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.
“Let’s see if you can harness it.” Leticia placed her icy hand on my cheek, her gaze boring into mine. The touch sent a shudder down my spine as knowledge without words poured into my brain … who she was—another of my ancestors who had once been a failed Reaper; why Mazarin wasn’t with us—still in too weakened a state to help at the moment; and what they most wanted to show me—how to reach out and absorb the energies of spirits who’d passed through this realm.
I tried to focus as she silently transferred her memories to me. Memories of how to find lost souls and former Reapers within the haze of ethereal beings hovering around us.
I gazed about the room, and they slowly appeared before me the more I drew on my ancestor’s knowledge. Their eyes followed me like moths to flame, eager for my touch despite their fragile forms. But something about the task felt wrong ... heavy ... As if I was taking more than their energy.
My head swam with conflicting emotions as I pulled more power than I’d ever dreamt possible into myself. It was too much. I needed grounding, somehow. My mind desperately flailed for answers, for protection against the onslaught of memories and powers not my own.
It was more overwhelming than even the bonding ceremony had been.
The bonding.
Suddenly I missed my mates in a way that took my breath. I missed their warmth and laughter, the way they wrapped themselves around me. Even the way they pissed me off sometimes. Their presence would’ve been enough to make this whole thing feel less ... hollow. I pulled deeper into the memory of their warmth until I was finally able to breathe deeply and evenly again.
When I opened my eyes, Leticia was smiling.
“You are doing well, Sierra,” she whispered. “We will rest briefly. Soon you will be ready for another teacher.”
“Another teacher?”
