Chapter Two:Purgatory Part One
Okay so not quite Saturday, but I'm going to a job fair (wish me luck!) and them to the movies in the evening tomorrow so I'm going to post this now. Chapter two will be divied into at least two but possibly three parts just due to size and time.
Welcome to Purgatory read the wooden sign floating above his head, it looked wooden anyway, but considering how it seemed to be suspended of gravity’s reach, it was doubtful.
Jonathan mouthed the words incredulously. Did, was… was that sign welcoming him to Purgatory? He looked hard at the wooden sign with simple letters inscribed upon it. Nothing fancy or awesome about it, in fact the sign seemed to be rather a practicality. Yes you are in Purgatory, and yes you are welcome, how many times had those questions been asked to warrant a sign? In fact like any good Englishmen it was so sensible he was inclined to believe it. Jonathan, unlike most of his hysterical counterparts, accepted his death with a sense of wonder rather than despair. Let it never be said the man was especially astute.
After the sign he was aware he was standing on a platform, an open platform, and all around him whimpering people walked by. Some crying, some anxious, some clearly terrified, and others looked stunned. He realized he recognized them as his fellow passengers, and the train itself was resting on the other side. However he could see no tracks for it to have rolled in on, the engineer himself was visible in the window and only stared forlornly past Jonathan.
Our young man followed his eyes to truly see Purgatory for the first time.
A glimmering city of material akin to clouded glass shone warmly. Verdant plants bloomed vividly in every crevice they could find; their blooms scented the breeze lightly beneath a warm blue sky. Snaking their ways between the buildings was azure colored streams, populated with what looked like automatic gondolas, filled with people of every color and type. The atmosphere exuded peace and security, so why were tears still shed by others? Did grief skew their sight?
“Paradise surely,” Jonathan muttered at the sight.
“Oh no, Paradise is beyond anything your human mind has ever seen, in life or dreams” a voice said next to him. A tall woman stood next to him, red hair curling loosely around her head, her eyes were perfect looking glasses that reflected Purgatory. Her face shone warmly with a clement light. He then realized to his embarrassment she was totally nude, her breasts stood unabashedly exposed to the world. No, she was not nude, not on the bottom, her shame was covered. Then he realized she had no shame at all, what lay between her legs was featureless skin. Skin the color of honey in the sunshine, she was surely the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“You can still feel pain after all,” a sharp pain fired in his arm, and he realized she had just punched him in the arm.
“Ow!” well she was right about that; he looked into her eyes only to see himself reflected in them. “What...what are you?” he stammered.
“I am an angel; your kind would also call me a Virtue.” She answered with a smile; Jonathan felt his heart nearly jump out of his chest.
However her words felt false to him. She was beautiful, even heavenly, but she looked like no angel. “You don’t look like an angel.” He said without thinking and immediately felt bad for what he felt like was insulting her. “I mean, you don’t have any wings and you’re, and you’re a woman.”
She laughed, or rather made a sound that sounded like bells tinkling. “What you mean is I am not a Seraphim, it is them that has the most contact with the Earth. I am no woman either, I was not born of Eve, my body is simply like a female.”
“Oh.” Jonathan acquiesced feeling very stupid and small, like a human often does to an angel. He made another attempt at polite conversation however, “My name is Jonathan Haven, what’s yours?”
“I am called Sabriel, or the Sword of God.”
He paused, “Do you prefer Sabriel or Sword of God?”
“It is one to me.”
“Then, it is nice to meet you Sabriel.”
“It is also nice to meet you Jonathan Haven.”
Jonathan smiled impulsively, “Well at least you angels are nice.”
“Not all of us, we Virtues can afford it Jonathan, remember that” Sabriel said sadly.
Jonathan frowned at the cryptic answer; however he could tell Sabriel didn’t or wouldn’t pursue the subject any further. A thought already in the back of his mind came to the front. After a few minutes gazing at the City of the Dead, he gathered the courage to ask Sabriel, “Sabriel, do you, do you know what happens to people when they die? I mean, where they go?”
Sabriel’s mirror like eyes narrowed, “What do you want to ask me Jonathan?”
He looked at his feet, Sabriel’s very presence made him feel small, almost like a child again. However like a child he would not be denied, “Well on the train I was on, there was this woman and I…I…I love her. I just want to know if she is here too.”
