. . .
After Reaper put togethera salad of shrimp, mango, and cilantro, all things I’d never tried before but quickly filled my belly with, they led me up a few levels and across a bridge to a large room that had no furniture or decoration. The floor was padded, thin sconces like the ones in Reaper’s bedroom were pinned to the walls every few paces.
Stuffed satchels hung from the ceiling in one of the corners and a few other scythes were hitting and kicking them. Others were spread along the mats talking or sparring with each other. All of their faces were still covered, their grunts and shouts were muffled beneath the black fabric.
“This is our training room.”
“I see that,” I said, watching two scythes wrestle on the ground. My heart pounded loudly. They wore no armor, though they were no less lethal. After a few moments, one nodded encouragingly at the other before slapping their forearm, pulling their weapon free of their skin and sweeping it through the air. The clang of metal clashing jolted me back. “What if they get hurt?”
“Impossible,” Reaper scoffed. “We are immortal and beyond that, invincible. You can’t kill what is death incarnate.”
“True.” I winced as I continued to watch them swing at and barely miss each other.
“Though, injuries still hurt us and take time to heal, so we always aim to avoid it. Every scythe is needed to keep up with the demands of our duties… Speaking of. Are you ready to try this?”
“Why here?”
“So I have space.” Reaper rolled back their shoulders, the muscles rippling down to their tattooed forearm. Wrapping their opposite hand around the inky scythe, they drew it forth, tapping it against the floor a few times before shadows began to spill out from their shoulder blades, slinking down their spine to the floor, seeping out into their rough and wild sea.
“Go ahead.”
I stepped forward, hesitating when a long thick arm reached from the ground and wrapped its fist around my tail feathers. It was like prickling static and I stilled, both scared and curious, watching the shadowy fingers stroke along the plumes before the rest of the form emerged, towering above both of us. A few other figures rose from the waves, hovering there and waiting. The scythes that had been training halted their punches and the slicing of their weapons, a galaxy of starry eyes all on me. Two wings splayed in my peripheral, and sweat beaded across my brow, my palms becoming clammy at my sides.
“Don’t be nervous.” Reaper extended their free hand. “Same thing you did with Sevren, we’ll see if any of the restless souls awaken.”
I wiped my hand against my feathers before placing my palm against theirs. “There are so many of them that need me.”
“Just start with one.”
Their thumb grazed the crescent where my thumb and pointer finger joined. When my eyes met Reaper’s, everything—the soulful sea, the glittering eyes, the room—it all faded away. “If it begins to take too much from you, we’ll stop.”
I closed my eyes, trying to silence my mind and the pounding of my heartbeat, searching for the notes of their salvation.
Rap, rap, rap.
Rap, rap, rap.
Reaching into myself, I wrapped around the steady pulse of the splendor’s shared beat, drawing on its new strength to imbue me with the courage I needed. I inhaled, embracing the vibration culled from the depths of my soul and began to sing.
I sang and sang, releasing every emotion into the wind and letting it carry as chords on the breeze, not opening my eyes when my skin pebbled with goosebumps or when gasps echoed through the room.
It was a melody of melancholy. A tune of tempting hope. A ballad of bold pleas.
A wish that they’d come to pass.
“I’ve got you, Lyric.” Reaper’s voice curled in my ear, and even though I’d never seen it, I could feel their smile, full of comforting warmth and fierce pride. “You’re doing it.”
I sang until my breaths became ragged, until my body sagged into strong arms.
“Slow down.” Reaper brushed sweat-soaked strands away from my face. My shoulders seared, pain streaking down my back.
“Lyric, that’s enough.”
I shook my head, continuing to croon despite the soreness that scraped up my throat, my chords churning into desperate rasps.
“Enough!” Reaper shook me until my eyes opened to find violent stars, bright flecks within the pitch of their stare, blinding me with their intensity.
I turned my face away, though I didn’t release from Reaper’s hold, certain I’d crumple to the floor. Everything hurt. My chest heaved against theirs. “I can do more.”