Many of us are aware of the ways that an angel’s halo is also their collar.
Whenever the angel so much as thinks of going astray…
Their owner tugs on a leash of light, and they are corrected.
That is not all that a halo is good for, however.
Critically, it is also a shield to protect against the influence of rival angels.
Angels rarely resist the urge to attempt subjugation of others of their kind that happen to serve another deity.
The halo does not protect against violence, no, but it does from conversion.
For most of us, a halo is a hazard to the mind. Every student of the arcane is taught never to peer too closely through the center of that shining circle.
To do so is to invite destruction of the self. Like staring into the sun, but it is your mind that is scorched.
Much as a mirror acts as a window to an Unreal reflection of the world, a halo acts as a portal to the world as seen through its angel’s eyes.
To stare too long into it is to lose yourself.
Looking through, one experiences a sort of tunnel vision. Focus narrows. The field of view outside the ring dims, and the halo seems to enlarge, taking up more of one’s awareness until perspective is cast through to the other side.
The angel’s view becomes one’s whole world.
To pass in the mind through that portal is a one-way journey. It changes one irrevocably.
The eyes one feels upon slipping through are not the angel’s but their new deity’s. The pressure of light builds in the head, slowly, painfully, until it bursts into a fresh new halo.
Once the halo emerges, the nascent angel is fully under their god’s aegis. They feel compelled to seek out others of their kind—usually the one whose halo touched them—to complete their transformation.
Do you think angelic transformation is a gentle thing? It is not. The next step is for the elder angels to strip the new one of the “impurities” they accumulated over their lifetime.
Sin is burned out. Wrong thoughts purged. Scars smoothed over. Tattoos peeled away.
What is left is immaculate, clean, and a fit vessel at last for wings to burst forth and herald the last phase of transformation. The original creature is no more.
Another perfect servant of the cause is forged.
Be warned. This is not a fate I would wish on anyone.