“The ghost is looking better. Can you feel a difference?” Cass asked.
Kushiel took a breath, glad Cass wasn’t upset with his lack of human manners. “Yes, it does feel lighter, although it’s hard to be sure without being able to see or hear it.”
“It still isn’t talking,” Cass replied. “But I do have some questions, if that’s ok.”
Kushiel steeled himself for some uncomfortable queries about his appearance, but Cass didn’t ask about that.
“Tell me about your job,” Cass said, surprising Kushiel.
He felt himself relax. That was easy enough.
“Of course. Well, some of the souls in Limbo don’t feel ready to go to heaven. They feel guilt or shame over their actions on earth, whether they ought to or not. They need to work through those things before they can move on. I help them do that,” Kushiel shrugged. “I’m like an afterlife therapist,” he added, chuckling. He did often feel that way when he was in Limbo.
Cass looked thoughtful, and then he asked, “That isn’t all there is to it, though, is there?”
Kushiel felt uncomfortable. He didn’t like talking about this part of his job, but he wouldn’t hide it from Cassius. That just felt wrong.
“No, sometimes they require mortification of the flesh, or physical punishments,” Kushiel answered hesitantly, waiting to see Cass’s reaction, but the human only waited patiently, staring at Kushiel. “I don’t enjoy causing pain, but I do what’s necessary to help them move on, and sometimes they need to feel their emotional pain in a physical manner,” he added.
The memory popped into his head of the last time he had punished someone in Limbo. The man had been dealing with such guilt, and he had demanded flagellation. He had chosena whip, and Kushiel remembered vividly the feeling of the lash cutting into his skin—the bright flash of pain, followed by the sting and heat.
He had borne those marks afterwards for days, although he could have healed them. To heal them felt like cheating, though. If a soul in his care suffered, then so did he. He could not ask of others what he could not bear himself; it was not his way.
Kushiel came back to himself, and Cass was looking at him strangely, almost like the man could see his very thoughts. Kushiel looked down, feeling foolish for getting lost in memories. He rarely thought of the punishments he inflicted; it was far easier not to remember such things.
“It hurts you too, doesn’t it?” Cass asked softly.
Kushiel looked up, shocked at the question. No one had ever thought to ask him such a thing. Cass was staring at him calmly, however, waiting for his answer.
“A price must be paid, and I will help pay if I can. It is my job,” Kushiel answered.
Cass continued to look at him, and Kushiel had to make the effort not to fidget. It was like the human was looking inside him, and it was disconcerting. He knew he was… tarnished. He didn’t wish others to see it as well, but he felt like he could hide nothing from Cassius.
“What about the souls on Erebus?” Cass asked gently.
“Ah. Yes. The ones that are lost. They are not evil, you know. They made mistakes, sometimes horrible ones, in their mortal life. But there is light within them still. By the time they reach Erebus, they are beyond even knowing what they have done. They are a bundle of guilt, shame, and grief, but they do not know why. It is my job to help them break through the darkness, to help their light grow. Eventually, with enough time, they will reach a balance between the darkness and the light, and then they are ready for reincarnation. Sometimes it takes decadesor even centuries, but I have sent many souls on,” Kushiel answered.
“That must be amazing, to see them have a new chance at life,” Cass ventured.
“It is. It is a gift,” Kushiel agreed, feeling joyful that Cass recognized it that way. “Many angels and demons don’t understand how important it is, how each soul has worth and deserves a chance.”
Cass smiled softly, and he slid his hand forward, almost like he was going to touch Kushiel, but he stopped before he reached him. Kushiel fought off his disappointment. Of course, he had flinched from Cass last time, so it reasoned that the man would not touch him. Cass was too kind to make someone uncomfortable.
“Kushiel,” Cass murmured, drawing Kushiel’s attention away from their hands, so close but not touching, and back up to Cass’s face. “How do you help the souls in Erebus?”
Kushiel did not want to answer the question, but Cass was helping him, and Kushiel had no idea what information would be helpful and what wouldn’t.
“I… Well, I nurture them. I sit with them, and I support them.” Kushiel paused, knowing he wasn’t being specific enough. Finally, he admitted, “I give them some of my light and take some of their darkness. I take the pain they are willing to part with and leave hope in its place.”
Kushiel expected disgust. His soul was darkened, after all, as was evidenced by his outward appearance. Yet Cass nodded his head, like he had expected that response, and then the man walked over and started cleaning up the breakfast dishes.
It was baffling.
Kushiel opened his mouth, unsure what he was going to say, then closed it again. Perhaps Cass didn’t understand.
“I am… tainted,” Kushiel finally admitted.
Cass wheeled around at Kushiel’s words. He had a fork in his hand, and he pointed it at Kushiel. Kushiel had a flash of regret, but perhaps it was for the best if Cass knew exactly who he was dealing with.
