Endless

by S. B. Niccum

“Great job!” Drymus says conversationally.

  “Thanks,” I look around for a way out, and I realize that I flew here on Dayspring’s back. There is no way I’ll ever find my way back to my planet’s spirit realm all on my own. I don’t think I ever quite figured out how to get to the airport without a GPS back on Earth, so interplanetary travel is definitely out of the question.

  “Stranded?” he asks, amusedly, obviously reading my thoughts.

  “Yeah, I guess with all the excitement, Dayspring forgot to find me a ride back.”

  He laughs heartily. “I guess even the mighty Dayspring makes mistakes now and then,” he jokes. “I’ll give you a ride, don’t worry.”

  “Um, thanks.”

  He laughs again, then without any further warning, he whisks me up like a rag doll and places me between his wings. His hugeness hits me anew and I quickly wrap my arms around his massive neck for safety.

  Unlike Dayspring he flies upright. He only slants forward slightly so I don’t slide off. “Hold on!” He flaps his huge wings a few times to gain height, and laughs thunderously at my trepidation. “You humans are always so fond of your earth. Come by it honestly I guess, since you were formed from the element.”

  “What do you mean? What element where you formed from?”

  “Wind,” he states with a tinge of pride.

  “And Dayspring?” I ask.

  “Fire,” he laughs as if it were obvious.

  “Is there a water?”

  “Sure. They are brand new in fact, their first world just now got inhabited by the first beings.”

  “Really? What do they look like? Mermaids?”

  “Not really, not like the mythical creatures from your planet. They are humanoids, like us, but they’re aquatic. They have legs and webbed feet and hands, by-dorsal fins on their backs—much like my wings here—but they are small, like my hand.” His hand was about a foot long, so not that tiny, but small enough. “They are also incredibly colorful, shimmery shades of purples, blues, greens, and yellows. They are truly remarkable.”

  “Can I see them?”

  “You can’t interfere with other planets. Not unless you are assigned to them.”

  “Have you interfered?”

  “I haven’t been assigned to their planet, no. But I did train some of the pre-mortal spirits, just like I trained you.”

  “I’d like to do that some day,” I muse.

  “You might just get to—some day.” He smirks, and snorts a chuckle.

  The speed at which Drymus is traveling is dizzying; I try to picture the water creatures as a diversion, but all I can think of is to hold onto him a little tighter. I wonder what would happen to me if I fell off his back and into empty space? Would I float aimlessly for ever?

  “So who’s faster, me or Day?”

  “Huh?”

  “Who’s faster? You know, at flying?”

  Constellations are zooming by me so fast that even without the threat of actually throwing up, I feel queasy.

  “You are,” I say dryly.

  He catches my drift and slows down. My surroundings start to look less like streaks and more like actual things. I find myself enjoying this pace much better and I tell him this.

  “Sorry,” he apologizes. “My competitive nature always gets the best of me. I’ve been told once or twice to, um, how do you say it on Earth? Oh yeah, chill out.”

  “So even though you’re a resurrected being, you are still not perfect,” I point out.

  “Obviously,” he states. “We all have an eternity to work on that, and eternity takes, well, forever!”

  We both laugh and I find that I like this big guy.

  “I think I remember you, from before.”

  “Good! I’m glad! Otherwise you’re hitching a ride on an alien from another planet who’s twice your size, and that would be awkward.”

  I laugh again, and as my laughter fades, I feel that empty feeling again—the one that Alex’s accusations left me with.

  “So, are you ready to obey my every command and Open?”

  “The sooner the better.”

  We are quiet for a while and I notice lots of interesting things, things that I know Alex would love to see—colorful cloud formations, debris that floats around a planet’s orbit, fiery suns, and distant galaxies.

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Yes, I am. The High Council says I have to Open before I can go and get Alex, so let’s get on with it.”

  “You’re in luck you know,” Drymus comments after a short silence.

  “How so?” I ask, distracted by how many colors space really has. It’s not black at all; it’s actually filled with myriads of color, like a strange garden of stars.

