Conversations with the Light Bearer (Religious Satire)

CHAPTER XXIII - The Prodigal Son

CHAPTER XXIII

THE PRODIGAL SON

The Great Hall of Heaven stretched far and wide with the girth of three massive churches, its white walls brimming with the fire of a thousand sconces. Toward the ceiling roared the flames of a countless bronze chandeliers, while down on the marbled floor columns of trestle tables flanked each other to no end, like a fleet of warships on a vast open sea. It was here where I fought the barbarian called the Archangel of God, and it was here where I was defeated not by strength nor sword, but by treachery. Michael must have been glad the hall was empty back then as it was today, saving him his pride and honor, or whatever was left of it. But looking back at it now, if I were given a chance to relive it all again, I would gladly do so—and never change a thing. The Fall, the rebellion, it was all worth it. It only seemed yesterday that I was an angel of God, but then again I was never suited to sing psalms with the cherubim.

I had my own song, and I had no plans of ending it anytime soon.

"So this was your little trick, huh?" Mammon said, turning his head as he admired the view. "Not bad. I didn't see that one coming."

I rose to my feet. "When I rescued the child from my brother back then, the first of my powers to return was my teleportation, the very same I used to escape the blundering fool. And for a time we have been using the boon to go about quite easily, though the catch was that the skill had one specific catalyst—physical contact with the girl."

Mammon snickered, then clapped. "Fine. I admit it. You outwitted me, old man. For now." He took a step forward. "So what now? What's next in your game of chess?"

I fixed my tie. "Oh, my boy. My turn is over. It's not me you have to worry about anymore."

"What?"

The great golden door creaked and opened behind me. White light slipped through, my body casting a giant shadow across the length of the hall. Slow footsteps treaded on the marble floor, and soon there were two shadows, the other one standing beside mine. "Demon," said the woman beside me. The delightful creature stood at a towering six inches, her face stunning yet stern, framed by golden locks tumbling down her bare shoulders. From top to toe her skin glowed immaculate, her long white gown flowing gently with the wind. "How dare you step on our lands?! And how dare you, Spawn of Hell, to defile the Body of Christ!"

Mammon didn't even flinch. "And you are?"

"I am an angel of God," said the woman sternly.

"Angel of God, huh?" The demon grinned naughtily. "Well, kneel down and bow before me, angel, for I am now your new God, the God on earth and Heaven and—"

With a snap of the angel's fingers, the Reincarnated Christ lost voice and consciousness, falling face flat to the floor. "Fool. You have no power here, hellspawn."

"Dani!" I said as I ran to her, placing her head on my lap. "Dani! Can you hear me?!" I brushed her blue hair aside. If the plan had worked, then the angel would have exorcised the demon right on the spot. "Dani!" I repeated, shaking her. "Wake up!"

The little girl squinted with weak eyes, and stared at me. For once her pupils were no longer a demonic yellow. "What you looking at, dumb-dumb?"

I sighed to my relief, and embraced her. "I'm looking at you, kid. I'm looking at you."

"Hey, hey," she struggled in my arms. "What's with the drama . . ."

After a while I finally let go. "You look good in that dress, kid."