Sabriel looked away from him, she seemed angry, but it didn’t seem directed at him. She said brusquely, “Do not inquire after others after you are dead, you can still feel sorrow here.”
Jonathan felt his blood congeal at the statement, “What do you mean?” he asked.
“That you’ll only end up languishing here in Purgatory longer because you cannot release your grief,” Sabriel walked, no, her feet did not touch the ground, rather she floated forward, beckoning the upset Jonathan to follow her to the riverbank.
“You can only move on to heaven if your soul is clean of all transgressions of your life,” she explained as she turned to face him.
“Then she is not here,” Jonathan realized, that only left one other choice, the word the angel would not say. He deigned to ask anyway thought the thought made him sick, “Is she in hell then?”
The angel did not answer and only stared at him stoically, unafraid to meet his eyes with her strange ones. Though her mouth betrayed her set with sadness creased the corners. However Jonathan did not feel for the angel.
“You answer me with your silence!” he yelled, angry at her for not facing the same reality he must, that Hell existed and someone he loved was there. He felt despair overcome him, and for the first time since he was small child he wept. That Josephine should have to suffer through-out all of eternity was too much for him to pair. It paralyzed him, he felt his legs buckle beneath him and he fell to his knees.
“Its not fair, why should I be here and not her? She was not evil, she was not bad, she was perfect, so perfect, so beautiful so pure! Hell is not the place for her! Only heaven could be worthy!” he cried out as he scratched ugly grazes into the soft ground. “Would I could trade places with her!”
“Do not wish for anything so foolish!” Sabriel snapped, violently interrupting his mournful tirade. Jonathan looked up to see the angel glaring down at him. She seemed larger, greater, her feet dangled in front of his face with her toes curled like her fingers into her fists. “You have no concept of what Hell is or what you’re saying,” she told him.
“I know Heaven would be like Hell without her,” Jonathan still felt defiant enough to argue with Sabriel as awe-inspiring as she was. In fact defying her gave him something to concentrate on other than the hole in his heart.
However Sabriel no longer seemed angry, in fact she drifted down to where she could bend over and other him a hand up. He took it and looked into the angel’s face. He could read nothing in the angel’s eyes that only reflected his own, but she seemed sad, downtrodden even. She turned to look over her shoulder and with a flowing gesture seemed to command a gondola to stop before them. She took him by the hand and lead him into the ornately carved boat. He was not terribly surprised to find it filled with cushions of various sizes.
When they were seated the small barge moved forward with no further prodding. Sabriel seemed to be considering him as they sailed smoothly down the stream. He looked back at her with a defiant look; passion had changed him from his usual amiable self. Sabriel was not being very helpful and he did not like it.
“Jonathan, Purgatory can be a heaven or a hell depending on how you view it,” she finally said after a full minute of silence. “Purgatory is closer to Earth than either, but still close enough to the two for a soul to fall into either quite easily, do you follow me?”
Jonathan nodded.
“Purgatory is a lovely place because you’re not meant to suffer here but instead cleanse yourself, most humans are quite disconcerted by their Death but you have accepted it quickly, that is good. The faster you let go of your life on Earth the faster one can ascend to Heaven. However you can still draw pain onto yourself and only bring yourself farther from Heaven. So far in fact you may fall into Hell, and I don’t want you, or anyone else to go to Hell Jonathan.”
"Then what about the souls that goes to Hell then? Do you just forget about them?!” he angrily interrupted her.
“The souls that go to Hell have chosen Hell before they even died; there is nothing that can be done when a soul chooses to damn itself.” Sabriel answered calmly but with a note of warning in her voice that Jonathan was treading on thin ice.
“I don’t believe that,” he argued.
“A soul that wants to save itself will be saved; some souls choose not to be saved. Forget about her Jonathan, enjoy Purgatory, eat its fruit, drink from its sweet streams, pray and love. Do not allow your thoughts to wander to what cannot be.” Sabriel advised her face set like a stone and her words hitting Jonathan in the stomach like one.
“I cannot, I made a promise to her before we died, that I would protect her, I will fulfilling my vow by relishing Purgatory’s delights whatever they may be! “ Jonathan contended becoming excited enough to sit-up; the boat seemed to take no notice of the sudden action.
