Rachel Yan (11) | STAFF REPORTER
Every few years in Elias’s village, a young adult between the ages of 20 and 25 would disappear in the middle of the night. The disappearances were normal, and no one was surprised.
Now, the biting northern wind seemed to slice through him as Elias trekked across the icy snow. Pulling his cloak tighter, he peered through the gloom for any sign of an opening in the face of the rock wall.
He still wasn’t sure why he was out here, searching through the wilderness. Everyone else in the village accepted the disappearances as inevitable; the underworld would claim as their own whoever they wanted, no matter what they did about it. There was only a brief period of mourning, mingled with a bittersweet celebration that their family member had been chosen for this honour.
Elias supposed it could only be because he had not been raised in the village that he was here. Other than traders, few travellers came to the village. Not only was the village located in an isolated fjord far in the northern wilderness, but was rumoured in the nearest towns to have been the site of some huge supernatural event centuries ago, marked with death. Elias had been the first outsider to start living there in years.
In the beginning, he had been perturbed when told about the disappearances. But seeing everyone else acting so nonchalant about them, he had gone along with it. That was until the day came when Jonathan had been the one taken.
What followed was a long series of consultations with different shamans. Elias travelled from town to town to search for them, but none had the information that he wanted. Coming from the village, Elias himself had more knowledge of death magic than any of them.
Everyone in town knew the village supplied the underworld’s reapers. It was a tradition going back centuries. They came in the night – the ones chosen in past years, returning to the place they used to live – to choose a successor to take back with them.
The last shaman he had visited had been the only one able to provide directions. According to him, Elias should reach his destination in two hours walking alongside the base of the mountain. He had set off in the afternoon, and now the sky was rapidly dimming.
It was another half hour before he came upon a cave in the rock.
Elias stared at it. He hadn’t really believed he would find the entrance. The hollow seemed to beckon to him, and he recalled the story of Orpheus. But what if the person he was searching for was not one of the dead but their captor?
As he took a step towards it, the sound of howling wind suddenly emanated from the cave. Elias backed away as the wind grew stronger, seeming to push him back. He scrambled behind the line of trees opposite the cave.
A robed figure emerged from the opening, moving towards where he stood.
“I’m looking for Jonathan,” Elias yelled. “I know he’s one of you.”
The curved tip of a scythe glinted in the moonlight.
“He knows who I am!” he shouted.
The rushing wind grew louder. Elias turned to see shadows swirling between the trees. When he looked back, he couldn’t see the figure.
“Where are you?” he cried out. “Show yourself!” Blotches of black seemed to smear across the sky. Elias recoiled, slipping on the ice. The last thing he felt was the cold snow against his face as he fell to the ground.
Elias woke to the sight of a cloudless night sky above him. He sat up and found himself on the sandy bank of a small lake.
The water was a pale glowing cerulean. There was no bottom to the lake; it opened endlessly into the deep, like an inverse of the sky. It was filled with white dots of light, infinitely far away, as though the reflection of the stars in the night sky had burnt tiny silver pinpricks into the blue firmament.
He realised the cloaked figure was standing to his right, looking out at the lake. Elias flinched back, and the figure turned to him. The face under the hood came into view.
“Jonathan,” he said quietly.
“Elias.” His friend gestured around them. “Why did you come here?”
“I was looking for you.”
“I can see that. But you know no one is supposed to search for the reapers after they are taken. Don’t you have some sense of reverence for the rites of death?”
Elias dragged his hand through the sand. “I wanted to see you again.”
Jonathan sighed. “I was just joking. It’s nice to see you too.”
“What is this place?” Elias asked.
“The lake of souls.”
“Those are souls?” He crawled forward to look down into the water. “They look more like stars to me.”
“They are stars. That’s the sky you’re looking at.”
“What?”
“The underworld is on the other side of this lake. You’re looking into the sky of the underworld right now.” Jonathan swung the tip of his scythe through the water. “It’s called the lake of souls because this is where we bring the souls to cross over.”
Elias stared. “Nice scythe.”
“It’s nothing special.” Jonathan held it out to him. “Every reaper has one.”
He examined the gleaming black metal of the scythe. “Is Elizabeth here?” Elias asked, referring to the girl who had been taken before Jonathan.
“No, she’s already chosen her successor and moved on.”
He nodded. “Have you been back to choose anyone yet?”
Jonathan paused. “I was going to choose you.”
He couldn’t help laughing. The whole year spent looking for Jonathan, and he would have come to him if he’d stayed put.
“How’s the village doing?” Jonathan asked. “How are my parents holding up? Is Benjamin still—?”
“I wouldn’t know. I left a year ago.”
Jonathan sat down on the bank beside him. “And you’ve been searching for this place the whole time?”
“Yes.”
They gazed at the lake together.
“Well,” Elias said abruptly, “how does this successor thing work? Am I your apprentice now, or do I have to figure things out on my own? Are you going to leave?”
Jonathan looked surprised. “What?”
“You took me out here, didn’t you? I’m your successor now.”
He laughed. “No, I didn’t take your soul. You’re fine. You can return.”
“Oh.” Elias was taken aback. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m going to take you back through the passage to the mountain. Let’s go.”
Elias stood up. “Wait.”
“We should hurry,” Jonathan told him. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know. If the other reapers see you, they might force you to stay.”
“What if I want to stay?” Elias asked slowly. “How difficult is reaping souls?”
There was a pause. “You’re being serious?”
“Yes. I… may have sold everything I owned back in the village.”
“Are you sure?”
Elias nodded. “When can I get a scythe?”
Jonathan sighed. “Well, I’d still think more about it before deciding. I’ll give you some time to consider.”
They sat back down in front of the lake.
Jonathan set his scythe down beside him. “It’s a nice view, isn’t it?”
