Life After Death

Corryn: long time no see

{Corryn}

Bartending in Hell wasn't nearly as horrible as I thought it would be. There's plenty of alcohol, plenty of money, and an increasing assortment of interesting customers. So, realizing I had been summoned away from my nice quiet bar to stand in a large bedroom facing a small boy without a pentagram was a rather rude shock. I was dead; I had to remind myself, even as I looked through my hands. But who had summoned me?

"I was expecting someone older," the boy said, wrinkling his nose at me. "Are those freckles?"

"What of them?" I challenged, self-conscious of my appearance for the first time in a while.

"You have them," the boy pointed out.

"Did you summon me?" I asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

"It's my magic," he told me. "My name is Gawain."

"That's neat," I replied, and then attempted to sit on the floor. But I was a ghost now, without joints or muscles. It took me a moment to figure out how. Gawain laughed as I floated to the ground, finally sitting.

"So what did you summon me for?" I asked, trying to be polite. The boy was millennia younger than I, but I wasn't sure how adept he was at his magic. If he was a necromancer, he could easily have summoned a host of demons and had them waiting in his closet.

"I have to write on a recent historical figure," he said. "You're recent, and Ryon knew your full name, so I decided to write about you."

"I'm flattered," I said. "Did you say 'Ryon'?"

"He's our cook," Gawain said. "But he made me promise that I wouldn't let you go down to the kitchen to bother him."

"I wouldn't bother him," I muttered.

"Corryn, you have to stay in my room," the boy said. So much power came such a small faery. I supposed I shouldn't judge. "Now wait for me to get my notebook, and then I'll write my essay."

"Can you just send me back?" I asked. "I have things I'd like to wrap up if I'm going to be here a while."

Gawain's brown eyes narrowed at me. "Fine," he said. "You are dismissed."

I reappeared behind the bar with a glass and a towel in my hand. Roger looked at me quizzically.

"He's going to summon me again, any minute," I said, skipping the details. "So I don't mind if people stay here to finish, but after that, could you close up shop?"

Roger nodded.

"Last call!" I shouted. Many regulars grumbled, but I quickly took orders and then vanished, just after setting down the last glass. I would have a mess to clean up when I got back for certain, but I could do very little about it.

"Hello again," Gawain said. He was sitting on his bed and I was standing at the foot of it, as if I was in trouble. A blue notebook was sitting on his knees.

"Hello," I said glumly. I had not planned to be bossed around by a child today.

"Why were you trying to overthrow the government?" he asked.

"Can I sit down?" I asked. "Before my interrogation?" He nodded towards the chair at his desk, and I sat down, wondering what was keeping me from going through the chair. It was most likely just the memory of sitting in a normal chair.

"I was bored," I said, in regards to the answer of his question. "Living forever gets bland after a while. I did it carefully," I added.

Gawain frowned, scribbling down what I had said. I waited quietly for him to finish and then he looked up.