Guidance, part 3

Under a great pine tree covered in snow, Michael was remotely viewing the situation in Heaven. The other fledglings who had yet to receive their titles were becoming restless and were beginning to cause a commotion. Some of the custodial angels were doing everything in their ability to placate them, yet it was proving to be a losing battle.

Perhaps Michael should have ordered someone to temporarily replace him in his absence before leaving. Then again, there was not anyone around who had the same authoritative power and consideration as he did. The angel who was closest to his position was Raphael, albeit everyone knew that things would end disastrously if he was in charge of the fledglings.

He supposed that this course of action was the best. After all, the fledglings could use this time to exercise patience and humility (and maybe they would tire themselves out when Michael returned). The length of their waiting period, of course, depended entirely on Castiel's progress.

Right now, he was trying to find out if he was any good at guiding animals in their migration patterns. It so happened that the nearest group of animals were deer, and Castiel was attempting to change their winter route so that they would not have to pass by a bunch of wolf dens. So far, Castiel was failing miserably, and if he had a physical body at this moment, he would have been trampled a dozen times already.

After a few hours, the deer managed to alter their direction, for a few degrees. Castiel trudged his way back to Michael with his wings dragging behind him in pure defeat.

"It's alright, Castiel. We'll find another task for you later. Take this time to reflect." said Michael. To be honest, he was growing weary with his time with this fledgling. No one had to take this long in discovering their titles, no one had to try so many things before.

Michael watched as his brother was suddenly surrounded by squirrels, and he soon learned that Castiel was endeavoring to manipulate the migration pattern of smaller animals this time. Castiel made a gesture – a command to get the squirrels to go to the right –and they all ignored him. Castiel concentrated harder; two of the squirrels started grooming while one curled up to sleep. Frustrated, Castiel plopped to the snowy ground and sat, his wings covering him.

In spite of the lack of development, Michael had to admit that Castiel was determined and diligent. Most fledglings would have given up by now and might even be bawling at their incapacity. At least Castiel refused to give up and was more than willing to take up a new challenge.

Out of curiosity, Michael tracked, in his mind's eye, where the deer currently were. Apparently, the slight change in degrees had a huge overall impact as there was a good distance between the deer and the wolf territory. The deer were now heading for a clearing where a group of humans were located. Michael saw that the humans were cold; a few of the incoming deer could help fix that problem with their may not have done the deer much of a favor, but the humans would surely be thankful of their slight change in route.

"Michael?" Castiel spoke up.

Michael snapped out of his remote viewing and looked at Castiel. "Yes, brother?"

"Why do we have to serve humans?" asked Castiel.

It was an innocent question, born out of the random process of thought from the mind of someone young, who simply wanted to know why. It held no malice or subtext; it was genuine curiosity from a being who was pure of heart.

And yet… the words were eerily familiar. Michael remembered another angel use similar words, eons ago. Those words had been directed at him as well, but during that time, there was anger and the sense of betrayal in the air.

"Why must we serve them?"

Castiel was staring at Michael, clearly waiting for his answer. His wide blue eyes were almost the same hue as Lucifer's, and that realization made Michael turn his gaze from him.

"Because it is our Father's will."he replied, and that was the same answer he gave back then. "And according to His will, we have to make sure they live a righteous life, as much as possible." he added.

"What if He didn't tell us to? Would we still care about the humans?" Castiel went on.

Michael could still trace Lucifer's every movement precisely as he paced in front of him.

"Do you really believe that this is God's overall purpose for us? Is it His will for our kind to be degraded like this? That we have to cater to the petty needs of these walking, sickeningly flawed mounds of clay?"

"It's not in our place to question His decisions. Everything is as He wanted it to be." said Michael.

Castiel leaned against the tree and studied a tiny mound of snow. "It's… strange. One man's life is barely a fraction of our existence. Angels have such great power, whereas humans are so vulnerable to… everything." he commented.

"Michael, I'm telling you to open your eyes because you seem to fail in noticing how broken and weak they are, even from the moment they take their first breath. We are angels! We were created long before them, we hold the power of the cosmos in our grasps, and we were the first to bring honor and glory to the Father. How can humanity compete with that? How are they suddenly more significant that we have to kneel to them?"

