9 Zarev
I offer Modred a slow smile. Welcoming people to the afterlife is something I'm used to doing, and usually I add a touch of empathy since passing can be hard. His words hang in the air around the room, sending a new wave of uncertainty into the suffocating silence. Only three of us know what he’s talking about, and one is in the middle of dying.
But for him, I have no pity. He's hurt the princess, and my eyes flick again to the deep red splotches showing through the sleeves of her gown. It looks terribly painful, and he left behind something in her skin. I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but Modred pierced her with something deep enough that she's still bleeding.
He sees me now, and I sense his soul slowly leaving his body. Something I haven't felt in Tressa for the two weeks I've been behind the wall.
Death is stunted here, and spirits don’t pass on as they should. My mind drifts briefly to Midas’ mention of the water when he was secretly talking to his wife, but Rapuznel takes all of my focus as I move to help.
Rapunzel turns to Modred, a pained cry escaping her when she catches sight of him. Whatever her magic did, it caused his skin to melt down his face, exposing the muscles of his nose and the blood vessels beneath. Even some of the mass beneath his skin is dripping, making him look like an elaborate wax figure despite all the blood. It’s not a slow progression, he’s quickly becoming less of a human and more of a puddle.
His soul is vacating the body as it dies, but I can’t grasp him yet. When a person passes on, the soul is freed from the body. They join the afterlife, entering my domain. If Modred is inaccessible, he’s still clinging to life. And I’m not feeling charitable enough to invite him to Death, not after the strange stint he just pulled with the princess.
Rapunzel screams and I catch the sounds of people cursing around the room. There are guards still piling in, unbeknownst to them that the princess started this mess.
Technically, Modred did, but I have no idea what tale Midas is about to spin.
Modred still holds out a hand towards me, terrified eyes nearly falling from his head as her magic takes over. I watch him, glancing down at the hands that somehow made her bleed. They are red from the blood, but it doesn’t appear that he can do something supernatural like Rapunzel can. So if he didn’t use magic to harm her, what happened?
Arthur screams something senseless at Midas who fires right back at him. Leaving Rapunzel's side I walk towards Modred, whose head and hand drop as his skin continues to melt off.
He opens his mouth to speak, but blood spills out instead. His body heaves as I watch. More skin melts away, weighing his clothes, and he's disintegrating as the seconds pass and the screams pick up.
“Greed is a common way to die,” I tell him, fingering the handle of my sickle. I can feel the pull; he's quite close to death. Once he crosses to the spirit world, reaping him is a necessity so his soul doesn’t splinter. Until that happens, I’m content to watch him struggle as he dies. “Had you been less selfish, you would likely live. Taking what the princess didn’t offer you will be your demise.”
Modred works his jaw, which turns into part of the slick mess and continues to roll off his face. But he does speak though, in a voice only I can hear. “I am… dead?”
“Soon.”
“How is he speaking,” Rapunzel gasps and I pivot my head around. I knew she, like everyone else in this room, could see Modred dying. I didn't think she would be able to hear him by this point. not when he's passing over, speaking in a voice usually only Death can hear.
Midas is stalking towards her, the guards who ran in a step or two behind. His eyes are wildly livid and some of that golden curse he carries radiates from his hands. I always believed his curse only came out if it were something he touched.
Arthur screams across the room, and I watch Modred choke once again. His body should be convulsing and bleeding, yet he's simply melting. Gruesome as it is to watch, his insides join the floor of the dining hall, dying much more quietly than one would imagine.
When I glance back at Rapunzel, she has huge fistfuls of her hair clenched between her fingers and her shoulders shake as she stands there. Midas is oblivious to that, storming over to her. She's close enough now that I can still touch her if I wanted.
As Midas approaches, I lift my shadows higher. He slows, blinking rapidly as he tries to understand what's making him hesitate to approach.
It's me. Death isn't meant to be interrupted, so I can persuade people to turn away. But I only ever use my curse for myself, and shielding Rapunzel as well is taking a toll on me fast.
I’ve never used my influence on the living. For the most part I prefer watching and staying away from them. Even the souls that haunt my mind forever weren’t granted access to my gifts but a swift death instead. Yet with the Golden Girl, I’m keeping her father at bay with the influence of the shadows.
Death can be ugly, hallowing. Sometimes it’s easier to be influenced away than to face that reality. But Midas is far too familiar with death, and the same goes for Arthur. I can’t make them turn away just because it’s gory.
“I am dead,” Modred goes on, and when I glance back again Rapunzel screams. His corpse is almost skinless on the ground, blood and guts running across the golden floor.
But the Modred standing at his corpse's side is wispy looking, detailed like a spirit without mass. Rapunzel whimpers; I don’t think she’s ever seen the dead before.
