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thirteen

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Within the next moon cycle, the rest of Reaper’s restless souls were soothed.

The pain was unbearable leading up to the last day, shoulders taught with exertion until I realized why.

Two thick buds protruded from my back.

Reaper massaged them daily, watching as bones began to sprout from them.

With all the scythes working together to get everyone settled in, every day brought an influx of joy, of contentment with more and more splendors finding their compara.

While my canthymn may not have gotten them here, it was the song that remained closest to my soul.

It had brought me Reaper after all.

Rap, rap, rap.

Rap, rap, rap.

Their steady beat sustained me before and it would sustain me for millennia to come.

Each morning I awoke in my fig tree, savoring the scrape of bark against my limbs.

Sometimes Reaper climbed up and slept with me there, other times they coaxed me to long nights in bed.

Day after day, we began to build a life together.

Reaper taught me how to cook, and we travelled to distant lands, helping grieving souls find solace in the afterlife.

Our nights were spent with the other splendors and their scythes—our family finally reunited.

With so many splendors here, I learned so much about our people.

My mother and elder sisters told me their stories and the myths of our ancestors.

As they did, they primped at my bones, until feathers began to bud from their marrow.

One plume after another joined them, until a full turning had passed.

I stood on our balcony, staring out at Occasus below me, my kin looking on as my compara held me close before releasing me into the wind.

Finally where I belong.