Lucifer's light had shot all over the place, his once brilliant shine had transformed into a demented source of radiance. As if for the first time, Michael saw how much brighter Castiel was compared to the others, and he found himself becoming tense.

"Sometimes, I wonder if this is really how it's supposed to be."said Castiel.

"This isn't right. We deserve more – much more – than this."

Michael wished he would stop talking. He wished it would just stop.

"What do you think?" asked Castiel.

"Michael, say something!"

Michael stood up so abruptly that his movement caused the leaves of the trees within a hundred meters to quiver. "We should get moving." he said curtly, not sparing a glance at the fledgling beside him.

Fearing he upset him in some way, Castiel was about to say something but Michael interrupted, "You're bordering on blasphemy, Castiel. Be grateful that I allowed no punishment to befall you."

Castiel's wings ruffled in shock. "Sir, I – " he began anxiously.

"That's enough." said Michael firmly.

They flew to another destination.

O_x

Ever since their conversation under the pine tree, Michael had been feeling uneasy around Castiel, which was probably because, now, he cannot stop comparing the fledgling to Lucifer. The way he thought and the way he behaved practically mirrored Lucifer's own personality if Michael scrutinized him enough, and there was no other angel who knew Lucifer better than he did.

Before God created humanity, Lucifer had been benevolent and loyal. He loved Earth and he believed in the potential of whatever creation their Father brought into existence. He wanted to learn every detail about what God made – how the trees fed on sunlight, when the animals got tired enough to sleep, what colors the sky could change to – and in a way, he developed a thirst for knowledge, paralleled by Castiel's seemingly insatiable curiosity.

Lucifer served and was devoted to God with every ounce of his being, albeit he did not follow His every word with blind obedience. There were times when he would question, or at the very least voice out his concerns. The more he knew, the more he wanted to find out more, and at first, it was nothing more than harmless inquisitiveness.

Then he began thinking…inventively; he began stretching possibility after possibility that went beyond what was needed by Heaven. Lucifer had started to push limits bit by bit and expected changes to occur, changes according to his intentions. Essentially, he wanted things to be more than what they simply were because of the available opportunities each of them presented.

Most of all, Lucifer loved his family. He loved them so much that he refused to have their radiance overshadowed. He loved them so much that he would not allow the humans to get the better of angels. It was that same love that got him cast out.

Michael quickly peered at Castiel's Grace and saw that its light shone with a great deal of love for his siblings. Even though some of them made fun of him or gave him a hard time, his love for them all was as unwavering and pure as a newborn sun. Michael prayed that that intensity will not flare up and horribly consume him as it did to Lucifer.

Below them appeared a small town in the middle of a dense forest, and since it was nearing nighttime, the town looked as if it was drifting atop dark, rustling waters.

"We shall try here." Michael told Castiel.

They landed on a hill by the town's outer limits so that they can still survey the inhabitants without going inside. There were children playing in the town square, men in the stables tending to their horses, a cat having a good stretch after a long nap, a mother and father trying to teach their baby daughter how to walk with little success…

"What is my task, sir?" asked Castiel.

Michael eyed the sky as sunlight drained out of it, much like how blood would escape from a dying man's face. "Do you know what a wendigo is?" he inquired seriously.

The hesitation from Castiel sufficed for an answer. "Fairly, sir." he replied.

"Apparently, this town is at the mercy of one." said Michael, a fact which he discovered the moment the town entered his vision. There was a corruption in the area, and his senses registered the stench of brutal death.

The second the light disappeared from the sky, the aura of peace and happiness in the town ebbed immediately. Most of the residents ran to their homes, and the collective sounds of doors being locked and windows being barred echoed and reached the hearing of both angels. Those who were a tad braver sealed the gates that led to the town and checked the condition of the spikes poking on top of the wall that separated them from the forest. It was a crude and rather ineffective defensive strategy, but it would help in slowing down the creature hunting the people down one by one.

Michael motioned for them to move closer, and they did until they were standing in front of one of the town's gates. Evening was upon the land and the darkness was almost cloying.

