Azra'il

 Critiques are welcomed and encouraged thank you for taking the time to read this story.

Azra’il looked at the list of souls he had to collect in the war-torn land of Valithorai. The list was as follows.

Salythara Firestone Elvin, female, age 22, Healer from the Valley of Peace, time of meeting 7:10 pm. Death by dragon fire.

Alistair Drakeblood Orc, Male, age 10, Child from Valithorai, time of meeting 7:10 pm Death by dragon fire.

Valdorai refugee camp

1417, 23rd of Thors month, 7:05 pm

Day 36,500 of the Hundred Years War.

"More mana, I need more mana. My healing is failing!" Salytharas's hand pressed down hard on the warrior's gaping wound in his chest. Warm blood flowed between her hands and the man's chest.

"There is no more mana; we're completely out, and no shipments have been able to make it through! Here, take what I have left!" Another healer tossed a small vial towards Salytahra. Plop. She gulped down what remained of the glowing sapphire liquid. Before she could stabilize the man, he gripped his hand tightly around her arm.

"Save..for..ch..for.chil." his hand loosened as his soul departed his body.

Warm rivers of sorrow began to flow down Salythar's face. So much Death, so much needless Death. Is this what the price of freedom costs for the oppressed? 

She couldn't stay still and mourn. She had to continue to the next person that needed her. The sounds of men, women, and children crying filled the tents. And the roar of a dragon in the distance sent a chill down her spine. No, no, it can't be that close. She felt a slight tug on her bloodied sleeve. 

"Please…my brother, he needs help." 

"Where's your brother, young one?" She looked around and didn't see anyone else

The boy silently showed her a bag he was carrying on his back. A dark leather bag filled with blood and the charred hand of a child sticking out from it.

Salthara suddenly felt weak, too weak to stand. "No, I can't. I have to remain strong."

"Here, let me take him." She took the bag from the boy and placed it gently down.

"I'm sorry…but..your brother is gone." She cupped the boy's face with one hand. This small orc child. People thought the Orcs of the Valithorai were bloody savages. This boy was pure innocence.

His pupils were large and wide with shock. The boy reached out and embraced Salthara. She held him tightly in the carnage that surrounded them. The screaming and crying of war died down at this moment.

"What's your name, sweet boy." She brushed the boy's hair out of his face and began healing a large gash on the side of his head.

Azra'il looked at the list of souls he had to collect in the war-torn land of Valithorai. The list was as follows.

Salythara Firestone Elvin, female, age 22, Healer from the Valley of Peace, time of meeting 7:30 pm. Death by dragon fire.

Alistor Drakeblood Orc, Male, age 10, Child from Valithorai, time of meeting 7:30 pm Death by dragon fire.

Valithorai refugee camp

1417, 23rd of Thors month, 7:00 pm

Day 36,500 of the Hundred Years War.

"More mana! I need more mana! My healing is failing!" Salytharas's hand pressed down hard on the warrior's gaping wound in his chest. Warm blood flowed between her fingers the harder she pressed.

"There is no more mana! We're completely out, and no shipments have been able to make it through! Here, take what I have left!" Another healer tossed a small vial towards Salytahra. Plop. She gulped down what remained of the glowing sapphire liquid. Before she could stabilize the man, he gripped his hand tightly around her arm.

"Save..for..ch..for.chil." his hand loosened as his soul departed his body.

Warm rivers of sorrow began to flow down Salytharas's face. So much Death, so much needless Death. Is this what the price of freedom costs for the oppressed? 

She couldn't stay still and mourn. She had to continue to the next person that needed her. The sounds of men, women, and children crying filled the tents. The smell of Death was mixed with the scent of musk. Strange that she smelled musk in such a sorrowful place.  

The ground quaked and shook from the roar of a dragon in the distance that sent a chill down her spine. No, no, it can't be that close. She felt a slight tug on her bloodied sleeve. 

"Please…my brother, he needs help." 

