I looked up and saw a 6'2" man dressed in a white, sleeveless vest, similarly white pans, and dark shoes. He looked young, in his early twenties. He also wore a thin, hooded brown cloak – one you'd expect a constant traveler to wear – over his shoulders.
So this is Michael...
When he removed his hood, his milky silver hair danced in the wind as he looked down at us. In the center of his forehead was the same symbol we'd seen plastered on every building in town – his ascension mark.
The look of his lightly tanned skin was just like the others; impossibly smooth yet extremely tough.
His light brown eyes were filled with confidence and care as he silently scrutinized the crowd of mangled people. Floating above us like that with the lit sky behind him kind of gave him a holy presence. I could see why those who didn't know his actual origins would revere him.
Then he looked at Naomi, Trik, and me. Based on his following expression, he summed up that we weren't there to become one of his devout followers. He looked relieved a little. Then annoyed.
As Michael floated down from the sky, the people around us knelt in worship. Some began to cry and even faint in awe.
He landed next to me and the others. When he took another look at Naomi, she smiled wide.
"Hi, it's been a while," she said.
"It has," Michael responded. His voice was still smooth and welcoming, yet his toned indicated he didn't want us there.
Considering he didn't know me and Trik, maybe it was Naomi he didn't want there.
I noticed three other individuals had come from within the church. They and the priest walked to the front of the crowd and knelt before Michael.
In unison, they spoke.
"May your light reach us."
The priest stood and faced Michael.
"Our unwavering faith has brought you back to us yet again," he began. "Please, Your Brilliancy, hold us in your warm embrace. Let us bask in your light as you strip away our pain and suffering."
I watched as Michael touched the priest's shoulder, causing the priest to tremble visibly.
Michael looked around at the crowd and then toward the city.
"Every time I come here, I ask you all to stop doing this to yourselves," he spoke in a tired tone. "Thankfully, it seems you haven't lost anyone this time."
"Your Brilliancy, if I may..." the priest replied.
"Go on," Michael permitted.
"Our cleansing ritual is only done at this time of the year when your return nears. Each of our wombs represents a sin we have committed in the past year. As the blood of those sins leaves our bodies, we await your light to heal and cleanse us. It is our way of repenting and expressing our faith in you so that you will never doubt us," the priest explained. "Without a good enough reason, we cannot simply abandon our customs."
Michael sighed in defeat. He raised his hand as yellow-white energy spread from his body. It washed over everyone like a warm, rejuvenating blanket.
As I watched everyone's wounds begin to heal rapidly, I also noticed that the dull aches in my arms were fading. Removing the bandages, I saw the bruises and cuts from my fights with Vicki and Wren and the gashes from breaking Avarice's glass disappear.
I looked up at Michael in amazement. He really healed me. Without even knowing who I am. He healed all of us. Did Michael return to Zakopane every year so that none of them would die? Was he keeping them alive?
"Thank you, Your Brilliancy," the priest exclaimed graciously. "You have blessed us with your healing touch again."
"Of course. Humans are a weak race, and it is my responsibility to preserve and protect the lives of those weaker than me." Michael responded candidly.
Michael looked over at Naomi.
"Speaking of...I presume you're here because you need me," he said to her.
"Actually, Your Brilliancy, these people are blasphemers who claim the one in armor is also a god. They also brought a man of darkness before our Church of Light, but he managed to escape," the priest interrupted.
"A man of darkness..." Michael said.
He looked at Naomi again, then at the priest.
"Thank you, I'll take it from here," he said, dismissing the priest. The priest and the other members of the Phoenix Order ushered everyone into the church, leaving the rest of us alone outside.
"Hi..." I began but was interrupted.
"Why are you traveling with a human," Michael asked Naomi.
I tried to insert myself again, but he completely ignored me.
"Can he not hear me?" I whispered to Trik.
"At least he acknowledged your presence," he whispered back. "It's like I don't exist at all."
"There's a friendlier way to greet people, you know," Naomi responded as she fidgeted with a mini ice sculpture. "But yes, we do need your help. Two other Primordials – more powerful than any of us – have created an army and want to do bad things to us and the world."
"I am life itself. I am the most powerful Primordial," Michael stated.
"The two Primordials I mentioned erased their existence for thousands of years so that they could quietly grow in power. Now, they're more powerful than all of us and have also created three beings just as powerful as you and Tymon in your hybrid forms," Naomi explained without looking at him. She continued to create various sculptures of ice in her hand.
"Tymon? I suppose this Tymon is the missing Supreme Primordial Death," he asked for clarification.
"Yep," Naomi replied.
"Tell me more about the ones meant to be my equals," he demanded.
"Umm...from what I've learned, they're really mean," Naomi began. Then she went on to give him their names and describe what their abilities consisted of.
"Hmm...that explains the explosive one I met many decades ago. I never bothered to look into who he was. He ran, so I figured he couldn't be a threat."