“It’s a bit more complicated than that. They were awakened only when Thieron was dismantled. Brendel was quick to toss them away afterward, I presume,” Death said. “But, once the pieces were dropped, the Reapers I tasked with protecting them would have refused to allow anyone to touch them.”
Taeral sighed. “What are we looking at, exactly?”
“Well, that should be part of the fun, shouldn’t it?” Death grinned.
“This isn’t fun for us. We’re trying to save our worlds,” I cut in, increasingly aggravated. She was still messing with us, and, while I understood the caprices of a godlike entity, it didn’t mean any of us had the time or the energy to put up with it.
“Sister, please,” the Word added.
Death nodded once, seemingly surrendering to her brother’s request. “The Widow Maker lives inside Eirexis. The Soul Crusher resides in Zetos. The Phantom is in Phyla. Each of them has been tasked with using their most precious assets and abilities to challenge anyone who would dare touch the three pieces of Thieron. I cannot tell you what they will do, exactly, because I don’t know. I’ve left it to them. I trusted them to be creative and perseverant enough to protect my scythe until the end of time, in the event that I might lose possession of it… regardless of the reason.”
“So that’s it? Good luck and farewell?” Taeral mumbled. I could almost feel the anger coursing through his veins as his grip on my hand tightened.
Death shrugged. “I know you’re used to being told everything prior to a mission, Taeral, but I’m afraid it won’t be like this with me. You either adapt or you die.”
“You don’t know where Thieron’s pieces are, and you don’t know what your three most loyal and powerful Reapers will do once the pieces are found,” the Word said. “Perhaps, in exchange for these monumental gaps in information, sister, you might at least be able to tell Taeral the truth about the weapon in his possession. I believe it’s your duty to lay out the truth about it, since it’s the only tool he has that may yield better results than those you’ve sent after Thieron before.”
Taeral and I exchanged confused glances, before questioningly looking back at Death and the Word. “What am I missing here?” Taeral asked, raising Yamani’s scythe. “Are you talking about this?”
Lumi nodded, wearing a soft and glowing smile. Death, by contrast, was almost black and white, with nothing but her red lips to give her color. She was also quite sullen, but still a wonder to look at. Part of me wanted to slap her silly for her moodiness, but the rest of me wanted to worship her.
“Look down, Taeral,” Death said.
He did. His eyes widened with shock. I followed his gaze and noticed how different his reflection was. I looked like myself, mirrored in the black marble, but Taeral… He didn’t have his GASP suit on, but a black leather tunic with a white collar and decorative details embroidered across his chest. In his hand, he carried a scythe, but it didn’t look like Yamani’s. Its handle was made from obsidian, encrusted with fiery gemstones, and the blade was much longer and wider. We were seeing another version of Taeral in that reflection, but none of us knew why.
“What is this?” Taeral murmured, unable to look up.
“That is you, once you die,” Death replied. “You see, Taeral, I have a system in place, and the truth of it is always revealed in my presence. My Reapers are selected from the moment they are born, based on a series of calculations and probabilities. It’s not a question of what great things they achieve during their lifetimes—well, not necessarily, not anymore. It used to be more important, but after I let the senior Reapers handle the selection process, which we all know to have turned out badly, I decided to change the selection criteria. It has become a matter of bloodlines and character, rather than anything else. And you, my darling, the rare son of a fae and a jinni, were chosen. When your life in this world comes to an end, you will become a Reaper.”
“Whoa…” Taeral breathed, finally finding the strength to look at her again. “What… What does that mean for me?”
“It means you will not pass into the world of the dead until I decide to relieve you of your Reaper duties,” Death said. “It also means that, unlike any other living creature that might touch that scythe you’re holding, you can actually use it to its full potential. You are destined to become a Reaper, and even Yamani’s scythe knows that.”
“Why do you think you were able to become invisible, even to Reapers?” the Word chimed in. “Why was Baethal so worried about you wielding the scythe against him?”
