William is Dead

Emily was already back there and beckoned to him as soon as she saw him.

"Will, what was that like for you?"

There was clear excitement in the way she was moving, energetic and vibrant.

"It was different," he said. "I don't know. It was strange. Told that thing about my early life and all of that. Listen, can you remember your death?"

"Most of it. Things get hazy towards the end," said Emily, thoughtfully. "It's weird because most of my life feels like a newsreel now, you know? I can think back to a time and place and just move it around in my head and it feels like I'm watching a bunch of art installations."

"Like it's a three-dimensional space that you can move in and out of," said Will, nodding in agreement.

"Right. But the strangest thing is the emotions. I can feel the emotions when I'm there. And they're not just inside me, they're outside of me. It's like they're in that physical space and I can walk in and out of them."

Will stayed silent because this was not his experience and for some reason, he didn't want to share it with her.

It was not until much later that he knew the reason was because he did not feel normal. According to Emily, some of the other humans had shown the same sort of enthusiasm for the exploration of their past as well as the evoked emotions. For Will, the enthusiasm was missing. It was a shadowy reflection of how he had felt in life. He supposed he could've asked some of the other dead what they had experienced, but beyond Emily, he had not made any efforts with them, nor did he feel the urge to.

This was a pattern that persisted. He'd watch the others socialise more and more while he stood at the side, observing them carefully. At first, it was because some of the other humans had opted to remain naked, while he began wearing simple clothes. Eventually, he had to admit to himself he just felt he was not taking to the place the way the others were. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for when he observed them, only that he wanted to see how things played out between them all. Their growing comfort with one another was almost as alien to him as the Shepherds themselves.

Emily was different. Emily was an abundance of ease and comfort, and though she would sometimes talk to the others, she always sought him out whenever they were not being Questioned. He had no explanation for her doing that, other than the possibility that the arrival of the other dead, the time they spent alone together had cemented a bond between them.

More Questionings happened. The second seemed inconsequential as all Y did was ask about Will's education and the various jobs he had had over his life. There were times when Y seemed to hint at linking the jobs to various aspects of Will's personality, but Will made that notion meaningless when he pointed out several times that he worked simply for the money. At the end of that Questioning, Will was forced to admit to himself that he had never found a singular passion to strive for in life.

When the lack of passion came up in the third Questioning, Y asked, "Is this a matter of disturbance for you?"

"That I never had a passion for anything specific? I don't know. I mean, not everyone can find their passion, can they?"

"Does every human have a passion?"

Will stopped to think about that. "Probably not."

"Then, does it matter so much?"

"It matters to some people."

"What defines when it matters?"

Will frowned. "You know, Y, sometimes your questions don't quite make sense to me. You ask me questions about being human, and yet I was told by you... Shepherds, that you wanted to know the details of my life. These seem to be two separate things."

Y's head tilted ever so slightly, a sign that Will had come to recognise was its way of showing thoughtfulness. "Are they separate?" Y asked.

"Details are just minutiae. They're just things that happened. The meaning of being human goes beyond that."

"We have heard from your kind before that the devil is in the details. We have heard that what a human being does, is how they show themselves to be who they are. And who they are defines how they express their humanness. Their actions carry meaning."

Will did not like hearing that. "I don't know if I agree with that," said Will.

"Why not?"

"There's an implication then, that if someone doesn't act as much as others, they're somehow less human than someone else."

"Is there?"

Will tugged at his sleeve and hesitated. "We have entire worlds inside of us. We have thoughts beyond anything we could do in our actions. We carry entire stories that we never speak of. A person may spend their lives prone to inactivity, but it doesn't somehow diminish their humanity."

"We will have to think upon this. But I would like to know more about passion."

Will found it an odd thing to focus on because it was too abstract for his liking. "Go on."

"You said you performed actions to survive, that you worked because it was a means of living. You make a distinction between this and having a passion in life. Please tell me more."

