Free Fiction: Advent, Day Seventeen
Title: The Spirit of the Season
Characters: Morningstar, Radueriel
Word count: 643
Warning: Religious Themes
“Doesn’t this seem strange to you?” Radeuriel asked.
Morningstar looked up from the table of fine jewelry laid out in the center of the mall they were in. “Strange? Why?”
Radeuriel, soft spoken and sweet, glanced around the bustling mall. “We both know he wasn’t born on December 25th. We both know there was no tree decorated with glass and lights. We both know—”
“Yes, we both know these things, but that doesn’t mean the spirit of the holiday can’t be enjoyed.” Morningstar smiled at the woman who was selling the handmade trinkets. “Besides, we both know I don’t much like him. Haven’t since the day Our Father decided to visit poor Mary.”
Now the woman looked decidedly uncomfortable. Morningstar flashed her another bright smile, chose a ring that had a simple inscription of love around the band, and paid her. She quickly wrapped the gift up and put into a small bag for him. In Morningstar’s opinion, she was glad to see them move away from her table.
“Mary was blessed,” Radeuriel said. “She was grateful for her role in history.”
Morningstar gave Radeuriel a look that spoke volumes, making his lover look away from him. “We both know she was scared. One day, she was a happy, young woman about to marry a man she loved, the next she was an outcast, pregnant before marriage, and claiming she was a virgin.” The walked along the mall concourse, glancing into festively decorated windows filled with material possessions that would be forgotten or ruined by the end of January. “She then spends thirty-two years loving Christ, raising him, teaching him, only to have to see him die before her eyes. Do you truly believe she was grateful to carry, birth, and raise him into manhood, only to see him cruelly murdered?”
It was only then that Morningstar noticed that Radeuriel had stopped several paces back. He turned around, his brow furrowed. “Rad?”
There were tears in the bright blue eyes. “Is that all you see and think when you remember Our Father’s only child? The woman who birthed and raised him?”
Morningstar sighed, his arms feeling tired as he gripped the bags in his hands tighter. “Not all, but it is the truth. I know you worship them all, love them with the blind passion of the devoted, but… Rad… my blinders were stripped from me a long, long time ago. Now, to me, Christmas is just a holiday to remind those still in my life how much I love them, how much they matter to me. It doesn’t matter if it is December 25th or April 15th or September 3rd. I’d do it no matter the day, and I’d enjoy it just as much.”
“That was his message, though,” Radeuriel whispered. “It was all he wanted. He wants the humans to love, not hate. He wanted us to love them, too.”
Morningstar forgot about the milling people around them as he stepped closer to Radeuriel. “I know,” he murmured. “But he also wanted the humans to stand in the place of the angels, and for that, I don’t think I can ever forgive him… or Our Father. Now I know, I don’t have to, because they understand.” He smiled, kissing Radeuriel’s lips softly. “We have two hours to finish our shopping, wrap presents, and get to your office party, and standing in the mall yammering about God and Mary and Christ won’t help any of that. Let’s find Andrew the perfect gift, hmm?”
Radeuriel looped his arm through Morningstar’s, and they headed off into the throng of life again. After a few moments, Radeuriel asked, “You’re sure you can’t forgive them?”
Morningstar led Radeuriel into a stationary store. As he took in the various fountain pens on display, he sighed. “Not now. Not yet,” he admitted.
Someday, he’d like to.