"Do I have to fight it?" asked Castiel, sounding nervous.

"In this place, your job is to protect the lives within those walls." said Michael.

Castiel had been staring at the fortified wall when Michael spoke. When he heard what he had to do, he turned around to face Michael so rapidly that he virtually fell over. "Then I have to kill the creature?" he asked incredulously.

After a fleeting consultation with fate, Michael assessed that tonight was not the night the monster will perish. Like with all things in creation, it had a role to play in the grand scheme of things, and it was not yet fulfilled. "No, brother. It seems that this particular wendigo still has a part to play in the future. It will die, but not at your hands. Worry not about its death." he said.

There was a faint noise behind them, like leaves caught in a breeze… except there was no such breeze tonight.

"It's approaching. Keep it away from the town." said Michael.

Michael backed off to provide Castiel a decent amount of space to do whatever he must to fend off the monster. The wendigo was fast, but Michael believed that Castiel's speed would be more than a match for it.

Sure enough, the wendigo started its assault, coming from the east, and Castiel blocked its path with a swift explosion of flames. Though momentarily stunned, the wendigo tried again and approached the northeast side of the town. Castiel deterred it with another short-lived explosion. The wendigo moved toward the western part of the wall, but Castiel stopped it before it reached the gate.

This went on for several minutes; however, the wendigo eventually managed to learn and grew more cunning and adept in its maneuvers. Castiel, meanwhile, was beginning to feel the first symptoms of fatigue, and by now even he should realize that he ought to change his tactics.

Then, just after Castiel deflected another of the wendigo's persistent attacks, he flew up to the walls and ignited every spike that was attached on top – all three thousand five hundred twenty-six of them. Castiel did not simply light one spike and let the fire spread to rest of its accord; that would take a far longer time. Rather, he focused on lighting all of the spikes at the same time, and with their number and distance, that had to take a lot of energy out of him.

"Castiel, are you sure you can control all of this?" asked Michael who, throughout the entire time, remained in the canopies and out of the way. If a full-grown angel was performing this act, he would not doubt their ability. But Castiel was a fledgling, and his powers were not as developed.

Castiel did not say anything, primarily because his concentration was being exerted on maintaining the fire on the spikes, not allowing a single one to flicker out even for a second. Nonetheless, this tactic appeared to be working since the wendigo was not getting within twenty feet of the town's proximity. If Castiel could hold out a while longer, the wendigo might actually head back to where it came from.

Unfortunately, Castiel did not seem to have enough strength to let all the spikes burn for another minute. He faltered and a couple of spikes were on the verge of going out, although he prevented them from doing so in the nick of time by putting a bit more effort into what he was doing. Despite his intentions to keep the wendigo at bay, he ended up exerting a little too much effort and some of the spikes' flames expanded and got caught onto the roofs of houses.

From the roofs, the fire spread to the barns, to the poles that supported drying clothes, to the wagons that held trading goods, to the stalls that would sell fruits and vegetables in the morning. Within three minutes, the town was completely awake and screaming in terror.

Castiel stared at his work in alarm. "Oh, no."

Houses and other structures were beginning to go up in flames and crumble into ashes. People were confused and wailing as they watched everything they possessed burn away. A number of them attempted putting out the fire by dumping buckets of water on the site, though now the fire had reached the stage wherein it was nearly impossible to tame, so their noble efforts were proving to be a lost cause.

As if things could not worsen, a section of the gate was destroyed by the flames, which allowed the wendigo an entrance into the town. Clearly, it had mustered enough courage (or stupidity, more likely) to face the heat simply for the sake of human meat.

Michael did not know whose stupidity was worse: the wendigo's or Castiel's as he flew in headlong after the beast.

"Castiel?" he called out. The only response he heard was the mad crackling of fire.

"Castiel!" Michael tried again. Nothing.

Castiel was becoming more and more disobedient, and that angered Michael more than anything. If he cannot follow the orders of an archangel, then what hope did he have of being able to follow a lower-ranked angel, or anyone else for that matter? Michael feared that this tiny spark of rebellion would escalate into something as unruly as the flames before him.

