Death

                                      (It is advised to read with this music)

A God of death is not the deity everyone imagines. Rather, he would be like a slave glorified by ants, who cannot comprehend the depth of the enchainment that Death must go through. And contrary to what many think, death is not born, but made.

Every few millennia, a new grim reaper is chosen, based on different qualities: apathy for the living, thirst for power, sense of duty, weakness of spirit and, in general, qualities you would look for in a hopeless slave who still clings to life. Who chooses the Death of our world, is none other than the former Death, always watched over by a Higher force, which not even the reaper himself can reach or understand.

The former reaper was already tired of living so long, for his conscience, ego and fear were still there, no matter how much apathy he might feel towards everything. The madness he suffered from continued to cause him an indescribable torment, forgetting his loved ones and forgetting one life after another and never being able to share with anyone that eternal loneliness, he only wanted to die.

He knew he still had offspring in human life, for he was once a mortal like everyone else and after a millennia, an heir with potential was born, recognized by his runic birthmark. Finally, impatient, but elated as he had not been in decades, perhaps centuries, Death set about scheming the threads of fate so that he could leave his successor and, thus rest in peace at last.

Disguised as a distant uncle, he approached the boy, abandoned and left to his fate by his mark and offered him control over Necromancy and the arcane arts and, with that, he would never be alone again nor would he ever have to suffer the agonies of human life.

After decades, the boy-now-man had accepted his power as part of the natural cycle of life. Marrying and living a fulfilling life as a famous wandering doctor.

He did not manipulate death at will or use it for petty or foolish things. The only time being, when he revived his lifelong beloved, saving her from old age. Unwilling to bring her back as a rotting corpse, he researched and studied to develop new skills and ways to use his powers. Until, at last, after a countless amount of effort he managed to keep her spirit intact, as a physical soul, in a perfect limbo for one who is to live an eternal life.

They were a happy couple without complications or fears, somewhat strange, but charming and full of love, spending centuries happily and with absolute prosperity.

Seeing that his apprentice's powers increased to the level beyond any mortal, Death began to put his plan into action. Watching the strong bond between the lovers, he almost felt sorry and perhaps a little jealous, but it was too late, Death cannot use his powers for his own whim and benefit, otherwise he would be condemned to an existence more miserable than any other fate, it chilled his whole being to think of it, the terror of the punishment that would await him if he did anything wrong was one of the few emotions that had not numbed from his being.

Nothing else mattered but to obtain his eternal rest.

Death decided to use all his remaining power to imprison the soul of his apprentice's wife in a state of eternal sleep when he was not there to protect her.

His now former disciple, left in mournful crying, incredulous of the betrayal, could only watch his former master and family as he transformed into a horrifying being, cold and nauseating to human sight.

With bloodshot eyes and flooded with tears, seeing the soul of his beloved in an eternal rest, the apprentice, now master, without hesitation accepted. There were no more options and at that moment, amidst a burst of weeping, laughter and euphoria, the old Death was blown to dust in the wind, leaving the newly named Death with no chance of revenge.

Thus, the new grim reaper, for millennia, continued to collect souls. Forgetting what his face, physical form and personality looked like, his own subconscious recreated his body as an unrecognizable and monstrous figure of his former self. He could only remember two things: the rules he had to follow and his wife. Thus, in his chambers he always stood by a cold blue flame, the soul of his beloved, with the vague illusion of one day breaking that curse. No longer to live happily with her; he had accepted his fate, now his only wish was to be able to obtain eternal rest together.

And in the full darkness of that strange place, caressing that flame he whispered:

"I would trade all the souls of this world just so that yours could beat again, my beloved Dorothea."

Thus, without the slightest concern for creatures extinct, present and nascent, there is a God lamenting for a mortal, patiently waiting for a successor.

This is how grim reapers are born, out of betrayal, pain, madness, love and despair, but at the same time clinging to their existence anxiously with the small chance that everything will get better at some point, ironically making Death one of the most human things in life.