Classes end once more on the campus of Moldoff College, but for one member of the faculty, the end of the day has special meaning: it is his last day as a single man. Tomorrow, he is to be wed, once again reuniting with the woman that fate and destiny have paired him with for several millenia. This time, more than ever before, Katar Hol knows that he is joined with his true soul mate.

"No sense wasting a beautiful day," he thinks, shedding his street clothes and letting the wings grow from his back with a mere thought. Walking to the window of his office , he is airborne before he is completely out of the building. Great wings spread wide, he quickly gains altitude to soar over the city that he, in a number of incarnations, has called home for so long. "Chicago, you've never looked so beautiful." he murmurs as the city shrinks beneath him. His keen eyes spy a small shadow moving over the city, and he instinctively looks upward to find the source.

High above, he spies another winged form in flight. "I see the day was too much for Shayera to resist, too," he says with a smile, accelerating toward the heights, streaking up high above his companion in flight, until he is in position to stage a surprise attack. His wings fold back upon themselves, and his body plummets, diving straight at the other. "Got to time this just right," he thinks, his arms reaching out. He waits until the last possible instant before whipping his wings out to brake himself. As he does, the other flier turns, raising a hand in which a fiery sword suddenly appears.

"Hold, Hawkman! I am not the one you seek!" says a voice that is at once a whisper, yet rings with the power of an angelic host.

"Zauriel! By the seven hells, I thought you were -"

"Your beloved. Yes, I thought as much." The Earth-bound angel smiles, and Hawkman feels as though the whole world has just experienced a moment of sublime pleasure. "I hope you don't mind that I let you continue to believe that. I was curious to see your reaction. Did you really feel you could stop in time to prevent injury to Shayera, or yourself?"

"Of course. I didn't hit you, did I?" Side-by-side, hero and angel cruise northward, paying just enough attention to their route to avoid flight paths.

"Such vanity would be most unseemly in a mortal, or even an immortal, but for one such as yourself anything is permissible."

Under his helmet, Carter's eyes narrow. "One such as myself? What does that mean?"

"Do you truly not know? Do you not understand what you are become?" Zauriel comes to a stop, hovering in mid-air, Hawkman drawing up to face him. "Haven't you realiized that you have returned not as the mortal Carter Hall, or the Thanagarian Katar Hol, nor even as the re-incarnated being who was once Prince Khufu, but as something much, much more?"

"Zauriel, don't speak in riddles with me. What am I?"

"Katar, you are now a god unto yourself."

Far below, well beneath the notice of the winged duo, another drama was playing out.

"William, I am glad you have come. Your grandfather had hoped to see you again before he died. When he realized that he wouldn't last that long, he gave me this box to hold for you."

William Ravenwing sat on the floor of his grandmother's living room, not at all sure why she had asked to speak to him alone shortly after he had arrived with his mother from their home on the Onondaga reservation in central New York. He had only seen his grandparents a few times in his seventeen years, since they had moved to the Detroit area before he was born. Now, he struggled to resist bolting out the door and away from the foolish old woman and his grandfather's posthumous peace offering.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you." He took the small wooden box, lifting the carved lid. The smell of cedar that surrounded it grew stronger, and the dim light reflected dully from five objects within. Slowly, carefully, he withdrew a woven leather necklace from which hung five stone figurines. Looping it over one hand, he saw that they were carved in the shape of a bear, an eagle, a fox, a deer, and an some long-bodied creature which he slowly recognized as an otter.

"These talismans have been in your family for hundreds of years, William. Your grandfather never told me what their purpose was, but his father once told a tale of great magic associated with them. Please, son of my eldest daughter, be careful with them." Dark eyes, set deep within a lined face, glistened with barely -held tears. "For your sake, and for the sake of your grandfather's spirit. I know you have been travelling a troubled path. You mother told me about the fights and the trouble with the police at home. Let this be a turning point for you."

A voice that was nearly not his own answered "I will, grandmother. I will discover what purpose this serves, and take great care with it."

