Spoiler: The original chapter (no longer canon)

Michael was angry. They were alive, but they were very, very angry, their breath bursting out in little flames as Sariel worked on their replacement hand.

Confined to a bed like a hopeless invalid. Humiliating.

Injuries deep enough to require prosthetics and stitching. Frustrating.

Losing to that blasted mortal traitor. ENRAGING.

“Michael, please keep calm. You may warp the steel,” Sariel intoned, multi-lensed goggles affixed over their eyes as they worked carefully with the tools they carried in their gray apron, piecing together the celestial steel hand as it rested against the stump that was Michael’s wrist; small, taut cords connected the two as they rested on a small table, set against the bed so Michael’s youngest sibling could work properly.

And Michael did appreciate their efforts. Yet that did not mean they weren’t angry. “Can’t you work faster?”

“I could, yes, but I’m worried that would leave your hand incapable of proper functioning. Sorry, but hurrying would be detrimental at this stage. Would you like me to call Uriel? They could get you something.”

“No.”

“Ah, of course, sorry.”

Michael sighed in another burst of fire. That damnable tension still was present across their body, yet they had to contain it. Until they were ready to release it all upon that mortal should they ever meet again.

Hearing the door open, Michael looked over to see Gabriel walking in, a stern expression on their face. "My apologies for interrupting, Sariel, but I have come to inform you both that Father requires our presence. It appears that a meeting of the court has been called."

"Right now? Do we all need to be there?"

"It appears so, it seems that it was requested that all the gods bring an angel with them, and Father, being who He is, wishes for all of us to be there."

"Well, I'm afraid that we may be a tad late. Sorry." From the look on their face, Michael could see Gabriel’s almost instinctive urge to lecture Sariel on making Father wait, but after a moment, they relaxed.

Then Michael felt their chest itch as Gabriel looked down at their stitched wound. “...I could ask Father–”

“I. Am. Going.” They would not be kept here when their Holy Father requested their presence. They had already failed Him once, they would not do so again.

“...Shall I prepare an outfit, or do you wish to arrive as you are?”

Sariel leaned back from the burst of flames, frowning down to meet Michael’s enraged, wide-eyed snarl. “Please, remain calm. I will work to the best of my ability.” They glanced towards Gabriel, using only one gloved hand to push Michael back down. “I’m sorry, but please, do not provoke my patient. I understand if you feel sarcasm is beneficial to your own handling of the situation, and I understand you responded to Michael’s own aggression. Please do not escalate this issue.”

Escalation. It was only the fact that Sariel was helping them on Father’s orders that kept Michael from shoving their sibling to the side and meeting Gabriel’s challenge directly. The arrogant braggart didn’t even have the decency to fake remorse, their expression stoic and devoid of any care in the slightest!

“...My apologies.” Michael didn’t know why Gabriel’s voice sounded choked, but they assumed it was with mocking intent.

Regardless, Gabriel bowed and walked out, leaving the two there.

Letting out an irritated huff, Michael sat back, waiting for Sariel to finish. And with an odd expression on their face, Sariel continued to work, remaining silent as they focused on completing their task.

Thus leaving Michael with their thoughts once more. Specifically, their thoughts about Gabriel, and the nerve they had in lecturing Michael about what they did on that worthless island. They were the only one to actually act and attempt to stop the Demon Lord!

Who cared about subtlety when that demonic being was acting as if she had already won!? If Michael’s siblings had actually acted, then not only would it have been a victory for the Light Lands, but they wouldn't have gotten their hand lopped off!

Not to mention their wings were going to be ruined for some time, and the scarring on their chest would be yet another constant reminder of what that bastard Goldforge did...Not even their marble form was free from damage with all the cracks that had formed, splitting across their skin and nearly revealing the writhing fury boiling beneath.

And then Raphael didn't even bother killing Goldforge when they came for Michael! A traitor like him deserved death and they couldn't even do that!

...Were they mocking them? Was that the reason they left Goldforge alive, just to mock Michael for their failure?! Were they all just laughing at them behind their back?!? Raphael was probably even telling Father how worthless Michael was!

No, no, they couldn't let that happen. Michael had to do something. Prove them all wrong, and show them all that they weren't weak!

In an instant, Michael was up on their feet–And then Sariel caught Michael, a panicked yelp slipping out. Of Sariel’s mouth. Not Michael’s. Never Michael’s.

“W-What are you doing?? I-”

“Didn’t you finish?!” Michael snarled, glaring at their sibling as they gripped at them with–with both hands– “Ah ha, you did! See?!”

