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This angel was born differently. That is to say, he wasn't born at all. He was not hatched or found, nor was he a figment of Existence like the Being he was modeled after. No, this angel was created just as he was, a form of light incarnate, a being of color and sound, intent and emotion, and nothing else.
Later, after Time began, he would be known as the Archangel called Michael; but that language had yet to be invented and he was still just a newborn angel, so the name Mikha'el was still the closest approximation: Mikha'el, he who resembles God.
Mikha'el was the First. He sat surrounded on all sides by color and potential, and he was content to sit there indefinitely. A bundle of light nearby drew no further thought until an incandescent realization hit him, the rationalization of a child; which was no rationalization at all, merely pure curiosity:
Oh, he thought, dazzled. I can play with it.
Mikha'el gasped in joy, tossing his form down beside the bundle in utter amazement, reaching out with all that he was to touch. The light inside the bundle pulsed with Mikha'el's own. A throb, a responding beat, a throb, the responding beat: In a time after Time began, this may be recognized as the rhythm of a heartbeat. Mikha'el didn't care to wait that long. He was content in the now, forming a steady rhythm with the bundle of light with nothing to disturb them except his own amazement. He would have given anything to stay in that moment before Time, in the moment where he and another being were so perfectly and succintly in tune, but the moment passed too easily as a surge of affection overtook his thoughts.
This light was the most beautiful in all of existence.
He reached out, enthralled, and gently coaxed the pulsing bundle to his side; and they mingling just slightly from edge to edge, filled momentarily with each other. The light welcomed him greedily, desperately, but it soothed quickly under his returning embrace. Mikha'el reveled in its presence, in such cool and inexplicable affection.
Mikha'el picked up the bundle and its light moulded to his grace, filling the space between parts of Mikha'el with bits of itself. It wouldn't cut or separate from itself, but neither could Mikha'el, even when he tried to in an attempt to get closer. The fragment of himself merely reformed around the pulsing light source because, whatever the thing was, it wasn’t yet a part of him. It felt as if sheets of Mikha'el were being cushioned by sheets of this new light: The two of them layered together, intermixed but still individuals. He pressed himself closer to it and shivered in happiness. It radiated welcome toward the intimate touch, and, emboldened, he brought it ever closer to the heart of himself. If he had had a body, the touch would have sent shivers down his spine. Even so, he felt as if it had, and he let out a soft cry of surprise.
Death laughed. God let out an appreciative chuckle, grinning indulgently down on Their children.
Mikha'el startled and glanced up. He hadn't realized that they were not alone (though he also hadn't realized what being alone meant, either. No one but Death had). His gaze registered Death first (although the vision encompassed merely a small portion of him) and he looked past Death to meet the visage of his Father for the first time.
Whatever he saw There, whatever Wisdom he gained, Mikha'el never spoke of it. Whatever it was, it gave him something that hadn't existed before. He looked into the Eyes of God and what he found there changed him forever.
It brought him to life.
New life soared through him, primitive but effective, coalescing and bringing the young being a solid essence. Though not quite a body, it was the closest thing in existence to one. Mikha'el flexed what passed for hands and gasped, absolutely floored at the variety of sensual feedback. It wasn't at all like being made of Light and Grace. He began shaking, overwhelmed all at once by the beauty that was living.
It didn't stop there.
Life incarnate surged through his body uncontrolled and there it found the bundle of light still trapped within him. It pulled the bundle free (Mikha'el sobbed at the loss) but immediately returned the light to his side, bringing the sweet young thing into its own skin, its own form, its own existence separate from both Father and older brother. Semi'el came alive, at last, sucking the second breath in all existence into his being and trembling at the addictive habit, unable to stop breathing once he had learned how.
Mikha'el still shook wildly from his own awakening, but he spared no thought for himself and immediately wrapped the new being in his grace, soothing its tremors. "Semi'el," he panted into his brother's hair, because of course he would know the name of the being he had helped bring to life. How could he not?
Semi'el curled around Mikha'el's legs, unable to stand on his own but still wanting to be closer to him, reveling in the tactile comfort. Mikha'el bent at the waist and pulled him closer, practically placing the little angel in his lap. He stroked both hands along the little body, and kissed his hair repeatedly until he quieted, soft face pressed against Mikha'el's chest. They held each other until the sensation - no, until life felt normal.
God stepped forward, intending to comfort them, but Death beat him to it. The being found himself undeniably protective of the younglings. Mikha'el flinched away instinctively but Semi'el surged upward to latch onto the extended hand, allowing it to ruffle his hair and gently cup his cheek.
Semi'el looked Death in the face, and all he felt was love. The next thing he was aware of was God's quiet laughter and Mikha'el boldly pulling the younger angel away as Death laughed and released them.
The angels shivered and huddled closer.
A hush settled across existence. It was peaceful, calm, and way too boring for any infant, much less an angel. Semi'el squirmed free and bounded forward only to quickly trip over a bowl of light. Or, at least, it looked like a bowl. One of the fifty cent ones that you would buy in packs of two at The Dollar Store in the late twentieth century, somewhere in Western America. Semi'el knew none of this, as Time hadn't been set in motion yet, but God did and He spared a small quirk of lips for the resemblance: He was quite fond of the rainbow plaid design on the brand that had the flared lip and a perfectly flat bottom, white on the inside, the kind often used to hold fruit on a coffee table for still life drawings in art classes...
