Death's Mantle 2

by Harmon Cooper

  Leliel nodded. “What she likely didn’t tell you is that whenever the Progeny of Light decides to revisit the Earth in the form of a human, once they return to our spiritual plane of existence, they have to rebuild their power. Unfortunately, we don’t build power as quickly as your kind. As Death, you could theoretically go and hunt to your heart’s content. You don’t have to rest, you can just keep hunting to refill your power. Our cycling works differently than that, and while there is a lot of hope out there, and it isn’t always very strong, Death always wins.”

  “So that’s why she went soft on me, she wasn’t fully powered yet. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “It is merely my theory, but yes.”

  “Good to know,” Lucian told her, returning his focus to his predecessor. “I feel like I have so much to ask you, but I suppose we should deal with the most pressing matter: what am I supposed to do about the Committee? They sure got a lot of questions for you. If you don’t meet with them, they’re going to take it out on me.”

  “The cowards. And meeting with those stuffy hornswogglers is about the last thing I would like to do at the moment,” Old Death said with a groan. “But I can understand that they are curious as to what happened at the South Wind.” He looked to his counterpart. “Alas, it appears as if the war between Life and Death is inevitable, no matter how we frame what happened at the South Wind, just as we have discussed.”

  The angel turned away, a dark look on her face.

  “So what do you propose we do then?” Lucian asked, interrupting their little moment.

  “I propose we answer them, but we do so in a way that makes things worse for all sides.”

  “Are you sure, Cuthbert?” Leliel asked, turning back to the conversation.

  “I am, my dear. This is the chance we’ve been waiting for.”

  Lucian couldn’t quite figure out his predecessor’s angle. “Why would we want to make things worse? Am I missing something here?”

  “Because sometimes, that’s the only way to make things better,” Old Death explained. “The next war between our two sides is inevitable, and it is through the rebuilding process that we will be able to put things back together in a way that is more beneficial for both sides. Leadership at the top needs to change, but as long as they are coordinating with each other to keep us apart, nothing will ever happen. So that’s my answer. We bring everyone to the table, and we do it later today so we can be done with it and move on.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Violent Echos

  Lucian paced as he considered his predecessor’s plan.

  Even though he didn’t completely agree with it, he was going to go along with the strategy, for once listening to the people who had more experience in these affairs than he did.

  Lucian was by no means a fan of how things were between Life and Death. But if what Old Death had hinted at was true, that there was calculated collusion between the forces at the top to keep the forces at the bottom confused and warring against one another, then maybe this really was the only option.

  Maybe it was the only way.

  Lucian had two things he wanted to do before everything kicked off later that afternoon, and one wasn’t going to take but a moment.

  His crows still huddling before him, his sentry tripods set up, and his robotic creations still standing guard, Lucian pressed his thumb and pinky finger together, quickly saying goodbye to the desert and hello to a backyard glazed with snow, no temperature whatsoever associated with his change in location.

  His two Grim Mechas appeared behind him as well, Lucian keenly aware that he was a wanted man. They fanned out as his sentries took shape, all of them getting into position and forming a perimeter around the house.

  “You know what to do,” he said as he pressed through the back door, where he found the living room empty aside from Tuck the cat, who slept under the coffee table.

  Lucian’s crows zipped over his shoulders, quickly moving through his brother’s home as Lucian took a look around the place.

  It was clean, aside from a small pile of Jen’s clothing on the floor, and as he floated toward the kitchen, he passed in front of some of the family photos hanging on the wall.

  These were mostly photos of Connor and Samantha, a trip they’d taken to Miami. There was another photo of Connor wearing a hard hat and holding Sam in his arms, and another one was taken at the hospital; newborn Baby Jen wrapped in blankets with a bright red face.

  For some reason, seeing that photo reminded Lucian of the smell of the hospital.

  He couldn’t even identify the smell, only that it was sterile and cold.

  Standing in front of the photo and remembering what he had been through only made Lucian think of just how strange his world was, that in the same building, a life could first spark or fizzle out, the only thing separating them a set of ceilings and walls.

  How many hospitals had he driven by when he was alive? How many countless lives, both new and old, were contained within the same structure? And how hard was it that he could just pass by, never knowing what lay on the other side.

  Lucian shook his head; he knew where his brother was.

  And rather than gaze at the photos any longer, he slowly began to lower himself into the basement, straight through the concrete and wood, the installation and wiring.

  Lucian found Connor lying on the couch, his head back, his mouth open.

  His kit was next to them, pill residue on a sliver of mirror.

  “No,” Lucian said, a sharp pain boiling through him. “No…”

  It couldn’t be.

  Lucian equipped his shotgun.

  He aimed it at the parasite on his brother’s back, his armor starting to form. His first shot went straight through the demon bug, coming out the other end as the shell flew to the other side of the room.

  He squeezed the trigger again, hoping for better results this time.

  He tried to grab the parasite, his hand going straight through its body.

  And even though he knew it wouldn’t work, Lucian attempted to beat at it with the butt of his shotgun, all to no avail.

