REAPER IN RED

Chapter 63

I dreamt of mom.

They were good dreams. Peaceful dreams to match the song plaguing my mind. Mom catching me with a paint bucket, and instead of getting upset, we painted the walls of our cave together. The softness of her cloak on a cold winter night, better than any blanket. The gentle lullaby sung in a language dead for thousands of years, but spoke of love of children in a time of famine. Mom loved to tell me the story as a child, and then sing me to sleep.

I dreamt of heavy thunderstorms, curling up on stolen feathered pillows, and beneath a bed of warm and crunchy leaves. It was warm and cozy, and the weather outside was perfect for just watching. Dark aside from the flashes of light and rumbles of thunder amidst the ever present smell of nature and water.

"Petrichor," my mother said, smiling down on me as her fingers curled through my hair. "It's such a funny word. The smell of rain. A human word. What a creative bunch."

"What do we call it, momma?" I said, my tiny hands digging into cloak.

"We call it life, little one. Life."

"Rain smells like life?"

Mom giggled her incredible laugh. "No, little one. Life smells like rain. It is sweet and earthy. Woody and airy. It is the smell of what was, what is, and what can be, all in one."

"Isn't that the same thing?" I wondered. "If rain and life smell the same, then why is it different?"

"My dear little Ruby of the Roses. You are so smart," she tickled my stomach, and I couldn't help but laugh. "What does this rain smell like?"

She never did like giving me all the answers. I scrunched my nose and thought hard. "I smell mud. And wood. But good smelling wood from when I play with the beavers in their homes."

"How do mud and wood make you feel?"

"Like I'm having fun. I get to play with the bugs and the worms in the mud and feel it smoosh in my fingers, and beaver homes are so nice and warm and cozy, but they don't really like it when I try to go inside in my no-smile form. Why don't beavers run away from me when I'm no-smiling, like everything else does?"

"It's because you are in their home, and they are so protective of their young that they will face down even a great and powerful little Reaper like you."

We were silent for a moment, letting the sounds of rain hitting stone and wood and mud echo around us. A quick flash of lightning and clap of thunder barely spoiled the peaceful atmosphere.

"Momma?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Does life smell different to you?"

Mom smiled deep. "It does. Just as the rain tonight smells of mud and wood, and happy memories of playing in beaver dams, tonight, I smell the flowering trees that have yet to bloom, the rain-soaked feather of birds protecting their nests of unborn young, and of the many millions of ants beneath our feet working together as one in pursuit of a perfect home for themselves and their offspring. The smell of rain, just like the smell of life, will change as you learn more. Experience more. But no matter what, it will always smell pleasant and bountiful, because that is what it is. Life smells like rain, because rain connects all things and is inside all things."

A lyrical chasm opened up within me. My dream was of a hot and sunny desert. The sandy wind ripped through mine and mom's cloaks, billowing them out and behind us. Despite the horrid weather and the tiny debris slapping my face in a thunderous melody, I laughed. I laughed and ran around mom, listening for the yips and squeals of a young Barghest who bounded between mom's legs and dug into the sand, only to pop up in my own shadow.

"Zwei!" I shouted in laughter. He jumped onto me, long claws outstretched and digging into my shoulders. "That tickles!"

"Keep looking around, Ruby," mom called out. Despite the hood over her head, she was looking around with careful eyes, unbothered by the sand whipping around us.

"Yes, mom."

"What can you hear?"

"Wind and sand and Zwei!"

"Good. And what can you see?"

"Sand and more sand and even more sand! It's everywhere."

Finally, that got mom to smile. "It is a desert after all, little one."

"I'm not so little anymore! I'm almost ninety." I huffed, picking up Zwei in my arms and I stood up and shook the sand out of my hood and cloak.

"And what can you sense?"

"I can't sense anything! There isn't anything here except for us! Just us and sand as far as the eye can-"

I stopped talking as I finally let the sense wash over me. I could feel something. Something I felt so often for so many years. It was faint, but it was there. I turned my head to the left, in the directly of the blowing wind, and started trudging through the sand dunes. Mom would follow me in my explorations. She always did.

"What can you sense, little one."

"There is… someone. Someone there. Beneath the sand. Farther than I thought they'd be. Why can I feel them better than I did in the forest?"

"There is less life here to confuse and confound your senses. And so your own magics extend further afield."

Mom spoke so eloquently, I loved it. I hope I could speak as nicely as she did, when I was a million years old like her.

"I am very much less than one million years, little one."

"Eep!" I gasped. She read my mind! Reaper magic at work! It must be.

"You think out loud, Ruby Rose." Mom grinned, "now go find us our weary companion. I sense that they could use a friend during their time of need."

I nodded and scampered forward.

It was a young woman. Maybe a teenager at most. She was covered in simple, thin rags, with a long white turban and veil to cover her neck and much of her head. She was half buried in the sand, and her skin was raw where the sand was ripping through her. Her lips were chapped and eyes barely opened. A hand was clawing at the sand around her, yet she was too tired to pull her body free.

I looked up at mom, and she nodded towards me, beckoning me forward. I nodded silently and breathed out to calm my mind. At once the world grew darker as the very sunlight amidst the sandstorm fell away, leaving long shadows in my wake. As I shifted gracefully into my Reaper guise, I saw my mom looking very much the same. Her bright red eyes and boney, pale features were covered in a cloak as thick of night, and as long a shadow in the afternoon sun. I hoped I looked much the same way in my own form. I want to be able to command as much a presence as she did.

