Keep telling me it gets better

He leaned back against a tree, lifting a water bottle to his lips to quench his thirst. He’d been searching the woods for a few hours now, trying to find a girl who went missing a few days ago. He looked at the post again, at the image of her. He was afraid that something bad had happened, that she wasn’t alive anymore. It wasn’t more than a week ago that he’d discovered two dead bodies in the forest. He crushed the paper a bit as he looked up, wondering if there was something he’d missed. The police hadn’t been able to give him any details, they hadn’t even had the resources to look for her. There were many missing person reports that were filed each week. He looked a bit around him, noticing the change of colors in the leaves because of the sunset. It meant he had a bit more than an hour to search before it got dark. Before finding anything would get harder.

He heard leaves rustling in the distance, making him put away the water. He took out his gun, pointing it low at the ground as he slowly walked towards the sound. “Hello?” he said, strengthening his grip around the handle, thinking that it was more likely to be an enemy or predator rather than something harmless.

Cassandra had been wandering the woods for hours. Why? She wasn’t sure. It just felt better, out in the open. She couldn’t return to face the guys yet, as they would act all careful around her. It would make her feel even worse. Although her body was beaten and broken, she moved with nimble elegancy as she walked on the forest bed with her shoes. Although it had been days since the assault her body ached and still showed clear marks of the beating, she had received. Her nose was still broken and her nails on her fingers still had not grown back out, making her wear a brown thick cardigan that had sleeves long enough for her to hide her hands in so that she didn’t have to explain the missing nails.

She was walking in her own pace, listening to the sounds the woods were sharing with her. It had been far too long since she had been out here, just connecting with the nature she belonged with. She placed a hand on a tree as she passed it, whispering in an ancient tongue to the spirit of the tree. All of a sudden, she heard someone speaking - and although it was only one word, she froze. She moved behind a tree, hiding from whoever had decided to venture out into the forest few hours before dusk, when the woods would be treacherous.

He sighed silently when no one replied his hello. It seemed that it had been nothing, but he kept walking just to be sure. He was always expecting the unexpected. He passed a few more trees before he stopped, then he turned around and got a glimpse of a woman. “It’s okay,” he said, putting his gun away at knowing what had made the sound. He'd understand if she’d gotten scared from seeing a stranger with a gun. Anyone would be. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, walking a few steps closer to her. His angelic aura would give her a sense of safety, making his words seem truthful. As he got a look at her face, he realized she wasn’t the girl who was missing and stopped. He wondered what she was doing out here on her own. The forest wasn’t a safe place to be, but since she was anyway, he assumed she could fend for herself if danger arrived. “Do you live in the woods?” he asked, thinking that perhaps she could be helpful in his investigation. “I was looking for someone,” he continued, taking out the crumbled piece of paper with the missing woman’s photograph. “A missing woman,” he added, before holding up the paper so she could see her face. He wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t heard or seen anything, after all he didn’t even know if she was in the forest. He just had a feeling it's where he should be.

Cassandra kept her distance, even as the man approached. His voice, even though it tried to make her feel a bit more at ease, she still kept the distance between them. One step too close and she would disappear deeper into the woods, leaving him with no way of finding her unless she wanted to be found.
‘’That seems to be a promise most men make, but few tends to keep,’’ she said, her voice still a bit croaky from the hours she had cried and screamed for help few days before. His question made her furrow her brows. Did she look like a forest dweller? Did she look like she lived away from civilization? Maybe she needed to get take a shower when she returned to the hotel. ‘’No, I don’t live here.’’ She then answered him, still keeping her distance. ‘’You won’t find her here. If she was in the forest, the trees would know,’’ she said, not even looking at the picture. As long as she wasn’t the one people were looking for, she didn’t have to fear being brought back to whatever she had been running from since she entered the woods.
‘’Why are you out here, looking for some woman, this close to dusk? The woods aren’t too pleased with strangers and firearms,’’ she said, keeping her hand on the tree as she stepped out from its shadow, allowing the waning golden rays of the sun land on her; revealing her broken nose and black eye.

