instantly, to the other realm where Heaven lay.

Heaven was like a sphere of existence, a plane with a definite end that somehow still wrapped around itself. It was a town and a city at once, buildings built like skyscrapers but only reaching a few stories in length. And the architecture was like the gardens of babylon; white, eroded, and covered in plants.

In the center was a long and white hall, layered by steps and plazas and lording over the city like a grand mausoleum.

My two guides led me up. Every angel we passed stopped for a moment and stared at me. I had had the time to change into a cute lacy blue dress, but now I felt self conscious about its length. Was I showing too much leg? That was a thing guys were into, right?

Thank god I had shaved this morning.

Inside the grand building was... well... grandness. Sweeping corridors lined with luxurious tapestries and grand paintings of Heaven, Earth, and Hell. Grand roman columns held up the open aired outer halls, and even as we entered the private sections of the building the walls managed to amaze me in their beauty.

Luxury. Beauty. Who had build this? I didn't even care. I just wanted to revel in it.

Somewhere near the center we arrived at our destination: a throne room. A marble chair at the end of a sunlight wall. The ceiling was stained glass, illuminating most of the room in a rainbow of colors.

The angel we were looking for wasn't sitting at the throne though. In the center of the room was a long table. A man in half armor, a long gold cloak covering most of it, was pouring over a document on the table.

"Michael Van Arkangelis!" The two men who had taken me here said in unison, saluting their leader by slamming their fist against their heart. "We've located a half angel."

"A half angel?" Michael turned around, and blushed at the amount of attention he immediately gave me. He walked towards me, leaning closer like he could see something I couldn't.

He had curly blonde hair, like a rosy-cheeked painting of a cherub. But of course, he wasn't some cherub- he was the Archangel, the leader of them all. His eyes were soft and blue, but he narrowed them as he stared at me, like he was calculating something. And his cheeks weren't rosy, either, but cold and sharp. His cheekbones would've made a model out of any woman.

Then, carefully, he extended his hand out towards my face. His fingers slowly touched my cheek, and I could feel myself blush. He gently traced his fingers down my cheek, pausing at my jawline.

"You're not going to be safe here." Michael said.

"Huh?" I sounded like an idiot, and I regretted speaking immediately. He obviously hadn't been done speaking!

I thought I saw the glimmer of a smile in his eyes. "We've never had a girl before. What's your name?"

"Eden. Eden Faust."

"Eden. Hm. We'll have to disguise you, Eden, as a boy. Otherwise I fear what the men might do to you." He noticed the worry on my face. "Oh, don't fear. Angels are good, moraled men. But there are always a few soon to fall. This is for your own safety only until you're strong enough to fend for yourself."

"But! Angels saw me walk in here! They'll know!"

"They won't, as I'll tell them you were a demon we caught and executed. And no one will think much of you, I promise, as there are other half angels. It's only that we've never had a girl before."


"Never. It's rare enough that an angel conceives a child with a human! You are vastly unique, Eden, and..." Michael looked sharply to the two angels who escorted me to him. "I'd like to speak with you alone."

The two left immediately.

"Now then." Michael said cheerfully. "Your wings."

"Yeah..." I said. I looked at his. They were folded back, mostly hidden when viewed from in front. But I knew what they were like unfurled, giant, feathery, and glistening like gemstones. His were a pure gold.

"As a half-angel, you should develop them on your own. They are magic, after all. But I can help coax them to appear, as to speed up your assimilation into your new life."

"Okay. How?"

"Well." He smirks. I melt. "You're going to have to get out of that dress."

Fifteen minutes later and I'm in a bathroom, everything made of marble, sitting on the edge of a bath wearing two towels. One to cover the lower half of my body, the other to hold against my chest. My back is exposed.

I'm hyperaware of everything around me. Michael is behind me, lightly tracing his fingers on my back. I'm not sure what is going to happen next, but I do know my face is as red as flames.

His fingers run over my bones, slipping from spinal joint to joint. He traces the outline of my shoulder bones.

His fingers are hot on my skin, gentle but burning. I think it might be magic- I almost feel like I can sense something different about his touch now. Like he's drawing something from me.

And then, like blinking, I have wings. Not full ones, not the fifteen feet they'd soon come to. Just the start.

Like liquid energy, Michael draws my wings out of my body. It feels like a catharsis, like a relief. I still can't believe this is happening, but here it is. Wings.

I turn to watch as he draws them from me, brow creased in thought. As they form, he moves away from me, hands leaving my body as he brings my wings to life.

They are still not fully grown when he stops, only perhaps three feet in length.

"Milky white." He says with a laugh. "Beautiful."

I stand up, practicing moving my new appendages. I learn to fold them and release them. I am an angel now. This is who I am!

I grin as I do this, and then notice Michael staring at me. The haunting feeling of being hunted returns.

It happens quick- too quick for me to even dwell on it, but Michael soon has my head in his hands, his lips against mine.

I lose myself.

And only return when he stops, runs a gentle hand through my hair, and murmurs in my ear. I don't catch what he says, but I feel a shiver down my spine all the same.