Mortana watched the fae king walk away from her back to his castle. The slump in his shoulders confused her. So far, she had only seen him arrogant and confident, even if it was primarily presented in a hostile way. She wondered what he could want to talk to her about but didn't have the time to figure it out now. She had business to take care of first.
Turning to the group of spirits standing beside her, Mortana summoned her scythe. A tool that she used to sever the ties of the dead from the mortal world. The metal was cold in her hands and felt heavy with all its secrets. As Mortana moved towards them, a gentle breeze stirred around her, carrying with it a whispering chorus of voices from those beyond. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, Mortana began to move through the group, connecting with each soul individually as she went.
This was the third group she had found tonight. How there hadn't been a reaper on an island this big when it was cut off from the rest of the kingdom, she didn't know, but they were ready to be set free and rest.
As Mortana spoke comfort and peace for each departed spirit, the air buzzed and crackled with energy. Her voice was mesmerizing, shifting between sorrowful sighs and joyful notes as it echoed across the graveyard. Every time she did this, it seemed to bring her closer to understanding what lies beyond her physical realm, although no matter how hard she tried to comprehend it completely, she still found herself lacking in answers.
A woman stood slightly apart from the rest of the group.
“I am here to guide you,” Mortana said softly.
The woman nodded, her dark eyes sad. “I’ve been waiting for so long,” she said.
Mortana felt a wave of sadness wash over her. She didn’t know how long the woman had been waiting. Perhaps longer than the island had been isolated, considering that its only inhabitant had been King Reidan.
“I’m here now,” Mortana said. “Let’s go.”
The woman nodded again and stepped forward, her body fading into the night. Mortana watched her go, feeling relieved that this spirit was finally free. But she also felt a sense of dread. She could feel two more spirits to find before she could rest.
Mortana turned and walked toward the next spirit. The path before her was dark and winding, filled with shadows and secrets. As she walked, her scythe seemed to whisper to her as if it knew more than it let on. Onwards she went, ever closer to her destination.
Finally, the path before her opened up, and Mortana saw the castle in the distance. Her heart raced as she approached it. Sometimes the call was for spirits who had already died a natural death, while for others, she was called to end their life. She hated how it felt as her scythe ripped a spirit from a living body. She could feel the resistance, and it grated on her own soul.
She stepped through the castle gate, eyes locking onto the rose garden. Her feet crunched over gravel as she made her way, and the pull in her chest drew her in further. Ahead of her lay a small gated section filled with fragrant, velvety rose bushes.
Mortana could make out figures in the shadows as she walked through the gate. When she was close enough, she could make out the shape of the old king himself and his queen standing in the courtyard. They were tall and elegant, and their faces were a mask of sorrow. Their spirits were identical to the bodies she had seen earlier on the coffin.
Mortana shivered as she stopped in front of him. She had finally found the last spirit, but what was she supposed to do now? This was the part she dreaded the most. Helping everyday citizens move on was generally simple, but more often than not, the nobility fought it. How was she supposed to convince the fae king to let go of the mortal world and move on?
The old king spoke, his voice warm and deep. “We’re glad you finally arrived. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Mortana was taken aback. She hadn’t expected the king to be so welcoming. She had expected resistance and reluctance, but instead, she found understanding.
The queen stepped forward, her eyes clouded with sadness. “You are the one we have been waiting for,” she said softly. “This kingdom needs you; our son needs you.”
Mortana swallowed hard.
She held up her scythe, waving it in front of them like a shield between them. “I already have enough responsibility on my plate,” she said firmly. “I don’t need anymore.”
The two fae looked at each other before the queen spoke again. “This kingdom is in turmoil, and it needs someone who cares deeply about its people and its future,” she said gravely. “It’s time to rise above your hesitations and take action for the greater good.”
The old king stepped forward and laced his fingers between his wife’s. He stared into her eyes and said, “One day she will understand, my love. Give her time.” His voice was comforting, and his gaze was unwavering as he spoke. His wife nodded gently, her trust in him unquestionable.
Mortana took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to do. She looked between the old king and queen, their eyes full of love and trust.
She raised her scythe and took a step forward. The air around her crackled with energy as she moved in closer.
The king smiled at her one last time, his voice confident but gentle as he spoke. “We are ready,” he said softly. “Please tell our son we love him dearly; we know he will serve our kingdom well.”
The queen nodded in agreement, laying a loving hand on his arm before turning back to Mortana with a slight smile. “Go now,” she said gently. “Do what must be done.”
Mortana felt a lump form in her throat, but she swallowed it down and stepped forward once more. She had never met them before, yet somehow she felt connected to them in a way she couldn’t explain.
She focused on the task at hand and sent her scythe through them both with one swift movement. At that moment, their spirits dissolved into nothingness and drifted away into the night sky until all that remained were two faint stars twinkling in the darkness.
