Hollow Immortal

Acceptance

Dmitri set the glass down a little harder than he probably should have, causing the ice to clink against the sides of the glass.

"Right," he said, "so what's the problem?"

Alastair put the book down and reached for the glass. He took a sip and shut his eyes, clearly pleased by the dark amber contents of one of his father's crystal whiskey glasses.

"That is lovely," he said.

Dmitri nodded, remembering the few times he'd decided that just one bottle of it wasn't enough, "It is. Now what's the problem?"

"This book," he said, "it's an indication that bad things are coming."

Dmitri rolled his eyes, "Most things written by Caine are."

Alastair shook his head, "No, this isn't like anything you've seen before. This is going to be bad."

Dmitri frowned, "Going to be bad? What is?"

"The hell he's going to raise," Alastair answered, "Death has risen, physically this time."

Dmitri blinked. That phrase, Death has risen. It suddenly dawned on him that when Caine had been talking about being Death, he hadn't been making use of dramatic metaphors as he'd originally assumed. He'd actually been telling them that he was Death.

"You mean..." Dmitri was having a hard time trying to process it, "you mean Death, the rider of the pale horse?"

Alastair nodded, "The very same."

"But that's impossible," Dmitri tried to reason, "in order for him to be Death, he'd have to be everywhere at once. People die all the time, on opposite sides of the world, at the same time."

Alastair arched a brow, "Yes, what's your point?"

"Caine was always here, or... or there," he said, not referring to any particular place, "in one place at a time. If he were really Death he'd have to be everywhere at once to collect souls or whatever he's supposed to do."

"Why do you think he was losing his mind?" Alastair asked, "Every time someone died a piece of him would go and collect."

"How is that possible?" Dmitri asked.

Alastair held the book up, open on the first page, and pointed to the detailed sketch of the Maragi crest on it. His finger rested on the raven's back.

"The ravens," he said, "there is a reason they are linked to death and darkness. He's transferred pieces of himself into ravens."

Evelyn, who had been silent up until this point, spoke, "So, what? Are we talking the end of the world here?"

Alastair looked at his daughter and Dmitri took the opportunity to look at them both. Evelyn was a lot like him, they had similar postures and face shapes. Even the way their hands rested on the desk was so similar and all of that came from Caine.

Alastair shrugged, "I have no idea. It could well be but, as usual, your grandfather is trying to find a way to twist things in his favour."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"He doesn't want to go to Hell, Evelyn, who would?" Alastair answered, "That's the only reason I'm here. That's why he sought you out, I suppose."

Evelyn's other eyebrow joined the raised one, "Beg pardon?"

"The living death," Alastair said, "I'm guessing that's what he told you, is what I mean. A creature born of life and death. One living immortal and one dead. He'd prime the creature to resurrect the dead, even through the apocalypse, in order to prevent the apocalypse."