Daughter of Death

Life is really an amazing thing, that scientists try to explain, but really, its all fixed together by magic. Life isn't a natural occurrence.

And of course, here I was, admiring life and wandering among the dead. But hey, that's my life(?) for you.

"What is wrong with you, B?"

I sat up on my bed, guiltily shoving the books under my pillow. "Hi, Reagon," I say.

"Well B?" He asked, leaning against my doorframe perfectly. "What were you doing?"

"Reading." I slide out of my bed and walk over to him. "Lets go do something, I'm bored."

But instead he smiles mischievously and dances past me, over to my bed.

"Stop, Reagon!" I whine. "Please?"

"What do you have to hide from me, Belial?" He smirks. His pitch black hair is all in his face and at its longest point is down to his shoulders. His eyes are a deep red, his skin deathly pale, and he's tall and lanky. The average Servant.

"Lots of things," I snap, pulling on his arm. "Please, come on."

He ignores me and pulls the book out from under my pillow. I smack it out of his hand and tackle him to the ground. He's smirking. "B, why can't I see the book? I mean, what is it."

"That's kind of the reason you're pinned to the floor. No."

"Whats so bad. Its just a book?" He moves me effortlessly and picks up the book. But his eyes are shut. "I'm not going to look at it unless you say its okay."

What can I say. Reagon's a sweetie on the inside, and my best friend. "Fine, look at the damn book."

"Are you sure?"

"Just look at it."

Se opens his eyes and reads the spine. "This again?" He asks in a slightly disapproving voice.

I close my eyes and lean against the footboard of my bed. "Its always that, Reagon."

I know what he's talking about, as he was the one who caught me last time. My obsession with the living world worries everyone, and I'd managed to convince them it was over, just a phase. Reagon had been the hardest one to convince.

"If I find you a living cat, will it stop?" He asks, a beg.

"No, but if you got me a living cat I'd pretend it was." I smile fakely at him, but he's still watching me with a slight frown.

"Why?" He asks me simply.

"I have no idea. I just... Love the idea of it, Ray. Living, the sun, all the colors, a sky, the people. Please don't tell anyone Reagon. Especially not Father. He'll give me the lecture again."

"I wont tell anyone B, but really... This is... Wrong. You aren't alive. Your job is to watch over the dead. Duties you've been neglecting, by the way. I actually came up to tell you that Syccion is looking for you."

"Nice to know you just visit me for business."

"I spend all of my free time with you. C'mon, we can talk about this later." He stands up and puts my book in one of my pillow cases with a wink. I stand up and follow him out of the room.
~
Being the youngest child of Death, and a girl, I have different responsibilities than most. This is a very male-dominated society, the Underworld, seeing as there are very few women, and I fight to be one of the guys, and it works, even if I still where dresses everyone know not to mess with me. I can be just as big a demon as any of the others.

Reagon leads the way out of the castle, his translucent skin flickering in the dim light of the cold-fire torches. Everything was cold here, but when you were never warm, you got used to it. How could you miss something you'd never had? I wanted warmth, I dreamed of it.

The castle is darkly themed, with tapestries of gruesome scenes of death and things of the like. Carvings in the dark stone were equally malevolent.

We didn't leave through the huge front doors. Reagon brushed aside one of tapestries and behind it was one of the Servant's tunnels. I knew them like the back of my hand because I was almost always with Reagon. All the castle servants loved me, not just because they had to, but because I acted like one of their own, messing around with Reagon and helping cook in the kitchens when I was bored.

We arrived at a door that opened into the kitchens, which we wandered throgh until we got to the door that led to the herb gardens. "Where is Syccion?" I ask.

"With the ferrier."

"Why?"

"I don't know, its not my business."

We both snort and laugh. But of course, the ferrier's quaters are at the Gates, and the Gates are five minutes of a walk from the River, and always freaking cingested with souls. Reagon leads me in a roundabout way towards the Gates, which are about ten minutes walk from the castle, so we don't have to manuver around the Shepherds. The walk is on an old path.

