Switched

Being an angel wasn’t easy. Especially if one were subject to the orders of the higher-ranked angels. Imriel was a member of the Battalion of Baraqiel, the Angel of Lightning. However, after hundreds of Watchers fell, it created a vacuum in the Legion of Watchers. The Legion of Guardians, once under the strict purview of the Archangel Zerachiel, replaced the Watchers and became the protectors of mortals. Imriel, being the most senior in his squad, moved to Zerachiel’s Legion.

But Imriel wasn’t a Guardian, per se. He worked in the Division of Souls, which had two sections, “Arriving” and “Departing”. Both fell under the purview of Puriel, the Chief Examiner of Souls. Imriel considered himself lucky to be assigned to arrivals instead of the more demanding Departing Section. His primary task was to crosscheck the names of the arriving souls against the Book of Life and send them on to the Departing Section. Fetchers sometimes made mistakes, and he must check if the soul they fetched arrived at their predestined time. Not a minute more, not a minute less. If they fetched it too early, then the Fetcher must return the soul to its mortal body to live out its remaining time.

His inbox was already full of labeled vials when Imriel returned to his station. Uziel, his supervisor, had called for an emergency meeting after the sheer volume of arriving souls threatened to overwhelm one section. They weren’t processing the souls fast enough after the plague hit Europe. Puriel ran a tight ship, and he disliked excuses. He ordered Imriel to help in the European section after his inbox was empty.

There were about a hundred vials to process, all labeled with the corresponding information. Like his supervisor, Imriel also ran a tight ship. He had programmed his inbox to reject unlabeled vials. Hunkering down to his task, Imriel was soon sending vials through the tubes like clockwork. Usually, he would take the time to gaze at the tendrils of souls swirling inside, often imagining what wonderful experiences these men and women had during their brief stints on earth. Humans always fascinated him. Their entire existence was a drop in the pool of eternity, yet most of them accomplished so much in such a short time. Yet today he must forego this little indulgence and work as fast as he could. He must think of the other poor souls waiting to be processed.

Imriel was on his last two vials when he encountered a glitch, but the result was the same even though he entered the numbers three times. Someone fetched these two before their time. Decades earlier! Imriel groaned. He didn’t have to look at the name of the Fetcher to know who it was. He’d already made at least four returns to this angel. By protocol, Imriel should have already reported him to Uziel, but he knew how difficult it was to switch from one job to another. This was the last time he would cover for him, though. Mistakes like these could be costly, especially if the mortal vessel was destroyed before the return of its soul. Their superiors could reassign both of them to another department if this kept on happening. And Imriel loved his present job too much to risk it over one clumsy angel.

***********

Saureil received Imriel’s summons the moment he stepped foot in his workstation. If angels could sweat, he would be bathed in it by now. This wasn’t the first time Imriel had summoned him, and he knew this one, like their other meetings, wouldn’t have a happy ending either. He wondered how far off the mark he was this time. He missed his job in Archangel Ariel’s Legion. Plants and animals were easier to take care of than these complicated humans. It would take him eons to understand them (if he even lasted that long in his present assignment).

His job as a Fetcher should’ve been easy. His only task was to fetch the souls of the dead. With animals, it was a piece of cake. Once their heart stopped, their brains also stopped, which meant they were totally and completely dead. Humans were different. He’d seen humans without heartbeats, but fully active brains. How could one be truly dead then if the consciousness was still there?

Death for humans, he realized, wasn’t as simple as one-two-three. Especially now that they had machines to keep the body alive. There were also those who were too stubborn to accept death. They would hang on to their mortal bodies for as long as they could, which often turned their soul bitter in the end. The Expediters, angels who dispatched Fetchers, normally sent them to places where death was imminent. The assigned Fetcher would hang around until the soul began its separation from the mortal body. They must then ‘fetch’ it and put it inside a special vial before it becomes fully conscious. Some, especially those who couldn’t accept their fate, try to evade their fetchers. These are the Runners and Wanderers. They always get caught in the end, of course. No one can avoid the Fetchers or the Hunters for long.

