The Good Die Young, Chapter Two

Diane stared at the dark courtroom like cavern she was in. It was dark in here, so dark she could barely see her own hand. Orangeish red light flowed from behind a giant podium, that stretched in a large semi-circle around her. Silhouettes of humanoid figures surrounded her, the light casting them in fearsome shapes. "You have abused your power, youngling." A great voice boomed. The room seemed to be shaped that the sound would come from everywhere at once, making it impossible to know which of the dozen or so figures actually spoke.

"Young Reapers are expected to be impartial, to follow their instructions." Another voice sounded. This one, while still thunderous, sounded female. She sounded more amused than the first one, who had sounded just angry. Diane spent the time counting the number of figures. She knew what she was guilty of, and they were just being dramatic with all the extra talking. Then again, in a council such as this, it must be rather boring, so theatrics may be the only entertainment there was. Diane didn't know…

Fifteen figures. The Great Reaper, or the Grim Reaper, as humans liked to call him, was obviously the one directly in front of her, and seemed in charge of the council. The large scythe gave him away. She knew he hadn't talked yet. She would recognize his voice, it was more or less unforgettable. After all, he was the one responsible for allowing her to be a reaper.

The figures kept rambling on, finally reaching a point that sounded important enough that Diane began paying real attention again. "You are charged with interfering with Fate's design. This is a grievous offense. Do you offer some defense?" The original booming voice said. Diane had gone over this part in her head. It would be of little use to lie, but it would be of less use to admit to it. Courts like this had little use for someone "pleading guilty."

"Surely you recognize the man deserved what I gave him? He was a drunken sot, and perhaps this will sober him up a bit. Makes the world a better place, as I see it." Diane said. It sounded good, if she had actually meant it. She only said it to try and convince them to not punish her. This particular court was rather famous for cruel and unusual punishments, and Diane would not like to be on the receiving end of one of those…

"There are multiple things wrong with that statement." A new voice began. This one sounded old, scholarly, and annoying as fuck. "Firstly, it is not your place to decide what makes the world a better place. You are a Reaper in Training, not a Fate." He said, and Diane could swear she saw a figure on the left writing something down, but with the poor lighting, it was incredibly hard to tell.

"Secondly, that was not your purpose. Surely it would have been a noble purpose, but your purpose was near the opposite of noble. You did it to cause the man pain. You are a Reaper, as I mentioned, not a Fate, not a Tormentor, a Reaper. You are a messenger sent to deliver messages, and to make sure those messages only are received by those who are intended to receive them. " Diane was right about one thing. This old man was annoying as fuck…

The council began arguing amongst itself again, and Diane rapidly lost interest. They were probably deciding her punishment, and if she was right, even if she tried to understand them, she would fail. She wasn't supposed to listen now, and therefore, she would be unable to. So she waited patiently. She was fairly good at patience.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, later, Diane began understanding words again. The time had blurred into an incomprehensible mass, leaving her unable to know how long had passed as they convened. "The Council has decided upon a punishment." A voice sounded, and this time Diane recognized it. Death himself was talking, the Grand Reaper. The voice of the council, apparently. "Sadly, as we are notoriously low on Reapers, and unable to recruit more for a long while, we cannot completely eject you from the order. However, you will be on part time suspension." He concluded, his voice sure of itself.

"What do you mean, part time? What will I do the other part?" Diane asked, confused. Being a Reaper was generally a full time job, she had never heard of a part time Reaper. It didn't make sense. One could not just switch back and forth, it was a decision that bound the Reaper for the rest of their likely eternal life.

"For a suitable period, you will only have access to your Reaper abilities from sundown to sunrise. For the remainder of the day, you will have a human form, one that will be expected to behave, act,  and fit into society. For your apparent age, that means some form of schooling. At a time when it becomes clear you have learned your lesson, the Council will reconvene, and possibly change the decision. Until such a point, I would practice my social skills…" Death laughed a bit.

And with that, the chamber faded from view, leaving her in the house she had taken residence in for the time being. With a quick glance outside, she noticed the sun was rising. It hadn't begun yet, but Diane felt the power she gained as a Reaper slowly drain away as the sun's rays hit her. "Damn it all…" She said, watching the silver sword fade to an inky smoke, before vanishing completely. In its place, a backpack and a pile of books.

"Really? School again? Fucktastic." Diane sighed. She knew where she would have to go, and if she knew the council right, she would be already enrolled there, with classes and everything. And if she knew the council, she was going to hate every. Single. Moment.