The castle is on the highest point in the Underworld, so its all downhill on either side. I look at my glorious home and wonder who wouldn't dream of the Overworld? Dead fields stretch on for a while, in which Shepherds are taking their groups of souls to where they belong, and other Servants move one errands.

As we get closer to the gates Shepherds stop their groups to bow, Sevants bow, things along those lines. Reagon ignores it and hurries on. I nodd to them in respect, though.

The Gates are huge, black and beautifully wrought iron. They're open now, but sometimes block the entire tunnel that leads to the River. We have to go through the gates now, and the pathe leads us to the edge so we don't have to forge a path through the thick throng of the dead. Who all stare at us with gaping eyes and sad faces. They know they're about to be judged.

We get through and walk in even more silence past the steady lines of souls moving to the Gates. The only light in this tunnel comes from the souls themselves.

Eventually we get to the River, and Syccion is standing on the dock. He turns to look at us as we approach.

Syccion is one of Father's trustees, and controls everything to deal with what souls do from the moment they arrive to their judgement, which can only mean one thing. He turns when I step onto the dock. Reagon hangs respectfully behind. "There you are Belial," he says flatly. His skin is stretched taught over his bones, even more so than Reagon.

"Syccion," I reply. "Have you a job for me?"

"Yes. Death has decided that it is high time you tried judgement. Go to the Pavilion, where Rincon will meet and supervise you."

"Why didn't you just send Reagon to tell me to go directly to the pavilion?" I wonder, out loud.

Syccion stares at me unemotionally, but thats how it always is. I shrug and leave, Reagon following after me. "You really shouldn't needle him so. Syccion is to be respected, even by one of your status."

"I know that. I hadn't meant to say it out loud," I say. "But I had a point."

Reagon matches his stride to mine and rolls his eyes. "It doesn't matter Belial. He's nearly three thousand years older than you are."

Now I roll my eyes. We pass back through the Gates and head with the crowd of souls, occaisionally stepping directly through them. We get to the Judgement Pavilion, and Rincon is waiting at the entrance. I make my way over to him. Rincon is Syccion's son.

"Belial," he says respectfully.

Reagon stands back a ways, waiting for a dismissal. I turn to look at him. "Come find me when I'm done and your free, okay?"

"Of course." Reagon grins at me, bows to Rincon, and leaves.

"You really shouldn't spend so much time with the Servants," Rincon says dissaprovingly. "You aren't a child anymore. You have duties to uphold."

"Say it again, Rincon," I growl. "Now, what am I supposed to do?"

The Judgement pavillion is a circle of paved stones, forming a mosaic with a skull on it, and on one end is a raised platform where several Jurors would judge the souls. Rincon leads me up to my own desk and chair, between two others.

"Now," Rincon instructs. "When a soul steps forward, their goods and bads will appear in front of you. You will judge their actions and assign them afterlives accordingly."

"Not to hard," I say.

"Ah, ah, if your judgements prove biased or to merciful you will have to take classes to help your judgemnet. Death seemed to think you could go without classes."

"Okay."

"Ready to begin?"

"Sure."

"Alright." He tapped my desk and a soul floated towards me, and a stack of paper appeared on my desk.

Number: 788962 Name: Jennifer Clair Mackintosh Age: 27 Circumstance of Death: Car Accident

I go onto read about all of her good deeds, and misdeeds. Eventually I look up and down at her. she's standing on the floor in front of my desk, watching me carefully. Only twenty-seven years of life. Wasn't the average lifespan for humans almost seventy years?

I chew my lip and look back at Reagon. He looks back at me.

I pull the blank sheet of paper towards me, along with the writer. I write her number, then her sentence. Twenty years in servitude, then to the Afterlife.

I look back at Rincon. "Is this good?"

"Do you think so?"

"Yes."

"Then continue on."

The rest of my time spent in the Judgement Pavilion was one of the most honsetly interesting things in my existance so far.