“Vows made in life have no bearing in death,” Sabriel countered.
“Yes, yes they do.”
Welcome to Purgatory read the wooden sign floating above his head, it looked wooden anyway, but considering how it seemed to be suspended of gravity’s reach, it was doubtful.
Jonathan mouthed the words incredulously. Did, was… was that sign welcoming him to Purgatory? He looked hard at the wooden sign with simple letters inscribed upon it. Nothing fancy or awesome about it, in fact the sign seemed to be rather a practicality. Yes you are in Purgatory, and yes you are welcome, how many times had those questions been asked to warrant a sign? In fact like any good Englishmen it was so sensible he was inclined to believe it. Jonathan, unlike most of his hysterical counterparts, accepted his death with a sense of wonder rather than despair. Let it never be said the man was especially astute.
After the sign he was aware he was standing on a platform, an open platform, and all around him whimpering people walked by. Some crying, some anxious, some clearly terrified, and others looked stunned. He realized he recognized them as his fellow passengers, and the train itself was resting on the other side. However he could see no tracks for it to have rolled in on, the engineer himself was visible in the window and only stared forlornly past Jonathan.
Our young man followed his eyes to truly see Purgatory for the first time.
A glimmering city of material akin to clouded glass shone warmly. Verdant plants bloomed vividly in every crevice they could find; their blooms scented the breeze lightly beneath a warm blue sky. Snaking their ways between the buildings was azure colored streams, populated with what looked like automatic gondolas, filled with people of every color and type. The atmosphere exuded peace and security, so why were tears still shed by others? Did grief skew their sight?
“Paradise surely,” Jonathan muttered at the sight.
“Oh no, Paradise is beyond anything your human mind has ever seen, in life or dreams” a voice said next to him. A tall woman stood next to him, red hair curling loosely around her head, her eyes were perfect looking glasses that reflected Purgatory. Her face shone warmly with a clement light. He then realized to his embarrassment she was totally nude, her breasts stood unabashedly exposed to the world. No, she was not nude, not on the bottom, her shame was covered. Then he realized she had no shame at all, what lay between her legs was featureless skin. Skin the color of honey in the sunshine, she was surely the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“You can still feel pain after all,” a sharp pain fired in his arm, and he realized she had just punched him in the arm.
“Ow!” well she was right about that; he looked into her eyes only to see himself reflected in them. “What...what are you?” he stammered.
“I am an angel; your kind would also call me a Virtue.” She answered with a smile; Jonathan felt his heart nearly jump out of his chest.
However her words felt false to him. She was beautiful, even heavenly, but she looked like no angel. “You don’t look like an angel.” He said without thinking and immediately felt bad for what he felt like was insulting her. “I mean, you don’t have any wings and you’re, and you’re a woman.”
She laughed, or rather made a sound that sounded like bells tinkling. “What you mean is I am not a Seraphim, it is them that has the most contact with the Earth. I am no woman either, I was not born of Eve, my body is simply like a female.”
“Oh.” Jonathan acquiesced feeling very stupid and small, like a human often does to an angel. He made another attempt at polite conversation however, “My name is Jonathan Haven, what’s yours?”
“I am called Sabriel, or the Sword of God.”
He paused, “Do you prefer Sabriel or Sword of God?”
“It is one to me.”
“Then, it is nice to meet you Sabriel.”
“It is also nice to meet you Jonathan Haven.”
Jonathan smiled impulsively, “Well at least you angels are nice.”
“Not all of us, we Virtues can afford it Jonathan, remember that” Sabriel said sadly.
Jonathan frowned at the cryptic answer; however he could tell Sabriel didn’t or wouldn’t pursue the subject any further. A thought already in the back of his mind came to the front. After a few minutes gazing at the City of the Dead, he gathered the courage to ask Sabriel, “Sabriel, do you, do you know what happens to people when they die? I mean, where they go?”
Sabriel’s mirror like eyes narrowed, “What do you want to ask me Jonathan?”
He looked at his feet, Sabriel’s very presence made him feel small, almost like a child again. However like a child he would not be denied, “Well on the train I was on, there was this woman and I…I…I love her. I just want to know if she is here too.”
