The man stood near the river of the dead. His hands carried a woman who looked nothing less to a water being because of her translucent texture that didn’t have a solid form as she was a dead person. Someone who had died years ago, which even Crane didn’t keep count of as he didn’t know she existed. His grey eyes stared down at her. 

Almost an hour had passed since he had come to stand on the bank of the river, but he hadn’t let go of her. He continued to carry her in his arms. Only memory and fragment was left of Preciosa, the woman he once loved dearly and Crane still loved her. He wasn’t willing to let her go but keeping her was not going to do any good. Winston had kept her out of the river for many years. If Crane knew about her, about who he was and what Winston had done, Crane would have tried to revive her but it was too late. 

Crane’s hollow eyes that never had any emotion hardened at the thought of what could have been done if only he had the knowledge. 

Far away from where Crane stood, Rower and Edgar stood next to each other. 

“Why not bring her back?” Edgar asked Rower in a whisper.

“A soul in the river of the dead is always safe. The water as ugly and dirty as it looks, it has properties that keeps the souls alive, souls that have life. When you take the soul out, it is nothing less to a fish without water,” answered Rower who was assigned in this part of the land of the dead, “These souls have no names, they just float.”

Rower noticed how Crane had not moved from the spot where he was standing. His back was stiff as usual, not having uttered a word nor emotion passing by his face. When a person turned dead and entered this land, in here, they had little to no emotion. That was how most of the creatures here were. 

“How did you grow tall?” Rower questioned, his eyes moving to the corner to look at the gatekeeper who wasn’t as tall as him but compared to his previous height, there was a lot of difference. 

“It was the mortal girl.”

“Ah, Miss Adams,” Rower nodded his head, “Who knew we would be having a new Grim added, especially one who is more mortal than dead.”

Edgar raised his shoulders, “I would have never guessed Cross was Guilt. Did you know?” asked the gatekeeper, turning his head to Rower who had a peaceful expression on his face, “Of course, you know. The four of you always were close.”

“That’s a hard thing to say,” replied Rower.

The four original Grims-Edith, Rower, Wrath and Guilt, they were the creations of Crane and each of them lived by themselves. Rower wondered if his sister and brothers were close. The answer to it was no, but if one were in need of help, the others would be there to help. It was strange, thought Rower to himself. 

“I heard Gorron is taking over the responsibilities of all the Grims who were created by Winston,” said Rower.

“Aye. Baltimore has been asked to do desk work for causing trouble. I must say Greed is a lucky bugger for not having the same punishment. Must be because of Guilt,” Edgar responded back and Rower smiled. 

“Maybe. Greed is like a child to Guilt. The boy always followed him around, taking his inspiration,” a small sigh escaped Rower’s lips. He saw Crane bent down to put the soul back in the river of the dead. He wondered how painful it was for his creator to be feeling the sudden overwhelming rush of feelings that belonged to him. To remember that he lost someone dear to him.

When Crane stood up, he didn’t turn around but disappeared in a blink of an eye. 

Like the rest of the Grims and death reapers, Rower went back to work as the chaos that had taken place in the land of the dead had been stopped. Days continued to pass by, where souls of the dead were transferred from the living to the dead, some who made it through the gates, while some got lost or were thrown into the river before Rower let them ride his boat. 

Four weeks passed when a lowly death reaper arrived at the bank of the river. 

“Where is the soul?” inquired Rower. 

“It is parchment for you, Sir Rower,” answered the reaper. Rower raised his brows to take hold of the so-called parchment. 

“This is an invitation,” Rower corrected the death reaper. Before he had the opportunity to open and read it, he heard someone screaming from the other side of the forest, “What is that sound of dying animal?” 

“ROWEEEERRR!” came the scream from one side of the forest. Soon a Grim reaper came running through the trees, making its way to where Rower and the reaper was. The Grim reaper had red eyes and was of medium height with an extremely loud voice, “ROWERRR!!!”

“I don’t think there’s a need to shout if you have seen me and I have seen you, Barron,” Rower reminded the young Grim who was not younger anymore as the girl had replaced his position.

Barron who wasn’t in his rabbit form anymore, waved his boney hands, “Did you get the invitation?!”

Rower raised his hand to show the invitation if that is what Barron was asking about, “What is it?” It seemed like Barron had received it and by the name on the envelope, Rower could guess what was in there.

“They are getting married and do you know where the location is?!” asked Barron, “Right here! In the land of the dead. Why do you think they are getting married here?”

“You didn’t ask them?” Rower asked, slightly surprised at the venue of the wedding. 

Barron pulled out his pocket watch and said, “I will ask them in a few hours. Do you think Crane will allow it?”

