It feels strange to wait in the waiting room without Clover, to speak with Wolf and to knock on the gigantic gate. This is what the rest of my life – or death – will be like, and there's something depressive about it. Clover is not perfect, and I certainly know I am not either. But he has been there since I died, no matter how grumpy and cold he might have been the first weeks. The thought of being alone creates a heavy lump in my chest.

Nor did Clover belong to the Eleven. I know I'll see him when the apprenticeship ends, he had after all said he'd take me and Artemis to the Oak and Arkaros. Yet I have a fear we might never see each other again.

I'm not sure what I see him as. But one thing is clear – there are things he's hiding, even from Artemis. I hate that he has seen my deepest thoughts, shame and guilt. Yet he's likely the only friend I have here. It would be different if I still had been alive. If I'd hear myself say something like that and then in the next second call them a friend, I'd probably wonder if I had lost all common sense. But here things are complicated, I cling to the few things that I have, even the unhealthy ones. I barely recognize myself.

I fiddle the paper while I wait for the number above the tree door to change. Once it finally happens, I sweep my eyes over the soul wanderers. It's easy to see who is alone and who is bringing their apprentices. I know I'll be one of them soon, even though I'm only dipping my toes right now.

Once I get inside of Blomst's office, she's sitting behind the desk and moves a hand over the messy papers. It bothers me that she's not using magic to keep things tidy and orderly, the way that Saturn had.

"One moment, Orchid," she says and flips through the papers.

For an impatient woman she's surprisingly good at keeping others waiting. Not that it'd be something I ever tell her. While the air feels still and comfortable, I know how it felt when she or Couleur was angry. I have a feeling that even Cerberus' anger will feel the exact same. A devastating wave that knocks you off your feet.

Blomst pulls her hand through the air with a single sweep; a chair grows out from the ground. I sit down while she continues to flip through the pages.

"Aha!" She smiles proudly as she pulls out a paper from the messy piles of loose pages. "There you are."

She puts her free hand against her cheek.

"Almost three weeks has passed since you arrived. Time flies, does it not? Or what is it you humans say?"

"Yes, but I can imagine it goes much quicker for you."

I don't know how old she is – if she even has an age. As far as I know she might as well have always existed.

She smiles, yet it doesn't reach her eyes.

"I didn't always have a sense of time. One, hundreds or thousands of years, everything felt just as long. I was taught that time can be ruthless and then a year, a month or a week feels like an eternity."

I don't know how to react. The sorrow, just like her wrath had done, fills the entire room and makes the air heavy and suffocating.

"So no, I don't think time goes any faster for me."

The weight of the air makes me bite down hard; I want to take a deep breath, but I have a feeling that I don't want to show my discomfort. Blomst pulls out another page that she lays on top of the other. The sorrow still hangs over us like heavy clouds, it's not as visible on her face. I must have touched a very frail part of her, and it's more terrifying than the anger she'd shown. Not even the cold and starry gaze that Saturn had beats this fragile sorrow.

She takes a deep breath and keeps her hand over one of the papers. The strong emotions that touch each and every millimeter of this room disappears. She looks up at me and smiles, this time it reaches her eyes. A single shiver climbs my back.

"Tomorrow is the last day of your apprenticeship," Blomst says like she hadn't woven the entire room with her sorrow.

It was too early; I had expected my apprenticeship to at least be for another few days.

"The last day for you will be the first day for Eclipse. That shouldn't be a problem," she says and pulls a finger over the paper on the top of the pile, "it might even be needed."

Before I can ask what she means with that she lays a new paper on top of the pile. On it the name Rampion bellflower is written, I cannot imagine it's someone else but Rampion. But what does he have to do with me?

"I've already decided what you'll specialize in."

"I cannot choose?" I ask even though I know that's not an option.

She shakes her head. "No, then the hard areas would never be chosen. Don't worry, Orchid. I would never place you somewhere I think you couldn't handle."

"What have you chosen for me then?" I ask and squeeze my hands underneath the desk.

She pulls forward another paper in the pile and lays it on top of the one with Rampion's name. Once I lay my eyes on the words HEALTH/SICKNESS I feel relief. As long as I don't have to deal with murder or suicide I don't care where she'll place me.

"Health and sickness. I think it'll suit you," she says with a smile. "As the name suggest, any death surrounding health is what you'll deal with. Be it diseases, inflammations, flus. They all count. So, this could be death caused by cancer, heart attack, allergy, or blood poisoning. And many more."

If I had died before my dad could it have been I that reaped his soul? I'd probably not even remember him.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"If you specialize within health and sickness you have a choice. You'll have the opportunity to visit the humans whose souls you'll reap before their death. It can happen – earliest – a few months before, you'll have an exact date when you'll reap their souls. You can show them whatever form you want. You can be yourself, their mother, grandparent, a family friend or even their pet. The only rule is that they have already died, nor can it be the shape of a soul wanderer, except yourself. You don't have to do any of it, you can walk in the same day that you'll reap them – once they've already passed. I've noticed that most prefer to meet them before."

"Why is that?"

"I think it makes them feel better. Most soul wanderers make themselves apathic to the reaping, after a time it's human after human, soul after soul. It's not personal anymore, it becomes a job. For each soul they take, the more apathic they grow to the art of reaping, for life. Those who specializes in health and sickness have a chance to create a strong link between themselves and the human they're reaping. It can be more painful, but they won't lose the importance of a soul and what it means to die. If you want to keep the feeling of being human, I suggest you do the same."

I've noticed it with Clover. How indifferent he seems over the reaping, even if he does show some sort of care for them. If he didn't, he wouldn't be so careful to make sure they don't end up as a specter or wraith. But I've never seen him show any regret for any soul he has reaped.

