by Abra Ebner
A small blonde boy in striped overalls rode along the sidewalk on a tricycle. He looked up at us and smiled. His gaze lingered on Eliza. “Hello, Elly!” He cried happily, waving with one hand as the front wheel of his tricycle wobbled.
She waved back with a small, sweet smile.
I looked at Eliza. “A friend of yours?”
She nodded fondly.
“Are you a teacher?” I guessed.
Eliza giggled uncontrollably. “Me? A teacher?”
I shrugged and stood tall again, not seeing what was so funny about it. “You’re doing a good job teaching me,” I offered.
She controlled her laughter, one hand on her stomach. “But I’m not the type of teacher you have your mind set on. I’m not a kindergarten or school type teacher. Besides, I look too young for that. I doubt they’d take me seriously in that role.”
We were still standing on the sidewalk opposite the park. “Then what kind of teacher are you?”
Eliza stepped off the curb. “You’ll see!” she griped. “No patience . . .” she mumbled under her breath.
I followed her across the cobbled road. For all the roads here, I sure hadn’t seen many cars. I didn’t know why, and I wasn’t about to speculate. I was finding that it was far simpler to accept things for what they were. Still, I could not accept the mystery of what it was Eliza did.
We walked into the park that was gated all around as far as I could see. The gate was at least twice my height and made of black iron. Each iron bar was topped with sharp, ominous arrows and the sections were divided by vertical grey stone obelisks. Trees, simple and large, loomed over us. The leaves were a surreal green and shaped like tear drops, waxy as they reflected the sunlight. Below our feet was a cobbled path, perfectly patterned without a single weed growing between the stones. Despite their tidiness, it was obvious that they were still well worn, walked over time and time again by many people, coming and going.
We walked leisurely along the gently arching path that soon led to a small lake. Here, the water was alive with life both animal and otherwise. Toy boats navigated miniature waves, chased along the shore by groups of small children, all seemly unsupervised. A splash sent a group of girls into a fit of laughter. I looked for the source of their amusement, amazed when an otter popped its head above the water, grasping one of the toy boats and floating it on its tummy. Where were their parents?
“Some are far older than you. They may look like children and act like children, but as far as their knowledge and age goes they are no different than me—smart beyond their physical years. For many, they choose to remain childish. I, on the other hand, have chosen to grow up. I was never really a child anyway. In short, they don’t require parents, and what are parents but a life lived alongside our own? You and your father are no more related than you and I are. It’s all a matter of who you’re born to in your next life. You’ve had other parents, you just don’t remember them.”
I was blown away by the concept. My father was not really my father at all, but more like a companion and guide—probably one of many at that. Looking away from the children, I finally saw a few adults strolling along the outskirts. They walked alone, in pairs, or groups deeply lost in conversation. They discussed what seemed serious subjects, but their voices were too low to key in. Looking at Eliza, however, I saw that she knew. There was a smile on her face.
“Where’s the temple?” All this beauty but I had yet to see a temple of any kind.
Eliza lifted her hand and led me to the right. She didn’t answer my question as we went on, rather inviting me to enjoy the surroundings in silence. I bit my lip, too anxious to do as she wanted, too excited to see this place that so far felt like the center of this world. We rounded the lake and I watched a pair of swans paddle to and fro along beside us. They seemed to watch Eliza with adoration.
Finally, we arrived at another open gate. It arched gently, inviting us in. Just inside the gate I saw why—it was designed to. An overwhelming sense of arrival prevailed over me, my eyes almost squinting against the bright joy of this place. The entire area was shaped in a large circle. Stairs, about fifteen, stepped up to a center area I could not yet see. I was filled with hope, happiness, and a general feeling of euphoria. On the steps people sat talking and smiling. Again, some were deep in serious conversation, but some not.
We approached the stone steps and began to climb. Quickly, what was above came into view with each step. At first I didn’t understand just what it was I was seeing. There was a lot of gold organic movement—it confused me. Quickly, however, the gold above funneled and spun downward and I began to make sense of the reaching forms and solid base—it was a giant tree.
From our place at the top of the steps the tree was still quite a ways away. It sat toward the center of the large circle, between us acres of perfectly kempt green lawn. People lounged and picnicked and I began to get a feel for this place, and why a community man like my father would like it so much.
A cobblestone path cut through the lawn between us and the tree. We walked on down it, people looking up and smiling at us as we passed, many tipping their heads at Eliza. As we drew closer to the tree I saw that there were two more paths running away from it at a ninety degree angle to our own. I assumed four paths lead to the center, each like the arms of a compass—North, East, South and West.
Despite all this, it was the trunk of the tree that captured most of my attention, gently twisting upward into the sky like a well-spun basket. It was large like the empire state building, but perhaps not quite that tall. The branches themselves should have cast us into shadow, but the tree seemed to let out its own kind of light. This light felt even warmer than the sunlight itself.
We approached the trunk where the large, fat roots dove proudly into the ground. Grass grew freely around its base, unkempt unlike the rest of the large lawn. Out of the wild grass the occasional wildflower grew childishly large in shape, adding color. As we neared the base, a natural arch appeared, formed by the reaching arms of the roots, lifting at the base of the tree like hands.