He stood still as he knew she’d move away if he stepped closer. He wasn't like most men, but he knew where she was coming from. Anyone had the potential to hurt others and he'd lie if he said he hadn't hurt people for what he believed to be the right reasons. “Yeah well... I guess you just have to trust me,” he said. He nodded once when she explained she didn’t live here. He suppose that was a good thing. He frowned slightly when she talked about the trees as if she could speak to them. “Really?” he asked, looking at the many trees surrounding them. He put away the note, thinking that he had no reason to stay in the woods then. He looked back at the stranger when she asked him a question. “Because it’s my job... I can’t help to think that she’s suffering somewhere. That her family won't find peace before they know what's happened to her,” he answered. As to the woods, he didn't think there was anything to worry about.
As she stepped into the light, his face changed expression, noticing the bruises on her face. “How did that happen?” he asked with sadness in his eyes, wishing he could take away the pain he knew she was feeling. He took a step closer to her, wanting to get a better look.

‘’Trust is earned, not gifted,’’ she replied, as he said that she would have to just trust him. How naïve he was to think that just because he asked her to, she would trust him. The conversation moved to the trees letting them know it other were there. They had not, so no one was around. The only reason she had not known about him in the first place had been because she had been busy absorbing the peaceful atmosphere of the woods to even listen to the trees as they warned her. She nodded slightly, confirming that what she had just said was true.
‘’Your job? So, your job is to hunt down missing people using a gun?’’ she asked, raising her brow. However, before she had gotten an answer, he had noticed her face as the sunrays lit up her face. ‘’I fell down the stairs,’’ she lied, backing a step as he moved closer to her, allowing the sunrays to leave her face in the shadows once from the canopy once more. Of course it was a lie, but telling a stranger about the assault wouldn’t be wise. He could easily be one of Jasper’s employees, and then she would be even more inclined to run off once more. She did not want to return to the mafia in this state. She needed to leave it all behind for a while first.

“I can only ask that you give me a chance to earn it,” he said. From the way she spoke, he knew it meant that many people had let her down in the past, given her no reason to trust strangers. It was only a good thing. He knew many angels who'd gotten hurt from being too credulous, trusting strangers or believing in the lie that there was good in everyone.
He smiled briefly at the way she asked him about his job. He used his light manipulation to strengthen his aura, lighting up the woods around him as his gaze stayed with her. “Not quite… but besides my responsibilities as an archangel and commander of the Host.. I’m on earth to serve humans, to save people and fight evil,” he answered, looking a bit away from her, towards the distant sound of the river. He wouldn’t expect her to understand what his job consisted of, but that’s what he was created to do. “What is your job?” he then asked, retuning his gaze to her.

He stopped walking, when she stepped back. He narrowed his eyes slightly at her answer, thinking that she probably lied. He hadn’t met many people who wouldn’t let an angel get close to them and whatever her reason was, he figured it had something to do with the bruises. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, considering whether he should summon an angel to heal her broken nose and wounds. However, he doubted that she’d even let him.

She didn’t comment on his plead for allow him to earn her trust. That would crave a great deal, considering that she had just gone through what she considered the closes thing to hell. The sudden strengthened amount of light made her squint her eyes a bit, before she shook her head as he explained. ‘’So… You’re an archangel.’’ She stated, sounding quite unimpressed. She didn’t mind angels, she just had not spoken to one for many years. The last one she had known had been a fallen angel, being down on his luck and needing help, until he decided to rob her blind. She didn’t have much regard for angels after that. However, archangels were of a higher rank, leaving her to feel slightly ashamed that she had lied to him about her injuries.

‘’I’m not sure… It’s complicated at the moment,’’ she admitted, as she looked back at the man in front of her. ‘’Could you just… Keep your distance, please?’’ she asked, looking slightly apologetic at him. She didn’t want to come cross as a rude person, but she had gotten too close to comfort once too many times, and she needed the comfort of distance for a while. ‘’Wait… If you’re an archangel… Then you’re either Michael or Gabriel.’’ She said, looking directly at him with a careful gaze. She had been raised not to speak of the higher powers of the Christian protestant church, as her mother was raised as a pagan. She could almost feel the beating with the ruler over her fingers for even thinking of the religion she had been raised to oppose.

He wanted to help her, but it was hard when she wouldn’t let him get close to her, so he just hoped her injuries didn’t hurt as much as it looked like they did. He tilted his head slightly, wondering if she was a creature that disliked angels. A witch, perhaps. They usually weren't fond of anything holy. He couldn’t really tell species other than demons and the one’s with distinctive features. Either way, it didn’t seem like she was used to being around angels. It was a sad thing, really. There wasn’t as many of them on earth as there used to be.