“Yes. You'll cross the border in a few moments and pass on. Your soul isn't tainted like it should be, so nothing tethers you here.” There’s bitterness in my voice. Asking him about Rapunzel is on my mind, but watching the two Kings pacing towards us is more important right now. He’s too conflicted to pass on his own, and I can feel the tug of his spirit calling me to reap him.
I don’t leave souls to suffer in Mystica once they pass. Bitterness turns to hate, hate turns to rage, and rage turns to revenge. Some spirits take years to pass through the four phases unchecked, some take hours. It’s all based on the individual's mind.
Staring at Modred, I don’t think it will take him all that long. He already had a vendetta against Rapunzel for not giving him more of her magic, and opposing Midas didn’t even phase him. He’ll be a problem for sure if not dealt with.
“What?” Modred asks and I know I'm doing a pathetic job guiding him. But my focus snaps back to Rapunzel as her father approaches from one side, Arthur shaking his head clear and rushing the other. The sword I noticed him sliding into the hidden sheethe earlier flashes as he moves, and I can’t help wondering if that blade was meant for the princess or King.
Midas, for all his false composure, lifts his golden hand to her. “I told you to never lose control.”
My brow twitches, but Rapunzel does nothing to protect herself. I'm not sure if she expects this or if she's just too shocked to do anything.
“That bitch deserves it,” Modred snarls, his insult missed by all but Rapunzel and me. I wave a hand, letting some of the shadows push the annoying dead man back from us. He's not going anywhere anytime soon and he’s the least of my concerns.
Midas doesn't hold back, putting his full force behind the swing, and Rapunzel cowers beneath his rage. My brow twitches, watching in slow motion, and the King has no idea I’m only standing a step or two from them.
When he brings his palm down to strike her dead with the golden hand, I can't stop myself.
Twisting my fingers, I send spirals of inky blackness into his chest and force him back. He grunts and stumbles, that strike missing by inches as the princess continues to stare in stunned silence.
I grab her shoulder, giving her a rough shake. “Snap out of it.”
Her eyes slowly lift to mine, her response taking much too long as Midas catches himself. With the guards looking on he sneers, probably trying to brush off what looks to be a stumble.
He’s feral, more so than any other time I’ve seen him since arriving. My mind drifts to the figures in the parlor and filling the halls, the tortured prisoners trapped half dead and half alive. This isn’t a forgiving King.
“What have you done,” he growls again, and I look around the room once more. Arthur and his guards are approaching from the opposite side, swords drawn, and I’m certain they mean to attack Rapunzel. My gaze snags on the fated blade in Arthur’s hand, the long sword gleaming in the lighting of the room.
Midas’ own men create a semi circle to the other side of the room, Dorah plastered against the far wall with wide eyes.There’s no running out of here, and even when a third of the guards rush forward to aid their King, it’s clear that Midas and Rapunzel are the only two to be truly feared in this room.
And me, but only Rapunzel knows that.
In the distance, Dorah is absolutely useless. Fear and revulsion paint her features, and she’s flattened her hands to the wall as she scoots further down, trying to discreetly escape.
“I - I don’t know,” Rapunzel mutters, snagging my attention again. “I didn’t mean to.”
Midas growls, and I drag a hand across my brow. Hiding here while holding onto Modred’s soul is tiring. I can’t use this much magic, shield myself from prying eyes, and protect the princess from being struck. Not with a wayward spirit sapping my energy as we stand here.
I don’t call on the shadows this often. I haven’t had to in a long time. Doing so now is more exertion than I intended. Revealing myself was never part of the plan, but the princess wasn’t supposed to be kind and innocent either.
She was supposed to be a monster. One I could end.
Using this much shadow energy behind the wall is more draining than expected. It’s not that I’m having my energy repressed per se, but it’s as though whatever keeps death at bay in these lands pushes at my shadow magic too.
“Lies,” Midas hisses, his voice dropping so only the three of us can hear. He doesn’t want an audience, and despite the anger I can see radiating off of Arthur he stands back, probably afraid of the Golden King’s rage. Even Excalibur could fall prey to the King’s golden touch. “You have powers you’ve never shared. You will not make a fool of me in court!”
He lifts his hand, liquid gold flying from his fingertips. Rapunzel lets go of her hair, throwing up her arms to cover herself, and I make a split second decision when he sends the gold flying at her.
A stupid decision, but a decision all the same.
Spreading my hands, the shadows shoot up from the floor. But it’s not enough to combat the strength of Midas’ golden rage, so I reach out to snatch the princess out of the way with the shadows, wrapping an inky black arm around her body and tugging her towards me.
The strain of magic is too much. When I feel my shield slipping, I reach for the sickle behind me and snap it out to block the gold. It all happens in a matter of seconds, and I know it’s the end of my magical reserves. This is what I get for stretching my energy too thin.
