“It is time,” a disembodied voice said from above. The man with no name frowned and looked up into the dark clouds.
His eyes began to focus, and he started to see shapes. Silhouettes of other men and women surrounding him. Suddenly, he knew he wasn’t alone.
He just didn’t know who these people were. Let alone who they had been or what their purpose was. He only knew the name Reaper, and that should have been important enough. But was it?
“I am Reaper. The one named Reaper, the one who will always be named such. You are reapers, my progeny.”
The man with no name frowned, wondering how he had been chosen. Why was he progeny when he felt as if he had been something more before. Yet maybe he was wrong. He didn’t know this life, didn’t know these shadows.
“The reapers are the ones who are just, who are death. My progeny takes the forms of who they once were, only in shadow. They are no longer light, no longer dark. They are nothing but smoke and myth.”
The man with no name didn’t like that. He had been someone once. Hadn’t he? Images of fire and pain and a smile that made no sense filled him, and he wondered why those things seemed so important. Why was he so confused?
“My reapers find those who are near death, even if they don’t realize they are such. They take their souls and usher them to the next phase.”
“What is the next phase?” a voice asked from beside him, and the man with no name tilted his head.
“It is not for us to know or say. We are merely the travelers, the shadow-bearers.”
“I don’t understand,” another voice said, and the man with no name agreed.
“We are of shadow, we are reapers.” The leader paused. “We now have a voice in the Collective, the Conclave. But they do not know who we are, nor do they need to know.”
The man with no name wondered what the Conclave was and why it was important. And why his head hurt thinking about it. Had the man he was before known of the Conclave? Or understood what any of this could be? He wanted answers, but trying to find them seemed like it would take so much, things he didn’t have.
“You are reapers. We do not know what happens after we reap a soul, only that it is taken to the next phase. It is not for us to know more than that. But it is for us to find. I am the Reaper, you are reapers. There are others like me, with other designations, those who help with your paths and your training. They help decide who will be next, and what cords must be cut. You are the reapers, and you will aid in bringing about the next phase of life, death, and existence.”
The man with no name frowned but followed along. It seemed like this was important, but all he could do was wonder where he had been all this time, and who he had been. He didn’t like not knowing, but from what Reaper said, it was not his choice. He was not supposed to know.
That didn’t make it any easier for him to understand, however.
“First, we, the Collective of Shadows, will find your names. You will be given a new identity. Soon, you will learn what it means to reap a soul, and what you must do to protect the sanctity of time, life, and death.”
“But didn’t I have another name before?” the man with no name asked, his voice hard as if strained from lack of use. In all honesty, it sounded like he had swallowed marbles, and he didn’t like it. In fact, it sounded as if it were nothing like what he had once been.
Only Reaper said that shouldn’t matter, right? So he wasn’t who he once was. Still, he wanted his old name.
Reaper shook his head. “You had a name once, but that man is gone. Dead. You died, just like the others. I reaped you,” Reaper said, looking directly at him. “I took your soul, and you were chosen for a new destiny. This is your new path. You will be known as Ashen. What once was, and what will now grow into what is.”
Ashen shook his head, not liking this new name. It was reminiscent of smoke, dust, and burned things.
He didn’t want to be associated with burned things. Imaginary flame danced along his skin, a memory of burnt flesh and screams. The end filled him, but then the memories were gone just as quickly as they came.
Yet he could still hear the screams. Not his own, but of those who watched.
Had he died in a fire?
Had others cared that he died?
Ashen didn’t know. But now, he had a name, a purpose.
And he would become a reaper.
Even if he still wondered who he had been before. Even as he tried to remember who had once cared enough about him to scream in agony.
Time passed, although Ashen didn’t know exactly how long. It seemed like a blink, and he had an eternity. Perhaps that’s what a reaper was. Maybe they lived outside of time.
He didn’t know. Apparently, it wasn’t his place to ask.
“A reaper does what its leaders tell them.” Ashen nodded as if he understood. He didn’t.
“You are to take the souls of those on your list and bring them to the next phase. You do not look at the next phase, you do not talk with anyone on the other side of the veil. They will not notice you. They will not speak to you. But you are supposed to take the souls of those you seek.”
“Are we killers?” Ashen asked, feeling as if that were a very important question. He had already died, although he didn’t know exactly how. Reaper wouldn’t tell him.
He didn’t want to be the cause of death. Didn’t want to cause pain. He didn’t want to even be near death.
Apparently, however, he was death.
Reaper shook his head. “No, you are not killing them. Time has done that. You do not cause their pain, their strife. You are not the center of their demise, or the bearer of their grief. However, you are the holder of their soul. Death will come for them, and you will be there for their souls.”
“Am I not death itself?” Ashen asked, confused.
“You are death, but not Death.”
Ashen really did not like Reaper’s rhymes and riddles. Only he didn’t have any say. Or any other reference. He was still learning his way. This new body of his. He knew it had to be a new one because the dreams he had when he was allowed to sleep had so much fire in them. The form he held now might be physical in a sense, but it wasn’t what he had been originally born with.
He didn’t remember his name, didn’t remember who he had been. The longer he stayed in this realm, this shadow realm of sorts, the more he was certain that he had once been a bear shifter.
He could sometimes sense the bear within him, wanting to get out. But he wasn’t that shifter anymore. His bear had died along with the man, but he missed him.
“Do reapers ever change into what they once were?” Ashen asked one day as they were training.
“Some do. Once they learn more about their new bodies. Others—most, in fact—aren’t able to do that.”
Reaper looked at him, frowning as he tilted his head.
“Do you know who you once were?”
Ashen shook his head. “I remember fire, but I do not remember my name, or who screamed for me. I know I was once a bear. I can feel it prowling inside me, wanting to get out, but I am not strong enough to reach him.”
“You’ve progressed farther than most would at your age.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Ashen asked, truly wanting to know the answer. He didn’t know if he ever wanted to be a true reaper. He didn’t like the idea that he was death personified now. However, he didn’t think he had a choice.