Ashes

Azrael clutched her as the world would shatter if he let her go, the pain he was experiencing paralyzing him. He was left feeling nothing but agony, tears falling from his eyes onto her bloody cheeks, and she fell cell by cell, fiber by fiber, in his arms, turning to dust and being picked up by the wind. He could have made it painless for her if he had wanted, but instead, she died in agony due to his stubbornness. He couldn’t lose her to Realm of Light because he was a coward.

“It is not the end, Azrael,” Sahir’s neutral voice reached him, and Azrael raised his head, his eyes hollow and empty.

“Why did you bring her here?” He asked.

“What could you possibly achieve?” Azrael snatched Sahir’s collar.

“What are you going to do? huh?” Sahir challenged, “Kill me?” He smirked. Azrael’s eyes flared up again, this time in a rage, and tears fell from them.

“Is this some sick revenge scheme of yours? For What I did all those years ago!” Azrael growled

“Good Lord, isn’t it tempting?”

“What now?” “Are we even?” Azrael hissed.

“Let go of my collar,” Sahir rolled his eyes.

“Fight me!”

“No,” Sahir said, grabbing Azrael’s hand and attempting to break free from his grip. He jerks once and twice, but Azrael’s grip remains firm. It was not as easy as before because he was more robust, and this power was not motivated by wrath or anguish, which took Sahir by surprise. This was more unexpected.

“This is interesting,” Sahir commented as he watched Azrael’s eyes turn sapphire blue, and the paleness in his complexion and black overtones disappeared. The tears…

“Look at yourself, Azrael,”

“What?” Azrael’s face wrinkled in uncertainty and anguish.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

“Does witnessing your darling die in your arms break your heart?” “To witness her dissolve to ash and then to nothing,” Sahir’s eyes twinkled.

Azrael took a step back, defeated by his brother’s wicked glee.

“How did it feel?” Sahir hissed.

“This has all been about vengeance for you,” Azrael turns back, still feeling the shaking fingers as her dust slipped through them before his lips touched her and plucked her soul from her body. He’d never see her again. Her soul doesn’t even have enough power to go through the underworld. She achieves absolution right in front of him. She doesn’t exist anymore.

“Can you recall when you took her?” Sahir asked.

Her, Azrael’s memories were false behind his eyes. It was distant, like a long-forgotten dream. He felt nothing at the time. She was another mortal soul, too, but she was more than that to Sahir. He begged for her.

“Do you remember now?!” snarled Sahir.

Azrael shuts his eyes and recalls the days before Natasha. He recalls being a soulless, unfeeling emptiness. Two thousand years ago.

“Do you remember what was before the Ghost wars?” Sahir hissed.

“Do you remember what you did after it?” Sahir’s hollow ache is aggravated, and the shadows scream.

The seventh cycle of Creation in the middle age after the prehistoric peace war.

Azrael and Sahir’s eldest brother Ishah has been crowned Emperor of the Realm of Light. Their father was a celebrated ruler; for thousands of years, he ruled with peace in the Seven realms. He and Mother chose that as the end of their journey and went into seclusion to take their fatal trial and dissolve into nothingness. The Ghost Emperor Abigor saw an opportunity.

It felt like the end was near, the second biggest crisis after the old wars.

The God of War Virat, his Master as the Commander in Chief. Sahir and Azrael were under him. They thought the war would end in three days. After all, What could stand against the celestial army of the Realm of Light and the Realm of Illusion. They were undefeated. His master said they should never underestimate the enemy, which was proven right. One of their spies in the enemy army informed them of something unimaginable.

The Ghost Emperor was using old forbidden magic to suck out the three elements of life from the Creation.

Before they could stop him, the ritual had already started, and the whole Creation would have been destroyed even if they had prevented it. As a result, Azrael could never forget the sight of the blinding blood-red light in that deserted realm that took half of the lives of the Ghost Emperor’s subjects with their army.

“Sahir!” Aris cries out, terrified, as Azrael snaps out of his thoughts.

