Who says that Cancers have to be kind and sensitive? Or that Scorpio’s are always twisty?

All I’m saying is there are too many generalizations humans make. Cold marble clicks under my feet, for many, many years it has withstood this routine. New souls drift in.

Some kick and scream, protesting that they were never meant to die.

Others waltz in peacefully, bags under their eyes as if they’ve been waiting their entire lives just for this moment in front of the courts.

Mortals believe that when you die you see your core memories. And you do- just not in the way you expect.

A man is dropped in, accompanied by a principality.

He’s more trouble than I am worth. Twisting and screaming, the person is dragged into the room.

I watch as the gold gates slam shut behind him and the clouds whisk back into place, covering whatever sins are revealed inside that room.

Perfection is all that matters.

Perfection is what I am.

A clipboard is whisked clear through the air when she arrives, hitting one of the juniors in the face so hard I nearly feel bad for them.

Nearly.

They open their mouths to yell some type of expletive but instead of words just air comes out. Sadly, no other junior goes to help, and I don’t blame them. They’re all either toying with their newfound wings, having an existential crisis, or too busy trying to make conversation with the stars to long dead family members. The newbie dusts themselves off and steps back into line.

Celeste steps off of the cloud she glided in on, sucking her clouds back into the small vile and tucking it into her belt.

The newbies practically runs out of her sight after stuttering out an apology, tripping over their wings. I would be scared if a 9 foot ethereal being just walked up to me. If I was still human, that is.

Twelve golden pillars connect to a black opal dome, each with a sin or a kindness carved into them. I watch as the newbie skitters in. Front of their pillar for this round of testing: envy. Each pillar symbolizes an error in your personality, a Fault that not even being reincarnated into an angel can fix. Something that, once you overcome, can lead you to climbing the ranks to an archangel, like me.

Celeste strolls over to me, her white robe trailing behind her. Once she reaches the center of the room with me she summons that same clipboard back to her from the outskirts of the room.

”Nice seeing you again.” She gives an ear to ear grin.

”Don’t I see you everyday?” I realize I sound even less awake than I already am.

She has a thin veil draped over her face, you can see the sharp curves of her lips and the dip on the bridge of her nose- along with a smattering of freckles that bring out her forest eyes- but never her Fault.

”Don’t be such a downer!” I throw her a side eye.

After surveying the room to make sure they’re in the right place, we begin.

Celeste clears her throat before summoning a pointer from thin air, directing it to the first pillar with its matching Fault. The angel smooths her hands in front of her before speaking.

”Kindness.” Her voice projects itself across the room. Most would say she’s blessed to be one of the positive six. I say she’s not.

The main goal to climb the ranks is to maintain your balance of self, hone it until you’re truly perfect.

Celeste struts over to the angle, raising a short pillar straight out of the marble that holds a bowl of stardust.

What happens next is sacred and never to leave these walls.

The angel’s chin is tipped up by Celeste. She whispers something as she delves through the angel’s memories until both of their eyes go blank. To be truly sure they’ve changed she must see their whole life. After what feels like a few short moments for us but hours on end for them she pulls back and dips a finger into the stardust. The angel stands there motionless as she draws two ovals on her forehead, connecting them by a line.When she finishes only then do the now archangel’s pupils return to her eyes. Only after a second does she fade into a dim shadow of herself before appearing again, taller, brighter, and with a fuller halo. She makes her way over to me to recieve new instruction.

”Seek out those of your Fault, deliver them to the principality.”

The bowl of stardust gets swept up by Celeste as she does this for the other 11.

Greed, love, envy, passion, sloth, empathy, gluttony, lust, pride, wrath, and optimism.

When she gets to the last one, I could’ve sworn I saw the constellations shift a bit on the ceiling of the dome.

Looking up, you can see the Great Hunter aim his bow down.

I have to get that fixed.

A screen pops up from the corner of my vision, nearly startling me.

“You’re late!” A high pitched voice squeaks from the screen.

Arella is never late- no matter how much I want her to be.

