The Afterlife: Uriel: Talking to Mikhael
Being an angel wasn’t easy. Uriel would never look down on the others for finding themselves in a position where they felt incapable of doing the job they’d been born, or created, none of them were quite sure which is was, because they’d never been given a choice. They’d never been trained either, so it had been a case of picking things up as they went, and that made things even harder. Even after millennia watching over the afterlife he still made mistakes, but then it was possible he was just making the same mistake continuously. They always said he’d had to strong a connection to the spirit guides he was supposed to just be watching over.
When Uriel stopped to think about it he knew they were right, but that wasn’t going to change him. He was happy with the choices he made, even if they weren’t the right choices, and that was more important to him than doing the right thing. Other angels had become depressed because they chose to do the right thing. The last thing he wanted was to become like them, when they needed him to be the one who kept going no matter what. Like all the other angels he’d said hundreds of goodbyes. Fortunately he always had other friends there to help him with the goodbyes, feeling just as upset as he was, even though those other friends were also spirits.
There were times when Uriel thought it was time all the other angels let go of what they thought their creator/father wanted them to do. None of them knew what they were supposed to be doing. It wasn’t as though they’d been given an instruction manual that told them when they were supposed to be doing and he’d learnt most of his lessons from the older deities. Maybe that was part of his problem. They connected with the worlds in a way that some thought the angels weren’t supposed to. Sighing, he tapped his fingers on the desk in front of him. Once again he was supposed to be concentrating, but couldn’t.
It was watching Gabriel and Samael that was bothering Uriel the most. Gabe had always been lost, scared of connecting with someone who would only be a part of his life for a fleeting moment, but he hadn’t connected with his fellow angels either, always feeling as though his fear made him less than them. What he couldn’t know was that all the angels had been scared at one point, until they managed to push past it and let themselves by who they thought they should be. Uriel had been terrified right up to the moment he forced himself to go into the spirit guides’ office to talk to them about what he could do to help them.
Sam was a different matter. As the angel of Death he’d been Death’s guide. Sometimes he even helped the other psychopomps, although they mostly worked with deities. Then he’d said goodbye one too many times and snapped. Uriel had been watching Sam, waiting for him to realise that the Deaths needed him, but it was beginning to seem like he was going to need a push in the right direction. Sighing again, Uriel told himself to open the folder that was in front of him and deal with that before he started working on the other angels.
Uriel surprised himself when he actually opened the folder. Normally, no matter how stern he was with himself, he didn’t do what he told himself to. He kept getting informed that talking to himself was the first sign of madness, followed by the spirit guides all laughing at him when he gave them what they called ‘the look’. It had taken them all some time to get used to teasing him, but he was glad they had. They’d become his friends, and he was the angel they turned to if they needed an angelic opinion on something, which was why he had the folder for their newest possible member sitting in front of him.
Becoming a spirit guide wasn’t easy and it was a stage of development the majority of spirits would never get a chance to have. Caitlyn must be special. She hadn’t yet entered the afterlife, she wouldn’t for nearly fifty years, but the guides wanted his opinion because she was the first possible for over a century. It happened that way sometimes. Other times there would be a glut of possible, most of whom failed to make the right decision at some point in their lifetime. They all hoped that Caitlyn wouldn’t, because it was her third chance, and if she failed on her third chance she would never be able to become a spirit guide.
Normally Uriel wouldn’t get involved too much, knowing that the guides’ decisions needed to be their own decisions, but with Caitlyn he couldn’t stop himself from going through her timeline to check where she might make mistakes. In the mirror he flicked through, watching her marry a much younger spirit she had offered to help when they created her life, have her daughters, who had once been her sisters and brothers, and smiled because she seemed to have grown up a lot since her last life. He couldn’t see all the possibilities, but the ones he could see were good. Picking up a pen and paper he started writing.
‘It looks good, Elizabeth. She’s grown up and I don’t think she’s going to make any mistakes that will lead to her not having a chance to be a spirit guide. That doesn’t mean she’s going to have a perfect life.’ Uriel watched as Caitlyn struggled with post natal depression after the birth of her third daughter, which was something they didn’t even have a name for during her early years. ‘The choices she’s made for this life seem to be the right one, but I don’t want you to get over excited. We both know that what I see isn’t always the way things go, so give it some time before you tell anyone else she might become a guide when she returns to the afterlife again, because then I can let you know if anything big changes.’
