The Guardian Dog

Michael woke up from a dreamless sleep to the sound of chirping birds. Hmm. he pulled himself off the bed and walked to a nearby table to pour himself a cold, pink liquid. He downed it in a single gulp and sighed in relief. The doctor had prescribed the liquid for his headache that woke him up every morning. Michael strengthed and walked towards the window, Paris, his wife shuffled in the bed and sighed groggily. “Hmm,” Michael grunted to himself.

Outside, on the field below, his angels– soldiers of heaven– trained with swords and spears. In the middle of the field, two broad-shouldered sparred without weapons and were being judged by a short fiery captain. Michael leaned against the window sill and took in the sounds of clinking swords and spears. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat and dust but Michael found it as sweet as the flowers from Jupiter’s palace.

He looked inside, at the clock that Vulcan had invented, and smiled. It is almost time. he looked, unlike his usual self, excited. He picked up a shirt that was flung on the side table wore it and jumped out of the window falling a hundred feet. The air running through his long matted hair cooled him. He sighed, Hmm. as he landed on the field between a group of soldiers sparring double sword. Michael quickly moved out the way and continued to walk towards the northern exit.

His Watchtower was to the of west Mount Olympus. It housed the angels that protected the eastern borders against the Monsters of the Norse Pantheon. Michael carefully watched his angels practice different stances, unique weapons, and new hand-to-hand techniques under the watchful eyes of Raphael– his brother.

The door of the field was guarded by two angels wielding tall spears and shields. Michael inspected them from distance and flung a small dagger at them to test their reflexes. Satisfied, he left his Watchtower and walked across a green grassland sprinkled with towering trees with vines twisting around its stem. He yawned in boredom and continued to walk towards another gate. Two guards saluted him and allowed him through the gate.

Inside, it was eerily quiet, the air was filled with the smell of flowers and flesh and blood. “Finally,” he told himself as he walked towards the dark, secluded building. He pushed the doors open himself said with a smile, “Ash.”

He heard a growl from somewhere deep inside the building and then a deep bark that thundered across the empty corridor, “Ash,” Michael called, “It is me.” The building had an underground passage that linked the Watchtower to the Labyrinthian maze of interconnecting passages. Michael had once used tried to get inside but lost his way in the maze that linked Mount Olympus to the world.

Michael heard footsteps rushing and he thought of the day he had found Ash scared and lonely lying on the field bloodied by a terrible battle between his angels and their Norse Horde. He remembered bringing Ash to the Watchtower. The angels were both frightened and excited to have a playful little kid amongst them.

Ash came out from the darkness of the building and leaped across the room and pushed Michael on the floor. His canine protruded and he licked Michael’s face with love, wagging his tail with excitement. “Ash, aren’t you tired of patrolling the network?” Michael patted the dog and scratched him behind his ears. “Did you miss the Sun, boy?” Michael took him outside and Ash ran wildly across the field with his tongue lolling outside his mouth. Michael smiled as he watched his dog– the guardian Dog of Olympus, the only one to move through the maze without getting lost– jump in excitement.