Chapter 7 The Reapers Questioning

Author's note; I want to say I appreciate you all for reading this. Also let me know how you like the editing. I had one of my friends, "Lady Rayne" help edit this.

also here is a link to my discord https://discord.gg/JfnwPjN

I've commissioned a piece for the story and have it there.

trigger warning - PTSD and mentions/ results of sexual ****

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Opening his eyes he found himself before ****, she was leaning in on her scythe. "Before you ask, no you’re not dead, just a rather bad concussion it seems. If you wanted it, though, it could be the end." Samar looked at her "Why would I want it to end?" The hood cocked to one side "What are you feeling?…" she asked intrigued by him. He shook his head, "Loss, betrayal, pain. They hurt, they make the burning of acid feel like nothing compared to what I'm feeling now. However as the old ones say 'This too shall pass.' It hurts but I will survive." The reaper leaned in more, "Why?" the hood asked "Why continue if you feel such pain?, if happiness only leads you to more pain. Why?."

Reaching up he ran his hand along her hood, outlining her face. Even though looking up he could see only darkness, he could feel the empty skull. "You've never been in love, have you?"A bony hand gently moved his hand off her head "I am ****, I cannot afford such luxuries. I cannot be biased." To then Samar replied "I am sorry Dee, My people have a saying; it is better to love and have lost than to never have loved at all."

She was silent for a long time, eventually snapping back to reality. “Dee?” The reaper snorted at him somewhat taken aback. “Out of everything I said, that's what you take from it?.” She gave Samar a blank look, which considering her lack of a face was impressive, even the dead had some sort of expression it seemed. “Do you know how many bards, suave talkers and the greatest of lovers have come before me? Their silver tongues, promising me love, companionship, everything I could ever want, could ever wish for, if only I give them, what the dead ever want.”

“But calling you Dee, is new and unique.” The cowl nodded and Samar could only laugh and shake his head. They stayed there for what seemed like a decade, in the realm of the dead time flowed differently. Feeling it was time to go Samar ask’s “I hit my head, how will that affect my personality?” he asked a little unsure.

The hood nods "If your personality is affected it will be effective until the injury has been healed. Your spirit however is immutable, brain damage will not affect your personality if it is healed.” Samar nodded and willed himself to return.

The world was dark when he opened his eyes. It wasn’t just dark, it was empty. His head hurt, like his mind was on fire. He tried to think but it was like swimming through molasses. What are molasses? He thought to himself unsure of what to think of this.

He blinked again to clear his vision only for it to fade to black for a few seconds, darkness enveloped him until he fought with all his might to stay in the light. His vision suddenly became more clearer and then he saw them, A pair of demons stood staring down at him. Eyes literally burning, he scrambled back, he needed to flee, to get away from these fiends. “Stop” one commanded, he tried to focus on which one said that but his vision blurred again, all he could see were grey outlines in the darkness, and their eyes, their terrible eyes. “Heal yourself!” the voice commanded. He started to shake his head but that only hurt more “Heal?, How?” he muttered half to himself.

Above him was an evil cackle, then a feral growl. He tried to think, tried to figure away out of here, this terrible dream. A DREAM, yes, there was no way these things really existed. He reached out, groping for the escape rope. His hand caught nothing. He rolled his hand, as if to loop rope around his hand, still nothing. The cackle came again, followed this time by a heavy crack. Something heavy hit the ground followed by a moan of pain. “Sacara” that commanding voice now barely more than an animal growl. “You are the cause of this, All of this... I am close, very very close to ripping out your core.” there was **** in that voice, he needed to get away, maybe even bring this Sacara with him. The pair of demonic eyes leaned over him and he flinched back as the demon held out a red vial, almost like blood as it swirled around. “Drink!” demanding him.

He took the vial, and fought back a whimper. He struggled with the lid, with what little of his mind more focused on escape than opening. Strong hands closed on his and he could only tremble. While they were gentle he could feel their strength, that it would be nothing from them to snap his wrists. The lid was removed and he took a sip, to his surprise instead of the biter taste of iron, a sweet taste filed his mouth. As it went down his throat he felt his head begin to clear. On the second gulp he realized the flavor was cherry, as he licked his lips clean afterwards. His mind was clear, clear enough that he passed the vial back, no point wasting it. One hand went to his forehead and he cast a healing spell.

Once finished he looked up to Solveig, her burning eyes looked worried. “I’m back.” he said simply, with the return of his memories came the return of all of them. The look, questioning to see if his intentions had been true. He felt his heart breaking all over again, aching in silence as he took a moment to breath and think again. Standing up he looked at the prone form, “Saraca” he stated simply “Revert to your soft form, I’ll heal your wounds.” The winged figure looked up from craitling her head and croaked “Why?” Samar stared down at her, there were five claw marks that had punctured into her face and a crack that ran along her face, making her look like she was wearing a mask.

