38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
~Leo~
My frustration grew with every half-answer Visenya gave. What did she mean that she’d made the same mistake as Kalo? He chose to become a genie to give the man he loved more wishes, and a life they could enjoy together, and he was betrayed.
In her version, who did she fall in love with? She hadn’t mentioned any other person from her past, hadn’t mentioned anyone at all besides Death.
She couldn’t mean…
What’s happening?
Darius’ voice rang out in my head through our mind-link, making me wince. Not much. We’re still trying to get answers.
Is she talking?
Kind of. I couldn’t help wondering if he wanted to know for our sake, or because he simply wanted to know more about his mate. Not that I could blame him for that; I knew exactly how overwhelming that urge to understand and protect could be.
Kalo glanced over at me, as if he could feel my divided attention, and I gave him a nod to confirm I was still focused.
“Who were you in love with?” I asked Visenya.
Rather than answering me, her gaze shifted to Evalina. “Do you know the story of Aravander?”
Recognition lit the fairy’s features. “Of course.”
I looked at Kalo, wondering if the name meant anything to him, but he gave a small shake of his head. At least it wasn’t just me.
“Who’s Aravander?” Kalo asked them both.
Visenya inclined her head at Evalina, inviting her to take the lead, and the fairy beamed over at us. “It’s a story we learn as children. Felix would probably call it a fairy tale, although we don’t use that phrase.”
“For obvious reasons,” Kalo acknowledged.
“What’s the story?” I asked.
“There was once a young elf named Aravander. He lost his mother when he was very small, and his father remarried soon after. His new wife didn’t care for him, and her sons followed her lead.
They gave him no kindness, no place in the family.
He was made to serve them, to clean and fetch and endure whatever they chose to give him. ”
“Like Cinderella?” I asked.
Evalina shrugged. “I don’t know who that is.”
Of course she didn’t. Her world had their stories and we had ours. “Never mind. Go on.”
“Well, one day, Aravander was sent to collect herbs that only grew at the top of a cliff. It was a steep, dangerous place. No one went there willingly.” Her voice softened, probably mimicking the way the story had been told to her as a child.
“When he reached the top, he stood at the edge, looked down, and wondered what it would feel like to step off and be free of everything that waited for him back at home.”
A quiet tension filled the air as she took a dramatic pause.
“But he wasn’t alone for long. A man appeared beside him, out of nowhere, but very calm and still. And when Aravander looked at him, he knew exactly who he was.”
“Death,” Kalo breathed, and Evalina nodded.
“He offered his hand and told Aravander they could step off the cliff together. It would be peaceful.”
From the corner of my eye, I watched Visenya’s reaction, or lack of it, while Evalina recited the tale. She didn’t add or correct anything, just listened with that same calm stillness that Death himself possessed in the story.
“But instead of taking his hand, Aravander asked him to play a game.”
Surprise flickered through my thoughts, and across Kalo’s face.
“A game?” he echoed softly.
“Yes. He said that if Death was going to take him, he wanted one last afternoon first. So they ran and played, and they talked. They laughed.” Her gaze drifted into the distance, as though she could see it unfolding. “And when the sun began to set, Aravander realized something had changed.”
“He didn’t want to die,” I guessed.
Evalina nodded. “He went home, and Death let him. But he didn’t forget him.
He returned again and again, not to take him, but whenever Aravander was at his lowest, and somehow, he would find the strength to keep going.
Over time, Aravander grew stronger. He overthrew his father, punished those who had hurt him, and took control of his life.
He became a ruler, a good one. But somewhere along the way, he fell in love with Death, and he decided that the next time Death came, he would go with him willingly. ”
“And did he?” Kalo asked, fully absorbed in the story by that point.
“Not exactly. Because if Aravander died, he would pass into the afterlife, where Death could not follow. And along the way, he’d come to care for Aravander too. He didn’t want to lose him, so he offered him a way to join him in immortality, to remain by his side always.”
Kalo realized it a moment before I did. “He became a reaper.”
“No,” Evalina said at the same time Visenya said, “Yes.”
The contradiction broke the spell Evalina’s storytelling had cast, and she frowned at Visenya. “That’s not part of the story.”
“Perhaps not, but it’s the truth. I’ve met Aravander.
He was the first of us. Before him, Death worked alone, but his realms were less populated then.
As more beings appeared, his workload increased, and he couldn’t collect all the souls himself.
Aravander began to help, and eventually, they needed another person, and another. ”
A growing army of reapers, then. “And how are they recruited?” I asked.
“The same way Aravander was. They go with him, not by choice exactly, but because they can’t bear not to.”
“Because they’ve fallen in love with Death,” Kalo whispered. “Like you did.”
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ground myself.
“So, he just… collects people? Finds them when they’re vulnerable and turns them into reapers? He’s using them.”
Visenya’s gaze flicked towards me. “Yes, and no.”
It couldn’t just be straightforward, could it?
“What he offers is real. The connection and understanding are deeper than you can imagine, on both sides. He loved me too, in his own way.”
Loved.
Evalina caught the past tense instantly, the same as I did. “He doesn’t love you anymore?”
Visenya’s head lowered, just a little. “He moves on because he must. The worlds he governs continue to grow, meaning there are more souls and more need for reapers, especially when not all of the reapers are cut out for it long-term.”
Evalina looked stricken. “So, he abandoned Aravander too?”
“No,” Visenya said, and there was something almost protective in her tone. “Aravander was the first, and he remains the first among us. The rest of us are… lesser.”
There was a flicker of pain in that final word, a rare show of emotion from the reaper, and Kalo picked up on it too. He stepped closer to her, not quite into the trap but close enough that my instincts flared anyway, a hand shooting out to stop him from going any further.
“I think we really do have a lot in common,” he told her. “You sacrificed your life for love, and by the time you understood what it really meant, you couldn’t undo it.”
Visenya didn’t argue, which we were coming to learn most likely meant she agreed.
“Then let us help you,” he offered. “The people in this pack, my mate and his friends, they’re kind-hearted, smart and resourceful. If there’s a way out for you, they’ll find it, and maybe you won’t have to take me or Leo after all.”
That didn’t seem all that likely to me. “If she somehow stops being a reaper, won’t Death just send someone else?”
“Not necessarily,” Visenya breathed softly.
“Each reaper’s tasks are separate. That’s why no one has come to rescue me.
Death may come himself, but he never assigns a second reaper to the same task.
If I remain a reaper, I will have to take one of you, but if I don’t… it might slip through the cracks.”
If that was true, that might be the structural weakness Kalo had hoped to find, a gap in whatever system Death had built.
“Does that mean you’ll work with us?” I pressed.
“There is little chance of success,” she warned.
“That’s not what he asked,” Kalo pointed out. “And isn’t a little chance better than no chance at all? If we fail, you’re no worse off than you are now, but if we succeed, you could have a whole new life.”
He looked over at me with those final words, his smile proof that he saw me as part of his own new life, and I vowed once more that no matter what Visenya chose, I wasn’t going to let that future be decided for him.