The Ancient Elder

Here He Walks

It had been so long since his battered and broken feet had known rest, days flew by as a mere moment for him for he took no notice of the passage of time as the primordial force no longer took interest in him. The ferocious wind that had engulfed him for days had not relented even for a moment as he travelled as if it had a personal vendetta against the man that walked before it. He took no notice of the bite that it brought or the force it carried, it would not kill him. It never could no matter how strong it was or how cold its chill became. Even if he had stripped himself bare and stood there for a hundred years he would still be there. He always will be. That was his curse, to walk the earth for eternity, to never die until his sins were forgiven by those that deemed his trials satisfactory as a punishment. He had been stripped of everything that he was because of it. He was no one. A man that was forbidden even the most simplest of pleasures.

It had been so long since he had even heard his name, even longer since he had even spoken to a soul. His name was all that kept his sanity, the last barrier against madness. He would repeat it to himself so he would not forget, the name that he was given by his mother. The name that many would come to fear should they see him again. It was a simple name, nothing fancy like the lords and other nobles of the world. A simple name he would chant like a mantra.

"Thanatos"

He was given this name for even at birth he had pure black hair, a sharp nose and well structured face. Dark skin and eyes that seemed to know all your sins with nothing more than a glance at you. His body was large even as a child, but his stature now would make it seem as if he was a descendent of giants. He easily hit the seven foot mark, his body built as if to carry the world itself. Well toned muscle that was built over years of gruelling labour as he travelled this world. He was the literal form of what the ancient Greek god of death would have looked like had he been a physical being upon this earth.

But Thanatos cared nothing for his appearance or the reason he was given his name. Nothing mattered to him anymore except the day he was allowed to die and be at peace.

But it was a fools wish, a dream he knew all to well wouldnt come true. He was a bastard son, born into a world on fire. Lands besieged by war and famine. People both Human and Inhuman a like, slaughtered simply for being who and what they were. He was no exception, he wasnt human himself. A cross breed between Lycan and God. The most sacrilegious of beings in existence. Yet he was not hunted because of it, those that forced him upon this journey were afraid of him. A being with the strength of a god and the abilities of both lycan and Divine. How could they not be? They couldnt kill a god much less something that was more than that.

Yet he was punished for being born, his mother killed for her blasphemy and father gone for he did not want this creature to be known as his son. Thanatos cared little anymore, about what he was or that people feared him. He was a burden upon this world, a crime not even the gods could judge. But Thanatos had his own burden to carry, the task he was given before he was forced to walk the earth. The task his mother had given him moments after he was born, he remembers her voice even to this day even though he was just a babe. Her voice low, barely a whisper to him she spoke these words unto him "change this world for the better, even it means bringing it down first". The task he shall carry out, even if it takes him all eternity. He will do it. For they had taken everything from him but his name and task. So he will do the same so this world can start again.