They both rose from their seats, Anna Moon going to the kitchen to join her daughter, William Ravenwing going out to the woods behind the house. As he walked, he fingered the figures around his neck, trying to remember stories told by some of the crazy old men back home. "Totems, I think they called them. Symbols of power, or holders of a spirit. I wonder if one of these holds grandfather's spirit? If it does, I hope he doesn't know that I think Gandmother is full of baloney with her talk of troubled paths and turning points." He stopped and took the carved eagle between thumb and fingertip, concentrating on calling forth the spirit of his ancestors. He did it in jest, but he felt a warmth spread from the totem, up his arm and throughout his body. Startled, he let go of the stone. As he did, he felt an odd weight on his arms. He turned to look at them, and saw that they were transformed into wings. He raised them together, some hitherto unknown instinct directing his actions. Bringing both wings down, he jumped into the air, a small part of his mind noting that his legs were now much shorter, and bent the wrong way. Beating at the air with his wings, he slowly and awkwardly rose, until he emerged above the treetops.

"I don't believe it! I'm flying!"

"I don't believe it! How can I be a god?"

The angel assumes a tone like that a parent would use with a child seeking understanding, patient yet persistent. "It would seem that the combined efforts of your friends and the magics of the Hawk God's realm are to blame. You already know that you were merged with many different incarnations of your soul, some of whom have never even existed in this reality. Such a merging can result in one who is much more than human. Add to the the alien physiologies and ancient magics that were involved, and the result is a being who is much more than even the greatest pinnacle of human or Thanagarian evolution. A god."

"Then, doesn't that mean I out-rank you, or something like that?" A chuckle belies the seriousness of the question. "I mean, I don't feel all that different from my previous lives. I don't have an urge to reach out and smite someone. I can't create worlds, or lives, can I?"

"No, those abilities are reserved for ones of even greater power. Beings like the Hawk God, or the Presence." Zauriel starts a gentle, downward glide. "Do you recall meeting the inhabitants of New Genesis or Apokolips?"

Katar turns to follow, flying alongside the angel. "The so-called New Gods? Yes, I have met some of them."

"Think of yourself as a similar being. Totally unique, most certainly possessed of the power and personality to command your own group of followers, yet still bound by the restrictions of the reality in which you were created. One such as the Hawk God, one of those I've learned to call a Lord of Creation, they possess their own reality."

"What about the Presence? Does he have power over these Lords?"

"No, he is one himself, and I am one of his creations."

"Then, who is higher than that? Isn't there a single Supreme Being further up the hierarchy."

"Each Lord is a hierarchy unto itself. There is none higher of which I am aware."

"Yeah, nothing gets you higher than this!" cried William Ravenwing, soaring over a green valley. It came out as the scrreching cry of the eagle, whose shape he now wore. He saw something jump from a lake below, and his keen eyes followed it as it dove back into the water. Something in the back of his mind told him where it would be likely to surface again, and he folded his wings close to his body. The steep dive took his breath away, as he hurtled down from on high, talons extended, wing surfaces angling just slightly to adjust his course as he saw the fish change direction. Just as the rational part of his human mind was ready to panic at the impending impact, that instinct took over again, spreading the wings and reaching with the legs, snatching the fish from the water as he arched upward again.

"Wow! How did I do that?" he asked himself. "And what do I do with this fish now?" Before he rose too far, he let the fish go, watching as it dropped back into the lake with a splash. Looking upward, he saw two other winged figures coming toward him. He altered his flight path to investigate.

"So, what am I supposed to do, Zauriel?" Hawkman looked down, spying a valley below. Quiet, secluded. He made a mental note to bring Shayera up here sometime. "I'm not exactly looking to start a cult or anything."

"You can do much as you please, Katar Hol, within the bounds set forth by the Presence. In the history set forth at the creation of this reality, it has not been uncommon for gods to wander in the realm of mortals, interfering in their matters as much, or as little as they like."

"Wait a second, what do you mean by 'history set forth at the creation'? That sounds like some history was manufactured, rather than experienced." Katar's eyes widen as the implications dawn on him. "How long ago was this reality created?"

