Treeshade 1: sleep

I glared half-heartedly over the top of the soup pot.  Half of the party was already asleep.  Of course.  So I had to clean.  Of course.
The wizard was out cold by the fire.  I shoved her foot away from the firepit so she didn’t get scorched by the coals.  She grumbled in her sleep.  The fighter was still counting his gold from the cave, but he’d be turning in soon.  The druid had nodded off with her head on the flank of the dire wolf she had tamed a few months back.  Crazy lady was going to wake up with no fingers one day.
The ranger was already out, too, in the darkest shadows of the clearing, like a dog.  I suppose that left first watch to me.  Again.

By the time the rest of the party was asleep, I was fifteen minutes into the watch, and I could hear them breathing behind me.  The soft sound of the birds all around us had ended, and now the lightbugs were flitting back and forth, having their iridescent mating rituals.  It was a pretty show.  It reminded me of the view behind Her.  Darting lights, in a peaceful glade.  I couldn’t help but smile.  It felt so much like my future home.

My eyes were heavy when I heard the druid stir.  She wobbled over to me and tapped my shoulder.  “You’re all set,” she said with a yawn.  The half-elf only needed four hours of sleep.

“Thanks,” I said.  I rose to my feet and started removing my chain shirt.  I could feel the need for rest pulling at my eyes.

She watched me as I stripped down to my shirt.  “So… I’m a half-elf.”

I nodded.  “No kidding.”

“Four hours of sleep.”

“Yep.”

“You’re human.”

“With you so far.”  I pulled the rest of my clothes off as she looked away for a moment.  I wondered in jest if she was doing it because she wanted me to have a second’s privacy as I changed my smallclothes or if she was just wondering how to phrase her question.

“So… pure human?  No genie or elf blood?  No fish-person?”

“Pure.”

She threw up her hands.  “So how do you do it?  You’re the last one to sleep and the first one to wake!  Every day!” she whispered loudly in frustration.  “Is it some paladin thing?  Is it a spell?”

“I've said it is before,” I reminded her.  I pulled on a sleeping shirt and patted her shoulder as she stared at me grumpily.  “Want me to spoil it for you?  I could.”

She glared for a moment.  “Bah!  I’ll figure it out myself!”

I shrugged.  “Your call.”


I settled down in the shadow of a tree, aglow with the darting yellow insects and closed my eyes.  Not a moment passed while I lay there, yet I traveled a trillion miles and four planes in my mind.

There She was.  Perfect.  Always perfect.  Always different.  Today, a soft blue tunic, cut to the midline, over copper pantaloons with grey trim, with kid leather gloves and softshoes.  A single hairband.  Her skin was radiant, gleaming silver, Her hair platinum threads, and Her eyes shimmering yellow topaz.  She had been dark-skinned yesterday, and birch-white the day before.  Always different.  Always Herself.

I made a show of sitting up and swinging my legs around long enough to bow, low enough that I couldn’t see if She was waving me to raise my head.  Mine is a rare gift and not given lightly, nor accepted absent grave honor.

Five.  Ten.  Fifteen seconds in deep genuflection, then a slow raise of the head.  There She sat still, the door behind Her open.  It was a low door.  She never crossed it, She never needed to.  I imagine if She needed to go beyond to be with Them and Theirs, She would simply be, and doors would be a contrivance.  The door was for me.  Someday.

Beyond, glittering shafts of golden light, shining from the undersides of leaves, casting a trillion weird shadows and strange pools of radiance, aglow with the souls of trillions more.  Each pool, each shadow, each subtle gradation of light a city, each the size of a dewdrop or sprawling like an indolent cat in a sunbeam.  Each an afterlife.  Each a mystery.  Each was a plane of its own, and this is their hub.  Around each tree, an army of stone men stood shoulder to shoulder, casting a shadow of their own, or a thousand.  Each shadow they cast, a city of its own, the home of a hundred thousand worthy warriors.  Me, among them, or so I prayed and asked every single night.

I dared to rise, as always I do, and She beamed an approving grin.  She sat on one side, legs bent beneath her.  She was comfortably at rest.  Beside me, behind me, who cared?  I did once, and I looked, and there was only empty darkness, the space where those who dare not earn their place behind Her wilt away, I guess.  If they don’t go to one of the Nature houses or the Wastrels, those jesting spirits of mockery who make the occasional fair-weather friends.  At least they take care of the souls of the mad.  I don’t have the patience.

