She floated through the silvery mist, dazed and only peripherally aware of her surroundings. As the mist thinned, so too did the haze that clouded her thoughts.

Shapes emerged from the mist slowly as she moved forward, unafraid of what might be hidden within. She felt remarkably at peace, which was a bit strange for the perpetually curious woman. It was that very sense of peace that drew her attention.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked aloud, not expecting a reply.

From the surrounding mist, a deep voice responded. “Yes and no. What is a dream if not the manifestations of the soul?”

The non-answer immediately put her on guard. She’d learned long ago to be wary of those kinds of answers. Ashlyn Davis had never been moved by flowery speech.

If this wasn’t a dream, what was it?

Ashlyn remembered sitting on a plane beside her husband, looking out the window at the expansive ocean below. Travis knew she preferred the window seat, so he always insisted she take it even though he was much larger.

To make up for the comfort he yielded, she offered to hold their infant son during the flight. He’d fallen asleep quickly, so it was hardly an inconvenience.

They were going on their first vacation since their son was born and she had been looking forward to it.

Then there was a flash of light and she was here, in this place. If it wasn’t a dream…

She looked down, trying to catch a glimpse of her body. Though her perception changed, all she could see was a hazy, ethereal form vaguely resembling a human body.

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She didn’t panic, which would have surprised her had she not realized something was suppressing her emotions. Even recognizing that fact, she was not bothered. Rationally, she knew she should be freaking out.

“I died,” she said calmly. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” the voice responded, verifying her suspicion.

“My family?” she asked, her question clear.

“Those with you died as well.”

She considered the new information. With severely muted emotions, Ashlyn wondered if she was upset they had died with her or was grateful they wouldn’t have to suffer from her death. Considering the death was painless – which was an assumption based on her own experience – and the fact that there was obviously something after life…

Ashlyn found herself leaning toward gratitude.

Part of her recoiled at her internal response, offended by her thoughts. Whatever dampened her emotions clamped down harder, smothering the budding sentiments.

“Are they here, in this place?” she asked after a few moments spent in contemplation.

After a brief pause, the voice answered. “No, they returned to the cycle of life to be born anew.”

Reincarnation was a thing, apparently. That was good to know. But if they died together, why had she not been reincarnated as well?

Sensing her question, the voice spoke again. “You were selected to become an incarnator. Every billionth soul to pass through the gate is allowed this ability. However, with the boon comes higher standards for progression. If you accept, you will retain your memories henceforth – including those of your most recent life. While the memories will remain, the emotions associated with be limited to allow you to embrace for future lives more fully.”

“What do you mean by ‘progression’?”

“The purpose of life is to improve oneself. While improvement is somewhat subjective, there are metrics in place to gauge how a soul changes and how close one is to ascension.”

She supposed that made sense, in a wuxia kind of way.

“What are the metrics?” she asked the disembodied voice.

The voice shifted pitch, sounding almost mechanical. “You are not authorized that information.”

Well, that was crap! How was she supposed to pass a test without understanding the grading criteria? Still, keeping her knowledge would undoubtedly be helpful.

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“No. Do you accept becoming an incarnator knowing you will be judged more harshly on your path to ascension?”

With only a moment of hesitation, Ashlyn agreed, and the world around her disappeared.