The benefit of being an apprentice to Death was that Ever could exist in either human or reaper form at will. As a reaper, he was closer to the souls and ghosts that roamed Earth in form and function.
This form dulled the human senses almost to zero. It was almost like being completely swathed in dense blankets. Try your hardest and you might feel something, but it almost wasn’t worth the effort.
Every night since he had arrived, he had rested in this treehouse in reaper form, hovering inches off the floor. Being a human hurt; everything was so much. He hadn’t realised as a soul in the Underworld how comfortable everything was.
Right now he was slouched on the floor, one leg straight the other bent, propping up an arm.
It’s nice when they’re that straightforward, Death commented.
“Straightforward?” Ever said aloud. He wasn’t afraid of being heard, only ghosts might have been within earshot and he didn’t mind if they listened.
Yeah, her Georgie Porgie literally came to her. All you had to do was follow her and let the scythe do the rest of the work.
“You said she was an old soul. Wouldn’t you have reaped all of the old souls?”
Hey, there’s only one of me and billions of them. It’s not like they’re in any hurry, especially if they’re like Agatha.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Ever was silent for a moment. His human eyes had adjusted to the little light in the cemetery. Most of it was actually coming from the moonlight, streaming through the window. He stood up, running his fingers over the message George had left for Agatha on the wall of the treehouse. The grain of the wood was smooth, the scratchings rough but real.
“I didn’t think it was straightforward at all.”
Oh?
Ever traced the heart with his index, putting his thoughts in order. “Agatha was so excited that George had come. Year after year he had come to visit her at her grave. As much as she wanted to see him, she wished that he wouldn’t.” He waited for a comment from his mentor but when none came, he continued.
“George wanted Agatha to come back to him, which she was doing every time he visited. Of course he wouldn’t have known this, but they were together, he in human form and she as a ghost. George looked old. He might have died soon, then they could have been reunited and spent the rest of eternity together. She had waited a long time, why not wait a little longer?”
Humans are tragic. They can spend most of their lives doing the same thing and right before the happily ever after they do something different.
“Yes Mentor, but why?”
I can’t answer that question. Maybe you can ask the Fates?
“You think they were fated to not cross paths ever again?”
All I know is that you did the right thing and asked the right questions, otherwise the scythe wouldn’t have let you reap her. Anyway, that’s enough learnings for one day.
Death withdrew from his protege’s mind, leaving him only his unanswered questions for company. I wonder what it’s like to sleep as a human? Ever thought, adding yet another question to the mix - except this one he was able to answer in a few minutes.