“Are we going under that?” I whispered to Eliza. I wasn’t sure why I’d whispered, perhaps it was the ethereal feeling of this place.
Eliza laughed a little. “Of course. You don’t have to be afraid.”
What else should I be if not afraid? I wasn’t prepared to be reborn, therefore I wasn’t prepared to get this close to the source of it. What if entering this place meant I had to, or what if it made me forget everything of my previous life?
“You won’t forget, and it doesn’t work like that. We’re not here to trick you.”
“We?”
Again, Eliza didn’t answer me, but I was beginning to get the feeling that her job had something to do with this place.
Once under the tree, the inside was much larger than I anticipated. I hadn’t expected that the ceiling reached so far above—to what I suspected the top of the tree—but from where I stood it felt like there was no end. Glittering light poured down from this imaginary ceiling above us. The air twisted and danced as though alive, whirling ever so gently into space.
“Is that . . .” I pointed up.
Eliza stood beside me, looking where I was. “Yes. That is the way back. That is another life waiting for you.”
I looked down at her, gulping dramatically.
She went on, “It is thought that we all see something different. For me, what I see still scares me, but for some I believe they see a more inviting light. Those are the ones that are ready to move on, even if they don’t think so when they come here.”
I looked back at the light with trepidation. To me, it felt inviting.
I knew Eliza heard my every thought on the subject. I was thankful she kept her thoughts to herself.
I forced myself to look away, not wanting to admit that somewhere deep inside I did feel ready. A part of me was beginning to think that forgetting it all and starting over was the only answer—the freeing answer. Everything about
my life thus far weighed on me. Could I ever forget and heal? Would I ever be able to love Max the way I wanted to?
Just the thought of Max stopped me. I thought of his face and his sweet touch. I thought about all he’d done to find me, all the pain he’d felt. Indulging this desire to be reborn meant spitting on his every effort. And what if the next life I went into was full of challenge as Eliza’s had been—as mine had been before? And what if Max did find me, would he love me the same way he does now? His long life won’t let him forget. I’d be struggling to compete with myself like a jealous girlfriend.
I tried to think about something else. “So, who is this person that everyone comes here to see?”
Eliza tilted her head, eyes glowing blue. “It’s me.” She smiled as though to say ‘surprise!’
For a moment I felt disappointed, but then intrigue and understanding took its place. Of course. She was so knowledgeable, so experienced in this world. “You?”
She nodded.
I guess I had expected more. Eliza was sweet and amazing, but so small and riddled with her own troubles. I had pictured a divine being that was at peace with everything in all the worlds—Eliza was anything but. I tried to keep this thought to myself, but the failing smile on Eliza’s face told me that wasn’t working.
I looked around the rest of the space, trying to focus on something else but there was nothing but the inner walls of the tree staring back at me, golden and gleaming. I was forced to elaborate. “So, that’s what you do.” I tried to sound positive. “You pick up souls by the edge of the river and bring their glimmers here to be reborn?”
I was surprised when she shook her head. “No, most find their way on their own.” She couldn’t hide her continued disappointment with me.
“I’m sorry. I can’t always control my thoughts. You just took me off guard, is all.”
She laughed uneasily. “It’s alright. I see your point. I guess when I think about it I had the same thought once, too—I expected a lot more.”
“So, if you didn’t come to the river to get me and bring me here, why did you come for me at all?” There had to be a reason beyond her fascination with my love life.
She began to cheer up again. “Because there aren’t many Seoul’s left. Not many beings are brought back to life by angels. In recent years it’s been seen as taboo. Most angels simply do as they’re designed—deliver the souls here—but Max, he’d fallen in love.” She touched my arm. “I’ve always had a fondness for the mind of a Seoul. They are so incredibly reflective. I don’t think there’s a thing about your life you haven’t considered and relived over and over again in your minds. Seoul’s have lived life to the fullest—no regrets. You see, those regrets you think you have aren’t your regrets. Those regrets are other’s regrets that you’ve chosen to carry as your own in order to help, but it hurts instead. If those you love can’t face the mistakes they’ve made, life here in the Ever After will only be as confusing as it is for me. You have to let them deal with their own problems, like your sister.”
I reflected on what she was telling me. I felt a great deal of regret, but perhaps she was right. Every moment I regretted was really someone else’s moment to regret. I regretted that I hadn’t been able to protect Emily, but it was her life’s challenge to face adversity as she had. Even Max, the regret I felt stemmed from the emotions we shared in our time together—regret that he couldn’t better understand his brother or his father, regret that he couldn’t save me. I’d lived my life the best way I knew how. Every move I’d made had been well calculated and considered.
But, there was regret about my death. I regret ever making friends with Navia, or Avery. So, why didn’t that haunt me? Having fallen for Avery’s trap was my fault, or was it? Could it truly be that it was Max’s fault for having taken her light in the first place? Having destroyed everything Avery had that made her happy? Was I really just a victim in this?
