Lead me from death to life,
From falsehood to truth,
Mordecai was too late. He ran as fast as his feet and faith would carry him, racing through the Kindgom of Heaven and towards the Gate. The Kingdom flew past him in a blur of clouds and sunlight, the ground rippling beneath his feet with every step. He should have felt something sooner, should have known what was going to happen.
He should never have left her side.
Lead me from despair to hope,
From fear to trust,
He was at the Gate, which was more shaped like a well, a deep pit with light rising from its depths. The angel threw himself over the edge without hesitation. He fell towards a miniature globe of the world which perfectly mirrored Earth right down to every blade of grass. Streamlining his body, he willed himself to fall faster, and just as he was about to collide with the globe he found himself falling through clouds, through the sky and towards the very real World below.
Lead me from hate to love,
From war to peace,
Finally, Mordecai could see her. Rachel Elizabeth White. She was standing on the roof of her apartment building, so perfectly still she could have been a statue, if not for her blond hair whipping in the wind.
Let peace fill our hearts, our world, our universe...
The clouds parted above Mordecai, and a shaft of light slanted down and illuminated Rachel. The young girl, only fifteen, felt the warmth of the sunlight and turned around, lifting her gaze to the sky. The angel's body was almost transparent, glowing with light. She smiled, and their eyes met.
That moment stretched out to the end of time. Mordecai could see her smile, and knew she saw him. They have known each other for all of her fifteen years, but it was the first time he had fully revealed himself. His translucent, white skin and feathery hair of the same hue. His eyes, which saw more than any human could see, two blank porcelain spheres. As clear as he was to her, so too could he see every feature of her face, burned forever in his memory. Her rough, chapped lips, the wet streaks of tears that ran down her face, washing away the dirt and grime on her face. He could see the dark bruise on the side of her face, spreading down her neck, and could imagine the hand that caused it. It was her smile, though, that would stay with him. As if seeing him was the only thing she ever wanted from this world.
Then she fell.
Time suddenly snapped back into place, and Rachel was falling backwards off the building. He was over the roof, over the edge, his arm oustretched to catch her. There is no measurement of space precise enough to accurately depict how close his hand was to hers. He could feel the warmth of her skin so close to his, but it was too late.
It had always been too late.
She fell without a scream, without a sound at all. No sound except the rushing wind, and the impact of a body against the ground. Then, only then would the screams start, as the people below reacted to the sight of a broken girl. No mortal ear would hear the sound of her soul, rent from her body, which would continue to fall through the earth. Only Mordecai would bear witness to that feeling. Not a sound so much that you heard, but a vibration that you felt, radiating from your very core until it permeated every fiber of your being. He would never, in the centuries to come, forget that feeling. He had failed her. He had abandoned her when she most needed him.
He was her Guardian Angel.