You can't escape Death <Frans>

CHAPTER 3: The First Fallen

The Reaper wasn't always like this.

Once a caring, kind soul— but now— completely devoid of emotions.

Anything he touches only reduces to ash in the end— for he will never be happy. A curse set upon him as a small child, only to roam the realms in the end for millions of millennia.

A god.

The god of death.

What people refuse to open their eyes and see, is the fact that there is not one— but two gods of death. Brothers, always competing and thrashing at each other.

One reaps the prosperous— For the successful and people who have lived their lives to the fullest.

And the other, the sinned.

Death— the one who may reap the tortured— is said to be ominous. With a dark shall hung over his head, and a black robe to match as he visits each and every mortal being that have sinned at some point in their lives. It doesn't matter how powerful you may seem to yourself--or to others. He will always find you.

He shows no mercy. No remorse to the ones that beg for forgiveness.

Cutting their throats with his scythe, he never fails to complete the job that is given to him at task. He acts as if there was nothing better to do, but to Death, there was.

But Death was not always this way.

He is weak, yet powerful despite being a god. Every time someone takes the heart of an unsinful and pure mortal; a bit of his soul is diminished, and chipped away.

The greed of those irritating humans irked him greatly, and he would give anything to bid them all farewell and goodbye, but he was stuck here in this pitiful existence nonetheless. The murders that they commit with no hesitation would be the end of his existence, and he grows weaker and weaker at their hands.

"This entire world was just a kalopsia to Life." He grumbled, as he sighed and walked through the white, dull realm of the gods. "It's foul, and unforgiving." He continued to talk to himself as the time went on. It had seemed as if the seconds went on as days to him; ticking by slowly as another century went by, and the stupid mortals come up with another great way to destroy their home. "Why did she want to protect it so badly?"

It was the year 21XX, and the societies had gotten more and more corrupt, from what he had seen. Manipulating their hearts into broken mind slaves to bend to the higher power's will. It was almost sad that such intelligent creatures could be so stupid in the end.

He looked glumly at the white void of dusty, black trees. His home was desolate and dead, once a beautiful haven of greens and yellows, is nothing but a dull, emotionless place. He acted as if he had a hiraeth to live for. For Death's touch destroys everything around him, reducing everything he once loved to the very thing he despised most. It was the ultimate curse for his greatest sin.

Trying to bring back the dead.

Sitting there, in the trees, he had felt a great sorrow fall upon him, drowning him in the devastation that had finally caught up to him. Life and Death were always at odds. He destroys the very things that she creates, much like a younger sibling in competition with his older sister's attention.

However, Death was not trying to kill them. In fact, he hated killing them. He wished for nothing better than to just fade away and wait for the end of his reign as the God of Death, and have his power surpassed onto his next worthy successor.

But no one will ever be worthy of such a foul job. And that is why Death is still here.

"I apologize, Life." He said, looking through the trees, and spotting yet another soul that he must reap. "It is the end for them." He said, looking into the only light that ever seemed to resonate within his mellow darkness of a home. A small, faded light, about the size of his palm that comes to him to leave the land of the living, to be placed inside the chamber of souls.

It was their time. No matter how much it hurt, he had to, or the King would be very angry with him. His job was important to maintaining the balance of power to life-- her opposite, that was him, and his sole purpose in this universe.

He was her divergent.

"It is time for them to retire inside of this chamber to rest." He said, "They will be at peace, and will be set here for eternity." He said solemnly. "I am sorry, my friend." he sighed, closing his eyes and spreading his black wings of death upon his command. He was already so alamort as is, he did not want to see the effects of this exhausting job as a whole. He knew this would upset Life, and maybe the entire realm.

Flying into the castle, he landed upon the God of the Sky, or the King, and Life herself-- the Queen of gods. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Death?" He asked, looking down at him because of his tall figure. He was powerful and mighty, enough to get rid of every god in the area. His white chlamys hung over this body, much like the humans would fantasize and tell stories of this 'Zeus' character.

Death only retracted his wings, and called them to disappear, looking at the King with a melancholy sigh. The King's warm smile disappeared. Death was reluctant to do this in front of them and in front of their eyes. "She has been battling a very powerful illness, has she not?" Death said, looking at the two. Life held her hands over her mouth in a gasp, and looked at him with wide, teary eyes. "It is time." He said, as Life rushed over to her dying child in the bed that was nearest to him.

It stung his heart see his good friends like this, but they must have known that a human could not sustain life in the realm of the Gods. "Do not let him take her away!" Life cried, holding onto her child dearly, tears forming at the brims of her eyes.

But she only cried more when her precious husband did not move a muscle, and only looked down. "Step away from her, Toriel." The King said, lowly. " We must keep the balance of life and death." He said, touching his wife's arms, and pulling her back delicately, as if she were to break in half like porcelain.

"Asgore! We RAISED her!" He yelled, "Does that mean NOTHING to you?!" She said, yelling at him to cry, and to feel even the slightest bit of remorse to the acceptance of his little girl's death. "Chara was everything to us!" She cried, crumbling to her knees.

"We always knew this day would come." He said. "She lived a good life." He said, catching his voice in his throat in a pained wail. "Even if it were a short one." He looked at her small, fragile figure. He knew she would never be sick again in the chamber of souls, and she would remain at peace, whereas here, she would only suffer and continue to fight this illness.

With a raise of Death's arm, Life's hand extended before her child in despair to plead one last time for her mercy and her life. She wanted nothing but to keep her precious child alive so she could see her smile once more. however, Death's scythe was faster, and he sliced through the sick child's soul, thus trapping it inside of his great weapon, and sending it to the chamber of souls.

The Queen wailed in despair as her child slowly stopped breathing, and Death touched her forehead with the palm of his skeletal hand, thus sending her into an eternal rest. "You monster!" The Queen, in agony, wailed to both Death and her own husband. She was too angry, and too upset to think rationally, and in a matter of seconds, Death had disappeared once again. "I'll bring her back!" She cried. "I'll see her smile once more!" She cried in agony.

The first fallen child, a story that is not yet so simple, but starts with a tragedy.

Was Death the tragedy? Or was it Life?