“It should be fine. There’s no rule that one cannot get married in the land of the dead, considering this is the first case,” Rower shrugged. He opened the card to read the message written in it-

‘We would like to invite you to our wedding this Sunday at the house of Adams in the land of the dead. Belle and Lucas.’

“It isn’t a bad place,” commented Rower, “Looks like everything turned in their favour and there’s no need to worry. How’s your discussion going on with Crane, Barron?”

Barron turned to look at the lowly reaper to wave his hand as if he was shooing him from there and the reaper quickly left Barron and Rower behind at the bank of the river, “Do you want to get on the boat?” offered Rower and Barron stepped on the boat before taking a comfortable place to seat. 

“Crane said I cannot take Belle’s help, because a dead person is supposed to rest once they are dead,” Barron had turned to look at the river that softly wavered on its surface without staying still as the movement of the boat was causing the water to move, “Right now I can meet Ophelia only in the lake of bones, but it isn’t that bad. It’s good to see her and talk to her.”

“You know what you should do?” asked Rower who was slowly rowing the boat backward, “Get Miss Belle to revive Preciosa.”

“The chances of me turning to dust is higher than me trying to get hold of her,” Barron huffed, “By the way where is she?” asked the curious Grim reaper.

“Somewhere safe, sleeping,” answered Rower before asking, “What happened to that little toy of yours?”

“What toy? What do you think? Am I a child?” Barron rolled his eyes.

“I was speaking about that rabbit,” Rower said and saw Barron quickly close his mouth.

“That’s not a toy, he has a name. Mr. Fluffs has been with Belle since she was a small girl. Did you know that Lucas used to tell her stories of the dead? No wonder she wasn’t scared of me when we first met!”

“Must be interesting ones,” hummed Rower. 

Barron continued to look at the river, spending time with Rower as they rowed in the boat. Far away from the river of the dead and land of the dead, in the land of the living, Belle sat on the rooftop looking at the sunset and the busy village was turning warm in colour. From the village, she heard the bell ring loudly, its sound echoing around for her to listen to. 

With all the disruptions that had been going on a few days ago, right now, Belle felt like there was nothing to do. Her hands were empty except in helping the souls to pass through from the living to the dead. In the beginning, it was strange to do it as she was no more a normal person but she was a Grim Reaper. 

Like every other card bearer in the card of Grims, Crane had bestowed her with a name. The Priestess. 

The first week of catching souls was not easy for her because seeing them cry, Belle sat down giving the souls words of encouragement which in the end led to her taking the souls to their families so that they could visit before passing to the next land. Some souls even ran away, and it had been a troublesome week. 

A sigh escaped her lips. 

“What are you doing up here?” came Lucas’ voice and Belle turned to see him walking on the roof of the mansion without having the need to balance as he was an expert in it, “The mansion is big and so is the ground, yet you have the habit of coming up here,” he stated, his eyes taking in Belle who had pulled her legs close to her facing the village. 

Walking towards her, Lucas took a seat next to her. 

“Do you think the others would question?” she asked him. 

“About?”

“The place we are going to get married…” Belle trailed. 

The reason she had picked the place was that she hoped she would be able to see or feel her parents presence, the people whom she cared and loved. There was a spell that pulled out the last essence of the soul that was in the world, and she had found it in Lucas’ book. But the spell could be used only on souls that were damaged because once the spell was performed, the remaining essence would be lost. 

“We can get married here again. Two weddings don’t sound that bad,” Lucas replied, “And people in the dead lack appetite, I doubt it would turn expensive,” he joked to have Belle smile, “I don’t mind anything, Belle and I mean it. I am happy where you are.”

Lucas put his hand around her shoulders, bringing her close, “I miss them,” she whispered. 

“I know,” he kissed the side of her head. 

Now that life had turned quiet again, and the Grims who lived around them all day along, it reminded how quiet her life was. She was glad to be a Grim reaper because it gave more than one purpose and keep her mind occupied. Belle didn’t know what she would have done if it weren’t for Lucas who had shown up at that night when his pocket watch that came from the dead world had tricked him. She would have been lost, and worse, dead. 

“Thank you, Lucas,” she said, her hand finding his. Interlocking her fingers, she said, “Thank you for loving me and for being there.”

“Where else would I be if not by your side?” asked Lucas, his voice playful, “You were this stubborn little thing, always climbing the trees.” Belle’s eyes shifted to look at the apple orchard, a smile coming up on her lips. 

“You know…one of these days we need to clean the garden and put the bones in the lake of bones,” she said, wondering when Lucas found time to dig and put the bodies without anyone’s notice.

“Yes, Miss Belle,” came the dutiful answer from Lucas and Belle snuggled closer to him.