Banished Divinity: Learning to be Human

The restaurant was obscene.

That was the only word for it. Obscene. Excessively, unnecessarily, offensively fancy.

The private lift had velvet walls.

Velvet. Walls.

I had not known such a thing existed. I had fought demons across many dimensions. I had seen castles made of crystal and palaces floating on clouds. But velvet walls on a lift? That was new. That was uncomfortably new. I half-expected the lift to offer me a glass of expensive spiritual liquid and ask about my spiritual investment portfolio.

Which, by the way, do I even have one?

When the doors opened on the 37th floor, I stepped into a world of marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and waiters who moved so silently they might as well have been ghosts themselves. Which, frankly, was insulting to ghosts. Human Sera made more noise than these people, and she was actually dead.

Human Sera whistled low—a sound that echoed through the restaurant which no one can actually hear.

"Oh man," she said, floating through a waiter who shiver for a fraction of a second. "I know Minjae's family is rich, but this is too much. OMG! I can't be here. This is too fancy! I'll wait outside."

"You're going to leave me now?!" I whispered, horrified.

"Well, yeah..." She floated backward, her ghostly hands raised in surrender. "This is not my reason for meeting Jaehyun, and it's Minjae. Like, eww... I can't stand seeing him like that. Did you notice he smiled? Like, really smiled? Like you are his universe smiled? Ewww... gross... I think I need to puke. Okay, bye."

Ghosts do not puke. I was sure of this. I had read extensively about ghost biology—or rather, the lack thereof—and vomiting was not a feature. But Human Sera floated away anyway, her translucent form shimmering with disgust.

Well, not really away.

She decided to nose around the restaurant instead, and I could hear her very loudly commenting on everything like a food critic who had been possessed by a very angry squirrel.

"WHAT THE SHIT!" she shrieked from somewhere near the bar. "Look at the menu! There is no price! SERA!! THERE IS NO PRICE!! What the hell... that's too much! Are you even listening? Oh well, guess not, 'cause you are busy ignoring me. Like whatever… I shall ignore you too by floating further away…"

She floated further away.

She lasted approximately four seconds.

"OMG! Look at the décor! It's made of gold! I think I can get Sera to steal some when she gets her power back—if she gets it—and Mum and Dad can retire like mortal queens and kings. Mina? She's on her own."

She paused. I could hear her gasping.

"OMG!! Is that enough for you, madam? That portion is like for an ant. I mean, I am a ghost, so I don't eat, but that portion would not even satisfy me. And I don't have a stomach! Damn!! This is too much. I need to lie down. On a gold chair. Which I cannot sit on. Because I'm dead. THIS IS TORTURE."

I sighed. Deeply. Celestially. The kind of sigh that echoed across dimensions and made minor deities feel inadequate.

"I cannot believe this," I muttered.

"Cannot believe what?" Minjae asked softly, looking at me with those annoyingly attentive eyes.

"Nothing," I said. "I was talking to the air. The air is very judgmental today."

"The air?"

"Yes. It has opinions. About velvet."

Minjae blinked. Then he nodded, as if this was a completely normal thing to say. "Right. Velvet opinions. Of course."

---

As the hostess led us to our table, I looked around the restaurant with new eyes.

Humans, I thought, really know how to make themselves fancy. Maybe they learned it from the Tribunal, because the Tribunal is fancy too. Oh! Would someone from the Tribunal be here?! Maybe this is the place where the members of the Tribunal come to enjoy themselves when they're not busy judging the fates of entire dimensions.

Maybe they're in the back. Eating expensive food. Laughing at mortals. Using velvet napkins.

I straightened my back and scanned the room like a warrior surveying a battlefield. My celestial gaze swept across the marble floors, the crystal chandeliers, the gold-plated everything. I was looking for threats. I was looking for allies. I was looking for anyone who didn't look like they belonged in a magazine about rich people doing rich people things.

That was when I saw her.

