43. The Gates of Paradise
Paradise was, as expected, about as far from the Inferno as it could be. Whereas the Inferno existed in a closed off cavern, as devoid of fresh air and the color blue as possible, Paradise’s realm quite literally brought the sky to the earth.
The moment Isaac exited the subway station, he was surrounded by soft, fluffy white clouds that drifted right up to the soft, pale grasses carpeting the rich soil. The sky was a crystalline blue that was easy to get lost in, and the layers of clouds seemingly rose endlessly, floating around an all encompassing sky.
Of course, this was technically just the entrance to the realm. “Paradise” proper, where the angels lived, lay beyond a vast gate that Isaac had never been inside of.
As Isaac walked along the ground, passing through the hanging clouds, a soft breeze whistled past, just cool enough to feel fresh and rejuvenating, but not cold enough to chill. After a few minutes of walking, he paused and stared up at the Paradise gates.
The first time Isaac had come here, he’d admittedly walked straight into them. Thankfully no one had been watching, and in his defense, they were very easy to miss when you weren’t looking closely.
The gates separating the main part of Paradise from the entrance were made of a perfectly reflective substance. The blue sky and drifting clouds were mirrored on the gates’s surface, and only an occasional flash of light at the right angle revealed their true nature. When Isaac pressed a hand to the surface of the gates, they rippled like the surface of a pond, spreading slight distortions in the reflections and shining as the waves caught the light before they eventually settled down. Despite this, whatever material the gates were made of was far, far sturdier than water. It also was apparently a material that could stretch nearly infinitely, seeing as Isaac couldn’t see where the gates ended, not above nor on the sides.
Isaac stared at the gates, and out of a sudden curiosity, he raised his fist and knocked on them four times, just in case the knocking rules of the Inferno were reflected over here.
The gates didn’t open or swallow him into some weird vortex like in the Inferno, but in the next moment, either by coincidence or design, a very familiar blur of giant feathers fell from god knows what height, barreling towards the earth at an alarming speed. Isaac had the foresight to step backwards just in time to get out of the way as the angel spread his wings at the last second and managed to pull up from his nosedive mere inches above the ground. An accompanying gust of wind blew white feathers in Isaac’s direction, which he hacked and spit out.
The first time he’d seen Casimir do this, he’d been kind of impressed, but at this point he’d grown so used to similar stunts that they barely registered anymore. Flicking another feather off of him (sometimes he wondered how much wings shed on average), Isaac frowned.
“So does knocking send out a warning signal or something?”
Casimir shook his wings in much the same way that a wet dog would shake water off. Maybe it helped straighten them out or something. He grinned, and surrounded by the blue skies of Paradise, Isaac noted that the weird ever present angelic glow was a little less prominent than usual.
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“Nope, I was on watch!”
Isaac squinted at him. “Sure.” He continued before Casimir could respond. “Look, this is kind of sudden, and it’s fine if you don’t want to, but I need someone to make a barrier in the Old Lands. It’s that big area on the plains.”
Casimir scrunched his face in thought before, after a few seconds of this, he clapped his hands together with enough force to make a very loud, very sharp sound. “Oh, that place! It’s really nice for flight practice.”
Isaac would take that as confirmation that it was a suitable venue. He nodded. “Yep, there. Do you think you can make a barrier big enough?”
“Duh, of course I can!” Casimir paused, frowning. “Why’d you want a barrier there anyway?”
There it was. Isaac sighed in resignation. “Lilith and Fable are plotting a, uh, special event, and they’re using the place as a venue.” He silently prayed the angel would leave it at that. Of course he didn’t. Why would he?
Casimir took a step forward, eyes practically sparkling with interest. “What kind of event?”
Isaac frowned. “Lilith’s calling it a tournament, but it’s more like a sports festival. Apparently there’ll be different races and competitions and stuff.” He shook his head. “It’s supposed to help people vent.”
As expected, the eagerness in Casimir’s eyes only grew.
“Just so you know,” Isaac hurriedly added, “Most of the participants are between level 10 and 30, so it’ll probably be really boring for you.”
This was true. When Lilith had asked Isaac to check the venue, she’d mentioned an early list of participants was on the tablet. Apparently Fable had already begun spreading advertisements about this thing a few weeks ago, though they hadn’t hit all the major areas yet. Isaac had seen quite a few familiar names on the list, and indeed, the vast majority of the ones signed up fell into the same range of levels.
He supposed that made sense. Creatures over level 30 probably wouldn’t get as much venting from it, and those below level 10 might be worried about publicly humiliating themselves. The only sub level 10 participant was Igor, which he’d expected, while the highest level person who’d signed up was Sharil at level 32. He was okay with that, insofar as Sharil was one of the people he wouldn’t mind winning (which she was very likely to do once they ran the numbers).
Needless to say, a level 91 being had no business in this weird race.
Casimir hummed, but the sound stretched on for way too long. In Casimir speak, that usually meant, “I’m purposely ignoring what you’re saying so I can do things my own way.” Isaac cleared his throat in a half-hearted attempt to interrupt this process.
“So, do you have time to put up the barrier right now?”
“Oh yeah, of course!”
Isaac raised an eyebrow and stared pointedly at the gate. Casimir just laughed and scratched his head. “Eh, Paradise doesn’t need that much guarding.”
“If you say so.” Isaac turned away from the gates to begin the trek back to the station. Even though he was looking, he could tell Casimir was about to speak and made sure to cut him off before he could. “I’m taking the train,” he said firmly. “You can fly if you want.”
Casimir grumbled something behind him, but Isaac ignored the angel. He was not doing that again.