He didn’t know what was complicated about it, but he figured she wasn’t going to tell him if he asked. He narrowed his eyes and was a bit confused when she asked him to keep his distance. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked before walking backwards a few steps. He looked up to the tree crowns to see if there was an opening for him to ascend into the sky. Then she told him to wait, and he looked back at her, curious to know why that mattered. “I'm Michael,” he said, looking at her with a warm gaze. “Are you religious?” he asked, wanting to know if she had faith in God.

She looked at him, as he asked if she wanted him to leave. She was about to deny it, when he heard her statement and answered with his name. She nodded calmly, making things a bit easier for her since she now knew his name. “I’m Cassandra,” she replied, in pure politeness. It was rude not to exchange names when one had already done so.

Then, the question lead to religion, making the with hesitate for a moment. Was she? She wasn’t a Christian, so... she did of course know that their God was as real as hers gods and goddesses, or else Michael wouldn’t be standing there right in front of her.
“I was raised by a pagan,” she explained. “I have yet to find my own religion,” she said, slightly apologetic. “I could ask you the same, but doubting your creator and master would surely not be accepted as an archangel?” She guessed; he tone of voice lightened ever so slightly as she surely felt more comfortable with him now that she knew a bit about who he was. She didn’t know enough to trust him, since that took quite a lot, but she knew enough to not fear him being in cahoots with Jasper or the mafia she had left behind for now.

He had encountered some lesser gods throughout his existence, but what really mattered to him was if she believed in his father. “I see... so you never pray?” he asked, trying to understand if she had no faith. He looked at her with a thoughtful expression, wondering whether she believed God wouldn’t accept doubts. After all, doubting wasn’t the same as defying. “Of course I have doubted my father. His plan for me and this world… How he could stand by and do nothing when I’ve sacrificed everything for his causes,” he said before he sighed and looked up at the sky. Michael knew his father had been involved with humans, ages ago, teaching and punishing them, but he'd told him that it always stayed the same, that being over-involved hadn't helped, so he stepped away. Instead Michael and his angels were sent to earth in his absence. “I may not agree with everything, but I have to believe… I need to have faith that everything will play out the way it’s supposed to. That’s why I will do as he commands, serving him above Heaven and Earth. I've never had a doubt in my mind about that,” he explained. He knew everyone had a destiny and that bad things would come to those who tried to change it. That's why he had to be strong in his faith.

“I pray every day,” she then admitted, as she looked at the archangel. She looked shortly at the tree where he pals still rested. It was no lie; she did pray. She never had a name on who she prayed to, but she did pray none the less. “Father?” She mumbled, rather surprised. She want raised with the Christian faith, so she was not fully aware of how it all was connected. She walked a step closer, showing him that she did not fully distrust the man in front of her. “Doubting ones parents is a part of growing up, I’ve been told,” she said, smiling carefully at him to show that she meant no offense by her words.

“I would love to trust that everything had a plan and a purpose. I just have a hard time understanding if that’s the case, and what purpose someone up there thought raping me would serve!” She said, somewhat absentmindedly as she looked up at the sky where Michael had looked moments ago. She didn’t even think further about the fact that she had just admitted that it wasn’t a fall down the stairs that left her looking like this. She was way too busy considering how someone as mighty as a god thought it reasonable to put her such vile things.

He hadn’t guessed that she prayed without a religion, but perhaps she was just hoping anyone would listen. He knew that God had listened to her, forgiven her for her sins, if that’s what she’d asked of him. “What do you pray for?” he asked, sincerely interested in knowing what she wanted.
He didn’t know why she questioned Michael calling God his father, but he assumed it was because she didn’t know much about Christianity or angels. “I see him as my father since he created me,” he explained. He’d been like a father in many ways. He’d given him responsibility for his siblings, praised him, loved him and punished him. Once he'd even created a world for Michael to rule, although it was nothing but an apocalyptic world now. “I guess you’re right about that,” he said, smiling for a short moment as he thought about his daughters and how many questions they’d asked. “Do you have any children?” he asked.

It was only positive that she wanted to believe that everything had a purpose. Most of the time he met resistance against that belief. His gaze stayed with her as she admitted to being raped, feeling like the world froze around him. It was an unforgivable act, one he’d sent many people to hell for. He stepped a few steps closer to her, most of all wanting to embrace her and give her some comfort, but he stopped himself as she’d asked for distance earlier. “I’m deeply sorry to hear that,” he said almost breathless. He looked at her bruises, quickly getting the connection to where those probably came from. “I will personally drag that son of a bitch to hell,” he said, looking into her eyes with an endless compassion. “You might find it hard to believe, but I promise you it’s going to be okay… that good things will come,” he said before looking a bit away from her, into the darkness of the woods. “And just know that I'm here if you ever need to talk,” he said.

