“I forgot,” he replied, eyebrows raised with surprise.
“You forgot I was coming to see you?”
“I was bored. I never see anything new. I can’t leave this world. I’ve traveled its mountains and its valleys. I’ve sailed its oceans and seas. Truthfully, I lost track of time and forgot that you were due to return today. Forgive me,” he said, though he didn’t even reach out to hold her.
Unending and I agreed it was then that things truly began to break down between them. But the split was one sided, because Death still loved Shezin with the same intensity as in the beginning. For her, nothing had changed. For him, everything kept changing on a daily basis. His concept of time passing was incredibly sensitive and thorough. He felt the days and the months, the years and the decades that went by, while for Death, it was all the same. Winters on Dain were like a single breath of cold air, while summers were a split second of scorching sunshine.
“They would not have lasted,” Unending sighed, sorrow dripping from her voice. I realized the same verdict could’ve applied to her and Erethiel had he still lived… or to us. A painful pang stabbed my heart, and I refused to even consider that possibility.
“His mind changed. His heart song faded,” I told her. “You can’t predict how a man will feel later down the line. I know you’re probably thinking the same thing would’ve happened to you and Erethiel. Or that the same thing will happen to us, but don’t worry. Death… she’s different. She is truly eternal. The rest of us are mere wisps of existence by comparison. Specks of cosmic dust.”
She gave me a sad smile. “You’ll love me forever, then?”
“I hope I will,” I replied. “I want to, yes. Just like I want you to love me forever. But we can’t predict what the future holds. So, if you’re feeling in any way discouraged by what you just saw… don’t. We barely have two decades together. I’ve enjoyed our time together so far, and I don’t wish for it to end.” I paused to carefully analyze her expression. “Do you?” She shook her head, so I kissed her deeply. “Good…”
I couldn’t promise an eternity. Neither could she. But we could make the most of what we had and hope for the best. We could cherish every moment we had together, and we could make sure there was a future ahead for us to look forward to. Eternity was a big word, and only someone like Death or the Word or Order—three of the universe’s driving forces—could truly comprehend it.
As we sifted through more of Death’s memories, the sun rose outside, its pinkish light pouring through the window and warming my back. We’d reached the end of the line. Shezin had come to Death with a sad look on his face, his brows drawn into a heavy, dark frown. “Forgive me,” he told her as they held hands. “It would not be fair to lie to you. But my heart… it doesn’t belong to you anymore.” As he spoke those words, Death saw the end of his gold chain breaking. It left her alone, links hanging from her chest, love broken and shattered. “I can’t love you anymore. I want to, but… I can’t. I just can’t.”
To my surprise, Death took it in a relatively mature fashion. Her vision went hazy, a sign of deep emotion. She didn’t possess the ability to cry, of course, but these small details showed that her soul was in turmoil upon hearing his words. Even so, she kept her composure and accepted Shezin’s demand for separation.
She left him his immortality, and she left him the scythe, too. “I still can’t believe she made him a Reaper weapon and taught him death magic because he complained of boredom,” Unending said, irritated and amused at the same time.
Years went by, and as Shezin went on with his life, we realized that Death didn’t really leave his side. Unbeknown to him at the time, she’d come to see him, to follow him around, quietly watching. Shezin stayed out of sight and kept to his cabin in the mountains. He used death magic to sneak into Dain cities and swipe some of their books and manuscripts, since he lacked literary entertainment. It was clear to us that despite his rejection, Death still loved Shezin, even though he had moved on. One day, unable to take it anymore, she made a troubling decision.
She revealed herself to Shezin and asked him to keep her memories. Unable to exist like this anymore, she chose to extract every moment she had spent with him. In return, she gave Shezin dominion over Dain as a sort of living Reaper—he sent the souls of the people into the afterlife, and she kept the planet out of the Reapers’ registries of inhabited worlds. It was her final gift to him before she extracted the memories of their love. The last bauble held her final memory. Death was already confused and unable to understand much of what was going on, but Shezin assured her it would be okay.
Death had given him precise instructions on how to handle the last memory extraction and send her on her way without even the faintest recollection of them meeting—it worked because she’d made the spell to work on her, too. The image faded into darkness, and that was the last of the memory keepers. That was the end of Death’s love for Shezin. The gold chain had been absorbed into her being, hidden from sight. The pain in her soul must’ve faded over time, though she’d probably had trouble explaining it to herself.
It didn’t matter anymore. Shezin and Dain were out of her mind and heart for good. There were five other baubles left in the box. The memories of five Reapers who had come to Dain over the eons, memories Shezin had plucked and shoved into the glass balls. They looked slightly different from Death’s—much smaller and darker at first sight.
Unending let out a heavy sigh. “I kind of feel sorry for her. How deeply it must’ve hurt for her, of all entities in this world, to choose to forget.”
“In the end, it wasn’t hypocritical of her to judge and chastise you over your relationship with Erethiel and your gift to him, if you think about it,” I replied, trying not to smile. She picked up on it and playfully shoved me. I tumbled backward and burst into laughter. “It’s true. Think about it. She has absolutely no recollection of being the pot, my beloved kettle.”
“Yeah… I know,” she grumbled. “I’m still pissed off.”
“You have every right to be. Though, annoyingly enough, this only proves the two of you are more alike than either of you would care to admit.”
Unending shrugged. “Hence the constant friction. Yes. Now, I would like to see what the other Reapers’ memories entail.”
“How long before Shezin realizes we swiped them?”
“I’m not sure. I doubt he’s the type to watch these over and over for his own entertainment.” A knock on the door startled us both. We looked at each other, then at the memory keepers spread on the floor between us. “Who is it?” Unending asked aloud.
“Priestess Ashuna,” said a sweet voice from the other side of the door. “We are preparing to break our fast in the roof top gardens, if you would care to join us? There is fresh blood for your husband, as well, kindly donated by one of my sisters.”
A few moments passed as we gathered the baubles back in the pillowcase, which Unending then proceeded to hide under the bed. “Give us a few minutes,” I called out. “We will gladly join you on the rooftop.”