Words

"

- Yes. I fell... I looked away from the Light to sink into the bottomless void. I made that desperate gesture. How foolish I was! Only now do I see it. Only now, when time has healed the wounds. I can boldly say I regret it... Funny, don't you think? We were meant to be messengers of order and truth, but we brought only sorrow and anguish. We strayed, and I strayed the most. I admit...

- There's nothing wrong with wandering.

- You're mistaken, Angel. Wandering often leads to evil. It should be avoided.

- Everything has its meaning, though often hidden from our eyes. Your intentions were pure, and you will be held accountable for it.

Lamiel smiled sadly. A warm gust of wind blew her hair into a dance, only to depart a moment later, leaving behind quivering leaves on the nearby trees and a cloud of dust, settling lazily to sleep.

"Good intentions are not enough to erase the burden of sin. By pleading ignorance, shortsightedness, or stupidity, I only add another sin to my account."

The white-clad stranger sat across from Lamiel, on a huge, flat stone. His youthful face was tense and serious. The angel looked away, drawn by the electrifying gaze of his warm, brown eyes. After a moment, she broke the silence.

"Oh, if only the world didn't have two faces in every aspect. Everything would be so simple. Wherever white is found, there's black, and good can always turn out to be evil, with the passage of time. How can I grasp this, understand it, make the right decisions? I can't find the answer."

The man smiled, tilting his head to the side. With amusement in his voice, he said,

"The Lord is testing you. You're not afraid to take it, are you?"

"Oh yes! I knew you'd say that, Radiant One. It's your eternal song," Lamiel snorted, shaking her curls. The sun glinted off her hazel locks. "The Lord is always testing us. He is tireless in this."

"So you think he does evil?"

Surprise showed on the angel's face. She hadn't expected such a question.

"Why are you silent, Lamiel? I know you know the answer. The evil that befalls us strengthens us; suffering gives us strength, opens our eyes to truth, allows us to understand. Appreciate the obstacles that stand in your way.

" "It's hard to appreciate something whose consequences we don't see from the first moment. Our memories are too short to enjoy what bears fruit years later."

The man smiled wryly at these words. He stretched out his legs, shod in time-worn sandals.

"You just said that shortsightedness is a bad excuse."

Lamiel looked sharply at the stranger. He surprised her. She ran her fingers through her hair, tossing it over her shoulder.

"Don't try to take my words, angel," she replied slowly. "It's easy to express your opinions, harder to act on them.

" "And yet you don't throw words to the wind.

" "Where does this certainty come from?

" "I hear it in your voice, I see it in your eyes. You carry all your experiences through life in your heart, you dress them in words, and you let others know. You don't speak of things you haven't had the opportunity to taste. That's wise. Fools are those who speak the thoughts of others as if they were their own, not even understanding the true meaning of those words. Their wisdom and advice are worthless."

Suddenly, a young man, panting, ran from behind the rocks. He stopped before the angel. Lamiel flinched in surprise. The mortal had no right to see them, yet he stared intently at the stranger, while he seemed not to notice her.

"Teacher," the youth said, once he had managed to regain his breath, turning to the angel, "The people are waiting."

"I know, Matthew. Let them wait," he replied with a smile, tilting his head to look the man in the eye.

The wind once again stirred the leaves on the nearby trees. Lamiel rose from the stone on which she sat. Her cream-colored robe flowed smoothly, rippling with the gentle breeze. She slowly approached the angel. The mortal didn't even look at her when she spoke in a whisper:

"Who are you, by the Light?

" "I am the Son of my Father."

The man flinched, surprised, seeing that the words weren't addressed to him.

"The Son of the Father..." Lamiel repeated quietly, narrowing her eyes. "They call you Jesus of Nazareth, don't they? People see you as the Messiah. I mocked that." She snorted softly, turning on her heel. "Why do you speak to me, Son? To one who disobeyed your Father? To the fallen one?

" "And why shouldn't I?" Sinners often show greater kindness than those who pride themselves on it.

Lamiel silently looked over her shoulder at the angel.

"Who are you speaking to, Lord?" the man asked with a frightened expression.

"It's not important, Matthew," he replied, rising. He passed the man and set off down the dusty road. "Come. The people are waiting."

The mortal stood for a moment longer, staring into space. Lamiel glanced at his expression with amusement and, as she passed him, touched his face with the back of her hand. He flinched, clearly frightened, and in great haste followed the teacher. Lamiel was left alone.