He waited for any changes in the town, such as the fire weakening or becoming stronger, or the air suddenly being filled with more screams that would indicate the wendigo's kill. But everything remained somewhat constant.

If he wanted to, Michael can extinguish every flame in the town in less than a heartbeat. However, he will not, because that would stir a bigger, more long-lasting commotion. He did not want the humans to expect their problems to go away just like that; he did not want them to believe that divine power would conveniently make their lives better. Though the fire was not technically their fault, they needed to rely on their own abilities to form a solution so that they can learn and grow. That was what God wanted.

After a few more moments of waiting, Michael went in the town as well. He wanted to check on the people and how they were faring against the fire –a lot of them had suffered from at least one kind of injury at this point, but since they were already evacuating at a rather swift pace, there was no real need for him to help them or interfere in any other matter. While the safety of the humans concerned him, his main priority was to find Castiel and hope that he had not gotten himself into more trouble.

Michael did a quick scan of the town and was surprised to discover that he was actually experiencing difficulties in pinpointing his brother. He tried a second time, yet it was like there was something blocking him, a barrier of some sort. The idea alone disconcerted him, albeit he pushed it aside because he had a responsibility to fulfill, and he absolutely refused to return to Heaven with a missing fledgling.

He ended up searching the town the old-fashioned way, which was going through house after house until he located his brother. It was a tad humiliating since he, of all the angels, had to make do with such a time-consuming method. For humans, his search throughout the entire town would be thirty times faster than a blink of an eye, but for the standards of angels that would be agonizingly slow.

For some odd reason, Michael managed to find the wendigo first before Castiel. It got itself trapped under the weight of a big roof that collapsed from the fire and was presently scrambling out of its tiny wedge with hardly any progress. It was scratching and biting at the beams on top of it but it kept cowering down when the flames ventured too close to its face. Michael decided to leave the monster where it was and continued his search for Castiel.

It was not until he got to the two hundred eleventh house did he come across the fledgling. And soon he registered just as instantly why Castiel's signature was stifled: he was trapped in a ring of holy fire.

The house they were in once belonged to the town's herbalist, so the necessary ingredients for creating holy oil were present. What must have been an organized collection of materials laid out in meticulously categorized jars and boxes was obliterated when the fire snuck its way inside and burned the shelves to nothing. Everything had fallen to the floor, though a few items mixed together and produced the special oil, which ultimately attracted the flames and trapped Castiel. The chance of that occurring was one in a billion, but it was by no means impossible.

Castiel frantically looked up from where he was backing away from the holy fire when he noticed Michael come in. Terror was evident in his eyes and he was desperate to escape his prison, especially since the space within the ring was vanishing fast.

"Michael!" Castiel cried out. He unwittingly inched forward and, just before he brushed against the flames, remembered that he cannot cross them. He retreated again and stared at Michael pleadingly.

Despite Michael's prior intention of ensuring Castiel's welfare, he found himself having second thoughts about the fledgling. This was how Lucifer had been before he betrayed the will of God: innocent yet ambitious, unique yet did not conform to the general mindset of Heaven, empathetic yet can often be overly-sensitive. It was like Castiel was the infant pup who, at the moment, was weak and soft while Lucifer was the full-grown wolf that learned to harden its claws and sharpen its teeth. Pups will grow up, and Castiel had already shown signs of rebellion, which can possibly develop over the centuries.

"Michael," implored Castiel, and it came out as a frightened whisper. The fire was closing in on him and soon he would not have space to move. Soon, the fire will kill him.

Nevertheless, Michael continued to look on at his brother in a similar way a judge would measure up a person thrown in front of him. Suddenly, Castiel's unusual brightness did not appeal to him anymore since it was reminiscent of Lucifer's own glorious light. What if Castiel would bring on something horrible in the future – perhaps not another war between the angels, but something else equally or more dire?

The fire in the town was spreading more rapidly. If the flames from the haphazardly created ring will not reach Castiel within the minute, then he would most likely suffer from what was above him instead. Overhead, near the ceiling, was a shelf that held the same properties for holy oil, and it was being consumed by the fire. If the shelf gave way, the ingredients would plummet and land on Castiel. If the ingredients – or the oil, for that matter – hit the fledgling, the flames would cling to him and roast him alive.

