Father's Calling

The first spirit walked alone across the golden sand dunes, her bare feet sinking slightly into the warm earth. Each step stirred up grains of light, as if the very ground glowed in reverence to her presence. Her eyes swept across the vast horizon—her creation—proud and restless. A gentle smile touched her lips as she recalled Charlene's voice echoing in her mind.

"Gi Gi," she'd called her, laughing. The innocence of it warmed Destiny’s heart.

A shimmer appeared in front of her. A door. Plain, stark, out of place in her desert realm. She didn’t need to guess who had summoned it.

She rolled her eyes. “Not today,” she muttered.

She strolled around the door, deliberately ignoring its presence. Thunder cracked across the heavens, rumbling her bones.

Sighing, she doubled back, her joy already eroding. She stopped in front of the door. Closed her eyes. Sighed again. “So dramatic,” she whispered, and stepped through.

A dark corridor swallowed her. Cold, familiar. She knew this place. Her stomach tightened.

“The Coliseum,” she groaned. “Of course. It’s that time again.”

Family reunions—only not the kind with picnic blankets and warm hugs. This one was political theatre wrapped in holy robes. A congregation of beings who barely tolerated her existence.

"Father always did love theatrics," she muttered.

A flutter of wings stirred the silence.

“Hello, Dimitri,” she said dryly.

The cherubim appeared, clipboard in hand, halo faintly flickering. He looked more like a divine accountant than a guardian of heaven.

“Hello, Soul Spear,” he said, bowing dramatically. “We are ever honored by your—”

“Cut the formalities. Where is Father?”

“On the throne, in the arena.” Dimitri sniffed and lifted his nose. “As always.”

He continued reading from his list, annoyingly meticulous.

“I’ll be presenting you today.”

“How long will this take?”

“As long as needed. Everyone’s here.”

She let out a heavy breath. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Dimitri hesitated, then floated ahead, wings flapping too fast for such a small creature.

As they emerged into the Coliseum, the air shifted. Stone columns soared upward, tier after tier of beings in attendance. The lower levels, shrouded in shadows, housed her bound kin—demons, fates gone rogue. They snarled behind enchanted bars, their chains clanking in frustration. Above them, seraphim and dominions glittered like constellations. Light shimmered from their wings, and yet, not a single pair of eyes offered warmth.

At the very top, near the arena’s edge, sat the throne. The Triune. Father. The Spirit. And her creator.

“My I present,” Dimitri’s voice rose over the crowd, “To the Holiness, the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings—The Soul Spear of Destiny!”

A thunderous roar swept through the amphitheater—excitement, fear, awe.

She stood still, letting them look. Let them remember the one they called mistake.

Then—silence.

Her Father rose from His throne.

And everything stopped.

He gestured gently. “Come sit at my right hand.”

She ascended the stairs slowly, her cloak dragging in the sand of the arena. She took His hand, and He pulled her into a full embrace.

“My Destiny,” He said, voice warm. “It is wonderful to see you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know I hate that name.”

“Hate is such a strong word.” He chuckled. “Still, it’s nice to see you.”

“You already said that.”

“I know. But I wanted to make sure you heard me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why am I here?”

“This place is too loud.” He nodded. “Let’s go to your realm.”

With a blink, they were at Audubon. Her realm. The sand glistened beneath the sun, eternal and untouched.

He slid down a dune like a child, sending a wave of sand flying.

“This is where it all begins,” He said.

“I know.”

“You’ve built something beautiful here. It is truly yours.”

She opened her mouth, but He cut in, gently.

“Correction—you all were made to leave Earth.”

She didn’t argue.

“I heard you’ve been giving out unsolicited advice,” He smirked.

“Nothing gets by you, does it?” she said, folding her arms.

“I thought I’d return the favor.” He turned, serious now. “Two words.”

She waited.

“Free will.”

She tilted her head. “Go on.”

“You are powerful, yes. Full of grace. But allow your fates—your children—to make their own choices. Let them live under your reign, not your rule.”

She nodded slowly. “Things have changed…”

“And I know.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Congratulations. Your great-granddaughter…”

A wave of pride washed through her. “She’s magnificent.”

“Yes. Splendid. As if you birthed her yourself.”

“I feel that connected. I need to be near her. She matters that much.”

“She’s powerful. But you know that comes with risk.”

“I need to protect her,” she said quickly.

“I understand.” He sighed, staring into the wind. “But don’t intervene too much. Let her choose. Let her fail, and grow. That’s the only way her path becomes her own.”

“I’ll try.”

“One more thing,” he said, lowering his voice.

She tensed. “What is it?”

“The angels.” He paused, jaw tightening. “They’re holding Seth’s wife. She’s on the Angelic Plane.”

Her eyes darkened.

“They never cared for me,” she said, voice low. “Not once. Not even when I was born.”

“I know.”

“They see me as an error. An abomination.”

“They’re wrong.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “But…they are involved somehow. This sudden interest in your realm—it’s not coincidence. Their intentions are cloaked from me. But I’m watching.”

“We?” she asked.

“The All Father and I.”

A long silence passed. The wind danced over the dunes. She stared out into her golden realm. Her people. Her fates. Her legacy.

She whispered, almost to herself, “I just want them to have what I never did. To be accepted. To be… loved.”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

Let me know when you're ready to continue or if you'd like to expand any part—maybe a deeper dive into her past with the angels, or the moment she was cast out. We can also explore her first time meeting Charlene.