*Your sisters?*

  I don’t like repeating myself.

  Ever didn’t say anything else for the rest of the trip. Minutes later, he slowed and landed in a horrific landscape: smoking rubble as far as the eye could see, broken humans littered like discarded toys and a crushing sense of despondence.

  A bomb shell fell right in front of Ever and he threw up his hands instinctively. In his human form, he would have been obliterated straight away, sent back down to the Underworld. But in his reaper form, he watched as the grey chunks exploded up before raining back down.

  Souls were everywhere, their wails a discordant harmony with the screams of those clinging onto the last fibers of life. They saw Ever and reached out to him as if he were their angel of salvation. There were so many of them, where did he start? He summoned the scythe and stood amongst the hell on earth.

  You won’t be using that today.

  *There are so many souls, Mentor. Of course I have to use the scythe!*

  Who did I say we were going to meet today?

  Ever paused for a moment. *Your sisters.*

  Just watch - and wait.

  Ever clutched the scythe and waited. Sure enough, he saw something that made him shudder. Three female creatures with crooked wings arching out of their back descended upon a hapless soul feet away. With bird-like talons for hands, they dug into the chest of the soul, extracting the essence flame of the soul, the soul's heart, if you like. One of the winged creatures held the flame of the soul cupped in both talons, bringing it closer to her face, licking her lips.

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  “It’s my turn!” The other snarled, swiping at it. Her voice was layered like Chaos', though not nearly with as many

  “No, I’ve had the least, give it to me!” The third screeched, latching onto the first’s wrists. Eventually, the second buried her face into the essence, devouring it.

  *These are your sisters?*

  In a manner of speaking, yes. They are the Keres and they will only appear to consume the essence of souls that have died in a terrible way. Wars are a banquet for them.

  *This is terrible, Mentor! How the souls must suffer!*

  This is their role. The souls still go down to the Underworld to be judged after the Keres have had their way with them.

  *Surely we can help a few of the souls here-*

  Ever, what do the readings tell you about the role you and I play?

  Ever calmed himself and recalled. *The role that Death plays is to help the souls who have experienced peaceful, inevitable death find the Underworld.*

  Precisely. The role of the Keres is to appear during war time and consume the souls who have met their demise prematurely.

  *I’m going to try and help one of these souls.*

  Ever fell to his knees at a soul lying with his hands on his chest. “Tell me, what is it that keeps you here?”

  The soul looked at him and pointed up as dark feathered beings descended upon him.

  “Who are you?” One of the Keres hissed. She saw the scythe and leaped back. “Brother? But you’re not…”

  Ever clutched the scythe in front of him, trying to not appear fearful. “I am his apprentice, Ever.”

  “Apprentice?” The second said. She was taller than the first. “Since when did he have an apprentice? And why does he send his apprentice here?”

  “To meet you.”

  “Hmm." She turned her head side on, eyeballing him. To the side, the third Keres stared hungrily at Ever. "Well met. If you’ll excuse us, it’s time to feed.” Seconds later, they ripped into the hapless soul’s chest fought over who should consume his flame too.

  Ever stood back watching them, dismissing the scythe dejectedly.

  There is no reaping today for you and the only lesson is this: the hardest thing in the world to do is escape your fate.