A lady sitting alone at a table near the window. She wore a beautiful white dress that probably cost more than my entire education. Her dark brown hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, like she had just stepped out of a shampoo commercial and decided to stay.

As I made my way to my seat, she looked up.

Her eyes.

Oh, my.

Her eyes were brown, but they sparkled like diamonds. Like stars. Like someone had bottled the essence of a thousand galaxies and poured them into her irises. I had seen that sparkle before—in the eyes of beings who had witnessed the birth of universes, who had watched stars explode and civilizations crumble, who had eaten ambrosia for breakfast and washed it down with the tears of lesser gods.

Maybe she is one of the Angels of the Final Threshold, I thought. The ones who help souls pass while comforting them. The ones who sing lullabies to dying stars. The ones who probably have excellent skincare routines.

She was alone.

Perfect, I thought. An angel. Alone. In a restaurant. Eating... whatever angels eat. Probably ambrosia. Or the hopes and dreams of mortals. Or maybe just a very expensive salad. Either way, this is my moment.

If she's really an angel, maybe she can help me with stating my case too.

This is perfect. This is fate. This is—

I sat down—across from Minjae, but positioned so I could still see her. I stared. I stared with the full force of my celestial gaze, the stare that another celestial being would recognize instantly. The stare that said, "I see you. I know what you are. We are the same. Also, do you know anything about marginal utility?"

"Ooooh… She is pretty," Human Sera appeared from nowhere and was beside me.

I jumped at her appearance and whispered, "I thought you decided to disappear?"

"Well, yes and no. I tried that golden chair and obviously I went through it. Then I saw you looking at that pretty lady with those interesting eyes of yours—which you always call 'my celestial vision'—and I decided to just check her out."

The lady looked back at me.

She didn't flinch. She didn't look away. She didn't give any awkward feedback at all.

She just... blinked.

And then she took a sip of her wine.

Strange, I thought. Mortals would be uncomfortable with my stare. They would squirm. They would look at their phones. They would pretend to be interested in the ceiling.

But this lady, this angel, has no reaction.

So maybe...

Maybe she IS an angel.

I could cry with happiness.

Finally! A kindred spirit! Someone who understands the burden of cosmic existence! Someone who won't look at me like I've grown a second head when I mention the Tribunal! Someone who—

I can state my case. I can ask for early release. I can go back to the celestial realms and then I can leave as soon as possible.

Because I have economics as my first paper on MONDAY.

MONDAY. Do you understand the significance of MONDAY?

I need to get out of here.

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Emotional tears. Not the "I fell down the stairs" tears. Not the "Dad is crying again" tears. The "I have found my people and also I have an exam" tears.

"OMG! Are you like crying? Don't you dare cry, Sera. We did amazing work this morning. Don't ruin this moment!" Human Sera looked at Minjae and gagged, then continued, "Then again, it's not for him. Okay, carry on crying."

"So," the waitress appeared beside us, materializing out of nowhere like Dad but with better timing and less emotional baggage, "are you both ready to order?"

I looked up, startled. I had been so preoccupied with my angel revelation and Human Sera's annoying ranting that I hadn't heard a word Minjae had said. He could have been reciting poetry. He could have been explaining the entire plot of a serial killer drama series. And I would have missed all of it.

"We would like the house pizza," Minjae said, closing his menu without even looking at it. "And maybe two glasses of water."

Okay, I thought. That was fast. Suspiciously fast. Did he even look at the menu? Is he psychic? Does he have menu-reading superpowers? Another thing to add to my observation log.

"Right, sir." The waitress smiled and left, probably to go judge us in the kitchen. I could hear her whispering to the other waiters: "Table seven. The weird girl and the guy who didn't read the menu. Keep an eye on them."

"So," Minjae said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table—which was probably against some fancy restaurant rule, but I didn't care, "what do you think of this place?"

"What do you think? He is asking you what you think? That is so lame. Isn't it obvious?" Human Sera rolled her eyes.

I ignored Human Sera and looked around again—but gave another few seconds to look at the angel, just in case she needed to reaffirm something for me. A nod. A wink. A subtle hand gesture that only celestial beings understood.

