Short, Light, Free

I’m Jobs, God’s youngest six-winged seraph.

God took great care of me. On the sixty-third year of holding my post, He sent me to Earth to patrol the human world.

I circled in the air, overlooking the earth. Medieval architecture remained more or less the same everywhere.

Amidst the moving crowd, I spotted two strange fellows.

They seemed to be arguing. I landed on the roof and observed.

As they quarreled, they each pulled out the sharp and long stick from their waists.

This is something new. Didn’t man wrestle with their bare hands in the past?

They started their fight, swinging moves at one another in a rhythmic manner.

I was interested in finding out what exactly these mortals were holding onto.

I blended in with the crowd and asked around about it.

Later on, I located a blacksmith. Those long, sharp sticks were western swords.

Man would secure the swords onto their waists for easy access and usage.

“Where can I find the best western sword?” I asked.

“I have it here. The best in town,” he answered.

Revealing my identity, I requested for ten swords to bring back up to Heaven. Upon receiving the swords, I gently touched one of them.

Its name is not in vain. It will be much more efficient to use this, instead of fists, in battles.

I brought the western swords back up, intending to salute God with them.

I was going to receive praise, for sure.

God saw the swords and smiled.

“These are indeed pretty good.”

I was overjoyed.

Following that, God handed the swords over to the throne angel beside me.

God had him make copies of the swords for the angels in Heaven.

I secretly looked for the throne angel to get a sword back.

The throne angel smiled and said, “I’ve yet to modify it. This is to be put on the waist. You have three pairs of wings so how are you going to keep this western sword?”

Only at this point did I realize that my lower right wing was obstructing the portion of my waist where the sword should be positioned.

“I have my ways, don’t you worry.”

Unable to argue, the throne angel gave it to me.

I cut off my lower right wing in order to make way for my new sword. I kept it snug against my waist.

It was painful but worth it.

The next year, God sent me down again.

I discovered something.

Man were getting better at their crafts.

The swords I’d taken up to Heaven couldn’t be compared to the new ones I that saw.

The new swords were no longer made of bronze but pig iron.

And western swords made from pig iron could easily break those made from bronze.

It was then that I realized how obsolete my sword was.

These new swords have two edges, one for piercing and the other for splitting.

Double-edged swords.

With a bitter smile, I asked for ten of those.

This time, God wrinkled his brows, seemingly unimpressed. There was no praise.

He handed them over to the throne angel once again.

And I sought for one back.

The throne angel laughed upon seeing me. “I can’t believe that’s your solution.”

“None of your business,” I mumbled.

I couldn’t bear to let go of my first sword but the double-edged sword was beautiful.

Helpless, I cut off my lower left wing.

A new year came again but God did not send me to Earth.

Nevertheless, I was interested to see how the swords have developed.

And so I flew down on the sly.

There weren’t many changes save for the invention of a new production method – forging.

Forging pig iron made the swords more solid. Also, from far away, came another kind of longsword.

This longsword was wider than a double-edged sword and had to be carried on the back.

It was much more formidable as well but required more strength from man.

I asked for one and for it, I chopped off my upper right wing.

I carried it on my back with a bitter smile on my face.

It’s alright, I have three left.

Three was enough for me to return to Heaven.

But God wasn’t happy.

I was confined for a year but at least I had three great swords on me.

A year passed in the blink of an eye.

God called on me.

“You think it’s worth it?”

I smiled. “Don’t I have three left?”

He continued, “Then are you still keen on finding out how man has progressed?”

I nodded eagerly.

God released me with a warning.

“This is the last time. You’re not allowed to go back down ever again after your return.”

Man did not let me down. They created something called a knife.

A knife was broader than a sword but only had one cutting edge.

I forced a smile and cut off my upper left wing.

I added the knife to my collection.

As I was about to leave, man invented yet another weapon – a pike.

It was simply too long and I was left with my last pair of wings.

Can’t cut them off, can I?

I searched for the most skillful blacksmith.

I wanted to know exactly how the best of the best weapon would be like.

It took me two months to seek out the most outstanding blacksmith.

I asked for a way to fashion the ultimate weapon.

“But the best weapon is time.”

I didn’t understand.

He opened up his own collection.

Inside revealed the evolution from the earliest bronze sword to the newer pig iron sword.

He told me that there wasn’t something called ‘best weapon’ in the world because time reigned supreme.

And I possessed an infinite amount of it.

I cut off my remaining wings and started learning from this blacksmith.

Upon discovering that I was an immortal angel. he was gratified. He taught me how to forge ironware.

He, too, wanted to know how the best sword in the world would be like.

Although I was clumsy, time compensated for all things.

I inherited all the teachings of that blacksmith before he died.

I also started getting used to life on Earth, living incognito in this town.

I offered the best weapons to valiant soldiers.

Because I couldn’t fly, I stopped bothering about the affairs of Heaven.

It was until later on that I got hold of news from the churches.

Lucifer had taken a third of the angels along with him to start a revolt against God.

After three days and nights of war, the rebels were finally tried and thrown into the abyss.

And the weapons they had used for war were made by the throne angel – copies of swords I’d sent to Heaven.