Saureil didn’t like Runners. And to avoid having one, he would often step in before the soul had completely detached itself from its mortal shell. In this sense, he was more of a grabber than a Fetcher. This technique had, unfortunately, caused him a few mistakes. Thankfully, he could amend his errors easily. Which was probably the only reason Imriel hadn’t reported him yet. Gamariel, Saureil’s captain, would kick him out of the Fetcher Division if he ever got wind of his mistakes. He wouldn’t mind getting booted out if he could be assured that they wouldn’t transfer him to an even worse position, like escorting hell-bound souls to their final destination. He shuddered just thinking about it. Fetching souls was difficult enough for him, escorting them to eternal torment would be a nightmare (even though angels didn't dream, or even sleep, for that matter).

When Saureil descended to the Second Level of Heaven, Imriel was already there waiting for him. The senior angel was looking quite grim this time, his aura exuding an unusually dark hue. Saureil’s face fell when he saw the two vials in Imriel’s hand. Did he make two mistakes at once? How could that be? Then he remembered the two souls he grabbed during the lightning storm. He knew he should’ve waited. But Saureil couldn’t bear seeing humans suffer, and those two were in so much pain. He only hastened the inevitable. No human ever survived Barachiel’s triple lightning bolts.

“Greetings, Imriel,” Saureil said as he lowered his head to acknowledge Imriel’s seniority.

“Greetings, Saureil,” Imriel said, bowing his head in return. “How are you doing today, my friend?”

“Very well, my friend. Thank you for asking. But I think you didn’t summon me here to inquire about my well-being.”

Imriel sighed. “You are correct. Unfortunately, I must return these two to you,” the angel said, extending the two vials to Saureil. “We have fetched them far too early. By several decades, as a matter of fact.”

Saureil winced. No wonder Imriel looked grim. Humans had very short lifespans. It was why the Almighty frowned upon fetching souls before their predestined time. Cutting it short by decades was a grave error, an almost unforgivable one.

“I’m sorry, Imriel. I just couldn’t stand seeing them suffer,” Saureil said. “It’s just too much for me.”

“I know. Perhaps you could try requesting a transfer?” Imriel suggested.

“The only section that has an opening is the one we both would never dream of working in.”

“I’m afraid this is the last time I can cover for you. Eventually, I would have to report your mistakes. Gamariel might not be so lenient.”

Saureil nodded. Imriel was truly a good friend. Had some other angel been his counterpart, his first mistake would most likely have been his last. “I understand, Imriel, and I promise to take care of this. I will not make another mistake again.”

This time, Imriel’s aura brightened. It was the equivalent of a human smile. “Thank you. Take care, my friend. Please address this immediately. I've been called to help our comrades in the European section and won’t be there to take your next deliveries.”

Saureil understood Imriel’s message. They would temporarily assign another angel to his station. Someone who might not be as understanding.

“To Him be all the glory and the power,” Imriel said.

“Forever and ever,” Sauriel replied, finishing the praise that signaled the end of their meeting.

Imriel waved one last time and disappeared into the clouds. Saureil looked down at the vials in his hands, determined to right his wrongs. He descended back to earth, honing in on the owners of the souls he must return. He sighed in relief when he arrived at the hospital where one of his charges lay, hooked to several beeping machines. The heart was beating strongly. It was enough.

Only then did Saureil realize his new dilemma. He remembered grabbing the souls of one male and one female. It should’ve been easy to tell which one belonged to whom because male souls had a bluish tinge, while female souls had a pinkish or reddish haze. Unfortunately, Saureil had a handicap. He couldn’t tell the difference. He could see the glowing tendrils, but not the colors. Yet, he couldn’t go back to Imriel to ask for help. He had already put his friend through too much trouble. He must sort this out on his own.

“Well, here goes nothing,” he said as he removed the stopper on one vial to release the soul inside.

Hopefully, to the right body.