Death is a Girl

Chapter 69 - Co-worker

Morrigan awoke with a start, her eyes snapping open to the sight of a crackling fire. For a moment, she lay still, disoriented. She wasn’t sure where she was, so she stared at the fire, mesmerized. Then, it started to come back to her, and she looked down at herself. She remembered the sickening feel of blood and gore soaking her clothing, and sticking to her skin. As she examined herself, she saw evidence of it, proof it was not a simple nightmare. Her hoodie was stiff and uncomfortable with the dried substance.

“Blood… it’s everywhere…” Morrigan muttered, her eyes widening with a growing panic. The memories of the demon battle crashed over her, and a wave of nausea gripped her gut and throat.

Hilda and Emma, who had been sitting nearby, immediately moved to her side. “Morrigan, it’s okay,” Emma said gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re safe now. We’re safe.”

Morrigan’s breathing became rapid, her eyes darting around the campsite. “I’m covered in blood… I need to get it off,” she said, her voice trembling.

Hilda knelt down in front of her, her expression calm and reassuring. “There’s a waterfall nearby,” she said softly. “You can wash up there, and we have clean clothes for you.”

Morrigan’s eyes met Hilda’s, and she nodded shakily. “W-what happened?” she asked, looking at the red stains on her skin.

“Well, your demon friend ended up saving the day. I had to open the seal because it was hurting you and… yeah, that probably would have been a hard fight to win.”

Morrigan stared at her. “I... don’t understand.”

Hilda frowned and patted her shoulder before standing up. “Why don’t we walk to that waterfall? If you’re feeling up for it, once you’re clean, there is still time for a moon harvest.”

Morrigan looked around. “Should we really still be camping?”

“Well, I put some protective and warning runes around the area. Trust me, it’s way safer right here than it would be trying to hike back to the Jeep in the middle of the night. Plus Noir’s patrolling the area.”

Morrigan eventually got to her feet and followed Hilda and Emma away from the campsite. After a short hike, Morrigan could hear the calming sound of rushing water. As they turned past a bend along the base of a steep hill, they came across a waterfall emptying into a small pond that drained into a narrow river running down the mountain. There were few trees overhead, so the full moon reflecting off the pond provided plenty of light to see by.

“So, here you are,” Hilda said. “We’ll give you some privacy and keep watch. Just holler when you’re done.”

Emma handed Morrigan the bundle of clean clothes with a bar of soap on top. “Here, you can change into these.”

Morrigan walked up to the pond’s edge, watching the moonlight dance across the surface as Hilda and Emma moved back to give her privacy. She had never imagined herself bathing in a natural water source like this. In different circumstances, she might have found the experience peaceful or even enjoyable. But now, with the memories of the demon battle still fresh in her mind, it felt surreal.

Taking a deep breath, she began to undress, peeling off her stiff, blood-soaked hoodie and the rest of her grimy clothes. The cool night air brushed against her skin, sending a shiver through her body. She hesitated for a moment, glancing around to make sure she was truly alone, then stepped into the water.

The initial shock of the cold water made her gasp, but she quickly adjusted, wading deeper until the water reached her waist. She dipped her hands into the pond, using the bar of soap Emma had given her to scrub her skin. The feel of the soap and the water working together to cleanse her brought a sense of relief. She scrubbed vigorously, watching as the water around her turned pink and then clear again.

Morrigan focused on the task, using the cleansing as a way to ground herself. She washed her arms, legs, and face, scrubbing away the blood and grime. Her hair was the last to be cleaned, and she dunked her head under the water, running her fingers through the tangled strands until they were free of dirt and blood.

As she stood in the water, letting the cool stream rinse away the last remnants of the battle, she glanced around and saw faint, ethereal figures in the distance. Spirits, lingering near the edges of the forest. She realized she would need to go reap as many as she could before they left tomorrow. It was her duty, after all.

Last, she reached back to shore and grabbed her hoodie, then did her best to rinse it clean. The water once again turning red, then pink, then clear as she worked.

