The Next Death; Chapter 9

I drop to the mat, barely missing getting hit by Neal's staff. He spins it easily, preparing to bring it down on me. Now or never.

I throw up a hand. Neal's staff freezes midair. I can see him straining. I push harder. Neal's staff goes flying away, almost taking Neal with it.

Neal laughs, offering me a hand. "Not bad. See? You're getting better every day."

I take his hand, pushing off the mat as he pulls me up. "To be fair, I was half expecting to get a bloody nose or black eye."

"If you had gotten a black eye, it'd be gone by morning," Neal says over his shoulder, walking towards his staff.

"Really?"

"Yup. Reapers heal fast," he holds his hand out and his staff flies up into it.

"But wouldn't somebody take note of that?"

Neal shrugs, "I suppose that's part of the flow's work, making sure nobody notices."

"Precisely," Mr. Mors' voice says. I look to find him walking through the training room's door. "That will be all for today's training session, Neal. You can head back to the shop."

Neal nods, tossing his staff to the rack where it, of course, lands perfectly. I couldn't wait until my control was that smooth.

Mr. Mors walks further into the room. "Come have a seat, Miss Kissinger," He says as he passes me.

I go and set my staff in the rack before heading to the table. I had been wondering why there was a table in the training room. I guess it made sense. There was going to be more than just physical training.

Mr. Mors sits at the table waiting. I sit down in the chair across from him. As I do so, he slides a book across the table to me. Curious, I pick it up. It's a black leather journal. Undoing the leather string, I open it. On the cover page, an elegant script stares back at me. Si obvium habueris unde lux tenebris, servanda est statera.

I glance up at Mr. Mors. "What does it mean?"

"Read it," Mr. Mors says, inclining his head slightly.

"Where the light meets the dark, balance must be kept." I blink. Something told me that that's what the words meant. "How. . .?" I look up at Mr. Mors.

"Language barriers would be quite problematic in our line of work."

"Are you telling me that reapers can understand any language?" I look back down at the page.

"Some can. Your ability to understand and speak other languages will come with time and practice."

I brush my fingers across the words. "Latin. Pompeius trimalchio." I look up, slightly alarmed. Since when did I know how to say 'seems appropriate' in Latin?

"Control will also come with time. Don't worry."

I nod. "Right." I flip to the next page. "So, what does that saying mean?"

"It's the reaper motto, if you will. Before life and death were fully formed, only light and dark existed. Reapers came into being with the purpose of helping light and dark become and stay separate. We were re-purposed once life and death came about as light and dark were distinct entities at that point.

"Enough of that for now though. That's not what today's session is about. The history lesson is much later."

I quickly flip through the journal. Only a few pages have writing. The majority are empty. I look up. "Most of this is empty."

Mr. Mors nods. "To keep you from getting ahead of yourself. As the time for more comes, it will show you more. You can also make notes in it if you wish. If you have questions on something, you can write it down in the journal, or ask the journal, and it will answer you."

"Really?"

"Only if it deems you're ready for the answer."

"Oh."

"To the lesson. You'll find the in-depth reading in the journal; I'll just be summarizing."

I flip over to the first page.

"Reapers have essentially three classifications: Reapers, Hunters, and Keepers. Some would argue that Hunters are a subcategory of Reapers, but if we're going to be technical, Hunters and Keepers are both subcategories of Reapers.

"In terms of rank, the category is somewhat determinate of it. Obviously, I and, one day, you are at the top. We run everything. Everyone answers us at the end of the day. Most Keepers are most likely to outrank Reapers and Hunters, but Hunters, especially the ones higher on the ladder don't really answer to Keepers, they answer directly to me. Newer or less powerful Hunters will have Keepers over them. Most Reapers answer to higher-ranked Reapers and those higher ranked Reapers answer to Keepers, but mostly just to help keep order.

"What?" I feel so confused.

Mr. Mors thinks for a second. "Perhaps I should have started with their roles."

I nod. "Alright."

"Reapers. Their function is the most straightforward. Their job is to collect souls. For every town, there is one main reaper whose job is to keep an eye on the rest and act as a final catch-all for any souls that are missed. As for how many reapers are in a city, it depends on the city. Every hospital has a reaper, and from there, the city is divided as that city's Reaper sees fit and a reaper is assigned to each section."

Something clicks. "The reapers in the subdivisions answer to the city reaper who answers to a Keeper."

Mr. Mors nods. "Yes, essentially."

"Does that make Keepers secretaries keeping numbers?"

Mr. Mors laughs. "I feel that Neal would be slightly offended by that simplification."

"Wait, Neal's a Keeper?"

Mr. Mors nods. "Their jobs entail much more than 'secretaries keeping numbers.'"

"What else do they do?"

"Let's finish Reapers first." He pauses, waiting until I nod. "Reapers are also responsible for keeping general tabs on their area as well. If any souls don't get collected, they need to notify the Keepers."

"Why would there be souls that don't get collected?"

Mr. Mors shrugs, "The soul having unfinished business, attachments, Chaos, untimely deaths, or a sudden surge in deaths, to name a few."

"So, Keepers come in to collect the ones that don't get collected."

"No. They come and determine who is the best to call in to deal with the situation."

I think for a second. "Hunters."

Mr. Mors nods. "Precisely. Now, Keepers. They do 'keep numbers' in a way. They keep track of who's soul needs to be collected and whether or not that soul is collected. On top of that, they also train new Reapers."

"So Neal's here to train me."

"Yes, that is his main function here."

"What about Agatha? I take it she's not a Keeper or she would also be training me. Is she the Reaper of this area? Is she the city's Reaper?"

Mr. Mors shakes his head. "No. Agatha is a Hunter. Consider her the fail-safe against whatever your training attracts."

"I thought they dealt with the souls that aren't collected."

"That is part of their job. They also deal with demons."

"What now?"

"That's another lesson," Mr. Mors says with a wave of his hand. The pages in the book flip, stopping on one with the title Hunters. "Hunters do have ranks. Their rank is determined by how powerful they are. The more powerful they are, the higher their rank. Alphas are the most powerful, gammas are the least powerful. Agatha is an alpha Hunter. All Hunters can sense the flow and changes in it. Gammas, the weakest, can only sense a prominent shift. Betas, like alphas, can sense even the faintest shift. What differentiates an alpha from a beta is whether or not they can also manipulate the flow. They don't have as much control over their manipulation as we do, but they have enough of a control to use it."

"I can manipulate the flow?"

"One day, yes, but you're nowhere close to that yet. Anyways, once a Keeper has assessed the situation, they'll call in a Hunter with the rank necessary to handle it."

"How does a Keeper determine what rank is needed?" I ask.

"Again, that's another lesson." Mr. Mors stands. "Read the information in the book. Once you've finished, you can spend the rest of the day manning the shop."

Without another word, he leaves the training room.