  “I happen to be an expert at a certain type of Opening.”

  “What type?” I ask, suddenly very interested because his tone of voice sounds mischievous.

  “I’m the only one I know of that dares Open spirits the fast way.”

  “Dares? What do you mean, ‘dares?’”

  “Well, I don’t know why other Spirit Guides don’t try it. It’s perfectly safe. It might not be fun…but it’s safe.”

  “What do you mean by, ‘not fun?’” I ask, suddenly alarmed.

  He doesn’t answer. Instead an impish grin stretches across his face, then he extends his wings all the way out, and we start to glide in a downward descent toward Earth. Instead of entering Earth’s regular physical atmosphere, we enter a different type of layer, the spiritual realm.

  Once I’m safely on spiritual ground, he shakes his wings out slightly and cranks his neck to both sides in a stretch. We are back at the entrance of the huge Parthenon mansion. Spirits are coming and going into the building like it’s the most popular mall around. A few Cherubs too, come and go from this building looking like average college professors, some holding scrolls, others holding tablets, all looking very professional and committed. A few of them acknowledge my companion, Drymus, exchanging a few polite words in their native language.

  “Why so many Cherubs and no Seraphs?”

  He shrugs. “Seraphs are more antisocial that way. They mostly keep to themselves. After you.” He sweeps his arm around with a welcoming gesture toward the steps.

  “Dayspring doesn’t seem antisocial,” I say, rooted to the spot.

  “Dayspring was assigned to be your personal trainer, back in pre-mortal life. She had to.” He pauses then adds with a more subdued tone, “At first, she had to. She quickly found that she really liked you.”

  “So our friendship is not a common occurrence?”

  “No. Not common at all.” He makes the same sweeping motion toward the steps, a little annoyed now, so I start moving.

  “You never answered my question, earlier. What’s not fun about your way of Opening?” I say as I climb a few steps, then realize that I can float all the way up much faster.

  “You should show me a little more respect, and confidence too, you know. You’ve been appointed to do all that I say.”

  “You are my own form of cruel and unusual punishment, aren’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t say cruel…” he admits with sarcasm.

  Unexpectedly, I feel very comfortable around him, like I would around an old friend, yet I do still feel a healthy dose of fear and respect for him. “So, where to Sensei?” I ask, once we’re inside the building. The whole thing is marble white; it looks sterile and cold like a hospital. The middle of the hall is open, and Greek columns line the perimeter, forming four hallways that connect with each other. Doors line the walls, all tall and solid white. Off to one side I can see the double doors that I know lead to the High Councilor’s court—a place I don’t want to go back to unless I have good news to report. Looking up, in the middle of the open hall, I see that there are several stories of the same type of hallways and doors, all perfectly lined up, one after the other. Some doors open, and spirits come out, shake the hands of their Spirit Guides and leave. Some look troubled, others relie
ved.

  “Sensei? What’s Sensei?” Drymus mutters. “Oh Yeah, Asian Earth culture, it means teacher, trainer, or master,” he recites like a memorized fact.

  “Y—yeah…” I bite my lip, and look around.

  “So, what do I call you? Xuéshēng?”

  I stare at him for a moment. “I don’t know what you just said.”

  We stand there, wordlessly staring at each other for a few awkward moments. And the fact that we’re both aliens to each other becomes very obvious.

  Chapter 9

  We fly straight up to the third floor. No need for elevators here, I guess. I follow him past several doors, until Drymus finally stops at one particular door that isn’t marked in any way. He opens it for me, and makes another sweeping motion for me to enter.

  Inside, the room is bare, but for one tall stool for Drymus and what looks like a wide screen TV on the wall. Besides these two things there’s nothing else.

  “What, no couch?”

  “Why would you need a couch?” he asks, perplexed.

  I shake my head. “Never mind. So what now? What is this special way of Opening spirits that you and only you can do?”

  “I didn’t say that only I could do it. I just said that only I dared do it.”