I let my scythe emerge from the shadows between my fingers and grasped tightly to the shaft. The blade was long and sharp as it ever was.

There was great fear in the woman's eyes, and her lips trembled as I stepped towards her. I could not calm her with words, but with mom's permission, I dug into her mind. The woman did not have parents, nor siblings, but she did have a partner. A partner who she had seen fall behind their caravan a few days ago, and was presumed dead. I was sorry we did not reach her in time, yet my face showed no sign of emotion.

I tweaked her memories of her partner slightly, and her trembling stopped. "Mariah," she whispered in gasping breaths and dried throat. She extended her hand to me. I extended my scythe in turn.

Her Reaping was gentle, and she faded peacefully into the realm beyond. It was a peaceful Reaping and a restful passing. It was a good Reap.

As she gave her last breath, I let my Reaper guise shift to my human one, turning to mom with a big smile. A smile that she matched with her own. As wide and carefree as I had always known and loved.

I was standing at the edge of a waterfall, overlooking a deep lake. A soft melody played at the edges of my awareness. On the outskirts of the lake, far from me, was a town. Maybe a village, judging by its size. It was mainly built of stone foundations and wooden walls, with thatched roofs and the occasional stone chimney. Not that they needed chimneys, judging by the humid heat which filled the air, despite the soft mists that washed off from the water's spray.

The sun was bright and high in the sky, and I could smell sweet flowers. The pleasant aromas of wild mint, and basil, and rosemary, and thyme all mixed together with fresh blooming flowers of lavender, hyacinth, rose and wisteria. It was a smell that would have been overpowering for a mortal, as all the fragrances would have clashed into an endless mess and tangle. There was something so otherworldly mixed in with the scent that I could only describe as mom.

Her territory extended from the outskirts where I was standing, all the way into the heart of the village. To me, I felt safety and serenity; able to play with Zwei to my heart's content without fear of anything around. But mom was doing what she often did during our relaxing time in her territory. She was sitting at the edge of the waterfall, back straight and arms crossed gently on her lap in a relaxed and comfortable pose. Her eyes were shut for a moment before fluttering open, taking in the site of the village across from her, before they fluttered closed once more, taking in a deep and calming breath of air.

The pattern continued, eyes open, looking, eyes closed, breathing. All the while, Zwei and I were tackling one another amongst the sweet smelling flowers and herbs. There was a crack as I pushed Zwei a bit too hard into a tree, him letting out a small yip to let me know I was being too rough.

"Sorry, Zwei."

At once, all three of us seized our actions. Something pinged our minds and we turned to look at a particular spot in the distance. It was in the heart of the village, and it was dying. Ninety-eight. The aroma of femininity but the air of one who claimed that title with all they had. They lived a good, long life. They were satisfied with this ending. They had family surrounding them. One who would die in three to four years, another in twenty-seven to thirty-five. Even one set to live a century. Two more had another nine or so, and one, just a few weeks or months at most.

"May I borrow Zwei?" Mom asked me, her gaze not bothering to turn towards me. Her entire attention was fixed on the slowly dying human.

"Can I-"

"You know the rules." Her tone was harsher than it usually was, but I understood. Only She may Reap in Her territory.

"You can have Zwei. Can I watch?"

Finally she turned to me with a glimmering smile. "You may."

We raced to the town with speeds that rivalled the very winds, and at once, we were at the door to the small wood-building with our charge. Mom put a finger to her lips and clicked her tongue, beckoning Zwei to her. He went playfully, billowing into deep smoke and reappearing at her left. Mom's skin paled and the clear outline of bone emerged beneath her black cloak. She'd forgone her hood for this one, and opened the door slowly as to not scare those inside.

Her shadows swelled through the floor of the room, touching each of the inhabitants. They turned to her with soft, tearful smiles. "Summer, you finally made it."

Mom nodded, her hand outstretched as a scythe emerged from the air.

Zwei misted through the humans and onto the dying one's torso. A soft lick of her face, and the human shuddered peacefully. Mom nicked the human's shoulder, and it was done.

Tears fell more rapidly as the other humans closed the distance to the dead one. Her face was at peace, as calm in death as she was on life.

One of the humans turned to mom and grasped her bony fingers in his own. "Thank you for being here at Angel's last moments. I know you have an important duty far away, but I am glad that she saw you one last time. Be at peace."

Mom did not smile, for she could not in this form. Her piercing red eyes took in the human in front of her, and nodded a shallow, little nod. It was barely a movement, but it was enough for the human to turn their attention away from the Reaper in their midst, and to their dead family.

Without a sound, mom turned away and left the building, Zwei smoking alongside her. As we re-entered the open air, mom's form dropped, and she once again took on human guise. Her eyes misted over as she turned to the family. There was something… beautiful and sorrowful in her look. One I only ever see when she Reaps within her territory, and nowhere else.

"Come along little one. It is time to return home."

With her gently prodding me forward, and Zwei yipping playfully around us, mom and I ventured back to the waterfall in a happy embrace. A song of our souls and of our memories pervaded all.

And I woke up.