Jacob was amazed that his experience with Jared had taken the entirety of a year. He had felt every minute of the year through his weighted chains. Yet he had lived the year in a single, stretched day, witnessing tens of thousands of good, bad, and evil acts.

Jacob knew he had seen only a fraction of the actual acts and events that had transpired, and the thought brought more sorrow than joy to his heart. Knowing that even one act of evil was taking place seemed to rob the thousands of dedicated acts of faith and hope. Jacob did not know if there was a balance to such things and prayed that the evil did not drown out the love he had seen.

Jacob prayed.

He had never sincerely prayed in his life, and in death, he had felt it pointless as if the chance to pray had passed him by. Yet he found himself weeping in prayer while floating in chains alone in a church, his chains dragging at his body as a reminder of his damnation. He prayed for an unknown period of time. The more he remembered the families and acts he had witnessed, the good and the bad, the more he prayed. He felt his chains pulling him down until he was on his knees, yet on and on he prayed.

He prayed for those who held onto their faith, for their light to shine unto others, that someone like himself who had not yet tasted the bitterness of death could find redemption through that light. He prayed that those in discord with their fellow man could have their hearts softened through the word of God, that they could see the light of those around them and be given the opportunity to make amends with those they had offended, and redeem themselves from the torment of their own making. He prayed for those damned souls who had created an eternal burning for themselves, that even they could find redemption.

He prayed not for himself, but for the world, for the human race, that the Light of Christ could shine down upon all mankind and turn their hearts to one another. That charity, mercy, forbearance, benevolence, and the common welfare could be sewn into the hearts of all people. He prayed that his chains could be made a testament to someone, anyone, so he could have the opportunity to save just one soul from his own fate. That they could spread their love to others and change the world, if only for a single person.

Jacob felt a hand upon his shoulder, and he looked up to find Daniel standing over him, a hand outstretched to pull him to his feet. He took the offered hand and was pulled to his feet with no visible effort from the boy. Daniel beamed at him with a wide smile.

“Well done, Jacob, well done. You have come to know many things,” Daniel said proudly. “I do not doubt that you now understand the word of God, if only through seeing it acted out through the lives of others.”

Jacob returned the boy’s smile, though it was hampered by the crushing weight of his chains and a wave of exhaustion. He looked around for Andrew and found him standing at the pulpit facing Jacob. Jacob was unsure if he floated behind the pulpit, or if reality was shifted somehow, but the pulpit seemed to fit the boy as if his height was no obstacle.

“Jacob, are you ready?”

Jacob hesitated before responding.

“I believe I am ready, but there is much I do not understand. From my perspective I have already been judged, a verdict reached, and a punishment given” Jacob said, lifting the shackles on his arms to make his point.

“And yet you have not been judged, there has been no verdict reached, and no punishment given,” Andrew said, and then fell silent as he waited for Jacob to reply.

“I know the chains upon my person were forged by my misdeeds. They are of my own creation, and as I have been told numerous times, I can do nothing to save myself from them. Is there then a punishment through judgment that will be heaped upon me as well?” Jacob asked, horrified at having to endure more than the chains, the reminders, and the exhaustion.

“All may come to pass I am afraid,” Andrew said with a sympathetic voice.

Jacob stood without saying a word for a long time. He felt anger welling up within him when he thought of enduring an even worse torment, but then he remembered the words of his prayer he had been uttering just moments ago. The words reminded him of why he was praying, of what he felt now for his fellow man, and his earnest desire to help someone, anyone. He had asked for a chance to use his torment to help just one soul in prayer, and perhaps his prayer would be answered. That would be worth all the punishment in existence, to save just one soul.

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“I am ready,” Jacob said firmly, fully prepared to receive his punishment, already assuming his guilty verdict.

“Very well,” Andrew said, gesturing to his brother to proceed.

