by Paul Simpson
Chapter 7
Resurrection, protect stones
The dead Reaper’s robes lay at Ffion's feet, its body had since turned to ash and crumbled as George walked over and gave the heap a nudge with his paw. “I knew you could hurt them, but I didn’t know you could reap the Reaper!” he said.
George tapped the ash again with his paw to make sure there was noting left but cloth and a scythe. From the base of the hill shone five more shafts of light upon the ground, which grew from the forming shapes of more Reapers, each turning their skull features' glare toward the stones and then to Ffion. George began to cower behind Ffion’s legs.
“I thought there was only one reaper," he said. "Who are they?”
Ffion wondered as well. “Maybe we got it all wrong. It must take a team of them to collect all the souls in the world, either way that last one was tricky. I’m not sure I can handle five of them in a straight fight.” The brave duo looked at each other, wondering what the next move would be.
“Run Ffion, it’s me they want. Let them take me so all this can end,” said Jodie from her stone cage. Ffion shrugged off the comment, muttering “never” under her breath as she dug her feet into the ground and drew on her power, her hands aglow with energy as she readied herself for a fight.
It was the next thing to happen that threw her and George. Even the Reapers watched at the events taking place before them. The small ghost orb that had been following George all this time suddenly made an appearance, whizzing around at a fast speed being chased by seven Imps creatures Ffion had come across once before with their goat-like eyes in their elongated heads, hoofed feet and long arms with claws upon their fingers. But this time the Imps seemed bigger, stronger. The orb raced toward Ffion and hid under the fallen Reaper's robe.
The Imps drew nearer in search of the soul, only to find the Reapers ready for battle. They seemed to snarl and hiss at each other as they paused for just one second and then charged forward to fight.
George looked up to Ffion “What’s going on," he asked. "I thought they wanted your mother's soul?”
Ffion was just as confused and shook her head “I, I just don’t know,” came the reply. The power drained out of her as she watched on.
The Reapers drew their scythes and moved to attack the Imps. The Imps charged forward on all four limbs like a pack of wild dogs, snarling with teeth gnashing in a frenzy only aggravated more so by the presence of the Reapers. The two forces locked into battle as blades cut and teeth and claw lashed out. The Reapers were easily stronger but should the Imps attack in force, Ffion wondered if even the Reapers would be able to hold out.
The fight was over as a lone Imp ran away, hurt, into safety and cover. Four of the five Reapers were still standing, and once again tuned their attention to Ffion, who was standing in the way of their prize.
Once more, Ffion powered up and sent out the first volley of shots at the charging Reapers. Jumping over the attacking group, Ffion landed by the fallen Reaper the Imps had killed. Picking up its scythe she fed her energy into it, powering it up before charging again at the group. Blades swung, slicing the air the Reapers surrounded Ffion. She jumped, ducked, and blocked, waiting for her opportunity to strike out, using the cat-like agility she posessed to counter each attack, with sparks of energy spraying as each blow was blocked.
George could only look on in support. His friend although outnumbered, was holding her own, but for how long? “HEY FFION, you're doing great by the way, if I could help, you know I would….right?"
“GEORGE……Just….a little… busy….at the moment!” Ffion stammered as she blocked each powerful blow. George’s attention was slowly turning to the robe where the orb had hidden.
The robe began to smoke and lift as if it were a balloon, rising up from the floor, filling with the shape of a person within. Two strong, human, muscular arms reached out of the sleeveless garment and the hood raised as the shape of a head formed within it.
“Ffion, we got company!” cried George, as he began to cower back a little, the fur rising down his back. “FFIONNNNNN!” he cried again.
“George, I need to concentrate….just a little,” came her reply. She struck out with the scythe and took out the first of the attacking Reapers.
The newly-formed figure stared down at George, its face hidden in the dark of the hood but its eyes although human in form, seemed to shimmer and glow.
“FFION, its looking at me, what should I do cause I feel like I got a fur ball coming?” George’s head inched its way back into his neck.
At the mention of Ffion’s name the new Reaper stared at George then stood upright looking over at the nearby fight. Reaching down, it grabbed the scythe at its feet. With a bright flash the wooden staff and silver blade changed its form, shrinking and twisting into that of an axe handle. At the base of the handle a silver studded pommel formed, then a leather-wrapped handle, and at the top, a silver metal head in the shape of the handle.
The Reaper looked at its weapon and seemed to approve of its new form, giving it a few swings. With each movement of the handle an ethereal blade appeared at its user's will, ready to strike. It now focused its attention on Ffion and began to charge toward her.
Ffion was still fending off the constant attacks when she spied her second chance and fired out a blast of magic, hitting a Reaper and destroying it. Its scythe spun on its tip from the power of the blow before falling to the ground.
“Score two to me,” she said out loud, losing her focus for just a second. One of the remaining Reapers swung and caught her with its scythe, ripping her top and throwing her off balance to the grass. “I just had this and now it’s ruined,” she said, examining her injury.
“At least you can't blame me for plucking it this time,” shouted George. Ffion turned and stared back at him only to be greeted by the charging figure of the new Reaper. Her expression dropped, she was unprepared for the new opponent. She scrambled to her feet as all three Reapers closed in on her.
George began to panic as Ffion was in a bad position to retaliate. With a swirl of energy, Ffion transformed into a cat to try and reduce the size of their target and give her a chance to slip pass their blows, but before she could move a voice from the new Reaper boomed out, “GET DOWN!”
Ffion hit the floor as the figure jumped over her and swung the axe hard. A swathe of energy from the handle’s silver head cut through the first Reaper in a single stroke. Spinning the blade from side to side in a singular fluid movement, the new Reaper beckoned the other to attack. Choosing to flee, it moved backward slowly, gaining speed as it retreated.
The new Reaper held the axe handle on its side and grabbed at the wood as if holding a bow. From its fingers a ghostly arrow formed, along with the string. It took aim and fired. The arrow flew through the air, finding its mark in the shoulder of the retreating Reaper, knocking it to the ground. The Reaper scrabbled along the floor in panic as a shaft of light moved across the grass over it, disappearing into the light.
George walked down to Ffion and stood by her side. Ffion changed back to her human self, still sat on the ground, and the duo looked up at the six-foot figure next to them. The new Reaper turned its back to the sun, making it hard for the pair to see any features. Extending its hand out to help Ffion off the floor, it spoke to her in a male human voice.
“I’ve waited so long to be able to hold your hand once more…..” The Reaper reached up with his other hand and drew back the hood that was hiding his happy, warm, loving, smiling face, a single tear rolling down his cheek. Ffion was dumbstruck. A jumble of words and emotions raced though her head as her eyes welled up, blurring her sight, but the one word that mattered most to her came easily to her lips, “Daddy!”