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He didn't know himself, and that was where the problem started. It had nothing to do with his father, who had never been there for Rayan. After all, you couldn't miss something you never had. What hurt him, though, was not knowing.
All his life, he believed his father was some foreigner who didn’t want to stay. He never understood his mother’s insistence that the man she fell in love with was a good person. She never blamed the guy and always pretended the circumstances were unavoidable.
Rayan never understood why she defended someone who left her to raise their son alone. In his darkest moments, he would blame her for driving his unknown father away. But she was all he had, and he could never stay mad at her for long.
Then, she left him too; and now, his father wanted to have a relationship with him. He thought not. Yet, a spark of curiosity had been ignited in his heart, and he tried to correct that wrong by discovering his heritage. It might be unbelievable, but his mind had already accepted the truth. He only needed to confirm it. How he would do it, though, was still unclear.
"Hey, watch it," Rayan said, startled out of his stupor by a stranger who bumped into him. Some fault lay with him, as he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings, but he wasn't in a generous mood. “Can’t you see when someone is right in front of you?”
"Excuse me, I wasn't paying attention. I’m so sorry about that," the woman said politely.
Her soft voice and sincere apology mellowed him. Her long red hair hung loosely over her shoulder, and her big green eyes seemed to be looking into his soul. Her sweet smile demanded his attention. He couldn’t help but admire the woman.
Shaking his head as if trying to stay awake, he reminded himself not to fall for the allure of her beauty. Yet, the spell was cast, and he couldn’t help but soften his voice. "It's okay. I wasn’t paying attention either.”
He tried to avert his eyes because he had this strange feeling that if he met her gaze again, he wouldn't be able to look away. There was no point in dragging the encounter. Ignoring the odd sensation, he started walking away. He didn't have a destination, but staying put wasn't an option.
"Wait up," the woman said, following him, "it seems we're going in the same direction. May I walk with you?" She tilted her head as she looked at him with humor in her stare.
An odd thought occurred to him, and for a second, he felt like he would do anything she asked. A quick shudder ran through his body, but he ignored the irrational emotion.
Shrugging, he kept walking because it didn't matter to him. If the woman wanted to walk with him, why not? It wasn’t like he had anywhere important to be. He was returning to his hideout, where he would stay for two weeks before finding somewhere else to go.
The woman might be beautiful, but he was on the run from his problems. The luxury of dating wasn't in the cards for him. Not that he could automatically assume she would date him if he asked. The thought of Sameer teasing him about it made him smile. He missed his friend and regretted not confiding in him. Yet, he knew it was better if Sameer didn’t get involve in his mess.
The woman probably took his silence as an invitation because she said, "What's your name?"
He didn't like the question but couldn't help answering either. "My name is Rayan," he said and then regretted giving her his real name. She could be a spy working for his father. Even though he understood the risks, something compelled him to answer her truthfully.
He sighed inwardly, telling himself he was being paranoid. The woman couldn't possibly be related to his father. Even if she was, it wasn’t a life-or-death situation. His father couldn’t be a dangerous man. Never in all her stories had his mother mentioned anything remotely violent. Yet, running away was Rayan’s first instinct, and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.
"Nice name," she said, and he looked at her, momentarily forgetting himself. She continued, "I'm Meena, by the way. Not that you asked."
She was overly friendly—a trait he wasn't fond of. Trying to remain cordial, he said, “Nice to meet you, Meena.”
When she gave him another flirtatious smile, he reminded himself that it was his first human interaction in three days. He might as well enjoy the company and attention that came with it.
"Do you mind me asking what you are?"
Her questions startled him, and he stared at her dumbfounded. The way she used the word what instead of who made him shudder. Although knowing what he was, the question made sense. Yet, she couldn’t have guessed that.
"Excuse me?" he said, wondering if he heard her wrong or if she implied something else. She looked foreign. Maybe she meant who and not what, anyway. Doubt seeped into his thoughts. Had he made a mistake by lowering his guard?