When she was finished, Morrigan stepped out of the water and onto the grassy bank. She quickly dried off with the towel Emma had left for her and then dressed in the clean clothes: a soft, white t-shirt and basketball shorts. The fresh clothes felt like a small luxury after the horrors of the night.

As she finished dressing, she prepared to call out to Hilda and Emma, but hesitated when something caught her eye. A small translucent face peeked around a tree, then cautiously made its way toward her. It was the spirit of a fox. And as Morrigan looked back toward the edge of the forest, she saw more of the spirits coming her way.

As Morrigan stood by the pond, feeling a cool breeze against her wet hair, she felt a pang of sorrow for the spirits gathering around her. The fox spirit watched her with curious eyes, its form shimmering slightly in the moonlight. More spirits slowly approached, their ethereal forms a silent testament to lives cut short.

Morrigan took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. “Hey, sorry everyone. I’m sorry your lives had to end the way they did… But I promise to help you find peace.”

With that, she reached to her side, feeling the smooth pole of her scythe materialize under her fingers. The weapon’s blade glowed blue, casting an otherworldly light over the scene. The spirits seemed to recognize the tool of their release, their expressions shifting from curiosity to a serene acceptance.

Morrigan stepped forward. She moved grace, calmly moving from spirit to spirit as she guided them to their final rest. Each swing of her scythe was deliberate and gentle, the blade passing through the spirits and releasing them from their earthly bonds.

She stepped over to a squirrel who then hunkered back. Its whiskers twitched anxiously. Morrigan kneeled down and held out her hand. “It’s okay...” she said. “I know it’s scary, but I promise it will be alright.” The squirrel slowly moved toward her, smelled her fingers, then looked up at her with its solid black eyes. Morrigan smiled and asked, “Are you ready?”

Something about the way it stared back made her believe the answer was yes. So she gripped her scythe and carefully passed it through the squirrel’s ethereal body.

Reaping animals is a lot easier than reaping humans, she thought as she moved on to a family of deer. They seem to understand things better. They are far more accepting of their fates. Death mentioned they don’t always need a Reaper... but I guess after dying so horrifically, it’s only natural they are struggling to find their way on their own now.

She smiled softly at the family of deer and bowed. They bowed in return, and then she raised her scythe and respectfully went about her job of guiding them to their next life. Their forms dissolved into a mist of light that floated upward and faded into the night sky.

As she worked, Morrigan found a sense of calm washing over her. The act of reaping, of guiding these lost souls, brought her a strange comfort.

One by one, the spirits gradually dissipated, each one leaving behind a faint glow that lingered for a moment before disappearing. When the last spirit had been reaped, Morrigan lowered her scythe, gazing over the pond.

She took one last deep breath, then turned to see Hilda and Emma watching from a distance. Emma smiled as she stepped forward. “Sorry, just checking on you. You were taking a while. Um… were you just reaping spirits?”

Morrigan nodded. “The demon’s victims. They came looking for me. I guess they knew I could give them a peaceful passing now.” She exhaled and looked over the dark forest. “There are probably some more out there… I’ll try looking tomorrow before we leave. I just hope the ones I don’t find manage to find their way on their own.”

Morrigan tossed her scythe away and picked up her wet hoodie, holding it away from herself as she went to join them. Her changeling was quiet for now, but she figured if it stirred too much, she could always put the wet hoodie on to seal it again. For now, she’d prefer to let it dry.

As they walked back to the campsite, Morrigan couldn’t help but glance around, her senses heightened. The woods seemed quieter now, as if the spirits’ departure had brought a temporary peace. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting long shadows on the forest floor.

As the glow of the campfire came into view, Hilda suddenly froze and got in front of Morrigan and Emma. There was someone standing in front of their fire, wearing a black robe. Hilda shushed the two younger girls, as it seemed the figure hadn’t noticed them yet.

“Is it… a witch?” Emma whispered. This was a common spot for witches, after all.

Morrigan swallowed, fearing something far worse. What if this is the person responsible for that demon appearing in the woods?