It was hard for her to accept that something - or someone - spoken of to be such a kind and loving entity - would allow his creations to be assaulted, raped and tortured. It felt like that no matter the description of Michael’s father, it always involved him being just and making sure people got judged for their deeds. She couldn’t believe such an omnipotent force - but she did believe that the Christian God existed. She would never anyone’s beliefs. ‘’I would tell you, but wishes don’t come true if you share them,’’ she said, smiling slightly at the archangel, showing him that she was being a little bit of a joker. She did not mean any harm by it - she only meant that she couldn’t - or wouldn’t - tell him right away. As he explained that he saw the man that created him as his father, she nodded. That was how it typically was, wasn’t it?

The subject of their conversation took a sharp turn towards something she had a hard time talking about; her lack of children. She swallowed hard, as his question had been said with a genuine curiosity and not anything else. He didn’t ask to hurt her, yet all she felt was pain; in her brain, in her heart and in her bone. She felt her body ache from the assault and her heart ache for the memory of her stillborn son. ‘’I… No. I don’t.’’ she said, looking back at Michael with glazed-over eyes, as treacherous tears formed; threatening to stream down her cheeks if she didn’t manage to pull herself together.

As he had heard her mentioning the rape, he stepped closer. As soon as she realized why, she covered her torso completely by the cardigan she was wearing; hiding away the aching body underneath. ‘’Don’t bother… I’m sure I’ll meet him there when time comes,’’ she said, looking at Michael with a careful expression on her face. ‘’After all, isn’t that where witches go, according to the Christian church? Hell?’’ she asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. She wasn’t even ‘just’ a witch, she was also partially draconian; a species not even made in this world. She had no place in a sacred afterlife; she was doomed to purgatory for her sin of even existing. Or, that was what she had been taught that the Christian church thought of her kind; witches.

‘’Good things doesn’t come, Michael.’’ She then said, shaking her head. ‘’if they did, they would have presented themselves by now. Instead, I was born into abuse and assault. I would love to think of fate as benevolent and kind, but that would be too much for me. I’m too used to being the one hurting, aching and praying for jut about any entity to hear my screams and help me. Good things… They’re reserved for good people.’’ She said, sighing - acknowledging the fact that she wasn’t able to live a happy life, solely because she didn’t think she deserved it.

He wasn’t so sure about wishes not coming true if you shared them, but he respected that she didn’t want to tell him. He probably couldn’t grant it, but it was always interesting to hear what people wished for, how they saw a better life and world to be. He could tell that the talk about children was an emotional topic and just nodded when she said she didn’t have any, thinking that perhaps they’d died. He sent her a doubtful look when she said she’d meet him in hell, then he lifted his chin as she asked him a rather difficult question. Truth was he couldn’t be sure where she’d end up, unless he was with her at the time of death. “I save witches’ souls from time to time,” he answered, letting her know that it was possible for witches to go to heaven, but he would be lying if he said a lot of witches went there. In the end it all depended on their actions in life, if they'd stayed away from the dark arts and they’d believed in God.

He narrowed his eyes a bit as she opposed his words, listening carefully to her. “Well perhaps they’ll take a while to come, but I know they will… No one deserves the suffering you’ve been through,” he said, firmly believing in that. There must be a reason that he was here now, right? To help her in some way. “And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to drag you out of that suffering… I wish I could save everyone, but I can’t,” he said. He’d always had a hard time coming to peace with that, but it was the truth. Sometimes people didn’t want to be saved, sometimes they were past saving and other times, he simply hadn’t been in the right place at the right time. For a long time, no one had come to her rescue. There was nothing fair about that. He just had to believe that there was a plan with it, that she wasn't meant to suffer for an eternity. “What makes you think you aren’t good?” he asked, wondering if she got the idea because other people told her so, or because she’d done acts to prove she wasn’t.

As the archangel mentioned that he saved the soul of witches from time to time, she almost felt it as a slap to her face. Not because she had been wrong; she was used to that. It was the way of saying it - like he did it only when he please. She knew the bargain; the witch had to believe in God, resign her contract with the Devil himself and keep away from the dark magic; the magic she was raised to use. The magic she had used more than once in her pathetic life.
‘’Don’t you find it unfair? Someone else judging when someone had been good enough in their lifetime?’’ she asked; her tried drying up as she couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed by the archangel for his point of view. No one could judge her for her actions - she knew where she was heading, and she had come to terms with it a long time ago.