Castiel was weeping now, extremely bewildered why Michael was not doing anything to save him and beyond scared that he might die, painfully.

Being the eldest of all the angels, Michael had learned to deal with his siblings in every manner, and that included eliminating a number of them when necessary. It was something he did not, never at all, wanted to do in his existence, but sometimes he had to so he can get rid of the taints in Heaven, to avoid the rotten apples from infecting the pure ones. This was particularly prevalent during the war, not just on the battlefields but also within his own ranks when he suspected a change in loyalty from one of his soldiers.

Should he let the fire claim Castiel, he would be eradicating the likelihood of him growing up to do anything unfavorable; he would be cutting off a stem before it grew any thorns. But then… it would be as if he condemned a soul to Hell without the person committing a single sin yet. And the one thing that Michael loathed more than any other was killing his family.

The shelf broke. The ingredients fell.

Michael produced a hasty, miniature earthquake that made a crack in the ground where the wonky ring of holy fire was, effectively breaking it. He scooped Castiel into his arms and flew them out of the house before the ingredients even connected with the floor.

"I got you. It's alright. I got you, everything will be alright." Michael cooed as his brother clung to him tightly, luminous tears still falling from his eyes.

O_x

Dawn came, and Michael and Castiel were recuperating near a field where the survivors of the burnt town sought refuge for the night. As the people consoled and took care of one another, Michael did the same to his brother by tending to his wounds. Unlike the humans, Castiel did not suffer from any burns or broken bones, mainly because he had no physical body. Regardless, being kept in a ring of holy fire did an extent of damage to his Grace, so Michael had to replenish and mend it.

Angels did not sleep, although Michael put Castiel in a sort of stasis so that he can work a little faster. Besides, Castiel needed the rest, and Michael supposed that he owed him at least that after almost letting him die. Since they left the town, he had not stopped apologizing to God about nearly killing a sibling; the guilt would haunt him quite a while but he guessed that was what he deserved. He had grown too paranoid over the years, too distant from his own family that he was starting to become blind to the hope that they all carried.

As Michael remedied Castiel's Grace, he unintentionally glanced at the fledgling's most recent memories, and he was surprised to discover that Castiel had given the humans a bit of a helping hand when the town had still been burning. Albeit he did not assist them directly, Castiel had performed other acts of hidden kindness, such as clearing a safe path to the exit for them, and even knocking over a house to pin down the wendigo. It warmed Michael's heart… if he had a real one.

Castiel stirred in Michael's hold, which prompted the latter to gently restrain the other.

"Don't move. I'm not done healing you yet." said Michael. If Raphael was the one doing this, Castiel would be healed by now. Treating injuries had never been Michael's strong point; inflicting them, however, was more familiar to him, and he had to wonder if that was still considered a good thing.

A comfortable, although weary, silence descended on the forest, as if the trees were also recovering from what happened in the town. A couple of people had woken up and were getting ready to start the day and their new lives.

"I'm sorry." said Castiel quietly. "I'm so sorry for everything. I can't do anything right."

Michael paused in his work as he detected severe grief in the fledgling's voice. "It's fine to make mistakes, as long as you learn from them." he said.

He shifted his hold on Castiel so that his brother was curled up on top of his Grace. It was significantly bigger than Castiel's form, but instead of making the light overwhelm him, Michael toned down the intensity of his Grace so that Castiel can be blanketed in the cozy warmth of an archangel's life force. "Do you want to hear a story?" Michael asked.

Castiel peered up at him, like a kitten having its interest piqued, and made a faint noise that implied his agreement.

Settling into a more laidback position, it came upon Michael that he had not done this in a long time, to drop the role of the general and simply be the big brother who wanted his siblings to know that they were loved.

"I know of an angel who, long ago, made a lot of mistakes." he began.

Employing the same physics in creating a rainbow, Michael acquired a bit of sunlight and moisture from the air to be able to draw with light. For his first character, he made use of the green light.

"Now, the reason he made so many mistakes was because he was very afraid." Michael went on.

"Of?" peeped Castiel.