He stopped abruptly and faced her. There was no point in speculation when he could confirm it. No longer averting his eyes, he looked directly into hers when he asked, "That's an odd way of posing such a question."
"Nah, it's only natural. I'm curious, that's all," she said, waving her hands as if dismissing his concerns. "Are you a warlock or maybe a fairy?” Tapping her chin with her index finger, she squinted at him. “Usually, I can tell by looking at someone, but with you, I can't. So, tell me, Rayan. What exactly are you?"
When he stared at her speechless, she said, "I know you're not human, so let’s not pretend. It's obvious from your aura, but I can't place you." She continued studying him with a thoughtful expression. As if as an afterthought, she added, “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay.”
But it was her other statement that had his attention. After a long pause, he said, "You can see my aura?" Only then noticing that they were standing under a cherry tree. It was a clear, sunny day, and a light breeze touched her hair, making them dance. He wasn't sure why he noticed that, but he was drawn to her for some reason.
"Yeah, I can. I'm a half-witch and a half-Grim Reaper." She answered the question before he could even ask.
The confidence in her claim made him envious. How comfortable she could claim her identity, yet he struggled with his. Keeping his composure, Rayan said, "That's interesting." Encouraged by her openness, he told her the truth about himself. "I'm also a half-Grim Reaper." Saying it out loud made it all the more real and he was momentarily stunned.
Once again, the feeling of dread came over him. Something wasn't right about the situation. How could he come across another half-Grim Reaper soon after discovering about his father’s side of the family?
He wasn't a suspicious person by nature. Unlike Sameer, he gave people the benefit of the doubt. Yet this woman was making him uncomfortable. He could feel an underlying energy flowing between them, which made him watchful.
"Oh, wow!" she said in an exaggerated surprise, solidifying his distrust. Keeping the over-the-top cheerfulness, she ignored his serious expression. "So, that's why I felt such a connection to you. We share some of our powers. Of course, being a witch means I'm much more powerful than you. But we are both half-Grim Reapers. Imagine that."
Her weird reaction aside, the information gave him pause because he didn't know anything about possessing powers. He wasn't even sure what it meant to be half-human and half-Grim Reaper. On autopilot, since he read his father's letter, everything he did was on pure impulse and nothing more. She was telling him that he had powers. That might explain why his father wanted to get in touch with him after all this time.
"From your shocked expressions, I can tell you don't know how powerful you are. Do you have any idea what abilities you possess?"
Her question brought him back to reality. "I have only recently found out about being a half-Grim Reaper. Honestly, I don't know much—or anything. Until a few days ago, I didn't even know supernatural beings existed. Then, I discovered my father is a Grim Reaper, and now, I'm talking to another supernatural being. It's all crazy." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and turned away from her. Sighing, he looked toward the sky. Had he lost touch with sanity?
She chuckled, moved closer to him, and took his hand in hers. He felt a slight tingling sensation when she touched him and wondered if it was just his imagination or something more.
She smiled at him and said, "Let's go somewhere more private, where we can relax and talk."
He noticed the subtle flicker of her eyes and the faint glow of her fingers. But before he could react or do anything, they were both indoors. Instead of staring at the sky, he looked at the low ceiling. If it were Sameer in his shoes, he would have panicked. But Rayan’s nerves were stronger than his friend's. Instead of panicking and making his situation worse, he took a deep breath and looked around, taking in his new surroundings. It was most probably Meena's house. They were standing in what could only be a drawing room.
Collecting his thoughts, he looked at the woman who had magically transported them to a different place. Without meaning to, his voice came out in a whisper when he said, "What just happened?"
She didn't answer right away and pointed toward the sofa. When he didn't move a muscle, she said, "Relax, take a seat, and I'll make tea for us. If we’re going to talk, we might as well get comfortable." She didn't wait for his response and walked out the door.
