Death's Child

Prologue

The universe is a beautiful but horrible thing. Prone to move at the slightest shift, but somehow able to balance it out. A deer dies and a rabbit takes its place. In one universe, magic is void and empty, in another, teeming and where magic is as there as the air.
But there was one thing the universe was not expecting. No world, universe, galaxy or parallel would ever be ready.
And that would be the existence of Destoph.
Death herself was walking the woods at night after a fierce battle that took out all of the Gentoph people. A kind race so completely unselfish their words I, me, my, and myself were not located in their language.
Spirits floated over the dead bodies and as Death walked they started following her softly and quietly.
The step’s Death took were soft but sure, her bare feet grazing the floor as her dress trailed behind her.
It was an eerie sight to see, a black shadow in front of a deep blue night making its way through dead trees and the slivery spirits being pulled from the sky to follow behind her.
From a distance she sensed movement. Making her way over Death stumbled upon a Gentoph woman.
Her clothes were torn and bloody, the hair was lopsided as if a chunk had been cut off. The woman was dying.
Weeping quietly, she held something close to herself. When she realized she was not alone she looked up.
Tales of Death came to her, realizing she had one final option she extended the bundle to Death and begged in her language to “Please save baby,”
At first Death refused. For it was against laws. Life and Death were to work together.
Instead Death went to invite the baby’s spirit to join and wait a minute for the woman’s wounds to take her too so they could be together. But there was no baby spirit.
Death asked the question, “Still born?”
The woman nodded using whatever strength she had left to lift herself higher up the tree.
“Life has not touched this baby.” Death commented.
Once more the woman extended the bundle, “Please Death,” she begged one final time.
It was an unselfish request. A final request. Something that Death was bound to obey.
“It is risky. There has never been a creature that has only been touched by Death.” she warned.
The women's strength failed her and she slipped down the tree, arms quivering as the tears continued to fall. There would be no happiness or hope in death if the mother knew her baby could never taste existence.
Reaching her arms out Death took the child.
And that’s when everything rebelled. The baby changed and became something that shouldn’t exist. Something neither dead or alive. One of a kind. His name: Destoph.
With no place to belong Death took the thing back to her kingdom and raised him as her own.