I have not been alive for all that much longer than my past life, I remember I was young when I died.  Though I don’t really remember how I died, I remember I was young, my older brother was around fifteen, so I think I was maybe six or so? Younger? They always told me I was one of the youngest in the group.  I sure do miss them; I think of them a lot.  I know I shouldn’t, that was a whole life ago, I’m not even in the same world as them anymore.  I just hope they are ok.

I just keep reminding myself of what the goddess told me and have been living every day to my fullest.  I haven’t seen her since that day, I hope she’s doing ok.  Of course she’s ok, she’s a god, isn’t she?

In the heavenly realm.

The man at the head of the table lets out a long loud sigh.  “What have you done Isabella?” Isabella, the goddess who had reincarnated Christopher, sits at the end of the table, her actions have clearly bothered the counsel of gods.  “Why is it, you felt this was a good idea?” “You know we are not permitted to act on our own, let alone intervene in the natural cycle of life and death?”

Isabelle raises her head to speak but is cut off.  “Please your grace, have mercy!” Shouts the messenger beside her.  “The boy, the boy was in so much pain, he suffered for so much in such a short life!”

“Silence!” shouts the head.  “How dare you, a messenger!” “How dare you speak!” The table is in a huff, that a mere messenger, someone who normally wouldn’t be allowed in these chambers had spoken.  The chamber of the tribune counsel, the meeting place of the high gods, a sacred chamber, one whose entry in restricted to others under normal circumstances. 

“Forgive me.” Bows the messenger.

“Enough of this.” Demands Isabella; “I made a decision, one, where I knew it would cause this trouble.” “However, I have already acted, the matters that took place five years ago has already taken root.” “The boy, Christopher, is already ingrained in the world I sent him to, he has a life, his body flows with mana.”

“That’s precisely the problem!” Shouts the head.  “Your actions against the flow of life will certainly have ripple effects, the worlds are not designed to take on such change!” He shouts again.

“Listen.” “These worlds we created?” “How are they doing?” Isabella asks.

“Look here.” She gestures to the middle of the room, bringing up from the floor, the oracle device.  The same images as the messenger had seen display themselves.  Worlds burning, drowning, being crushed under the weight of chaos and greed.  “What do you see?” She asks.

The room grows silent, dead quite takes over, robbing the gods of any rebuttal.  Any hope of argument being stolen from their tongues.  “Every, single, world, doomed from the start.

“Is our lack of intervention really that good of a policy?” “Are we even gods?” “The worlds, the people, who we are responsible for, me included, are we not doing them a disservice by not intervening?”             

“You say this”; says the head god.  “But what good is one boy?” “You expect this child, this human, to be able to stop the coming cataclysm?” A valid point, what could one single child do in the face of oblivion? One of the last words, the world Christopher resides in too, is doomed. 

“What is so different about this boy, that he could stop the same tragedies that are eventually going to befall that world as well?” Says Sequin, the god of land and nature. 

“What have every world till this moment lacked?” asks Isabella. 

No response can be heard in the chamber, as gods they sure do not know a whole lot.  “Heart.” She says.  “No world has had heart, but not only that.” “We have been silent, silent for far too long. It’s no wonder the worlds are doomed, we have done nothing, ever, we have never lifted a finger, just quoted old rules made by the pride of our younger selves.” “We thought, with enough building, and magic, and a whole host of other things, that these worlds would simply thrive.’’  “If they didn’t then it was not the fault of ourselves but the fault of the people in that world.”

“This is untrue, it is our fault, ours!” “Look!” she shouts. “Look at the worlds we built! Look at the death the decay, the chaos and destruction!” “Do you not see?”  “All our worlds! They always decay into nothing, killing everything!” “I have had enough. Watching these worlds crumble/” “I’ve had enough, of hearing the cries of the souls tormented and suffering!”

“That boy, he was the last straw. I could not do it anymore.” “He was four years old! Four!” In an eruption of emotion, the goddess explodes the orb, shattering it into dust that fills the chamber.  “Look at his life! Look at his end!” The images flood the chamber, the images of the boys suffering, his pain and his hunger, and ultimately his death.  “Is this a world we can be proud of!?” She screams. 

The gods, all six of them, are flooded with images of the boy’s horrific death, his resting place in the cities disgusting dumpster.  It’s enough to make them sick to their stomachs, how could such violence be allowed? They began to think to themselves.  How could we allow such suffering? How could we allow such youth to be snuffed.  The gods knew in their hearts, that this vile act and the many that came before this was their own doing.  By not intervening in the world, protecting them, safeguarding them, they knew this was a direct response to their inability.

