"Valysium" | a short story by rareraconteur

"Valysium"

Author's Note

Before we begin, I created a playlist to go along with this story. I highly recommend listening to it while you read; the Spotify name is rareraconteur, and the playlist is called "Valysium". Prepare for an 80s-disco-pop-classical-fever dream

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"Valysium"

"Astraea, are you sure of this?"

"Yes, Forseti, now please leave me be. I do not want you here when she arrives."

"She is not even a warrior!" Astraea, a woman of tall stature with long, gentle brown hair turned sharply to Forseti.

"She is," Astraea rejected the other woman's argument. "Did you not see how valiantly she fought on earth? She is certainly a warrior, my dear Forseti."

"She was a mercenary." The brunette sighed. She knew Forseti would react this way. "What would Lady say?"

"Lady would call her a commendable warrior, and she would be accepted readily into Valysium," Astraea responded easily.

"You are not thinking properly," Forseti told her, "this is a heaven for warriors, and we are its wardens. We can not allow every person who puts up a fight into this place, Astraea!" But the brunette simply shook her head and turned her back to Forseti. She clasped her hands in front of her and waited patiently before the golden gates opening onto the courtyards of Valysium. Astraea heard her friend sigh before the gentle sound of her footsteps retreating. She smiled and rolled her shoulders back confidently. This was her choice. As a goddess of Valysium, this was her choice.

Not moments later, the ground shook gently beneath Astraea's feet. She looked up and moved quickly forward, her white robes swooshing quietly along the glowing tile. The gates emitted a short groan before they began to open slowly outward. Over the horizon light years away came a figure mounted atop a silver steed that traveled faster than its rider could perceive had she even been conscious. In seconds the horse was whinnying for Astraea, and she ran a slender hand down its forehead. The rider sat firmly on the horse's unsaddled back; her head hung down and her fingers curled loosely into the creature's mane.

"Þakka eseís, amicus," Astraea whispered. Thank you, friend. The steed snorted, and the goddess gently took the woman from his back into her arms. She turned, and appeared in the grand hall of Valysium. Astraea took confident steps across the floor of pale, ancient wood. Without her bidding the massive golden doors ahead of the goddess opened. She crossed the threshold and approached the large marble table at the center of the temple.

Astraea carried the woman to the table and carefully laid her out on it. She stood at one end of the woman and placed her fingers on the woman's hijab-clad temples. The goddess suddenly stared blankly across the room, and her eyes filled with hazy white tendrils. The dead woman's memories were returning to her. Ana Bhatia, that was her name. Of course. Astraea pressed her hands harder onto Ana's temples, and her eyelids began to flutter. Then, in one split second Astraea gasped and Ana shot up to sit. She heaved for breath, pressing a hand to her chest and squirming around to examine her surroundings. The only sound in the temple was the Bhatia's leather jacket squeaking.

"Oh my--!" The woman jumped upon seeing the goddess. "Who are you?" she exclaimed, "Where am I?"

Astraea put her hands out, palms up, in a hope to silently qualm the woman's fears. "You are in Valysium," she explained in the gentle tone she always used with those who had just entered the Afterlife. "My name is Astraea."