After putting the note into the folder Uriel sent it down to the office. It was a relief that something good was happening, because when he looked around the living area that all the angels shared he was beginning to feel a failure. He wanted his fellow angels to love the life they’d been given, but too many of them were simply going through the motions. Even the late night conversations about the memories they had of the day they’d all woken up had come to an end, as though they’d all given up thinking there was a reason they’d been created. Biting hard on his lip he tried to think of some way he could change things.
“It was never going to be easy,” a voice said from behind him, making him jump, until he realised it was just Mikhael. Out of all the angels he was the only one who seemed to enjoy their job as much as Uriel did. “We don’t know why we created, how long we’re going to live, or even what we were supposed to do with our lives. There are stories written about us that say we were made by God, that we’re His messengers and helpers, when none of us have even met Him, although we have all met Lucifer.”
Uriel nodded. “Sometimes I think reading Earth’s writings doesn’t help us at all, but maybe there is an all mighty creator being who made us and the first gods. There’s no way for us to disprove the idea or prove it.” He sighed. “The gods think we’re here to do the same job they do, only work more with the dead than the living.”
“They might be right.” Mikhael sat on the bed that Uriel had placed in his chosen room, but it was more used as a seat that as a bed, so he was thinking of changing it into a futon. “It’s also possible they’re wrong that we’re meant to work more with the dead than the living. I’ve always connected more with the living than with the dead, which may well be part of the problem we’re having now. Without me there probably wouldn’t even be stories about us told on Earth.”
“You aren’t the only one who connects with the living. Even the gods have trouble getting their stories written down, because it’s so easy for meanings to get lost when you’re trying to have a conversation with someone who’s meditating, or sleeping.” Uriel smiled. “We get lucky when there’s someone who can connect with us when they’re awake and write the stories we want them to, because they don’t get it all mixed up with other dreams that they were having.”
“Even if the stories are written down right they often get mistranslated if they’re going from one language to another and then it’s the mistranslation that becomes our story, rather than the story we originally passed down.” Mikhael sighed. “Sometimes I wonder why we bother.”
“They need us, Mikhael. Maybe we aren’t who they believe we are, but we’re needed just as much as the gods.”
“How do we get the others to realise that?”
Shrugging, Uriel glanced at the mirror, which was still showing Caitlyn’s life. “I think Sam’s beginning to realise he can’t let his hatred of saying goodbye to the spirits that become Death get the better of him. He needs them as much as they need him, so I’m glad of that, because then at least he’ll stop bloody moping all the time. Gabriel’s the one I’m more worried about.”
“Gabe just needs someone to convince him that fear isn’t a reason not to try.” Mikhael ran a hand through his hair. “He’s just not that easy to talk to and I know because I have tried.”
“I think we all have at some point. Even Kushiel tried and she didn’t get anywhere either.”
“Maybe we need to have a gathering or something. Spend some time together, just the angels, and talk our worries through.”
“How long has it been since we celebrated Christmas or any winter festival?”
Caitlyn was bustling around the kitchen, as the mirror was showing what she was doing on Earth at the same time Uriel was having his conversation with Mikhael, so he knew that it was nearly Christmas on Earth. Uriel glanced over at his fellow angel, who was smiling. “That’s a brilliant idea, Uriel.”
“Thank you.”
“If I make a start on gathering together everything we’re going to need for Christmas dinner can you talk to all the angels and let them know what we have planned?”
“Of course.” Uriel smiled at Mikhael. “Let me know if you need any help with anything else.”
“I will, brother.” Mikhael squeezed Uriel’s shoulder. “This is going to be good for all of us, I know it.”
Uriel watched Mikhael walk into the living area and hoped that his optimism would be repaid with the gathering working the way he wanted it to. The problem was, Uriel thought as he turned back to the mirror and watched as Caitlyn made another batch of biscuit dough, that the angels seemed to have had enough of living. When the gods wanted to move on there was the River of Lethe but there was nothing like that for the angels. Instead they just had to keep going, even when all they wanted to do was become someone else, and even Uriel felt that way sometimes. He would have given anything for a glass of water from the Lethe when one of the spirits he’d become too close to left to start his new life, but because he couldn’t have one he’d had no choice. Keeping going was one of the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
Mirrored from K. A. Webb Writing.