Against his better judgements, Michael went to the Human Realm the following day. He needed to forget the girl. He can do nothing to help her. He needed to stop entering the Mortal Plane, stay among the angels, among his own kind. The Kingdom was strict in its ways, but he needed to accept how the Kingdom was run, and stop running from it in the Human Realm. But again he stepped into the Mortal Plane, into the small forest outside the village of Canden.
Michael walked forward to the nearest tree, braced his hands against it, and bashed his forehead into the tree. But the pain in his head was temporary to the pain in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, if he could talk to this woman, Ravenna, he could leave the Mortal Plane for good, and never return. Michael hoped that maybe if he could speak to Ravenna, maybe he would dislike her personality. He hoped this was just a physical infatuation, one he could forget.
The youngest Seraphim wished the Ruler would change. Change the way angels could interact with humans. Change the way the Realms of the Kingdom and Humans interact. Michael longed for the days Gabriel told him about; the days where the Ruler cared about the humans and their prayers, rather than allowing the prayers to come through the Fountain unheeded and largely unheard. Michael stretched his wings, and wished for the first time that they didn't exist. Michael bashed his forehead into the tree again. Such selfish thoughts. These thoughts weren't right of an angel, especially the higher-ranking Seraphim.
But part of him knew his thoughts weren't selfish. He had seen the things that plagued humans. Sickness. Pain. Suffering. Why must they suffer? Michael had the abilities to help the humans with the things that afflicted them; why did the Ruler prevent them from aiding the humans? Michael had heard the prayers of the humans whenever he walked through the Gardens. They asked for help with hunger. They asked for help with sickness. There were cures for their illnesses and there was food; it was a distribution problem, not so much a food problem. Michael could help. Why would the Ruler prevent him and the other Angels from helping? These thoughts couldn't be selfish if they were to help the humans.
Michael struggled with his thoughts again. Was he wanting to help the humans because he was good, or was he wanting to help the humans to make Ravenna's life better? He frowned at himself. If he was truly wanting to help to be a good Seraphim, Ravenna would not have crossed his mind. He hit his forehead against the tree again. The tree showered his hair with leaves. He did not have a good answer. Michael just wanted to be seen as a good man in Ravenna's eyes, and to help as many people as he could. But the Ruler and the rules of the Kingdom stood in his way.
Defeated, Michael sat on a tree stump near the stream. He removed his shoes, and dipped his toes into the cool water. He dropped his wings low, relaxing his shoulders. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his now-aching head. Hearing some twigs snap, Michael quickly grabbed his shoes and leapt across the stream to avoid being seen by whatever had broken the sticks. He tucked himself into a thick brush, and waited to see if his efforts were in vain. Panic about being caught had made him forget that he could have simply transported back to the Kingdom.
From the trail leading to the village, Ravenna appeared. She appeared angry, as if something or someone had upset her. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her slightly upturned nose wrinkled. Michael wished to cross the stream, to go to the clearing and console the woman. He resisted, and stayed crouched in the brush.
"How could someone be so vile?!" Ravenna let her frustrations out into the empty forest. Her safe haven would tell no secrets. "He treats those less wealthy than himself as if they are beneath him! What an unappealing display of arrogance! He is just so aggravating with his interrupting and rudeness!"
Two ravens, hearing Ravenna upset, appeared from the treetops. One of the ravens sat on her shoulder, and brushed her cheek with its wing. "How unusual for a bird", Michael thought, watching the birds comfort the young woman. She reached into her apron, and offered the birds something to eat. Satisfied, the ravens left to watch the woman from a branch. Flustered, Ravenna sat on a fallen tree, and ran her fingers through her long black hair.
"I wish other proposals would come. I cannot stand the idea of being stuck with Peter Jones! Perhaps I will let Grandmother take over the infirmary for a while and help Teresa in the market for a while, and I could talk to more people. She could use the help. I should talk to Grandmother when I get home." Ravenna looked up at her feathered friends. "What do you two think? Helping Teresa in the market?" The larger raven gave a clicking sound of approval.
Ravenna took a deep breath, and stood. She was feeling better, having gotten her feelings out into the open. She could always count on her raven friends to listen, even if they could give no advice. She filled her apron pockets with various herbs from around the stream, and stopped by the tree she had been sitting on.
"What's this?" Ravenna asked aloud to herself. She picked up a single white feather. "How unusual, I have never seen any birds around here with white feathers." She tucked the feather into her apron, and headed toward her little cottage home.
Michael sat in the bush, his hands over his mouth. How had he been so reckless?