A Life, Unforgotten

...Is Never...

The spirit didn't understand what was going on, why everything had turned white after he had thanked Bill for telling the truth at last. It was the way to get him to feel less like he was broken. It was as if he had been handed the last part of himself, as if that was all it took to be completed. A few simple words. That's surely something impressive according to a number of people, right?

...Right?

He didn't think he would ever get an answer on that. It's faintly clicking now, he'd died. For a second time? It's what it seemed like, and even so, this place was familiar – a tree with dozens of strips of cloth tied to its branches. There weren't any leaves but the cloth made it seem less barren. He didn't need to think much, he simply took the proper steps to walk up and press his hand to the trunk of the tree, cobalt eyes closing for a moment. It was warm. Full of wonderful life, and it made him smile a little. Until he realised he actually was growing warmer as the seconds passed by – when was the last time he gave off his own warmth? He wasn't sure but it felt like it, and it was impressive. If not startling.

Until he felt a hand on his shoulder, though it bled warmth into his skin and had him relax, particularly when whomever it was gave him a full and kind embrace, letting him lean back slightly. It felt like home, like the mother's embrace he never had, like the lover's embrace he would now miss. It was melancholy that took hold of him as he tilted his head back slightly.

Cobalt eyes widened as they stared into the face of Her, the night goddess, the one he truly did believe in. He gave a halted gasp, he's beyond shaken at seeing eyes like the full moon and hair like the night sky devoid of stars, oh it was something to be seen. He would remember Her face. He knew it. He's seen it before. He didn't say a word, She spoke without speaking, and the smile on Her face was so welcoming, so enticing. It had him relax more, though Her voice uttered a question, a Choice. It had him listen carefully. Though he didn't expect the Choice.

Stay with Her in the garden of the afterlife, or go back. Follow Her voice, Her guidance, Her words, return as a guardian and continue the life he'd made for himself in his afterlife; only when the time comes would he be allowed to return and rest in the garden.

Light had to choose – between this resting place for eternity, forever with the Goddess that he knew would care for him properly, or to go back. To those he loved, those he would miss, those he had that cared for him and gave him a new life despite his past, or lack thereof.

He was genuinely having a tough time deciding, and the Goddess's voice flowed like moonlight through his mind, only further allowing him to relax into Her embrace. It was a gentle reminder that he needed to make this decision swiftly, that time in this realm does not pass the same as it does where he came from. It was supposedly already several days since he'd dissolved into bubbles of light in front of his own loved ones. His brows knitted together, cobalt eyes flickering over the small bridge by the tree, he could almost see the other side of it, and while he was curious, he'd... he wouldn't be happy there. He knows he wouldn't. Hence he'd given the Goddess's arms a gentle squeeze, even turning around to give Her the full embrace She truly deserved. She knew his decision in an instant, and She'd coaxed Her fingers through his hair before She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

Heat spread and blossomed there, a pinkish hue taking to his skin as his heart roared to life for the first time in four years, he felt fire running through his veins and his eyes were closed, in awe, as a bubbly feeling took over his limbs, the feeling of bubbles gently bursting on his skin back as once again he was blotted out of existence, the last thing he would see being Her kindred smile and Her voice wishing him luck. It was stunning. And it stayed close in his memory, particularly as a new emotion, one he really never felt in his life before or after his first death; he felt joy.

Even as something made of nothing of light he could feel the emotion, feel his approximation of a body well with tears until the light could emit a laughter unlike anything else, true joy. Oh, how marvellous it was – it was like hearing a child's first delighted laugh. Unadulterated, unharmed by the true hells of the Earth.

And he truly was whole.