Azrael remembers everything; they all had a role to play in the war. Sahir was in charge of the Creation’s elements. Ishah was defending the Realm of Light, and he…

“You…” Azrael did nothing to stop Sahir’s threat.

“You did something noble as well as dumb,”

Life, Love, and Light were all taken away. Trapped in the darkness, an infinite space that no one could reach. To undo the spell. The God of War follows the depth of the cosmos. The elements began to fade and shrink, taking a physical form; the mortal realm, the celestial realm, and even the darker corner of Creation were affected. Without energy, people were ill and died before their time, and natural resources dried up; without love, humankind was lost; without light, even the Realm of Light could not sustain itself. Celestial beings, too, lost their powers, threatening the delicate balance of Creation. He cannot witness people dying, murdering each other, or freezing to death. There is no light, no warmth. Cold and lifeless. Something had to be done while Sahir was now acting Commander in Chief and Ishah kept the balance of the Realm of Light.

“I did it to save the mortals!” Azrael stood up; what else was he supposed to do at the time?

“No, it is not your fault. All you did was give up everything!” Sahir hissed. “Everything that made you divine, I paid the price!”

“You chose to cast the spell! You choose to give away your divinity, your feeling of life, your heartbeats, and your blood! Everything that could make you feel! Everything may have told you that taking an innocent young woman was wrong.” Sahir took a step back, trying to feel the moment’s satisfaction. He waited for this moment for two thousand years.

“She had no idea what she had done!”

“Yet you punished her! Because you were cursed! Because you were concerned about the flames that would have to engulf you! You punished me!” Sahir punched him. Azrael touched his lips, and they began to bleed. It aches. He could feel the warmth of blood pouring through him. He gazed at Sahir, stunned.

“Look at yourself, Azrael. Do you feel it now?” He looked into Azrael’s eyes. “Does it hurt?”

Azrael stands there speechless, his inside burned in dry agony and the anguish he has to live with because he has to live without her. He prayed for numbness, unconsciousness, and emptiness, but it didn’t come, and he felt like he was being split in half. He can’t get his eyes to focus anywhere, and everything hurts.

“Fortunately for you, brother; she is not a mortal soul.”

* * *

Natasha

Natasha remembers a flower, an orange-red-blue flower with color mingled in strips from its neck to its petal; she thinks that bloom was once her. She couldn’t feel anything, but she could feel and hear. She recalls becoming that flower. She remembers her last moments as that flower. She could hear two distinct voices arguing. Two men. They were brothers.

“Please, I ask you. Stop him; it’s not her fault!” The voice was familiar but distinct. She could sense the man’s agony and grief.

“I know,” the other brother consoled, “he is now cursed, and the spell has taken his sense of humanity; he doesn’t even know who he is anymore.”

“Does this imply you won’t stop him?” She was terrified by the way the voice sank in response.

“It’s also true that if she survives….” The other voice faded off, apologetic yet calm.

“You…” the voice shuddered. “You want him to do this,”

“Brother, I will prologue you to forget….”

“No, You…” the man said with a hollow, lifeless laugh, “If he reaps her, I destroy him.”

“He won’t feel anything; it won’t matter to him,”

“Then I’ll wait till the day he feels, and then I’ll destroy him!” The man hissed.

She knew she hit the earth after it, crushed under mortal boots, and then she heard a voice, the voice of the calm brother.

“This is the end of your life here, may you manifest one day in what you were meant to be,” it was reassuring as she drifted away and her petal turned to dust.

She remembers being a seed, growing into a plant, and ultimately being able to breathe above the soil. The pain of being dragged away from the roots, leaving the comforting moist earth, turned the sun into her enemy, sucking out all the life energy and her breath left her, her leaves turned to dust, and she faded. She recalls being in the breeze, hearing the talk, laughter, tears, grief, sorrow, heartbreak, and love that lasted more than a few lifetimes. She could sense people in the wind and feel gratitude when they were under her branches when she was a tree. She enjoys the children’s laughter as they chase her, imagining her gorgeous wings as a butterfly. She knew what it was like to be hunted like a deer by a wolf, lion, or tiger. She knew she was defeated in that race of life till one predator caught her and clutched her under their feet. Sometimes her neck is broken, and sometimes her throat is torn, but she cannot escape because her predator will sink its teeth into her flesh and drain her life. She knew the agony of one soul being ripped from the body; she knew what it was like to run a forest, to be faster and stronger and insane with hunger. To kill to satisfy until the next hunger come, driving away all senses and falling for the bait, an easy kill and finding the arrow shot into your gut.