Then, it spoke in a raspy whisper that carried through the quiet night and reached their ears. “I see you there. Don’t be afraid,” he said. Then, his head lifted, and Morrigan’s mouth dropped open when she saw under the mysterious person’s hood.

He was a skeleton. Much shorter than Death and with thinner cheekbones, but the dark hollows of the reaper’s eyes stared back at them.

“It’s a reaper,” Hilda said under her breath.

“I sensed a disturbance, so I came to investigate…” the reaper said. “You don’t have to hide over there; come stand by the fire. I haven’t stood by a fire in so long but…” his skeletal hand hovered over it. “Despite not being able to feel it… it still brings back good memories… and some bad ones…”

Hilda whispered to Morrigan, “So are reapers always so… ominous?”

“I only know Death,” Morrigan whispered back. “But I think it comes with the job.”

Emma was the first to step forward, holding her hand out. “Hello! My name is Emma, and that’s my older cousin Hilda, and my friend Morrigan.”

The reaper recoiled slightly. “I do not think I should accept your handshake, young human… You are not on my list, after all.”

Emma winced and pulled her hand back. “Oh, that’s right.”

He chuckled softly, placed a skeletal hand on his abdomen, and bowed. “But my name is Lawrence, and it is nice to meet you three.”

Morrigan inhaled, then finally stepped forward, trying to put on a good face as she went to meet one of her co-workers. “I think I can shake your hand, though,” she said with a smile.

“Indeed,” Lawrence said, then gently placed his hand in hers. He was about the same height as her. She wondered if he was just short, or if he had died young.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lawrence,” Morrigan said, giving his hand a gentle shake before releasing it.

Lawrence tilted his head, the dark hollows of his eyes studying her intently. “You’re different from most reapers I’ve encountered,” he observed. “I’ve never met one who is still so alive. How long has it been since you’ve contracted?”

“About six weeks ago,” Morrigan answered.

“You’re very young,” he said, nodding. “If I may inquire, how did you die?”

“Well…” she scratched behind her ear awkwardly. She wasn’t familiar with proper etiquette among the deceased, but she felt like that might be somewhat of a rude question. Still, she answered anyway. “Demonic ritual,” she chuckled. “I was the sacrifice.”

“Ah, that explains it. I sensed an odd aura about you as well.” He turned his gaze to Emma and Hilda. “I don’t normally reveal myself to humans, certainly not witches, but I suppose it is okay since there is already a reaper with you. But Morrigan, if I may ask, who is your master?”

“My… master? Well, I don’t really refer to him with that title. But he calls himself Death.”

His head turned. “Death? Do you mean… the Death?”

“Um, I guess so?” Morrigan chuckled. “Uh, will it help if I say his voidling is named Noir?”

“Ah yes, I see. So, he’s taken another apprentice so soon. I find that surprising.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, my apologies,” Lawrence said with a bow. “Though, it does make sense now. I saw that that a demon had been defeated. I wouldn’t expect an ordinary apprentice reaper to be able to handle such a situation.”

Morrigan nodded, trying her best to just forget about it. In reality, she hadn’t done much, and she wasn’t sure if it would be best to keep her demon flesh a secret from this other reaper. Even though he did seem friendly. “If I may ask, what are you doing here?” Morrigan asked.

“Oh, I live here in these woods,” Lawrence explained. “I spend most of my day reaping the animal spirits who have struggled to pass on. I occasionally get a human on my list, but it is rare.”

“So you mainly reap animals?” Morrigan asked, feeling slightly envious.

“Yes, I find it fulfilling. Though it occasionally gets lonely.”

“So… you live here all alone?”

“Yes, I have a voidling, but… if you are familiar with Noir, then I should explain mine is not so articulate.”

“Well, I’d be happy to trade…” Morrigan said dryly.

“Is that so?” Lawrence chuckled softly, the sound more a dry rustle than anything else. “Indeed. Voidlings are as unique as any individual creature. Gariel is more... a silent observer.” He nodded over his shoulder to the trees. Morrigan followed his gaze and spotted a pair of yellow eyes staring at them from the darkness of the treetops above. She squinted, unable to make out his shape; she could just barely trace a black mass.