‘’I find it to be a repeating pattern of your God. People that go through suffering that seems terribly cruel, to prove their love and devotion to him. I would put it another way; your God can keep his Heaven and Paradise. I’m busy enough staying alive, no thanks to Him, to even be bothered thinking about if my actions could be perceived as anything good or bad.’’ She said, this time finally speaking with more than just a subtle voice of a squeaking mouse. ‘’You are right. You weren’t there to drag me out - but it wasn’t your job either. You can’t be everywhere, and even if you could, you would lose some on the way. I’m used to slipping through the cracks, so…’’ she said, looking at him with a little crooked smile; assuring him that she thought no less of him for not having helped her. She had not even been sure of his existence until now.
‘’Well, you’re and archangel, so telling you would probably get me in trouble up there,’’ she said, pointing towards the sky for a moment. ‘’Anyway… I have committed just about every one of the seven sins, I think - if that counts for not being good. I use dark magic to survive and enact my revenge on those that did me wrong, and I killed a man using magic.’’ She said, not even ashamed of it; though, not really proud either.

“No, Cassandra. I don’t think that’s unfair,” he answered calmly. If no one judged souls, then there was no salvation or peace for those who’d been good in their life. In worst case it would result in another war in Heaven. “Sometimes people die without confession or contrition for sins, but one can’t expect pardon for sin without repentance,” he explained, hoping that she understood that his judgement wasn’t completely unfair. “I mean you’ve seen the evil of this world… There’s no evil in Heaven, there’s no disobedience to God. That’s why many souls don’t belong there,” he said, but he also understood that it was difficult to be on the other side of that - to believe that there wasn't peace for them after death.

He listened patiently, trying to sympathize with her point of view, despite the way she spoke of his father. “You’re in despair,” he said, feeling like she’d lost hope in God. Survivors were often the ones who were meant to do something greater with their life. He shook his head slightly as she said she’d probably get in trouble for telling him, because he knew he wasn’t going to let that happen. He simply couldn’t believe that she’d deserved to go through more pain. The horror she’d been through should already have made up for her previous sins and crimes.
“The seven sins can be forgiven,” he said, letting her know that they didn’t solely determine whether a person was good or bad. She then admitted to using dark magic, seeking avenge and committing murder. He looked a bit away from her at knowing this, but he knew her moral compass wasn’t as dark as she made it sound like. “If you do an action believing it’s just, then it isn’t bad. Many believe murder to be evil, but it’s circumstantial. I have killed many times in self-defense or as a just punishment. I have murdered evil beings who use tyrannical and brutal force to take innocent lives… and although murder rarely is the right solution, it is sometimes the only way,” he said, knowing that it was hard for many to understand this. However, fighting evil was a major part of what he was created to do. He had a whole army to prove that.

She did not share his point of view. Although he tried to make her understand, all she saw was someone dictating what was right or wrong, only to judge who would be the selected few to enter some Paradise. She understood their attraction of living a life in awe for a God, if it meant being promised something almost utopian in return. However, to her, the appeal was lost, just as she was herself. In honesty, the archangel’s words only made her feel even more out of touch with the religion - even slightly vexed with it. Why? Why should it be so?

‘’Your God have never been fair to me. Your God picked me up, brushed me off and kicked me back to the curb. Your God left me with a dead son in my womb. I cannot - I will not - act like that might have a greater purpose.’’ She said, now looking directly into the eyes of the archangel in front of her. She had been tired of apologizing or beating around the bush about what had happened to her. She was tired of hiding her pain and suffering just as much as she had had enough of listening to someone justify judging someone solely on their actions.

‘’I might have been raised to despise your God and all he stands for, but that’s not the case. I simply can’t find it fair or even remotely acceptable that some entity decides what’s going to happen to me. I don’t want to go to Heaven or Paradise. I don’t want to be judged on the actions I’ve done to survive. When I die, my flesh will rotten and my mind blacken, just as my faith in your God did after he had proven to have forsaken me entirely. You asked what I prayed for, archangel. I pray that I may find peace in my tomb and that I might see my son again in death. Those are my wishes, as morbid as they may be.’’ she said, not removing her eyes from his. Slowly, her eyes revealed that underneath the dark brown hue, something golden shined. Gold mixed with blood - like her life had been. Magic radiated from her, as she removed the hand from the tree, only to reveal that her hand had marked the tree with a scorched handprint.

