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“Whatexactlyis The Committee? I know they talk about it more in detail in temples, but I’ve never been. They’re more common in North-Terra,” she asked.
“What do you know about them?”
“Nothing for certain, just that they control where we go when we die,” she said.
“Long ago, when the Old Gods died, they put a committee of spirits to take over the cycle of life and death. The Committee decides if someone goes to Aeternus or Paradisus when they die.”
Primrose cocked her head. “How do they decide?”
“No one knows for sure, but it is rumored to be based on many things. How many atrocities someone commits in a lifetime compared to their good deeds. General temperament. Whether The Committee finds them worthy. These are all things said to be under consideration,” he said.
“That’s so… interesting.” Her face was contemplative.
“Some souls fight this cycle and wind up in the In-Inter.”
“In-Inter?”
“The In-Between,” Protego explained.
“So… were you once a human?”
“No. Angels and demons, as humanity knows us, were spirits created to perform specific tasks. Around a thousand years ago, I was created and given a job. I was horrible at it, so I was given another one, and I’ve been doing that ever since.”
Primrose’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “Fired from being a demon? You’re really something,” she teased. “What’s your job now?”
“I rally up lost souls, or souls wrongfully placed in Aeternus.” He smiled proudly.
“That sounds lovely,” she said.
“I’m much more suited for this.”
“I honestly can’t picture you being bad at anything. Besides maybe riding a horse.”
He laughed, and they smiled at one another, the silence growing.
“How were you bad at your previous job?” she asked.
“They wanted me to torture souls, Primrose. I couldn’t do it.” His jaw tightened, and he became visibly disturbed.
Primrose’s chest ached for him. “I don’t blame you. I’m glad you weren’t cut out for that type of job.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. Curling into him, Primrose rested her head on his chest. Protego gently brushed his fingers down her arm.
“Go to sleep, starling,” Protego insisted as she yawned.
“Would you tell me a story? Tell me about The Committee, or you, how’d you end up here?”
“A thousand years ago, The Committee created another demon of torture,” Protego began. “They had too many souls and not enough spirits, so they created a new spirit, but he was too kind. He had empathy, something a demon should lack. So when the demon refused to harm anyone, he was given a new task.”
“You.”
“Yes. I was put in charge of helping lost souls, but I wasn’t allowed to leave Aeternus unless ordered.”
Primrose stilled. “So, how did you get the souls out of Aeternus?”
“For a long while, I didn’t. The souls in my territory, Sanctuarium. The Committee’s solution was to create an angel that would be granted access to travel between realms,” he said.
“An angel?” she questioned.
“Not like what you’re picturing. They are wingless beings, and they’re not always morally just. They’re just spirits from Paradisus, the same as a demon. The only difference is their essence. We’re made from darkness—smoke and shadow. Angels are made from light—brightness and fire.”