“Is he… a bird?” Morrigan asked.

“Typically, he takes the form of an owl. He spots spirits from overhead as I move along my daily patrol. On the occasion a human is to die nearby, he will inform me of the addition to my list.” Lawrence then folded his hands. “Now, if I may ask, what is a reaper with two witch friends doing here in the woods?”

Hilda raised a hand. “It was my idea. Emma here is my apprentice, and I was going to teach these two about moon harvesting. Then, the demon showed up, and things got kind of sidetracked.”

“Indeed…” Lawrence said, looking to the sky. “Well, the moon appears to be out now. I do not wish to disturb you. But… if you do not mind, would it be alright for me to observe?”

“I don’t see why not,” Hilda answered. “But how come?”

“Just passing curiosity. I’ve heard of the ritual but never witnessed it myself. Do you truly draw power from the moon?”

“We’re just catching what is already coming down,” Hilda winked. “Like putting a bucket out in a rainstorm. But, it works great as a catalyst for certain spells or potions. Anyway, we’d better get started before it gets too late.”

“Of course, don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here by the fire if it is quite alright,” Lawrence answered.

“Oh yeah, Emma,” Hilda said, then walked over to the smaller of the two tents. “I got some presents for you. I was going to give them to you earlier but… things got crazy.” Hilda sighed, reaching in. “Anyway, here you go.”

She pulled out a book and a staff.

“Huh!?” Emma gasped. “Hilda, that’s your staff!”

“Yeah, well, I got my mom’s now, and I’d hate for it to just sit in a corner. So I thought you should have it.” She winked. “I’ll still hold onto it when you have to go home. So Aunt Sharon doesn’t find out.”

Emma put on a giddy smile as she took the staff from her. She held it reverently, turning it over in her hands and feeling the smooth wood beneath her fingers. “Thank you, Hilda! I’ll take good care of it, I promise. Seriously. Thank you so much!”

Hilda smiled warmly, then handed Emma the book. “And this one is slightly less exciting, because I’m giving you homework.”

Emma looked it over and flipped open the pages. “Astrology?”

“Yup. Make a habit of studying that book every night until you are familiar with it. Trust me, it’ll help a lot in the long run, and it’s a great way to keep your head on magic when you are not directly able to work with spells or attunement.” Hilda winked. “And it’ll be less conspicuous to Aunt Sharon. You can just say it’s for your science class or something.”

Emma looked at the book with renewed interest, her excitement not dampened in the least. “Thank you, Hilda. I promise I’ll get the study time in.”

Hilda nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, let’s get started with the moon harvesting.”

The three girls climbed up onto the boulder while Lawrence sat himself by the fire, where he could hear and quietly observe what they did without getting in their way.

Once seated, Morrigan took a real look at the sky above and nearly gasped. “Wooah… so many stars.”

“Yup,” Hilda said as she worked on drawing a circle in chalk around them. “You should come see it on a new moon sometime. Not as easy to gather energy, but it’s still a beautiful sight.” When she was done with the chalk, she distributed the glass bottles of water that they had collected earlier, then sat cross-legged along with them. “Okay, so just keep your water between your legs, or whatever is comfortable, and keep your hands on it. Then, I want you to look up at the moon, familiarize yourself with it, try to feel a connection to it. When you think you have, close your eyes, then search for the feel of your magic in your heart, then let it flow outward and back into you.”

“Hilda,” Morrigan interrupted. “I don’t really feel it in my heart the way Emma mentioned before. It usually just comes from my hands.”

“Really?” Hilda asked. “Hm… that’s weird. Well, you are a reaper, after all. Worst case, it just doesn’t work.”

No, actually there is a way worse case scenario than that, Morrigan thought, looking at the bottle. What if I create death water? Then she reached out and summoned her scythe. She didn’t have as much problem with her power going out of control while it was out. She positioned it between her arms then held the bottle as Hilda instructed, then Hilda and Emma did the same with their staves.

