Prologue
Hello! I apologize if the translation is bad! I am an american writer heavily influenced by Japanese manga, light novels, and anime. I made this account to see if there was any interest across the water for this story I've been working on. I hope you enjoy!
The sun comes to its highest point in the sky, the heat of the day long having reached a sweltering point. Too big to be considered a village, but too small to be considered a town, Taldou was living through its darkest day, despite the cloudless sky.
A lone, dark figure left no footprints as he walked the streets, the sun's heat baking blood brown into the dirt beneath. The sounds of gunfire, explosions, and cries of anguish could be heard as he made his way to an indistinct tan house. The sights and sounds he bore witness too had no effect on him, the plights and conflicts of humanity having long kept him busy since the dawn of their civilisation. All too often he found himself in places like this, having grown long accustomed to the very worst people had to offer. Despite this, he did not hate having to tirelessly do his duty, as this was his purpose, and while he often saw people at their lowest, he more often than not saw them at their best. He did not judge the follies of man; that wasn't his place. His only concern was ensuring passage from this life to the next, leaving the task of judgement to other beings.
He went by many names, most having been long forgotten: Charon, Azrael, Anubis, Yama, Xolotl. Every human culture dealt with him, personifying him in various ways, and usually he accommodated, taking on a form comfortable to those he interacts with. Sometimes it was a hooded figure with a scythe; other times he held a lasso or a sword.
As he entered the ruined house and made his way to the hidden underground shelter, his form took on that of a man, olive skinned like those who lived here, but exceptionally beautiful. The people believed that they would see him as he was now had their lives been just, or a monster if unjust. Rarely did he take on the latter, as, yet again, it wasn't his place to judge the deeds of man.
He stood before a still pile of robes as the woman within drew her last breath. He reached to her hand and gently pulled on her spirit.
"I was afraid I would see you today," she said, the faint trace of a sorrowful smile on her lips.
"It is time," he replied. "Your suffering, your worldly struggles are at an end."
Despite his words, her expression remained unchanged. It was unsurprising, as she was still quite young for a human, no doubt she felt like she still had a life to live, or responsibilities to attend to. "That may be true, but I feel remiss to leave him." With that she looked back to her body, sorrow in her eyes, at the smaller bundle nestled within its dead mother's arms.
As Death regarded the infant boy, he saw several potential reasons for his quick return. In two days he would starve to death. In less time, the soldiers would return, find him, and murder him, or take him and raise him in their beliefs, and he would die a soldier's death before he came of age. This was his other power, to see people's potential ends.
"I wish for him to have a good life, a better life than what lies ahead without me."
"It would be the only life he knows. No matter what, he wouldn't know what he missed."
"You would call that a good life? Suffering, starvation, and pain?"
"I never said it would be a good one, simply the only one he'd know, until I reunite you two again."
"Would that something could be done. His father died fighting them, and my family hid me down here before they came and took them away."
"Is there something you wish of me?" Death asked, not growing impatient, keeping his tone soft and consoling. The inevitable has all the time in the world, after all.
"I would not ask Azrael to take my son before his time, to remove his only chance at life."
"You misunderstand. You are not the first parent I've taken from their young child, and you certainly won't be the last. There is a place I can take him, but I assure you his life will be far from what a human would call normal."
"Would it be better than what lies ahead if we leave him here?"
"Objectively, yes."
That was all she needed to hear, it seemed. "Then I put my trust in you," she said, reaching out her hand once more.
"Very well, once our business is through, I will return for the child, and raise him as my own. When the time comes, he will choose what path to take, and when his life is through, I will return him to you."
The sun had began to set when Death returned for the boy, whose cheeks were now caked with dirt and dried tears as he cried out in hunger for his mother. With gentle hands the dark figure picked up the boy, who only now saw the one who would look after him, and his cries softened. Death now saw a new potential end start to take shape, splitting into a thousand facets, with so many choices and circumstances ahead each having equal chance of taking hold. It would please his mother to know that those ends no longer included dying of starvation or at the knife as an infant, or even a young soldier in the conflicts of man. Indeed, his life would be better in her eyes, despite the unique hardships that lie ahead. He would have many brothers and sisters, and among them, many friends. It was then that he realized that his mother hadn't told him he boy's name. He decided to go with an Arabic name that was a similar to his own, and that also meant "helper," or "strength."
"Come, Uzair. Your new life begins."
