The Man Beneath

There was once a time when I was largely unaware of time. Not because I did not know of its existence, but because when you’re immortal, time flows differently. The mortals grasp at an escaping mortality. Yet days passed me unnumbered–unrealized.

And then there was a time when time seemed to stand still. When days seemed to stretch longer. Her presence alone seemed to stretch the cosmos in a way nothing else could.

Liora caught my eye in a way I never expected. I remember the day I met her. It seemed like any other day. I had been charged with checking a disturbance in the veil that separated heaven from the mortal realm. Just another day as a keeper of boundaries.

I found the rift and the supernatural creature that had created it. I dealt quickly with the matter and was about to return when I noticed her. She had the same brilliance all angels kept, but she seemed to burn twice as bright. She sat, legs crossed, in the dirt next to a little boy. Her hands worked slowly but steadily, weaving a crown of dandelions and tall grass. The boy watched with awe-filled interest.

I had never understood the purpose of guardian angels. The mortal lives were but a blink compared to eternity. But this one I understood even less. I thought they were meant to watch and protect from afar, and yet this guardian angel sat and interacted with the child. Why would she allow herself to get attached to a creature that was just going to die?

Her head lifted as if she sensed me watching her. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, and as she smiled, I swear I was blinded–the daylight seemed dull beside her smile. The child turned to see what she was looking at, and I instantly vanished before he could spot me.

I should have returned to my duties then. The disturbance had been resolved. The boundary remained intact. Nothing lingered that required my attention. And yet, as I left, I found myself looking back. Not at the guardian angel herself, but at the strange sight of immortality kneeling in the dirt beside something so temporary. I did not understand why the image unsettled me. Only that it followed me long after I departed.

That was when my entire world began to change. I didn’t know it then, but meeting her that day spun events that would lead me down a path I never expected. Love was outside the realm of what I allowed to exist. Duty was all I allowed. I followed each task with exactness. Ironically, I followed the same pattern after I lost her.

For the longest time, I believed those memories were better left unremembered, locked away in my vault of memory. But a new love has opened my eyes, and I know now that the memories I’d stolen from myself were best used to educate the man I wish to be. For her. For Aysha.

She’d shown such resilience since the beginning of her existence as a Reaper. The more the world threw at her, the more she grew, as if filling some mold of what the universe expected her to become. But what was even more amazing was how she didn’t even let the universe define her. She leaned into the transformation and became more than heaven and earth even knew possible.

That’s when I knew I had to stop ignoring pieces of my past. I had spent eternity believing the past was something that could be buried. Aysha taught me that eternity was not measured by how much we could forget, but by what we chose to carry forward. Now, I would learn from it. Grow from it. Reshape my future–a future together with her.

I walked with purpose toward my vault, and the door opened smoothly as if anticipating my command. Rows and rows of orbs filled with centuries of memories passed me as I wound my way to the darkest corner. Centuries ago, I had banished the memories of before my fall. Not all of them, but enough to tear the ache from my heart.

I believed that if they stayed buried, they would not influence my future. But they had done so anyway. The lingering memory had stopped me from feeling. I had become cold and detached–something I thought perfect for the new title assigned to me. I could not allow attachment to the beings walking through the Gates I protected.

The darkness gave way under my incantations and a wave of my hand. Light revealed a locked chest. A key materialized in my hand as I called it forth from the veil. A pile of orbs sat at the bottom of the forgotten chest. I saw her smile on one, and the ache I expected to bloom didn’t come. Interesting.

With gentle fingers, I scooped it up and allowed the memory to unfold before me.

I heard her calling through the veil. Her voice sweet, like fresh honey. But I had work to do—a task to finish—heaven to obey. Her insistence pulled me to a hillside overlooking the setting sun. Its rays could never compete with the radiance of her smile--the same one she greeted me with as I appeared beside her, feet smashing the wildflowers poking out of the grass beneath them.

"Why did you call me here?"

"Oh, Azrael. Heaven can wait. Your duty will still be there in an hour once the sun has set. Sit with me."

I relented and sat next to her, and she laid her head on my shoulder.

"You need to appreciate the little things in life, my love. Like this sunset. Not even the best of humanity's painters could do all the colors justice, and yet they still try. They try to capture the beauty that so quickly fades for them, while we immortals ignore such trivial things. But they're not trivial. They're amazing."

I chuckled. I still didn't quite see through her eyes, but every time she forced me to slow down, I grasped it just a little bit more. "It is beautiful, but I know of a beauty far greater."

"Oh, do you?" she replied with a laugh, looking up at me with those sparkling eyes of hers.

My grin grew. "Yes," I breathed, staring deeply into her eyes before closing the gap to kiss her. As we parted, I continued, "You never cease to amaze me, Liora. Far more than any sunset."

And at that moment, I thought I could live in it forever. Overlooking the sun dipping behind the horizon in a field of wildflowers next to my love.

She blushed, and the radiant smile of hers grew wide. "And to think you didn't want to come," she teased with a laugh.

Comfortable silence blanketed us, and we sat as the sky turned from orange to soothing pinks and purples. Only then did I notice her hands had been working while we sat.

As the last rays peeked past the distant horizon, she lifted a circlet of flowers. She placed it on my head, and I rolled my eyes. "I am not one of your helpless children." I moved my arm to brush it away, but she caught it.

"No, but maybe you should be more like them," she replied, keeping my hands from taking the makeshift crown off my head. "Maybe then you'll let yourself enjoy life a little. Maybe even laugh a little."

"I laugh plenty," I argued through a chuckle, finally wrestling her hands down to her sides. I shook my head, hoping to lose the circlet, but it stubbornly clung to my hair.

Liora burst out laughing, and I followed, the last of the strictness of my duty melting away.

"There he is," she said softly as she noticed my shoulders relax.

The memory faded, and as I came back to myself, I noticed a cold sensation on my cheek. I lifted my hand to my face and wiped the tear away. It was not a tear of sadness for the life I could no longer have with her. It was a tear for the man I had forgotten I once was. I had allowed myself to feel. To be happy. To laugh. Somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself those things were weaknesses. Liora had known better. And Aysha was helping me understand that they were nothing to fear.

I looked back down at the dusty chest. These memories, once thought to be better off forgotten, were now one of the most precious things I possessed.