A Shade of Vampire 87: A Shade of Mystery

by Forrest, Bella

  Unending shook her head. “I never said I was better, but if you keep wasting my time, I’ll gladly prove it.”

  The first Reaper took a step forward, his scythe glowing menacingly. “That is as far as you go,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I have been granted the authority to strike back on behalf of Death. Consider this your last warning.”

  “Baby, will you give me a moment?” Unending asked me, smiling softly.

  “They basically called me your boy toy. By all means, knock yourself out, honey,” I replied with a wink, then moved back so she’d have room to manifest.

  The two Reapers were prepared to attack, and I was certain Death had given them the authority to hit hard against anyone who tried to move past them. I doubted they had the juice to take on someone like Unending, though. Or any of the First Tenners, for that matter. That wouldn’t stop Unending from knocking them on their asses.

  Tension rose. I could feel it gathering in my chest, pressing harder as the seconds unfurled in murderous silence. It seemed like the whole world was about to explode. Unending brought her own weapon out, smiling. “All right. You’ve brought this upon yourselves.”

  A spirit emerged from the palace. “Stop!” she shouted, her white Victorian-style nightgown fluttering in the wind. It wasn’t really subject to the physical effects of natural elements, however. It was merely part of her spiritual echo—part of her existence that remained with her beyond death.

  Unending eyed her curiously. “I know you…”

  “What is the meaning of this?!” the second Reaper barked, clearly irritated by the interruption. He’d been gripping his scythe with such intensity that his knuckles had turned white.

  “Death allows Unending and Tristan to approach the palace,” the spirit lady said, unflinching and apparently bored by the Reapers’ violent enthusiasm to take on a First Tenner. I could see why Death had chosen them as guardians—they were young, in a deathly sense, and eager to please. The perfect material for her to mold into whatever she liked. “And you two will stand down and resume your positions.”

  The first Reaper seemed more baffled than annoyed. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, I definitely know you,” Unending said, unable to take her galaxy eyes off the spirit lady. “You’re Mina Vangelion. A human of Earth. You died about a year ago. The goth poet.”

  The spirit lady nodded, bowing politely. “I am, indeed. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “You seem to belong to another era,” I noted. “Certainly not the contemporary human world I come from. Your speech pattern alone is a clear differentiator.”

  “Ah. I’m afraid that’s entirely my own fault. I had a fascination with Victorian England and the more recent steampunk trend. The art, the music, the inventions…” Mina said, almost giggling. “Upon my death and relocation to this marvelous palace, I was told that I could be anyone or anything I wanted. I figured this was a good time to apply everything I’d learned about that era and really make it my own.”

  “Kind of like a second life,” I murmured.

  She smiled broadly. “Indeed. Now, please come along. Death will not tolerate guests for long.”

  Unending and I followed Mina into the palace, leaving the disgruntled Reapers behind. They glared at us, obviously displeased, but Unending didn’t give a damn. She flipped them off without even an over-the-shoulder glance. “Back to your posts,” she said.

  The palace interior made me feel small and insignificant. Its design was mostly traditional Chinese, with bamboo frames, rice paper walls, and sliding screen doors. But the corridor floor was a smooth marble, while the rooms were neatly carpeted with artfully stylized portraits of Death adorning each wall. As we walked toward the throne room, I looked to my left, then my right, observing everything along the way. Portraits of famous once-living people had been added on each northern wall—delicate watercolors on rice paper with black frames to match the overall style.

  “The images you see are of people whose spirits once resided here,” Mina said, observing my curious glances. “There used to only be portraits of her, but she decided to give the rooms a more personal vibe for their inhabitants by allowing a single image of theirs to be hung as well. There were also more occupants per room, but now we each have our own. I guess you can say it’s a comfortability upgrade.”

  “I recognize a few of these people.”

  “It’s Death’s way of keeping friends. She selects, personally reaps, and brings them here for undefined periods of time, just so she can feel less lonely,” Unending replied, her lips pressing into a thin line. She despised this habit of Death’s, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

  Mina giggled. “I suppose. But it’s fun for us. We get to live new lives, like you said. Our rooms are tiny universes of their own. Look…” She stopped in front of a chamber and slid the paper door to the side. My breath wandered off into the unknown as I beheld an entire, literal universe encompassed within the four walls of the room.

  “This is insane…” I managed.

  “Another upgrade!” Mina exclaimed, then pointed to a distant star near the center of the chamber. “See that sun there? That’s an inhabited solar system. This room belongs to Thelonious Marquis, the—”

  “Famed astrophysicist of Calliope, yes!” I finished, recognizing the name. “I remember him. He died at sea, didn’t he?”

  Mina’s gaze dropped for a moment. “Yes. He was on an exploratory mission to the north pole of Calliope about five years ago. Unfortunately, his knowledge and fire fae talents did not save him from the mass of water that swallowed him whole. But Death had him brought here, and he’s made a home in this place. Right there, in that solar system.”

  “A universe of his own?” Unending asked, and Mina nodded enthusiastically.

  “It’s what Thelonious wanted. A world of his own to populate, to build from the ground up,” she said. “We each get something in return for staying here and keeping Death company. It’s her way of compensating for holding us back in this realm.”