"Where's your brother, young one?" She looked around and didn't see anyone else

The boy silently showed her a bag he was carrying on his back. A dark leather bag filled with blood and the charred hand of a child sticking out from it.

Salythara suddenly felt weak, too weak to stand. No, I can't. I have to remain strong. She told herself.

"Here, let me take him." She took the bag from the boy and placed it gently down.

"I'm sorry…but..your brother is gone." She cupped the boy's face with one hand. This small orc child. People thought the Orcs of the Valithorai were bloody savages. While there were a few who were, the overwhelming majority weren't.

The boy's pupils were large and wide with shock. He reached out and embraced Salythara. She held him tightly in the carnage that surrounded them. The screaming and crying of war died down at this moment.

"What's your name, sweet boy." She brushed the boy's hair out of his face and began healing a large gash on the side of his head.

"Alistor.."

"I'm Salythara Alistor; let's find a tent to let you rest." She smiled

"What about my brother?" He looked at the bag at his feet.

"Well, bury him together later once we're out of the camp and on the move at dawn." Emerald lights left her fingertips as she healed the boy's head wound. A small web of energy slowly mending the boy's cut. The last of her mana spent she thought was well worth it.

"Can you stay with me…I don't want to be alone.." He reached for Salytharas's free hand and held it tightly. 

"Yes, I can stay with you. Do you have your parents?" She didn't want to ask this question, but she had to.

"Dragon fire…." Tears fell down the boy's face.

Salythara held the boy tight

"I won't leave you no matter what happens."

Azaraiel watched the scene before him, admired the woman's courage, and pitied the boy's tragic loss; he could not intervene, for these events were written before his existence. However, he could tell much about a person by how they acted in their final moments. These two he watched before him were expecting his presence at any moment. He followed closely behind the two as they walked back to a tent. They could not see him, for he existed on a plane the mortal eye and mind could not comprehend. Until Death has reached them, soon their suffering would end. And they'll forget about the pain that has transpired. 

In the distance, he could hear the roar of the dragon. "Every soul shall taste death." He told himself; he was close to Salytahra and the child, only inches away. Salythara stared at him while the boy lay down sleeping. She was crying, wanting this suffering and pain to end. "Soon, you will be in a garden of eternal bliss." He watched as the young elf wept, letting out all the pain she had felt and experienced during this war. She felt tired because the camp planned on moving the following day. She thought maybe she would try and get some rest. She turned and saw the Orc child sound asleep from exhaustion as well. He was holding the bag on the floor tight with one hand.

Again, the dragon's roar was heard; a strong wind was felt in the distance as the pegs holding the tent began to shift. It's not that close. It can't be. Alistor woke up startled and screaming.

“Noooo noooo the dragon the dragon!” He clamped his hands on his pointed ears and shut his eyes.

"It's okay, sweet boy. It's okay, don't worry." Salythara sat next to him and comforted him.

She thought back to her home in the Valley of Peace. The orchards are always in bloom, with luxury and prosperity that this side of the world had never experienced for millennia. She wished she hadn't taken it all for granted. She now realized and felt the ever-looming presence of Death as though the reaper Azra'il was following her.

Everything in the camp seemed to settle down; thunder could be heard in the distance. She thought this strange because there was no sign of storms. The wind began to pick up again, and the sounds of people running were slowly accompanied by screams. The dragon and its rider had come.

Salythara quickly grabbed the boy, leaving his brother's body.

"Wait, my brother!!" He screamed and reached an arm out

"No time. I'm sorry, the Dragons coming!" Salythara was running, pushing with all her remaining strength. People rammed and pushed at her and the child. Where could they hide? There was nothing but open fields and some trees scattered between. 

Crack, Snap. Some tall pines were bedding and snapping away from the wind the dragon's wings carried. A tsunami of force sent many people to fall down. Salaythara fell alongside Alistor. They both saw the dark Onyx scales of the beast, the glowing yellow eyes, and atop its rider. That's the true monster, to use such a creature to slaughter innocents what men do to each other in times of war. She thought 

Alistor did not speak; he just watched as the beast flew higher in the sky, blotting out the moon's sight. 

