Chasing Death

Chapter 7

"Even if Death is the easiest choice, doesn't mean it is the right one."

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"So, do you have a good plan on how we could get to the Fates' office and access their system? " I asked. I was sitting on the chaise lounge, nervously fidgeting with my hands, and Mrithun was on his chair, staring into nothingness.

"Certainly none of us can walk in there and demand the keys, not to mention the password of their system." He rolled his eyes. "The answer is stealth. Now I could go disguised..."

"Won't they sense your presence?" I asked.

His eyes shot up at me.

"I mean, you are Death. Aren't you supposed to have, I don't know, an aura or something?" I pointed.

"Yeah, the bitches can detect me from a mile. They have the smelling sense of bears," he laughed.

"You mean the Fates?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Ya. Sorry for the language," he apologised. "I mean I don't generally have anything against women, but these three follow my scent just anywhere and everywhere. I bet you've seen how they're a pain in the ass, just because they're superior to me. Shitty bosses, shitty eternity."

I could sense the frustration in his voice. It somehow made him appear more human. Also, it made me feel good. If someone as high and mighty as Death could be frustrated, we the puny mortals have every right to be.

"They don't know me. Maybe disguise me as something and I would go to their office or whatsoever that is, roam around, gather information," I offered.

"I still have some chivalry left in me, so no, I can't exactly leave you alone, and push you into the jaws of the Fates." He scratched his chin.

"I want to do this willingly. It's kind of my need too, as much as it is yours," I argued.

He looked at me for a moment, as if trying to gauge the depth of my trustworthiness, and my determination to jump into danger.

"You do know the punishment for getting caught for corruption or crime down here, right?" he asked, his lips curling slightly.

I kept quiet. I hadn't thought about a penalty to be paid.

"You'd be left in the Fields of Sorrow for eternity, stumbling alone. That is the least bad fate around here," his voice was chilly. "They'll catch you and try you. Obviously along with me since I'm involved too. And then they might leave us to boil forever in the pits of Hell, or Yamlok as is penned in the mythology that you all wrote."

I pondered for a moment. Having accompanied Death to the underworld without a second thought, I was surely up for a challenge. There was nothing left above the ground for me. There was no point in going back. I had to keep moving forward, or down, whatever it was.

"I don't mind," I breathed.

"Foolhardy," he mumbled. "I can mask you as a nature-spirit, Dryads or Yakshinis, whatever you call them in your language."

"This is actually confusing," I said slowly. "Sometimes you say Fates, which have been mentioned in Greek mythology. Again you say Yamlok, which is Indian. You mention Dryads, which are Greek or sometimes Roman. And later you say Yakshinis, which come to Indian legends again."

He was staring at me, unblinking, all the while that I spoke. After I stopped, there was silence for a few seconds. Finally, he opened his lips, "How many Hells do you think exists?"

The question took me aback.

"One?" I asked.

"Heavens?"

"Mmm...One."

"Lord of the Underworld?"

"Okay, One," I admitted.

"In that case, I don't understand your query. Everything in this creation, in this universe, is one single entity. It has numerous names and various forms according to how varied civilisations perceived and experienced it over time. The Egyptians, the Greeks, Romans, Aryans or the Dravidians, the natives and the conquerors, the rulers and the subjects..."

I listened transfixed.

"They prayed to the supreme, preached diverse religions and hated the same old Death." He pointed to himself. "Just that the names were different, the forms were diverse, the addresses and the scripts, the languages...Yama, Hades, Pluto, Thanatos, Osiris, Anubis — so many names, forms, personification. The power is the same."

"The Lord of the Underworld," I breathed. I had always believed in unity, the oneness of the souls and beliefs. But somehow hearing it for someone as eternal as Death, reinforced the ideas already bubbling inside of me.

"Yes. I'll appear to you how you perceive me. If you were somewhere else right now, you might have seen another form of me, not the Mrithun one!"

I kept quiet. The concept was confusing.

"So will you really go in there?" he asked again.

"I will, but under what pretext?"

"You'll be the messenger from Kuber," he mused, getting up and pacing around the room. "The Fates have a good bonding with him. All internal politics."

"The Lord of Wealth?" I was surprised.

"Don't you wonder where their celestial dresses dripping in gold come from?" he chuckled. "I weave my threads from the night. They order custom made stuff from the House of Kuber."

"So, Kuber has a high-end store?"

Everything was seeming impossible over time. It was so modern and yet so primitive. It's like they were trying to modernise their external appearances and habits while keeping their thoughts stuck in the mediaeval eras.

"House of Kuber is what you humans call a brand." He waved his hands dismissively. "It's kind of side hobby for Kuber, besides being oiled and buttered daily by all the mortals for wealth."

"Are you by any chance jealous of his popularity?" I bit my lips, trying hard not to smile.

Mrithun stopped his pacing. For a brief second, I was afraid I had said something wrong. Angering Death wasn't in my bucket list of things to do in the underworld.

"No, I'm more handsome than him. Lots of mortal ladies fawn over me." He smirked.

"Really?"

"I don't know. The people calling upon Death had somehow increased in this century and a greater part of them is you womenfolk." His eyes shone with genuine concern. His face had taken on that sombre look again. The burden of eternity was indeed a tough one to bear.

"Times are hard. Humanity is declining every day. People think of Death as an escape route from all the sufferings," I sighed, shaking my head. I said no more.

Even he didn't offer one of his philosophical theories. He was giving me space, space to straighten out my thoughts and my ideas.

The silence deepened, but it wasn't awkward. Rather, I somehow enjoyed basking in the shadow of Death. There was a weird feeling of comfort, which I had never felt with any guy in the mortal world.

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What do you think will happen next? And also, why is Tora really helping him? Is there still an ulterior motive?

Mythology References

Yakshini - Yakshinis are a class of nature spirits in Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain religious mythologies. Yakshinis and their male counterparts, the yakshas, are one of the many paranormal beings associated with the centuries-old sacred groves of India.The well behaved and benign ones are worshipped as tutelaries and they are the attendees of Kuber, the treasurer of the gods.