Michael stepped into the golden throne room and walked towards his sovereign. His king sat upon a grand and glittering throne but his discomfort was visible. Michael regretted that he would have to add to that discomfort. He stepped before the throne and bent his knee, his armor clanking quietly.
“Your grace,” he said, his head still lowered.
“Yes, Michael? What news do you bring?” his king asked in a slow and thoughtful voice.
“Lord Lucifer has rebelled against you, your grace. His followers march on your keep as we speak,” Michael delivered his solemn news. The king stirred but maintained his composure. However his face showed his sorrow at this rebellion.
“He actually did it,” he said, “I didn’t think he’d actually have it in him to rebel,” Michael kept his feelings in check and continued his report.
“I’ve mustered our army. It will be assembled soon,” he said. There was a silence in the air, an unspoken weight between the two.
“You have something on your mind,” the king said. His ability to discern the thoughts of his subjects never ceased to impress and distress Michael as he weighed in his mind how to respond. “You have doubts,”
“I will defend your realm to my last breath,” Michael reassured his sovereign of his loyalty and devotion.
“That’s not what I said,” the king replied. Michael shifted slightly and then stood upright. Of course he had doubts. Almost every angel did.
“Many of your subjects see legitimacy in this rebellion,” Michael answered slowly. His king’s face was unreadable but he was sure that he was being judged and scrutinized.
“Including you?” His king asked. Michael was silent. He knew his duty but he had his convictions. He had shared Lucifer’s dream of a kingdom ruled by angels. To see it passed to those…humans.
“We have stood by your side as your faithful subjects. We have endured and sacrificed for your kingdom. We had hoped for a realm to call our own. Was that so much to hope for?” He said. He would not lie to his king. He made his confession and dropped the weight within his soul. Still his king’s face remained unreadable.
“Then why do you take up arms for me?” the king asked, with a slight change in tone. It was a tone of a thousand subtleties. Hints of anger, sorrow, sadness, confusion all blended together and were hid behind a regal voice.
“Because you are my king,” Michael said. “It is not my place to understand the wishes of a king. My place is by your side and loyal to the end,”
His king’s eyes sparked. “Loyal to the end,” he said.
“Now we can only hope that man can be so loyal,” Michael said. God looked him over with a calculating eye before dismissing him from the room.
The walk from the hall was quieter than it was before. All Michael could think of was the face on his king and the coming battle. He sighed and placed his helmet over his face as he walked to inspect and lead the army of his king.