“Are you—are you sure? Won’t Lord Aita—”

“Aita knows better than to meddle in my business,” interrupted Andrew with a sardonic smirk. “Besides, despite my multiple charms, I don’t get many guests for tea time, you know? He’ll be safe here. We’ll all be. And I’m hardly ever around anyway, so no need to knock on the door. Just make sure nobody sees you in or out, and—what?”

I was staring at him, completely dumbfounded.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked, wholeheartedly. “Please don’t get me wrong, I’m forever in your debt, Elder. I know you have an interest in this, but going to such lengths to—”

“We freaks of nature have to stick together,” interjected Andrew with a wink. “I have a feeling we both have a lot to learn from this little fucker here, and I’m hardly ever wrong when it comes to anomalies. When Aita asked me to check your profile 200 years ago, just before appointing you as Ankou, I knew right away that you were a nutcase, but I kept quiet. Make it worth my while, will ya?”

He laughed out loud at my astonished expression.

“The stasis unit is upstairs, second floor, third door to the right. Take your time. I gotta go anyway, there’s an Artisans’ council meeting today,” he sighed, irritated. “I wish I could put myself into stasis. See ya!”

Without another word, he strolled out and slammed the door. I stayed still, speechless, for a long moment. Then I sighed in relief and turned to face Gabriel.

“Are you alright? I know you must be so confused. I apologize. You shouldn’t have heard all that to begin with.”

Gabriel managed to give me a dozy smile. I swear I could have melted under my feathers.

Sleep?

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It won’t hurt, I promise. You’ll be safe here. And I’ll come to check on you as often as I can.”

Sleep. Tired.

I smiled, sadly. It made sense, him being exhausted. After a lifetime of hardships and death itself, that remarkable creature had gone through a rollercoaster of unusual experiences in just a couple of human hours, and souls are considerably weakened after the silver thread is cut. Maybe stasis was exactly what we both needed right then.

“Come on,” I said, as sweetly as my newfound voice would allow me, “I’ll take you to rest.”

I grabbed Gabriel’s hand and guided him upstairs, following Andrew’s directions. The storage room was relatively neat in comparison to the main workshop. At least it was possible to walk without hitting objects and toys. The ceiling was covered in colored pieces of glass and crystals that dimly reflected the light in all directions. In one corner of the room, right next to a wide window, the stasis glass box stood alone, surrounded by exotic plants and a collection of wooden figurines of strange animals I had never seen before.

Gabriel looked around in awe, painfully squinting his eyes to see better. I noticed, checked outside of the window to make sure there were no prying eyes, and walked back to him.

“Do you maybe want to—uhm, take a better look? Before going to sleep, that is?”

Gabriel nodded instantly. I hesitated, strangely self-aware of my looks. I opened the lower jaw of my hummingbird skull helmet as much as I could, wishing for the first time I had been more thoughtful about the design flaws of my Otherworld shape.

“Listen. I might look…well, scary. But please don’t be afraid. It’s just like…a costume. I won’t hurt you.”

Gabriel nodded again, tilting his head a bit. He seemed expectant.

I took a deep breath and covered his eyes with my claw. A bright turquoise glow shone under my feathers as I temporarily erased the Veil over his eyesight. After a few seconds, I removed my claw and took a few steps back, painfully aware of how nervous I must have looked.

Gabriel rubbed his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked up.

I held my breath as a pair of clear green eyes examined me up and down.

Bird.

Gabriel smiled. I smiled back, a bit flustered by my own relief. I patiently waited for him to check the room as he pleased. He had obviously never seen so many strange things before during his simple life as a farmer. He examined the toys, touched the plants, lost himself for a while in the reflections of the ceiling crystals. And then, finally, he spotted the stasis box. He was instantly fascinated by it. The box glowed faintly with a warm, welcoming white interior that seemed to have no end.

I stood next to him. I felt an overwhelming wave of sadness, but I chose to ignore it. I could dwell on the complexities of these newfound feelings later. Now I had to focus.

“Well, friend, it’s time to rest,” I said in a soft voice. “You need to get in there, and I’ll help you doze off. Are you ready?”

Gabriel nodded, still fixated in the never-ending fluffy cloud that swirled lazily in the interior of the box. He moved forward to get in.

“Wait!”

I was stunned by my own voice. I had spoken without thinking, without noticing it. Sorrow was choking me. Trying to speak in sounds hurt in the strangest way.

Gabriel turned, startled, and met my eyes. My words lingered.

“Your name,” I blurted at last. “I don’t know your name.”

The soul seemed confused. He looked down and struggled for a bit. It was hard for souls to remember things by themselves; everything faded into a messy mist of flashes and noises after death. All of a sudden, he raised his head and smiled widely at me.

Gabriel.

“Gabriel,” I repeated, delighted. He nodded, beaming. His green eyes reflected the white glow of the stasis box and looked almost transparent. I noticed for the first time that there was a certain sweetness in his stern features. He was young, very young. Probably not far from his early twenties. It made his death an early death, and the whole goodbye a whole deal more bittersweet.

“Rest well,” I managed to say, biting back a strange emotion. “See you soon, Gabriel.”

I took a step back and watched Gabriel enter the stasis box. I didn’t want to close the glass before he had fallen asleep, so I waited patiently until the calming glow fused with his soul, nursing him into a peaceful slumber that would last four centuries.

Once he closed the glass box, I took a few steps back and just…stayed there.

I felt empty.

In a way, I was glad that Gabriel would sleep for 400 years. I was certain I would need at least a century or so myself to process everything that had happened in the last couple of hours.

I didn’t want to leave Gabriel there, all alone, in Andrew’s domain, but I understood that it was the safest place. I spontaneously decided that I would visit every day. Despite all his help, I just couldn’t trust the Artisan yet. I was very well acquainted with the unpredictable and rather dangerous nature of his curiosity.

Andrew had cryptically told me to use my time wisely and get ready. Ready for what? What did I need to prepare for, and how?

After one last long look at the stasis box, I walked out, determined to figure it out.