Morning came very early for me the next day. Though I couldn’t be sure exactly what time it was due to the lack of sunlight, I could tell that it was morning. Light streamed through the window next to the bed I lay on, making the white walls almost painfully bright. Squinting against the glare, I looked around, able to get a much better view of the room.

The decorations to the room were very sparse, of course, but they were still beautiful in their simplicity. Furniture made from some kind of dark oak contrasted well with the color of the walls, and that gray rug completed it. Accenting colors existed in several places, I noticed now. A vase of wildflowers on the nightstand, a cluster of red, blue, and yellow given life by the light. The large dresser was home to several books, each with a bright cover in a different color.

The window was still closed, but I could hear sounds coming from outside. It was a nice, peaceful array of noises that included everything from birds chirping to the chuckling of a small stream. Confused, I tried to remember if I’d gone back to my home. No, I definitely remember going back to sleep in the Gray Plane. Another noise, this time a quiet sigh, made me turn back around.

Marisha was still there, laying across one half of the bed, her hair fanned out around her like a halo. She looked younger. Well, perhaps not younger, but more peaceful and relaxed. Her skin was smoother, with no signs of stress, and even her brown hair seemed to shine against the white sheets. She wore light-blue pajamas, looking quite out of place without her plaid shirts or black Reaper clothing.

My mind flashed back to the previous night when she’d slipped under the covers to join me. I recalled the feeling of peace as if all the troubles in the world had faded away at that moment. In her arms, I had finally been able to relax, and most importantly, rest well. I would have thought that having a woman in my bed for the first time would have been a nervous, if slightly exciting affair, but I was equally pleased with the current circumstances.

She shifted slightly on the mattress, pulling the sheets further up until only her head was exposed, and let out another sigh. I’d made that kind of noise enough times to recognize it. It was the sound of complete relaxation after a hard day. Or in her case, I guessed, a hard week. Maybe month.

Not wanting to wake her and ruin her peace, I slipped out of the bed as quietly as I could manage. There was a pair of white slippers along the bed, and I slid my feet into them, surprised at how well they fit. They also made no noise against the soft carpet as I slipped over to the door and exited the room. It was finally time to see what the rest of the house looked like.

The bedroom led to another white-paneled hallway, with more of that gray carpeting and accenting pieces of dark oak. I found it interesting how, apart from my own clothing, there wasn’t a single black item to be found in this place. The hallway led to another, much larger room designed and decorated in the same fashion. It had the look of a study. A fire crackled merrily in the corner, and there were comfortable seats placed around the room. Tomas sat in one of these, reading a dark green book by the fire.

“Silas,” he commented, gesturing to another seat by the fire. “Good morning. Please, sit with me.”

Still distracted by the simple yet elegant design of the house, I complied. Tomas was wearing a long white robe over a dark blue shirt and pants. His feet were bare, and he slouched in a cross-legged posture. I couldn’t make out the title of his book, which was written in thin gold lettering, but he seemed like he’d been totally engrossed in it.

“This is a very nice home you have,” I said as I sat down. “I can’t help but notice there’s no black in your color palette.”

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“Black is the color of death,” Tomas replied, turning a page of his book. “I do not wish for it to be present in my home.”

“That’s logical. Then I assume white is the color of life?”

“Not to me,” he corrected. “White is the color of balance in my eye. It is pure, unsullied, and pleasant. It can neither hate nor love. It is the combination of all colors, yet stands out on its own.”

“Like you.”

“Yes, I suppose it is like me. But it happens to be my favorite paint color. As I hate the color black, it is only natural to choose white.”

“So there’s no deeper meaning to it?” I asked. “You just didn’t want to paint your walls black?”

Tomas glanced up from his book to survey the walls with a thoughtful frown. Then, after a significant pause, he turned another page. “No. It looks clean and airy.”

All of a sudden, I wanted to take off my black coat. I’d liked the color as long as I could remember, but it felt rather out of place here. In this peaceful, clean atmosphere, I might as well have been wearing a blood-stained shirt. I heard the sound of a bird chirping again and looked to the window in confusion.

“Why do I keep hearing natural sounds?” I asked, getting up again to look outside. “I thought the Gray Plane was devoid of life.”

But as I reached the window, I received a shock. A pleasant shock, truth be told, but still a shock. The house sat on the top of a large hill, and all over the hill was grass. Soft green grass that waved at me in the gentle breeze. I could see the stream as well, where it originated somewhere under the house and flowed down the hill. All along the edge of the flowing water were beds of flowers and fruits, their colors standing out bright as day. Nothing on the hill was gray in the slightest.

Even at the base of the hill, where I could see a quaint little gate, the signs of life were spreading beyond. It extended for several hundred feet past the barrier, slowly replacing the gray, toneless background with lush vegetation. And, the biggest shock of all, there actually was a sun here. It shined brightly out of a blue sky, embracing the formerly dry arid air with soothing warmth.

“This place is called Gentle Creek,” Tomas said. “It is not only my home but a center of life in Granis. When I, or in this case, you live within the walls, life exists on this plane.”

“Just being here is enough?” I asked in wonder. “You’re really that powerful?”

“It has nothing to do with Power, young Silas,” he replied. “This world shares a special bond with us. It gives us life and depends upon us for its own. Without you, it would be desolate.”

I thought about that for a while. Remembering the faint outlines of foundations when I’d first come to the Gray Plane, I realized that life must have existed here before. Now I knew what had caused the decline. Without Tomas’ life force, everything had collapsed and died away.

“You’re not Death,” I commented. “You’re not Life, either. You’re Balance, aren’t you?”

“No,” he corrected me. “We are Balance. Humans and Granis are the creatures of life and death. We are apart of them, but we are also the wardens. We keep the balance healthy.”

I turned away from the beautiful landscape in front of me and looked into his blue eyes. “The Reapers have destroyed that balance.”

“Yes,” he said sadly. “For thousands of years, it has remained broken. It must be fixed.”

“Which can only be done if the Reapers are dismantled. Do we have to kill them?”

“No,” he said. It was a happy thought, but his face still looked heavy. “We only have to kill one. The man they call the Grand Reaper.”