She did nothing. She ate a breadstick.

Maybe the signal comes after the breadsticks, I thought.

"Well," I said, speaking slightly louder so the angel could hear, "I do not know what this place is. It seems mortals are influenced by the Tribunal's taste for luxurious things. I, a warrior, would not indulge in things like this."

The angel did not respond.

She took another bite of her breadstick.

Maybe she's deaf, I thought. Angels can be deaf. It's not a disability. It's a... selective hearing enhancement. For filtering out mortal nonsense.

"Hmm... it's a bit too much, huh?" Minjae sighed, looking disappointed. His shoulders sagged. His face fell. He looked like a puppy who had been told there would be no treats today. "Sorry, I didn't ask you what you prefer. I thought maybe you could see the view of the whole city from here. I guess I should have brought you to a normal pizzeria."

He started to stand up.

"Maybe we should cancel our order. I know a nice, really cozy—"

"Minjae. Is that you?"

A voice cut through the restaurant like a blade through silk. Or like a mother cutting through her child's excuses. Same energy. Same ability to make grown men freeze in place.

We both turned. Well, all three of us, including Human Sera, turned.

A man was walking toward us.

He wore a dark, very expensive suit—the kind that probably buy Mum and dad's house, including the sad potato in the drawer. His hair was black, perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. His eyes were ash grey, like storm clouds over a mountain range. He was about a few inches taller than Minjae, which made him approximately the height of a very tall tree or a small building.

He moved with the kind of confidence that came from either great power or great wealth—or both. Or maybe he just had really good posture and a very expensive tailor.

"OMG!! That is a supermodel over there. I mean, a rich, damn handsome supermodel over there… Okay, this place is too much… this is so out of my league. I am leaving now. Bye." Human Sera floated past the man, took a good whiff, blew a raspberry kiss, and floated away while saying, "Why must I be dead at this point? I would have hugged him and taken a photo and bottled up whatever he is using. Damn! He smelled good. Now, where is that velvet lift? I need to stand there and check out if there are any more outwardly handsome men coming out of that lift."

I totally ignored Human Sera because I was focused on the man as he made his way to our table. I took a good look at him.

And then my brain stopped working.

I knew that face.

I had seen it a few times throughout the centuries, when I passed through the realm of the Linchpin King who guarded that dimension. Valerion was his name. Tall. Dark. Brooding. The kind of king who stared dramatically into the distance while his hair fluttered in an invisible wind.

The last I had heard, he had been banished through reincarnation. Cursed to never remember anything of his former existence. Cursed to live as a mortal who probably worried about things like taxes and traffic and whether his suit was expensive enough.

And here he was. Standing in front of me. Talking and smiling and wearing clothes that were so mortal.

Not normal mortal like Mum, Dad, and Mina. Not the kind of mortal who clipped coupons and argued about whether the electricity bill was too high. Not the kind of mortal who had a sad potato in the drawer because no one wanted to throw it away.

No.

This was the kind of mortal who had a wine cellar. And a vacation home. And probably a collection of antique something-or-others that no one was allowed to touch.

This reminded me of something Mina once said.

---

Flashback: Few months or was it weeks?..

We had been watching Crazy Rich Asians—well, I had been watching it under duress, because Human Sera had screamed into my ear for forty-five minutes until I agreed.

"SERA, IT HAS CRAZY IN THE TITLE! IT HAS ASIANS IN THE TITLE! IT HAS EVERYTHING WE LOVE!"

I had pressed play without a word. It was easier than arguing.

Mina had joined midway, armed with popcorn, fried chicken nuggets, and an unhealthy amount of judgment. She had flopped onto the couch beside me, kicked her feet onto the coffee table, and immediately started critiquing the wardrobe choices of everyone on screen.

"Her dress costs more than my entire existence," Mina had said, pointing at the screen with a chicken nugget.

