“He is a part of you. What was left behind.”
“My raven,” I whisper.
And everything slots into place.
Why he knew so much. Why he kept trying to protect me. Even that cocky attitude.
Pain.
That kidisPain.
“When your body changed, your soul fractured,” Death says. “You gained skin and bone—but left behind your instincts, your tether, your power. Your raven became its own being. It fled. It ran from the wraith. And did what it could to protect you.”
The realization hits like lightning.
“You’re saying I split from it? That’s why everything’s felt wrong? Why I’ve been glitching out and flickering like a dying lightbulb?”
“Yes. The bond between a Grim Reaper and their raven is essential. It grounds you. Without it, you’ve been unraveling.”
I’m spinning.
“He was running from her.”
“And leading her away from you.”
“Until I tried summoning her myself.”
“That’s when he came back.”
“And he wasn’t exactly thrilled,” Death adds. “You didn’t even recognize him.”
I want to laugh and cry at the same time. It’s one thing to know my raven has been out there, trying to save me. It’s another to realize I didn’t even see it—see him—for what he was. For what I was.
I try to breathe. Then remember I don’t have lungs here.
“Is he… okay?”
“Whether he is—or ever will be—is up to you.”
…Yeah, I don’t like the sound of that.
But the void changes. I feel it shift. Grow heavier. Like consequences are circling.
So I brace myself.
“Our deal stands,” Death says. “End the wraiths, or you and your mortal companions will face extinguishment.”
The words cut through everything like a blade.
And there it is again—that part of him that doesn’t need a cloak or a scythe. He is the scythe. The end. The edge of everything.
The silence after the last breath. The cold after the final heartbeat.
And I don’t have a choice.
So I nod.
Or maybe I am the nod—a flicker of obedience in the dark.