Anyway, Semi'el didn't know any of that. He scrambled right over the lip and into the bowl without a second thought or backward glance. Intrigued and delighted, Mikha'el leaped after him, stopping with arms braced on the edge, and took a look inside.
Eggs. They were ovular in shape and with a size that had no definition. Like the one Semi'el had been formed from, these eggs were merely gorgeous bundles of light. The raw potential laid hidden under the surface had Mikha'el's pulse racing, excitement and desire doing the same to Semi'el.
Without asking, Semi'el thrust his grace wildly at one of the careful eggs of light. It didn't respond except for to glow brighter, reaching out. Semi'el thrust his grace at it again, and it seemed to enjoy it, again glowing brighter at the metaphysical touch. The third time, Semi'el realized he was doing something wrong: It glowed, but less enthusiastically, more as if it was asking for something and being denied.
Despite sitting in the middle of a cozy pile of over a dozen of these eggs, Semi'el didn't once think to reach out physically. Mikha'el did.
At Semi'el's infinite cries of frustration, Mikha'el clambered over the edge to sit with him, surrounded by their unborn brothers. A sense of peace overcame him. He reached out to tangle their hands together, directing that doubled touch to caress the egg Semi'el had wanted. This time, when Semi'el threw his grace at the bundle, Mikha'el brought the thought of life to flame within its shell.
It responded eagerly and grew, forming into a much smaller brother than the two who quickly pulled him close and laved the newborn with affection. This time, the new angel didn't shake. He trembled slightly, but that was due to his own delicate nature and not to the roughness of being unexpectedly alive. The newborn swayed a little, dizzied by the multitudes of emotion, and Mikha'el embraced him until he regained his balance.
Semi'el blinked. "Oh," he began, confused at the knowledge he was gaining. He reached forward and tilted the newest angel's head to the side, meeting their eyes and trying to decide if he saw something there. Timidly, he asked, "Rafa'el?"
Rafa'el's eyes lit up.
There was no stopping them after that. Now that Semi'el had gotten the hang of giving life he had every intention of sharing his until there was nothing left. He hatched one brother and then another, and the next, and then the next. Fourteen times in a row, Semi’el reached out. Each time, a brother saw the light of God in him and was born, and Rafa'el welcomed the new addition as he had been welcomed.
But the fifteenth time, the bundle of light didn’t awaken.
“Mikha’el? Why…?” Semi'el looked around hurriedly for guidance, grief coming so quickly to the surface.
Mikha'el embraced him again, unable to stand even a moment of his sadness, and looked wildly for someone to guide them. These flickers of worry were met with a gentle laugh from Death, accompanied by an encouraging smile from their Father.
But the encouragement was guidance in its own right, delivering an enigmatic message without words: There were no answers to be had. The angels would pull through on their own. Those brief expressions would have to be enough.
Mikha'el didn’t doubt they would be.
He couldn’t.
A shiver of trepidation surged up his spine, but he bucked up and reached for the unresponsive bundle to thread his hand through Semi'el’s, joining his grace to that of his first brother and the one yet unborn. “Mikha'el?” Semi'el asked, worried, but Mikha'el shushed him. The light of the eldest soaked into the bundle, surrounding it like a reservoir, holding the unborn in its center. Still confused, Semi'el joined him, and, finally letting go of his questions, he let the light of his grace illuminate the very core of this final, stubborn bundle of light.
As if he had been waiting for exactly that moment, the grace beneath their fingers jumped and coalesced, forming the seventeenth of their kind.
“Oh,” Mikha'el said, a bit surprised himself. “Gavri'el.” He pulled Semi'el back with him to watch as this youngest of their brothers realized himself. Semi'el allowed it, settling against his brother’s side.
The youngest of them blinked in confusion. He looked around to gaze solemnly at all that existed before Creation, and he sighed at what he saw. Then he inhaled deeply.
And then the youngest cried.
Panicked, Mikha'el and Semi'el scrambled forward, pulling Gavri'el into their arms, covering him in the love that formed the core of their beings, their grace. Gavri'el didn't stop bawling, and, absolutely terrified that they had done something wrong, Mikha'el looked to God for answers. God hid a smile behind a hand and ignored him. The cries lessened but the little Gavri'el still shook uncontrollably with his face pressed into Semi'el's chest. Still worried beyond belief, the eldest two angels shushed the youngest, kissing his hair and shoulders and ears until the fit of emotion had passed.
A pouting lip off to the side irked Semi'el’s protective instinct and, with a smile, thus was Rafa'el hurriedly pulled into the joining as well. Rafa'el sighed peacefully. He found the cries soothing, a sign that the littlest one had some hidden strength within him, demanding to be let out. His cheek rested on Gavri'el's upper back, arms around his waist to brush Semi'el's sides, and he was surrounded on all other sides by Mikha'el's body and grace. It was a good way to live.
Calls of curiosity from the fourteen other angels brought Mikha'el's attention, but luckily they did not demand more than the brushing of his grace against theirs to calm down. The elder two soothed the others, and soon the seventeen of them were huddled, grace touching, in the nest at the feet of God.
Wrapped up in each other, surrounded by a new form of love, the four of them settled in to watch their other brothers play.