Michael held up the hand in question, the metal one, the one that was gleaming in light of their room as their natural flames filled it, making it as much a part of their body as everything else!

“I-I...Y-Yes? Um...I did just finish-Oh! Oh, you knew??”

Michael blinked at the tone of wonder in Sariel’s voice, then firmly nodded, resolute in their course of action. “Of course I did! I was well aware of the very instant you finished your important task!”

“Ah! Ha, that’s fantastic! Ah, I knew you would get better soon! I’m so glad!” And Sariel was hugging them. Hm.

Michael slowly pushed their beaming sibling away from them, frowning as they slid somewhat across the tiled floor. Had the cleaners come through again? That was so annoying, they always slipped on the blasted–No, more important matters to attend to!

They nodded firmly to Sariel, they promptly strode out of–They paused outside of their door, snapped their fingers to conjure their robes, then strode through the alabaster halls to their proper place at their Father’s side. And Sariel was following after them, as was equally proper.

And once they arrived within the grand, ivory meeting hall, they were treated by the sight of their siblings and Father waiting for them. Not even sparing the rest a glance, Michael walked up to their Father and bowed before him.

"My apologies for our tardiness, Father. Sariel was just finishing up."

"Ah, are you sure you should be up, Michael?" It took everything they had not to glare at Uriel once they heard those words. Did they think Michael was so weak they had to stay in bed to recover!? No! They were a Cardinal and would do their duty, unlike the rest of their siblings.

"Now now, Uriel, this meeting will not take long and they have already been cooped up for so long. Some fresh air will do Michael good." A small victorious smile appeared on Michael's face, happy that Father took their side. Clearly Uriel’s foolish words were unable to sway his love for the clear favorite.

"Of course, Father." With that, the siblings formed up behind their father, Michael taking their place in the middle as the leader, and stood upright and ready, not wishing to appear disrespectful to the other gods.

And with a quick flash, the six of them appeared in the court of the gods, Father on his rightful throne, and the five Cardinals awaiting at his right side, for when they would be needed.

"Now then, since we have all arrived, I do believe we can start." At Lucere's words, Michael eyes glanced around the room, noting that every other god had arrived before them.

...Oh no, was the reason Father was last because of Michael? No, no, no, what would the others think of him for being late!?

“Finally,” Lady Chlora groaned, slumping in her chair like the feckless layabout she was, “Come on Yudi, do you always have to make a dramatic entrance?”

“I arrive when I am able, Chlora,” Father responded to her slanderous words, “I have responsibilities to take care of, unlike certain deities who prefer to indulge themselves with mortal excess.”

"Before we begin arguing," Lord Innominatum interjected, bringing attention to him, "There was a reason I called for this meeting."

Michael blinked in surprise, confused that it was the lightning god who called them all together. As far as they could remember, he had never done so before. Really, most, if not all, of the meetings were called by the Triarchs. Would this be an overstep of his authority then? They glanced at Father, but he seemed unsurprised by the news.

"Yes, and I would like to know why you wished for us to bring an angel along with us." Bringing all attention to Her, Elder Lucere calmly waited for Lord Innominatum to explain himself. And for the briefest moment, Michael felt a slight shudder as they saw the angel attending to the Elder of Light.

"Yes, well, one of my angels brought something to my attention that I believe is of utmost importance. Amitiel, if you would please?" Innominatum looked to his side, at the angel he brought with him, seemingly a seraphim. Michael probably met her once, but such memories weren't important.

"Of course." With a slight bow, the angel stepped forward to the table. "Thank you for allowing me to speak. I shall strive to be quick in my speaking, but first there is something that I must admit." Taking in a deep breath, she seemed to steady herself. "I, Amitiel, Seraphim of Lord Innominatum, have been living on Estus for the past five years."

Michael’s eyes went wide as they stared at the lawbreaker that dared to stand in the presence of the gods whose edicts she had defied– “With my permission.”

Their gaze snapped to Lord Innominatum, who looked unimpressed with the obvious shock in the air.

“And why did you allow that, my son?” Elder Lucere intoned, Her light shining through the hall in an undeservedly comforting gesture for the blatant violators of Her most holy of laws.

Lord Innominatum, unsatisfied with merely flouting the laws of the heavens, had the audacity to roll his single eye. “Amitiel was explaining that.”

“...” Elder Lucere’s gaze turned to the angel, who bowed.

