Amator ad Mors
Life. A blessing that allows for peace and prosperity for all to be happy. She is taken as a light that most all chase for and desperately want to keep her in their grasps, to prosper and enjoy her gift. Fate. The inevitable sequence of events. People look to them as the clairvoyant and omniscient viewer of all. Most accept and live with the call of fate. Death. A master known as a harbinger of misery and devastation. He is who takes away the blessing of Life faster than the blink of an eye. If only mortals weren’t so foolish. Foolish to not see the agony wrought by Life. The cruelty in Fate’s design. And the peace offered by Death. Reincarnation is a topic not held to the highest of standards, but the harsh reality of it all is that its more true than all the stars in the sky. Fate and Life are the harsh reality of your mortal world and lives. Fate gives you a destiny be it cruel or worthy of admiration, doomed to forever live life, after life, until that destiny if fulfilled. Life, she is the one to place you and rekindle the misery of living. Death is gentle. He roams around day after day collecting the souls from the cold bodies of his siblings victims. He pays no mind to the fear of the souls and scoops them up to carry those who have fulfilled their destiny to their chosen afterlife and regretfully return those who have not to his sister. It’s a never ending cycle of Life, Fate, and Death. Death looks around at your mortal world, not in pity but with empathy; for he also knows the woe of repeating over and over again. Death only has two pleasures in his eternity. When he is away from your Mortal dwelling he enjoys speaking with the souls in limbo who are awaiting rebirth; and Deaths only selfish act. A human just like yourself, we’ll at least he used to be. Death found himself keen on this one human he saw one day while collecting souls. The boy looked to be sixteen and he had just lost his parents whom Death was there to collect. Their roles having been fulfilled made Death in a better mood. Death thought the boy was acting peculiar for a normal human. He didn’t cry at the funeral nor after when he was alone. When Death was able he followed and checked up on the boy. He didn’t know why but he did. The boy almost seemed to know Death was following him but he wasn’t scared. They would lock eyes before he smiled and carried on, a silent conversation with Death. The more and more they met the more Death grew attached. Soon Death would show himself so they could speak with words. This happened more often as time went on. Death had to stop his visits due to a plague that his sibling Fate had wrought down on the humans. They weaved their strings together on a destructive path that swamped Death with collecting. Every once and a while Death would see the human at funerals or just in passing. It saddened him for some reason unknown to him, as feelings were a language that Death didn’t know. Death thought about the time of humans a realized the boy would be twenty now. For Death this was like the blink of a eye in the endlessness. The next time Death saw the boy he was there to collect the boys soul but Death was caught by surprise. He saw the body of the boy hanging there. Void of expression and warmth, he felt sad. It was not something he had ever experienced before. Even more surprising was the souls of the boy taking form of a human and not a normal orb. Death heard the ringing in his ears of his siblings and he knew in an instant what this meant. Life and Fate had give Death a gift. They noticed how their brother felt about this random human at a random time and decided that if Death would accept this boy as his, Death could finally have the companion he deserved. Death embraced him. For the first time ever tears ran down the cheeks of the grim reapers face. They stayed like that for who knows how long before Death let go. Together they made their way to Deaths realm, it was usually gloomy and dark but to with his one right beside him it felt like anything but. He felt happy. Finally together they enjoyed their time talking and laughing. They would spend their nights tangled together never getting tired of the other. Now Death and I walk together. Even as he collects the souls of those who have passed we roam hand in hand. We don’t need to share words as we know how the other is feeling. If we do speak it’s sweet nothings that promise our eternal love.