The Great Archangel

By Justin Roberts

As twelve-year-old Alex makes his way home through a quickly darkening forest, he sees a brilliant light, and hears a voice calling his name. Though it quickly fades, Alex knows that he must find out what that beauty was.

 

When he goes back alone into that darkened wood, he finds a woman with two wings of glory standing now to greet him in a radiant, unknown world.

 

But Alex soon discovers what unheard-of devastation the kingdoms of darkness have brought upon the kingdoms of light. And, of all unlikely things, he learns that he is needed in the final days of this, the age-long war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Justin Roberts
• Release date: Aug 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201854782

Book preview

1

A Light in the Darkness

Alex and his friend Ben walked home from the beach. In the daytime, the path was a pleasant walk with trees all along that reached to the sky, and if they looked up they would see sunlight peeking through the leaves. But they had lost track of time and the orange light of the sun seemed to pass quickly through an evening haze into the deep black of night.

They were usually not all that scared of the dark woods, but they found themselves getting more and more nervous. The natural glories of the Island make for utter darkness when night comes. One fearful thought of what lay in the woods led to another and another. So with a long way to go still, Alex and Ben began running for home. Trees rushed past them as they hurried down the winding path.

As they came around a tight bend, there before them a brooding light shone from within the woods. Like rolling waves it heaved and swirled inside itself, growing larger, then smaller, then larger again. A deep throbbing came from it and rang in their bones. Alex and Ben stood frozen in fear.

Then the soft voice of a woman said, Alex. I saw you reading in the garden.

Alex’s fear went away immediately, and he was filled with wonder and amazement.

Suddenly they heard Alex’s father calling for them as he made his way down the path, his flashlight darting back and forth.

At the sound of his voice, the swirling light faded away altogether.

There you are! Alex’s father said.

Did you see it? asked Alex. Did you see it?

See what?

Alex looked back towards the light. He stared for a moment, his heart racing, and saw nothing but the darkness of the forest. There in the trees, a great light.

His father glanced into the dark wood and back at Alex with a confused look. Was it someone with a flashlight or something?

Alex wanted to say no right away, but stopped himself. Well, there was somebody . . . a woman. We heard her voice. He looked over at his friend, who nodded, still in shock. But it was a light like I’ve never seen, I’m telling you! It was like it was shaking us . . . and she knew my name. She called me Alex.

You saw a woman?

Again he struggled to answer, but finally said, No . . . we didn’t see her. She was in the light.

As he was about to say more, his father crouched down in front of him. He placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder, and looking earnestly into his son’s face, let a long silence pass.

Okay, he said. What if, for now, we get you boys home, and see how things look after you settle in a bit.

Ben nodded and started to walk forward, but Alex did not budge. He looked his father in the eyes and asked, Do you believe me?

His father took a deep breath, and his eyes roamed as he thought of a response. Let’s just get back to the house for now.

Alex felt a weight of sadness pierce his heart; it was all too clear that his father did not believe him.

Come on, his father said and turned to head back.

Alex and Ben followed. The walk home was a quiet twenty minutes as all three tried to make sense of what had happened. When they arrived, his father led Alex to their front door and then walked Ben back to his house. Alex went through the door and came to stand in his kitchen.

He was twelve years old at the time, with short sandy-brown hair and a head that was a little big for his body. There was an easiness about him, and deep kindness, and though he had no obvious gifts, he had an air of something striking that everyone felt but no one could put their finger on. He liked to have a few, close relationships with friends, but talked so easily with adults that his aunt once joked that Alex was born a forty-year-old.

Alex rushed across the kitchen and up the stairs to tell his mother what he saw. The bathroom door was open, and she was getting his two younger sisters, Rachel and little Sophia, ready for bed. Sophia was lying on the bathroom floor as their mother tried to floss her teeth. Rachel was bouncing up and down the hall in purple pyjamas.

Alex went to the open door. Mom! I saw something in the forest.

His mother turned and said, What’s that, sweetie? But as soon as she looked away Sophia started to get up, so she whipped back saying, No, lie down please until we’re finished.

I saw something in the forest, really, Alex continued, a light and—

But Rachel hollered over him, Mom, I’m thirsty! and trotted off down the stairs to the kitchen. I’m getting some water.

Alex raised his voice. It was like a ghost or something, he said, something there that knew— but as he spoke, his mother was putting the floss down and getting the toothbrush, and Sophia tried to make another break for it.

His mother flicked her hair back out of her face and went to Alex. Can this please wait until the girls are in bed?

Before he could answer, she had turned back to Sophia.

Alex stood for a moment not knowing what to do. He lifted his head like he was going to speak again, but Rachel came storming up the stairs. Where’s Dad?

He looked at her and didn’t know how to explain himself.

Where is he? she repeated.

Alex turned slowly and headed to his room. He’s walking Ben home.

Alex lay down on his bed, going over that moment in the forest again and again in his mind. He thought he would lie there until the girls were in bed and his father came home, when he would be able to talk to his parents about it. But the excitement of it all started to fade, and he grew tired and fell asleep before his father returned.

2

Gabriola

Alex tossed and turned all night dreaming about the light and the woman’s voice. But when morning came, and he sat up in bed, it felt like every other day. The sun shone bright through his window, and he could hear the clanging of dishes downstairs and his sister Sophia, who rarely spoke in anything but a yell. Pulling himself out of bed, he got ready and went downstairs. His father was making breakfast. Good morning, Alex.

