Afterglow

Death of the Undying

Everything became sand in the hourglass eventually, disintegrating flesh and bone, seconds ticking away. Another year. Another month. Another day. Another second. Another moment. Passing and impossible to stop. Time is unbending. The clock doesn't turn back.

Death was dying. It was as plain as that. Mortis, the titan god of death and time, knew that the end came for all, even gods, even him. Of course, not all ends were equal. Some ends didn't even look like ends, they just looked like new beginnings. That was one of the universe's beauties that he treasured.

Mortis was meant for the first few millennia. Someone to keep the other major gods in line as the pantheon filled out and power struggles settled. Life, Vita, was being reborn and reincarnated constantly, but everyone knew not to meddle with their wild, untamed power.

Mortis was equally powerful and intimidating, but in a different way. He didn't let the rest of the pantheon see the major and minor gods that had died in the struggle and the tumult as the roles of authority were established. They just... vanished, and he looked at them all pointedly, looming from his dark corner of the room, a dark reminder of what could always, always be. Nothing was truly undying.

Mortis hadn't been born to last forever, he had known this from the moment he had appeared on that empty, starlit beach and took his first steps across the black sand. His destiny was stamped into the inside of his eyes, he had always known. He was fortunate like that. He knew to cherish things while he could, to exist to his fullest. He had always known he was temporary, that his time was limited. For mortals, it was an eternity. For gods, it was practically dying young. His successor would last until the end of the universe, whoever it may be. He had seen the beginning, but they would see the bitter end.

But... the universe had made it clear to him that one being, even a god, wasn't meant to wield such power. There was a reason life was reincarnated every half thousand years. Mortis was here until the dust of creation settled, and a little afterwards. Now, time was up. Mortis had his end looming over his shoulder his whole tenure.

Honestly, he welcomed it. He knew he would return to the deep black of the mother darkness he had been cut from like cloth. Mortis would finally rest.

The major god spent the morning wandering his palace one last time. It was made of black and grey stone, on a rocky island in a hidden corner of the world where the sun rose so very rarely. He built his palace on the black sanded beaches on which he had been born. The ocean was beautiful here, the sunsets even more so. The castle was a quiet, somber place. It was empty, but the dark furniture and gothic architecture made it so that it didn't feel quite as lonely as it was.

Mortis pushed the huge double doors open and strode into a grand ballroom that had never seen a single party. His long feathered coat of burnished gold and orange and silver dust swept across the intricately decorated floor. This castle had stood for as long as he had. He wondered if it would still stand after he was gone.

Stopping in the middle of the room, he folded his arms behind his back and looked at the balcony across the room with a thousand yard stare. Through it he could see the millions and millions of stars above, the shades of blue that were the night sky, the soft glow of sunrise beginning to kiss the horizon.

There was a ripple, like a movement in the fabric of the universe, and a part of the night sky pulled away. A hand pale like moonlight was revealed from the robes of night, and the hood was pulled away to reveal the silvery owl-mask of Lady Fate. There was only one other god that knew Mortis had a limited time.

She glided across the floor like a ghost, and when she reached him they joined hands. "It really is true, isn't it?" she whispered, her brow knitting with a stitch of desperation.