It was another slow day for Talia—another day of approving or denying candidates’ applications.

Three hundred years. It had been three hundred years since anything remotely fun happened in this realm. Three hundred years of the same monotonous thing each and every day.

This wasn’t what she had in mind when she agreed to take over as the master of scales. She had thought she had finally bid farewell to her dull life before—a life spent in nothingness. Adyl had promised her her ennui would be a thing of the past. And it was at first. She had rejoiced in the tales she had heard. She had walked through worlds of fire and woven through paths of light right from the confines of her hall. The candidates were so strong and unique that she devised a test to allow only the best of them to return—which proved to be her biggest mistake.

If only she had listened to Adyl’s words then. But the more candidates passed her tests, the more intricate and dangerous she made them. So much so that now, were she to send any of the unfortunate souls dwelling in her halls, none of those losers would pass the first—and easiest—of them.

She often found herself approving the candidates, bypassing the tests, and easing the load of paperwork she would otherwise be saddled with.

She glanced out the window, peering down at the long line of souls awaiting her judgment. She sighed. Not a thousand years into the job, she was already thinking about quitting. Not that she would be able to find a replacement anytime soon. Her domain was quite infamous for its chaos. No one wanted to be stuck with weeping souls, lamenting their inability to return to their world.

A movement outside, away from the crowd of candidates, attracted her attention. She paused, watching the lone soul outside walking leisurely around the garden. She watched as the lone young man strolled around the flower beds. He leaned forward, sniffing the fragrance of the gardenia, uncaring about the riots happening a few distance away.

“Aseel,” she called, her eyes not straying from the curious sight. She had never seen a soul this much at peace. They would usually step over one another to leave this place sooner. Even with all the benefits it came with—no rent, no nourishment to sustain their life. They might wander around her domain for thousands of years—if so was their original life expectancy—with no need for sustenance. Even breathing was but a memory their souls brought from their worlds. Talia had seen souls forgo breathing after spending long enough trapped here.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Aseel stood beside her, peering at what got her interested, his hand busy scooping a spoonful of ice cream to shove into his giant maw. His snake-like tongue licked his jagged teeth.

He often forgot to maintain his human appearance when alone with her. She could still remember the day he had bawled his beady eyes out when she told him she didn’t mind the sight of him. The human form was too confining for him, he had complained.

“Do you know who that might be?” she asked.

He hummed, his forehead scrunching in thought. “I've seen him lurk around for a time now. Though, I know nothing except his name.”

Talia squinted her eyes to better see the man’s name. But sadly, the distance was too great for her to read the smudge floating over his head.

All souls had their names written over their heads, floating in the distinct language of Idir, the realm between realms. Only those naive to this world would be able to see it.

“ Weylin Sywardus,” Aseel said around another spoonful.

“He’s never applied for a second chance?” Talia asked with a raised eyebrow.

Aseel shook his head, his attention turned to the bucket held carefully in his claws.

How could such a thing be? In all her time here, she’d never seen anyone contend with spending what remained of their natural life without trying—even once—for a second chance. Heck, she had to make a rule that a soul can only apply once every five years after seeing a certain face twice a week despite denying his application each time.

Speaking of which. She turned her head to the horde at the door. She could see that certain soul lurking around the crowd, looking for any crack or crevice in the line to slither in. Had it already been five years since his last refusal? Strange how time seemed to fly with all the paperwork.

She sighed. Better get back to work. She still had thousands of applications for today alone.

As for tomorrow… she set a last glance at the lone figure who ventured deeper into the garden and was heading to the veranda.

“Get me any information you could find on him,” she instructed Aseel.

Maybe, maybe something interesting could come out of this. Someone who never bothered with a second chance? That was unheard of.

Not now, she told herself, quieting down the buried voice inside her that longed for something other than a mountain of paperwork and uninteresting tales of unlucky and foolish souls. Now, she needed to work.

“Gt the next applicant,” she said as she headed towards her chair.