Being Human

The Angel's Tale

 A/N: This is Part II of  the entire story. It's one whole chapter and told from Emile's POV. :)   

       As soon as I opened my eyes again, I was treated to blinding whiteness. It took me a moment to adjust to my surroundings, and the first thing my eyes adjusted to was the odd silvery-gold glint somewhere to my left. I turned my head slowly, expecting pain; oddly enough, there was none. I raised my hands in front of my eyes; they looked whole, clean, and younger than I had seen them. The scar I got from a struggle in catacombs was gone. I reached towards my left side and saw the same cross I had. It still sparkled magnificently.

       I stood up. For the first time, I noticed my surroundings. There were a lot of flowers, for one thing; the air hung thickly of their scent. It should have been unpleasant and sickening, but they weren’t-they all smelled the same, even. A fountain happily gurgled nearby, and birds cawed and sang on their perches. I could hear laughter from the distance, and sunlight shone brightly, its rays pure and clean. I looked down on my body, and saw that I was still wearing the armor, but this time they were shining as though they were new, and there were no burn marks whatsoever on any part of it. I took a few steps forward, trying to look for someone to ask where I was, and what I was doing there.

       After a few moments, I heard a rustle behind me. I spun around and saw Father, holding a pair of clippers and a hat, looking extremely dirty, with all the soil clinging to his clothes. He smiled at me and welcomed me to Heaven.

       “I’m in…Heaven?” I asked blankly.

        “Yes, of course! If I am not mistaken you had just recently died. Wait, that sounded very morbid. Pardon me, son,” Father said, grinning apologetically.

        “Er, Father, if you don’t mind me asking…where is my grandfather? Didn’t he go with me?”

         Father paused in his gardening. He looked up at me and said, “Yes, he did. And he has left this part of heaven to go into another section, where most of those like him are.”

       “And where is that, Father?”

        Father sighed and put down His clippers. “I hate doing this part of the tour,” He muttered, and sat down on the grass. “Come, boy, we shall talk.”

       I sat down next to him, confused. There were tours in Heaven? “Your grandfather, Emilianus, to begin with, made a choice. From what they have taught about Christianity and Heaven and Hell, I know that they have mentioned angels somewhere in the teachings. But what people miss out on teaching about angels is that not everyone becomes an angel; some become angels by choice, others by being born, and others simply because I wanted them to, and because I believed them to be worthy of being an angel. But I don’t do the last part very often, Emilianus. I like to keep my word to humanity, even though they meet me as souls already and not so much as a corporeal being.”

          “Which is what?”

          “My word that I’d give them free will. Choice is free will, Emilianus. Even for souls I wouldn’t dream of taking that away.”

         “So,” I said, frowning slightly, “what are you telling me, Father?”

         “I am telling you that your grandfather had already made a choice, that’s why he isn’t here.”

         “Is he an angel now?”

         “I am afraid not, Emilianus. Sadly, very few souls choose to be angels.”

           “Ut est radicitus ridiculum,” [1]I muttered.

           [2]“Forsitan vobis is est, tamen is est a secui sponte. Ego cannot speciosus meus votum, pro suum entential es non quispiam ego can interfere per. Valde pauci sumo futurus angelus parumper causa, filius. Is est non ridiculum volo res secus.”