‘’I know your God exists. I would never doubt that. I just don’t like him.’’ She said, her lips being curled to a slightly unpleasant smile. She needed to accept that no one was going to save her from her life. No one was going to help her find piece. All she had, was the death that waited for her with a great hunger from being cheated one too many times.

Her reaction was natural, he’d been confronted about God and his religion many times. “You’d be surprised to know all the bad things that happen to those with the greatest purpose and yet they still keep going... You don’t think I’ve been through hell and back a million times? You don’t think I’ve seen loved ones dying right in front of me? You’re not the only one who feels like God isn’t fair and you’re certainly not the last,” he said, looking into her eyes. Did she think God had always been fair to him? People assumed his privilege saved him, but it wasn’t like that. He always paid the price. He shook his head as she kept saying she didn’t find it fair. “He doesn't decide every detail about anyone's life, he doesn’t control what others do to you… you have to stop thinking like that,” he said. Honestly it sounded like she’d forsaken God more than he’d forsaken her.

He hadn’t expected her prayers to be about that and he thought about it for a moment, but then it all seemed to make sense. “You don’t want to be saved,” he said with a thoughtful expression. “Because inside you’re already dead,” He didn’t want anyone to feel that way, but it’s what it sounded like. That she had a hard time finding any joy in this life, and he couldn’t blame her for that. Not with all the things she’s been through. His face changed expression as her eyes changed color, then he looked to the tree where her hand had left its mark. “What are you doing?” he asked, wondering why her magic was showing, if perhaps she was getting angry with him. Dark magic was one of the only things that could weaken Michael, so it made him take a step back as he kept his gaze with her.

“I understand that, but don’t lose hope... however doubtful the future may seem, things will get better… and everything will make sense in the end,” he said. It was the feeling he had anyway, although he couldn’t be sure of the meaning.

All of a sudden, it was about him and his idea about his father not being fair. She just stood there, still with her eyes fixated on him, as he spoke of losing loved ones and travelling to Hell and back. She grinded her teeth, as he seemed to miss the point; in this, he was the devil’s advocate. She didn’t hate his God, she resented him. He had never shown himself to her, why should she even care if he existed? She had begged every night back in that hell-hole of an apartment for God to make her stepfather go away or make her mother love her. He had never shown any sign of hearing her. One day, she had just stopped praying to him.

‘’I don’t have to do anything,’’ she responded, as they archangel told her to stop thinking like God controlled other’s actions. Then, it seemed like he understood. It seemed like it finally clicked with him, as the puzzle started to make sense. No, she didn’t want to be saved. Salvation wasn’t her wish. She breathed shallowly, as she tried to remain calm, although it did little to prevent her magic from getting out of hand. Luckily, she didn’t use magic all that often, resulting in it needing to quite the heavy amount of rage needed to make her magic run wild. ‘’I must be,’’ she said, as he stated that she already was dead on the inside. ‘’How could I not be, when all life inside of me dies?’’ she asked, almost rhetorically. She had wished oh so many times that Calsifer was alive and all had been a dream. A wish that would never come true.

Then, the archangel looked at the place her hand had been, while the expression on his face changed. Was he scared of her? No, an archangel would never be scared of a witch - let alone a witch so beaten and broken. He took a step back, making her tilt her head slightly. His question, she didn’t answer. Instead, she listened to his next words, before the smile on her curled lips disappeared. ‘’Are you seriously telling me that I should keep on hoping that some old man in the sky would grant me a better life!?’’ she asked, bewildered by his statement. Of course, she was angry, and it showed, as she stepped closer to him; leaving the grass underneath her feet scorched. Her eyes quickly flared up, changing to those mimicking her other half of the gene-pool; a draconian. To those that feared demons, those eyes could remind one of Hell easily. She approached him even further, as she seemed to have gotten past the shyness of her beaten face. She had momentarily forgotten.

‘’Nothing makes any sense! And do you know why?! Because it’s not meant to make sense! It’s not meant to make any fucking sense, when someone is beaten, raped or broken! It’s not meant to make sense to lose a child or see your mother break down and die! Nothing makes any sense, and I’m so sick and tired of people telling me that things will get better, because they never fucking does!’’ she snarled, still walking towards him. Then, she stopped - just as her voice silenced. She just stood there; the anger so overwhelming that all she could do was look at him with her golden-red eyes as they filled with tears and her lip began to tremble. Things didn’t get better. They never did. She was stuck, and she had no idea on how to get out of that curb. All she could do was run away from her pain and hurt as she had always done.

