Don't Mess with Me by D.A.Sanford - HTML preview

Will of the Wisp

Why am I so misunderstood? I am only doing what needs to be done. You see I guide those lost souls to where they need to go. It is an important task. If I did not do it, no one else would.

This world would bemoan of the sour circumstances that would occur due to such spiritual woe caused by the lost souls. Until they are shown the way, they are in misery.

It is not their intent to cause harm, it is just that they feel the weight of being incomplete. Being the book that builds you up to a point, tells you of the next book containing the finish but that book is never written. It leaves your expectations forever hanging.

I am the Will of the Wisp. My job is to find them and guide them to heaven or hell. It is not my roll to determine where they go, only to guide them.

Please do not confuse me with my stuck up relative Charon, the ferryman. He is specialized, punting that boat across the river Styx. The bastard actually requires the soul to pay him. This is a solemn profession not to be tainted with the lust for profit.

If you cannot tell, we do not get along. He feels that I cut into his profit. Tough shit!

Back at the beginning, both of us were leftovers from the creation. You see we were off relaxing and did not hear the call to assemble. By the time we returned, the others had been sent to their different worlds. The Supreme Creator saw us and shook his head in disappointment.

“Your wandering has had you left behind. All the roles have been filled. I need to create another.”

That is when he gave each of us the roll of being guides for the lost souls of the dead.

Both of us, at first, worked together until a rich man did not want to get wet crossing the river. There was a boat and the man did not work for himself. He paid people to do physical labor.

He gave Charon a coin to punt the boat across the river. My brother clasped the coin and his greed was cemented. We parted ways.

Little did the man know, we both were transporting those souls to the other side of the river. Regardless of your destination, all we had to do is get you to the other side.

Charon has amassed a large fortune. What he has not grasped even after hundreds of years is the fact that we are not of the world. He has no concept of the fact that he has nowhere to spend his vast fortune. That does not matter to him, he’s wealthy.

Let’s just forget that greedy bugger.

I chose to use my senses to guide me. Since I did not have my brother to help attract those souls, I now carry my lamp on a pole so it attracts those souls like moths to a flame. Then I can send them on their way.

There is no care as to where they go. I know that I can lessen their anguish so I do feel fulfilled.

The only time I feel sad is when I am sent to a world at war. I was sent to a world where the green ones were being attacked by the white ones. Many a soul wandered looking for loved ones that may or may not be alive or dead.

I still remember that there were two souls. A brother and his older sister. They were trying to console one that lived. They only were causing more grief to that living one. I knew that they would be drawn to my lamp. I increased the intensity and slowly they left the man and came to my light.

The lore is that I really am a figment of people’s imagination. Just some self igniting swamp gas. That is as it should be. Only the most powerful mages can see me. Many have tried to order me but find out that they can see me but I cannot be controlled. Why do they try when it is a total waste of time.

The only one that can control me is the Supreme Creator.

Part of my role is to collect those spirits that have gotten lost and cannot see that they are lost no matter how bright my light is. These souls are usually the ones that do not realize or acknowledge their death. They have something left to do or have had sudden death.

Those souls need to be chased but unfortunately, some cannot be touched. They are doomed to wander the earth. Their unfulfilled quest is their only thought. There is absolutely nothing that I can grab on to. Those are the ones that cause me the most grief because they get thinner and thinner until they just disappear. Oblivion.

Over the millennium that I have been doing my job, those lost ones have been in my mind. It is my way of giving them a place. Even though they went to oblivion, I tell myself that at least someone will remember them.

It is only a comfort to me.

My brother is now here. He is complaining that I have caused him to lose his lucrative business. He is complaining the number of people wanting his service has now dwindled down to only a few every so often. He tells me that he is losing money.

I have had it.

“You fool, when is the last time, if ever you have spent any of the money you have? It is only bits of shiny metal, not worth a thing here.”

He grabs my hand and leads me to a place I never knew existed. There is a succubus retirement home where he has been spending his money. I do find that they just toss it away. They just want to feel like when they were young.

He still is dumber than a red brick.