He ran his hand along the length of the crack. “It is your choice.” he felt her skin change from stone to as soft as skin. Lava like blood began welling up from the cracks and with a word the skin began to knit together. Once finished with the treatment Samar straightened himself “I am going to sleep” his eyes met Solveig’s and saw her questioning it, “Alone” her eyes fell. Rather than undoing his belt he found a decent spot, crossing his arms and legs he tried to fall asleep, ignoring the cold of the night.

Dreams of pain, loneliness and betrayal plagued him. Dreams of lovers and demons dancing, hand in hand. A Dream of one he was close to that he had forgotten. She wore a different face but as always, in the strangeness of dreams he knew her instantly. A clip of a small, almost insignificant memory, his sister telling him she was going to try out Realms with him.

As the cold morning brought him to wakefulness he understood. Samuel, or Samar, was never one to believe dreams to be visions. He believed they helped process things that the conscious mind could not. Last night he had a lot on his mind, he needed to find his sister and make sure she was ok. He also needed to settle things with Solveig. Standing up he stretched, looking over he saw Solveig squatting by a small cookfire and a rabbit cooking over it.

From the look of her, she was trying to watch him without looking like she was watching him. He moved over and squatted beside her, still trying to come up with the words to say. They both squated their awkwardly for maybe five minutes before she broke the silence “I don’t know how to handle this. I’ve lived for almost a hundred winters and never really knew anyone outside of our tribe. I hurt Sacara, my subordinate, my friend, I-” her breath caught and she fought down a sob “Hurt, you.” Pausing to then taking a steady breath.

“When Sac- when she said that your timing was too perfect, that you were too perfect for the situation, it made too much sense. I had too-” she choked off, not able to talk, swallowing to help her dry throat. “I know..” His own tears welling up. “I couldn’t refute how perfectly it all aligned. That's why I turned away. I couldn’t bear to see you look at me that way, that I couldn’t muster a defense to ease your doubts.” Quietly, barely more than a whisper “When she attacked you, something in me snapped. Even if you were the one attacking us, I would defend you.” he looked at her, he saw her fiery tears flowing freely as she turned her gaze to him. “When you woke up, you looked at me with such fear. You looked at me like I was a” her voice broke off.

Samar moved his hand, taking hers in his, he moved in and pressed his forehead against hers. Rolling his head up he looked into her eyes “Solveig, I love you.” Staring into his “Samar, I love you too.” As they held themselves against each other another voice called out "Don't hit me for interrupting but the rabbits done." always the diplomat, Samar’s stomach growled in agreement. The breakfast was a quiet one, as both Solveig and Samar were leaning against each other. Almost as if touching the other might make the pain of the past twenty four hours disappear. Sacara was quiet and even though the damage was done and healed, the mental scars still remained. As the group gathered their things they departed, it was silent as well as heavy. Eventually Samar broke it quietly to Solveig “You said she was your friend.” Solveig nodded “Would you try and make amends?” seeing her sharp look he added “for me?.”

“Why?” Samar thought for a moment. “You are my world, but I don’t want you to cut all ties to your old life.” he could see the thoughts warring through Solveigs mind. Having a good idea on how bad the meat head was, not that he was much better but he had a little distance. “Sacara, a moment if you would be so kind.” the winged Gargoyle looked back from leading the troop, Samar thought he could see a slight look of disgust before it disappeared. “What is it?” the blankness of her tone spoke volumes. “I want to clear the air, I don’t know how much further but this has been on my mind.” He now had both stone warriors' attention as he took a breath “Sacara, your instinct was correct, things were too perfect.”

From beside him came Solveigs warning “Samar.” however it wasn’t anger, she knew what he was leading too. Looking to Solveig “I am putting the same trust in her, like I put the same trust in you, knowing it has already caused this much pain.” Sacara looked from one to the other “What are you two hiding?.” looking rather intrigued and concerned at the same time.

“I am one of a thousand that were sacrificed to the gods of this world. My Patron doesn’t particularly care about what I get up to, however in her own words she said ‘in a place that you will thrive.” Samar explained. Then from his side “You never told me that last bit.” Samar shrugged “I only recalled it when I was dead for an hour.” a guttural growl from his side as Sacara hastily said “You weren’t breathing for only a minute.” Samar nodded to that, gently running his fingers through Solveig’s hair, calming her down.

Sacara had a surprised look “How… do you know how difficult it is to calm her down?” Samar shrugged and with a grin and joked “I guess I have the magic hands.” Solveig gave a lusty purr “He really does...” With the frosty mood broken Samar threw in. “Now can I ask you two to kiss and make up?” as the two pairs of fiery eyes bore into Samar. “Beloved” Solveigs tone was frosty, “I am about to smack you” Sacara came to Samar’s rescue by bursting into laughter.

As the group began moving again, this time the distance between them was much smaller; the pain was still there, the wounds still happened, however they were beginning to heal.