"Why cannot everyone do that, no matter the areas?"

Blomst sighs with her head slightly leaned downwards. "No person questions sick humans if they see things. If all humans start talking about seeing someone, that no one else can see and dies shortly after, we have involved ourselves too much."

Saturn had said the same thing – that our presence cannot be noticed in the living world. I'm not sure how I should feel or think. I'm not even sure if I should do what she's suggesting. It feels wrong to get to know someone whose soul you'll reap. Yet, she has a point. If I want to keep the human – the moral – side of me then I must push through even more pain.

Blomst lays her hands over the paper and studies me with her light blue eyes.

"I was surprised." She pushes her hand over her chin and leans back. "I heard you met Cerberus in the Eleven, at the well."

My entire body stiffens. The first thought I have is not about Cerberus but about Clover and what Rampion had told me. I try to calm down, but everything I do feels unnatural and forced.

"I wanted to explore the Eleven," I say and try to sound as normal as I can.

"I can imagine that the well was quite the shock."

She smiles; I don't trust it.

"That's one way of putting it."

I'm somehow able to sound more confident than what I feel.

"It was Cerberus that recommended health and sickness." Her smile grows. "He said that he thought it'd fit you. The conversation at the well must have been very personal if he – that is not your guardian – knows what area would fit you best."

This has nothing to do with me or the well. This is all about power play. Blomst didn't like that another guardian had something to say about her soul wanderer, and that he was bold enough to tell her what he thought was best for me. If the guardians didn't scare me, I'd laugh at them. I wait for her to finish her power play even though Cerberus isn't here to hear it. Or she wants to remind me who I work for. It doesn't matter, they can argue as much as they like.

"I happen to agree with him. So, I took Cerberus suggestion to heart."

I'm happy she's not so petty that she'd put me somewhere else. Blomst continues to study me, and when it seems she cannot find what she's looking for, she moves the paper with Rampion's name over the other.

"Either way, you'll follow Rampion bellflower on his contract once it's time to reap the soul. In three days if I remember correctly. He'll show you what it means to reap within health and sickness. And the day after that," she says with a smile, "you're ready to reap on your own."

Three days. One day with Clover and Eclipse, a free day and another with Rampion. I feel no joy for this, if anything I feel worried. Blomst seems to think that I am ready for this. I cannot see it myself.

She puts the papers together and lay them on top of the messy pile to her side. She places a stone on the desk, right in front of me. It shines in orange, and I know what it is.

"I've decided to give it to you now. You'll need it to one of tomorrow's reaping contracts. I expect you to not use it beyond that contract, at least until the apprenticeship is done."

I have no plans to defy a guardian, even if I'd like to leave the Eleven and never return. A few more days I can handle.

I caress the stone with my fingers, like usual I cannot feel a single thing, not that I expected anything else. I put it in my pocket.

"If you have any questions, you know where I am," Blomst says.

I doubt I'd like to sit in the waiting room for a single question.

Once I get up from my chair, I notice that Blomst has already made a gate on the wall for me. This one will lead me straight back to the Eleven. I cannot even force a smile when I approach the door. I take a breath; I hope it's quiet enough to hide it from Blomst. I open the door and head through the darkness.

As I thought the Eleven welcomes me with its strangeness. Clover is sitting on the step at the bottom of the stairs, he stands up when he hears me. Eclipse is nowhere to be seen.

"I thought you'd be back in the Oak by this time," I say and take a few steps down so I stand a few steps above him.

"I was waiting for you."

I look around. "Where is Eclipse?"

"In her room, I guess. I showed her the building." He doesn't sound very interested to continue the conversation about Eclipse. "What did Blomst say?"

"That my apprenticeship is soon over. Tomorrow is our last contract together."

There's something sad that it's ending.

He grimaces his mouth. "Already?"

"She thought I was ready. Have you been sitting here all this time to ask that?"

"No. Listen, Orchid," he says with a softer voice, "About before. I'm sorry."

He had apologized before, once for almost getting me killed in the forest. This apology sounded different.

"For what?" I ask.

"For what I said. I have no right to tell you how to deal with your burdens."

I didn't want to talk about it. The best would be if he pretended it never happened, I'd rather forget it completely.

"It's fine," I say and walk down the stairs, past him.

"It's not," he says and I wonder if he's even talking to me, it sounds more like he's saying it because he needs to.

I continue to walk towards the moon-forest, and Clover follows me.

"I was upset when you saw through me," he says and it sounds like I'm listening to myself. "So I wanted you to know I had seen through you too. It was immature. Frankly, even before that. In the market and in the woods."

I stop and turn around.

He continues, "I should never have yelled at you, and I'm a bloody fool for sending you away before explaining what I needed you to do in the forest."

"You know, Clover, it wasn't me that saw through you." He frowns. "It was Artemis."

His face becomes smooth for a few seconds before he pushes a hand against his face. "Damnit."

I'm not sure how he thought he could hide it from her, why he hadn't even doubted that she had seen through this play of his. This reaction says everything I need to know – he hadn't even thought of the possibility of her knowing.

Once he lowers his hand I continue speaking, "I don't know what you're going through right now, but I hope you realize that you're only pushing her further and further away."

His face is as clear as Cerberus' had been at the well. Whatever is haunting him he'll keep to himself. He'll push her away if he has to. I'm not sure what to say. Not to Clover, nor Artemis.

"Do as you wish, but it wouldn't hurt to give her something."

I'm not so sure he understands. It feels like I'm standing on the outskirts watching a relationship being destroyed. I want to ask him about the well and what Rampion had said, yet I know it has nothing to do with me. Soon I won't be Clover's apprentice and I have no right to get involved in his business. Yet as always, these thoughts refuse to cease the pestering of my mind.