Michael smirked and made the shape of the green light slightly more definite. "Frankly, of everything that can go wrong. Whenever he had to do something, he always feared for the worst. He always expected that he would mess up in one way or another, that everything would be his fault and all the other angels would be disappointed in him." he explained.

With the green light already floating in front of them, Michael created three more lights – a red one, an orange one, and a purple one – and molded the others in a style akin to what he applied to the first.

"He did a lot…" He animated the green light and made it seem like it was carrying a dangerously heavy load. The green light dropped everything and the other three lights appeared to mock it.

"…he did a little…" The green light was tinkering with something while the other three lights started circling it in an exuberant manner, as if they thought that whatever the green light was doing was silly. The green light became flustered and hid from them, far away.

"…but in the end, because of his constant fear of doing something wrong, he became nervous and unfocused, and so he failed." The green light zoomed around for a moment in a complicated series of loops and zigzags, then it faltered and crashed into an imaginary ground.

Castiel crept toward the green light in anticipation. "What happened to him? Did he ever get better?" he asked.

"Yes, he did. He soon realized that, in order to fix this, he had to stop pushing himself too hard. God created him in a certain way, but he kept trying to be more than that, and he simply couldn't be someone he was not." said Michael.

The green light got up from where it had fallen and flew to where the other lights were.

"He did not just cause damage, he was also hurting those around him. So that was when he decided to… let go. Not completely, but just enough. He stopped imagining worst case scenario after worst case scenario, and instead concentrated more on what was actually happening, what had to be done, who were going to be affected. Should something happen, then he will react to it. In the meantime, it's important to focus on what's ahead of you first." said Michael.

The green light rejoined the red, orange, and purple lights. All four came together and united to bring forth a big white light, which hovered in front of Castiel's face for a moment before vanishing like a mist.

Michael commenced stroking Castiel's wings in a soothing way; they were still rather downy, and it would be quite a while until his wings become totally mature. "The point is… I see that you're trying, that you're honestly doing your best and have no intention of causing harm." he told him sincerely. "However, I also noticed that you're being pushed too hard, and we're both to blame for that. So I want to say that I, too, need to apologize… for everything." he added.

This time, Castiel looked up at Michael and the expression he was wearing was a mixture of disbelief and compassion. Disbelief because an archangel – the highest of all archangels – had apologized to someone like him. It was simply inconceivable for an archangel to express humility for the sake of a fledgling, and for Castiel, it felt like such an honor, such a blessing, to be regarded this way. And compassion because, somehow, he understood; he heard the words that went unsaid and he loved his brother enough to grant him immediate forgiveness.

A shy yet tender smile lit up Castiel's face, and Michael found himself returning the gesture. All was well between them. Castiel appeared to have something on his mind, but his attention switched to the direction of the humans.

"Michael, look," he muttered happily.

Michael tracked where Castiel's vision was and his eyes landed on a family of three: a father, mother, and their infant daughter. It occurred to Michael that this was the same group of people he saw in the town before it burned down; the parents who were trying to teach their child how to walk. Even after their home and belongings turned to ashes, they still held onto the precious moments of their lives. This time, the child was taking her very first wobbly steps; her father was behind her and her mother was eagerly waiting for her with open arms.

"She's walking." commented Castiel.

After staggering a bit, the child finally closed the distance between her and her mother. Both parents embraced one another and cheered at the achievement of their daughter. Despite their homeless situation right now, these people still had much reason to celebrate life.

Michael noticed how pleased Castiel was at this development. "Do you like the humans?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir. Very much." answered Castiel.

"Why?"

Castiel watched the family for a few more seconds before he was able to gather the proper words. "It's just… despite their faults, they're still God's creations." he replied, not taking his eyes off them. "They try to be better every day of their lives, even though they just live for a short while. They still try; they want to make a difference, they hope." Castiel turned to face Michael. "They're fascinating." he concluded.

Upon hearing those words, Michael recognized the key difference between Lucifer and Castiel, and that was their opinion concerning humanity. Lucifer despised them, whereas Castiel was in awe of them. It was the sole factor that abolished Michael's fears once and for all, and he felt a great surge of relief wash over him.

