Little Death.
Xavier
I found Elliot after following the glitter trail. The glitter trail, ridiculous. He was hanging from a cage in the Pits, suspended by his ankles, and pelting glitter bombs at Noah and Haiden like it was some unholy game of dodgeball. The room was chaos, pure, glitter-coated chaos, and I loved it. Damned souls were cheering from the sidelines like they were watching the Super Bowl. Haiden was roaring with laughter as he ducked behind an overturned table, while Noah was trying to conjure a shield out of shadows that glitter still managed to cling to. I waited until Haiden hurled a glowing pink cloud right back at the cage and Elliot squealed with delight. Then I teleported mid-air, snatched him from his perch, and we both disappeared in a shimmer of black and gold, landing with a soft thud on a quiet beach somewhere along the coast.
“Whoa,” Elliot breathed, stumbling a little in the sand as he stared out at the ocean. The sun was just dipping toward the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of molten orange and lavender. Waves rolled in with a calming rhythm, far removed from the chaos we’d left behind.
“Pretty cool, huh?” I asked, brushing sand off his shirt.
“Very cool,” he nodded, eyes wide. “Is this the real mortal realm?”
“Yup. But what we’re doing today? Even cooler.” I crouched in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s your first reap today. You ready?”
His entire body buzzed with excitement, his heels bouncing in the sand. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
I chuckled and gave his shoulder a squeeze. With a pulse of magic, a tiny reaper robe shimmered over his frame, black with soft silver trim and little skull buttons down the front. His own miniature scythe materialized next, light as a feather, the blade glowing faintly with potential.
“There,” I said. “Now you look the part.”
He twirled dramatically and puffed out his chest. “Do I look scary?”
I grinned. “Terrifying.”
He giggled and gripped his scythe like it was a lightsaber. “My mum’s going to freak out. She said I wasn’t allowed near sharp objects until I was ten.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “She gave full consent for this. Also, she wants a photo.”
He froze, blinking up at me.
“So,” I said, gesturing. “We’ll shift to the visible spectrum of the mortal realm. You smile. I click. Then we get back to work. Deal?”
“Deal!” he squealed.
With a flick of my fingers, the shadows around us peeled back just enough for a mortal lens to capture the scene. He stood proudly at the water’s edge, little blonde curls peeking from under his hood, his grin so wide I could count every one of his tiny teeth. Click. The image shimmered into a frame on my tablet. I’d send it to his mum later. She’d probably cry. Again.
“Alright,” I said, shifting the screen toward him. “Here’s today’s soul. Mila. She was four when she drowned in this cove a few years ago. Her spirit’s been stuck here, caught between fear and memory.”
Elliot’s joy dimmed a little, but he nodded seriously, standing straighter.
“She’s in the shallows right now,” I said. “Do you see her?”
He scanned the beach with those sharp little eyes, then pointed. “There, there, she is! Is she picking up seashells?”
“She is. It’s part of the loop she is caught in. It’s what she was doing when she passed.”
Elliot stepped forward carefully, his tiny scythe held gently at his side like he didn’t want to scare her. I followed at a distance, watching with quiet pride. He knelt beside her. Her spirit shimmered faintly in the surf, translucent, barely real. A little girl with dark curls and a pink dress, soaked through from ghost-water. She was humming to herself, unaware of our presence until Elliot reached out and tapped her shoulder.
She blinked up at him, frowning slightly. “Are you a pirate?”
He hesitated. “No… I’m kind of like… a helper.”
She blinked again. “A helper for what?”
“To help you not be scared anymore.”
She looked down at her dress. “I’m wet.”
“I know,” Elliot said gently. “But you don’t have to stay here. We’ve got warm towels where we’re going. And chocolate milk. Probably. I’ll ask Daddy Haiden.”
Her brows knit together in thought. “My mummy said I should stay where I am.”
“She didn’t know you were stuck,” Elliot said, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it. “But it’s okay now. I’m here. And Daddy Xavier’s here too, he’s the boss.”
She turned her head, squinting up at me. I gave her a small wave.
“I remember you,” she said suddenly. “You came in my dreams once.”
He smiled. “I did. I’ve been waiting until you were ready.”
She reached out then, sliding her hand into Elliot’s. Her form stabilized a bit more, less mist, more light. Elliot looked up at me, a silent question in his eyes. I gave a nod.
“Okay,” he whispered, turning back to her. “Close your eyes, Mila. It’s time.”
She did. He raised his scythe, and the blade shimmered bright gold as it passed through the air. No pain. No fear. Just peace.
Her soul vanished before him.
“I did it!” Elliot said, and I placed a hand on his back. With a thought, I portaled us both back to the waiting room. The atmosphere shimmered as we stepped inside. Haiden, still glitter-streaked, blinked at us from the desk where he was now filling out new soul records. “And how was it, young deathling?”
“Amazing!” Elliot said, beaming as he released the orb of Mila into the waiting light. “She wasn’t even scared.”
“Of course not,” Haiden said, already pulling out a tiny blanket and plushie from a basket. “They never are when someone kind shows up.”
Mila reformed gently in the reception room’s nursery corner, where several young souls now played with blocks and crayons. She spotted the plushie, giggled, and toddled toward it.
Elliot watched, blinking fast. “Can I do another one?”
“Tomorrow,” I said, ruffling his hair. “One soul at a time.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “But I want glitter bombs next time, too.”
“Absolutely not,” Haiden and I said in unison.
Elliot just smirked, then vanished in a puff of confetti and laughter.
I looked to Haiden, who wiped some glitter off his arm.
“You’re enjoying this too much,” I said.
“I love chaos,” he replied proudly. “Especially the sparkly kind.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the portal. One soul reaped. One kid guided home. A future reaper trained with kindness. We were doing more than just ferrying the dead. We were building something better.
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