I trained constantly, always under the watchful gaze of the angel Abigail.This place I’d been brought to after my death was constructed out of pure magicthat responded to the whims of those in it. Abigail explained that all I had to do was think of something and Father’s Land would provide it for me. This was too much for my simple warrior brain to grasp, so she demonstrated for me. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, andimagined a mighty ocean stretching out to kiss the horizon; and suddenly, right before my veryeyes an ocean appeared that made the great Eastern Sea of Elyria look like a puddle. I had nowords. All I could do was stare at the sparkling water like a fat child at a freshly-baked applepie.“Now you try, Tragger Drake,” she said with a knowing smile as bright as a millionsuns. “You have the same gifts that I do. Just think of something, and it shall be.” Her eyesdanced as she said this. Though her words seemed too incredible to believe, I’d seen for myself the ocean she had created, I had to at least try.When I was alive, one of my biggest joys was festival time because of the joustingcontests. I had always been an exceptional jouster and usually won the events fairly easily. So,I closed my eyes and imagined the grand jousting court in Elyria’s capitol city of Qum. In mymind I pictured the stands draped in their colorful banners of silk. I saw the trampled dirt of theground, the waist-high center pole that ran along the competing field, and all the squires runningaround tending to the gaily decorated horses.“Open your eyes, Tragger Drake,” whispered Abigail in my ear. “Look at what you havecreated.” I did as she instructed, and there it was, the majestic jousting court at Qum. All in vividdetail, right down to the pungent smell of horse dung. I could do nothing but clap my hands andlet lose a savage laugh. I was damn sure going to like it here.Abigail explained that this place, this magical Nirvana we inhabited was alive, and it wasin tune with our souls. The very land felt what we felt, knew what we knew, loved what we loved,and feared what we feared. “Father made the land alive to help us expand our minds,” she saidin her maddeningly rational voice. “To allow us to learn that only our fear could harm us. Thatour own worst enemy was us, and the undisciplined thoughts that controlled our minds.” Inodded my head thoughtfully for her benefit, but I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.I was a soldier, and as such I preferred simple explanations as opposed to complicated in-depthones that contained big words and lots of thinking to understand. The land magically createdwhat I wanted it to, who cared how or why? That was simple enough for my warrior mind tocomprehend. That worked well for me. Abigail gave me a sheepish smile and promised that intime I would come to fully understand all the lessons Father wanted me to know. For themoment, however, my simplistic explanation of Father’s Land would be acceptable. I thought Ihad learned all I needed to know. I was ready to create some highly-trained soldiers and kicksome serious ass.However, my lessons were just beginning.I had been given the powers of a God; short of flying like a bird, there was nothing Icouldn’t do. With a thought I could send objects as big as a festival booth hurtling through theair, or I could draw them to me just as easily. If I was feeling particularly feisty, I could explodethem into tiny shards. Shattering things brought me endless joy though it usually caused Abigailto roll her eyes and demand that I restore it back to its rightful shape. That wasn’t nearly as fun,
though it was gratifying to know that I could do that as well.Abigail, she detested being called Abby, so I made it a point to call her that as often aspossible, explained that the key to my using my incredible powers laid in thought. All I had todo was concentrate on something, and whatever I thought about a certain thing manifesteditself into reality. Oh, how I wished I had this power when I was alive; I would’ve scattered everysingle cell in King Collin’s worthless body throughout the four corners of the globe. I could’vebeen King Tragger, the most ruthless and powerful being to ever rule Elyria. The thought wassimply too delicious not to smile over. Abigail was forever scolding me, reminding me that thesenew powers of mine were never to be used for personal gain, but rather as a weapon in our Father’s eternal struggle against the
Evil One
, whom roamed the earth disguised as a mortalcausing mayhem and stealing souls from the good people of the towns and villages wherever he went.I both understood and didn’t understand the logic behind this; the soldier in me graspedthe concept of using these fantastic powers as a weapon against the enemy, but the human inme didn’t understand why our Father didn’t just snap His mighty fingers and vaporize the
Evil One
. I made the foolish mistake of bringing this up with Abigail, and that raven-haired angelwith the fiery-temper, admonished me for daring to question Father’s ways, and then sent myass crashing through a mighty Pine tree. Then, she lectured me on destroying such a beautifulpiece of Father’s Creation and forced me to use my powers to mend the tree.I had to retaliate, of course. She may be an angel, but I wasn’t just some ragamuffinshe picked up off the streets, I was a feared and highly respected soldier in a mighty army, andI came fully loaded with a temper of my own. So, I covered my winged instructor from head totoe in honey, and laughed until I cried as I watched her become very good friends with all thebees and ants very quickly. It’s heartwarming to watch someone you care about make newfriends, and Abby had such a . . .
