(The very same note again, I think.This is my first NaNo novel, which isn't finished and generally has turned up to be nothing I wanted it to be.. But anyway. I'd like some feedback from you. Do keep in mind that English is not my first language, though. I'm starting this part with a few last sentences from the last part, as it's a continuation of Lord Soul's POV)
Though he could have left for any of the tens of reasons why he would like to be alone, Lord Soul indeed had business to attend – rather boring business, though, in his opinion.
Every now and then, it was a custom for reapers to take in apprentices – little boys and girls who for some reason came to the Underworld with a desire to become reapers or reaperesses – and to either teach them how to become one or to prove them there's no point for them even to keep trying. Nicholas Soul, to tell the truth, never before had an apprentice of his own, though he sometimes did take the duty of training Agatha's and other Reapers'. After those sessions, without an exception, young apprentice would fold and decide rather to find a job as something else, now he or she is stuck in the Underworld anyway.
But this time it was a personal favor, one that Lord Soul couldn't turn down, so it had to be done. And after all, even if that new apprentice does prove to be something more on the first sight, he or she will fail sooner or later. Task he put in front of their apprentices were always harder than they really had to be – Lord Soul was very aware of that, and in the back of his mind he couldn't help wondering whether his own son would fold out too, if he was the one to be the apprentice.
With a deep sigh, he pushed the door of the salon, stopping to realize the little apprentice was already waiting for him.
Little indeed is a good word, he thought to himself, letting the door close behind him and slowly entering the room. Even more to his surprise, as normally children would rather be appointed to the master of their own gender, he was now facing a girl of maybe six, with long, straight raven hair and big dark eyes, and she didn't even look a bit scared by him.
"Hello", he said carefully, frowning at her. She blinked at him, as if she was surprised by something.
"Hello, Sir", she replied then, in her silent and high little voice.
"So then, you are that apprentice? Or the one wishing to be, better said?" She nodded. "They said your name was Cleo."
"Nice to meet you, Lord Soul, Sir."
"Are you not a bit little for a reaperess?"
"That's why I'm still just an apprentice. But they say I could be good."
"We'll see about that. You already have your scythe?", he asked, and she nodded again.
"My grandparents were reapers too. They broke the rules by coming to me and telling me about ih, but... here I am now."
"Here you are now", he muttered. "So if you desire to be my apprentice – it's a big word for a kid like you, and so a big responsibility – you need to know a few ground rules. Every reaper should know them, that is. I will not even consider you as my apprentice if you can't recite them for me right now."
"You have any desired order in mind?"
"The way you like them, my little Cleo", he answered, slightly surprised by her reaction.
What's up with this one?
"A reaper must always carry his scythe when leaving the Underworld", she said, looking up to meet his eyes, but he deliberately kept staring out through the window. That one was obvious – it was enough to talk to one reaper for a few seconds to find out that. He raised his eyebrows.
"Anything else?"
"He or she can never wield a weapon of other", she said, not changing her silent tone. Is it me or kids of her age aren't normally supposed to talk like that? "And a reaper shall never kill, but harvest the souls of those already destined to die... Lord Soul?"
He turned to her this time, frowning again. That last one not everyone knew – it wasn't as logical as the first one, nor anyone warned of it as much as of the second. Maybe she indeed did have some potential.
"Yes?"
"What happens to a reaper who does kill a person?"
Thinking of what and how to answer her, lord Soul focused on a group of children playing across the street from The Death Palace.
"You see, Cleo... besides us, there are many others who seek to take the souls of the dead. Runaway demons and creatures that for some reason can't kill people themselves so they wait for destiny to do its job, even people who read stories of immortality and have taken the path of being neither death nor alive, neither humans nor... something else. And if a reaper breaks his rules and takes a life of a human who's not yet to die, he looses his right ever to return to the Underworld. His scythe breaks, and he looses his immortality – he becomes something that must hide in shadows and grows desperate enough to steal souls from literally anyone, from humans to other reapers, demons, magicians and devils, nothing makes a difference, just to stay alive. Fears eventually grow too big and our former reaper meets his end – and his soul turns into nothingness", he finished theatrically. To tell the truth, he wasn't quite sure if nothingness was even a proper word, but he figured the girl will focus on other parts of his short story.
"But then, why anyone does that?", she asked, furring her thin eyebrows.
"Sometimes they see no other choice." He shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes they are led by promises of devils or some other dark creatures they for some reason came to trust. Sometimes they see something and decide to be the judges of mankind. Minds are strange creatures, little Cleo, and so are hearts."
"Should I be writing it down?"
"You should remember it."
"Good", she smiled. "I don't think I know how to spell everything you just said."
I bet she thinks of nothingness too.
"Fine, then. Three rules, for now it will be quite enough. You will be escorted to your room here in The Palace, as I am not into running around the town when I need you. You will be provided with books – you can read, right?"
"Not so very well", she said, shrugging her shoulders and silently apologizing.
"And a tutor to read them and teach you, then. I will contact your parents to-"
"You can't do that", she interrupted, looking scared for the first time.
"What? Why couldn't I?"
"Oh, because you'd be breaking rules, Sir. My Mommy and Daddy are still up there." She pointed her finger, the same way many reapers tend to do when refering to the Surface. "They are alive, you see. I'm alone here."
Being a father, it took Lord Soul a couple of seconds to process that information, putting himself in her shoes and at the same time trying to imagine being a parent who loses his child. But they don't remember her, followed the somewhat reassuring thought, they know nothing of their child, now that she came to the Underworld and chose to become a reaper. Our very own curse – to be forgotten, but never to forget.
He wondered what he should tell her now. That he's sorry? For what, them being alive? That somehow didn't feel right.
"You did well today, little Cleo", he said finally. "Tomorrow after you have your breakfast, we shall discuss the rules and expectations a little further. You are free to explore the town and the unlocked parts of The Palace itself – when with me, and only with me, you may when the time comes come up to the Surface. Not to harvest, not yet, but one can learn much from just watching. Do not attempt to go on your own, understood?"
"Yes, Sir. Why not?"
"Because I said so", he hissed automatically, realizing a moment later that's probably not going to stop her. "Because it can be very dangerous. No reaper without proven qualifications ever goes alone up there, children especially. One demon bigger than you enough to take the scythe out of your reach – and with you being as tiny as you are, that would be a piece of cake – and you're history."
"Yes, Lord Soul. I will never go alone anywhere but inside this city's borders. Sir? Should my scythe have a name?"
The thought brought a thin smile to his lips, as he remembered himself thinking of his own as Daisy – in memory of a little sister who now believes to be the only child to her parents.
"You can if you want to. Some reapers do that, some do not, and your attention and care is what matters and makes you two be as close as you can be. You should think of her as of a person, more or less. You understand that, don't you?"
"I believe so, Sir", she nodded. That was one of the few reasons he liked having children as apprentices – they trusted what he's say and would have no problem with imagining feelings of their weapons. "Um... and, if I may ask, Sir... before you said it was quite enough to know those three rules... how many are there?"
"Rules? For every reaper it's a different number. You make your own rules, out of your own experiences. Personally I have eleven of them, and they all have branches for some supporting, not so important ones. But I have known reapers who had over a hundred of rules – it depends on what kind of person you are."
*
And let me know when you do again, thanks!
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