Death's Apprentice | Tristan's Tale

I

"Everything is on schedule, sir. I'm happy to report that all souls have been sorted today. There was a nasty criminal who tried to get past the gates, but we got him. One child visited for a few minutes. Her mother called her back, so she had to leave," Saul flipped through his files, "I think that's all for today, sir."

Saul closed his files and coughed awkwardly.

"Thank you, Saul. I think I'm done for today. All my evening tasks will be handled by my night staff," Death smiled at his secretary.

Death adjusted the glasses that rested on his nose and peered back at his book.

"Alright. Good evening, sir," Saul replied and turned to leave out the door.

Death watched his secretary pull the door open.

He stopped him saying, "Wait, Saul. When you leave tell my apprentice I would like to see him."

Death looked at Saul over his glasses. Saul smiled and nodded. He closed the door behind him, and Death was alone.

Many minutes went by before Death heard a knock at his office door.

"Come in, Tristan," he announced loud enough for the boy on the other side of the door to hear. Tristan poked his head around the door to find Death sitting behind his desk.

Tristan liked Death's office. It wasn't as dark as one would assume. In fact, it was warm and inviting. The walls were covered in books. Lit candles dotted the room. Death sat behind his large wooden desk and his scythe rested above the fireplace mantle.

Death stood up. He dusted off his robes and began to select books from his many shelves. Tristan followed him. Death was not a man of many words, so Tristan knew that it was best to follow him in his actions. Tristan put his arms out and Death began to stack books in them.

"Tristan," Death began, "I've decided it's time for you to learn more of the trade. We will take a trip in a few weeks to do just that. In the meantime, I want you to prepare." Death gestured to books in Tristan's arms. Tristan looked at them. They were medical books.

"Sir, what would I need medical books for?"

"Where we are going you will need this information. Study these books,"

"Where are we going?" Tristan knew they did not need medical expertise in Death's realm.

"We are going to the world. We will become like humans,"

"We are going to the mortal world. Will we be mortal?"

Death chuckled, "No, we won't be mortal, but we need to be among mortals. For you to assume more responsibility in this profession, you will need to learn more about mortals,"

"I see," Tristan considered this, "Am I reading these books to learn how mortals can die?"

"You will need the books because we will need to disguise ourselves in the mortal world. I already have everything planned for us. We will go as medical professionals, so please do your due diligence with the reading."

Death looked at his apprentice sternly over his glasses.

Tristan nodded at his master. He knew medical professionals were respected in the mortal world, and dying people usually asked for their help.

Death placed the last book in Tristan's arms. Tristan could hardly see over the stack and his arms began to shake under their weight.

"Those are all the books. Please read them. We will leave in a few weeks when I have the final arrangements for our trip finished," Death ended. He waved his hand. Tristan nodded at Death and left his office with his assignment.

The weeks leading up to the trip passed quickly. Tristan felt his mind would compress with all the medical knowledge he had stuffed in it.

Death had called him back to his office. Tristan had packed a few things for the trip, but he still wasn't sure where they were going. He assumed Death would provide him with anything he needed. Tristan pulled the books and his tiny suitcase with him to Death's office and knocked on the door.

The old master opened the door and grabbed the books from Tristan. His arms did not shake under their weight like Tristan's did. The apprentice walked into the office. Death's bags were packed, and his desk looked orderly for once. He was a busy individual, and his desk was never clean.

Death organized his belongings for travel and placed Tristan's suitcase on top of his. He pulled on the apprentice's arm swiftly.

"Are you ready? Where we are going you cannot reveal who you are. Either mortals won't believe you or you will scare them. You will assume the identity of Tristan, my apprentice."

Tristan made a face.

"But I will not be Death," the master continued, "I will be Dr. Mortimer, a physician working in the countryside."

Tristan nodded, his eyes large. Death grabbed the apprentice's hand whispering something under his breath. Tristan felt a pull in his legs. It felt as though his body was being stretched and pulled.