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Doctor of Dying

Snow fairies flitted to the ground, balancing delicately on the rough concrete. Dust scrambled underneath the feet of a thousand snowflakes. Fear ran swiftly through the crowds. Snow meant winter. Winter meant death. The beauty of the season was dimmed significantly by the threats it brought. Cold would infect the hearts of the kind tonight, no one could spare a single pleasant gesture. 

Thousands would die in less than three months. Most of those deaths would be of the Runed. One Runed guard wouldn't be missed; counted as yet another soul taken by the malicious winter. My plan was running smoothly as I approached the first set of guards. 

A spear was pointed at me, it's sharpened tip aimed perfectly at my heart yet an obvious shaking of his hands alerted me of the chill clinging to his brain. Shadows fell over his face as lizards began moving in the sky. Soft scales slid over the bright blanket in the sky. The snow fall accelerated and white covered the world in a light dusting of sugar. 

"Your guard over there is sick. Let me help him." I rested a hand gently on the shaft of the silver spear while using my other hand to indicate to the sick man, my target. Time was ticking and the target was weakening before my eyes. 

"How can I trust you?" Suspicion rolled of his stiff shoulders but even with the meticulous training the royal guards went through, the man had a chink in his armor. His mind was broken and wide open for my attacks. All I had to do was reach in and take a hold of his mind.

"You can't." The man was taken aback, his composure evaporating for a second. "I am training as a doctor. Let me look at him, please." I fluttered my lashes and put on a sympathetic face. Holding influence over the  guard I implored him to believe me. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

Hurry...

"Alright men, let her past!" Once the command had been issued, I let go. The evidence of me being in control didn't exist, and stage one was marked off of my list. 

The silence was deafening as I hurried to my target. A narrow tunnel became my vision, the rest of the world blurring. Strings lifted my mind from this realm as my body continued forward. The ground crumbled like pastry, I fell down the empty gateway into the other realm. Claws squeezed my limbs, tearing out the brightness within me. Frost gathered on my eyelashes as a hopeless connection to reality. 

Grim was waiting behind the man, knife in hand. A look of boredom stuck to his face as he twirled the dagger in his fingers. I hurried my walking, the target watching my every move with hope in his eyes. The bright twinkle of hope. If only he didn't have darkness in his heart. If only he didn't to die. If only he didn't have a reaper behind him. A reaper with a knife.

Thoughts were teeming in my mind as I stood before the client. Hazel eyes sparkled and a crescent smile peaked out from his helmet. I grasped his face between my hands and tilted his head to the left. It didn't take a doctor to know that this man was dying. His veins glowed with the desertion of his magic. 

"Hey! We need to get this man to-" The full weight of an adult male clad in armor crushed my body as we fell to the ground together. Surrounding guards rushed to my aid, informed of the turn of events by the clatter of armor. Soft footsteps rushed towards me, moments before I felt the hands on my forearms. 

"C'mon, girly, I gotcha."