Souls flew among the stars, they cried in songs we did not know, left trails that sparkled in gentle blues, and streaked towards thundering mountains in the distance. Dead, dry husks of enormous demons littered the ground and the undergrowth looked stagnant and brittle.

We flew in silence, aching until we could see Ira’s light in the skies again. And until we reached the walls of the kingdom, exhausted, collapsing, relieved.

I spent a few days in unfamiliar beds being looked after. We were asked questions and waited in moments that felt far too long. But I was just happy to be back.

I awoke my first morning back in my own room. It was always routine to me before. Boring. But its soft colors were welcome. That boring familiarity felt peaceful to me. And so I spent the morning appreciating it.

The tight room was as wide as I was tall. I sat, meditating there. And from my window I looked out at the streets where angels hurried along.

They hopped about roofs in the short beats of their wings. They placed tiles and finished jobs. They way they dragged themselves showed exhaustion, but they sang together, and kept rhythmically going. They sat atop the roofs resting for moments in between, eating, pointing, and looking down at the city below.

An angel trotted along holding a bag of bread, jumping and flapping in the air to go faster. I watched her fall flat on her face several times, but impressively, she never lost any of the bread.

A small squad marched along in a line towards the wall. They had armor of iridescent gold. Their presence menaced the street into silence. The soldiers mumbled amongst themselves in hushed tones. And when they left, the noise grew again.

Two angels played together, a game with the tiles of the road. They stepped onto each other's territory and pushed each other back and forth. They stopped a few times, maybe arguing about rules. And they always went back to playing far more seriously than before. The one in the light blue robe won. I was sure.

And it was boring. And it was lovely.

I’d seen Ahaviah too, tending to her plants in front of her home. I could see her wings, how her soft feathers were now accented by so many blackened chars. I worried for her, and so I’d come over to help with her garden while she was recovering. But then we just kind of started lazing around together, talking and playing.

One of our favorite games was Dance of the Vortex. It was a game about the vortex just past The Misty Mountains. It was an enormous eternal soulstorm with a vortex that erupted from a sea of soulwater. Many angels had battled the demons there. And over many cycles, long ago, a game had taken form.

The pieces were crocheted from a metallic substance which felt slightly rough to the touch. The room was cold and silent. I played angel, she played demon. And we took turns moving one step at a time around the vortex and tried to peek along its edges to fight.

The board was circular, with hexagonal tiles that slotted in its many spaces. They shifted and moved at the random inclination of the storm by rolling dice.

Demons would fight with fire and angels would fight with light. I was at a certain disadvantage in a sense. Destruction was the demon’s game. They could fill the air with flames for moments and those flames could be carried along by the sweeping chaos of the storm. An angel could strike true and far. But how valuable was that when the storm and demon could fill the world with flames?

Ahaviah’s demon moved behind the storm and filled the board with flames before she asked, “Do you… have the knife?”

I pulled something out of a linen bag. It was a knife in a silver, leather-like sheathe. An engraved metal tag dangled from its handle alongside rough gray and blue stones. It wrote, Cassiel.

“It felt weird to see his name. I’d only really thought of him as the captain,” I said. I moved the angel farther away from the vortex. “It makes me feel like I didn’t really know him at all.”

I felt kind of guilty about it. But maybe he’d just kind of preferred that kind of distance.

She held the knife carefully in her hands, unsheathing it and thoughtfully looking along its edge. Deep in thought.

Angels leave no bodies like the demons do. Death means disappearing without a trace. So it was tradition to use the objects they’d carried as a longer lasting memory of them. This was one of the captain’s knives.

She sheathed the knife and put it gently beside our game.

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“I’m just surprised he died at all,” Ahaviah said. “We’d spent many cycles together, escaping things that felt so much worse. Silver wyrms of desolation, demon prince scouts, and swarms of enraged souls. It was just. So quick. So sudden. I didn’t really expect to be a captain so soon. I didn’t expect to be without him.”

The storm shifted and so the map changed. Together Ahaviah and I moved the angel, the demon, and flames.

I felt like I couldn’t really say anything. So I chose to let silence sit in the air for a moment as we played our game.

The shifting of the storm made it really difficult to make any plans or maneuvers. If the storm never interrupted the angel player’s plans, the angel could just take a wide angle and peek at the demon around the vortex and shoot the demon with its longer range. The angel would win every time. And yet, because the map always changes, the demon often wins. How can one be prepared in a world where everything can change in a moment? The only answer I had was to be open to anything. But that’s an awful idea. That means being open to losing. And I didn’t want to lose!