"That dress is gorgeous," Human Sera had shrieked, floating upside down above the TV. "I would have worn that to my wedding. If I had a wedding. If I wasn’t dead.."

I said nothing. I just stared at the screen.

Mina glanced at me. "You're quiet."

"I'm watching."

"You're never this quiet."

"she's right. you're never this quiet. are you feeling okay? do you need water? should i fetch moo moo??" Human Sera asked.

I gave the tiniest shake of my head. Mina didn't notice.

---

"So," Mina had said a few minutes later, pointing her fork at the screen like a weapon, "rich people."

" oh boy, here we go. mina's about to drop some knowledge. or nuggets. probably both.." Human Sera rolled her eyes.

I remained silent, my face neutral.

"Sera, rich people do not stay in houses like us." Mina had gestured vaguely at our modest living room, at the mismatched furniture, at the framed B on the wall that Mum still refused to take down. "They have, like, a few hundred over-the-top houses. Mansions. Compounds. Estates. Places with names."

" like 'shadowfell manor' or 'crystal peak estate'?" Human Sera had gasped. "^I’ve always wanted to live in a place with a dramatic name!"

"Yeah. Like 'Villa Rosa' or 'The Chateau' or 'Serenity Falls,'" Mina continued. "Not '123 Maple Street.' They don't have addresses. They have destinations."

"DESTINATIONS!" Human Sera had swooned, pressing her ghostly hands to her ghostly heart. " imagine getting mail that says 'to the occupant of shadowfell manor.' i would frame every letter and then haunt the mailman for more."

I blinked. That was all. A single blink.

Mina took it as agreement. "Right? It's insane."

"Inefficient.” I had said quietly.

"INEFFICIENT? SERA, IT'S GLAMOROUS! DON'T LISTEN TO HER, MINA. GLAMOUR IS THE POINT!"

"INEFFICIENT?" Mina had echoed, throwing her hands up. "Sera, these houses have at least fifteen bathrooms and ten bedrooms or more."

"FIFTEEN BATHROOMS?" Human Sera had shot up to the ceiling like a startled firework. " i could have my own bathroom! i could have a bathroom for each day of the week and then some! i would never have to wait for mina to finish her twenty-minute showers again!!"

"Fifteen bathrooms?" I had asked, my voice flat. "Who needs fifteen bathrooms?"

"I KNOW." Mina had thrown her hands up higher. "Like, who is pooping in all those bathrooms? Is there a designated pooping bathroom? A guest pooping bathroom? A bathroom just for show? What is happening?"

" maybe they have a bathroom for each mood," Human Sera had suggested, floating down to sit cross-legged on the coffee table. " a sad bathroom. an angry bathroom. a bathroom for when you've eaten too much spicy food, like eww… and regret everything. i would use that last one a lot.."

"Maybe they have large families," I had offered.

"Large families of what? Elephants?" Mina had squinted. "Even elephants don't need fifteen bathrooms."

"ELEPHANTS WOULD ONLY NEED ONE BATHROOM," Human Sera had added helpfully. "A VERY LARGE ONE. WITH A VERY LARGE TOILET. AND A VERY LARGE ROLL OF TOILET PAPER."

"Elephants would only need one bathroom," I repeated, my voice expressionless.

Mina had stared at me. "Why are you talking about elephants?"

"BECAUSE ELEPHANTS ARE RELEVANT, MINA. ELEPHANTS ARE ALWAYS RELEVANT."

I shrugged. "The movie made me think of elephants."

"There are no elephants in this movie."

"Maybe there should be."

Mina had narrowed her eyes. "You're weird."

" She's not wrong," Human Sera had giggled, doing a little spin in the air. " but weird is good. weird is interesting. boring is the real crime.."

I said nothing. I just stared at the screen.

---

Mina had taken a breath, winding up for the main event.

"And the cleaning, Sera. The cleaning. Mum would certainly end Dad's life and ours if we ever had such a house. She'd hand us each a mop and say, 'You will know the meaning of hard work, you ungrateful children.' Then she'd lock the doors and not let us out until every one of those fifteen bathrooms sparkled."