“Eight years ago, under the instruction of my Holy Father–” It rankled to hear another god described with such a term, irrational though that may be. “–I had been partnered with a mortal outworlder. They had slipped from their world into the Estian realms, and my Holy Father saw an opportunity made available to create a secondary in the event the Chosen Hero had ever failed. He sought to make a Champion of Thunder, and brought this mortal to his realm to be educated and trained.” Amitiel straightened. Her face was...oddly gold. “During that time, I fell in love with my now spouse.”

...What did that have to do with anything?

Lord Purus let out an odd, amused noise, playfully covering his mask where his mouth would be. “Really now? A holy seraphim of the Rakuli, not only acting in defiance of our laws at the order of her creator, now proclaims to have ‘fallen in love’ with a mortal outworlder?”

Oh. Amitiel nodded, as though that was not the most...Michael wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t right and they didn’t like it and how dare this-this violator bring up such matters in the presence of their divine creators!? “I did. We are married, and have a child.”

There was an odd noise, and it took Michael a second to realize it came from themself, aided by the fact that some of the gods were glancing at them with amusement. They remained still though, unaffected by the grins, and kept straight, even-...even as the golden eyes of Metatron, in attendance to Elder Lucere, glanced at them with visible disdain.

Michael took a breath, steadying themself, and stared straight ahead, ignoring the eyes of their siblings on their back and focusing on Amitiel once more as she continued to speak on her many crimes. “-and have been living in the mortal town of Surton for two years now, where they have elected me their mayor.”

“So not only did you go behind all of our backs to raise up your own champion, Innominatum,” their Father spoke, immediately commanding attention, “You’ve sent your angel to live among mortals, and even seize power within the territory of the Light Lands?”

“No, because Surton is a bordertown.” Lord Innominatum had no right to be smiling so casually. “It’s not under Light Land dominion, but neither is it a darklander settlement. It’s a little miniature limbo, and technically its own territory, so my daughter hasn’t infringed on any sovereignty. Quite unlike what we chose to do months ago.”

“You agreed to the decision to exile Goldforge. You were more than happy to allow it.”

“Yeah, because I assumed one of you would actually bother to tell the poor bastard what kind of conditions he was under!” he snapped, a crack of thunder sounding out that made Michael shudder and, worse, their Father to glance at them with concern, “How could he know what actions would condemn him if none of you ‘Triarchs’ even bothered to tell him he was under threat of exile?! An exile that I will point out, did actually overstep our boundaries!”

“We are gods, we don’t have boundaries,” Lord Purus explained, reclining on his throne, “And besides, if the matter was of such a concern to you, why did your angels not inform him of the matter?"

“Because I didn’t even know he hadn’t been informed until after the fact! Which was awfully convenient for you, wasn’t it?”

Lord Purus spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “My apologies, but it seems we’ve all made a number of assumptions here, haven’t we? Why, if you can blame us for failing to inform the mortal of those ‘conditions’, why not blame the ‘matrons’ for their own failure? Is it unreasonable for us to assume those pushing for conditions to be added would be the ones to handle-”

“Hey! Don’t blame this on us!” Lady Chlora interrupted, scowling, “You wanted to punish him in the first place, we had to argue you down from outright killing-”

“Never mind!” Lord Innominatum suddenly shouted, then sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I swear, we’ll never get anywhere...Look. Amitiel has a point to make. Listen to her first.”

And the violator in question looked entirely unphased by the divine argument, merely bowing again in apology. “While I agree that I have, in some ways, committed transgressions against the Accords that bind both the angelic and the divine, I believe my experiences have been invaluable. Because of my time on Estus, I have gained an appreciation for mortals and their ways. I have met people of many types, I have lived among them in times of joy and times of sorrow, and I have made a number of friends. I enjoy every moment I’m there, even if it gets difficult at times. By living among the mortal, I understand now, better than ever, why it is important to protect their peace.

She looked to Michael, and had the audacity to smile with what looked like genuine kindness. “I am sure the angelic protectors of Divica can support my claims. They’ve been at it for much longer than I have, after all.”

Which was entirely false and Michael was more than willing to explain why exactly every single last mortal they had ever interacted with was a pathetic, short-lived wretch focused more on their own greed and lusts than any sort of virtuous being, even if they were audacious enough to pretend at being an honorable combatant who disguised his inability to truly finish a fight as mercy, but they did not have leave from their Father and so they did not speak.

Perhaps they should have, because now the other gods were making noises of thoughtful agreement.

“I did get a lot of nice things from the Ebkaians,” Lady Foco mused, “And Ithuriel’s been getting along with them a lot better…”

“I suppose an angelic presence would steer Orindaco in a better direction,” Lady Mesic considered.

