I felt him running away in despair.

Terrifying to see his blood running through his trembling fingers. His soul is flaming with fear. A sensation those creatures had never known. His silent screams and begging were heard by the shadows. Something jolted the shadows to their core, sending shivers down my spine.

I saw him moving between Cupids looking for someone, but I couldn’t tell until he found the wine house and saw me. He noticed the shadows swirling over his unseen body, smelling fear emanating from him.

I don’t know this Mariat, I know another one, he was a good friend, but I sensed this one had a good soul as well. He seemed to recognize me, or I believe he knew another Rayan.

I didn’t know and didn’t care. His strange present was bizarre enough that I didn’t ask any further questions. I noticed his clear eyes turning human as he moved his hood slightly. I was astounded.

I’m not going to lie, seeing his eyes almost made the shadows flee. He suddenly moved his hand and grabbed it. His voice echoed in my mind, telling me what had happened to him. Osir’s deception nearly cost him his life.

Again.

You know the old tales of the ancient ones about how they created the seven kingdoms. To some extent, it is true, but there is one story that no one dares to keep in public records. An incident that nearly cost the universe its own existence.

The ancient ones all existed in one reality, and all creatures coexisted peacefully under one timeline. The Divines interacted with other creatures but never intervened in their affairs until one Divine changed everything.

Osir was the ruler of his troop. He was wise, never interfered, and never violated the rules or their immortal oath. At the time, he was known as The Angel of Death. He assisted humans in transitioning from one life to the next, but he was only a passenger on their long journey to the Duat, where they would be transformed into their next life.

I recall how my elders told the story, how nervous they became just recalling that morning, the day one name was added to the list of the dead. Kiya, the lost princess of Assyria.

Death is a baffling aspect of life. Even the angel of death couldn’t comprehend how difficult it was. Nobody knew what happened to souls who entered the Duat. Even Osir wondered if souls did anything before being born into their next life.

His curiosity grew with each soul he accompanied, especially when the ride began to change. Some were destined to walk on a leisurely ride just moving from door to door, smiling and happy. Some were terrified yet the road was still the same, simple, and quick.

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Osir and his troop had no idea who they took away because they were all humans to them. Stupid creatures with extremely powerful abilities. My grandmother used to say that Osir was a wise Divine who never questioned his role. He had never cared about humans before, but everything changed that day.

In their luminous realm, names of deceased souls appear in the mystical silver acacia tree. Its leaves were finely divided leaflets, giving the leafstalk a feathery appearance. When a soul dies, one leaf falls to the ground, vanishes, and reappears in Osir’s hand.

In complete silence, he stared at the luminous silver tree, waiting for the next leaf to fall. Beautiful and calming. The leaf flew through the air, disappearing slowly before vibrating over his open palm, revealing the soul’s name and companion. He didn’t get any names for a while. He waited patiently for each leaf, hoping to see his name engraved on its tiny pieces.

Their soul names appeared alongside their mother’s. A few information to assist them in locating the correct soul. On his left palm, he felt a small vibration. He took a deep breath and looked at the gleaming silver leaf. His name was written in black ink on one side, and the name of the soul was written on the other.

Kiya, Satiah’s daughter and the lost princess of Assyria. Death time; dawn in three days.

Lost princess? He thought. Nothing distinguishes her or her soul. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but no one was standing next to him. “You can’t be here, Azazel.” He turned and spoke. Azazel’s laughter filled the room, and his body gradually appeared across Osir’s eyes.

Azazel, unlike the others, wore no hood and had a radiant smile and kind eyes. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and Gabriela informed me that you haven’t received any names.”

Osir wrapped his hand around the leaf and said, “That’s old news, I just got one.” Azazel got excited and demanded to see the name, so Osir showed him the leaf. The name seemed to amuse Azazel. He began to circle the tree.

“I’ve always wanted to see beyond the name,” Azazel exclaimed abruptly. “Mariat is very fortunate to have witnessed their growth.” He hummed as he looked up at the thick branches.

“They’re not that unique; they’re just weak humans.”

“No, they are the chosen ones... born with great destiny... with a chance to live... laugh, and love,” Azazel said, his gaze fixed on him. “Have you ever considered what human emotions are? What makes them so strong and soul-breaking?”

“No,” he simply stated, but he was thinking about his words more intensely than he could ever admit. “It’s always strange how emotional they get when I walk with them down the road. It’s odd how the people they left are weak and sad.”

“They are wise, they prophesy such mighty fates... do you think they die old simply because it’s their time, or...?”

Curiosity had taken root within him, whispering of a world beyond their own, a world full of emotions and enigma lives. Azazel caught glimpses of curiosity emanating from Osir’s luminous skin. Azazel simply nodded and said, “I wonder, too, what makes them so vulnerable yet so strong and powerful. I have an idea, why don’t we take a look?”

Osir didn’t seem to grasp what Azazel was implying. “Do you mean—”

“Look into her life to see how and why she died,” Azazel said, smiling fondly at him.