“He knew? They all knew?” Taeral asked.
Death chuckled softly. “You’re smarter than you look, my dear. Yes. Reapers know, deep down, when they meet future Reapers. It’s deeply embedded in their souls. One day, when you ascend into your role, you, too, will be able to recognize them before they even die.”
“How will this help me?” Taeral asked, his cheeks burning pink. I could only imagine the myriad of thoughts racing through his head, and I would’ve given anything to be able to ease some of the pressure off his shoulders. If there was one thing I’d learned to detest, it was seeing Taeral suffer or struggle like this.
“I take back my earlier assessment regarding your wits,” Death said, pursing her lips.
Lumi sighed, her voice still belonging to the Word. “You can use it against the three Reapers that guard the pieces of Thieron, Taeral. As a weapon, as an instrument, as whatever could help you get your hands on Eirexis, Zetos, and Phyla.”
So, at least we had that going for us, I figured. It was better than nothing, though a little bit more couldn’t have possibly hurt.
“Mind you, once you bring the pieces together, you will deliver Thieron to me. You will not have the capacity to wield it yourself,” Death warned Taeral. “It’s not your average scythe. It has threads of me in it.”
“I understand,” Taeral replied, nodding slowly. I could see the idea budding in the back of his head, and I probably wasn’t the only one, but no one else mentioned it again.
“You should also be aware that, while I may control the four Hermessi outside, I cannot say for sure that at least one of them won’t warn the others about what you’ve just accomplished here,” Death added, further hammering the nails into our future coffins. I hadn’t thought about the Hermessi since we’d set foot in this room. I’d almost forgotten about them. “The Hermessi, and Brendel, in particular, will stop at nothing until the ritual is completed. Right now, you’re the only thing standing between her and that objective. They will come at you with everything they have. It will get harder and bloodier and, while she may not be able to kill the three of you, she will keep you away from Thieron by whatever means necessary. Expect some bad news from home, soon enough, Taeral. But do not let anyone or anything stop you from this mission. I’ve put my trust in you.”
“Wait, what bad news?” Taeral asked.
Death, however, didn’t seem willing to explain. “Your friends are waiting for you outside. Go,” she said and snapped her fingers. An invisible force hurled all three of us out of the room. The doors slid wide open just before we would’ve rammed through them. We landed on our backs, sliding farther across the floor, while the screen doors closed, and the four Hermessi resumed their guardian posts.
Grunting, Taeral managed to get himself back into a seated position. “Wait! What news? What were you talking about?” he shouted at Death, but he couldn’t see her anymore.
Lumi moaned from the hard landing, blinking several times as I helped her back up. She was back to her old self, the glow completely gone from her. She seemed confused. “What just… What happened? We were in there, weren’t we?” she asked me.
I understood then that the Word had blocked her from the conversation, though I didn’t know why. Maybe its presence was too powerful in her body to leave any room for her consciousness, since there was no reason why it would keep her in a blackout.
“She is such a bitch!” Taeral burst as he got up. He quickly brushed aside his anger to focus on Lumi. “Are you okay?”
She nodded slowly. “I think so. I don’t remember anything.”
“The Word took over. I suppose you were cut off, completely,” Taeral replied.
The knowledge of this clearly baffled her. “It has been a long time since I’ve felt like this… What happened?” she asked, but a quick glance to her side, at the Hermessi, made her shudder. “You know what? Tell me on the way out. I don’t want to be here another second.”
“I don’t think we have any other choice, anyway.” Taeral sighed. “She gave us our assignment and kicked us out.”
We moved back through the hallway, eager to leave the palace and continue the mission. We didn’t have a destination yet, but we had a little more knowledge than before. As we walked, Lumi became more aware of her surroundings and the last thing she remembered.
“I heard the word ‘sister’ coming out of my mouth,” she said.
“Oh, yeah. Guess you didn’t know that part. Death and the Word are siblings, it seems, and they’re not the only ones,” Taeral replied.