"I can't speak for everyone else, only myself. All I mean is, I never really found anything I did for the enjoyment of doing it, and also as a means of making my way through the world. Some people, they find something they enjoy doing and they use it to survive. And then it doesn't feel like work anymore. It feels like they've found something meaningful, something fulfilling."

"Fulfilling?"

"Something that makes their life worth living, I suppose."

"And you did not find this?"

Will went quiet. Was that how it was then? He had lived a life that maybe he deemed wasn't worth living. "No, I didn't," said Will eventually. He could not keep the sadness out of his voice.

"Is passion always tied to work and survival?"

"No. It can mean different things. It just means having a strong emotion. A strong drive. A strong enthusiasm for something. For some people it can be something as simple as having a passion for women."

Y seemed to become taller for a moment as it straightened its back. The orb on the centre of the table glowed stronger and Will watched as a few lights appeared near his body and flowed into the orb. It wasn't the first time he had witnessed it, but it was the first time he briefly thought of how he had heard there were Native American tribes who believed having a photograph taken of them meant having part of their souls stolen. He'd always found that a fascinating idea but at that moment, sitting in that chair and staring at the orb, it was a horrifyingly real prospect. He took a deep breath, though technically he had no need to, but the action served to calm him a little.

"Women," said Y. "You are a male, yes?"

"I am. Do you have genders? Sexes?" Will asked. It was rare he asked a question but sometimes the curiosity was too strong to ignore.

"We do not. Your examples of biology have an interesting variation. Rather fascinating," said Y.

"I suppose so."

"Did you have a passion for women? There is a word we have seen from every human being who has passed through."

"What's that?"

"Love."

Will nodded. It was hardly a surprise. Given how the Questionings had gone so far, he had no doubt it was going to be discussed and with such an awfully large and varied topic, there was no telling how it was going to go.

"You know of the word," said Y.

"Most people do," replied Will, his voice showing a weary resignation. It was not his favourite topic.

"You are reluctant to speak of this."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter. I don't want to talk about it."

"But we are performing the Questioning."

"So?" Will's lip twitched. His eyes narrowed and he looked at the wall, breathing just a little more slowly.

"We ask. You answer."

"What if I don't? What if I don't want to?"

"We will end this and begin anew another time."

Will's gaze settled on Y again. Its facial shapes flickered in a random pattern before they all turned off. Will couldn't help but look beyond again, at those slow lava-lamp-like lights revolving around the centre of the head. His eyes drifted down to look at the neck where he could see the top of the spinal cord fading into existence.

"And I have no choice on that?"

"You can choose to answer."

"So, really... we're dead and we have no real freedom. We're at your mercy."

"Mercy? What is mercy?"

"Showing compassion for someone who's been terrible. I don't know why you're asking. If people have been passing through here after death, then you must know all about us," Will pointed out.

Y ignored that and instead, asked, "Have you been terrible, William Dormin?"

It was the first time Y had said his name and he wasn't sure how to handle it. The question made his shoulders and back tense up. He said nothing; the wall to the side was suddenly more interesting again.

"We know there are many different kinds of love," said Y. "We wish to know what kinds were most prominent for you."

"Is that right?"

"If you would, please."

A flood of memories hit Will, too many for him to sort through properly. All they had in common was love, but only the word itself, not the action. It was something that many people around him had not figured out, he realised. Love was an action, as well as a word.

"You are reluctant to speak of this. This tells us that you have had some experiences worth speaking of where love is concerned."

"You're wrong. I have no experiences worth speaking of where love is concerned. In fact, that question is meaningless to me. I don't have a good memory of when it was most prominent. Or what kind was most prominent. You're talking about a concept that is so widely spread over being human that it's impossible to agree on what it means universally. I didn't love, nor did I have love." Will's voice was bitter and quiet.

"We believe that is a lie."

"Oh? Why's that then?" Now his tone was dangerously monotone, though of course the Shepherd would not pick up on it.

"You said you had two younger sisters. Was there no familial love?"

"There was. Once."

"Once?"

Will rolled his eyes. "By the time I died, I hadn't spoken to one of my sisters for three years. So, I doubt there was any love for me left in her. And the other sister... We had a difficult relationship. I don't think she loved me either."

