Imperial (Insight #8)(2)

“Hard to forget your name, pretty lady,” Cowboy said as his aged sky blue eyes slanted at me and he tipped his overgrown tan cowboy hat. I was pretty sure I knew what century he died in, along with what dimension.

Time is funny. It loops. So at any moment, a soul from each century, each dimension would be in the procession. It was a glorious history lesson. Interesting the first time around. The thousandth, it became a bit of a bore.

I’d learned to alter my words with each soul I bothered to speak to. That act had given me a well-rounded range of slang words to use, to say the least.

The Cowboy’s eyes were trained on the procession below. Most of the souls in line tonight were soldiers. My guess, they were from the Twenty-First Century, far ahead of my cowboy friend’s time. It wasn’t odd to see soldiers before the Reaper. Soldiers took the meaning ‘no man left behind’ quite literally. Each was vanishing into light as they approached the throne. The Reaper graciously assured them their path was complete with a nod of appreciation.

“Looking for someone?” I mused.

“Perhaps.”

“These souls are not from your time, Cowboy.”

“Oh, sweet lady, I’m aware. I’m in waiting.”

“Special girl,” I assumed.

“What lady would not be?” he offered with a wink. “Just looking for an old friend I made a promise to.”

“You do realize they could have moved on?”

“Not my first walk into the sunset. We agreed to meet at this point in her existence.”

“Some promises are forgotten within the dance of life,” I grimly offered, knowing all too well how true those words were.

“No man of worth would have forgotten you, Glory. I swear to that.”

I grinned, wishing I were what he assumed I was: a pure soul.

“Tell me. Are there no children?” he asked as his eyes moved through the procession.

I offered him a humble glance before I spoke. “We are all children.” I let my words settle for a moment. “The young question everything, with the exception of thine own heart. They always go with their guides. Well guarded. Cherished and protected each step of the way.”

“Good to know,” he responded with a sense of relief, letting me know he was pleased not to see any young before him on this night or any other.

Mazing manifested at my other side at that moment. She was dressed as I was, tight dark jeans, tall boots, a leather corset and a dark jacket. It was a universal outfit. The dead do not care much for changing their attire, I’ll grant you that, but all we had to do to become more formal was shed the jacket and wrap a long skirt around our waist. Warrior to lady in under a second.

Mazing looked like most of my line. Auburn hair and eyes that held the color with a hint of gold, pure skin that would glow when we were appeased.

Always wanting to be different, Mazing had thick streaks of blonde racing through her long, thin dreads. I could never figure out why she liked that style. It was too constricting for me.

“Lordy, now the second hymn has arrived,” Cowboy said to her.

Ah, so that was how he was remembering our names, through association. He wasn’t far off the mark with Mazing. Her real name eons ago was Gracelend. I suppose the family she had before my line claimed her and added ‘Amazing’ as a nickname. Had to do with a song the Cowboy was obviously familiar with. I’d always called her Mazing, and so had everyone within our line.

‘Glory Glory Hallelujah’ was some song he had sung to me not long after I met him. Smart man. That is, if he was trying to change his address to the Veil. It was better to forget. Let this place be a dream.

Mazing offered him a nod, then glanced at me. “You feel the air?”

“I do.”

From her tight leather jacket, Mazing pulled out a velvet pouch and offered me the salt within it. I took a handful and slowly rubbed it across my hands, feeling chunks of it settling in each crease and behind each nail.

“Oh, ladies, trust me, you do not need sugar to draw any soul to the likes of either of you. Sisters, is that what you are?” Cowboy said with a puff on his pipe.

“What a charmer you are,” Mazing said with a wink, blatantly not answering his question, simply because it would confuse the old man.

Mazing was in a sense a child of mine, even though I had never carried a soul within my vessel. Never would.

I’m a sovereign. An original Escort of dark energy. When my energy is magnified, or should I say was magnified, it absorbs into the cosmos, and that energy is infused with souls that felt called to it. Sometime in their first life, their dreams call to me. That is when I pull them into my line. Mazing was the first. There were more than I could count after her, but she is one of only a few souls I’ve let get close to me. She was my first in command, closer than any sister, child, or best friend as far as I’m concerned. Proving that had landed us both here.

The cowboy opened his duster to reveal a set of steel guns. “I’m always up for defending a damsel in need.”

I smirked. “Not sure those weapons will do you much good here, Cowboy.”

“Thought I’d offer,” he said with a wink and another pull on his pipe.

I caught a glance from the Reaper. His eyes had the appearance of near pure light and appraised me as he offered a nod. He’d felt the pull in the air as well and was bidding us a good hunt.