"Oh, ahh, that's just a turn of phrase. All history is experienced, it's just that, well, " Zauriel's attempt at an explanation is cut short as an eagle comes darting between the two humanoids, screeching loudly.

"Of all the -" A startled Hawkman rights himself, and switches to the natural tongue of the bird. "What is the matter, brother? Why did you disrupt our talk?"

William Ravenwing hears the winged man talking to him, and finds that he can understand the gibberish the man is speaking. When he replies, it comes out the same way. "I just wanted to check you out. I never saw anything like either of you." It is true, news of the Justice League and other heroes has never been a hot topic around the reservation, though lately there had been talk that a member of the Justice Society had taken up residence in nearby Syracuse.

"Katar, there is something wrong about this bird. It speaks the tongue, yet seems confused by it." says Zauriel.

"You can understand it?" asks Hawkman, reverting to English.

"Of course. When one has purview over all creation, it is necessary to speak in all the tongues."

The eagle circled them as they hovered in mid-air, diving in between them from time to time.

"Where are you from, brother?" asks Hawkman.

"Not from around here. And why do you keep calling me brother?" replies the eagle..

"All of the flocks are our brethren," answers Zauriel. "Is there something wrong, something troubling you?"

"What are you, some kind of winged social worker? The only thing bothering me is figuring out how to get back down to the ground without killing myself. This has been fun, but I'm ready to get back to myself."

"Back to himself? What could he mean by that?" asks a puzzled angel.

"Look, around his neck. That looks like some kind of necklace. Any true eagle would have clawed that away."

They both try to get a closer look, no mean feat as William is still flitting around them.

"It looks like some sort of animist representation, and I sense a power about them." Zauriel pauses to consider. "Perhaps some type of shamanistic magic is at work here."

"I've come across similar artifacts in the past. We just need to get him down to the ground." Switching once again to the speech of the eagles, Hawkman directs the youth to descend. Coaching him as they approach the ground, he and Zauriel are able to bring the young man to a landing not far from his grandmother's home. Once they have all reached the ground, he tells him, "Now, you need to focus, concentrate on returning to your normal form."

The eagle's head tilts slightly to one side, then the bird starts to grow and metamorphasize, until it stands nearly six feet tall, and is standing on two feet. A dark face, crowned by black hair, smiles as he looks around.

"Hey, I'm me again. How cool is that?" He extends one hand to Hawkman, and one to Zauriel. "I don't know who you guys are, but thanks! Do you know if the other figures on this necklace will work the same way?"

Katar examines the five figurines joined by twisted braids of drying leather. "I suspect they will. I would be very, very careful with this. Magic is extremely unpredictable."

"One such as I has little patience nor knowledge of such talismans, William Ravenwing. Such magic is best avoided, lest you risk your immortal soul." adds Zauriel.

"Yeah, I've heard things like that from some of the Christian types at school. You folks have to learn, though, that there's more than one god, and they all have their own ways." William looks at his watch. "Hey, I gotta get back to my grandmother's house. I saw it as we came down. Thanks again!" With that, he turns and dashes off through the wood, leaving behind a bemused angel and a grinning Hawkman.

"You know, Zauriel, after your talk about gods and lords, I would have expected you to be more understanding of his gods." comments the winged wonder.

"I believe that just demonstrates that I am not the omniscient one that my Master is."

In the woods, William Ravenwing stops and considers the events of the past hour. In turn, he touched each of the small figures on the necklace and concentrated on it. His body changed form, to that of a bear, an eagle, a fox, a deer, and an otter. With each change, he saw the world through that creature's eyes, while retaining his own keen intelligence. "Just think: with this, I could slip past security systems, escape any cop, sneak on to some rich dude's estate by swimming up his private fishing stream. Wait till the gang at home finds out about this!"

You know what? Swap Month has to be about the longest month there is! I know there's a couple of other Swap Month issues out there, and there's a lot more to come. I hope you've enjoyed my take on Hawkman. I hope I haven't strayed too much from TJ's ideas for him.

Watch for more of William Ravenwing, too. He'll be showing up in Wildcat before long, along with "the gang at home."

As always, if you have any comments, criticisms, questions, etc, feel free to drop me a line.

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