Chapter 1. As Above

In a flash, the woman feels as if something significant has been snatched away so violently that it left her winded. She wanders fitfully through the thick fog scattering her thoughts, feeling about for some semblance of a connection. At the same time, the woman furiously blinks blinding white light into sharp focus – seeing only fluffy alabaster clouds at her feet stretching into the cornflower blue horizon.

“Satha…” Someone gently urges.

Grand golden gates rise out of the landscape bordered by a stone wall towering at dizzying heights. An ivory podium trimmed in ornate gold sits before it, a man whose welcoming face fans embers of familiarity awaits between the two. His bushy white beard and hair tugged at something she could not quite get a hold of.

“I know that this must be confusing.” he says with concern. “Trust that you have achieved something which many will not throughout their entire existence,” the man praised, motioning for her to enter the gateway with a warm smile. “I am afraid I cannot tell you much more than that you have arrived somewhere which contains all you have ever held dear.” he nods pleasantly. “I pray you find peace.”

Maybe she should question it? The woman asks herself, moving forward. Why did everything feel like it was exactly as it should be? Satha wonders, walking through the gates as if being led home by an invisible hand.

“Thank you.” She squeaks, looking back at the man who had already turned his attention to a winding line emerging from the clouds behind her.

Unable to hear her any longer, he says something unintelligible to someone whose features she could not fully define. Recognition lights up the blank face in response to the white-haired man behind the ivory stand as she was sure hers had to those who came before her. Whoever he was, he seemed to understand the plight of anyone who stood before him, treating them all with the same level of respect. The idea sends a lone tear tumbling down her cheek.

Once Satha crosses the threshold, the man and the snaking line he attends to fade back into the neverending sea of clouds. Colossal, coloured crystals burst from the floor in front of her with a dark mass at their cores. The largest of the jewels float about the air listlessly, bumping into each other with the soft chime of tinkling glass before drifting away. Each dark spot appeared to be a person whose face was twisted in unspeakable bliss.

A carob brown pony appears at her side with a light trot, calmly nuzzling the palm of her hand with a soft neigh. Instinctively, she runs her hand down the length of its tawny brown mane and scratches down its back. The small horse paws at the ground in pleasure, flapping the wings just above its hooves. Emboldened by the animal at her side, she edges deeper into the tangle of giant gems.

“Spectacles to all bathed in the splendour of their light...” a voice echoed. “Their true beauty is rarely experienced by anyone who exists outside their glow.” It explains.

Although she could not tell which direction the voice came from, the woman felt no fear.

“Hello?” She calls out into the expanse.

“Overwhelming, is it not?” The disembodied voice queries.

The voice’s owner – a middle-aged man with tousled walnut-coloured hair, observes her from atop a tremendous topaz with his head propped up in his hand.

“It is like that for many of us when we first arrive.” he drops silently to her side, spooking the pony back from whence it came. “Very few understand much of it over the span of several lifetimes.” The man shrugs at the animal's reaction.

“This is the Afterlife.” Satha acknowledges, unsure of when she learned the term.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she must have died to arrive here. The strangest part of the realization was that she could not recall having a life. The man smirks, realizing she was catching on quicker than the average did.

“Previously unknown thoughts and ideas are swarming your mind right now.” his smile widens as the woman monitors him, intrigued. “As I said, it is like this for many of us when we first reach the Afterlife.”

He continues under her quizzical watch.

“You must be feeling something of a rush right now.” the man says knowingly. “That is the realization that you now know all that there is to know.” abruptly, he touches two fingers to his temple as a sharp pain lances her brain, bringing her to her knees. “The longer you remain, the more of an annoyance it becomes instead of so painful.” The man helps her to her feet. “It happens whenever new knowledge becomes commonplace on the mortal plane.” He says good-naturedly, fully recovering his own composure.

Interested, the man eyes her. Like him, she somehow knew things erased from history.

“Welcome to the Afterlife.” he extends a hand. “My name is Remiel.”

“Satha.” She shakes his hand, knowing what he said was the truth.

