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Chapter 24 Weight of a Soul

  Seated on a nearby beach, he quietly watched the sunrise. Warm rays washed over him as he breathed in the freshness of the new day. Snow?white feathers fluttered gently in the morning breeze. Such peaceful dawns were rare in his mortal life; he was accustomed to the dog's wet nose in his face and children's chaos, something he had never imagined he would miss so deeply.

  Their faces used to come to him every night in his dreams, but without sleep the memories had begun to blur at the edges. He did what he could not to let them fade. They were still down there, still needing to be saved. Now he turned his attention to training a new lieutenant.

  A gentle chime from his Lumion signaled it was time. Rising, he made his way to the barracks, where his three colleagues were already waiting. He joined them at the table, grabbed his breakfast, and slid onto a wooden chair that gave a soft creak, and he began to eat. After a moment of silence, he spoke: “We need to put together a training plan for you, Luviel.”

  “Luviel, huh?” Elion said cheerfully. “Nice name.”

  “Really very nice,” Lorian added.

  “Ee have two months until the squads return to duty,” Rendil continued.

  “Weeell, I wanted to have fewer people, not zero,” Elion remarked with a smile.

  Lorian ran a hand through his short brown hair. “She can start with me: we’ll go over forms and weapon techniques. Elion can take over Light attacks.”

  “And what about me?” Rendil asked in surprise.

  Luviel nudged him. “You’ll finally have time for yourself. But I’ll still need help with this,” she said, pulling a snow?white dagger from her Lumion.

  Rendil exhaled quietly. “I know a captain who’s an expert with that kind of weapon. She’ll definitely advise you on how to use it. Now that we don’t have squads, we also have a break from reconnaissance and escort missions.” He was secretly pleased that he’d finally have time for his own training; he wanted to learn new Light attacks and improve them.

  “It’s settled, then. Training starts today, Luviel,” he concluded.

  One by one, they rose and went their separate ways.

  The barracks gradually filled up again. They celebrated Luviel’s promotion together, and the squads were reassigned. Elion was excited to be back to forty people.

  Life settled back into routine. Years passed like water under a bridge. Guarding the walls. Skirmishes with the demons. Transporting Light. Talking at the barracks. Rendil was a full-fledged captain, honored by his unit. Luviel mastered her lieutenant techniques, becoming more deadly with her dagger.

  For some reason, Synaa was much less brutal with her, something Rendil found quite unfair. Some evenings shifted from training to socializing; Rendil got to know the angels much better, their stories blending into his own. His children's faces grew even hazier with each passing year, a slow erosion he couldn't stop.

  More than seventeen years had passed since their encounter with Leviathan before a familiar face finally walked through the barracks door.

  His name echoed through the high ceiling: “Welcome back, Radion!”

  Everyone raised their glasses to welcome the returning captain. Radion called out, joked easily, and relished being back. When he came to the table where Rendil and the three lieutenants sat, he stopped short and blinked, as if to be sure he’d seen it right.

  “Wait, Mona, you’re a lieutenant?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice full of amused astonishment.

  “She’s Luviel now,” Lorian corrected him.

  Radion turned to Rendil, looked him up and down, and when he noticed his new insignia, a smile lit up his face. “So, Rendil, I’m gone for a little while and suddenly you’re a captain? Seems I leave for a bit and everything turns upside down.”

  He glanced around the room, then asked: “So how are you all divided now? Who has which squad, and what’s changed here in the meantime? And who’s in command now? Since both Vesaria and I were...”

  Elion quickly interrupted: “Vesaria is fine. Come, sit down,” he said, making room for him. “We’ll tell you everything.”

  “How? What did I miss?” He asked while taking his seat.

  Radion listened in disbelief as they told him what happened that night, how Rendil became captain, and how the archangels defeated Leviathan.

  “So in the end, I was the only one of us who fell?” Radion asked.

  “Me too,” Lorian raised his hand. “But for a demon lord, it was worth it,” he added reassuringly.

  “Incredible,” Radion said, shaking his head. He was genuinely happy, though a brief shadow crossed his smile at being the only captain who had fallen. “And you, Luviel? How and when?”

  They told him the story with the fiends, how they finally defeated them, Rendil’s difficult choice, and how Cassian and Vesaria overcame the legions.

  “I missed a lot,” Radion concluded, sipping his wine contentedly, the red lingering on his thin strip of dark mustache.

  Just then, the barracks door opened and a tall figure entered.

  “You’re not even going to come welcome me?” the commander scolded, her lips curved in a wide smile.

  “I didn’t know you were alive. Honestly, I’m just amazed,” He stood, and they greeted one another by clasping right hands and gripping each other’s shoulders. Vesaria sat down with them, and they continued to fill Radion in on everything that had happened over the past seventeen years. They told him about their missions and minor skirmishes with demons. Both Luviel and Rendil were now full officers.

