Cursed Meets CuriousMature

Immortal. Apathetic. Curious. 300-something year old Reckoner, Ashe, is urged to take a fresh-blood Reckoner, Terra, under his wing. However, Ashe is more interested in Terra's sudden acceptance and interest in being a Reckoner. Ashe and Terra find themselves doing the true work of a Reckoner, much to Ashe's dismay. Their lives entangled--possibly forever--Ashe must get used to the very duty he's been avoiding since his birth as a Reckoner.

Green. No, maybe they were golden. No matter how many times I saw his eyes, I could never tell exactly what color they were. Sometimes, when I was able to gaze into those eyes, they would shimmer--the green and gold mixing together as if entangled in a lover's quarrel. Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn't hear him clear his throat as he stood in front of me. I didn't know that he came in here so often--about every week. He checked out a book each time too. Because of this, and my large quantity of hours here, I am usually the one to ring him up. Once again, I got lost in the complexity of his eyes and forgot what I was supposed to be doing. Snapping out of my thoughts, I slide his book towards me and scanned it. I proceeded with the transaction, unaware that he was studying me.

Why is she always staring at me? Not only that, but when she does her gaze seems transfixed on me in awe. She's nothing more than a child--naïve and ignorant of the real world. I almost pity her. Still, I smile at her once those eyes dart my way again. She looks away, her cheeks flushed. Tch, it's almost cute the way she blushes. Suddenly, the girl hands me my book and receipt. Feeling amused, I decide to brush my hand against hers as I took them. She lowered her head and her face reddened even more. As I turned to leave, her eyes met mine again. I winked at her and waved before leaving the bookstore.

"Flirting again?" My brother asked as I slide in the truck.

"Only for her amusement. I think she has a slight crush. It's almost cute. Almost."

I had become apathetic to mortals and their frantic, fleeting emotions. It was just one circle with them--they're born, they find love, and they die. The ones who are left must learn to love the memories of them and move on. How can a single mortal life be so tragic and wonderful? They disgust me. I got tired of appeasing their selfish ways. Now, I may 'flirt,' as my brother calls it, simply to satisfy my boredom, but that's it. Still, if I was so bored, why do thoughts of them linger? Perhaps it's what is left of my mortality and the remembrance of those feelings of love and loss. However, that was some 300 years ago. The life of a Reckoner can be such a curse.

"She's different. You've noticed it, haven't you?" My brother asked.

"She's no different. Not from any other mortal."


"Don't, Aaron. I don't want to hear it."

I didn't want to think about that. The thought of someone innocent like her becoming a Reckoner was too painful. The process alone is painful enough. I remember the day I became a Reckoner. It was the same day I died. God, I wish I would've just stayed dead. I never asked for this. I don't want it.

Aaron drove us back to the house. We were silent on the ride home. I knew he was worried about me. He may be older than me--in mortal years--but he acted like a child sometimes...or our Mom. I have more experience as a Reckoner than he does, but it's like that doesn't matter. He still acts like a mortal. Sometimes, I wonder if it's to feel closer to Mom. After all, we're the ones who got her killed. Why does he have to be so clingy? Climbing out of the truck, I began walking away as Aaron called out to me.

"She's going to die, Ashe. I can feel it so I know you can too. That means she could become one of us. As much as you say you hate being a Reckoner, you should hate for others to share your fate more," Aaron stated earnestly.

"So? You want me to keep her from dying? Just because we can feel it doesn't mean it's going to happen soon. That's not how it works, remember? Reckoners get that sixth sense crap if they go near potential Reckoners. When people die, it doesn't guarantee them a spot in Reckoner paradise. Besides, why should I stop it? She's going to die anyway. All mortals do."

With that, I stormed away to my hideout-away-from-home. Here, I could read and look out at the scurrying townspeople. Here, perched in an abandoned clock tower on the edge of town, I could pretend I was back home where I belonged--before my mortal clock stopped.

The End

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