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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2251140-The-God-of-Death---Part-1
Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #2251140
A man meets the God of Death, and embarks upon a journey of remembrance.
The God's tune

I stood before a white wooden door.

How I'd gotten where I was had slipped my mind, but that didn't matter. All I could think about was the door in front of me. It pulled me in like the Sun calling you outside on a summer morning. I reached out my hand and pulled down on the handle, finding it as light as a feather, and pushed.

A fiery sting pierced my eyes as the light reflected off the shining marble, burning my skin. The searing brightness enveloped me, and I cried out. I closed my eyes shut, finding only temporary relief in the tenebrous safety of my eyelids. As I slowly opened my eyes again, it seemed my eyes had adapted to the luminous environment which had only moments earlier turned them red as blood. Dazed as I was, missing the figure sitting in the chair was practically unavoidable, and as I returned to my senses, I could finally make out what had been in front of me all along.

Upon a chair of gold sat a young man, wearing a tunic from which the gems reflected a vibrant green. His silver boots and gloves complemented his pale complexion and blonde hair like wine fills a glass. As he looked up at me, his bright blue eyes locked with my gaze, and I felt myself tense up before this stranger.

Who was he? – I thought to myself, inspecting him from afar. He seemed so out of place, yet right where he belonged.

And somehow, I felt I belonged here as well.

In his hands, he held a golden book which he had closed once he noticed me. I tried to speak, ask him who he was, but...he smiled. He smiled at me and whatever I'd intended to say slipped my mind.

"Hello there. I know you're wondering what's going on. I know it’s all confusing right now, but you’ll understand soon." – the young man started speaking.

"Well, sorry, I haven't even introduced myself. You might know me as the God of Death" - he paused - "I'm not very fond of that name. I find it too cliché, so my friends just call me Dream. After all, dreaming is sort of like dying, right?" – he paused as if he were awaiting my response, which never came – "Well, we're friends now, so you can call me Dream."

I stood there dumbfounded as the man continued to speak. He was...the God of Death, but also a friend? Was I dead? A thousand questions raced through my mind, but none of my thoughts made sense, so I listened on. I had probably never seen this young man before, yet there was something familiar him, and deep in my soul, I felt an inconspicuous sense of calm.

"No matter, call me whatever you like, it doesn't make a difference." – The man continued – "This story is not about me anyway...so, tell me then - who are you?"

I was taken aback by his question. Why would he ask such a pointless question? He already knew who I was, he had to have known. After all, if he was a god, he had to have all the answers already. What was the point of asking me if he already knew? Nonetheless, I didn't want to antagonize this mighty being so I decided to indulge his question.

"I am...I am..." – blank, as if my throat had closed up, and no sound could escape its depth. Who am I? I couldn't remember anything about myself and as realization dawned on my face, he could see it clear as day.

"You don't know" – he looked at me with an indiscernible emotion on his face – pity, envy, disappointment – "Well, you'll remember eventually. After all, you mortals always do, it wouldn't be right of me to send you on otherwise."

I didn't understand what he was saying, but still a feeling of calm overcame my soul. I had always imagined the entity representing something as brutal and as death to be cruel and unforgiving, to take humans away to the abyss forever with indifference.

Yet before me sat he, whom others called the God of Death, kind and forgiving.

"Well, I believe it's time for you to go on. The story must be finished after all, right? It would be cruel to leave it without a proper ending." – he said as he rose from his chair and approached me – "It will be hard, but I know you can do it.". He placed a hand on my shoulder, and a wave of warmth radiated throughout my body.

Suddenly, a door appeared to my left, similar to the one I had gone through minutes ago.

"It's time." – Dream said, letting go of my shoulder. – "Go on. I will be with you in a bit." I turned towards fate and took a defiant step forward.

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WC: 826
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2251140-The-God-of-Death---Part-1