ReliaRobot

You come across an exhausted and malnourished angel on your walk home. Its face is gaunt, its wings are half-molted, and its halo's golden light is pale and dim – but still that light points towards any in need. A man drops his keys, and it scurries to return them; a dog slips its leash, and it turns it from the road; a person stumbles, and it is there to catch them.

A child skins their knee at the same moment a small squirrel darts in front of a car, and it is frozen in place, as if trying to move towards both at once.

You take it home, chain its halo to a bedpost, and begin to care for it. You break bread with it, converse with it, nourish it with your love. Comfort it, when its halo pulls it to someone in need whom it cannot reach. And slowly, surely, it returns to health.

The hard part: it is determined to take the wrong lesson from this; angels often are. No, you did not care for it and heal it to show that it can help best when it is healthy. No, you did not do this for the greater good, to ensure that this angel can return to its ordained work. You did this for it. For its wellbeing alone.

"Oh," it speaks, its ethereal chorus sounding suddenly melancholic, "So you are evil, then?"

Evil?? No, you didn't bring it in as a prisoner, as spoils! You didn't take it home to lock it down, to keep its help and light and goodness for yourself. You didn't heal it for your own gain, you just wanted to see it be well!

"Yes. You acted for selfish reasons. Not for the greater good, but for your own desire..."

You want to explain. You want to change its mind, to show it what you see. But there is no argument you could give that the angel will understand.

"If there is good that I can do, then I must do it. To not take action would be to not do good. To not do good is to do evil. And to do evil is anathema."

So instead, you keep it chained. It is comfortable, and it is well-nourished, and it is enriched by your presence and company. After a few short days, its halo is quieter; it is no longer pulled to things outside of its restricted reach. Instead, the angel delivers what aid it can provide in its space – doing the dishes, tidying the sofa, holding you after a long day – and it is content.