The Return: Volume II

Chapter II: Everything

Deacon and Lamb agreed they couldn't be seen together, and every second they were together was more of a risk than the last. They didn't bother elaborating on the murder scene they'd dragged me into quite yet, though there seemed to be an unspoken understanding between the two about it. Deacon disappeared, and took with him what little comfort I had while being stranded in a hostile country. It's not that I didn't trust Lamb, but he was too unreal and guarded to be of much comfort.

"I apologize if this is too forward, but aren't you married to the prince? Shouldn't you have some kind of guard?" I asked.

He turned away from me, instructing me to follow. Thankfully, he didn't go leaping over buildings like Deacon, and opted for a calm walk through the death fog. Maybe he caught me unable to take my eye off the corpse at the center of town, or maybe it was that desire to divulge that Deacon mentioned. Whatever it be, for once I didn't have to ask for an explanation.

"That being up there is a reaper. I suppose you might not even know what that is... They aren't supposed to show themselves on our plane of existence. They are harbingers of death, and death is their entire being. To even touch one is instant death."

"That's why no one's moved the body." I thought out loud.

"That's why no one's helped them." He corrected me, "They're still alive. Reapers can't die."

Lamb paused our conversation as we'd reached our destination. Just a few streets over, on the edge of the abandonment and death fog, a stage coach manned by several guards awaited us. One was particularly imposing. He certainly wasn't like the others; olive skin and gold tattoos visible in a sleeveless outfit that clearly wasn't standard issue.

"Jarin, this is my new personal guard. Chris, this is Jarin, the Queen's personal guard. Why he is here with you and I instead of her, your guess is as good as mine."

Jarin said nothing. He simply opened the door, giving us both cold glares as we entered the carriage. He'd follow, closing the door behind himself and making the interior rather claustrophobic with his hulking size. Surprisingly, Lamb didn't hesitate to continue the conversation. He and Jarin clearly had some reservations for one other, yet would share their thoughts if it concerned both their peoples' wellbeing.

"We have no way of contacting other reapers. They exist outside of our reality. Someone will come for them, eventually. Until then, we'll need to focus on helping the people displaced by this."

"You give no worry to the why or the who?" Jarin condescended him.

"Of course it's a worry, but it's not a priority. This was a statement, and that statement clearly was for us, not the pedestrians. We don't put our needs in front of theirs. At least, the unparanoid of us don't." Lamb side eyed Jarin.

These two would stay at each other's throats. It wouldn't take long for me to understand that Jarin tagged along with Lamb that day because he didn't trust him. Trust wasn't exactly either of their strong suits.

The journey to the palace was terribly long and awkward. I'd learn we were at one of the most southern points of the country, and the capitol was as north as you could go before the mountains became too steep to build upon. If it had just been Lamb and I, I'm sure he would've filled the time explaining all kinds of things to me. Or perhaps not. The scene we'd left wasn't sitting well with him. I remember him watching out the window in thought, and looking like something Michelangelo had carved while he was frozen in place. His thumb hooked under his chin, knuckles rested against his nose and his elbow propped up on the carriage door. If he even blinked, I somehow missed it.

I noticed the wedding ring on his other hand. It a simple, thin v-shaped band with a few minuscule pearls. Rather understated for royalty. I'm sure, even in his trance-like state, he noticed me staring. He didn't say anything, but Jarin had to make a comment. "You know, I always was curious. Why did ask for a different ring?"