  They talked late into the night, until everyone turned in, except the captains, who went to the meeting room to celebrate with Cassian and the other angels. The chamber was built from massive sandstone blocks; a metal chandelier hung over the table, its candle replicas burning with steady Light, smokeless and unflickering.

  The clean radiance pooled across a large woven map of their world on the far wall, threads catching like thin rivers of silver. The circle tightened around Radion, and before they sat, someone raised one more welcoming toast in his honor. They covered the basics for a while, but soon the real question surfaced: who would take command of their squads now, when there should be only one captain? Rendil spoke up firmly in the debate.

  “These are Radion’s squads, and I have other plans. I’d like to request a transfer. Since I’ve been part of this world, I’ve had very few opportunities to spend time in the library. I still have a lot to study, and a pass to the Silver City for at least a year would be a huge help.”

  Vesaria looked at him.

  “There are several units missing captains who are on the Trees. For something like that, you need the archangel’s permission. I’ll contact Ariel and let you know what she decides.”

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  Rendil thanked her. The captains talked for a bit longer, but after a while he got up and went outside to train. As he was leaving, Radion stopped him:

  “Come have a drink with me,” he suggested.

  In Radion’s residence, which hadn’t changed at all over the years, they sat across from each other. Radion settled in and put his feet up. He ran his fingertips along the chair’s arm: spotless, not a speck; in the world of Light, dust doesn’t settle.

  “You know, I wanted to tell you I’m truly grateful for what you and Elion did. Saving the commander is no small feat. I also thank you for taking on all the responsibility and looking after everyone.”

  “Except for that one time when everyone in the unit died but me and the lieutenants; no thanks needed,” Rendil joked.

  Radion smiled and glanced at the light branch. “Two reds please.” On the table, petals dropped and two full glasses appeared. “There’s one more thing I wanted to discuss. I’ve been an angel here for many years, long enough to step down and transfer to another unit, meet new people. I know what this unit means to you.” He set one cup of red down in front of himself and pushed the other across the wooden table to Rendil.

  He grabbed the glass and looked into it. “Thank you, I really appreciate it, and yes, I’d like that. However, for now my priority is the library; in several encounters I’ve already drawn on what I learned there, and that’s what I have to focus on first. We can revisit the transfer after I return. Metatron has taught me a great deal.”

  “Metatron?” Radion asked, surprised.

  Rendil confirmed with a look. “Yes, he spent time with me every day, showing and explaining the basics of knowledge that might come in handy.”

  “He showed you personally?” He leaned closer.

  Rendil nodded, taking a sip.

  He scratched his dark beard. “That’s really unusual. You know, besides advice on what to read and where to find things, Metatron hardly talks to anyone. It’s been that way for ages; you must have really caught his attention.” He drank from his glass and continued. “He barely speaks with high angels, and you were just a lieutenant then. Are you sure you didn’t mistake him for someone else?” His words hung in the air.

  Spinning the liquid in his glass, Rendil said, “I’m sure it was him. It’s hard to mistake those starry eyes for anyone else.” He didn’t know what else to say. It hadn’t occurred to him that his conversations with Metatron were so rare. Now he had even more reason to go and uncover as many secrets as possible.

  Radion’s gaze held quiet admiration. “You really are full of surprises. To have accomplished so much in such a short time. They call you the prodigy captain here.”

  “I always say I had great teachers,” Rendil said, pointing his glass toward him.

  “It’s strange to see so many good people here. Just a few mistakes in life, and your afterlife can be turned upside down,” Radion said, putting his legs down from the wooden table.

  “Or being born in the wrong part of the world,” Rendil continued.

  “Why do you think that?” Radion asked, curious.

  “Well, in the High Heavens it’s mostly Christians, right?” Rendil ventured.

  Radion looked at him, surprised.

  “Your lieutenant was a Viking and has borne a halo for a long time, just like me; we could have been on the other side ages long ago. And no, it wasn’t denied to us because we aren’t Christians, believe me. After more than a thousand years, I can tell you what I’ve learned here.

  Rendil waited, not wanting to interrupt. He needed this answer more than he knew.

  “Deep down, we all know what’s right and what isn’t. The choices we make in life ultimately determine where we end up after death; whether we reach higher spheres or remain on the lower levels of existence. Every deed and choice shapes the path we’ll walk in the next world.” He finished his glass and set it down.

  “You could be a lifelong Christian, but if you do evil in God’s name, you’ll never be in the Heavenly Kingdom. It’s not about whose name you act in; it’s about your actions. Do you think killing in God’s name will bring you salvation?” Radion asked, studying him with a slight, puzzled crease between his brows.

  Rendil met his gaze but said nothing.

  Radion shook his head and answered his own question. “No. Nor will anyone blame you for not converting to another faith when the ‘right’ one was in front of you. On Earth, it’s hard to turn away from what generations before you have done.” He smoothed his neat mustache with his fingers.

  “It’s not easy to leave your parents’ faith. But if your faith condones killing, your inner compass will wake up, and everyone feels something’s wrong. Every faith has elements that were added over time by the wrong people.”

