Hall Of Virtues: Fortitude

                                    

                                          
"How disappointing," a female angel says while looking down upon y/n as she sleeps.
"Disappointing? That was fucking hilarious and exciting," a male angel says all excited and starts laughing. "That's the most fun I have had since this last extermination."
"Adam, this isn't a joking matter. This is serious." 
"I know it is but, come on. Seeing her completely shitfaced was epic!:
"Her trials are done. She failed the Challenge of Temperance. Y/N is filled with the sin of Gluttony. Because of this, she does not belong here in Heaven. She has to be sent downward."
"But Sera, I mean Ma'am."
"No, Adam. This is how we decide whether a soul does or doesn't honestly belong here in Heaven." Sera says.
"Yeah, I know but, she passed the other three challenges with practically perfect scores." Adam says to Sera.
"I realize that Adam but..."
"Look just let her finish this last challenge. If she passes, I want her as an exorcist. If not, then I will send her to Hell myself." He pauses waiting for Sera to respond. "Come on, Sera. Just this once."
"Fine Adam. I will let her finish but, she has to make it through the Valley of Shadows unscathed and unaffected. If she fails, then you do what needs to be done. Understood? Adam?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now let's get this show on the road and going." Adam says as he and Sera look down from the clouds above the maze watching y/n on every task evaluating her.
I wake up and I am lying on the ground in the hallway of the maze again feeling perfectly fine. No longer feeling intoxicated, as if it were just a dream. I continue walking and I come up to another arch entryway with the word that reads 'Fortitude'. As I walk through the archway and appear in a daunting landscape, steeped in a profound silence broken by the howling winds that sweep through its barren expanses. The sky above is perpetually overcast with swirling gray clouds, casting the entire valley in muted, dim light. The terrain is rugged and uneven, with sharp rocks, steep ravines, and treacherous paths that snake through the ominous landscape undergoes a traumatic transformation. The stark, gray surroundings morphs seamlessly into a detailed recreation of my childhood home. The transformation is meticulous, down to the sound of a clock ticking in the hallway and the faint smell of pine cleaner. As you enter the warmly lit familiar kitchen, the setting sun casts long shadows through the window, bathing the room in a golden, albeit somber light. It's a place of nostalgia but, the atmosphere is tense, a stark contrast to the comforting visuals. I see my mom already seated at the kitchen table, which is laid out not with food but with various momentos of my childhood and early achievements: a report card with perfect grades, a science fair trophy, photographs of a more carefree time.  These items are not just decorations but, symbols of expectations and hopes, subtly underscoring my mom's perspective and the basis of their disappointment. My mom looks up as I enter, her face a complex tapestry of love, worry, and an unmistakable trace of sorrow. The air is heavy, charged with the anticipation of a difficult conversation. I take a seat opposite my mom, the familiar creak of the wooden chair sounding unusually loud in the tense silence.
Mom picks up a picture of my graduation day looking at it. "I always thought this day was the first step towards a secure future," Mom says softly, setting the photo down with a sense of finality.
"I know you did, and I appreciate all you've hoped for me," I respond my voice filled with empathy.
Mom start to speak and her voice begins to crack, "It's not just about the job or the prestige. It's about knowing you are safe, that you won't have to struggle or face dangers that you could easily avoid by choosing a different path." Mom points out to all the items on the table, "Look at all this. You had so many options, so many safer, surer roads."
I listen, truly listen intently as to every word she says. Seeing the anxiety on her face and in her voice and glancing down at the items on the table again. I look at Mom's face again. The weight of the years of unspoken fear and concerns hanging on her face. "Mom, I see all this," pointing at the items across the table, "and I understand why you worry. These memories remind us of different expectations and dreams. I know it hasn't been easy watching me choose a path that seems so uncertain to you." I lean forward across the table, my voice imbued with conviction. "But the path I've chosen is where I find my purpose. It's where I feel alive and most impactful. The challenges I face are tough, but they also bring out the best in me. Believe me, every risk I take is calculated. I'm not reckless. I train, I learn, and I prepare meticulously because I respect the dangers involved." I pause for a few moments, "I want to share with you not just the risks but also the successes. Let me tell you about the lives I have touched, the differences I have made. These aren't just achievements, they are markers of the positive impact of my work." I pull out my phone and scroll through photos and emails, snippets of gratitude from people I've helped. "See, this is why I do what I do. It's not about chasing the adrenaline; it's about making a meaningful difference."
I look at Mom's face and see the happiness yet worry still on her face. "How about this? How about we set up a weekly call? You can ask me anything about my week, my challenges, and what I've accomplished. I want you to feel part of this journey, not alienated by it." I reach my hand across the table, "I love you and nothing will change that. Your support means everything to me. Can we try this together?"
Mom, being moved by the openness and maturity of y/n's approach, reaches out clasping my hand, her eyes glistening with a mixture of pride and reassurance. With that the illusion gradually dissolves, the kitchen fading back into the shadowy contours of the valley, I feel a profound shift in my heart; a mixture of relief and strengthened resolve.
Adam glances over at Sera. "Well," Sera says, "y/n not only addressed her mother's fears but, have also fortified the foundation of their relationship, promising more openness and shared experiences."
"So, does that mean that she passed all the trials?" Adam asks. Sera remains silent for a while.  "Come on, Sera. What is your final decision?"
Sera takes a deep breath and looks down at y/n. "Looks like she passed."
Adam yells with a fist punch in the air, "Fuck yeah!"

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I was having a bit of writer's block. I hope this chapter isn't too boring. Hopefully from here on out it will just get more interesting. If you like it please give me a vote. Any comments or questions or anything on your mind about the story by all means drop me a comment. I will even accept any criticism even if it is bad just I ask you to not be rude. Thank you all for reading and I hope the next chapter will not be as long as it took for this one to come out. ❤