"I WOULD SIMPLY FLOAT THROUGH THE DOOR," Human Sera had declared proudly. " perks of being dead. mum can't lock in a ghost. HA!"

"I would simply run away fast," I had said.

Mina had snorted. "Yah right. You start breathing like a hibernating bear after climbing those stairs, and you're thinking of running away?"

"She’s not wrong," Human Sera had added, floating over to examine Mina's nuggets. " i've seen you climb stairs. it's like watching a dying whale try to scale a mountain. also, are those chicken nuggets? they smell amazing. i miss nuggets. being dead is the worst.."

Mina had leaned closer, her eyes wide. "And where would you run to? The fifteenth bathroom?" She had shaken her head. "It's a prison of luxury, Sera. A gilded cage with too many toilets."

"A GILDED CAGE!" Human Sera had clutched her chest. "THAT SOUNDS SO ROMANTIC AND ALSO TERRIFYING. LIKE MARRIAGE. I'VE NEVER BEEN MARRIED, BUT I'VE WATCHED ENOUGH DRAMAS TO KNOW."

"But no, Sera." Mina had held up a finger, her eyes gleaming. "Rich people don't clean. Rich people have maids."

"MAIDS?" Human Sera had perked up, zooming closer to Mina's face—not that Mina could see her. "LIKE IN DOWNTON ABBEY? WITH THE APRONS AND THE JUDGMENTAL GLANCES AND THE SECRET DRAMA IN THE SERVANTS' QUARTERS? I WOULD WATCH THAT SHOW FOREVER. OH WAIT. I DID. MULTIPLE TIMES. BEING DEAD GIVES YOU A LOT OF FREE TIME."

"How many maids?" I had asked.

"A few hundred maids."

"A few hundred?"

"A FEW. HUNDRED. MAIDS." Mina had grabbed my shoulders, her nugget momentarily forgotten. "Imagine, Sera. A hundred people cleaning up after you. Picking up your socks. Washing your dishes. Judging you silently because you left a crumb on the counter, and now they have to write a report about it."

"A REPORT!" Human Sera had gasped, doing a backflip in the air. " I once left a crumb on the counter and mum made me clean the entire kitchen with a toothbrush. a toothbrush, sera. for one crumb. i was grounded for a week. I didn't even get a report. just suffering."

"Maids write reports?" I had asked.

"IN THEIR HEADS, SERA. IN THEIR HEADS." Mina spoke with gusto.

" Their brains are probably huge," Human Sera had whispered reverently, pressing her ghostly hands together. " like walnuts. but bigger. and more judgmental. i bet they notice everything. every single crumb. every single sock on the floor. every single time you forget to flush.."

Mina had released me and fallen back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like a soldier who had seen too many battles.

"Rich people live in a different world, little sister. A world where bathrooms outnumber people. Where maids have shift rotations. Where the phrase 'casual Tuesday' still involves a tie that costs more than our rent."

"I once wore a tie to school," Human Sera had added, floating in lazy circles around the ceiling fan. "The teacher asked if I was going to a funeral. I said Yes. My own. Because I was eight. I thought it wasa very funny. I was not. The Teacher called mum. I was grounded for a month. BUT!! WORTH IT."

Mina had turned to look at me, her face grave.

"If you ever become rich, Sera, I want a bathroom named after me. Not a wing. Not a room. A bathroom. With my name on the toilet."

"I WANT A BATHROOM TOO!" Human Sera had shrieked, zooming around the room like a very excited firefly. " name it after me! the human sera memorial restroom! i want a plaque! i want flowers! i want one of those little soap dispensers that looks like a shell! and i want a gold toilet! a gold one, mina! with diamonds! and maybe a small chandelier!

"Why the toilet?" I had asked.

"Because that's where I do my best thinking." Mina had grabbed another nugget. "Now shut up and watch the movie."

"SERA, TELL HER I WANT A DIAMOND TOILET!"

I said nothing.