  “Typical,” Unending mumbled.

  Mina closed the door to Thelonious’s room and continued guiding us down the seemingly endless hallway. I caught glimpses of other chambers along the way. Some of the residents had left the sliding doors open, and I was in awe of what I saw. In one instance, a daemon of Neraka had been given a throne. He ruled over a kingdom of his own, populated with faux daemons who worshipped and served him. Most of the faces I’d come across in this palace seemed more or less familiar—fearsome generals and ruthless conquerors, pioneers of science and literary geniuses… all people who’d made one significant difference or another in their worlds. People Death herself had noticed and plucked from their bodies, leaving her mark on their necks in spirit form.

  “You think it’s selfish,” Mina said after a while. “What Death is doing.”

  “Absolutely. None of you belong here. The afterlife is supposed to be your final destination. Not this canvas of illusions,” Unending replied. “But I won’t say more. If this is what she wants, I have no power to stop it. It’s not my place, anyway.”

  Mina laughed lightly. “Right, you have angered her already. No need to add fuel to that fire.”

  “Does everybody know about the seal?” I asked, trying hard not to be amused. The drama surrounding Death and the Reapers had a bittersweet edge, and I’d found it better to laugh than brood over it.

  “Not really. It’s mostly just those of us she keeps close,” Mina replied. “It still bothers her, you know… that there’s a limit on her power.”

  “It’s a specific limit, though,” Unending said. “She isn’t allowed to kill my creations. Everything else is fine. I don’t get why she’s fussing over it… unless killing my creations and the very people who helped free her is her only goal.”

  Mina frowned. “No. It’s not about that. It’s about the limit itself. The fact that there is a limit. The mere thought is sometimes unbearable to her. I suppos
e the Thousand Seals really did a number on her psyche.” She stopped at the end of the hallway, where a huge screen door with black cherry wood frames awaited. “Here we are.”

  She stepped to the side, allowing Unending and me to reach the door.

  “Thank you,” Unending said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you died so young. You had an incredible life ahead of you. I’ve read many of your poems, and they were beautiful and profound.”

  “Yes, well, I suppose the universe doesn’t care much for one’s art.” Mina sighed. “For what it’s worth, I’m still writing poems in the comfort of my room.”

  “When you’re not hanging around Death,” Unending replied.

  “We all do what we can.” Mina bowed once more before vanishing.

  Unending and I were left on our own outside Death’s throne room. The silence was almost unbearable, especially since we both knew who was waiting beyond the door. Someone larger than life with enough power to end entire worlds merely by snapping her fingers. Someone who could very well be our only shot at having children. Such cruel irony that our road had led us back to the one entity we’d hoped to never have to deal with again.

  Tristan

  “This is a surprise,” Death said as the screen doors slid open. “I haven’t seen you two in a while.”

  “I suppose we haven’t been missed,” Unending replied, stepping onto the black floor. Whatever material this was, it had been polished to perfection, and I could see myself reflected in its surface. I’d been in this throne room before, but the décor changed each time. Death didn’t seem to like one design for too long. On this occasion, we were treated to a sullen ballet of black and gold lines crossing the circular wall. They seemed to go on forever, lazily spiraling upward and vanishing into a domed ceiling of muted white light.

  Death smiled from her seat on her elegant obsidian throne. “On the contrary. I always miss you when you’re away, my darling, regardless of our sometimes-abrasive dynamic.” Her long black hair flowed much like the silk of her equally black dress. A single white stripe, no wider than an inch, ran down the fabric from the base of her neck to the bottom hem. Thieron stood proudly, mounted into a small hole in the floor, its blade capturing the pale light and breaking it into billions of colors that danced around it.

  “I assumed you’d resent me forever.”

  “No. Forever is a long time, Unending,” Death replied. “If there is one thing I’ve learned from the events of twenty years ago, it’s that an eternity is still precious and shouldn’t be wasted harboring poisonous feelings. I do apologize for the Reapers outside. They’re sticklers for my rules.”

  I kept my mouth shut, waiting for Death to address me. Her presence was intimidating, even after all these years. This was the one force of the universe I didn’t dare trifle with. Thanks to the seal that Unending had left inside her, Death couldn’t kill me. But she could make my life miserable if she wanted to. Fortunately, that had not been the case thus far.

  “I suppose you like that about them,” Unending said. “Their blind obedience.”

  “I’m trusting them to protect my privacy. So yes.”

  “Well, for what it’s worth, you’ve picked a fine pair to guard you. The only problem is that they’re no match for First Tenners.”

  Death nodded slowly. “I know, but if any of my first children come by, I know it’s for an important reason. In that case, I allow ingress like I did with you and Tristan.” She paused to look at me for a moment. Whenever I looked into the black pools of her eyes, I nearly lost myself. Stars twinkled in that darkness, but the first thing that always struck me was the emptiness there, rather than the trillions of galaxies that dwelled within. “Hello, Tristan. You’re looking well.”

  “I’m healthy and happy,” I replied politely. “You look ravishing, as always.”