“These are things I advise you find the answers too before you’re reborn. See, I’m not trying to push you to that conclusion. I’m not telling you that you shouldn’t wait to see what Max can do. Resolving all your questions before being reborn ensures you won’t have to live the same mistakes again. If you don’t learn from life’s challenges, then you are destined to repeat them until you do. You have time here to accomplish true serenity, then you can decide what path you want to take—waiting, or moving on.”
I bit my lip. “Is that the real reason you haven’t been reborn yourself? Do you still have questions yet to be answered?”
Eliza’s gaze dropped from mine, her hands twisting before her. She suddenly seemed so insecure. “I have many personal battles I’ve yet to face, as I’ve touched on already. But, there are many more than I fear eternity will not allow to heal. Taking this role . . .” she motioned around the space. “ . . . has been the best thing for me. Helping others slowly helps me help myself.”
“And you’re the oldest?” I pressed.
She nodded. “It is the job of the oldest to usher souls back to the Earthly world as I am now. I will embrace this role for some time, I fear. I have seen many souls live lifetimes as I stay here in this one. I’m sure that if you don’t choose to wait for Max, then this will not be the last time you see me, either. You have many lives you can still live, and many re-births, should you want them.”
“You’ve seen me before?” I bowed my head, wanting to be closer to her in height.
“In some form I am certain, but only now do you have that Seoul trait I admire enough to remember. That is a mark that will live with you forever.” She smiled. “I will never forget your soul now. You’ve already taught me so much about my own life, just by watching you across the river and having you here now. I can feel that I’ve grown closer to understanding in a way I haven’t been able to in a long time.”
I felt like blushing. I was far too inexperienced in life to have anything to teach someone who’s reflected on time for centuries as she has.
“Some people arrive at the answers they seek sooner than others. It’s just a matter of how you allow life into your soul. I’ve found that being open is the key. It’s just a key I haven’t been able to use yet.” Eliza looked up into her next life.
In the reflection of her eyes, I saw something far darker than my perception of the next life had been. Where mine was gold and beautiful, hers seemed dangerous and frightening. I felt a cold chill trickle down my spine, the kind of chill I’d felt as death had ripped me from the Earthly world. I shuddered in secret. No part of me wanted to live the kind of life she had.
MAX:
Making my way out of the compound of the Eastern priory, the gates closed coldly behind me. For a moment I had been allowed to be in a world where the rest of it didn’t matter. Soleil and Lune were so well protected there. I was surprised they knew anything of the world I lived in at all, but then again they were always watching over us, weren’t they?
I stood on the mountain, looking out across the rugged land before me. My task now was to find Avery, but how? Where could she be hiding? The lead on Greg was probably useless to me now. He never stayed in one place for too long; he was smarter than that. His hint to his whereabouts was too obvious as though he’d sent me that feeling on purpose. Did he want me to find him, or was it a trap? Had he seen the brutality of Avery’s reach? Could it be that he realized he’d made a mistake after all this time? It was wishful thinking. He had no reason to change his mind—he never had. My hopes for him were useless hopes, much in the way Jane used to hope for Emily.
I stepped to the edge of the cliff and looked over. The mountainside was vast, a hard trek for anyone else, but not me. I let my wings grow and spread as I stepped off the ledge. Shutting my eyes, I felt my whole body drop a few hundred feet before I opened my wings, allowing them to swallow the air and stop my decent. I soared out from the cliff as hard wind beat against my face. Without better direction, I went to where Greg had been.
. . .
I lowered t
hrough the clouds, entering under a threatening sky. It was raining, the clouds lit here and there with angry sparks of lightning. Here, Soleil could not see the Earth she loved, blocked by the rage of another Element pixie—the Storm pixie. Below me, jagged rocks reached up like knives from the ground, each grey and lifeless, the size of small mountains in and of themselves. I flew over them, trying to find exactly where it was I wanted to go.
The air itself felt thicker, like how death felt wrapping its arms around you. But, this was not the death many of us thought of, it was the death that stole life from Earth, only to bring it to Hell. My whole body shuddered with the feeling, the same feeling Greg had showed me. I was in the right place.
Scanning the landscape, I looked for the small outcropping of rocks I had seen in Greg’s mind. It took a few passes before I was able to spot it at last, looking different than it had in my fading memory, but still enough the same. The rocks here were crumbled together in the shadow of the mountain just below. Minding the weather, I carefully spiraled downward as rain beaded off my wings and down my back. Reaching the mountain floor, I let my feet slowly take my weight as I touched down, wrapping my wings behind me and quickly pulling on the leather coat I’d been holding in my hands. The ground gave as I took a step, soaked in a rain I was sure hadn’t stopped for days, if not weeks.
Under my coat, my soaked shirt clung uncomfortably to my body. I adjusted the coat a few times to remedy this—I didn’t feel I was in any great hurry. The outcropping of rocks did not appear to be any different than any other outcropping of rocks, making it a smart place to hide. Though I felt relaxed in this situation, I reminded myself to stay on guard. The last thing I needed was my instincts to fail me. As much as I wanted to give Greg the benefit of the doubt, as I always did, there was still the chance that he was trying to trick me, as he always was.