She grinded her teeth as her jaw tightened to prevent tears from falling down her cheeks. She looked at the archangel in front of her, as she slowly realized how monstrous she must have looked; leaving a scorched trail and sporting glowing golden-red eyes. She then shook her head. ‘’You can keep your God, Paradise and salvation… I don’t want it…’’ she then said, her voice finding its way back to the shy little mouse. The magic that previously radiated from her seemed to calm itself, as her eyes turned back to a deep brown color. Then, she sighed at herself for letting her emotions run off with her once again, as she shook her head. ‘’Good luck finding the girl… If she’s here, she’s dead.’’ She said, before she turned her back to the archangel and started walking back towards the city, although the trip would be rather long. She didn’t mind the walk.

He looked at her with a serious expression, when she told him she didn’t have to do anything. He couldn’t help someone who wouldn’t at least try to follow God’s words, but it was her decision. He knew he’d failed. He'd let his own emotions get in the way of saying the right things. He knew other angels would have been better at convincing her. He sighed when she confirmed she must be dead on the inside. “I get it,” he said in a low voice, thinking about the things she’d mentioned. He constantly felt like there was no joy in his life, that it was nothing but pain, horror and death. It seemed like she felt the same way.
He stood still as she approached him, almost expecting her to cast a spell or be physical, which he hoped to God she wouldn’t. It would only end badly for her. He knew that everything would make sense, but she was obviously tired of hearing that. “This is about your life. Don’t you think losing hope is the same as giving up?” he asked as he looked into her golden, red eyes. He sympathized with her, feeling her pain as the tears filled her eyes. Shaking his head lightly as she said she didn’t want any of it because it still seemed like she needed it. “What do you want?” he then asked. He didn’t want her to lose hope, he wanted her to have some sort of dream for the future.

He looked at her back as she turned away and started walking, then he looked away from her as he breathed out. He didn’t have heightened senses, so he didn’t plan on spending the night looking for the missing girl. He’d just end up missing clues. “Cas- wait,“ he then said, walking after her, then looking to her side as he’d caught up with her. “At least let me make sure you get home safely,” he said, feeling bad for leaving her like this. She might want to be alone, but it’s not what she needed. She might not even need to hear anymore of his crap either, but that’s not what he cared about. He just wanted to make sure she didn’t have to walk through the night on her own.

He got it? That was a lie, if she had ever heard one. She didn’t even care to make him elaborate on how he ‘got’ how she felt. It didn’t matter - her feelings didn’t matter. That had been proven to her quite the number of times by now, which lead her to shake her head in a defeated way.
She didn’t answer his question, solely because she didn’t like the answer that would leave her lips. She had given up, only because she saw no purpose in fighting any longer. Tidus was alive, which meant that she had done what needed to be done to get him back. She had messed things up with Bienvido the moment she admitted having tender feelings for him. She had given up on the thought of a better life, because every time it seemed possible, something went wrong - more often than not because of her own fear of things actually going bad. ‘’What I want doesn’t matter anymore,’’ she then said, as she had already turned to walk away. She had no more to say to the angel.
As her nickname rang hollow in her ear, she turned her head slightly. The archangel caught up with her, allowing himself to walk beside her as she set off to return home. Home… a word she barely knew the meaning of any longer. How many years had it been since she had had a home? Right now, it was a hotel room, until she left for Bali; using a fake name to make sure no one sought her out; even Tidus and Bienvido. It pained her to hide from her only friends, but it was needed for her to be able to leave without anyone stopping her. ‘’I guess I can’t stop you,’’ she said, shrugging her shoulders. The truth was that even if she tried to act all tough, angry and scary, she was still so sad and lonely that fighting back seemed impossible. She missed the spirit she had possessed back when Jerry had threatened Bienvido, and Cassandra had fought back as the fierce witch she had been. Now, she was the dying flame of a burned-out candle. So many things could break her completely, leaving her with nothing once more.
‘’I’m sorry about how I spoke of your God… It’s not fair that I judge either you or Him, based on my own tragedy,’’ she finally sighed after a few steps of silence. Maybe, one day, she would stop fearing speaking about her feelings and actually just admit when she needed support. Until then, an apology was the best she could do.