When I flicker into existence, Midas’ eyes widen with horror. The gold hits and sinks into the sickle but doesn’t turn it. His jaw falls open at the sight.
Rapunzel takes a shaky breath, grasping my arm. Her hands are hot to the touch, and I do my best to not flinch at the contact. When I’m more bone than shadow, I can feel pain too. “They can see you.”
“It would appear so, Princess.”
Midas hisses, straightening up. “How dare you enter the Golden Kingdom without an invitation? We invite a select few to dock in our port. State your name, boy.”
I snort, and Rapunzel stiffens beside me. Her hand is shaking, and I keep in mind that Midas did something to hurt her. “Boy is a little insulting, Midas. I’m much older than that.”
He straightens, taking the last few steps towards us. His eyes glare into the sickle that remains its same black and silver, the blade and handle never changing. “I am King Midas, ruler of Tressa. What witchery is this? Nothing can withstand my golden touch.”
I shrug. “Your curse cannot hurt the dead.”
Midas snarls, throwing his hands wide. “Seize the intruder, dead or alive!”
He’s beyond listening at the moment, too angry that someone slipped into his guarded kingdom. Rapunzel whimpers when everyone lunges forward, and from my peripheral I spot Arthur and his own guards jumping into the fray.
It’ll be a bloodbath, and we’re standing in the middle.
“Father, stop!” Rapunzel screams, holding up her hands. They still sparkle gold, and a few of the approaching guards hesitate. “Don’t hurt him!”
“The princess of Tressa killed my nephew Modred,” Arthur cries, his voice mixing with the rest of the noise behind us. “She needs to answer for her crimes!”
There’s too much yelling. I clamp both hands on my sickle, eyeing the princess. Her desperate eyes stare at her father, but there’s no reasoning with the man. His control over this dinner is all but gone, and he’s manic to remain in charge.
Rapunzel waves her hands around, and the guards continue to cower away. Arthur’s people will not be so easy to diffuse, and I forget all about Modred as I twirl the sickle around, prepared to deal with whoever reaches me first.
There’s too much going on and my magic reserves are running dry. I’ll have to fight hand to hand or this will end up messy.
A guard wearing Arthur’s crest lunges at me, and I grasp his arm before severing the hand at the wrist. The scythe is sharp, and I rarely use it to slash, so the unnatural stone slices clean through.
He screams, and I spin the weapon in my hand as another approaches. There’s two more parrying off to one side, looking too afraid to get too close. Magic isn’t unheard of in Mystica, but shadow magic is.
“Father, no!”
I manage to shove off another guard without completely maining him before pivoting in time to catch sight of the princess throwing herself in front of me. I’m not sure what her intent is, but I have a good feeling whatever is coming my way will have a harder time killing me than it will her.
I’ve already crossed over between life and death once. It doesn’t scare me to do it again.
Shoving her back, the slice of something piercing my chest sends pinpricks of pain rocking through me. The first wound is followed by several more, and I gasp at the pain.
Rapunzel screams, her voice echoing around the room once more. When I glance down, shiny gold gleams back at me, wide bases to something sticking out of my chest shining in the dimming lights.
There’s four - no, five of these things sticking out of me. They look golden, like Midas’ personal ammo.
“Zarev!” Rapunzel cries, gasping my arm. Her touch is surprisingly hot, and that golden tint to her hands intensifies again. “Zarev!”
I gasp, staggering back when the gold protrusions twist and dig in, like living gold is crawling beneath my skin. I choke on the feeling, pain I haven’t experienced in a long time rushing back to me. It brings me to my knees, making me think of the horrors Midas’ enemies suffer when they stand against him.
I am Death. Nothing should hurt me like this, yet I’m not even sure I can stand back up. Rapunzel remains stubbornly at my side, even if it makes her as much of a target to her father as I am.
“Father, stop! Stop, you’re hurting him!”
“Get the princess out of the way!” Midas screams.
Their voices all start to sound far away. I’m aware of Arthur’s attack from the other side, and when something sharp slices through my back I realize that his men can’t take a hint. Growling, I lift my hand and slam it into the floor, feeling the pulse of the magic thrum through me before the shadows shoot violently from the floor.
Pain dances up my arm from the effort. Whatever Midas threw at me is digging into my skin, making me gasp around the feel. He’s somehow inserting his magic into me, forcing his way into my own powers to try and control me.
And it hurts. This is a type of magic I’m not familiar with.
My heart beats in my ears as I take a breath. Staying here will cause more issues, and I’ve botched my mission now until I’m healed. It would take a great long time for Midas to kill me, but I don’t want to give him the time to try.
I doubt the King of Gold has had the chance to torture a Reaper before.
“Zarev,” Rapunzel cries, falling down beside me. Her golden hair is everywhere, but her grip is insistent as she pulls on my arm, fisting my cloak as well. “Get up! Get up now!”
