White Space

When that Seraph agreed to transport me to a “White Space”, I didn’t expect the name to be so appropriate. Here, a single, homogenous void stretches in all directions. Looking down, my gut drops. I wouldn’t have been able to tell I was standing on the ground without feeling it pushing back against my boots. The unsettling lack of a shadow doesn’t help to improve my disorientation either. This definitely tops the list of strange places I’ve been to. Sorry, Cheese Canyon, your charming gouda walls just can’t beat this. 

The Doors don’t seem to be close by- better get moving towards... somewhere. Wish that Seraph told me where I could actually find those Doors. Clutching the spade-shaped amulet around my neck, I take a deep breath. The dent in it serves as a reminder of my goal. I slap my cheeks with my gloved hands twice. Time to focus. During times like this, there’s always one solution: I toss Grace into the air. The chrome revolver somersaults in the air thrice before landing onto the non-ground. Its barrel points about forty-five degrees to my right.

I pick Grace up and make my way a couple of miles before a ripple in the white void catches my attention. Maroon steadily seeps in through the disturbance like a wine spill on carpet and the Seraph appears. 

“Have you located the Doors?” they ask within my head. It had been strange the first time I heard its voice in my head just before arriving here, but given the circumstances I welcomed any kind of noise. 

“Take a look around, there’s nothing here for miles.”

“I am unable to peer too far into this realm lest I go mad. I am afraid I have to keep my sights on you solely.” 

“Lucky you,” I say, winking up at the Seraph in the non-sky. They look upset. 

“You held me at gunpoint.”

“Because you scared the living hell out of me! Beauty basically acted on their own.”

“I believe I said ‘be not afraid’ when I first appeared.”

“You’re a giant floating face with wings.” 

“Regardless, you can tell ‘Beauty’ that actions have consequences. Even revolvers are not exempt from this. Especially not one of its... current status.” 

“Okay, we got off the wrong foot.” Clearing my throat, I introduce myself. “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Mir, a simple bartender turned multi-dimensional gunslinger on a journey to find my son. What’s your name?” 

“If I were to reveal to you my name, your eardrums would explode before your soul is set aflame,” the Seraph says without giving any further details about itself. 

“You are making this unnecessarily difficult.”

“Fine. You may call me Selen. It was once a name given to me by another human.” 

“What were they like?” I dare ask. Selen’s expression hardens immediately.

“Irrelevant. For now, focus on finding the Doors. I will credit you with one thing, Mir, I am able to tell that you are already heading in the right direction,” they say. I pat the revolver on my right thigh. Grace never makes any mistakes. 

“A deal is a deal. I find the Doors, cross one, and you get to use the other for… whatever a Seraph needs destiny-altering portals for.”

“Remember you must stay alive for the second Door to be used. They will not appear for me.”

I nod as Selen begins to fall back through the tear in the non-sky. “Hey!” I call out, and to my surprise, they actually halt their retreat. “I know what it's like to lose someone close. I overstepped. I’m sorry.” They retreat out of White Space without saying another word. It wasn’t a smart idea to ask an ex-guardian angel about their human. 

After walking a few more miles, I take off my pack and begin to unload camp supplies. In these past seven years I’ve been to strange places, met strange people, and interacted with strange technologies. My chestplate was one such piece of technology. Not only does it offer protection, it also adapts to surrounding temperature. Next to the fire, it shines so brilliantly that I have to cover it with my hat. 

Sleep comes quickly. 

The familiar rustic browns of my wooden saloon fill my vision. I’m polishing glasses from behind the counter when the thuds from a pair of boots step through the doors, bringing a cloud of sand in with them. “Sorry, but we’re not open yet, sir! First drinks are served at sundown,” I say without looking up from my glass. 

“I’m not here for drinks,” replies a young man’s voice. The boots step to the end of the bar and halt. “How much would a conversation cost me?”

“Fifty cents,” I say, finally finishing my polishing. What a stubborn stain. I open a cabinet below the bar when I hear something rolling down the bar. Clink. Clink. Standing back up, I see two quarters sitting next to the glass. My guest laughs and I can’t help but let out a bit of a chuckle myself. I grab a second glass and pour some orange juice into both. 

“Thank you,” he says, nodding. 

“Mir,” I say, extending a hand.

“Caleb Kapers,” he says, extending his in return. He then pulls out a deck of cards. “How good is your memory, Mir?” 

“Not so bad for someone my age. I have this saloon to thank for that. Gotta memorize a couple dozen different drinks,” I answer honestly before gesturing to the deck. “What kind of memory game do you play with cards?”

Caleb shuffles the deck, splits it in half and presents the two halves, face up, indicating that I must choose one. The eight of clubs or the ace of spades. I choose the ace. “The kind that makes you think back to choices made early on,” he says. He shuffles the cards and once again presents me with two halves. The eight of spades or the ace of clubs. I choose the eight of spades.  

