The Reaper's Curse

The Beginning of These Crimson Fates

Lilith's hands fidget against the fabric of her skirts. A bowl of berries and fruits sits untouched on the table between her and the unfamiliar woman who examines her with strange, mismatched eyes. Her eyes are dusted with a dark powder and lined with kohl, her lips painted a deep, almost black, scarlet. She looks to be in her late twenties at the least.

Ceramic clinks behind Lilith, and she welcomes the excuse to turn away. 

Sairah ascends, a silver tray with a tea set in her hands, from the spiral staircase that leads to the kitchen beneath, and into the castle foyer where the two women sit by the window.

The night is deep outside the castle, the stars and the crescent moon invisible behind layers of thick white clouds. 

Sairah had told her the dead only awaken at night. The sunlight makes them dizzy. 

The soft clearing of a throat, and Lilith quickly turns back around, her eyes wide. The woman has leaned forward, closer, her chin propped up by her arm that she rests on her thigh. The milkiness of her left eye leaves Lilith queasy. 

"You're new here?" the woman asks, her voice surprisingly childlike despite her appearance. 

Lilith nods quickly, and she forces her hands to stop moving against her dress. Stop fidgeting. Sit like the princess that you are. 

"Sairah told me you wanted to meet everyone. I'm Cleo. Cleo Garden. I've seen you a few times around the castle, wandering around at night in the rose garden. Welcome to our humble abode," the woman jests, reaching out a slender hand bejewelled with silver rings. Lilith takes it hesitantly, and she nearly jerks back a heartbeat later at the coldness of her skin. 

She has to find her voice again before she speaks. "My name is Lilith."

"Lilith." Each syllable is uttered cleanly, as if she's savouring the feel of the letters on her tongue. "Well, how do you like it here?" Cleo asks as she retracts her hand.

Lilith forgets to reply. Her eyes have drifted to Cleo's boots and leather pants. "Why do you dress like that? Are you unable to afford dresses?"

Cleo chuckles. "I'm afraid the reaper doesn't fancy spending money on the guests who will leave sooner or later. Besides, only people like you..." She drifts off as Sairah quietly places a teacup filled to the brim with dark brown tea in front of her. "Forget I said that."

"What do you⎯⎯⎯⎯"

"You're not dead, are you?"

Lilith startles. Her eyes dart up, and then to Sairah, whose face says she's in just as much shock, before flickering right back to the woman. 

"How did you know...?"

Cleo laughs, a tinkling sound. "You're pretty face doesn't look the least bit dead, darling."

Lilith flushes, heat swallowing her cheeks. 

Cleo picks up her teacup, suddenly serious, her eyes fluttering shut as she inhales the aroma. "I'm not going to question why you're here. Neither am I going to question the reaper. But," she says softly before taking a sip. "I need you to know that there are people here who will not be happy."

Sairah lets out a sound of disapproval. 

Lilith's lips twitch. "Are you trying to threaten me?"

Cleo's eyes flicker open. The amber flames of her right eye burn into Lilith. "Many of us resent the living. After all, wouldn't you hate someone who has something you don't?"

"Miss Cleo. Please, watch what you⎯⎯⎯⎯"

"Do you not feel the same way, considering how all of us died?"