Disappear: Into Shadow

- CHAPTER NINETEEN -

Michael was thinking about fountains. From the small garden variety, to the stainless steel fountains of high schools and libraries, he visualized the whole gamut. He pictured cold water rushing against his lips, soothing him and quenching his thirst. He thought of huge outdoor varieties, shooting towers of water high into the air to fall, atomized, in a fine mist. Water, cascading into large reflecting pools shimmers, dancing as spouts rose and fell; but, Azrael had suggested gurgling, trickling, babbling waters running over smooth stone. Giant spouts and geyser-like fountains did not match her description. Michael thought about more subdued sounds. Her fountain would have a quiet murmur. Peaceful, accenting the soft laughter of a shared moment, not overpowering or drowning it out.

A flicker of light reached his eyes from the grey depths of fog. Picturing clear, sparkling water flowing over pure white marble, Michael heard just such a fountain in the distance.

Struggling its way from a pin's prick, the light grew. Burning its way through the fog, the flicker became a blinding flare of white. When it washed over Michael, the lingering pressure from the Hells fell away. Weightless, Michael now drifted into the light. Its flare faded from searing white into the warm glow of a large crystal chandelier hanging above him.

They stood in a room lined with books. The fog's once heavy blanket was now a thin trail of smoke, which Michael traced towards the bowl of a long ivory pipe. He could not smell any tobacco, but felt its sweet smell. It seemed more of a distant memory than an experience. It was a comfort; it reminded him of an old leather couch his grandfather kept in his study. The feeling put him immediately at ease. It filled him with a sense of pure love. Michael eyes grew wide as his gaze found the large hand the pipe sat in.

A throaty voice creaked, "Well, hello there."

Michael followed the hand up to the figure it was attached to. He wore flowing white robes and loomed over a desk. His free hand was leafing through the pages of a heavy leather bound text. He was visibly ancient, and did not appear frail in the slightest. A palpable air of timelessness, wisdom and knowledge emanated from him. The robed figure looked up from the book. His eyes were a brilliant luminescent emerald green. He said, "Back so soon?"

Michael, confused, looked at Azrael standing near two bright ivory marble fountains. Past her, there wa one distant, open doorway. It was the only way out of the room. The fountain's quiet gurgle was the only noise he could hear.

"Who?" Michael asked. "Azrael?"

"No, I meant you, Michael." The voice of the robed figure was soft, pleasant.

"Have I met you? I've been here before?"

The robed man returned to his book. Turning another page, he said, "Yes."

Michael's voice trembled, "I'm freaked out. Where the hell are we?"

"Quite the reverse actually," Azrael said, chuckling.

"Indeed," The hunched figure said, closing the tome. Rising from his chair, he floated above the white marble floor and placed the book carefully back on its shelf.

"Alright," Michael said, throwing up his hands. "I admit it! I'm blown away. I don't remember who either of you are. I don't know where I am. I accept this is how things are but it feels like I'm seeing all of this and each of you for the first time." Michael looked at Azrael and said, "You I saw, and I knew you though I didn't know how. I knew, I mean, I really knew. I had to talk to you. You were so beautiful and, and... I knew, but I don't, I don't..."