  “Your compliments are always welcome.” Death chuckled softly. “They do little for my cosmic ego, I suppose, but still… they’re nice. Thank you.”

  I’d learned a while back that Death was receptive to kind words. She wasn’t a fan of lavish praise, but a couple of sincere compliments took me farther than other tactics. It was a question of paying attention to her, of acknowledging and admiring her. Like most other forces of this endless cosmos, Death thrived on inklings of affection. She accepted them wherever she could get them. As a living creature involved in a relationship with her first Reaper, I’d made it my duty to elevate myself above everyone else with a breath and a beating heart. The standard was higher for me—or at least I felt like it was.

  “What brings you here?” Death asked, moving her gaze back to Unending. “I would like to revert to my… selective company.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why the isolation?” Unending replied.

  “I’ve got a new soul to play with,” Death said, smiling vaguely. “A brilliant neurosurgeon of Earth named Timothy. He’s going to stay here for a couple of years, at least.”

  Unending would’ve liked nothing more than to berate Death about keeping souls from the afterlife, but we had a favor to ask of her. The last thing we needed was to irk her in any way. Unending allowed herself a deep breath before raising our issue. “May he keep you in good spirits,” she said. “Tristan and I have come for a rather… personal reason. I was hoping we could discuss it with open minds.”

  “By all means, darling. Tell me all about it.”

  “There is one thing that has come to mean a lot to me over the years since my release from Visio,” Unending continued. “My existence with Tristan is everything I could have hoped for. I know true happiness now, and I have you to thank for at least part of it.”

  She didn’t. Not really. But making Death feel like she’d contributed to our wellbeing was part of the shtick. It seemed to work. “You’re too kind, Unending. I’ve not been the most generous mother…”

  “Even so, you’ve done the best you could, at least in the past few years. Tristan and I would like to start a family of our own. It’s the one thing I have never done, not as myself. The one thing I’ve realized I want most.”

  Death stilled. Her expression was virtually unreadable, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her head. Noticing the silence, Unending continued.

  “Before we consider adoption, Tristan and I have agreed to explore more… natural options. It’s childbirth I wish to experience. The woman whose soul was copied to make mine never had children of her own either, so I suppose I’d be fulfilling her dream in addition to mine. I’ve thought about this a lot. Conceiving life. Growing it in my womb and then bringing it into the world. Our souls forever connected… I want that more than anything else.”

  Death still didn’t answer. She just stared at us.

  “What… what do you think?” Unending asked. I could feel her anxiety, and I had plenty of my own broiling inside me.

  “My darling. You’re not alive. You cannot bear children,” Death replied, her eyes slightly narrowed. “I thought that would be obvious…”

  “No, it is, of course. But I’m looking for a way to perhaps get myself into a physical body to make it possible,” Unending said. “None of my Visio vessels gave me the opportunity to feel a pregnancy. I was trapped in there. They weren’t really my bodies, if that makes sense. I wish to experience a full and free life, complete with childbirth, which is more than my original ever had and still less than what I came into this world with. There’s a huge piece of me missing… and it can only be taken from living.”

  Death scoffed, and a ball of anguish spun in the pit of my stomach. “What is dead must stay dead. The rule applies to you, as well. How could you even think such nonsense?”

  “What is so wrong about wanting to experience things for myself?” Unending replied, tension gathering in her wavering voice. “What is so wrong about wanting to experience the joy and the love of a family, of children of my own? You made me this way—empty—and I’m just trying to fill the voids.”

  “You are del
uding yourself if you think you’ll ever have a baby. Unending, darling… you’re not alive. You cannot just plop yourself into some foreign body to make children. It’s absurd!” Death shot back, a cold smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I expected more of you in terms of logical thinking. Death magic may be vast and resourceful, but it belongs to this realm, not to Tristan’s. There is no shortcut back to life. You don’t have a body to go back to. You were never alive to begin with. Had you been the original soul, maybe I would’ve been able to strike a deal with Order and get your deceased body back. After all, a body never really ceases to exist, even after it decays.”

  “Wait, what do you mean?” I asked, baffled by the revelation.

  Death sighed. “Once a creature is born, its body is permanent. It’s a combination of particles. Sure, decay and fire destroy its original composition, but those particles live on. They spread through the world. Your remains will feed the earth. They’ll turn into stardust, someday. But the body, regardless of its shape and size, can be remade with its living soul. I could’ve done it, had Unending been the original soul. But she isn’t. The original body would never accept her, only its first and only inhabitant.”

  Unending and I exchanged troubled glances. The look on my beloved’s face told me she’d known about this all along. “You never mentioned this,” I murmured, then realized something. “You both let Nethissis think that becoming a Reaper was her only option.”

  “It was. The only way for a soul to return to its destroyed body, such as Nethissis’s case, is with help from Order. That would’ve meant for Nethissis to be reaped, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee that Order would help,” Death explained. “It is a complicated issue, Tristan, with many intricacies involved. Nethissis is better off as she is, believe me. Her strong spirit would’ve made her precious to the afterlife, as well. I doubt Order would’ve let her go. At least, this way, she’s with Seeley.”