“Are you gambling man, Mir?” Caleb asks, shuffling the deck again. 

“No.”

“Didn’t think so,” he says, seemingly satisfied. “Can you recall the last two cards you chose?” 

“Of course, there were only two,” I say with a raised eyebrow. 

“Why do you reckon you chose those cards?”

“It reminded me of some old memories-” I pause. Did he say his last name was Kapers? That Kapers?

“Have you ever heard of the Twin Spades, Mir?” Caleb says as he calmly reassembles his deck and tucks it into a vest pocket. “Ranger and deputy. Together they kept order in the early days of this land. How about the First of October fifteen years ago? They raided a supposed bandit camp. Nothing really special about these particular criminals, just a bunch of thugs and robbers. Or at least, that’s what the papers said.

“Truth is, we were starving. As people from a different realm, we weren’t welcome here even if we were as human as anyone else. No one would take us in so we did the only thing we could do to get food,” Caleb continues. “Do you remember the leader of that group? Do you remember the child you found hiding underneath the carriage after you killed that leader?” 

Behind those golden eyes of his, I can see a burning vengeance. Caleb pulls out a revolver, a golden one. “You didn’t kill him instantly, Mir. He was comatose for years. But I finally saved him from that fate. Now we’ll both be dealing out justice.” 

The stairs to my left creak. Caleb snaps his revolver in that direction. Both of our eyes widen- his in surprise, mine in panic. 

“Dad? What’s happening?” Artur asks, rubbing his blue eyes with the palm of his tiny hand. 

“Nothing, son. Go back upstairs,” I say with as much calm as I can muster. “You can sleep in my room. Lock the door behind you. Don’t open it unless you hear Daddy’s voice, okay?” 

Caleb turns his eyes back at me. “Please,” I plead with him. “This is between you and me. Let’s go outside. Don’t let him see.”

Caleb’s mouth drops. “You have the audacity to say that to me!?” He turns the golden revolver at me and fires. 

I wake up screaming Artur’s name, but the sound is swallowed by White Space. The light of the void outside is blinding when I open my eyes. I wipe a tear away and fumble my spade amulet in my fingers. It had taken the bullet for me, but I was still knocked unconscious. When I had woken up, Caleb and Artur were gone. I pack up and only after I have walked for an hour do I notice a tear in the void. Selen hovers some distance above me. 

“You’re here,” he says in my head. Two tiny disturbances appear and slowly take the shape of solid, titanic doors. To the left is a beautiful, pristine door nearly as white as the void surrounding it but lined with gold detailing. This Door is Revenge. To the right, a worn down door- it had seen better days. This Door is Justice. 

I made the decision about which Door I would choose a long time ago. With each step closer, a muffled ringing progressively grows louder in my ears. Sound! The disappearance of White Space’s characteristics is matched by the appearance of an abandoned town on the other side. The sun hangs high and a single figure stands in the middle of the dirt road. Caleb. 

“Let’s see. I was in my kitchen but now I’m suddenly in the middle of nowhere, the person I thought I had killed is standing in front of me, and there’s a portal behind him. So you’ve gone and done it, Mir? Gone through the Doors? You should’ve just kept mixing drinks,” Caleb says with a wry smile. 

“Last chance, Caleb. Hand Artur over or I’m going to be mixing your face with the dirt,” I call back. 

“Really? That’s the best you got?”

“I’m working on it.” 

“Well, offer refused. It can’t end simply after all the hard work you’ve done! Once you’re six feet under, maybe I’ll go grab a nice dinner. 

“Have you ever been to Cheese Canyon?”

“I’m lactose intolerant!” He pulls out a cobalt blue revolver and fires. Thankfully, the quickshot went wide, allowing me to roll behind a building… made of wood. I duck before two more bullets fly through. Pulling out Beauty and Grace, I risk a peek around the corner. Caleb has also taken cover behind his own wooden wall. He tauntingly waves the cobalt revolver. “This what you came for, Mir? Come and get it!” Caleb grabs a second revolver, the golden one, and fires. 

Under a hail of bullets, I kick in the backdoor of the building which I learn is a boutique thanks to the mannequins on the ground. I stand next to a broken window to survey the situation. I reload Beauty and fire three shots at positions where he could be hiding. He returns fire, shattering the window on the far side of the room, shattering the glass. 

Odd. He’s been spot on with his shots until now. I decide to take a risk. I step into the middle of the window, in clear view, and wait. 

No shots come. More perplexed, I take yet another risk and stick my body out to get a better view. The sun’s light hits my eyes and momentarily makes me wince, forcing me to retreat back to shade just as two bullets whistle past. That shouldn’t have been possible. The sun’s light couldn’t have hit me because my hat blocked it out. I look down at my chestplate. It’s shining.