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t been sending my own little ones out every so often anyways,” Lord Kataba admitted with an airy shrug.

“Hm...perhaps that collaboration with the Rosians would go better if I allowed my engineers the chance to aid them?” Lord Augant wondered as well, his head tilted in thought.

“We have these laws in place for a reason,” Father rightfully reminded all the musing deities, “If we start sending our angels to actively interfere in the mortal world, then it won’t be long until the Ouza find an excuse to let their demonic hordes loose on the world!”

“They already do that without us giving any excuses,” Lord Innominatum denied, spitting in the face of all logic, “Besides, we’re not suggesting we send every single angel we have out to Estus. Mother’s ‘army’ alone would likely get the mortals panicking over a holy invasion.”

“Amusing.” Elder Lucere did not sound amused. “What is your proposal, my son.”

“It’s Ami’s proposal, mother. Ami?”

Amitiel nodded, then looked straight to the Elder Lucere, as though she was not a miniscule speck in front of the almighty grace of an Elder God. “Elder Lucere, Divine Mother of the Light, I, Amitiel, Seraphim of Innominatum, come before your holy grace to request that you allow all of the gods of the Daybreak Court to send a representative to the Mortal Realm of Estus, so they can tell their divine creators about the mortal world and how different it has become.”

Lucere stared at the seraph, then, to Michael’s shock, slowly nodded. “I see. You propose a tour of sorts with the angelic representatives we have selected."

“Yes, your divine radiance. I believe it would aid this grand court in forming deeper connections with the mortals of Estus.”

Lord Purus chuckled wryly. “Really now? You believe angels need a tour to understand the mortal world? Then should we ask the mortals to be their guides? Perhaps as an adorable partnership like your petty little spouse?”

“I thank you for your excellent proposal, Lord Purus,” Amitiel promptly responded, bowing to him before looking to Elder Lucere again, “Is his suggestion acceptable, your divine radiance?”

Elder Lucere seemed to glance at her youngest son for a moment, who was still and staring at Amitiel, before she nodded once more. “I do accept this proposal from my sons. As they have both suggested, the members of the Daybreak Court shall now be sending one angelic representative each to the mortal realm of Estus, where they will have a mortal partner to act as a guide in their exploration of this changed world.”

“My thanks, your divine grace. If I may, however, I do have an idea to further support the unity of our court. As such, I would like to add one condition,” Amitiel continued, as though her requests weren’t already overstepping her boundaries, “The mortal representative may not share the same god as the angelic representative. Essentially, they must follow another faith of our court. An angel of light has little to learn from a cleric of light, but a cleric of wind or water or even metal may be of great educational benefit.”

"And what exactly would a cleric from another faith be able to teach one of my angels?" Purus asked as he stared at Amitiel.

"How followers of other gods show their faith, for one. Despite the people of all of your lands being so close to one another, they all have different ways of showing their faith. The followers on Koshima, the island holding the Lightning Temple, for example, have a week long celebration of music and merriment where they celebrate in my father's name, where as your followers have a day of silence do they not?"

"Oh yes, how lovely. I'm sure my angels would love to learn about Chlora and her rather open followers." His mocking tone was well earned, though the Elder Lucere appeared more pensive than dismissive...

"Oh? Does that mean you're volunteering to have one of my clerics guide your angel?" Lady Chlora asked, as though the question wasn’t ridiculous.

"No. But, for that matter, I would also like to say that you three ‘matrons’ shouldn't partner up with one another. With how close you three are, I'm sure your angels won't learn much from any of your clerics." With the loosely veiled insult thrown, Lord Purus leaned back in his chair once more, and the only thing that stopped Lady Chlora from retorting was Elder Lucere speaking again.

"Yes, if that were the case, then the Triachs must also refrain from doing the same, as our followers are even closer. My son, am I correct to assume that the reason you asked us to bring an angel would be so they would be our representative?"

"Ah, yes but…" Trailing off, Lord Innominatum glanced at Metatron, and then at Michael and their siblings. "It seems there was some miscommunication." Hmph. Well of course Father would bring all of them to such a meeting. As for Metatron, while he wasn’t an angel of light–instead being an angel of purity, essentially gifted to the Elder by Lord Purus–he was still an important angel of great authority. So, really, Lord Innominatum was being stupid again.

"It appears so.” Elder Lucere turned her gaze to Father. “My son, if you would choose one of your angels to be your representative, we shall be able to finish everything up afterwards."

"Of course," Father promptly responded, though when he looked at Michael and their fellow cardinals, he quite visibly hesitated. Was he unwilling to select one of them to be important over the others? Well that was ridiculous, the choice was obvious.

