Paradiso

Part I - Divini

A young angel, Doelle, shook hands with the most good of all beings in the Afterlives, the Prince of Light himself, Uriel. Many had done so for the same reason he now did, but he was very different from them. For one thing, Doelle was very young to be receiving this honour; he was barely a century old, and yet, he had ascended high enough in his studies and training to become a guardian angel. He felt pride. This was the other thing that set him so far apart; the bright, sharp pride that lit his eyes like cold stars. Though he denied he felt it, Doelle was proud of what he had accomplished, proud that he was the youngest angel being accepted into this profession here today. There was a whole ceremony about it for a reason; "guardian angel" was not a common or easy job, even amongst the denizens of Heaven. It was nearly as elite as the seraphims, seers and judges and advisors of the Prince. Guardian angels served much differently than seraphims, though; their aim was to save as many worthy souls on Earth as possible, seeing them through horrible disasters and out of Death's very hands. It was taxing, mentally and physically, but Doelle was strong enough. He had prepared. He had stamped out every weakness; he had denied himself much that even his peers couldn't. He had made himself the perfect angel for the job. His pride was (for the most part) warranted. That was the third thing that set him apart from the others here; the sheer extent of what he had repressed to make himself perfect.

Still, despite all this prestige and pride and denial, he couldn't help but be in awe of the force before him. The Prince of Light stood gracefully, his seven wings tucked behind him and his arm arched down to Doelle. His hand felt like a cooling breath of morning air as it cordially shook his. His gaze glowed gently, sunlight beaming through silver clouds. The eye-markings on his wings echoed the same soft glow. His forehead, his brow, his smile were all soft and serene... but something lingered under it. Beneath the sweetness of early spring lurked the frost of miserable winter; the knowledge that, though he must exude hope and joy for these new guardian angels, he would be able to do nothing as they perished in the lines of duty—or worse, as they found themselves tormented for the rest of their lives by the possibility that they had ever made the wrong decision and let a human worthy of life die. They would wonder if they had ever drawn the line between good and bad too thin. He would never be able to absolve them of their guilt; in truth, not even he, the Prince of Light, had ever been able to draw the line himself.