“Satha, I think I know where you belong.” Remiel confidently spins on his heel and starts off across the clouds.

Much to his delight, Satha follows without question. ‘Everything is as it should be’, replays in her head like a mantra while tailing him. Truly, this was what the Afterlife was meant to be. Whatever life she had left behind was no more than a forgotten dream.

*

Unseen, two silhouettes track Satha and Remiel’s path. One is a stunning example of the Creator’s existence in their divine splendour. The other was proof of that same Creator’s cruel sense of humour according to mortal standards. Long ears jut out of messy pecan hair and blanched horns sprout from his brow above wide, almond brown eyes.

“Remiel has lured another.” The beauty says softly.

“Apparently.” the other responds huskily. “But, everything is as it should be.” He says with an edge of finality.

“Neither of us would exist were that the whole truth.” mutters the fair one.

“Dina…” The other begins in a disappointed tone.

“I know. I know.” Dina nervously bites her lip, cutting him off.

“This is the nature I was given, much like yours, Michael.” She suggests.

He nods in agreement. Dina was curious where he blindly followed the Word. They could not change themselves however much they might have wanted to.

“We are who we are.” Michael concedes, watching Satha keep stride. “Remiel is an Elder of the Pools, is he not?” He asks in confusion.

“As well as a Seraph.” Dina adds. “Why do you…? she swallows the question, following his line of sight. “Now, that is interesting.”

The two were covering a far greater distance than a newcomer should be capable of doing. What made it more impressive was how few Elders could hold that pace for too long. This woman’s natural aptitude was something Michael normally sought out in inductees to his Search.

“Everything is as it should be.” Dina chides.

Scoffing, Michael spreads his immense hickory coloured wings.

“Time to return to the Search.” he says dismissively. “So we can all get what we want.” Smiling, he lifts off.

Dina watches his form fade into the distance. She saw the allure to his strength which everyone else only attributed to her looks. Her gaze returns to the two making quick progress across the cloudy plains. Remiel was someone who believed that admiring beauty meant possessing it, prior experience with him had made that clear.

Regardless, Dina dare not move against Remiel. Michael would likely consider her an enemy as well if she did. Moreover, Michael would never act unless someone openly challenged his might, or opposed the Creator’s will before him. For now, she would keep watch from afar.

Blurred faces whiz by bathed in varied hues per jewel. Whatever each individual perceived held them in place so firmly that they were blind to onlookers. The idea reminded her so much of confinement that it made her uncomfortable to look at them for too long.

“What are these?” Satha slows, inspecting the featureless faces.

Remiel stops beside her, following her gaze.

“Shards.” he says distastefully. “It is one of the paths one may choose upon arrival.” The man examines a face pressed against a surface, contorted in pleasure.

“They offend you.” The woman pokes her head from around another gem.

“It is an aimless pursuit in the face of this gift.” Disgust is clear in Remy’s tone. “They might as well be among those Below.” he mutters, looking like he would have spit had this not been a sacred place. “They meander so much that they can become a nuisance, as much as those little winged cayuse who at least try to corral them all in one location to their credit.”

Again, Satha knew exactly what Remiel meant. Those above had earned the satisfaction of their lifelong desires while those below were doomed to suffer.

“This is not the place for you.” Someone offers from a cloud of scented smoke spilling from an enormous emerald.

Crowned in pale flowers and tawny brown curls, a man stumbles forward.

“What awaits you is such a higher purpose.” Her reflection swam in his glassy eyes.

“Sel…” Remiel hisses.

“My brother, Remy.” the man wearing the flower crown appears to have just noticed his brother’s presence. “I see, you must be bringing her to those waters you’re so fond of.” The thimble at his waist tinkles lightly at his slightest movement, sending sickly sweet smoke into the air.

The crowned man awkwardly bows.

“I do apologize for interrupting your sightseeing in the Shard Garden.” he says mockingly. “Most who come here do not depart.” Sel clicks his tongue. “At least, not without having spent some more time.” He grins wolfishly.

Remiel gets between the two.