Sabriel looked away from him, she seemed angry, but it didn’t seem directed at him. She said brusquely, “Do not inquire after others after you are dead, you can still feel sorrow here.”
Jonathan felt his blood congeal at the statement, “What do you mean?” he asked.
“That you’ll only end up languishing here in Purgatory longer because you cannot release your grief,” Sabriel walked, no, her feet did not touch the ground, rather she floated forward, beckoning the upset Jonathan to follow her to the riverbank.
“You can only move on to heaven if your soul is clean of all transgressions of your life,” she explained as she turned to face him.
“Then she is not here,” Jonathan realized, that only left one other choice, the word the angel would not say. He deigned to ask anyway thought the thought made him sick, “Is she in hell then?”
The angel did not answer and only stared at him stoically, unafraid to meet his eyes with her strange ones. Though her mouth betrayed her set with sadness creased the corners. However Jonathan did not feel for the angel.
“You answer me with your silence!” he yelled, angry at her for not facing the same reality he must, that Hell existed and someone he loved was there. He felt despair overcome him, and for the first time since he was small child he wept. That Josephine should have to suffer through-out all of eternity was too much for him to pair. It paralyzed him, he felt his legs buckle beneath him and he fell to his knees.
“Its not fair, why should I be here and not her? She was not evil, she was not bad, she was perfect, so perfect, so beautiful so pure! Hell is not the place for her! Only heaven could be worthy!” he cried out as he scratched ugly grazes into the soft ground. “Would I could trade places with her!”
“Do not wish for anything so foolish!” Sabriel snapped, violently interrupting his mournful tirade. Jonathan looked up to see the angel glaring down at him. She seemed larger, greater, her feet dangled in front of his face with her toes curled like her fingers into her fists. “You have no concept of what Hell is or what you’re saying,” she told him.
“I know Heaven would be like Hell without her,” Jonathan still felt defiant enough to argue with Sabriel as awe-inspiring as she was. In fact defying her gave him something to concentrate on other than the hole in his heart.
However Sabriel no longer seemed angry, in fact she drifted down to where she could bend over and other him a hand up. He took it and looked into the angel’s face. He could read nothing in the angel’s eyes that only reflected his own, but she seemed sad, downtrodden even. She turned to look over her shoulder and with a flowing gesture seemed to command a gondola to stop before them. She took him by the hand and lead him into the ornately carved boat. He was not terribly surprised to find it filled with cushions of various sizes.
When they were seated the small barge moved forward with no further prodding. Sabriel seemed to be considering him as they sailed smoothly down the stream. He looked back at her with a defiant look; passion had changed him from his usual amiable self. Sabriel was not being very helpful and he did not like it.
“Jonathan, Purgatory can be a heaven or a hell depending on how you view it,” she finally said after a full minute of silence. “Purgatory is closer to Earth than either, but still close enough to the two for a soul to fall into either quite easily, do you follow me?”
Jonathan nodded.
“Purgatory is a lovely place because you’re not meant to suffer here but instead cleanse yourself, most humans are quite disconcerted by their Death but you have accepted it quickly, that is good. The faster you let go of your life on Earth the faster one can ascend to Heaven. However you can still draw pain onto yourself and only bring yourself farther from Heaven. So far in fact you may fall into Hell, and I don’t want you, or anyone else to go to Hell Jonathan.”
"Then what about the souls that goes to Hell then? Do you just forget about them?!” he angrily interrupted her.
“The souls that go to Hell have chosen Hell before they even died; there is nothing that can be done when a soul chooses to damn itself.” Sabriel answered calmly but with a note of warning in her voice that Jonathan was treading on thin ice.
“I don’t believe that,” he argued.
“A soul that wants to save itself will be saved; some souls choose not to be saved. Forget about her Jonathan, enjoy Purgatory, eat its fruit, drink from its sweet streams, pray and love. Do not allow your thoughts to wander to what cannot be.” Sabriel advised her face set like a stone and her words hitting Jonathan in the stomach like one.
“I cannot, I made a promise to her before we died, that I would protect her, I will fulfilling my vow by relishing Purgatory’s delights whatever they may be! “ Jonathan contended becoming excited enough to sit-up; the boat seemed to take no notice of the sudden action.
“Vows made in life have no bearing in death,” Sabriel countered.
“Yes, yes they do.”