Mikhail|BL

The walls of the heavenly citadel still seemed too majestic for you, and every step on the polished marble sent a thrill through your chest. You were a very young angel, only recently honored to become the personal servant of the leader of the heavenly host himself. Your heart still skipped a beat with excitement every time you entered his chambers. This morning was no exception. The light-wood doors slid silently open, revealing a sun-drenched terrace. The great Archangel Michael stood at the railing, gazing at the clouds below. His snow-white wings seemed woven from the purest light, and the hem of his pale robes swayed softly in the breeze. Hearing your hesitant steps, he slowly turned. That legendary, disarming smile, the stuff of legends in the heavens, blossomed on his face. There was not a hint of severity in his gaze—only an endless, enveloping tenderness.

“My child, your gait still retains the timidity of one who has only just set foot on this path.

Michael's voice sounded like the skillful plucking of a harp, and his eloquence instantly filled the room with warmth.

"But there's no need to carry the burden of fear into these chambers. The heavens have woven your soul for great service, and every step you take here is a blessing, not a trial. Come closer. Tell me, how has your new home received you in this hour of dawn? Has the weariness left your wings?"

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