The dust dissipates, and the images vanish with it.  Leaving the gods in a state of panic.  “What have we done” asks Ivantis, the god of commerce.  “This cannot be.” Shouts Atrius god of love, with tears running down his face.  The room is in a panicked state of questions and disbelief.  They knew this was happening, why didn’t they do anything? Did they shut off their hearts to it? Pretend everything was, ok? How could, we the gods, have allowed such chaos?

Isabella sits back down in her chair, content with the emotional turmoil that filled the surrounding gods.  As the god of life and death she always had a firsthand look at all the deaths of the suffering, the screams that would fill her heart.  She sat by and did her job according to the laws, but no more would she suffer these screams, she would be the change that restarts the heavens.

“Even now, the screams, the turmoil, they fill my heart, as more and more worlds have died during this very meeting.” “I’m making a change, will you all work with me?” “We should, as gods, be behind one another.” Says Isabella.

They shoot looks at one another in a rush, and all nod. “Yes” A unanimous vote.  “Good, it all starts with Christopher.  We will no longer be bystanders to the world we created.”  “We will commune with him and guide him towards our goal.” 

“It starts today.”

Christopher takes in the world around him, his peaceful town behind him, and the vast open world in front of him.  Lush greenery and vibrant flowers, the trees, like he’s never seen before, stand tall and proud.

The sweet smells of the grass and flowers flood his senses as he reminisces on his new memories of his family. His loving and strong father, a fighter, and a soldier, a knight for the kings guard here in town.  His beautiful mother bakes her own bread, takes care of him, gives him warm baths.  A truly beautiful life.

His father is a high-ranking knight, a noble, while they don’t live in a castle or mansion, they have a lovely home.  He works tirelessly to make money for the family, even though he already has enough money to support them for years to come, he always looks ahead, never wavering.  He has many friends too, everyone around town knows him, he’s somewhat of the local hero.  Back way before I was even thought of, he single handedly protected this village from a huge swarm of magical beasts. 

Though not very common now a days, there used to be beasts roaming the countryside and they often attacked towns and villages. 

It’s a story of incredible heroism, the guards braced the gate, ensuring the beasts would never break through.  The onslaught of them all, however, was enough, and they ended up breaking through the gate.  I remember my father and mother telling me this story a lot, when they broke through, they began to attack stalls and homes.  The knights had already evacuated everyone close to that area, but there were stragglers.  My mother of all people being on of them.  It’s the tale of how they met each other and fell in love. 

 As the monsters poured through the broken gate destroying the homes and stalls, a beam from one of the homes fell on my mother, locking her down with her leg.  Unable to move and screaming in fear.  The knights, they fought with ferocity, this was their home, they would be damned if they let a bunch of filthy monsters destroy their home.  Although dedicated, the sheer number of monsters outnumbered the knights fifty to twenty.  My father, hearing her screams ran over to her, gripping the beam to free her, he said he never ran so fast or lifted something so heavy before in his life, but her face, it was something he knew instinctively, he said.  He knew he had to protect her.  He picked her up and wrapped himself around her to comfort her, he was something out of a love story my mom would say, the knight and the damsel.  He hid her behind her, ferocity on his face, he said it was so ferocious that it scared the monsters! As the knights fell, one by one, eventually it was just my father and mother.  He rushed the monsters yelling a bloodcurdling shout that is said to have made the birds fall from the sky.

With every swing of his blade a monster would fall, one after another.  They, as he said, were an even match against him, but they needed more if they hoped to survive against him.  He swung his sword with such accurate ferocity, that soon the beasts were either gone from fleeing or cut to pieces by his blade.  That tattered and chipped blade hangs above of fireplace at home.

Covered in wounds and beast blood, he walks over to my mother and says, “You’re safe now.”  My mother says she was a loss for words, this hunky man covered in beast blood, tattered wounds, and chipped armor.  She fell for him right there in the street.

They got married a couple days later. 

My family is amazing.  I live in such a nice town; I have never experienced such love before.  As Christopher stands there recreating the story his parents told him, he begins to feel extremely tired.  Sweat formed on his brow, and his vision blurred.

Slipping into a dream state, he finds himself in a huge room, clad in gold and white.  The room seemed endless, and vast.  Before him sat a table, golden and red, and massive golden chairs.  “Welcome Christopher.” Says a sweet voice from behind him; “god” He says meekly.

She picks him up from under his shoulders from behind, the table shifts and contorts around them, as she sits down with him on her lap.  Isabella had called him from the dream state, they sit together now at the table, around is the rest of the high counsel of gods.  The head god, Atrius, Ivantis and two others.  “Have I died again?”

She lets out a warm laugh, “No.no.no you are still very much alive, your still down there in the field, see?” She shows him on the oracle sphere, his body laying in the tall grass peacefully asleep.  “We brought you here to speak to you Christopher.”