“What is this place?”

That was the question uttered into the After, when a soul finally arrived.

The After came to answer.

Sparks of light and waves of energy condensed, coiled into a mass, and bent down to meet the newcomer at eye-level.

This, is where all things come past their end,

it spoke.

The Newcomer could only stare as the After shifted with every tone of its voice.

And it was no voice at all—closer to pure intent being focused into his mind to be understood.

And yet the Newcomer held the courage to continue. “All things? Everything? Everything that lived?”

Everything.

The After reared its ‘head’, looking past the Newcomer to the field behind him.

Glimpses passed in and out of view; flashes of forests in a rainbow of colors; animals from different threads of evolution hunting and grazing together; people gathered, alone, traveling, resting.

Everything.

Everything that has ever borne the spark of life comes here,

the After went on.

Here, they may rest. Here, they may let go of their worldly duties, or continue them for their enjoyment.

The Newcomer could only watch as the After continued its display, flickering between so many examples that he had never seen before. So much life he never knew, never conceived of.

So much alien wonder, all shown as if it were miniscule.

The Newcomer clenched his fists and let his feathers ruffle, spirit or not. “And why? What purpose is there in keeping them all here?”

The display stopped.

The After's condensed form lowered down, dangerously close to the Newcomer's beak.

We are the Keeper of Souls,

it rumbled, imposing every word in his mind.

This is no prison. This is a place of memory. The first lives in the first cycle made Us with their will. And so, We remember every life. We remember every soul that We have made, and every soul that has made Us.

If those who have passed in this cycle wish to return, they are free to do so. But nothing truly returns to life, once it has returned to Us. And here, they survive the end of their cycles.

The Newcomer stepped back and bowed his head in apology, letting his irritation fade.

The Keeper pulled back, lightening its impression.

You are forgiven. We take Our duty and Our memory with the utmost care. It is what We owe for all that is given to Us.

At that, the Newcomer tilted his head, feathers splayed in confusion. “Give… to you?” he asked. “By your own word, you give us our souls. What could we give you?”

Existence

The Keeper mimicked the Newcomer’s confused tilt, sparks of light flickering in an emulation of a blink.

So, too, did We say that Our existence was made from the first cycle. Their belief and force of will spawned Us. Now, We enforce your existence with pieces of Ourself, and you enforce Ours with your belief in Our power.

More than that, however, you bring your own memory, when you return.

The Keeper tilted the other way, scanning over their guest.

You were formed with Our gift, yes. But, more than Our fragment, you are Bra'khel Truvan, of the planet Feltra, of the twin Nolumn stars. Of soul and stardust, you are, and so did you rise to meet that heritage; first as a pilot, then a captain. One of the first of your people to visit another planet.

The Newcomer, known and named, could only look up at the Keeper in awe. Long did Bra'khel stare at the mass of soul and light, soaking in the weight of their presence. “You know all of that?” His voice came out, not loud and proud, not bellowing and angry; but soft, disbelieving.

We know all of Our fragments, Little One,

The Keeper replied, not unkind.

Every point of light deserves to be remembered.

Bra'khel bowed his head and splayed his crest of feathers in acceptance. “You said I may return to my world if I wished?”

A touch of amusement and warmth washed over Bra'khel's mind, and the coalescence the Keeper had collected unwound, fading back into the After.

Always. Do not worry about travel. You are a being of will alone now. All you need is the desire to go there.

Bra'khel looked down at his forearms and flexed his feathers.

The last any of his people had flown was centuries ago, when the last of their ancestors died out.

And in the After, one lively spark flew up, back to where it came from.

_{Written January 23, 2024}