  “Lucian?” Connor asked, his eyes going wide, a dazed look on his face.

  “You can hear me?” Lucian’s armor peeled away as he moved in front of his brother, a sense of elation moving coming over him.

  Connor looked around the room, his hands twitching. “You’re not fucking here.”

  “I am here!” Lucian cried, everything darkening around him.

  “If you were here… I don’t know…” Connor said. “I’m sorry…”

  “You have to do something about this. You have to try, you can’t give up…”

  “Whatever…” Connor whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and rolled his head back, getting comfortable again.

  Lucian focused on his brother’s death date, confirming that it was true, that the date had changed again.

  Name: Connor North

  Date of Birth: 11/01/1980

  Date of Death: 12/01/2020

  The parasite was back, and Lucian now had less than a month.

  Hovering above his brother’s rooftop, Lucian could see all the way to the ocean, a pyramid of light spreading across it. There were cars moving up the street, a postal worker parked on the side of the road, a woman and a man walking briskly, both bundled up.

  It was snowing again, just a dusting, really, and as Lucian watched a few flakes fall, he dropped Yoshimi’s geisha comb onto the rooftop.

  “She should be here soon,” he told Hugin, who hovered before him, concern painted across his crow’s face.

  Lucian was ready to teleport away if need be. Azazyel had shown up the previous day uninvited. Who knew if he’d do the same now.

  “It’s going to be a very difficult day,” his crow said in the genderless voice Lucian had assigned it.

  “It is.”

  “We still have time to get stronger before your brother’s death date comes. Look at how strong we have become in this sh
ort amount of time. Do not give up hope, Lucian.”

  “It’s weird to think that I am essentially talking to myself right now,” Lucian mumbled as he looked up at his spherical creation.

  “Maybe it’s best to stop thinking of it like that.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Your crow can talk?”

  Yoshimi stood off to Lucian’s left, as if she had been there the entire time. She was in a dark kimono that was long at the sleeves, her hair down this time, her face less pale than it normally was, a touch of pink around her eyes.

  Startled, Lucian took a step back, almost equipping a weapon out of sheer instinct.

  “Did I frighten you?”

  Lucian lowered his hand. “I’m good; it’s been a rough few days.”

  “Let’s go,” she said, a swirl of pink energy reaching Lucian.

  He expected to appear back in her home, but instead, their forms took shape in a large cave behind the waterfall. It was a cozy space, the cave walls polished like marble, Japanese prints hanging from them, featuring images of the sea, a ronin, an old man carrying a heavy load. It was cozy yet exotic, a place Lucian would have loved to hang around in for a while and just be.

  “Change of scenery?”

  “This is where I rest,” she said, motioning to a cabinet pressed against the rock wall.

  “You rest in the cabinet?”

  Yoshimi smiled. “No, my futon is in there. Do you happen to know many Japanese people that sleep in a cabinet?”

  “Yeah, I guess that doesn’t make sense,” Lucian said, scratching the back of his head.

  “The waterfall isn’t actually water, it’s metal,” she said. “Well, I guess it has the consistency of boiling metal. If anyone is able to find me, they will have to come through that waterfall to reach me. It’s the only way. If they do, it will slow them down considerably.”

  “Good to know,” Lucian said, watching as Munin skidded to a halt in front of the waterfall and changed its trajectory.

  A cushion appeared on the ground, another one across from it, both featuring elaborate embroidery of a dragon twisting around the peak of a mountain, cherry blossoms on the four corners of each cushion.

  Lucian sat, and as he did a polished black table took shape, small treats arranged on plates forming on top of the table. There was an empty plate as well.

  “For your chocolate,” Yoshimi said.

  “You really liked it, huh?”

  She nodded. “Please.”

  Feeling a sense of pride, Lucian swirled his hand over the plate, the chocolates appearing.

  “Why have you called me?”

  “Some things have come up,” Lucian said as she poured him a cup of tea. “For one, Azazyel is looking for you. He came to me, and when I wouldn’t take him to you, he attacked. A single blast from him nearly killed me.”

  “You did that for me?” she asked, pausing as her dark eyes settled on Lucian.

  “Of course I did; you’re my friend. And even if you weren’t my friend, that guy can eat a bag of... Sorry, I guess I shouldn’t talk like that here. Let me try again: Azazyel can go fuck himself.”

  “Your sentiment is appreciated,” Yoshimi said, “and the unrefined way you speak is fine. I quite enjoy the forthright nature of Americans. It is very different from the more reserved Japanese.”

  “It’s hard to be reserved when someone shows up at your brother’s house, asks where your friend is, and attacks you once you won’t give up the goods. Just my two cents.”

  “It appears as if many people are looking for me.”

  “Yeah, you’re a popular lady. The Committee on Luminaries wants to talk to you; I’m sure the Progeny of Light are interested in having a little conversation, and now you have the number one Watcher sniffing around for you. That’s not to mention Death Hunters.”

  “And how’s that going?”