“Rapunzel, get out of there!” Midas’ voice drones on someplace nearby, but splotches fill my vision and I can’t focus. There’s footsteps someplace to my right, and I grasp the scythe once more before swiping it to the side. Whoever is rushing at us falls to the ground, and it’s only a momentary distraction as they scream.
“You have to get up,” she pleads, tugging at my clothes. “Please! Make us invisible again and get us out of here!”
“Can’t,” I growl, clenching my teeth. “Your father made sure I can’t use my magic.”
I don’t know how, since Death is absolute, but the inhumane gold Midas wields can hold onto anything, even the shadows.
He’s twisted his curse. I don’t know exactly what he’s done, but even the golden touch shouldn’t overpower my shadows. He is magic, but I am Death.
More steps, and I’m debating in my head what to do to keep the attacks at bay, but Rapunzel leaves my side, and I press a hand to my chest, digging at the gold embedded in my skin.
Crying out, I try to dig a chunk free. It’s hooked into my flesh, tearing skin and muscle as I try to wretch it free. It’s going to take too long with people fighting all around us, and briefly I notice that Arthur’s guards are clashing with Midas’. The death of Modred sparked a war between them. We just happen to be sitting in the center.
All of a sudden, my right hand is weightless as something tears the scythe free. I snap my gaze up, knowing that no mere mortal can wield a weapon of the dead…
Rapunzel staggers, trying and failing to balance the weight of my weapon in her hands. There’s still blood on her arms, and tears tracking down her face that I hadn’t even noticed.
But the scythe glows, something that only happens when a Reaper touches it. My jaw drops, watching as she hefts it up just as one of Midas’ guards approaches.
“Princess,” he says tensely.
“Begone Theo,” she snarls, jabbing at him with the scythe. I’ve never seen such poor form in my life, but she’s managing to move with it so that’s a start. The guard, Theo, looks somewhere between disappointed and amused watching her. “Go back to Midas. We’re leaving.”
“You know I cannot permit either of you to leave. When Arthur is handled the King will speak with you.” His gaze shifts to me, cruel amusement painting there. “And you will be punished for breaking into the kingdom.”
She snarls, lunging forward. He dodges her attack, the weapon too uneven in her grip and it clatters back to the floor, the blade slamming into then through the floor of gold. She looks winded, but it’s close enough again for me to grab at the handle.
There’s no sense in trying to dig out the gold in my chest. I’m wasting time and it could cost me my life. Golden Girl might be able to move my blade, but she cannot wield it.
Snatching the handle, I twist the blade and lurch it out of the floor, slash upward. Using my momentum, I force myself to stand again, refusing to show any weakness to these men. The guard cries out when the scythe catches his thigh, his hands dropping his own sword to grasp at the handle of my weapon.
I sway on my feet, but manage to pull the blade free of his skin. He screams as flesh tears, spurts of blood rushing out as he coughs. Rapunzel backs away quickly, eyes wide.
Glancing around the room, I spot Midas and Arthur. They are swordfighting, but Midas’ blade is pure gold and he wields it with an unfair advantage. Whenever Arthur lunges, he sends beads of gold rushing past the other King.
He’ll win that fight, but it won’t be fair. Arthur is powerful, and ending the Camelot King might work against Midas if word gets out.
“We have to go,” I gasp to Rapunzel, my chest feeling heavy as the pain ebbs away. I’m not afraid of this killing me, but it’s slowing me down. “Now, before anyone tries to stop us.”
Rapunzel glances at me, the blood dripping slowly down her arms. She’s earned a few scuffs and bruises in the fray, and as I watch her, a nagging sensation taps at my brain. The call of Death is washing over me, telling me to go to the souls that are separating from their bodies. People are dying in this room, and the Reaper side of me knows I need to help.
But there’s nothing to be done while I’m in this state. I need to heal before I can guide anyone to the beyond.
“You want to leave the castle?” she breathes, wide eyed as she looks around.
“You can stay if you want, Princess,” I growl, turning to jog away. The scythe is heavier than I remember, making my steps uneven with it slung over my shoulder. The damn gold is giving me issues, holding on as it burrows into my skin. “But I have to get out of this castle.”
Her hurried footsteps follow me, and I take down two more of her father’s guards who stand in my way. They don’t know what to make of me, and either my appearance or my magic terrifies them enough that they are easy targets. I rush from the room with heavy steps, the soft padding of her footsteps following me.
Her hand catches mine, trying to guide me away. “Come on, I know the way back to the tower. You can hide there-”
I stop running, causing her to stumble. “Rapunzel, we’re not going back to the tower. You took a stance against the King. I fought with him. The only safe place we can possibly go is down from the tower. You have to leave this castle.”