Page 32 of Reaper's Ruin
“No, I think I’ve got it,” I replied, smoothing my hands over the soft material.
The dress fit surprisingly well, but it was the neckline that really caught me by surprise. The bodice dipped lower than anything I’d normally wear, showcasing more cleavage than I’d ever displayed back home. As a nursing student who lived in practical scrubs and comfortable jeans, this kind of feminine attire was completely foreign to me.
Yet somehow, I didn’t feel exposed or uncomfortable. I felt... transformed.
“Wow,” I breathed, turning in a small circle and watching the skirt flutter around my legs. “I feel like I’ve stepped into another world.” I laughed at my own words. “I mean, I literally have, but you know what I mean.”
Selyse turned now, smiling as she assessed the fit. “The color suits you. It looks incredible with the red tones in your hair and your porcelain skin.”
I ran my hands over the fabric again, admiring the way it draped. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never worn anything like this.”
“No?” she asked curiously.
I shook my head. “Where I’m from, clothes are more... practical, I guess. At least mine were. Jeans, t-shirts, scrubs for work.” I gestured to the neckline with a slight blush. “Nothing quite this... revealing.”
“Do you feel uncomfortable?” she asked, concern crossing her face. “It’s the traditional Faeloran style that will help you blend in, but I can find something else—”
“No,” I said quickly, surprising myself with how much I meant it. “It’s different, but... I like it.”
And I did. There was something freeing about the flowing fabric, the way it emphasized curves I usually kept hidden under loose hospital scrubs. I felt feminine in a way I rarely allowed myself to feel. Beautiful, even.
Maybe it was because I was in a world where no one knew me. Where I didn’t have to be practical, responsible Soraya who always did the sensible thing. Or maybe it was because death had a way of making old insecurities seem trivial.
Whatever the reason, I found myself standing taller, shoulders back, embracing this new version of myself—even if only in borrowed clothes.
Selyse crossed her arms, assessing me fully. “You really look beautiful in that.”
“Thank you. Truly, for everything. The help. The clothes.” I gestured at the dress. “You really are a lifesaver,” I said, genuinely touched by her kindness to a complete stranger. Then I frowned. “Or a deathsaver I guess is more accurate since I’m, you know, not alive anymore.”
She laughed, and so did I, and it felt good to be able to joke about my... condition. The humor, however dark, was somehow healing.
As our laughter faded, I found myself voicing the question that had been circling my mind since I’d realized I was dead.
“Selyse... what do you know about the afterlife?” I asked hesitantly. “About what happens when souls go through their doors?”
Her expression softened. “You’re worried about your mother.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “Rhyker seems to think I can find her if I get my door. But what if... what if the doors lead to different places? What if she’s in Heaven—that’s what we call it in my world—and I end up somewhere else because I’m now in Faelora?”
Selyse guided me to a fallen log, and we sat together beside the stream. The sound of running water created a peaceful backdrop for a conversation about death.
“No one truly knows what awaits on the other side,” she said gently. “Not even sorceresses. Not even Reapers. But my mother taught me something I’ve always found comforting.”
She plucked a leaf from a nearby plant and let it fall into the stream. We watched as it was carried away by the current.
“All rivers, no matter how different their paths, eventually reach the same sea,” she said. “My mother believed the same is true of souls. There are many religions here in Faelora. Is it the same for the Mortal Realm?”
I nodded. “Yes, there are countless religions, each with their own beliefs, their own Gods. I’ve always wondered if there is one right religion, if they all are valid, or is it possible we’re all going to the same place?”
“I asked my mother this same question when my childhood friend died. She was a Vinelach, a tree people, and they believed something different than what I did. I worried I’d never see her again. My mother said she truly believes all religions go to the same place. Each one believes in a good afterlife or a bad, but they worship different Gods, believe different things. But in reality, whether we call it your Heaven, Solarium, the Great Beyond—these are just different names for the same destination.”
“You really think so?” I asked, desperate to believe her.
She nodded. “Death transcends realms. It is the one journey we all share, regardless of where we begin. Your mother’s door andyour door may look different, may be found in different places, but they lead to the same place.”
“How can you be sure?”
Selyse smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. “Because love is the strongest magic in any realm. And the love between a mother and daughter? That’s one of the most powerful bonds there is.” She took my hand. “If the stories are true, souls who loved each other in life find each other in death. Your mother will be waiting for you. I truly believe that.”
