Disclaimer: Just playing with the wonderful toys. Will turn the lights out when I go. All rights remain with Toby Whithouse, the writers of the series and the BBC.

What have we got left to look forward to? Us refugees. The flotsam and jetsam of death. Maybe, if we still deserve such a thing as mercy, we find each other.

– Annie Sawyer, Series 1, Episode 1

Chapter 5. The roads less travelled

Akareirya sat down again, facing Nick, and lent forward, smiling.

"So, Nick. I expect you have some questions. I trust that the re-constitution process wasn't unpleasant."

"Ah. Er. Well, yes, Mr Akareirya..."

His companion interrupted, cutting across Nick's bluster, "Just Akareirya. That is my first and only name. Surnames are a recent invention by my standards."

"Yes, well, ahm...," Nick clasped the goblet of tea with both hands as he screwed up his courage, " I'm dead then... aren't I? Proper dead?"

"Indeed you are." Akareirya gazed at him levelly – no sympathy but no hostility either. "What do you remember?"

Nick chewed his lip, thinking. Akareirya seemed to be the perfect gentleman but he wasn't sure that he wanted to spill his secrets just yet. This was beginning to feel like an interrogation, however gentile the circumstances were. He wanted to know what was going on. And to get back some of the higher ground.

"Akareirya, please would you be so good as to tell me where I am?" Nick enquired, careful to maintain the idiom which had been established. Akareirya spoke a little like Hal had done sometimes.

Akareirya frowned. "Do excuse me. Where are my manners?"

He thought for a minute before continuing.

"As you correctly surmise, Mr Cutler, you are 'proper dead' as you put it. You have reached one of the gateways which lie between the world you knew and the afterlife, such as it is. As I'm sure you can imagine, millions of people die on Earth each day, and they all have to be processed and sent on to the appropriate destination. We must do this efficiently, or the whole place would become like a refugee camp, and we must also do it correctly. Each person has to find their peace, so to speak, before they can progress, and for some that is more straightforward than for others. "

As Akareirya paused, Nick began to question him.

"What do you mean - find their peace?"

Akareirya, enthused by his student's interest, elaborated, "I mean, make a reckoning of their life. Good and bad. What they did to themselves. Their impact on others and how others impacted them. The choices made. .. They must seek to understand the roads which they have taken."

Nick started to splutter and tried desperately to turn it into a cough. That all sounded far too much like New Age mumbo-jumbo for him, thank you very much.

"And, if I may ask, are you 'proper dead' too? Have you been through this process?"

Akareirya shook his head.

"It's complicated. In that I am a vampire, I have died the first time but not the second. But I am old. Older than you could possibly imagine, and I have spent my long lifetime in study. The arts and sciences, the sum of human knowledge and the arcane sources, beyond the human world. Ancient histories and ancient wisdoms. My work led me here, though I am one of the very few who can cross between the worlds at will. Perhaps the only one."

Nick began to laugh openly now, doubling over.

You don't expect me to be that gullible, surely?"

"I do not think that you would understand, Nick Cutler. You lived a short vampire life and, whilst I applaud your interest in technology and progress, you have an arrogance towards learning from past experiences which is quite significant."

Bristling, Nick was ready with a retort, about medieval vibes and dinosaurs, but Akareirya raised his hand, silencing the younger man.

"I do not want to argue with you. I am not your enemy here but your counsellor. I will help you with both the case for the prosecution and the defence, though I am responsible for neither. If you would rather I didn't then that's fine. I will ask Richard to take charge and provide you with an opportunity for some gentle reflection. I'm sure he will be all too pleased."

He paused, eyeing Nick like a stern schoolmaster, as Nick failed to suppress the shudder that ran through him.

"You must be wondering where exactly we are, and why I choose to be here."

"Yeah. I mean... what's in it for you?"

Akareirya pursed his lips as he considered.

"Allow me to finish explaining the background to you. As I mentioned, this is a gateway, one of several. By default, humans, and resolved ghosts, step through doors when they die and those doors take them to the primary gateway. Werewolves also go down those channels, in the first instance.

At this point, most people pass on with the help of a mentor. Some, however, require specialist assistance. This includes most of the werewolves and those humans who have committed atrocities or who are unable to let go or heal for whatever reason. They are then seconded here to my team as we are sometimes able to assist them.

Vampires are a different matter. As you know, our kind does not get doors. Most vampires are progressed straight to their journey's end down the default channels. However, for a small number, the situation is more complex. They may have done great or terrible things or struggled with their humanity, for instance. For those vampires, there are choices to be made, and they also come under our jurisdiction. You are one of those vampires, Nick, and I am here to help you."

Akareirya stood, his jade tunic falling over the top of his black trousers, and reached for a simple woollen cloak.

"I will return in due course, Mr Cutler, when you have had time to absorb what I have told you and to take in your current situation.

Choose wisely, Nick. I would like to work with you, but that is your choice. "

Nick looked away, refusing to make eye contact, and, when he looked back, Akareirya was gone.