  “It’s going. I haven’t been going after any of them, because I still don’t have that power yet. Or maybe I do have the power, I just haven’t really had the time to sit around and mess with it. I don’t know. It’s been hard to focus lately, especially with the looming deadlines.”

  “Have you found your predecessor?”

  “I have, and that’s another reason I reached out to you,” Lucian said as he took a sip from the tea. It was warm and soothing, something about its flavor reminding him of green tea and honey. “He found me—I guess I should say it like that. I was betrayed, by the way.”

  “By your predecessor?”

  “No, by the angel who I was starting to become friends with. She attacked me with other angels, ambushed me. Anyway, I was still pretty low on Soul Points due to my little confrontation with Azazyel, so instead of fighting them, I ported back to the place I’m staying, which just so happened to be a desert.”

  “Why a desert?”

  Lucian smirked. “I guess I should back up a little bit. Long story short: I took your advice. I checked the world that Old Death had created and discovered that it was surrounded by a desert. Imagine that. So I was out there looking for him, which was why I returned to the desert once I teleported away from the angels. But anyway, like I said, I was low on power and so after I set up some sentry weapons, I took a little rest. I woke up and I shit-you-not, Old Death was standing there with the angel that he’d been imprisoned with at the South Wind, Leliel. So they found me. ”

  “And what did he say?”

  “Not a lot, but to confirm your suspicions, he only gave me a part of his mantle. I don’t know how much. The guy was friendly as always, using old slang that I didn’t really understand, the usual stuff. Because the Committee is closing in on me, he’s going to help out.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Sort of. It’s another reason why I am here. I wanted to tell you about his plan, and what is about to go down.”

  “Please, go on,” Yoshimi said as she set her teacup down and went for a chocolate.

  She ate the piece of chocolate slowly as Lucian explained his predecessor’s plan, occasionally offering a nod at what he told her.

  “Anyway, that’s the gist of it,” Lucian said as he finished up.

  “I see.” Yoshimi was silent for a moment, a line finally knitting between her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Lucian.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  “If you have come here to ask me for my help in this matter, I am unable to do so. Please do not call me when all of this happens.”

  “Yeah,” Lucian said as he swallowed hard. “I get it. I really do. I’m not so keen on his idea either, but I see his point, and I’m going to go along with it. But to cut to one of the things that he said: do you think the people at the top are coordinating? He mentioned that the Progeny of Light and Death, those at the top, are keeping all of us at war.”

  “I’ve had my suspicions,” she admitted.

  “That’s why I’m going along with it. I believe him.”

  “Then that is entirely your prerogative,” Yoshimi said as she used a pair of chopsticks to take another chocolate. “And he does make a fair point, I just don’t want to be the one responsible for doing this, nor the likely repercussions.”

  “I’m trying to avoid those as well. That’s why my role in it is kind of limited in his plan. I’m just there to bring the Committee. The rest is on him and his angel.”

  She nodded. “Well, I wish you luck. I’m afraid that whatever happens today will be something that continues to have violent echoes once it has passed.”

  “I figured as much.” Lucian shook his head. “Things could be simple, you know?”

  “Perhaps they could, but they usually aren’t.”

  “I guess we aren’t that much different from the humans we once were. Which brings me to my next issue,” Lucian said, recalling his brother’s death date. “The parasite is back.”

  “The parasite?”

  “The one on my brother. His death date is sooner now too, at the end of the month, if you can believe that.”<
br />
  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Yoshimi said, some of the color draining from her face. At least Lucian imagined it did.

  “I know you told me not to check on my family, but I just have to see this through,” Lucian said. “So I stopped in before calling you. I’m sorry,” he said, losing his train of thought. “This is just… Not what I expected.”

  “You cannot engage the parasite?”

  “Nope. I tried, but not this one. I have to get stronger,” he said, gritting his teeth. “It’s the only way.”

  “I would be willing to help you if you aren’t able to get to that level by the necessary date,” Yoshimi told him with a slight bow of her head. “But first, you should try to do so on your own.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Lucian said, not able to make eye contact now, feeling weak all of a sudden.

  “It’s the least I could do, especially as I’m not able to assist you later today.”

  “Is it always this complicated, being Death?”

  A slight grin formed on Yoshimi’s face. “Do you want the real answer to that question?”

  “I figured as much.”

  The two sipped their teas silently for a moment, Lucian’s crows still zipping around the room.

  Lucian cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, I wanted to know more about this mantlecore situation. I need to know how to use it, and how using it affects me.”

  “I suppose I should explain it to you, especially with what you are set to face.” Yoshimi stood, motioning Lucian toward her. “Come, I have a place at the back of the cave where we can practice.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Mantlecore

  Yoshimi led Lucian down a narrow pathway that opened up into a cavernous space, the ceilings twice as tall as they had been in the other room, the floor slick and black.

  “Is this where you train?”

  “It is,” she said. “Do you have a similar place to train?”

  “Yeah, I think I told you about it. It’s on top of Old Death’s home. His home is built into a cliff, and I cut out a place for myself on top of the cliff. I made a little workshop too. It’s quaint.”