The Prophet's Curse

Chapter 1

The dark shape of a man walked across an abandoned street, his quiet footsteps echoing but there was no one to hear. Half his body was lit by the brightness of the full moon, while the other was shrouded in darkness. The hood of his jacket hid his face from view as he walked to the single building still lit: a twenty-four hour diner, appearing to be empty.

He pulled open the door, walked into the diner, and went straight to the counter, where a single employee stood. The woman, with her mousy dark hair pulled back into a messy bun, was wiping down the counter as though in a trance, with her pale eyes staring down at the spot she was repeatedly cleaning despite it being spotless.

The man cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”

The woman flinched before looking up; however, as she looked upon his young and clean-shaven face, it seemed as though life was breathed back into her. She stood straighter, her eyes became a darker, healthier blue, and a gentle pink tinted her cheeks. “Yes, sir?” she asked, a smile gracing her face.

The man returned the smile in kind. “I would like to have a cup of hot chocolate and a cinnamon bun - a hot one, if you would be so kind.”

The woman nodded before she turned and walked back into the kitchen, the cleaning cloth laying forgotten. The man turned and his eyes scanned the empty diner cautiously; but upon his search, he found that it was, in fact, inhabited by another. With a smile of recognition, he walked towards the redheaded woman sitting alone in a corner booth.

He slipped into a spot on the opposite side of the table. “Hello, Lily.”

The woman’s eyes glided to him and a small smile lit up her sharp features. “Hello, Nathaniel. I did not expect to see any siblings here.”

“My new charge is entering this world soon,” Nathaniel said, his hands folding together on the table. “I wish to pass the time.”

Lily looked down at the table, her smile widening slightly. “Yes,” she said. “Time seems to slow in a vessel, does it not?”

“It does. It is a... surreal feeling. I do not usually choose to take vessels.”

Lily nodded. Her eyes drifted up towards the ceiling, the smile fading to a neutral expression. “Heaven seems to be quite in high spirits. Are you aware of what the celebration is about?”

Nathaniel’s eyes widened slightly. “Do you mean... You do not know?”

Lily shook her head, a sad look passing over her face. “I have not been home in quite some time. I’m afraid I am quite behind.”

“The New Prophet is arriving very soon,” Nathaniel said. “My - My new charge, that is. She is the New Prophet.”

Now Lily’s eyes widened as she looked at him. “Your new charge is God’s prophet?”

Nathaniel smiled, his expression both proud and humble. “The one and only. Her birth is set for four hours from now.”

Lily was about to respond when the waitress interrupted them. “Here is your order, sir,” she said, giving Nathaniel a bright smile.

“Thank you,” Nathaniel said.

As she turned and left, Lily took a deep breath. “Then a congratulations is in order, Nathaniel. But I would have thought He would assign an archangel to such an important soul.”

Nathaniel, who had taken a bite of the warm cinnamon bun, chewed and swallowed before rolling his eyes. “That’s what Michael has been saying. Thinks I’m not fit for the job - even went to God Himself to recommend Gabriel, Raphael or himself. Apparently, he believes I’m straying too far to be trusted with such a charge.”

“Straying?” Lily frowned, looking concerned.

“He seems to think I’m headed down Lucifer’s path. That I might Fall if I’m not kept in check.” He ignored Lily’s soft gasp. “I think he’s just becoming jealous that he wasn’t assigned to it. I mean, yes, some of Dad’s ways don’t make sense to me, and there are numerous things that I question, but never would I Fall to Lucifer’s ways.”

“If you say it, I believe you,” Lily said. “But Michael might just be concerned for you as well as the prophet. After all, demons would love to get their hands on her and - “

She stopped there, swallowing before she continued in a quiet voice. “Is that why you’ve taken a vessel?”

Nathaniel looked at the table, avoiding her gaze.

“Demons will come after her. You need a vessel to fight them off.” Her hands clenched into fists on the table. “Let me come. I can help if they decide to show their ugly faces.”

“No, Lily,” Nathaniel said gently. “Michael and Gabriel will be there to stand guard.”

“The more angels, the better - “

“You’re in mourning over your last charge, sister.” He reached across and took her hand in his, squeezing it. “You don’t need any more stress. Go home, enjoy the festivities. All will be well down here.”

Lily looked at him for a moment in silence, then stood with a sigh. “Fine,” she said. “I will... I will see you at home, Nate?”

“You will.” Nathaniel gave her a smile before returning his attention to his now-cool cinnamon bun. He heard a swish of wings and when he looked again, his sister had vanished.

He continued sitting there, finishing his snack as he looked out the window at the blackened sky. The clock of the diner read twelve o’clock; he had three hours and forty five minutes before the prophet was born. Three hours and forty five minutes before all of Heaven was depending on him to protect a child that every demon wanted.

“Nathaniel.”