"Did you love them?"

Will hesitated. The question hit him like a sledgehammer, and he stopped breathing for a few moments. Letting out a slow sigh, he shrugged. "Yes. They were my sisters."

"Even in all that absence and turmoil?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you believe they did not reciprocate?"

Will shifted position nervously and lowered his head.

"This is a topic of consternation for you."

"I'd like to stop talking about this now," said Will hurriedly. "In fact, I'd like this Questioning to stop."

"Why?"

"Doesn't matter. I won't be answering any more questions."

Y tilted its head and said nothing for so long, Will almost broke the silence. More motes of light appeared near Will and entered the orb. He stared at it and was unsure, but it seemed the orb was a little brighter than before.

"Very well," said Y. "We will stop."

Will got up and didn't even bother to watch Y disappear. He began to walk towards the main hall, but changed his mind and went to his bedroom instead. The last thing he wanted was to be amongst the other dead.

He stopped at the doorway of his room when he saw Emily sitting on his bed, her back against the wall. She quickly moved forward upon seeing him, her expression uncertain, as though she was unsure of whether she was welcome there. Her eyes were sad and the smile he was used to seeing was barely there.

Once she was at the edge of his bed, he sat down next to her.

"Emily?"

"Hi."

"You look about as good as I feel."

She gave him a small smile. "I was just thinking that about you."

"What's wrong?" Will asked, voice full of concern.

"I had a pretty bad time with the Questioning today. I mean, this day—uh, this time? You know what I mean."

"What happened?"

"Oh... I got asked a few questions about my children. Let's just say I realised some things I hadn't known before. I suppose that's the horrible side of having clarity."

"What kind of things?"

Emily sighed. "I don't know how I didn't see it before. I just... I saw a few memories. Examined them. Two of my children were just waiting for me to die so they could inherit my wealth. Can you believe that? They felt... very little for me."

"I'm sorry, Emily."

Emily shrugged, trying to resist her deep frown. "I brought them into the world. I thought I knew them. I knew what good parenting was. I knew they were their own people, and it was good to let them be their own people, but I just don't understand what I did that led to them being like that."

"What if you did nothing?"

"I find it hard to believe that."

"I don't. From what I know of you, at least."

Emily looked at him, smiling softly. "Thank you, Will. I just don't know how to feel about this. I thought all of this would be okay. All these questions, all the things I've learned. It was idiocy not to realise it'd also mean learning things I didn't want to know."

"Well... that's the whole point of hindsight, right?"

"Right. I suppose I should be thankful I had a long life. And I was loved, at least."

Will nodded half-heartedly at that.

"Will? What is it? I didn't even ask you how you are. You look terrible. Tell me."

He shook his head. "It's not important."

"Are you sure? I'm right here," she said, reaching out and grasping his forearm.

Her touch was warm and the kindness in it made some wall inside melt away. As he watched the lights bouncing around in his forearm he said, "I was asked a few questions I didn't want to answer."

"Oh? Do you mind if I ask what they were?"

"Just about love, actually. And my sisters. And I guess my relationship with them. And loving and feeling loved."

"Difficult subject?"

"Somewhat. I... didn't get on with my sisters. Not for a long time before I died. I doubt they even had any love left for me."

"I find that hard to believe," said Emily, in a reassuring voice.

Will shook his head. "I wasn't particularly good to them, Emily. My life was a mess. I had a lot of issues and I was the kind of arsehole that took it out on other people for a while. And unfortunately, my sisters got the brunt of it when we were growing up."

"What do you mean by 'took it out' on them?"

"Nothing violent or physical. I was just an angry man and I had issues sometimes." Will paused. "With addictions. I was clean for the last five years of my life but there was so much waste that I just didn't know what to do with my emotions, I guess."

"Will... that's all in the past."

"It doesn't feel like it is," said Will. That was the whole issue, really. He was dead and yet he did not feel as though he was moving on in any way. "I don't see why I should answer all of these questions they're asking me. I want to know why they want to know these things."

