As salty waves march along the mortal shores, the remnants of our lives touch the realm of angels. Azrael takes us back into his house, scooping up the silt of our lives and carrying them to safety. No matter how long we leave him, he'll patiently wait for our return. Look out to the horizon far enough and you'll see. You are on your way home.
I watched as the clouds poured forth from the mouth of the opening. The sky on the other side leaked through to flow down into the valley below, filling nothing of the infinite void that waited below it. Compared to this great emptiness, the stream might as well have been fed through the eye of a needle, for it accomplished the same. Even so, it regarded the world openly and boldly.
Beyond its arches, the great Seraphim Sahaqiel reclined.
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