Nathaniel jerked in surprise, looking up to see a man looking at him; he stood with his arms crossed, wearing a plain white t-shirt beneath a black jacket, dark jeans and brown boots. His hair, a light curly brown, was slightly amiss from wind. “Gabriel,” he greeted quietly, ducking his head instinctively under the intimidating gaze of his older brother.

“Showtime’s early, kiddo,” Gabriel said, a slight smile on his face. “Mike wants you there on watch. Let’s go.”

“One moment,” Nathaniel muttered, standing and walking to the diner’s counter. Fishing $1.50 out of his pocket, he dropped it on the surface before turning to his brother. “Alright... ready.”

“What made you come here?” Gabriel asked, reaching out to set a hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder.

Nathaniel set his other hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, their bodies making a square between them. “Wanted something quiet,” he said, before he was suddenly overflowing with a buzzing energy; he took a deep breath and shut his eyes, feeling his feet lift the ground as Gabriel and his wings pulled them from the diner.

When he opened his eyes, his feet were on the ground again and the foul scent of medicine hit him. They stood side by side in the delivery wing of Saint Brigid’s Hospital and a nurse in scrubs made a startled sound as she jumped out of the way. “Excuse me,” she said in a nasty voice, giving them both an annoyed look.

Gabriel snorted with amusement. “If she only know who we were.”

Nathaniel followed Gabriel down the hallway, past other delivery rooms; he could see that some were occupied by families and others were not. Soon they came to a room at the end of the hall and upon getting a glimpse through the window, Nathaniel could see a woman laying in the bed whilst reading; her husband sat in the chair beside the bed, looking exhausted, while the nine year old daughter was fast asleep beside him.

“Good. You are here.”

Nathaniel turned to face Michael, who wore the vessel of a priest in his thirties, and once again he bowed his head though the archangel’s presence was irritating. He dearly loved every one of his brothers and sisters but Michael’s lack of confidence in him bothered him to no end.

“Have any demons tried to do anything?” he asked.

“No,” Michael said, shaking his head. “We have angels at every exit and entrance, and watching the roads coming in. Whoever has a charge staying here is keeping an eye out and we’ve graffitied the place with every anti-demon symbol there is, but if Lucifer himself decides to make a visit...”

Nathaniel still didn’t meet Michael’s gaze but knew the archangel was looking pointedly at him. “Sounds good,” he said. “Hopefully they’ll be smart and stay away.”

“Are you ready for this, Nathaniel?” Michael asked, a look of concern on his face. “You know how crucial is it that-”

“Yes, brother, I’m ready,” Nathaniel snapped. “Dad gave this to me for a reason. Leave me alone.”

Michael pursed his lips but said no more, looking away before he turned and walked down the hall. Nathaniel crossed his arms, looking into the room; all was going well with the labor, not a single thing wrong. The prophet would be born on time and without a hitch.

Gabriel set a hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder. “Don’t get frustrated with Mike,” he said. “He’s just trying to make sure this all goes smoothly. You know how he is.”

“He thinks I might Fall.” He turned to look at his brother. “Do you?”

Gabriel paused, thinking on his answer. “I think if Dad’s favorite can Fall... Anyone can. But if he thinks you’re drifting, then he has a good reason for questioning your ability.”

“What good reason?” Nathaniel huffed.

“If you were to drift while guarding the prophet... if you did fall to Lucifer’s ways, then what greater gift could you give him than the prophet of God? Michael can’t trust that you won’t Fall and take her with you.”

Nathaniel looked down at his black sneakers, Gabriel’s words sinking in. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said quietly.

Gabriel squeezed his shoulder, and when Nathaniel found the nerve to look up, the archangel was giving him a gentle smile. “I believe you, brother. If you ever need assistance, you know how to find us.”

The tension melted away and Gabriel looked into the hospital room as his hand fell from Nathaniel’s shoulder. “Not long now.”

They stood outside the door in silence and the time ticked by. Upon hearing commotion in the room, Nathaniel quickly turned; the woman lying in the bed had an expression of deep discomfort and the man was taking her hand, the daughter stirring. Two nurses and a doctor turned the corner and came hurrying down the hall. With an uttered word from Gabriel, they walked straight through the angels, and Nathaniel glanced down at his shimmering form before walking into the room.

He watched as Grace Harper Kavanagh, Prophet of the Lord, was born, clothed, and set in her mother’s arms.

Nathaniel walked to the bedside and gazed down at the small infant, deep affection pulsating through him. “Hello, Grace,” he whispered, setting a gentle hand on her cheek.

Grace’s eyes fluttered open and her eyes, green as a forest, focused upon him. Nathaniel leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead; within it was a promise of protection, of eternal love.

Gabriel cleared his throat and Nathaniel looked up to see the archangel looking at Grace with a pleased smile. “That’s my cue to go,” he said. “They’re expecting the confirmation from me. The Messenger, and all that.”

As the archangel disappeared with a flash of feathery golden wings, Nathaniel returned his attention to the child before him, determination flowing through him. He would die to ensure that his charge never came to harm.