All thirty-two apprentices had been organized, ranging in 4 lines of eight, depending on how they performed in the previous tasks. It was the first time I’d heard that they may be assessing us, but it didn’t really come as a surprise. After all, it made no sense for them to put us through such a grueling task, and not measure our performance, right?

And before you ask, no, I was not first. But I’d be lying if I said I’d expected to be. And I don’t lie if I can help it. It was some comfort to discover that Kanda hadn’t taken the top spot either. Nope, that went to Matthias, the big guy I’d fought in our last Capture the Flag game. Despite my first thought being ‘but he lost’, I quickly realized why he was in first place. Out of all the apprentices, he’d been the most strategic, both with his barrier and his directing of his teammates. They’d won their first match due to his surprisingly good grasp on tactics.

Second place went to Kanda. It was hard to tell if he looked disappointed by that or not. He certainly looked smug when he spotted me to his right, in third place, but he didn’t comment on it. I pointedly ignored him as I waited for the Grand Reaper to address us. I fancied I could even hear Marisha snickering to the side, where the other Reapers were gathered.

“Figured you’d be top three,” I heard a voice say to my right. “Not surprised.”

I turned to see who was speaking, surprised that there wasn’t any malice or sarcasm in the statement. It was the pale-haired guy who’d saved my ass in the last game. He had come in fourth, then, I thought with a little nod. It made sense. He’d easily had the most impact in that last game, even if it had exhausted him to the point of collapsing.

“Hey, you’re top ten,” I replied. “That’s nothing to sneeze at.”

We shared a grin, then both straightened and faced the front as we saw the Grand Reaper come into view. There was no stage for him to walk on, of course, because we were back in the forest, but his presence was still impossible to miss. He paced back and forth in front of the first row of apprentices a few times, staring at each in silence before he spoke.

“Congratulations on surviving this far, Apprentices.” Rictus Veridin said. “You have displayed your power, daring, and skills to the best of your ability.”

A brief wave of applause broke out among the other Reapers as he paused. There were even a few whistles among the noise which embarrassed us but made most people laugh. The crowd fell silent as Rictus gave them a stern look. Satisfied, he continued.

“The next and final event will be something new for the Reaper, but a rather familiar concept among the young folk,” Rictus said, a faint grin on his face. “That is, of course, a battle royale.”

Murmurs broke out all around me, but I was confused. Did he really mean that we’d fight until only one of us was still up? I didn’t object to the challenge of it, not really, but it was super dangerous. We’d all been spending our time training as elite killers, hadn’t we? They were really going to set us loose on each other?

“Needless to say,” Rictus said, quelling the murmurs. “You will each be given a talisman that protects you from death. The worst that can happen is maiming, and we can recover from that.”

More laughter from the non-apprentices at this, and more murmurs from our ranks. Even those who had sounded excited about the concept of a battle royale now sounded like they had misgivings. For my part, I was more concerned about the fact that we were lined up in ranks. It had just occurred to me that there was no point in this system unless they wanted to draw attention to it. Rictus seemed to be thinking along similar lines.

“You’ll be wondering why we’ve organized you by your placement, of course,” he commented. “This is to illustrate where you currently stand among your peers, and to indicate your victims.”

“Victims?” some of the apprentices muttered in confusion, then fell silent again.

“Those with the lowest score will enter the field first,” Rictus explained. “One at a time, five minutes apart, until everyone has gone. The game starts as soon as the first person leaves.”

Now it all made sense. If you got into the trees first, you had a chance to hide and prepare a good ambush. All the advantages would be with you. Conversely, those of us who went in last would have the hardest time. We’d be at a disadvantage for the beginning, with all of our targets disguised and hidden from us. It was a very cruel trick, but definitely in character for the Reapers.

“The last four apprentices standing will be guaranteed promotion,” Rictus said. “And the final will be crowned Champion. Now that I’ve explained, you have ten minutes to discuss strategy with your Masters.”