She remembers being a soul and opening her eyes once, fearing for the anguish to hit again, but it doesn’t. Instead, it’s a black sky and barren terrain; the trees here are different, black, and frightening. What’s strange now is that she’s standing on two legs. She has two feet and two hands. She is taller and dresses. The tree, the tall, gloomy sky, polls every few yards away, holding torches, she turns to take in her surroundings, and there is a castle constructed of stone and Grey that seems to touch the sky. Once, she was caught in a spot like this when she flew inside, unknowing as a bird. Her experience was unpleasant. She shuddered but couldn’t take her gaze away from the magnificent tower and a man standing apart and alone in one of the towers.

“You were supposed to go to this side,” an elderly man with a friendly smile stated behind her. She looks around.

“You’re in the underworld, and your soul has evolved.” “You can now take birth as a human.”

She had no idea what that meant, but she did recall shifting forms. She deduces that it is only a part of it. The older man motioned to another younger woman holding parchment and a pen.

“Please follow me,” she said, wiggling her toes. When she moved, the earth gave her a peculiar sensation, and she turned to look back at the castle, but there was no one in the tower. She turns around and follows the lady.

She led her to a calm river surrounded by cliffs and dry trees, dead tree stumps. The bank had several small boat ties, and then on the far corner, there was a giant one with unusual designs, a pol tied to the end, and a lantern dangling from it. The lady in black robes and a charming smile tells her to sit in the boat, but every ship has carving, which she doesn’t understand. A ferryman arrived wearing an old faded cotton shirt and breeches. He sat on the boat with the lamp in his hand, the ship moved, and there was no ripple in the water. She and a few others sat aboard the boat. An elderly man looking down in his palm dejectedly mumbling something along the lines of ‘there is so much I could have done, all of it to waste’ kept repeating itself.

“Don’t worry,” the man sitting near him remarked, looking middle-aged with glass in his eyes. His stomach was going to rip the waistband of his breeches.

“We’re going to the next life; you must let go of the past now, you know?” Try to think about what you want in your next life, and I won’t mind having excellent looks. I was wealthy in this life, but I never had a wife or children, you know? “I want to start a family.”

The boat began to move, and she attempted to see through the water, but there was no movement. It remains completely still and black.

“What would you desire in your next life, young miss?”

She looked at the man with wide eyes, surprised by the sudden question directed at her.

“Were you mute in this life?” the man inquired politely.

“What does she know?” She has never heard of human speech, and this will be her first birth as one,” The ferryman stated in a gruff voice as if he’d had a cold for months.

“Can she comprehend us?”

She nodded and turned back to avoid more talk. They were far from the bank, but she could still see the castle and the man standing in the tower.

She’s curious about who he is. Her thoughts soon fade away. She was born and died within two days due to premature birth, and the village physician was powerless to help. That’s what the lady in black clothes wrote on the paper as she was put back on the boat and turned to see the guy in black robes standing on the cliff, and there was something melancholy about the way he stood looking at the infinite sky. His gaze shifts to her side, the boat shakes, and before her thoughts vanish, she notices his blank stare.

She saw him again going by the river the next time, but he was far away. Everyone bowed to him, some warily, some nervously, and some cordially. She couldn’t catch his glance, he didn’t turn, and he was out of sight. She settled onto the boat she was sharing with a queen from the life she had just left. Whose nose appears to be in, as if she smells something awful, and a lovely elderly couple. Natasha was born in a Greek village and died from brain fever at age five because her parents were poor and couldn’t afford medicine. She continued to look down at the water, waiting for it to stir. It didn’t.