“Ahaviah, thank you… For trying to protect me. For being with me like that,” I said. “ I had felt like I was there for an eternity… but it was calming with you.”

She nodded, “Calming for me too…”

“I know it’s scary, with how everything is changing, but I will be with you Ahaviah,” I said. “I think that if we’re together… things can be calmer like that. Even if it’s hard. Even if it seems impossible.”

She gave me a warm smile, “I’d like that.”

We sat quietly as we played for the rest of the day. The storm shifted and changed the map. It snatched both victory and defeat away. And as time went on, flames filled the map and made it nearly impossible for my angel to move. Still, it only took one lucky sweep of the storm to give my angel the perfect shot, and I won. I felt no closer to understanding how to play better though. It made me feel like chaos was the real victor.

The days with Ahaviah made me feel a kind of peace I hadn’t experienced yet. When I was trying to find a place to work, I had so much free time, but it was all spent alone. This time during recovery felt a little better though, and part of me hoped it’d last longer. After some time though, I’d received a knock on the door.

What welcomed me was an angel wearing dark tones, in an elaborate multiple piece robe, he had toused gray feathers and that same tired look in his eyes. Sofiel. He was the angel that had stood beside Ira when I first came to this world. Beside him were angels in silver colored armor, which was etched in many symbols. They had a fierce, deeply dangerous look about them.

“Hello Mevakiel,” He said. “It’s been awhile.”

I nearly screamed, he scared me when we first met, but I managed to maintain partial composure “H-hello S-sofiel… to what do I owe the p-pleasure?”

I wasn’t really sure whether to bow or to stand or anything. I nervously tried doing some kind of half bow.

“Ahh… I was concerned, but it seems you are the same as ever.”

My heart sank. He was so mean, No wonder his wings are so gray and messy. That was it. I was sure.

He peeked inside my small room, narrowing his eyes, “Let’s talk somewhere more suitable. Follow me.”

I grabbed a few things very quickly. It was terrifying to leave him waiting. And then, when I was ready, I trotted behind him in eerie silence. We walked down the halls, out of my building, and then into the street. Angels gave us glances. Some even waved, but Sofiel at most, only ever returned a look at most to them.

He took me to an enormous, almost militaristic looking building, with very rigid architecture. Near the entrance I could see a large soulwater lake in the distance. The tension of small waves weaved many numerous colors that contrasted the opaque darkness of its calmer waters.

I wonder what it’d be like to swim in that… I thought.

We walked through halls that were packed with serious looking angels holding stacks of papers. We passed elaborate gardens, murals many times my height, and detailed statues of iridescent gold and silver. This place felt so beyond me and the places I’d been living and working in that I started to feel dizzy.

I felt relieved when he brought me into a room and sat me down. It gave me a moment to try to collect myself again. He sat at his desk, and the two armored angels stepped outside to go in front of the door.

He waited for a moment in silence.

Was he giving me a chance to calm down? I wondered.

Suddenly, he spoke up, “I was told that you formed a pact with a spirit. Show me.”

I raised a finger and grew a harmless little crystal flower out of my finger tip. I made it sway in a little dance.

“Hmm… show me your teleportation.”

I phased out of existence and reappeared standing a few steps to the right. And then phased right back into the seat.

He cocked a brow, “You have some unique abilities. Alongside your tolerance of the rain, you have good potential to be a ranger, or other things.”

“U...uhm thank you.”

“Would you accept that?”

“Becoming a ranger? I uhm… I wanted to stay with Ahaviah, to support and be with her…”

“Taking on such a role would mean you might gain an audience with Ira one day you know.”

I hesitated. I remembered all my days wondering about her when I was first settling in. There were so many things I never got to ask her. And now so many questions after meeting the spirit too.

“I don—”

“I would not do something you might regret,” he said. His words carried an urgency I did not understand and the slightest hint of irritation. “Something that could be construed as offensive to her majesty.”

My heart sank, Oh. I didn’t have a choice from the start. I see.

“Okay.” I said, gently nodding. “I’d be a ranger.”

I thought about Ahaviah, I’ll find a way to be there for her. I’ll find a way. I thought of Ira, of her many wings, of her warm smile and confident look. Was this really her will?