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would be bigger disgrace than being angelborn.
    “The last mission was a man, nearing the end of his time,” she says, settling into her resting position. Angels require no furniture; they dwell in structures made of light to offer privacy and order, but very little about their day-to-day life would be recognizable to humans.
    I move beside my dam to listen to her, hovering close enough to touch, if such things were done.
    “His soul was bright,” she continues. “He has, perhaps, only one or two more lives before he is ready for the eternal flame. His dreams were of a lost love, not of his late wife, who was reborn only this past cycle. He dreamed of a girl from his past, one he had rebuffed due to the influence of his mother.”
    “Was she his one ?” The idea of such a tragedy freezes me in place.
    “Perhaps. But that was not my mission.”
    My curiosity is a restless creature pacing the floor of its cage. I love hearing of the choices that make up human lives and affect the strength of their souls.
    “A similar situation was in play with his granddaughter,” Kalyx continues. “She values his opinion and was at odds with her parents about a suitor. The grandfather was struggling with how to best advise her. A change to his dreams helped him make his choice.”
    “What did he choose? How did he advise his granddaughter?”
    “That was not part of my mission.”
    “Of course not,” I mutter, feeling like a bird shot from the sky. If Kalyx altering his dream helped his soul, that was all that mattered, not the actual outcome of the people involved.
    Spending so much time observing the humans has made my emotions more intense. They are still nowhere near human levels, but the disappointment is keen.
    “However, I anticipated your inquiry and remained to observe. He told the girl to follow her heart, and she did. Now he is at odds with his son, but his conscience is appeased and his soul that much brighter.”
    “Thank you!” The darkened portal beckons. What is the granddaughter doing now? How does she feel? If I could be a Destiny and walk the dreams of humans, I could help nudge them toward fulfillment as well. I could finally play a part in the engine of Euphoria.
    “Why are halflings barred from the most powerful guilds?”
    “There is too much humanity in you. You are weak and prone to emotionality. We must be objective in order to do our work.” To her this is just a matter of fact and not a judgment.
    “But the guilds aren’t objective. They have their ideologies and beliefs. The Angels of War work directly against the Angels of Peace.”
    “For some humans, conflict is the best way to enrich their souls. For others, peace is most effective. Another Destiny could have made a different decision on this mission. We all must serve the eternal flame.”
    Inside, I bristle. “And halflings can’t be trusted?”
    “Even now, you long for their world of struggle and strife. You make decisions based on feelings that may or may not serve the whole. You allow things such as boredom and wanderlust to prevent you from selecting a guild.”
    “Have you never felt wanderlust, Kalyx? What brought you to my father in the first place?”
    She dims again, and I’m sorry to have brought him up. “I never said I am immune to your curiosity. I once felt the draw as well. The tug of wonder. And I do not regret my actions, for they brought me you. I would have never known what it was to nurture one newly born otherwise. However, I do regret that my choices caused your life to be limited.”
    The portal flickers to life as she brightens. “Observe your fill, Caleb. I do not wish to stop you.”
    I glide closer, unable to help myself. A young woman appears, walking hand in hand with a man who obviously adores her. I envy the joy in their faces. They have no idea what is coming next, their lives are a string of experiences — learning and forgetting and learning again. They will die and live again without knowing