Salytahra picked up the child again and began running uphill. SNAP, CRACKLE, POP. She could feel the heat from the dragon's flames and the screams of others caught in the blast. Suddenly, it was so bright that you would think the morning sun had risen. 

She kept running desperately, holding tightly to the boy. She saw a cave opening only a few meters away. Everyone was running around scattered. Some people stood still and accepted their fate, while others held the ones they loved. Again, the heat and roar of the dragon as closer, so close that the crimson flames wrapped around her leg.

"AHHHHH!" She fell forward, dropping Alistor.

She looked back, and her foot was charred up to her calf; she could not continue the run. The dragon swooped down and turned back. It was coming again for a final sweep. 

"Alistor, go save yourself, child!" She threw her arm, gesturing for him to run.

"No..you did not leave me, so I won't leave you." He came and sat next to Salythara

Tears began pouring down her eyes, and she reached for the young Orc's hand. The courage and strength these people possess. She thought 

She crawled up to him painstakingly and held the boy tightly. They both watched as the dragon began its final descent. Neither looked away; both accepted their fate. They watched as the black rider grew larger and watched as the valley beneath the dragon began to warp and change under the force its wings carried. The life beneath the valley being drained turning black as its fire destroyed everything in sight.

Again, Azraiel found himself amazed by the bravery of the young Orc in staying. He looked to the west and watched as the dragon breathed its breath of Death upon the land. The flames touched him but had no effect on him, for he was on another plane the mortal eyes of beasts and men could not comprehend. He watched as the flames consumed both Salythara and Alistor instantly. Their deaths were painful but quick. 

He didn't waste time and was accompanied by many others like him to attend to the two. He could see other angels of Death collecting the souls of those around them who fell. He could now speak to the two he was assigned to.

He came to Alistor; the boy's soul was shy and did not speak.

"It's okay, Alistor. Nothing will harm you now. Come. I take you to meet your creator and rest." He started extracting the boy's soul beginning at his curled toes and gently pulled, and slowly, the boy's essence flowed out like water pouring from a jug. Azra’il gestured to the other attendants to bring him the shroud, they presented him with an ivory shroud of pure light and the scent of sweet musk, not of this world a musk that, if it were to enter the physical, would purify this world. He gestured to the angels assigned to him.

"Take him to his lord." He handed the small child's soul to the angels and watched as they began their ascension. 

He now looked to Salythara and made his way to her.

Salythara felt no more pain; the searing cruelty of the dragon fire had suddenly ceased. She couldn't explain what she saw in words, but she saw a figure, a celestial being of such radiant beauty. He smiled and knelt beside her. 

"Everything will be okay. No one and nothing can hurt you now. I'm here to help you depart from this world and into the next." 

Behind him, Salythahra saw thousands of radiant beings smile and congratulate her, telling her everything would be okay.

She felt at peace. All the pain she had experienced in her entire life did not matter, for the veil had been lifted, and she saw the truth before her.

The being started at her feet, and she could see her very essence flowing out of her like smooth and steady. A pure shroud was placed on top of her, and she could feel herself ascending high, transcending time and space faster than the speed of light. 

Azra’il did as he commanded and presented the souls to his lord, from whom they received tremendous blessings once their time in the heavens had come to an end. They were brought back to the earth to rest; however, they would return to the heavens after the day of reckoning. Both Salythara and Alsitor saw the homes waiting for them in paradise. Both souls looked at one another, smiled, and slowly fell into a blissful sleep, not to be awake until the day of reckoning.

Azra’il closed his parchment, sealed it, and handed it to one of the angels at his side. They presented him with another while the scroll was carried off. He had his list of the following souls to collect. This time, the list was filled with thousands of names. All these souls would die collectively by the sinking of their city, by the worms of terror. He quickly left to his next task helping these souls escape the prison of this life and enter the next.