Page 14 of Against All Odds

“You did?” I completed the movement by running a hand through my sleek, black hair, hoping he hadn’t noticed my initial violent instinct. “Then you know me better than I do.”

“I may not know you, but I know humanity.” Jurrian chuckled low in his throat. He was a sight to behold – the exposed parts of his arms sharply toned, his dark skin contrasting with his white robes and the gray stones of the library, his eyes sparkling gold when he laughed. If he wasn’t getting on my nerves so much – and my supervisor, sort of? – I might’ve considered him attractive. “It’s a very human thing to always want to busy yourself, leaving no time to think about the questions larger than life.”

I lowered my current read, a particularly interesting one called ‘The Butterfly Effect: how Cause and Effect are always Connected’. “You seem to know a lot about humans.” It wasn’t so much about wanting to know him as it was about welcoming the company of anyone who wasn’t Soraya and the toxic people she surrounded herself with. “What was it you said? You were once a guardian angel, too?”

Jurrian’s smile faded. He hesitated.

“I mean, you don’t have to answer,” I said quickly, closing the book before patting the pillow beside me. “Maybe just keep me company for a second? Is that allowed?”

Jurrian looked from my place on the ground to the couch. He seemed to assess both options before lowering himself onto the couch.

The couch did look comfortable – but I found sitting on the ground pleasantly humbling, surrounded by knowledge larger than me.

“Good coffee,” I said by way of a conversation starter, lifting my steaming mug. Not much of a talker, this man. “I was surprised to find it here.”

Jurrian laughed again, baring bright white teeth. “The coffee in the higher realm is supposed to be even better.”

“Supposed?” I tilted my head, subtly trying to test how many personal questions I could ask him before he would flee again. “You’ve never been to the higher realm?”

“I was offered.” He lowered his gaze. “I politely declined.”

“You did?” My jaw dropped. “Why on earth would you decline Heaven?”

“I didn’t feel like I deserved it yet.” He shifted on the couch, looking uncomfortable. “So I chose to guide others instead, until I felt like I’d made up for my mistakes. Think of me as your mentor. Not many choose this path, which is why there are so few like me.”

My jaw must be on the floor by now. “Are you kidding me? If God – or whoever – decides you’ve earned your place in Heaven, why would you disagree with that?”

Jurrian flashed a smile that looked forced. “That brings us to our next philosophical question, Seren. Whose judgment weighs heavier – God’s or your own? After all, it is your own you will have to live with for eternity.”

I lowered my gaze. I didn’t want to tell him what I thought: that God’s would be easier to accept. If He decided I deserved to go to Heaven, maybe I could convince myself He was right, and I deserved it, too.

“If you’re not an angel, then what are you?” I asked matter-of-factly.

Jurrian scratched his head, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I was born with a divine status, if that is what you mean, but I personally do not like the term.” He paused. “I’m just another soul like you, trying to make up for past mistakes. Only I have been alive for much longer than you, and therefore, you can hopefully learn from my mistakes.”

I blew out air, thinking it through. How was I supposed to learn from him if this man kept speaking in riddles all the damn time?

Instead of opening that discussion, I moved on to the next topic. “So, why a library?” Upon seeing his raised eyebrows, I gestured around me. “There’s hardly anything to do here except read.”

He didn’t reply immediately. I picked the book back up, assuming we would continue our hang-out in silence.

“The liminal realm is supposed to be only a passing plane.” To my surprise, he spoke again, and I lowered the book to give my full attention to whatever he was willing to share with me. “Souls usually only reside here for a brief period as they await their judgment. However, the guardian arrangement has changed things.” He paused, the creases in his forehead deepening. “Maybe you’ve noticed other people here.”

I gave a hesitant nod. “Here and there, I’ve seen them in the aisles, but most of them aren’t very talkative.” I grimaced, glancing over at the seated figure at the far end of the aisle. The man’s head was covered by a hoodie. I couldn’t hear him from here, but when I walked past him and attempted a conversation earlier, he seemed more interested in mumbling to himself.

Jurrian sighed, and there it was again – that brief hint of annoyance crossing his face, as if he didn’t agree with the decisions of whoever was above him in this strange celestial hierarchy. “Souls aren’t meant to spend such a large amount of time in isolation. The library was created to provide some sort of communal space, as well as a source of knowledge for restless souls while they work on their assignments.”

I breathed out slowly, letting his words sink in. “Created by whom?”

“My supervisors,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“God?”

“No, Seren. Not God. I told you, I don’t even know if such an entity exists.” He sighed. “When I mention my supervisors, I’m referring to the Celestial Court. One layer closer to the Source than I am. They are responsible for overseeing the guardian arrangement and reinforcing its rules.”

I smiled slightly. “Do all humans ask such annoying questions as I do?”

“Not annoying,” he said thoughtfully. “Just… unaware. But that is understandable. After all, we are here to learn and then apply the knowledge we have gained. Problems arise when one acquires knowledge but fails to put it into practice – living and dead alike.”