“SELAPHIEL!” he forcefully announces. “Any closer and you will no longer be a Seraph.” His eyes burn with a fire Satha fears would leap out and consume them all.

This stern tone snaps Selaphiel out of his accustomed revelry. He takes a step back with eyes downcast.

“Though this is not your place, you are always welcome.” The man smiles uneasily, withdrawing into an azure shard.

Remy mutters darkly to himself.

“So,” Satha breaks the silence. “That was your brother?” She inquires.

“Unfortunately.” he stares daggers into the spot where his brother had dissolved. “He refuses to directly interact with mortals, yet shamelessly drinks in the pleasure of departed souls.” Remiel fumes.

“Is it only the two of you?” She asks, realizing how little she knew about her companion.

“We are legion.” Remy replies automatically. “But as you can see, we are not all created equal.” he says scornfully.

Everything is as it should be. The phrase repeated endlessly in her thoughts.

“What…are you all?” Satha nervously asks though she felt she knew.

“You know,” the man fixes her with a piercing stare. “Dogs herding the aimless sheep below.” he says grandly. “And now, dear sister, you are one of us.” Remiel excitedly clasps her hands in his.

Like with the white-haired man at the gates, Remiel’s offer of acceptance almost brings her to tears. Fortunately, or perhaps not, she could not recall why such things have this effect. Something more present was bothering her.

“Why is the Garden not my place?” The woman asks, beginning to wonder whether she deserved to be in this part of the Afterlife.

“Because you are meant for more than just a Shard.” Remy grins reassuringly. “Shall we go?” He offers a hand.

The two start off together. Slowly at first; as the woman’s faith in her companion grows, then; as quickly as their initial pace.

“To the Pools…” Satha absentmindedly finishes his statement.

“Yes.” Remiel smiles. “ I feel the role you are meant to play is there.”

Confusion must have shown on her face after they had travelled a little longer because his hearty laugh shakes his entire frame.

“Worry not.” Remy chickles. “Everything is as it should be.” the man says. “Look,” he points ahead. “Here we are now.”

A man leaning against a tall staff comes into view, peering endlessly into the gap between them.

“Raphael.” Remiel greets him as he walks past.

“New Watcher?” Raphael asks dryly, keeping his eyes trained on the empty space.

“Possibly the one that we never knew we needed.” Remy responds, patting the other man on the shoulder. “More capable than most begin, or may ever become.”

Raphael gives her a quick once over with olive green eyes flecked with fiery brown.

“I see.” He returns his gaze to the distance.

Remy leads her further until exclaiming sharply.

“Welcome to the Pools.” He says.

Pockets of shifting colours dot the floor as far as the eye can see. Like the Shard Garden, Satha did not know this place for what it was. Remiel watches her wander curiously among the pools, occasionally peeking inside.

“What are these?” She asks, fascinated.

“Think of each as a looking glass throughout existence.” The man joins in her inspection. “They have been here as long as us, if not longer.” He muses.

As if aware of their presence, the pool’s surface ripples violently, forming an image as it settles. A young man clad in leathers and animal skins camouflages himself among dense foliage, intently tracking something his lean build hid from sight. Suddenly, he burst from his hiding place, swinging down a warhammer in a vicious arc. His prey notices him only seconds before the weapon shatters its skull.

“Each pool allows a look into a fragment of eternity.” Remiel cuts into her mystified observation. “For some of us they represent an opportunity to seek that which makes all.” He strolls among the many windows in the clouds. “We monitor everything for the slightest hint of ITS location.” the man smirks. “The problem is ITS omnipresence.”

“Difficult to pinpoint something that is everywhere.” Satha responds dreamily, watching the man with the hammer cart off his prize.

“Indeed. A process further complicated by the concept of time which exists fixedly for those we oversee given we perceive everything at once.” Remy steps behind her, sending the waters back into a frenzy.

A boy watches a woman draped in black and white feathers slink through the underbrush on an animal’s tail. Notching an arrow in her bow, she inhales deeply and lets her missile fly. Her mark only registers the projectile whistling its way as it settles between the quarry’s eyes. Triumphantly, the woman slings her trophy over her shoulder and heads home. The boy breathlessly watches the scene unfold.

