My stomach churned as I forced myself to stand. I might have thought it was a bad dream, but the place reeked of death, making me gag. I turned in a circle, taking in the bare, gray landscape and realized that there was no escape.
Was this where I belonged now, in this bleak afterlife?
Yet … I inhaled. Exhaled. Felt the breath on my face, my heart pounding, the sharp, cold ground beneath my feet. Surely, I wasn’t dead?
“Why am I here?” I spoke aloud, testing my voice. It sounded hoarse and unfamiliar even to myself.
The spirits drifted closer, their faces twisted into cruel smirks.
“The chosen one speaks,” they hissed in unison, snickering.
I shuddered from cold and fear. “What do you want from me?”
Gaping holes formed where mouths were and they shrieked, a piercing sound that felt as if it could shatter my bones as well as my eardrums. I fell to the ground with my hands over my ears, desperate to shut out the noise.
They circled around me as the sound of rushing wind increased and barreled through the arid land. As it grew stronger, the spirits’ shrieking changed from menacing to terrified. They split like tattered silk in the air, hissing as they were swept away.
I shut my eyes against the wind, and wispy fingers brushed my skin, sending ripples across my skin.
“Go away,” I whimpered.
“They are gone now.”
I opened my eyes. More spirits milled about me, but they were different from the ones before.
“What’s happening?” I asked, my voice trembling as much as my hands.
“You hold the key to our freedom.”
“And their destruction,” said another.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered as I stood, blinking back the tears gathering in my eyes from confusion and fear.
“You must cull the field and reap the four or be forever bound with us to this realm of darkness,” boomed another deep voice.
My flesh pebbled and my blood went icy as those words rang through me. Cull the field … Reap light and dark? Why was that so familiar? Oh, god. The prophecy!
Come, Reaper, and cull the field
Let your soul be split and darkness yield
Die within and die without
Four shall save thee and without doubt
Begin the culling and blacken the night
Reap the four and give birth to light!
“I don’t know what any of that means,” I cried, searching for any sliver of hope they might offer, but they remained silent.
Was I dead? Dreaming? The last thing I fully remembered was .... What was the last thing?
Panic set in, hard and fast, tightening my throat.
Memories surfaced in hazy bits, some warm, some terrifying. The bonding ceremony with Heath, Enzo, Riley, and Tor. The graveyard, the whirlwind, Gerald and Mazarin ...
“Maz!” I cried out, clutching the silver raven’s skull necklace I still wore, the one that had carried her spirit.
Another gust of cool wind swirled around me. Soft light began to glow, faint blue then soft white, until a transparent remnant of one I recognized appeared.
“You are not dead, Sierra,” Mazarin said softly. “You are here still, but you are between life and death, bound until you accept your role as the Reaper.”
I shivered. My role as a Reaper? I had no idea what that meant.
Mazarin’s ghostly beauty only added to the surreal quality of everything around me. Beyond her, came more like her, all of varying essences - some faint, like Maz, others glowing brightly.
“But what am I doing here?” I glanced around, wondering how much longer I could stay upright with my knees shaking so hard.
Hundreds of ghosts surrounded us, their faces calm and accepting. Each one nodded or murmured without words.
“You are here to learn, Sierra.” Mazarin escorted me through the gathering, waving a shimmering hand toward her companions. “You’re becoming a Reaper, like those before you.”
I squinted, trying to take it all in. “Reapers? I don’t understand.”
“You are a guardian and gatherer of souls,” Mazarin explained, “a guide for the transition between life and death. You’ll collect only those who are tainted by darkness, sending them back to their final resting place, while guiding any repentant spirits back into the light.”
Her voice echoed through the cold air, somehow frightening and exhilarating at once. One moment I was filled with dread, the next, anticipation.
But above all else, I was suddenly exhausted.
Maz smiled gently and touched a blue-tipped finger to my forehead.
The world went silent.
When I finally came to again, it was to the voice of another spirit, an ancestor named Leticia, who motioned for me to follow her. We passed through halls filled with misty faces that flashed by like old movies, as if they were moments frozen in time yet still so vivid. Their excited whispers followed me as I hurried past, trying to keep up with Leticia as she floated effortlessly through the twisting caverns and halls.
“Wait up! Where’s Mazarin?”
She didn’t answer, only looked back once with a tiny smile, her ghostly hand beckoning me forward.
“Where are you taking me?” I cried out again, but my questions were futile. I considered refusing to move until she answered, but I had a feeling she’d keep going, and I didn’t want to be stuck there alone. The taste of dirt and decay hung heavy in the air, mixing with the ozone and metal scent of ancient magic. The place reminded me of where I’d seen Gerald and Mazarin imprisoned.
At last, we reached a room filled with scrolls and tomes, some parchments fluttering like moths around us. Leticia guided me to one particular volume, its binding crumbling to dust as she pulled it closer. I could feel its power emanating from its decrepit pages.
“Thissss,” she said, her voice low and husky, “is your strength. Your new destiny.”
I flipped through the pages, watching spell after spell materialize before my eyes. My own magic bristled, aching to be set free in a way I’d never felt before - like hungry shadows dancing in my veins, eager for release.