“No, ma’am, I assure you, you were not murdered,” a youthful guardian of death insisted to a middle-aged woman on the line next to her. Natasha was waiting in line for her turn, which was quite long. The middle-aged woman insisted that her brother murdered her. The young Guardian wipes his brow, attempting to control her.

She recognizes the now-familiar lady in a black robe and grins as she approaches.

“You died again?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and looking down at her parchment.

“It appears to be a theme here,” Natasha chuckled.

“You just die too young, age?”

“Fifteen,” “Death cause?”

“Poison,”

“Murdered?” The lady raised her brow again. Natasha’s focus shifted to her recently ended life; she was born into a duke’s family in England, lived a luxurious but limited existence, and lost her mother to illness and mistreatment by her stepmother. It’s better this way. It seems good to have her back in the underworld instead of wherever she went.

“Stepmother,” she said.

Lady shook her head in disappointment as she turned back to see the castle, looking for that aloof man, and found him standing like an eerie piece of the statue on the wall. The wind is picking up, and his figure appears to rip the current in half.

“Off you go,” The lady proclaimed, and she continued looking over her shoulder as she proceeded, she settled into the boat, and this time she was the sole passenger in her boat. Her thoughts faded as she tried to hold him in her eyes.

Lives were cut short, and the afterlife is spent searching for the aloof man’s stare, which can be found in the castle, by the boats, or standing on a cliff. She once saw him on the enormous boat with its lamp stand. She took the same roads and boated through the same river. Not knowing what would happen next…

“Age of death?” the guardian lady inquired. She was dressed in a pencil skirt and a silk top today.

“Eighteen,” she said.

“Reason?”

“Car crash,” she said, sad. She never lived to be eighteen entirely and never got to experience life.

The lady sighed, “this is the final time,” she looked at her, and the old Guardian approached her. “He will lead you to your boat,” she follows the Guardian only to be halted, wondering what the lady said. The last time?

They came along the river but were far away from the line of boats and close to the big one.

When did she ask the Guardian what this meant? He appeared in front of her, standing tall, scary, and demanding her attention in long robes, hood, and mask, only his blue-red eyes visible.

“My lord, this is the soul you must lead in the next life, and it is her last,” the Guardian added.

The man gives a curt nod.

“What do you mean it’s my last?”

The Guardian smiled and went away.

“What does it imply that this is my last?” She inquired of the gentleman.

“Get on the boat,” he said and sat down. Is this Natasha’s final life? She looks at him, hoping for an answer. He stirs the boat, and they separate from the bank. The scorching question she’d had since entering the underworld was now blistering her tongue.

“Who are you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Natasha felt an uncomfortable pressure in her chest, her eyes darting around, looking for something to anchor her mounting worry. Still, she discovered decay, desiccated trees, desolate ground, and a river that didn’t flow.

“What the guardian stated, does this mean this is my last life?” He halted when she met his gaze; for a brief moment, there was light in his soulless eyes. Her heart fell as time passed, and she began to give up. She won’t get any responses.

“Yes,” He finally answered, and she couldn’t stop asking questions.

‘How could that be?’ “What happens after that?”

“You can go to the Realm of Light,”

“What exactly is it?”

“Heaven”

“Are you sure this is going to end?”

“Yes,”

“No,” she said.

“Many people want to go to Realm of Light,” he remarked, puzzled.

“Will I die young again?”

“Probably,”

“I want to live,”

“You lived numerous lifetimes,”

“Yes, but I never, ever lived it completely.” She explained, “I have always died too early; I have never experienced growing old, becoming something, or falling in love.”

He stared at her, and she waited for him to realize her predicament. She has no idea why she expects it.

“There is nothing that could be done,”

She averted her gaze, despondent, as her thoughts and recollection faded. She was born Natasha, nearly died at age twelve, lost her parents at eighteen, became a doctor, fell in love with the Lord of Death, and died in the shadow world turning into ash.

Natasha’s mortal soul was granted absolution.