Satha draws close, her eyes filling with visions of the hunter throughout his days. The boy gradually grows as proficient as the plumed woman in picking his way through the trees in pursuit. It was not long before the woman sat perched atop a branch, regarding him with pride.

“Careful.” Remiel cautions. “These waters tend to pull one in.” he deftly skirts the edge of several pools. “Few who fall in can find their way back.” Remy waves a hand over a pool, returning it to a neutral state.

It was then that Satha realized she was holding her breath.

“What do you think I’m meant to do here?” She ponders aloud.

“I think you’re meant to be who watches them.” He responds.

“A Watcher.” The woman repeats breathlessly.

“Yes.” Remiel smiles at her recalling Raphael’s words. “Watch all.” He spreads his arms wide. “Watch any.” the man shrugs. “Either way, I believe you’re more capable than many who have attempted to occupy this role.” Remy says resolutely.

The woman hesitates. Sighing heavily, the man steps back.

“I suppose I’ll have to show you after all.” Remiel says disappointed, allowing gigantic feathered wings to burst from his back. “By doing this, you too can get the wings which those who belong to your plane dream about.”

“Not everyone gets theirs.” Satha says in astonishment. “Like how not everyone can get past the Shard Garden.”

“Few with wings will even offer newcomers the opportunity to earn theirs.” Remy shakes his head.

‘Everything is as it should be,’ springs into her thoughts as if in response.

“Do I just watch?” The woman inquires, defeated.

“You just watch.” Remiel echoes.

“What do I do if someone else is here?” The thought makes her uneasy after all they had seen.

Remy chuckles.

“Not without Raphael’s permission.” he puts up a hand as concern flickers across her face. “He won’t.” Remiel chortles. “You couldn’t stop anyone who can make it this far anyway.”

“What if someone brings them here like you have me?” Satha asks.

“I suppose it is best to keep in mind that few find their way back from these waters should things go awry.” Remy says thoughtfully.

After having watched the hunters, the woman knows what he meant. She felt like she was experiencing the boy’s formative moments herself. The waters sang to her so sweetly she knew she would have succumbed if not for Remiel’s warnings.

“Are you sure that this is for me?” Satha asks again.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel now.” Remy grins. “Raphael would not have let you leave the Shard Garden if I was wrong.” His smile swells with a sense of satisfaction.

Remembering Raphael’s intense stare, the woman finds herself coming to terms with Remiel’s assessment. These Pools were her duty deemed by the Creator.

“I will do my best.” She promises, returning to the Hunter’s Pool.

“I am sure you will.” Remy agrees, watching her for a while before slipping away.

Raphael’s staff stops inches from his brother’s face.

“You knew it was me before you took that swing.” Remiel nudges the weapon away.

“That’s why I swung.” He snarls.

“So, why did you stop?” Remy asks, amused.

“Because as much as I would like to bash your skull in, it would be the wrong thing to do.” Raphael says sullenly, lowering the staff to his side.

“Pity you didn’t think of the right thing then,” Remiel teases. “Don’t you think?” He asks Raphael, standing beside him and facing the opposite direction.

Exhaling heavily, Raphael faces the same direction.

“What would you have me do?” He asks in resignation.

“Take the hunter who fascinates her to our cache once she rests.” Remy thinks for a moment. “The younger man as well as what becomes his prey.”

“You test me but have no words for Michael.” Raphael mutters bitterly.

“Words offer little challenge to a fiery blade.” Remiel replies blankly. “Besides, my brother.” he leers. “Should I fall, so will you.” Remy puts an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “Moreover, who knows what could happen to those in my care after all that?” He suggests.

Tightening the hold on his staff, Raphael nods in agreement. Their lengthy shadows overlap into a mangled monstrosity of arms and legs many times their size.

“Do you really believe she will do it?” Raphael asks in a faraway voice.

“I suppose we will soon find out.” Remiel says pensively as the Shard Garden continues to grow with the arrival of new souls.