She’s much smaller than the other angels because of her dying age. I never asked her how she died but I’ve heard somehow she remembers her past life like it was yesterday.

“I know, the ceremony ran over today.” It really wasn’t my fault that the stars shifted.

All she does is roll her eyes,”Do you know how hard it was to get my hands on a personal summons?!” She’s eons younger than me but she acts as anything else.

”You always could’ve just asked Celeste.”

“Shut up.” I know I’m picking at a nerve. I think it throws Celeste off that Arella knows her full past life without having to be told it.

“Today we have-“ she makes jazz motions with her hands-“star duty!”

”That’s just spectacular. Is that all?” It’s almost human- dealing with the stars. They have their own problems, relationships, and agenda.

And they tend to be extremely unorganized.

Every few days archangels and principalities are assigned with the task to make sure they are happy, take note of the soon dying stars, and make sure the constellations are in the correct order. Can’t forget about the Great Hunter.

Arella likes dealing with the stars, once she told me one of them used to be someone to her. It doesn’t seem too unlikely based on her personality but it still seems odd for a principality to be clinging to their past lives.

It hits me that this was an obvious call for me to make my way over to her, I scramble with my belt until I find-

Nothing. Exactly where my Cirrus clouds should be.

Well nothing except for a crude note with I’ll pay you back next time! -C scrawled on it hurriedly.

I swear-

“Uhm, you don’t look like you’re moving!” Arella sings from across the screen, the sound cutting out from the time limit soon approaching.

I search for a substitute in my bag,”Cassian stole from me again. Just gimme a sec-“

Before I can blink again I’m directly in front of Arella- rather, directly above her.

”You’re lucky someone owed me a favor.” The small bottle in her hand flips up to me. Catching it, I examine the writing: Thanks for the overtime! Extra Enochian inside.

I nearly smile,”Aww look who’s been working on their runes?” I say in my best baby voice.

The cloud she summoned me to as a result of her miscalculation is swept out from under me and I fall to the cold floor. Directing her attention from me, she looks at her screen which seems to have popped up from nowhere. Which it most likely did. “Tell me when you’re ready and we can start the walk.”

I can’t help but groan from the floor as she gets her bag together. The area around the stars is restricted airspace since mortals might see you. All because one day some idiot decided to forget their shield and for the next century all the talk was about UFO’s on Earth.

Getting up from the grit of the marble floor is harder since she dropped me from far enough to knock the wind out of me.

”The Great Hunter is tilted 300 degrees,” the words drift out of my mouth as she hops from place to place,”If the mortals see Orion looking as if he’s had too much ambrosia it’ll be a nightmare of paperwork.”

She completely ignores me and proceeds to check over her supplies before replying absentmindedly,”Maybe he’s exhausted. Millenia of aiming at nothing would make anyone weary.”

Sounds a little personal. Mentally I make a note not to bother her too much today.

“Soo,-“I edge myself close to the door and slip the Enochian back into her pocket, grinning a bit when she swats my hand,”What do you remember before this? You know, like, dying?”

The door closes a little too tightly behind her when she steps outside, leaving me to catch up.

”Why?”

I should’ve stopped the words coming out of my mouth next.

”Because you never talk about it. I’m just occupying the empty time.”

Light from the other offices flood the street along with the click and clack of typewriters. I kick at the clouds lining the path just to watch them reform.

“I was about 15.”

I can’t help but look back at her, surprised she even answered.

You don’t need to know this.

If that’s all she will give me then I think it was deeper than a physical pain.

”Nevermind. It can wait for another day.”

I look to the side expecting to see her, only for both of us to realize she’s stopped. She hurries back to my pace and continues speaking.

”You know what I do miss? The weather.”

”What?” She changed the topic so fast I nearly got whiplash.

”I would spend hot July nights out on the porch with my brother, he’d always get us sent inside because he’d try and throw fireflies into the kitchen window at our mom.” The whole time she’s making these wild gestures with her hands as if she’s describing the most magical thing she’s ever experienced. She might very well be.