SBI ONESHOTS

Reaper's Son

((Art by _wrightflyer_ on Twitter))

The dust finally settled in the fresh crater that was once home to a country of people.

Still, as much pain circulated through his body, he couldn't find himself to regret any of it, even no matter how much he wanted.

L'Manburgh was never his home no matter how hard he tried to make it. He was always the problem and he realized that now but it didn't matter anymore. He couldn't take back what he did or said.

So he sat on one of the small ledges of the hole, dangling his legs over the fall and looking out at the destruction. He wasn't sure what was next for him, but he waited for it with patience.

A bird caw was heard overhead and he looked up to see a jet black crow swim elegantly through the air singing broken songs.

Crows weren't native around these parts which Wilbur found strange but what was stranger was when it turned and landed on his knee with ease.

Crows didn't usually interact with ghosts either.

That's when Wilbur realized what was happening.

He had seen this bird before but to his disappointment when he turned to look its owner was nowhere to be found.

With a sigh, he turned back to face the bird on his leg before offering it 2 of his fingers to perch on and began to pet it with his free hand.

"Where is she at?" He asked rhetorically to the crow which answered with another caw.

"I still don't know how mom understands you." He pressed his hand against his cheek and squinted at the creature's dark eyes.

There was no sound but a subtle shift in the air changed cold.

"I know you were coming."

"The bird gave it away." He lifted the bird gently higher and finally turned to look up at the woman he hadn't seen since birth.

"Are you proud of me," He asked with a broken smile and tears, a joke only he gets.

"Of your pitiful mortal son, O'dear Goddess of death?"

She stands tall and still but her sad eyes give away her emotions.

She weeps for him, his time taken too soon by her own love. How cruel was it to have to collect the spirit of your son? How cruel was it to have fallen in love with a man cursed with one life?

Kristin holds her hand out. Wilbur sighs, the crow on his hand takes flight and he takes the woman's hand. It was the same familiar cold he remembered as a child.

"I wish there was more I could've done." She says slowly, "I wish I could've been there to see you all grow."

She moves her hand to his cheek which he leans into the touch.

"My baby." she cries as she turns her head to the debris around them. "My first gift."

"You've done much here in your life but it's time for rest." She explains clearly and calmly despite the tears.

"Mom."

Wilbur brings her into a hug.

"I'm sorry."

She returned the foreign action, taking fistfuls of the back of the man's coat, "You were more than you could ever realize."

She parted away placing her hand back on his cheek, "You've grown so beautifully, you and your brothers. You're all so talented young men."

Never in her whole line of work as the Goddess of death, she had never shed a tear over death because it's all she knew.

Then she fell in love and was gifted with three sons she could never raise.

She always knew her first proper interaction with her children would be through death which was a burden she had to live with but to see one so soon pained her. She thought they'd have more time.

She thought she'd have more time.

With a deep breath, she removed herself from Wilbur and scooped the bird up into the palm of her hand.

"It's time."

Wilbur bit his lip and gave the land around him one last sweep with his eyes taking in everything no matter how ugly.

It was ugly because of him.

He took another breath and turned to his mother with a heavy heart.

"I'm ready."

With that, they left the living together to their beginning.