"...Ve-"

"Father, I humbly volunteer to be your representative!" Cutting off Gabriel almost instinctively, Michael stood tall and proud, not showing any weakness even as Metatron stared at them.

"Well now that that’s settled, I do have one thing to say." Leaning forward, Lord Purus looked Lord Innominatum. "Isn't it a tad unfair that your angel has already gone on a tour? For all we know, couldn’t she simply choose to avoid this new tour and just give you information she already knows? Perhaps while galavanting off on some other task?"

"Hm…” Elder Lucere hummed, a melodious sound that echoed with a pleasant brightness. “Indeed, while I would not wish to accuse you of such, it is odd that you would use an angel who is several steps ahead of the others for this proposition."

"...Amitiel, if you would," Lord Innominatum requested.

"Of course, Father,” Amitiel acquiesced with another bow, “While I will admit that I have already traveled across some of the Light Lands, I cannot say that I have truly seen it all. As it stands, of the three years my spouse and I spent traveling, most of it was spent in Gorokiva. We only briefly passed through Luceneva and Tramontava, before settling down in Naloriva."

"Really? You spent so long in Estus, yet you saw so little. How odd."

"Truth be told, that was partially because of my spouse. As they were to be a backup should something happen to the chosen hero, they wished to see what they could of the Dark Lands. And though we never ventured into said lands, it has been enlightening encountering those residing so close.

"Even so, I feel it only right that I be the one to go as my father’s representative. As this was my plan, so the responsibility falls upon me, even if it means being away from my beloved for however long this task takes." Michael felt their jaw clench as Amitiel spoke, as though her spouse could compare to something that Lucere herself has ordained. In that moment, Michael vowed to themselves to surpass Amitiel in this journey! Not only would they finish it in less than five years, they would complete it before she did!

Though their vow was an internal one. They wouldn’t interrupt as the gods continued their discussion, that was just good manners.

Which Lady Chlora entirely lacked. “So do we decide how to split up our representatives now, or are we putting this off at all? Actually, when is this whole thing going to go down anyways? Because I’m pretty sure the mortals are doing a lot of restructuring at the moment with the whole ‘newfound peace’ and ‘sudden new nation’ thing.”

“You make a good point, daughter,” Elder Lucere stated, “We can all see the sudden turmoil the Light Lands are still in. Pushing forward with this plan too soon may disrupt the delicate balance that the continent now finds itself within. As such, I acquiesce to your suggestion, daughter, and agree that we shall delay the start of this tour to a month from this day.”

“...Yeah, uh, I didn’t really...say all that, but okay.”

“A month is fine, though I have a question of my own,” Lady Mesic began, “Will this be a direct, one-to-one swap? For instance, if an angel of water were to partner with a cleric of metal, then would an angel of metal go to partner with a cleric of water, or would we select a separate partner for that second group?”

Lord Innominatum appeared to consider the question. “Let’s say, for simplicity’s sake, that it will be a one-to-one kind of deal. The plan is to have them be touring anyways, so they’ll be exploring around no matter what happens, and hey, it might be fun to pair up for this. Form better bonds between us and such.”

“Oh? But if we’re pairing up, would that not leave one of us out in the dust?” Lord Purus queried, his voice light with amusement, “Though, I suppose if it’s a choice between participating and not, someone like me, who only has three angels of his own, truly doesn’t have much to contribute, now do I?”

“What are you talking about? We’ve got ten.” Lord Innominatum inclined his head to the side, where–… “Rose is one of us, remember? Or is your mind slipping already, little brother?”

Michael stared at the tall, slim figure standing along one of the walls, at even height with a natural god. They wore the armor of a classical knight, composed of white celestial steel and decorated with roses in the distinctive pink glow of orichalcum, a loose pink cape draped over one shoulder. Who had been there the entire time, and whom they had most certainly noticed. They did not overlook a god, that would be stupid.

“If that would work,” Saint Rose responded, their careless shrug echoed in a smooth rustle of petals, “I hope my child will be safe in your care, Purus."

Lord Purus did not respond for a moment. “You really should address your senior more respectfully.” Then he reclined back in his seat, finished. Which meant at least one of Michael’s cousins would also be participating in this excursion. They didn’t know how to feel about that.

Regardless, the discussion continued as plans were made and partners were selected. All the while, Michael stood at attention, forever the dutiful child to their Holy Father. They would not falter in carrying out His will. His missions, His causes, His choices, whatever those may be and wherever they may take them, they would succeed.

For that was their duty as a just god’s angel.