Mortana stood there for a few moments longer before turning around and walking away.
Her chest suddenly felt lighter as the reaper’s call released her, and she felt drained and heavy. All she wanted was to go to bed and shut out how sad and empty she felt after releasing so many spirits in one night.
She trudged towards the castle, her heart feeling a little heavier with each step she took. She knew what she had done was necessary, but it didn’t make it any easier. As tears filled her eyes, Mortana whispered into the night sky, “I hope you find peace wherever you are.”
Mortana let her scythe dissolve into thin air as she approached the castle. Her steps echoed on the cold stone steps as she made her way to the second floor. She opened the door to her bedroom, her gaze landing on the bed with its fluffy pillows and soft blankets. She undressed and slipped on a light dressing gown, feeling the fabric brush against her skin. She crawled into the bed, pulling the sheets to her chin, and heaved a weary sigh. Despite her exhaustion, an overwhelming sense of sorrow still clung to her like an invisible weight.
She pulled the blankets over her head, shutting out the sound of cicadas outside and focusing instead on the gentle breeze blowing through the window, carrying a hint of honeysuckle from somewhere nearby.
The cool night air helped to calm Mortana’s racing mind as she drifted off to sleep, feeling strangely content in knowing that even though she had been forced to take life away tonight, she had given peace in return.
Mortana tossed and turned in her sleep, the darkness seeping into her soul.
Suddenly, a loud thumping startled her awake, sending her heart racing and her jaw clenching. The pounding got louder and more insistent until she let out a fierce growl and threw the covers off. She stormed to the door, ready to unleash her rage on whoever was foolish enough to disturb her rest. With an angry flick, she ripped the door open and snarled, “What?!”
King Reidan stood in the doorway, his fists clenched at his sides. His face contorted in anger, and his eyes shone with a fierce intensity that could have melted steel. This was the second time Mortana had seen the King in such a state, and it caused her to take a step back in fright.
“Why didn't you show up in the sitting room when I asked you to?” King Reidan said in a gruff and demanding voice.
Mortana refused to tell anyone, let alone him, that she was a reaper, so she remained silent and stared at the King defiantly.
“Answer me, Mortana,” the King said, his voice becoming harsher as he spoke. “Why didn't you obey my orders? Do you think you can ignore me and get away with it?”
“No,” Mortana replied, her voice strong and unwavering. “But I don't think I have to do everything you ask. I'm not a puppet to be manipulated at your will.”
The king's eyes narrowed, and he stepped into the room, coming face to face with Mortana. Mortana stood her ground, her gaze unbreaking from the king's as a heavy silence filled the air.
The King's eyes smoldered as he stepped closer to Mortana, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Her breath hitched as his gaze shifted to her lips. Mortana shivered; a sudden impulse to touch her lips to his hit her before the king finally stepped back, shaking off the spell that had descended upon them.
“I understand that you don't want to be here,” the King said, his voice softer now. “But we need to talk.”
Mortana looked away, knowing she couldn't tell the King the real reason why she hadn't shown up. She took a deep breath before finally turning to face the King once more.
“I'm sorry,” she said, her voice sincere. “I don't have an excuse. I should have shown up when you asked me to, and I apologize for not doing so. Would you like to talk now?”
Mortana watched in confusion as the king slowly stepped back, his eyes drifting from her face and lingering for a moment on her nightgown. She felt a wave of heat wash over her body and crossed her arms, feeling exposed.
The king cleared his throat and Mortana saw his jaw tighten before he finally spun on his heels and made to leave the room.
“Wait,” Mortana said, taking a step forward. “What did you want?”
The king stopped and turned to face her, shaking his head. “It can wait,” he murmured before turning away again.
Mortana felt a wave of frustration wash over her and she stamped her foot on the ground. “Why did you wake me up then if it can wait?” she asked, exasperated.
The king paused once more before turning back to her with an apologetic expression. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn't have disturbed your sleep.” And with that, he left the room, leaving Mortana alone in the dark, feeling confused and frustrated by the encounter that had just taken place.
Mortana walked towards the window, her gown trailing behind her, and peered out from the high tower. The courtyard was illuminated by the full moon, and a light breeze brushed against her face. The king had shown up so unexpectedly in the middle of the night - it must have been something important. She sighed and crossed her arms, leaning against the wall as weariness pulled upon her like a heavy cloak.
The hours that followed were a blur. The only image that remained in her mind was that of King Reidan staring at her with a heated expression as she stood in her nightgown. Mortana tried to shrug the memory off as she turned away from the window, threw on a robe, and headed toward the door. She was thirsty and needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy.
The corridor was dark and quiet as she stepped out of the room and turned towards the staircase. Mortana climbed down to the ground floor and made her way to the kitchen.