  Rendil smiled. “So what’s the secret? Live in poverty and give yourself away your whole life? Never kill anyone?”

  “Live a full and honest life. Do good because you want to, from the heart, not because you’ll get something for it on the other side. Why do you think there are so few lieutenants here?” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Many people can’t really figure this out. The deeds they do here, and the way they behave, come not from belief but from knowledge; they know. That makes it harder to do good selflessly, not out of duty.”

  That’s how I tried to live my earthly life.

  Look at those around you; people here are from all over the world, from all kinds of religions; most of them were warriors. Many probably killed people in life and aren’t damned.” Radion fell silent for a few seconds, giving Rendil time to absorb his words.

  That’s true. Most people in the squads are fighters from different eras. Only a few of us stand out, which always felt strange to me.

  “Even here, it’s not seen in just two colors. Did you have to do it, or they would have killed your loved ones, or you? Did you do it in self-defense, by accident? Did you enjoy it? There are many factors considered here, and everything counts; circumstances, intent, consequences. It’s never just black or white. It matters whether you acted out of necessity, fear, or hatred. Whether you tried to protect the innocent, or acted out of selfishness. Even remorse and the ability to admit your mistakes matter.”

  “So the reasoning behind your actions is what matters,” Rendil said.

  Radion nodded. “Every deed is part of the whole that makes up your soul. A sincere effort to understand and take responsibility for your actions is what sets us apart and moves us forward.” He finished and took a slow sip of his red wine.

  Rendil couldn’t believe it; after all these years, it had never fully sunk in. It made sense. Even at the judgment, no one ever asked how many times he’d prayed.

  “So going to religious buildings and bowing down is really pointless?” he asked.

  Radion shook his head again. “No. Having a connection to the spiritual and supporting faith on Earth is certainly not bad or useless. For many people, it brings hope and a sense of connection.

  You have your whole life to find your path. In the end, the message is always the same; do what’s right without compromise; do what fulfills you; don’t harm others; and be honest and strong! Deep down, you always know what’s right.”

  “Strong?” Rendil asked, puzzled.

  “Yes, being strong is one of the most important things. I don’t just mean physical strength. Being strong means standing firm in hard times, being a support for others, and not always choosing the easiest path when faced with a difficult choice.” He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, his hand pointing toward him. “You’ve lived a long life; you know the world isn’t just good or bad, and making the right decision is sometimes really hard, almost impossible. Admitting you don’t understand something and seeking wisdom; that’s strength too.

  Radion grabbed the empty glass, his gaze steady on Rendil. “When someone tells you to do something that’s against your inner compass, maybe even to kill someone because it’s convenient for them, or else they’ll condemn you and their group will see you as a bad person, even if you insult their faith, you have to know how to tell good from evil, be the one who thinks and always tries to act honorably, because deep in your soul you know what’s right. That’s what it means to be strong.” He held out the glass in the direction of the Light branch. Petal dropped inside and filled it again.

  Rendil leaned forward over the table. “And what about lying?” he pressed.

  “Again, it depends on the circumstances and intent. Did you lie to protect someone? Or just to make things easier for yourself? Was the truth harder? Did you lack courage? That’s something to think about too.” He swirled his wine, took a sip and continued.

  “These decisions really are complicated, and sometimes you have no choice but to pick the lesser evil. What’s important is knowing why you decided the way you did. Was it the only way? Or did you choose the easier path, knowing it would catch up with you later?” He tilted his head. “Those are questions you have to answer honestly.” Radion smiled at him. His words left Rendil speechless, but deep in his heart, he knew he was right.

  He left Radion's quarters deep in thought, needing to clear his head, so he flew through the night. In the morning, he joined his unit in the barracks but was quiet and thoughtful the whole time. During the day, he checked on the squads and their training. In the afternoon, he slipped away to his own pursuits. After a few days, Vesaria called him to her quarters.

  “Good news,” she said. “You have a five?year pass to the Silver City.”

  Rendil grinned from ear to ear. “That’s a lot more that I asked. That’s great! When can I leave?”

  “Today,” the commander replied.

  “Thank you.” He stepped up to her and offered his hand. “Learn what you need; we’ll be here when you return.”

  He bowed and went to inform the unit and his friends that they wouldn’t see him for the next five years.

  Everyone said goodbye as if he were leaving forever.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be back!” He moved through the crowd, clasping hands, gripping shoulders. Elion pulled him into a brief, bone-crushing hug. Luviel's eyes shone. At the edge of the battlements he turned for the last time. “Elion, Lorian, Luviel, take care of them while I’m gone. I trust I’ll come back wiser,” he said with a laugh.

  He didn’t want to drag it out; he spread his wings, lifted his hand in a final salute to Radion and Vesaria as they saw him off from the tower, and rose into the same light he’d watched at dawn. He was looking forward to seeing his friend Metatron again.

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