sweet
way about her that day. I did, however, learn not to asktoo many questions; especially where our Father’s holy war was concerned.The mission, however, was always constantly on my mind, and the longer I was left outof the loop, the longer I went without seeing our Father for myself, the angrier I became. Whywasn’t I good enough to be seen by Him? Why did He only go through Abigail? She got to seeand speak to our Father all the time, why was I excluded? Was my soul tarnished somehow?Was I unworthy of Him? Was it because I wasn’t an angel? How did one go about becomingan angel, if that was indeed the case? What did I do so wrong that He refused to speak tome? Was it because I had taken the lives of His other children while I was alive? How could Hepossibly hold that against me? I was a warrior, it was my duty to kill in the name of my liege. If He didn’t want me to spill his children's blood, why did He pick that life for me then? What wasI supposed to do? I wondered, not for the first time, if Abigail had ever killed a man while shewas human. I never asked, but I suspected not; it just didn’t seem like something she could do.Killers could always spot killers, there was just something dark and vaguely sinister smolderingin their eyes. Abigail didn’t have that darkness burning behind hers. She had a mean streak tobe sure, she was loaded with all kinds of mischievous evil, but a killer -- no, she just didn’t havethat in her.That must be the reason why our Father shunned me. I was a murderer. I had killedHis children in battle. My soul was tainted, or ruined, or smeared, or whatever it is theysay happens to a man’s soul once he has taken another life. I was unworthy of Him. I was
unworthy of Abigail.I understood my place; death might be a new plane for me, but it was the same oldstory. I was nothing more than the brute killer in this epic plan, and I was more than willing toaccept my part. After all, it was the only one I had ever known. However, I also understoodstrategy and battlefield tactics. I had a lot more to offer then just swinging a mighty swordand killing the perceived enemy. If Father wasn’t willing to see his ruined warrior, then theleast He could do was hear how I planned on waging His war. Abigail was the pristine guide,all shimmering light and blessed soul, I was the filthy warrior cur. Fine. Then if I was to bethe general, then
somebody
had better start listening to my battle plan, or they could just findanother barrel-chested grunt to swing the damned sword for them.I walked through the the lush green grass with this thought churning in my head. Theweather turned as gloomy as my mood; the skies became as grey as my eyes and a cold bitter wind swept through the trees Abigail loved to knock me through. Snow started falling steadilyand the furry creatures who always seemed to be about darted frantically seeking shelter frommy mood’s sudden storm. I didn’t care about any of it. It wasn’t like me to be this despondent,and I had to admit that my state of mind surprised me. I was a solider; following orders withoutquestion had been my entire existence while I’d been alive, so why wasn’t it acceptable now indeath? I scoffed aloud at that thought. I clearly wasn’t considered intellectual enough to handlesuch deep thoughts, that’s what Abigail was for. She was the brains of this outfit, I was nothingmore than the dumbshit muscle. I should be fine with that arrangement. That was exactly whata soldier was; muscle for the grand designs of another. I sighed with melancholy, what a shittysurprise it was for me to discover that my death was just as confusing as my life had been.Abigail, pale purplish/blue wings spread out gracefully behind her, appeared in frontof me from out of nowhere wearing an elaborately decorated hooded shroud and a painedexpression. It was a look I’d never seen on her before, and it pained my heart to see her wear it now. The wind played with her black hair under her hood making it dance across her ivoryforehead. Though this was hardly the first time I’d ever laid eyes on her, I was staggered byher pure beauty. Her eyes betrayed her concern over the storm raging inside my soul, and Iwas touched that she cared enough about me to want to comfort me, if indeed that’s what wason her mind. She was just as likely to send me crashing through a wall of her creation, than tooffer me kind words of love and understanding.I wanted to tell her how I was feeling, but before I could open my mouth she reachedher hand out and placed her index finger on my lips. Her touch was warm and comforting uponmy cold flesh. “Be still your tongue, Tragger Drake, and put thy fear behind you. Your wordsare not needed. Your thoughts are screaming so loudly that all the angels in Father’s Kingdomare weeping with your pain. Set aside your worries, Brave One, for I’ve been sent by Father toexplain everything to you . . .” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I see his grey eyes, full of pity and despair, desperately seeking mine for answers. Ihave them, but I do not know if I have the heart to tell him what he needs to know. When it ismy time to guide Tragger Drake to his destiny, I could very well lose him forever. I had alreadyendured the pain of losing my Golden-God Warrior once, when Glyn’s soul was destroyed, I
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