Mortana stood in front of the kitchen door, her heart beating faster than usual. She could hear pots and pans moving around inside, but it was too quiet for anyone to be there. She took a deep breath and opened the door quickly, half expecting someone to be in there.
But the room was empty. Mortana stepped into the kitchen, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as she looked around. The moonlight shone through a window above the countertop, and she noticed a figure standing on the other side of the table in the middle of the kitchen.
“Hello?” Mortana called out, her voice echoing off the walls. “Is anyone here?”
A woman's voice answered back, making Mortana jump. She turned around quickly to find an older woman standing in front of her with a wooden spoon clutched firmly between her hands.
“My apologies,” she said with a slight bow. “I didn't mean to startle you.”
“It's alright,” Mortana replied, embarrassed that she had jumped at such an innocent sound.
The woman smiled warmly and stepped forward, her apron swishing as she moved.
“My name is Helen,” the woman said gently. “I'm one of the cooks here at the castle.”
Mortana nodded, noting that Helen seemed to have an old-world charm about her. She couldn't help but feel drawn to her kind demeanor.
“It's nice to meet you,” Mortana said as she stepped closer and extended her hand. “I'm Mortana.”
Helen took Mortana's hand and gave it a firm handshake. As their hands touched, an electric current ran through Mortana's body and she felt a surge of power course through her veins. She quickly pulled away from the handclasp - what was that?
Mortana looked up at Helen with confusion in her eyes, but Helen just smiled knowingly before turning away and busying herself around the kitchen.
Suddenly, a chill ran down Mortana's spine as a realization hit her like a brick wall - she was a spirit.
Mortana's heart sank as the realization of her situation hit her. She had already released so many spirits tonight as a reaper, and she didn't want to do another one.
Before she called upon her scythe to do what was necessary, Mortana realized that she wasn't feeling the call of the Reaper inside of her. This time it was different - Helen was not meant for death.
Mortana took a deep breath and sighed, not sure how to proceed. She looked up at Helen, deciding to go with whatever fate was doing and see how things played out with this spirit.
“I just need something to take the edge off,” Mortana said, her voice barely above a whisper. “At home I usually bake when I'm stressed out.”
Helen laughed softly and nodded, her tight bun of gray hair bouncing a bit on the top of her head as she did. “Baking can be very soothing,” she said before turning back to the cupboards and pulling out a glass of water for Mortana. “What would you like to make?”
Mortana grinned, pausing to consider her options. “I think I'll go with chocolate chip cookies,” she declared.
“Great choice,” Helen said, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm. She gathered the ingredients and equipment they would need and spread them out on the kitchen counter. “Let's get baking!”
As they worked side by side in the kitchen, Mortana began to open up about what was bothering her.
Mortana stirred the cookie batter vigorously as she spoke, her anger rising with each passing second. “Can you believe it? The king practically broke down my door in the middle of the night! He could have easily waited to throw his ire at me for the morning.” She grabbed a handful of chocolate chips and threw them aggressively into the bowl. “I just can't stand it!”
“He's the king,” Helen offered. “He doesn't normally have to think of being considerate of others. It's his job to think of what is best for the kingdom overall and make the tough decisions. At least it was before...”
Mortana paused as she scooped dough onto a baking sheet waiting for Helen to finish.
Helen's eyes glazed over, “Never mind, it will work out.”
Mortana placed the cookie dough on the baking sheet and grabbed another scoopful of batter. She was determined to find out more about Helen, but wasn't sure how to bring it up without making her uncomfortable.
“So…” Mortana said casually, hoping not to pry too much, “How did you become a spirit?”
Helen's eyes widened briefly in surprise before she turned away, busying herself with washing dishes in the sink. “It's not my place to tell,” she said softly.
Mortana nodded, feeling guilty for pushing the topic. She continued to work on the cookies in silence until they were ready for baking. After popping them into the oven, Mortana and Helen finished the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen, and chatted about lighter subjects until the cookies were done. When Helen was ready to leave, Mortana walked her to the door.
“Thank you so much,” Mortana said as she handed her a warm cookie. “It helped to talk to you.”
“It's my pleasure,” Helen replied with a smile, “Any time. I feel that I should warn you now that you've seen me.”
“Oh?”
“I'm not the only spirit here. We saw you helping the lost ones tonight, but I have a feeling that now that things have started to happen you will begin to see the rest of us.”
Mortana was confused. “The lost ones?”
“Yes, the spirits of the dead.”
“Ah.” This was the first time Mortana had anyone see her work as a reaper. She fidgeted with her fingers unsure what to say.
Helen gently placed her hand on Mortana's, sending a small tingle through her once again.
“You did them a favor. We've felt horrible that we could see them but not help. Thank you.”
As Helen walked back to the kitchen, Mortana stared at her, trying to process what she had learned. She felt like there was more to Helen than meets the eye. Not only was she a kind and gentle soul, but she also seemed to keep many secrets close to her heart.