Some of the Apprentices stood in a shocked daze for a few seconds, but a few, including myself, Kanda, and Matthias, moved at once. I wound my way through the crowd until I came to stand before Master Mikel. He nodded briefly in welcome, Marisha at his side. He looked calm and uncaring, but Marisha looked nervous.

“Alright,” I said. “Any advice?”

“Marisha spoke to me about your potential Martial specialty,” Mikel said. “I thought it was possible until I remembered that you are also a Manipulator.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. “Being a Martial and a Manipulator sounds like a handy combo.”

“It’s too handy,” Mikel said shortly. “Because it is impossible. One cannot be both of these at once. They are in direct conflict.”

“Meaning,” I thought aloud. “That there’s never been anyone with those two? Like there’s never been a Reaper with a scythe?”

“No. In this case, there have been a few cases. But the two natures conflict to the point that it destroys the host long before they awaken as a Reaper.”

“Oh,” I said, lowering my eyes. The next sarcastic retort I’d had planned died away. “So what could it be then?”

“Tell me,” he said, frowning deeper than ever. “During your training or fighting, have you experienced moments where you seemed to fall asleep, or else, things seemed to move in a haze or a blue, where you weren’t sure what happened?”

“Yes,” I said, my brain grinding to a halt. I hadn’t told anybody about that. “Twice so far.”

“Was one of them when you were sparring in the dojo downtown?” Marisha put in. “When you faced against Rick?”

I nodded silently. “What does it mean?”

Mikel let out a sigh. “It is a rare ability. So rare, that I have only seen one in my lifetime. And he died before I could learn more about it.”

“You make it sound so peaceful,” I snorted. “What’s it called?”

“Avatar,” Marish said. “Avatars have the ability to channel their ancestor’s skill, power, specialties, and even sometimes their appearance.”

“The reason that it is so rare,” Mikel added. “Is because you cannot be an Avatar unless your ancestor isn’t truly dead. That means that your ancestor’s soul is still alive somewhere in the world.”

I gawked at them and wanted to ask more, but at that moment a horn blew, and the Reapers let out a loud shout of encouragement, clearly sending the first participant into the field. Mikel grabbed my arm and hissed one last thing.

“The one thing I know about Avatars is that their power is most accessible when they face a task that their ancestor excelled at. So be careful. Also, avoid fighting Kanda for as long as possible.”

Then he shoved me away, returning to his cross-armed and silent stance. It almost seemed like we hadn’t talked. Marisha looked more nervous than before if that were possible. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought they were pulling some huge practical joke on me. They took this kind of thing too seriously to joke about it, however. So they thought I was an Avatar, then? And they had said that my ancestor was still alive, somewhere in the world.

Half right. A voice said in my brain. I flinched and jumped to the side, drawing a few weird looks. The voice sounded as though someone had whispered the words into my left ear. But there was nobody there.

“What?” I muttered silently to myself. “What the hell was that?”

I strained my ears, but couldn’t hear anything else above the noise of the crowd. Suppressing the urge to shiver, I pushed the matter resolutely out of my head. I needed time to focus and gather myself, not delude myself with voices in my head.

Wise choice. Ignore your best chance for survival.

I yelped. I’m not proud to admit it, but it happened. “Who the hell are you?”

Someone that nobody else will hear, the voice said. I could almost detect laughter. Speak in your head, man. Don’t embarrass yourself.

Now, let’s be honest. A disembodied voice enters your mind, and nobody else around you can tell? That’s clinical insanity. If anyone found out, they’d lock me up in a straight jacket faster than I could blink. Well, I did end up telling people later, and they didn’t lock me up, but it’s a good example. But Reaper life was weird enough, and I’d just learned that I might be able to channel aspects of my ancestors. So naturally, I decided to oblige him.

Sorry. Who the hell are you?

I’ve had a few names, the voice said again. But I guess you can call me Tomas. Tomas Miridis.