Morrigan glanced along the tree line briefly, until she spotted the yellow eyes of the voidling who had yet to introduce himself. She then wondered where Noir had run off to. But knowing him, he probably wasn’t far and would step out of the shadows the second she called.

“Alright,” Hilda continued. “So, close your eyes. Try to feel the moon and your power at the same time, and kind of… let the two flow together. Your power should wash outward and then back in. You can imagine it as waves coming from your body and grabbing shells off of a beach. Or you can picture it as a funnel. Whatever works for you.”

Morrigan closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She tried to feel the connection to the moon as Hilda had described, but it was difficult. She had always felt her magic in her hands, not her heart. She could feel the tingling as she concentrated, imagining her energy flowing out like waves, reaching up to the moon and drawing its power down into the bottle of water between her legs.

After a while, Hilda spoke softly. “Alright, open your eyes and check your water.”

Morrigan opened her eyes, looking down at the bottle in her hands. The water remained unchanged. It was still the same clear liquid they had collected earlier. Well, maybe there were no visual indications of it having worked. She turned to ask Hilda how to tell if it worked or not, but then her eyes were instantly drawn to Emma’s bottle.

Emma’s bottle shimmered with a faint, silvery light, and she looked over to Morrigan with an excited smile, but her expression dropped upon noting Morrigan’s disappointed face and her completely ordinary bottle of water. She smiled encouragingly. “It’s okay, Morrigan. This is our first time trying this, after all. I just got lucky!”

Morrigan forced a smile, feeling slightly guilty. She didn’t want her own disappointment to take away from Emma’s achievement. “Yeah, don’t worry. My magic is different, after all, so it’s not that surprising. But it looks like you got it on your first go, that’s amazing.”

Hilda nodded in agreement. “We are from a powerful line, so that surely helped. Still, that’s impressive for your first attempt, Emma. Let me see?” Emma handed her bottle over, and Hilda examined it, her eyes narrowing. “Damn…”

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked.

Hilda grinned. “Just promise not to get too full of yourself.”

Emma’s eyes instantly started to sparkle.

Hilda chuckled. “You caught almost as much energy as I did. And I’ve been doing this almost every full moon for the last fifteen years.”

“HA! YES!” Emma pumped a fist.

Hilda handed the bottle back to Emma with a proud smile. “Keep practicing, and you’ll only get better.”

Emma nodded, then stuck her tongue out and gave a mock salute. “I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”

Hilda reached over and ruffled her hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you won’t. You brat.”

Morrigan watched the exchange as the two cousins laughed. Then, as she turned, she noticed a dark figure looming over her, and she jumped backward, startled… until realizing it was just Lawrence. He looked curiously over their group at the two successfully harnessed moon water bottles.

“Your magic relies on this?” Lawrence asked.

“I wouldn’t say we rely on it,” Hilda said. “It just helps with spells and the process of creating it helps with our attunement.”

“Attunement?” Lawrence asked.

“Yeah, so, from what I’m gathering, reapers are naturally attuned. For us, it’s kind of like a muscle. It gets stronger the more you use it, and casting spells and doing things like moon harvesting are the best ways to exercise it.”

“How fascinating.” Lawrence bowed. “Well, I do appreciate you allowing me to observe, but I must return to my duties.” He turned to Morrigan. “Thank you, young reaper, for aiding those spirits earlier, and all of you for defeating that demon. I had not had such a beast in my woods for a very long time, and I was fearful of the damage it would cause. It did cause great harm, but it could have been so much worse.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Morrigan said.

As Lawrence began to turn away, Hilda said, “Hey, hang on a second.” When he turned back, she smiled. “So, this is my usual moon harvesting spot. I don’t come here every time, but more often than not, this is where I like to camp out during full moons. If you ever want company again in the future, feel free to stop by during a full moon, and we might be here again.”

Lawrence bowed. “Thank you for the offer. I do believe I will take you up on it sometime. It has been enjoyable to share company for a change. Now, I must be off.” With one last bow and a flourish of his cloak, he stepped into the shadows and disappeared.

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