Where There's a Well, There's a Way

The Well of Souls.

Or rather, a well of souls. The Well of Souls was beyond the reach of angels and demons. But a well of souls was apparently well within their reach. Or within Gabriel's reach at least.

I could take it all, the angel thought to herself, staring at her bronze gauntlet before shifting her gaze to the tree before her. This world…its goddess…all ours…all mine…

The last part was a faint notion. She was a servant of Heaven, not some barbaric demon. This so-called well would become the property of angels, and this world an outpost of the First Kingdom. That was all there was for it.

Then why linger? The angel asked herself. Report it.

Grimly, Gabriel glanced back at the mountain path, knowing that Salthael would be waiting for her. Ready to keep any of the lower life forms away lest they disturb their work. Or her work at least. The beings of this plane of existence would flee in terror before daring to take on a servant of the First Kingdom.

Then why are you still here?

Gabriel shook her head. She had a headache. Something she hadn't had since a demon's hammer had struck it in battle a few millennia ago.

Slowly and softly, the angel took to the air, hovering around the tree before her, unsure as to exactly why she was doing it or what she hoped to accomplish. It didn't look like a well, she mused. And there were so many trees on this world it was a wonder its power had been sensed at all. There was a Tree of Souls somewhere, she knew, as well as trees of memory, home trees, and more types of tree than there were types of hellspawn in the Second Kingdom. This well, for all its power, was nothing compared to the legends of the Well of Souls that lay at the heart of Creation. It would be taken, used and before the century's end, no doubt it would be denied to both sides of the War.

So go. It is irrelevant. Report it, use it, fight for it, then leave it.

And what of the world, Gabriel wondered? Its people? Weak things, short-lived things…if they had names, she didn't know what they were. She told herself she didn't care. Worlds beyond measure had been ground to dust in the battles waged by angel and demon. Why should this one be spared a similar fate?

And yet…

Slowly, Gabriel descended to the ground. She needed to know. What that knowledge was, she could not say. What, how, why…it was irrelevant. She was operating on instinct alone. Instinct compelled her to kneel down before the tree. Instinct compelled her to remove her right gauntlet, letting her cold flesh sense the humid air around her. Instinct compelled her to reach out for a root and-…

All is one.

The angel sat rigid.

You are with us.

Us…not me. Yet one was talking.

Now truly see.

Gabriel's eyes rolled back. She wanted freedom. She wanted to take away her hand. She wanted…wanted…

Walk through the dream.

Walk…that was good. She certainly didn't feel capable of flying.

A light from the darkness, bringing hope of continued life.

And Gabriel saw.

It seemed like mere seconds had passed when she saw again. Even as she fell back from the tree onto the other roots around her, gasping for air in the manner of a mouth-breather.

Creator's breath…did I…

No. It wasn't the Creator. He was unknowable. That was what she was told, and if by some strange chance He had not abandoned His creation…Gabriel doubted that He would reveal Himself to her in this manner.

And yet…yet…

And yet this was something similar. A well of souls indeed, but the Well of Souls to this world. A backdoor to its…spirit? Its core? Its nexus point? Whatever it was, Gabriel had been with it. Briefly. But long enough to experience everything. Everything. All that was, past, present, and possible future. It was like this entire world was a universe of its own.

And perhaps it is…

Perhaps the Creator had left while this…being had stayed. Had left because everything that led back to his own well was constantly destroyed. Gabriel had been told that it was the order of things. That life was constantly recycled, renewed, reinvigorated. But this world…here…it was different. Life ended. But that end was natural. Ordered. Not carried out in sudden fire and battle.

It can't end.

Heaven could never come here. Hell could never come here. Rising to her feet, Gabriel knew that no-one could ever come here. Not if this world, its well, and everything in it had a chance of continued existence. Whatever benefits its power might grant Heaven, it was not worth the price that would be paid.

Slowly, the angel flew away. Not looking back.

She would say she saw nothing. Felt nothing. Found nothing.

She would never say she truly saw.

A/N

Minor note that this was written without Internet access, and with it now, I realize I botched Darksiders lore on the Well of Souls aspect. My bad. :(