"What if I tell you that I just discovered your title?" said Michael.

Castiel's eyes widened and he clambered off Michael in shock. "How? I haven't done anything right yet." he said.

"You've been doing something right this whole time."

Michael recalled the past trials that Castiel had gone through: the incident at the church brought laughter back to a bunch of men who had experienced nothing but sorrow over the last couple of months; for the second trial, saving the lizard might have saved the lives of the future settlers of that land; for the third trial, the rowdy children ought to cause less trouble by now; with the deer, they will provide warm coats for the humans who were endeavoring to survive in the cold wilderness; and lastly, with the town that had been devoured by flames, the former inhabitants will be able to value what was truly important in life, such as love and family. Castiel certainly made mistakes, but those mistakes bloomed into a more profound treasure.

"A lot can happen in a day. A new chapter of life can start, an adventure can fall into place, a tree can grow, a hard lesson can be learned, a bond can be formed and strengthened, a promise can be fulfilled – the possibilities are infinite. It may not always be what you had planned, but whatever happens will always be unique." explained Michael.

He leaned in closer to Castiel, as if to tell a secret. "A day is precious, because no matter how big or small something is, it is bound to happen and exist one day." he said. Michael paused and allowed himself to smile. "Would you like to be an angel of a day?" he asked.

Apparently, it was possible for Castiel to look more bewildered. "I don't…" His voice trailed off. In spite of his best efforts to conceal his emotions, Michael can see them flicker as openly as watching butterflies in a flower garden. Castiel was thrilled, perplexed, grateful, skeptical, as well as many other things, and the unexpected burst of emotions was beginning to overwhelm him.

"What day?" Castiel eventually asked, slowly on his way to accepting that this was actually, finally, happening.

"There are seven days in a week." stated Michael. "I sense that Thursday works best for you." he replied after mulling it over.

"Thursday?" repeated Castiel, his head tilting.

"The day of changes and travel… Thursday's child has far to go. I believe someone will make a poem in the future with those words." remarked Michael. He shook his head because he really had to stop giving bits of the future away. "'Far to go' because you will have to go through many obstacles, but the rewards will definitely be worth those challenges." he clarified.

The shock had yet to disappear from Castiel's expression, and now he was merely staring at Michael, dumbstruck, like he had yet to wrap his mind entirely around this reality. Michael chuckled and rose to his full height, which seemed to startle Castiel out of his trance.

He extended an open palm and bathed Castiel in a gently refreshing beam of iridescent light. "Congratulations… Castiel, Angel of Thursday. I hope you serve Heaven well." said Michael.

Like with their first encounter in Michael's chamber back in Heaven, Castiel was so stunned with what was going on that he nearly forgot to kneel and ceremonially show his respect and gratitude. "Th-Thank you, sir. I'm deeply honored." said Castiel, and the tremble in his voice betrayed the fact that he was barely able to repress the joy he was feeling.

Michael closed his palm and the light faded. "Arise, Castiel. You must prepare yourself for the work ahead of you." he said.

"What should I do?" asked Castiel a tad apprehensively.

"Whatever you believe you have to." replied Michael. Castiel would be in charge of his own courses of action from now on; there will be no one to tell him how to do his job as the Angel of Thursday because that would be his own field.

A large smile etched itself onto Castiel's features, which Michael returned with a thoughtful nod. In a wordless understanding, they both decided that it was time they went back to Heaven; besides, there were other fledglings who currently had no titles.

"Sir, you never told me the name of the angel in your story." Castiel piped up in midflight.

For a second, Michael considered not to divulge the information to him. "Do you want to know?" he queried.

"Yes, sir." responded Castiel.

Michael let out a short laugh and flew a little further ahead of him so neither of them would see the other angel's reaction. "Me." he said.

Even without glancing behind him, Michael knew that Castiel was more than surprised by the revelation. "Don't tell anyone. This is simply between us." added Michael. After all, he had a reputation to keep.

"You have my word, sir." said Castiel seriously.

Michael could not help but smirk. Not even an hour had passed and the Angel of Thursday had already promised him something. There would certainly be a bright future ahead of him.

Fin (for this mini-story).