Isobel

III: Gaea

The room was silent, a pin could drop and it would echo across the room. The large window that illuminated the room with the evening stars slowly showered the room with soft rays. The two angels locked eyes for a long time, before Archangel Michael collected himself and walked closer to Isobel.

"Gaea..." Isobel thoughtfully muttered under her breath. Her mind played the images of her picturesque world, her family's field back in the Fields of Alithea, and her life before her body's death and soul's reformation. All these images flashed in her head before she could continue her thoughts.

Archangel Michael could see the conflict brewing in Isobel's eyes. The memories of her past life are coming back, as expected from the reformation.

"Gaea is dead." Isobel resolutely says. Her mind sends images of the fields dying, the people crying and praying for help that never came, and the final apocalypse the seers of their world have spoken about. "You never came."

Archangel Michael shook his head mournfully. "We learnt of its destruction too late."

Surprisingly, Isobel just shook her head too, and looked straight into the sturdy eyes of the archangel before her. "It does not change anything. Gaea is dead, and it will remain a destroyed world." Isobel sighs before continuing. "All is left is my memories of it."

"I apologize for distressing you, Angel Isobel." Archangel Michael said before clearing his throat after a short silence. "I have been assigned by the High Seraphim to investigate its destruction. He has told me to... question you about it."

Isobel looked up from the floor to the archangel. "I understand." She said after a few moments. "I will do my best to contribute my knowledge to the investigation."

Archangel Michael nodded and slowly gestured to leave. "I will contact you soon."

"Yes sire." Isobel respectfully answered. She escorted the archangel out her room, and she closed the door behind him. She slowly sank to sit on the floor, mourning her lost world for the first time since her reformation.

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The evening stars fade, and the celestials depart from their hall to guide the morning stars back into the skies of the realm. Isobel just stares at the view from the window she's been staring at for a whole night.

Her wings are stiff from a night without rest. Isobel flew from the end of her room to the other, similar to pacing, but with flight. She ponders deeply as her mind still continues to show her images of her life before being an angel.

The morning star, Sol, stood proudly in the skies of our field. There were no clouds today even if the skies poured their tears all evening. The farmers were already positioned in their fields, happily harvesting the fruit of their labor. Today is Tribuisti de Colleita, the festival of harvest, a long awaited celebration among her people.

"My lady! The children are awaiting you in the gardens!" one of the servants of the estate alerted me. Isobel looked ahead and saw the garden sitting ethereally in the middle of the fields of different crops. As she walked past the fields, the farmers wave cheerfully before returning to their harvest.

The children, like the servant said, were waiting in the gardens. Most of them were playing with plants and flowers that they picked up on their way to the fields. Their parents were quickly sowing through the fields and spreading their harvest for the festival in the large table that was in the middle of the garden.