He looked at her with a sad expression when she said it didn’t matter. As if she thought she didn’t matter, that nothing did. She was broken, beaten down, and then she just walked away. Not seeking the comfort of the angel in front of her. Michael had rarely experienced someone react that way.

He kept walking beside of her after she said she couldn’t stop him. He wouldn’t do it if she told him not to. He’d get home faster by flying, but he was happy that she let him. He looked straight in front of them, at the dark woods ahead of them, listening to the sounds of the night, everything feeling a bit more peaceful. He looked at Cassandra when she apologized. He didn’t have any bad thoughts about her, regardless of the things she’d said. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a faint smile before he looked ahead of them again. People judged him all the time, telling him terrible things, but he was judgmental as well. Constantly seeing things as black or white.
“You do matter,” he said after a few moments of silence. He didn’t know what it would take for her to believe that, but he could only hope that one day she would. “And I know how it is, not wanting to feel anything and escape from the pain,” he said. In his existence, he’d seen and experienced things most couldn’t begin to imagine. He never got a chance to talk about those things. He always had to be strong. So that’s what he did. He followed orders and kept on marching until the work was done, no doubts or questions asked. “Anyway, I really do hope things will turn around for you,” he said. He knew that it would take time for her to move forward and finally begin to be happy, but that’s all he could hope for. For her to have a normal life. “Did you grow up around here?” he then asked, interested in hearing more about her story

‘’But I do worry about it. It is not fair to speak of how I feel it unreasonable that someone else judges you, when I do the exact same thing. That is being a hypocrite, and I don’t care much to be such.’’ She said, as they walked. She buried her hands in her pockets, as the cold seemed to reach her fingers far too fast. ‘’I didn’t say that I didn’t matter… I just stated that my wants and wished has not been a priority for a while now. They still aren’t.’’ she sighed, admitting to the fact that she had to consider her priorities. She needed to get away and rethink her life. Every single part of it.
‘’I would ask if you wanted to talk about it, but I don’t seem to be a very good listener, do I?’’ she asked, almost trying to make it sound like a little joke. As they walked, the city could be seen in the distance, getting closer and closer by every step. ‘’Someday, things just might. I just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know?’’ she said, shortly looking at him with a careful gaze. Then, he asked if she had grown up there. She shook her head.
‘’I’m from Edinburgh, Scotland.’’ She said, allowing her Scottish accent to shine through all the way; making her words almost impossible to understand if one didn’t listen carefully or spoke a word of Scottish himself. ‘’But I’ve lived in Edinburg, Dublin and now here… So… Yeah. I would ask about your origin, but isn’t that a story that’s told in the Old Testament or something?’’ she asked, rather curiously. In honesty, she didn’t understand Christianity that well - learning about it might have helped her a bit on the way.

He noticed that she’d gotten cold, so he used his ability to warm up the air around them with a few degrees. It was easy for him to look past her being a hypocrite when she admitted it was wrong. Self-awareness was the first thing someone needed to change their behavior. “I admire you for thinking like that… It’s what a good person would say,” he said calmly, glancing to her before looking up at the street lamps that indicated that a city was near.
He nodded when she explained what it was about. “Alright, but you know... since you did share your prayers with me, you will get one thing you wished for,” he said. It would be a bit nontraditional, but it certainly wasn’t impossible for him to let her see her son when she died. It was the least he could do.  

He looked at her and smiled when she said she wasn’t a good listener. “That’s okay. Sometimes we only hear what we want to,” he said as he moved his eyes away from her. “And I don’t want to talk about it,” he added as he looked at the empty road in front of them. Everyone always asked him how he was doing, and although he was far from okay, he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t see what good that would do. It wasn’t going to change anything. “I know what you mean, but you should take an archangel’s word for it,” he said a bit as a joke. He knew that many people didn’t want to get their hopes up, because then they wouldn’t be disappointed.

He recognized her Scottish accent, smiling a bit at the way she pronounced Scotland. He’d heard many English dialects, not to mention other accents and languages, but many of them were extinct now. “Edinburgh is nice ,” he commented, trying to think back on the last time he visited. It had been at least thirty years ago. “Not quite… I was created long before humans, so how would they even know what to write about my origin?” he said, as it had been humans who wrote the holy bible. It wasn’t like he tried to make himself more known either, because God was the most important for humans to believe in. “I was raised in Heaven, but I’ve visited every part of Earth, not to mention other worlds,” he explained. “Is your job still too complicated to tell me about, or do you not have one at the moment?” he then asked.