Emily nodded. "I'm starting to wonder a lot more, too. Look, for what it's worth... you've shown me nothing but kindness since we came here. That's the Will I think of when I think of you."

He had the impulse to ask her how often she did think of him, but he resisted. He smiled at her, and she returned the smile. She moved forward and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a long, deep hug, which he returned gratefully.

"Can I just sit here with you?" Emily asked, against his neck.

"Yeah, of course."

They sat together after, whiling away the time in each other's company.

---xxx---

Lesser

It was after the fourth Questioning that there was excitement for something new in the main hall. When Will returned after facing some questions about physical desires, which he felt had made him think of Emily a little too much, there was already a crowd loosely situated around one of the dead.

Will pulled on one sleeve nervously as he approached the crowd from the side.

Luc sat in the middle of the crowd, a beatific smile on his face and a look of wonderment. Will knew him well enough to see the changes; Luc's skin was a little more translucent and the lights that coursed from the spinal cord outwards, were more prominent than before. His eyes were aglow with golden and blue lights in concentric circles. Even his hair seemed to be giving off light.

Emily nudged Will's arm and he looked to her in surprise. He could not help but stare at her for a few seconds to take in her appearance. She was wearing a simple dress that hugged her lithe body, accentuating the curves of her hips and thighs. Her long black hair was draped over one shoulder and loosely plaited.

"What's going on, Will?"

"I don't know. I just got back."

"That's Luc," said Emily, frowning slightly. "But he looks very different. What the hell?"

Luc held up a hand and the others quietened down.

"My friends," said Luc, his smile growing even wider. "The Shepherds have told me I am ready to pass on to the next Great Adventure."

The crowd began murmuring again.

"What's that mean?" Someone asked.

"I'm ready to Ascend," said Luc. "They've explained it to me. This place is a kind of limbo. Soon, they'll be coming here to take me to one of their cities. There will be a Ritual and I'll Ascend to the next plane. They have a record of who I am now and they can use that to help me move on. That's all it is! That's the only reason they want to know who we are, because it helps attune the Ritual properly."

A sort of sigh ran through the crowd, followed by sounds of excitement and relief. Will, however, regarded Luc suspiciously. There was something not quite right. There was too much of a calmness and acceptance in Luc's manner for Will's liking.

"I know some of you will be reluctant. I know how difficult it is," said Luc, his eyes passing over the crowd. Will saw that Luc focused on him just a little longer than he did on the others. Luc carried on. "This is one of the hardest things we've had to do. So many of us have struggled, I know. We've had to expose the darkest and deepest and most flawed parts of ourselves. It's not easy, but it is worth it.

"What I've learned is, everything we're burdened by in life is simply the human version of what the Shepherds call darkness and pain. This place is perfect for shedding it, and the Shepherds have perfected the process of helping us leave it behind. I feel so unburdened, and now I am truly dead. It's time for my Rebirth. Now I understand, and I'm telling all of you, there is nothing to fear. There really isn't."

Luc smiled wider. It looked almost inane to Will.

"The Orbs are the key. Give yourself to them, and they will give back clarity. They will give back the ability to let go. Once we shed our weights, we will rise," Luc spread his palms hands out for emphasis.

With that, he stood up and the crowd took a step back softly. He looked at everyone, nodded once to acknowledge their presence and then raised both hands as high as he could in supplication to the still air.

A chaotic mess of auras appeared, merging into three different Shepherds, one of whom Will recognised as the tallest he had seen before. The one he often thought of as the Leader.

"You have said your goodbyes?" The Leader asked, facing Luc directly.

"I am ready," confirmed Luc, nodding lightly. He looked at the crowd again. "I hope to see you all in the next place."

There were a chorus of goodbyes and other noises that Will mostly ignored. He was too busy looking at the way Luc moved, less human now and a bit more like the Shepherds themselves. To the crowd, Luc may have looked the very essence of an enlightened man, but to Will, he looked like someone who had had some of his humanity stripped from him. He thought of the orb on the table and wondered how much of himself Luc had given away.