  “Why? What is it?”

  “Why do you want to Open?”

  “I was told I had to by the High Council.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” They want me to jump through their hoops, and because they don’t trust me after what I did, I think, but don’t say out loud. However, the second I think it, my every thought is displayed on the big screen TV, in movie form. All the images that made up that thought played out instantly, leaving me completely exposed. “Are you kidding me?” I say shrilly. “Is that thing going to display all my thoughts? Who else has access to this, besides you?

  “Does it matter?” he responds dispassionately, like a scientist studying a lab rat.

  “Yes, it matters,” I affirm roundly.

  “Don’t forget, that even if the Probe wasn’t here, I still can read thoughts. I knew what your thoughts were.”

  “So why that—that Probe thing?” I point to the infernal device, feeling infringed upon.

  “It’s for your own benefit, really. The Probe will help you see yourself more clearly. It will expose you to…yourself.”

  I hide my face in frustration, and wish I had that couch to lie on. I see now that there is a good reason for it in a shrink’s office, I feel so uncomfortable standing here like a social experiment.

  “If you’d like I can have one brought in,” Drymus says sensibly, trying to sound accommodating.

  “No!” I bark back. “Let’s just get on with it.” I sigh. “What was your last question?”

  “Why did the High Council want you to Open?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but somehow Opening will help me find Alex or make me ready to find him, or something.” I peek over at the screen of the Probe with apprehension, and it remains perfectly blank.

  “It only works when you say one thing and mean another.”

  “Oh.” Probe my—. It should be called the tattler. And on queue the Probe displays my last stream of consciousness complete with all the visual imagery.

  “Okay then,” Drymus says, fighting the urge to smile. “Lets move on.” He adjusts himself on the stool and his wings quiver reflexively, like a dog’s leg when stretched. “Yes, you are right about why the High Council wanted you to Open, but that’s not all. You already know that Open spirits have nothing to hide. They are perfectly transparent, not to be confused with perfect,” he warns. “You saw your own mother Open right before your eyes.”

  “Yes.”

  “You could see that she was not perfect, but you could also see that she had worked through and fixed all the major issues. She’s ready for her final trial. If she remains Open, she could be judged right now and she would inherit the highest reward that Heaven has to offer—Earth itself—glorified and purified.”

  “Same with Dorian and Luz.”

  “Yes, but they didn’t have to work through anything. They were innocents in life, and that gets them an automatic pass in the afterlife.”

  “Good,” I say simply. “They deserve it.”

  “You, however…have a lot to work through.”

  I nod, ashamed.

  “Most spirits take a long time to Open. They have lots of little sessions like this one where they work through their issues. They do it this way because it’s a more natural pace. To do it any faster than that, would be…painful.”

  “Somehow I get the feeling that you’re not going to let me do this at a natural pace.”

  He affirms. “You expressed an interest in doing it quickly, did you not?”

  “Y—yes. I did. I mean, I see no point in delaying it. I figure the longer it takes me to Open, the longer that Alex has to suffer in there, and the longer before I can explain to him what happened.”

  “That’s true,” he says, but I can tell that something else is bothering him now. I look at the screen, but the dang Probe is not showing me his thoughts. “I haven’t said anything I don’t mean,” he reminds me with a know-it-all, singsong sound to his voice.

  I roll my eyes.

  “But even if I do help you Open quickly, it doesn’t guarantee that you’ll be able to get Alex right away. You’ll have to ask permission from the High Council first, then—”

  “Yes, yes, ask for permission, grovel in pain, and play by the rules. I get it. So can you do it? Can you help me Open quickly?”

  “I can, but you understand that it’s not going to be pleasant.”

  “Yes! You’ve made it abundantly clear, I’ll sign the waiver, you won’t get sued,” I say annoyed. “I do have a question though, how is it that you know so much about this way of Opening? And why are you the only one who dares do it?”

  “Because, I’m the only one who has gone through it.”

  “You Opened fast too?” I ask, incredulously.

