“Do you have any questions?” His sky-blue eyes peer over at me, locking with mine. I don’t know quite why, but I trust him. He’s perfect in every way, his features both strong and soft, intense and oddly calming.

“I don’t know,” I sigh and pick up a long, twisted stick and push around bright, autumn-colored embers that lay at the bottom of the fire bed.

It’s mid-November and the air around me seems to cling to my clothes heavily, making me a little drowsy. “Wait.” I look at the fire as he tosses two round logs on to it, sparks fly upward, caught in the slight, nearly undetectable breeze. “What are you then? How did you get caught up in this?” I ask, trying to figure it out. I don’t even know his name. All I know is that I’m apparently some sort of angel, and an important one at that. One destined to spend eternity guarding the gates of Purgatory, which just so happens to also be the Sacred Garden. You know, the one God forbade humans from entering after Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of Knowledge? Yeah, that one. I also learned that my ex best friend, Stephanie, is a prophet, one that has three different celestial entities merged into her. Kane, Persephone, and the demon of jealousy, Succorbenoth… How fitting.

“I’m an angel as well. My name is Azriel, the angel of death. My helping you was imminent. I, in terms one like you would understand, am perceived as this infamous being that humans would call ‘Death.’ I deal with souls, sorting them, one might say, into categories much like one might sort through their mail.

“You see, not everyone goes to Heaven right away. There’s a waiting list; only the best get into Heaven first, and the worst go where they belong. The rest are left to either wander or to be confined within the walls of Purgatory.”

“I see.” I look at the angel. His features scream perfection, as does his matter-of-fact tone. I don’t know why I’m not as skeptical as I would usually be about this sort of thing. I like to think of myself as a more practical kind of person. But, with all I’ve seen tonight, I find it hard to believe that there aren’t supernatural forces out there. “So, Purgatory… What’s it like?” I ask, tossing my stick aside and watching as the thin tip of it smolders and is extinguished by the frost-laced ground. “I mean, I’ve heard that it isn’t pleasant; I’ve heard that it’s the worst place possible to go, riddled with pain, darkness and despair.” I stare into my dark surroundings, wondering if I’ll ever see daylight again.

Azriel chuckles, sitting next to me and pulling his knees to his chest. He looks just like a child, his perfection leaving as joy replaces it.
“Honestly, Aurien, I’d give anything to guard those gates. The stories you’ve heard, the ones that have been passed down for centuries, are all lies. The only purpose they hold is to ward humans away from the Gardens. It’s the most beautiful place known to exist within this universe. The risk of guarding it is great, but the reward is well worth it.”

I’m shocked by this news. “So Heaven creates conspiracies, too?” I ask, watching as a smile appears on his lips.

“I suppose you could say that,” he grins. “I am actually very fortunate to be able to assist you with this mission. I’ve only ever seen the outside walls of Purgatory. The tall, intimidating hedges give little fuel for imagination. I can only guess what is hidden behind them.”
“So… Not even angels are allowed to enter Purgatory?” I’d always assumed that angels held a superior role over humans, therefore being free to roam where they please.

“Only a select few are granted access. I know humans have a hard time understanding this concept, but angels are nothing. We angels were created, not to be loved, but to assist your kind –or what used to be your kind. We don’t have near the freedom humans do. For, if we disobey our Father, we are immediately executed.”

My eyes widen at this last part. Executed? What does that mean? How does one kill an angel?
My mind fills with questions derived from this new information. Did they expect me to be perfect? I didn’t feel perfect; heck, if I looked in the mirror right now I probably wouldn’t even look like an angel should.
Fear coursed through me as I realized that everything had changed forever. I would never be able to see my mom and dad again, I’d never be able to go to the mall with my friends. I’d be isolated, forced to guard the silver gates that adorned the “intimidating” hedges around these fascinating gardens.

I see Azriel tense and turn toward me. “I didn’t mean to frighten you; it’s actually not that hard. One must just obey our Father. He doesn’t ask much. This is the first time I’ve ever been singled out and asked to perform a specific task, and only because, as the Angel of Death, it is my duty. The only way you could put your own life in danger would be by consulting with a Demon or defying our Father.”

“Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. I was a little relieved, scared still, but relieved. “Shouldn’t we be going?” I ask as I stand up and brush off the back of my jeans. I look around for something to put the fire out with and come up fruitless.

Azriel stands up too, doing his best to rid his clothes of crystalized precipitation and moving to put the fire out. I watch, my mind sort of numb at this point and my hands pulled safely underneath my long sleeves, as the large flames dance around his feet, pulling at his pant leg, it seemed, in an effort to survive. They are extinguished with a final stomp and he turns to me.

“Now I suppose it’s time to get you your grace.” He turns to the north and starts walking, briskly with even paced-steps.

“My what?” I ask, jogging a few steps to catch up to him.

“Your grace… It’s sort of a finalization of becoming an angel. Each angel, though we cannot see it, emits a sort of light; it’s like a signature. I could identify you by your specific light signature. It’s a type of security, but it’s also necessary for us angels to have in order to perform many tasks, as you will soon learn.”

“Oh, okay,” I say a little baffled. There’s always more and more being added to this angel thing. It’s way too much to comprehend in just one night and I find myself blocking out Azrael’s words, my mind straying and thinking of what is to come. Life from now on would be much different for me, and I had no idea how to control all of these things that seemed to be happening around me. No one asked me if I was alright with this. Truth is I’m scared to death of having so much responsibility. I don’t want to mess up, which, for me, is really easy, something that comes naturally to me.

“Let us go,” Azriel says, grabbing my arm, and everything goes black, the feeling of wind intense against my face. It’s time to meet my maker… Literally.