To say teleportation shocked him would be the understatement of the century. The situation had become a lot more disconcerting than he could handle. A war waged within his soul, but he thought it prudent to wait and see what she would do next. After all, she was the only supernatural being he had come across, and she might have the answers he sought. Whether this was a chance encounter or not, it could prove to be beneficial.
As he waited for her to return with their tea, his mind wandered to his childhood and teenage years, which reminded him of a journal he once found in his attic. It had been full of pages upon pages about the supernatural of different worlds, but it mostly focused on witches and had spells that could be performed with the right tools.
Sameer had firmly believed it to be fiction, but Rayan had disagreed. He had trusted his instincts even back then. The journal had felt like a real deal. He recalled how he had almost opened a portal between worlds, but it didn't quite work the way he had anticipated. That was his first encounter with magic and it had felt real to him. Later, though, he had chalked it up to the fanciful thinking of youth and forgotten about it.
Yet, there he was, in the house of a witch. Back then, many things in the journal hadn’t made sense, but now they did. Maybe he should have looked for it after receiving his father’s letter. It might have belonged to his father. That would explain its presence in their attic. His mother wouldn’t have thrown out anything that belong to the man, even if she thought of it as junk. It must still be somewhere in his house, but he couldn't risk returning. At least, not right away.
"Here we go," Meena said, returning with two cups of tea and bringing him out of his thoughts. She handed him a cup and took the seat opposite him, lounging in it like she didn’t have a care in the world.
"Thank you." He placed the cup on the table without taking a sip. He wasn't sure about how much to trust her. It was probably not a good idea to accept a cup of tea from someone who practically kidnapped you because that’s what she had done. He also wasn’t buying her careless attitude. Whatever this woman wanted she wasn’t as laid back as she was trying to appear.
"Now we can talk more comfortably. Don’t you think? So, tell me everything. I want to know all about you," she said while savoring her tea.
Even though her smile troubled him and his instincts rebelled against telling her anything, he complied to her request and told her everything. Somehow, the words tumbled out of him, and he couldn't stop himself from speaking honestly and laying himself open like a book for her to read.
"My situation is similar to yours," she said after he finished his story. "But don't worry. I'll help you because I know exactly how to hide from Grim Reapers. I'll also help you get your powers. Your father will never find you and soon, you’ll be strong enough to defend yourself against any threat."
"That's the thing. I know I must hide from my father," he said, frustrated with the situation. "But I don't know why." He looked at her, hoping she would provide him with an answer. And she didn't disappoint him.
"You have good instincts," she said, chuckling. "Your father needs you to take his place in the Underworld. That's the only reason he would contact you now that you’re an adult. It’s the right age for you to get your full powers. No wonder, this is the ideal time for him to reach out."
“But why would you help me?” He was skeptical. Meeting Meena was too much of a coincidence for him to lower his guard completely.
“Because we are kindred spirits. You are in trouble, and I know how to help you. And maybe, if I ever need help, you will lend me a hand, too.”
When he looked into her eyes, he saw only sincerity. “Of course, I’ll help you whenever you need it.”
“What do you say? Let’s make a formal promise.” She extended her hand, which he took only with slight resistance. Holding his hand in a firm grip, she said, “Rayan, I promise to help you gain your powers and hide from the Grim Reapers. And you must help me when I’m in need. Do you agree?”
Like a fool, not even realizing what he was agreeing to, he said, “Yes, I agree. You can count on me if you ever need me.” For a second, he thought he saw something sinister in her eyes, but their softness returned, and he blamed his imagination.
Thus, their partnership began. Later, he would realize it wasn't an equal partnership but more of an enslavement. And nothing good would come out of it. If he hadn't trusted a stranger in his weakest moment, things might have turned out differently. Yet, he had no one but himself to blame.
Maybe it wasn’t his supernatural instincts, but his human heart that didn’t want to meet his father. If he had stayed instead of leaving, he might have met and liked the man his mother adored until her last breath. But now, all Rayan had was maybes and a debt to a witch he couldn’t hope to repay in this lifetime.