Rachel was getting the table ready. Here you go, she said, and gave Alex a bundle of utensils. He took them and started spreading them across the table.

Their mother came in and said, Good morning, pulling Alex in for a hug and kissing him on the head.

His mother’s hair had some light brown at the roots, but overall was golden blonde, and fell just above her shoulders. Her voice was slightly deep, with a raspy quality, but always simple and honest. When she laughed, the strength of her voice showed, and you somehow felt it was a privilege to hear it, that you were together on the inside of something.

Eventful night last night, I hear, she said with a raised eyebrow. She waited for Alex to speak.

Dad told you?

Mhmm.

It was like nothing I’ve ever seen, he said, putting the last fork in place. Rachel then passed him a short stack of plates, and while putting them out, he said, "I know it sounds crazy, but Mom, it was real. It was really real. Ben saw it too. He was quiet for a moment. Maybe we should go back to the forest and see if we find anything."

His mother sighed and walked across the kitchen towards him. She slowly took the rest of the plates from his hands. "Alex. We . . . don’t . . . know what you saw, she said, her voice calm but strong. Maybe you just got a little excited. Or maybe someone was trying to scare you guys—"

As she spoke, Alex began tearing up.

Honey, she said with grief and love in her voice, what are your father and I supposed to make of this? What would you do if you had a son who said these kind of things?

What would you do if you saw what I saw?

His mother paused, and eventually said, I don’t know.

The family was now waiting for them at the table. His mother sat down and Alex followed.

After a long, uneasy breakfast, Alex got his shoes on and went out the door to Ben’s house. It was a ten-minute walk along quiet streets lined with trees. Gabriola Island, on the west coast of Canada, is like few places on earth. It takes two ferries to get there from the mainland, so it is remote enough to feel like a world of its own. Yet it is not a lonely island. Farmer’s markets are held in the summer and craft sales in the winter, and the weather is rarely too hot or too cold.

But what really strikes people who visit Gabriola is the sense of entering into an ancient secret. Its beautiful forests are full of mighty trees from a distant past. Petroglyphs are carved in stone and a regular sight to those who live there. And among all the unique features of the Island, there stands the breathtaking sandstone ridge, carved over centuries by the ocean, which stands like a tidal wave frozen in time.

Alex got to Ben’s house and knocked. Through the glass he saw Ben’s mother stomping towards him, her steps so heavy she caused the whole house to rumble. When she saw who it was she turned around and belted out, "Ben! It’s Alex!"

The main door opened from inside, and Ben greeted him through the screen door.

Are you allowed out? Alex asked.

Ben turned back into the house. Mom, can I go out?

Have you cleaned up your breakfast?

Yes, Mom.

Then fine.

Ben got his things and made his way around the creaky screen door. He was tall for his age, and his voice had begun to change. He had wavy dark brown hair that fell over his pale face and thin nose, which had a small bend in the middle.

Reaching the street, Alex and Ben started drifting towards town. They had the whole day free. They said hi to a neighbour cutting his grass, and then to another who passed them by on a walk.

But when they reached the main road, and there was quiet, Alex looked at Ben and said, I think we should go back into the forest . . . tonight.

Ben’s eyes darted to the ground and fixed on the stones and dirt that his feet kicked up, but he was silent.

Did he hear me? Alex thought to himself.

He gave Ben time to respond, but he said nothing. What if, after dinner, we meet at the end of Lochinvar and —

Alex, just forget about it. What do you hope to find out there anyway?

You won’t get in trouble. We can go as soon as it’s dark and be back —

Ben grew nervous and insistent. "I’m not going in the forest, Alex."

As he looked at Ben in confusion, a sadness came over him, as Ben was so often the only one who saw things as he did. All the times Alex had felt alone, Ben understood. But now it seemed like his best friend, standing right beside him, was miles away, and he was filled with a new sense of aloneness. They walked in silence, and for the rest of the day, Ben was content to ignore the issue altogether.

When Alex returned home, it was almost dinnertime. His mother was taking food out of the oven and calling for the kids to set the table.

Alex, can you tell your father that dinner’s ready?

His father’s office had always been one of Alex’s favourite places. Sunlight would pour in through the long stretch of windows that ran down the long wall, wrapped the corner and reached across the far side of the room. There his father would often have a painting that he was working on propped up on an easel. The floor around his easel was surrounded with paints, brushes and a large stack of canvases. The room was also lined with books and had two large comfy chairs from which Alex watched his father paint. But since he was young, what Alex had really looked forward to was going early in the morning when the smell of fresh coffee filled the air.

Alex quietly opened the office door and entered. His father was at work spreading brilliant white over a vast canvas of deep, glowing purples. His face relaxed and lifted at the sight of Alex. His father was a lean but strong man with rich brown hair and a long face with sturdy features.

Alex was in awe at the painting. Seeing his interest, his father said with an easy joy, Would you like to try?

Sure, said Alex.

His father loaded the squeegee with paint and explained what to do. Alex started on the right side. With two hands he pressed the squeegee firmly while gliding it across the canvas. As he went, he could see the white paint blend and swirl into the profound field of purple which looked like a galaxy or sunset.

The two of them looked at each other with some excitement before they heard Alex’s mother say, Boys? Dinner.

Ah, yes! his father said, and they made their way to the kitchen.

All having found their seats, his father prepared to