Memories of the Reaper

Chapter Twenty-Five

When Derek Grey awoke, he was lying on the forest floor at the edge of the creek. His feet were in the water, staged to look like he had been floating downstream and deposited here. He had no doubt that Kendra Lynx had put him there.

Derek looked out to see Reynold on the far bank walking toward him with his trishul in his hand; at his back, the sun was well over the crest of the hill. By his calculation, it was midday.

He had survived the night.

"Well, well," Reynold said with genuine surprise. "You are still alive. Not many people can take a beating quite like you can. Even I thought you would have been dead long before sunrise."

The fledgling tried to sit up, but his body screamed. He breathed raggedly as he lay there, his body burning with blood loss, infection, and dehydration. "Are you here to kill me?" It almost sounded like a plea.

Reynold walked over to him. "No. The horn sounded at dawn. You passed. Can you walk?"

"This is about all I can do," Derek explained, lifting his neck.

"Allow me to help," Reynold said, laying his hands on his body. Derek felt Reynold's wonderful healing powers at work until there were only tiny white scars left on his skin. He inspected the burn marks along his skin. "That's an impressive cauterizing job, although I don't know exactly how you managed to do it on your own." There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Derek didn't respond. Instead, he rolled his shoulders and stood up. "Thanks," he said. The fledgling paused. "How'd I do?"

"Better than I expected—I thought Bryce would have killed you, but you showed surprising strength."

Derek quieted for a moment, looking down at his scratched breast plate, his torn shirt, and burned cloak. He was in total disrepair. Marks of an all-too-real battle. "You really would have let me die, then?"

"Without question," Reynold said with confident resignation.

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The ceremony had been arranged in the arena.

On the platform where they usually dueled and fought one another, five reapers were amassed with their cloaks lowered in respect as the fledgling and the Lord of Life walked inside. Victor was grinning, Kai was smirking, Hazel gave him a wink, and Bryce nodded. Kendra herself only looked thoughtful. Reynold ushered the fledgling onto the platform with the others, before turning to look out at the other reapers. Excitement sparked through the air, and Derek vibrated with the thrum of the atmosphere.

"Derek Grey," Reynold intoned. "Last night, you were tested in combat, abilities, and survival tactics; you passed. For that, you are being promoted. No longer are you a fledgling but a middling. As a show of progress, we bestow upon you these gifts that will aid you in your future battles. Strip yourself of the fledgling garments and accept your new ones." Derek was handed a skin-tight shirt by Victor, which he graciously replaced his bloody one with. Next was the armor with the veins of blue essence—his true armor. Relishing the snug fit, Derek flexed, watching as its light flared. It was revitalizing. He felt the warm touch of a grey cloak as Kai handed it to him.

I'm Gandalf the Grey, Derek thought as he slid his arm through the sleeves. No, Derek the Grey. He couldn't help but smile. After last night, this restorative ceremony was a celebration of nectar and ambrosia, fit for the gods.

Hell, we are the gods, Derek thought to himself in a mixture of arrogance and pride.

Bryce looked Derek in the eye and smirked. "Not bad... You may grow into that armor after all."