I walked slowly to Her, bowing lower as I approached.  I dared not loom over Her.  I saw Her arms and armor, stacked neatly behind Her, just in case some Dirteater befoulment charged the walls, as if that ever worked.  She would don them in an instant if She needed them, and as much as I want always to protect Her master and kin, I would not dare presume to stand between an Angel and her prey.  Ever.

When I reached her, I knelt, and brought my eyes level with Hers.  I loved Her, and I loved Her master who is mine alike, and as Her lips curled in another smile, my heart sang a thousand verses.  Yes, they loved me back.  I conceal it well, I think, but I pity those who do not know the unquenchable fire of love as I do, spilling forth from the eyes of perfection to offer me warmth and rest.

That is my secret, or not a secret at all.  I’ve told my friends many times where I go at night, and they do not believe me.  I knelt before Her, and soft wings of spun gold embraced me, and my joints turned to water.  She held me against Her breast, and I closed my eyes in my dream.  Strong arms embraced me, and She leaned back.  I stretched out my legs before Hers, my back to Her, and She draped one arm over my shoulders.  I shivered in my dream, and in the waking world, the druid looked over in concern, but saw me lie there still, a soft smile on my face.

“Rest ye now, heal ye now, know thy answer’d question,” She whispered.  Her voice was the same, every night.  That was how I knew Her.  Every day, She ushered new souls into the world, and every night, here She laid, my gift and my soul’s owner.  Every night, I have told my druidic friend, I come here in my mind, and She lends unto my soul the rest of the virtuous.  That, I have said more than once to my annoyed fighter friend, is why I give my share of the treasure to those who need it more, and which never includes him.  There are many hardships to being a Paladin of the Order of the Penniless, but an advance on the infinite payments of the virtuous is more than enough to make up for it.

“My question never changes, sacred one,” I whispered back.  She laughed softly, and a silly smile spread across my cheeks.  She slowly lowered one shimmering golden wing over my flank and snuggled my head against Her ample bosom, turning my head slightly to gaze up.  I opened my eyes and watched the slowly shifting lights pour from the door behind Her, lulling me with their endless pattern.  She was leaning back against the stack of armor, and had wrapped both arms and wings around me.  Her legs splayed out beside mine as I sat with my back to perfect heaven and its perfect warrior.

“Ah, but the course of the river changes, and feeds new seas,” She whispered.  “Ever striving to reach the greater waters.”

“Good.”  I crossed my hands in my lap, and she rested hers over mine.  I felt the infinite strength in them and relaxed as my mortal flesh never could.  “Good.”

“Sleep ye flesh, open the ears of thine soul, and listen to the next chorus, virtuous soul,” She said warmly.  We both fell silent and listened to the music of the dead.


I awoke slowly the next morning. The druid was still up on the watch, slowly turning from side to side, keeping her vigil. The fire had gone cold. I rose to my feet and began dressing, ready for the day. It was still pitch black out.

“I’ll figure it out someday, paladin,” the druid said over her shoulder. Neither of us much cared if the others woke up at this point.

“I’ve told you. Every night, I travel to the-”

“Vaulted Gates, I know, the crawlspaces that virtuous souls have to fit through before they go to your city of whatever,” the half-elf said. “I’ve heard it before.”

“It‘s true.”

“Bah!  You do not get to sleep with an angel every single night,” she scoffed.

I didn’t hide my smile as I pulled out fresh firewood and kindled the flames with a snap. “It’s true.”

“Then why are you such a blushing virgin every time you wander in on me and the ranger?” she asked grumpily.

“I didn’t say I have sex with an angel every night. Big difference.”

She rolled her eyes and went back to watching the road. “Whatever. I’ll figure it out.”

“I hope so,” I said quietly. I thought about Her perfection as She helped me to my feet at the end of my time with Her. I guessed it had been about a day this time, healing all the minor injuries I hadn’t had the magic to heal from those Carrion Crawlers in the caves, but by the position of the moon, I hadn’t been out three hours on this plane. “I really do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Everybody should feel so rewarded,” I said. I smiled as I remembered Her setting Her hands on my shoulders, then embracing me with Her wings again. She had rested her forehead on mine, and spoken soft Celestial to me.
‘Ennedoch leis haril, ghendro aspecte,’ She had blessed me, and all of my magic was back for the day. I had accepted a soft kiss on my cheek and a farewell wink, and I began to fade back to my own plane as the doors slowly swung shut behind Her. She resumed her watch as I awoke. She watches now.

The druid shrugged and fell silent. Maybe someday.