Shadow of Death

Death once fell in love with a being mortals call a monster, but never mind how they call her, humans aren't good at naming things they can't understand. By their standard of beauty, she looked hideous. A human-shaped body, only it is covered in glossy black feathers, her eyes were red, nose and lips merged and form a steel-hard beak. Her arms end up with claws and her feet, talons. She had wings too, wide wings the color of charcoal. She is the queen of the ravens, and she is beautiful in the eyes of Death, and she loved him too. They got married and had two children. The older one, a fair maiden whose form could pass as human, inherited her father's ability to see, hear and touch the intangible souls of mortals and her mother's feathered wings. Her little brother too had human form, only his face is marked with two black, parallel, vertical lines lining from his forehead, passing his eyes, down to his cheeks. He had taken from his father the ability to control shadows and from his mother, he took his fleetingness and power over the wind. Once they're grown and could, they were tasked by their father to help in matters concerning death. So from then on, the boy hovered on people whose death is perceived. Psychics and oracles would call him "Shadow of Death", and his sister would then take the soul of the deceased and guide them to the underworld when their time came, and for that, she was deemed "Wings of Death". The two of them made a good tandem and were beloved more and more by their father. It happened, however, why this story was written, that an unfortunate event had befallen. The oracles were no longer able to anticipate a person's death. They could not see the "Shadow of Death" anymore. It happened a long time ago, back when artificial lights weren't discovered yet, or even further than that. When the Shadow of Death came upon the palace to hover over a sentinel whose death is three days to come. It wasn't his first time staying in that palace, nor was seeing this sentinel or the king, or the little princess whom he liked looking at while tumbling down at her own steps as she learns to dance. Then he would laugh at the child, so wildly that his shadows would darken and is in threat of being revealed to mortal eyes. Oh, but wait! The princess that came in the palace doors today wasn't little anymore. She was a lady now, wearing a somehow revealing garment that showed her golden skin shining under Arabian heat. When exactly did he last come here? Eight, ten years ago? She looked really different in a familiar way. She stopped a moment before entering the palace and smiled at the guards, then went on with her entourage. At that moment the Shadow of Death almost stopped breathing and for a second he thought she must be wearing a mask. How could her face be real? He saw all kinds of beauty being hundreds of years old and traveling the world, but the princess was just somehow different. Never in his years of existence did he wish for anything more than to just look at the princess again, this time, for eternity. How he wished he could hover on one of her personal maids and follow her around rather than this unmoving guy who is so good at doing his job. He followed the princess with his gaze till the palace doors closed in. Now, when will he see her again? Or wait, will he ever get to see her again? He never was the patient one and he kept moving and moving over the sentinel for hours until the poor guy could feel an eerie chill he mistook for the night breeze. Soon, a second after midnight, replacement guards were sent. The sentinel, feeling relieved, went to his quarters to sleep. The Shadow of Death, however, was growing more and more impatient, almost to the point of panic. Though the guards' quarters were still inside the palace gates, he felt like he was taken away farther from the princess. It's one of those times he wished he had the capacity to sleep, so that time would run fast. Morning finally came, the sentinel woke up still feeling the cold air surrounding him, for the son of Death cannot contain his feelings anymore. He was restless while the man did his daily routine and was hyped when the sentinel finally put on his uniform for another day of standing. The clock hit four o'clock and the man was in his pose again. Inside the palace, there were guests sitting at a long table filled with exotic foods. One of them was the king's oracle, who came on a regular basis to read his Majesty's palm or explain the stars that hold the future and things like that. "I am sick, you see, are you sure I am going to be alright?" The king asked the oracle sitting on his left side. "Oh, father," The princess on his right held his hand tightly. "Don't speak of things such as that." "My king," replied the oracle. "was I ever wrong? You will recover." "That's good news then." The king smiled feverishly. "If there is anyone who would face death soon," The oracle continued. "It is one of your guards. Why! The Shadow of Death hovers upon him and I've never seen it so wild before. I can sense him from here." "That is absurd. None of my guards are sick." "My king, was I ever wrong?" And so, the news did not come to the king as a surprise when, a day after, one of his trusted guards died in his sleep by the venom of a snake. "When it is your time, it is your time. Sick or not, Death will find a way to take his claim." The king sighed as he gave his condolences to the family who was called in immediately to the palace just before the sun rose. As for the soul of the sentinel, he calmly took the hands of the Wings of Death and smiled at her. "Are you not afraid of Death dear one?" She asked while they walked hand in hand in the moonlit dunes. "Death as my father said, is no villain. It is but Life's friend, and indeed, Life would make way for it when it takes its claim." "Wise man." She said, then spread her black wings and flew, holding him. Meanwhile, the Shadow of Death felt magnified to the palace. He stayed long after his sister had gone with the soul. He could feel his father pointing him to another mortal miles and miles away from here. The next one he is assigned to hover upon, but he could not bear to take a small step away. Instead, he found himself floating towards the palace and over the grand stairs, to a fancy-looking room in which the princess was sleeping tightly in a bed full of silken-covered pillows. His ghastly fingers were about to touch her, but his father's call grew stronger. With obvious reluctance, he floated out of the window and out of the palace. The story could have ended here, but the Shadow of Death made his way to the underworld instead of a mortal's house. He simply took a pinch of his own shadow and made it hover upon the dying mortal. He found Death, sitting on a rock facing a black watered river. His tattered cloak was up, so his face is shadowed and he did not move even as his son spoke. "Father," he said as he floated nearer. "I ask of you a favor you might not like." "May I hear it first?" Came the reply. Death's voice was surprisingly neither fiery nor cold. It didn't have the deep, scary tone most people think he has. In fact, it has some sort of normalcy in it, you could be talking to your old friend, not some dangerous, immortal being that could probably spell the end of you. "May I please be released from the task that you've given?" For a moment, there was only the sound of the gurgling river. Then, Death took a stone by his side, aimed it at the river and tactically threw it. The stone jumped a few times in the water, before safely landing on the other side. Death's hands rested on his lap then. Hands that were not of an old man, it looked youthful and flawless. If only he hadn't worn an ancient-looking cloak, we could have mistaken him for a mortal teenager. "Should I ask for the reason, or would you voluntarily tell me?" He stood to look at his son, face still shadowed by the cloak, then he listened to the story. When the tale ended, the Shadow of Death was standing on the ground, not flying anymore. He felt powerless against his feelings as if he was not worthy of ruling the winds. Death went closer till his son can look unto his abyss-like black eyes. "If you wish to leave your task for the mortal, then you are to do so..." he said. The Shadow of Death stared at his father disbelievingly, but then Death continued, "Only if the mortal would also wish for it."