  “I had to. Like you, I was under a self-imposed deadline. Like you, I felt that the sooner I fixed myself the better for those I loved.”

  I stare at him, intent on his every word.

  “You might find this hard to believe now, but like your Alex, I was stuck in Spirit Prison for a while.”

  I narrow my eyes and peer into his. “You’ve been to Spirit Prison?”

  “Yes, my planet’s of course. Right after my mortal life, I went straight to Hell.” He raises one of his eyebrows and exhales. “In life, I wasn’t necessarily good.” He pauses for a moment, letting that sink in for a second. I never thought that a high-ranking angel like Drymus would ever be anything but good.

  “I wasn’t terribly bad either,” he corrects with an edge to his voice. “I was a warrior, like your Alex. I fought in the same war in which Dayspring fought, but for the other side, the Cherub side. We were enemies then.” He crosses his arms around his broad, bare chest and inhales.

  “But so was Kerubiel, and look at them now!”

  “Yes,” he nods grimly, while letting the air out of his lungs slowly. “But they were not me. They fought out of necessity. I on the other hand…” He lets that sentence die, not wanting the Probe to display how ruthless he really had been during that time. I, however, can discern what he means. Bits and pieces of information float my way—calloused, un-feeling, angry—he had been all those things and perhaps more.

  “Kerubiel and I are childhood friends. We grew up literally next door to each other and we are like brothers. But I was always the angry one, always getting into trouble. I started fights, and Kerubiel ended them. He always had my back though; he never left me to hang. I always got us into so much trouble, but he never complained, or got angry with me.

  “When we grew up, we both joined the military. We were at war with the neighboring planet of the Seraphs. I wanted to kill all the Seraphs; he wanted to bring peace and resolution to the conflict. He moved quickly
up the ranks and got promoted, and I served right under him. One day, we had received intelligence that the camp of the Seraph leaders was nearby, so we made our camp for the night and Kerubiel told us to wait until the morning before we attacked. He believed in fighting honorably, I believed in winning at all costs.

  “Both sides were tired that night. We had all been fighting for days and were operating on little to no sleep. I didn’t agree with his decision to wait. I thought we should attack during the night and get it over with. He pulled rank on me and that made me angry.” Drymus shakes his head, and tightens his lips, to imply the extent of his anger. “Well, let’s just say that I was very angry. I pushed him aside and told him that this war would never end if we went soft on them. He ordered me to my bunker and I obeyed, but I couldn’t sleep. I waited until everyone in my camp was asleep. Then, arming myself with only one weapon, my dagger, I sneaked past the sentry and stealthily infiltrated enemy camp.

  “It didn’t take me very long to find where the leaders of the rebellion were sleeping. I just had to choose which one I would kill first. I chose him, because I thought that she was weak and that I would be able to overtake her easily if something went wrong with her brother.”

  “Wait, who are you talking about?”

  Drymus sticks his hand out, halting my questions. “They were sleeping in the same tent, so I knew that I would have to be quick and precise. I might be able to kill them both, but I knew that chances were that I would get caught and killed myself. So I crawled into their tent and drove my dagger through his heart.”

  “What?” I can’t believe it! Is he talking about—?

  “Yes,” he says, reading my thoughts. “I killed Daystar, Dayspring’s brother.”

  His words stuck to the space between us like a thick wall. He murdered the same person who stood next to him at his best friend’s wedding!

  “It was a long time ago,” he reads my mind again. “Daystar has forgiven me, and so has Dayspring.”

  I can’t speak. Memories of Dayspring telling me about her life flash before me. I start to piece together the bits that I remember and group them with what Drymus is telling me.

  “In a way, I was responsible for Kerubiel and Dayspring’s first meeting,” Drymus continues with a sheepish look. “As always, Kerubiel had to clean up my mess. Dayspring woke up and caught me trying to escape. She pounced on me and we struggled. I had underestimated her,” he says incredulously. “I was promptly captured and imprisoned.”