A shelf appeared in the air next to Daniel, and on the shelf was a book bearing a plain torch. Jacob felt relief at seeing the plainness of the book’s cover, grateful that there were no black flames on its surface. Daniel took the book and handed it to his brother as the shelf disappeared, before taking a seat on a bench facing Jacob.

Andrew placed the book on the pulpit and opened it. A light shone upward from the book and an image appeared, and in its light shone a young boy of about eight years of age, sitting alone by a small fireplace. Jacob did not recognize the boy.

“The year 1793 you spent much of your time home alone with a nanny to care for you,” Andrew said as if he was reading from the book.

Jacob was amazed to realize that the boy in the image was himself. He did not remember the specific moment, although he would have had a different perspective of it. His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of an elderly woman in the church with them.

“Charis, please tell us about young Jacob Marley in this particular year,” Andrew said to the woman.

Jacob realized that this was the nanny from his boyhood, but he did not remember her very well. The woman answered Andrew’s question with a steady voice, and as Jacob looked upon her she began to shimmer and change before his eyes. In moments, she was a young woman in the prime of her life wearing flowing white robes, and it occurred to Jacob that only he had seen her as an old woman so that he could remember who she was.

Charis answered all of Andrew’s questions concerning Jacob in that year. They discussed his character and personality, the difficulty he had with the frequent absence of his parents, and his relationships with friends, strangers, and family. They discussed educational pursuits and hobbies and eventually came around to church attendance and religious belief. They discussed at length all of these topics. Some Charis was able to answer in great detail, others with simple facts. Eventually, Andrew thanked her for her testimony, and without looking at Jacob she disappeared.

Andrew turned the page in the book and a new image of the boy appeared in the light coming from the book.

“The year of 1794 was very similar to the previous year in most regards, except your mother was taken ill, and spent much more time with you than usual.”

Jacob was struck to his core when his mother appeared before him, her back facing him as she testified of his actions in that calendar year. Jacob had longed for her affection in life and mourned her passing in his youth. He wanted her to turn and speak to him, but somewhere in his heart, he knew that was not possible.

Andrew asked her all of the same questions, and her words were brutally honest, even incriminating herself as a neglectful mother in some regards. She showed no sign of remorse or guilt as if she had found peace with the concept. Jacob found himself crying at her words, buried memories surfacing. Many of longing and loss. Few of feeling mutually loved and cared for.

Then she was gone, only to be replaced by Charis again, and the pattern continued year after year of his lifetime.

Jacob began to realize that whoever had spent the most time with him within the scrutinized year was the person who was called to testify of him. The testimony was not for or against him in any way, but it was specific and honest to its core. He saw his mother a few times before she passed, and his father only once. He had several nannies or professors from his boarding school who appear, all in familiar worldly appearances before changing to their actual, glowing selves.

Then Jacob began to see people testifying of his early adult years, just past his education when he became an apprentice. He had an early flatmate testify, followed by several business partners he knew before he met Ebenezer. Some of them were even fettered in chains like himself, yet they stood and testified all the same as if they had done so countless times before disappearing as quickly as they had come. Many of them testified of his income-driven mind, wishing to grow his power through his pocketbook.

Then there came the years when the person Jacob had spent most of his time with was still living, and in those instances, Jared would appear and witness for his actions in that year. Andrew would ask him the same questions he asked everyone else as if Jared had been the sole companion to Jacob in that year, and Jared answered as readily as Jacob’s mother had answered.

Finally, it was done. Every year reviewed, every year analyzed, even down to the smallest personality trait. No specific sins or transgressions were discussed. No crimes against mankind or discussion of punishment or torment. All that was discussed was Jacob and his life, in its entirety, and what he did and did not do with the life he had been given.

Then it was over. The benches facing Jacob disappeared, the book with the torch disappeared, and in no time at all Daniel and Andrew were standing in front of him as if nothing had transpired.

“Jacob, we will break to deliberate” Andrew said before disappearing.

“Today is the sixth anniversary of your death,” Daniel said before leaving to join his brother wherever he had gone.