When We Were Young

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y

July 31st, 1944

Harry splashed his face with cold water, rubbing the sleep out if his eyes and running his fingers through his hair to have it lay down.

"Happy Birthday, Master."

Harry gasped and turned around, his eyes wide in relief, surprise, and anger. He then lounged at Death and pulled the icy entity into a clinging bear hug, rubbing his face into Death's shaggy robes.

"I've been so worried about you! You haven't visited me since last August- 11 months ago! Almost a full year! Not to mention that Raven disappeared in September! Are you okay? Did something happen? Are the other gods giving you trouble? Did-"

Death let out a dry chuckle, his bone fingers softly carrassing a few of Harry's curls. "Relax, Master. I'm alright. The war has been making me painfully busy, so much that Raven had to come help me deliver some souls to the other side of the veil. I apologize for causing you to worry, and for taking Raven for such a long time. But, I do reckon that we have a lot to talk about?"

Harry nodded and reluctantly withdrew himself from Death, keeping his eyes on him as if the entity would disappear.

"All throughout the year, I've been building up questions to ask you, but you never showed up. Even if the war has been making you busier, you've never went away for so long. What's the real reason why you stayed away? The war has been going on for far more than a year, so your reasoning is invalid."

Death sighed. "I should have known better. Nothing gets past you, Master. . . While I have been busier than normal, I wanted you to grow without my influence. You will face many personal challenges that I cannot help you with. It is the natural order of life. There will be conflicts and problems that you must overcome, and I am not allowed to interfere in mortal affairs in such an influential way that someone's fate changes, my Master or not. I did not want for you to become dependent on me, because I can't always be by your side. I'm sorry, Master."

"You don't have to apologise for that," Harry said softly, lacing his hands together in front of him. "You do what you can to help me, and I'm greatful. Don't apologize."

Death's grip of his scythe loosened. "Alright, Master. What are your other questions?"

Harry paused, wondering which question he should ask first, before clearing his throat. "You once told me that the other side of the veil appeared as the soul expected for it to look like. Is it the same thing for gods?"

Death contemplated his answer. "Yes and no. Each pathologist and religious person expects for their god or gods to look like something, but it is up to that god if they want to follow those expectations. The Greeks expect for me to have flesh, but I don't want to have a meat-bag. The Egyptians expect for me to have a dog head, but it gets annoying staying in that form. I choose to stay in this skeletal form, and yet, when you look at me, do you doubt that I am Death?"

Harry shook his head in response.

"My counterpart, Life, usually follows the human expectations. When you think of Life, Harry, what form to you imagine them in?"

"A mother figure. Not too old, not to young," Harry replied, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"And that's normally how Life chooses to appear. She has taken on the female form ever since she has been conscious. What's your next question?"