I rush outside, stick to the shade, and sprint to the building at the end of town. On the second floor, I get to work. I undo my chestplate and fashion onto a mannequin I took from the boutique and tie my hat onto it as well. If this doesn’t work, I’ll have to fight without any armor. Then I flip Grace into the air. Their barrel points straight ahead. Caleb is just across from my building. Here goes nothing. 

I let out a shout. Then I kick the mannequin out the window. The sunlight reflects off my chestplate beautifully. Caleb fires and it strikes the mannequin multiple times.

Footsteps in the sand signal that Caleb has left his building. I glance outside.

“Poor, Ranger. That was quite the final act, leaping out of there like a cornered animal. You even sounded like one in the end,” he says, approaching the mannequin. He inspects the cobalt revolver in his hand. “Ironic, that your son was the one to do you in.”

I toss my spade amulet into the air outside. “I’m not dead yet!” I shout. The sunlight bounces off its reflective surface. Caleb fires at it, and just like it had years before, it takes the bullet. I waste no time. Taking out Beauty and Grace, I drop to the dirt outside, approaching slowly. Caleb lies still. The bullet ricocheted straight back to him. I kick his golden revolver away before scrambling to find the cobalt one. I smash the crystal at the bottom of the handle. And it begins to tremble. Light escapes from cracks forming across its bodies and climaxes into a brilliant flash before subsiding. A new weight presses against my arms. Artur. The tears come. 

Seven years. Seven long years of trying to find him but never once did I forget his face. And he’s so big now! First I cry out of relief, then I sob because of the pain I’ve pushed down finally bursting to the surface, and lastly I weep because for seven years I couldn’t watch my son grow up to become a young man. 

Through the tears, I see Beauty and Grace, still on the ground, awaiting their turn. A deal is a deal. After setting down Artur’s unconscious body atop my bedroll inside the building at the end of town, I shatter the crystals of my revolvers. When the light dissipates, twin angels emerge. Unlike Artur, they are conscious.

Then I break the crystal of the golden revolver and the body of an old man emerges. Caleb’s father isn’t breathing. I turn to Beauty and Grace. “I have a final favor to ask.” They return with a shovel after flying across the town. I dig two graves. 

Afterwards, the four of us make our way back to the Door, Beauty and Grace by my side and Artur laying unconsciously in my arms. After giving Beauty and Grace blindfolds to protect themselves, they step through. When it's my turn, I lay Arutr down to the side. Behind me, the Door slowly begins to shut and I call out to Selen. A deal is a deal. I wave a third blindfold. 

“The other Door is yours, Selen,” I say. 

“Good. I must congratulate you, Mir,” they reply. Their gaze turns to the twins who are trembling. They seem to recognize Selen’s voice. Selen sighs. “As I am no longer a guardian angel, I have no authority to punish you two for entering the human realm. And... I would be inclined to believe that you have suffered enough.

“Mir, although I am hesitant to do it, I must thank you. You have given me an opportunity at redemption.” 

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do a good thing back there,” I say gesturing to the Door. “Now the Kapers are resting in a place far from their home.” 

Selen’s eyes widen. But they aren’t staring at me. 

I turn around in time to see Caleb emerging from the closing Door, covered in dirt and once again brandishing a golden weapon, but this time it's only a knife. He charges forward. I reach for a gun, but grab only air. I’m defenseless. 

With a cry, Selen descends and pushes me to the ground. Beauty and Grace, still blindfolded, become confused at the sudden outcry from the Seraph. Selen takes a human form with a full body but two wings remain on their back. They struggle against Caleb, but something is wrong. Selen’s eyes are burning. The effects of White Space are settling in. 

“Who the hell are you?” Caleb demands through gritted teeth. Selen wraps their wings around my ears, but I can make out the words Selen says next. 

“MY NAME IS-” I look away from their mouth at the last moment. When I look back, Caleb is consumed by holy fire. Shaking off the initial shock, I rush to give Selen the blindfold but they raise a hand. 

“My fate was sealed the moment I entered,” Selen says, sitting down. They point to the twins. “Bring this man and his son with you. I won’t be able to transport them out anymore.” Then Selen points at me. “Don’t let your second chance go to waste. Protect your son. Take care of him. But most importantly, be there when he needs you. Do your job as a guardian. Leave me, it seems I am out of time. Go, before the madness sets in.” 

“I could take you to the other Door before that happens,” I say, moving towards Selen. They push me away with a wing. 

“I do not believe a Seraph gone mad could make use of it. Perhaps I could never have used it in the first place. Now go! Allow me to depart in peace.” 

Before I can protest, Beauty grabs Artur, and Grace lifts me from underneath my arms. We ascend upward, and I can see the Door Revenge at last close from behind Selen. True to Selen’s word, the Door Justice remains unopened.