He asks me on a walk.
By now, a chill has gripped the valley's air, even with wind blocked by the stunted cliffside mountains, and he shivers. I disguised myself in a warmer jacket to fit in with the people, but my body does not require warmth, so I slip it off and wrap it over his shoulders. Cormac is near half a foot shorter than I, perhaps six feet; tall for his kind, but not for mine. He glances up at me and says nothing, but I read his eyes just fine.
A brisk wind howls at the edge of the cliffs, wailing at the ocean as it laps against the limestone below. Cormac stares over the precipice at the sea, shaggy hair brushed back by powerful gusts.
"You must be tired," he suggests, still facing the water. "After so many years of repeating the same things. Do you ever wish you could do something else?"
I follow his gaze out to the horizon, where the sun begins to set.
A part of me hates how intuitive this boy is.
"Yes, I suppose I do," I answer. "But I have rather specific abilities that I cannot change, that I cannot simply give away, and so I must be the one to use them."
He doesn't reply, so I continue:
"Perhaps if there were far less of you pesky humans, my job might not be so taxing."
At this, he chuckles.
Most of those whom I visit are not so at ease, certainly not so delighted by my presence, and often refuse to see me until their soul has already left their body and I am tasked with finding it... but this boy is different. Sure, he knows of my legend, knows I am harmless, but he is still human... and humans are, inherently, afraid.
I'm glad to meet one who isn't.
But I have observed that, when faced with the End of the World (or at least the end of their own), humans lose some sense of dread; they replace it with a certain disdain for safety and security. They become reckless, without shame or remorse, and lose their taste for compassion.
The mortals always wonder about the End of the World. They all tell of the things they would do with their last moments, but when the time comes, I know none of that will be true. At their core, humans are selfish.
A dying man knows not of karma. He hasn't the time.
"There's so much I haven't done," Cormac whimpers, and I detect the glint of a tear in the corner of his eye. It never occurred to me that the people had goals and ambitions, for I have never needed such things... and if I ever did, I'd have as much time as I'd ever need to achieve them. But this boy... he is missing out, and I am somewhat to blame.
More than somewhat. I am entirely to blame.
"What is it you desire to do?" I ask, and he wipes his cheek with the back of his sleeve.
"I don't know, I mean..." he trails off, and I wonder if he even notices.
"Perhaps I could help you do it."
Cormac eyes me cautiously. He drags his feet on the path, kicking a smooth gray pebble until it tumbles over the cliffside and into the water below. We both pause.
"I've wondered what it's like to free-fall," he muses, gazing out over the ocean. He edges closer to the precipice, his frail human body practically swaying in the breeze.
My false human heart catches, stopping for a moment as I picture his foot slipping.
Instinctively, I reach out to grab the boy's hand, and a shock rolls through my spirit.
I have never touched a human before. Those who have gotten close were too wary, and the others refused to even look me in the face.
His hand is rather warm, with callouses at the top of his palm and tiny scars along his bony knuckles. His touch is remarkably... alive.
Despite holding hands with a corpse, Cormac gives me a fragile grin.
I return the favor.
"I cannot make you immortal," I tell him. "but if we find a safe place to jump, I will go with you, and I can be sure you will be without anxiety. How does that sound?"
Cormac's smile grows wider and he nods his head feverishly, like a young child.
The ledge we find is lower than most of the rest bordering the sea, though still high enough to be dangerous, and for a moment I wonder if I only agreed to do this to spare Cormac of time to suffer.
A brisk wind weaves through the tall grasses, whispering sweet nothings in my ears as I hike with my human up to the shelf over the ocean. He looks back to be sure I'm following, or perhaps because his body is afraid, and I smile at him.
The horizon bleeds scarlet and burns a fiery orange, illuminating our skin with its fascinating, handsome glow. I peer over the tips of my toes and down at the darkening waves below; this fall, into water that deep, will not hurt Cormac's mortal body, but I do wonder how leaping off a cliff could possibly make up for his untimely demise.
Should I apologize? After all, it is my fault he's missing so much of what life has to offer.
I don't get a chance to try, for as he nears the edge, I sense a familiar presence at my shoulder.
"We have an agreement," I whisper. Levi steps beside me, his humanlike knuckles brushing my own.
"This is not his death, I assume," he replies. "so this is not part of that agreement."
I turn to face him, and his slate eyes shine blazing amber in the dusk light, but behind the fire is a soft, pitying expression. Mine, however, is not so inviting. I warn him that if he instills fear into this human, he will regret crossing me.
"For a man who refers to himself as Chaos, you sure like to follow the rules."
"I understand you care for this mortal," he says, ignoring my threat and biting remark. "But it is not our job to connect with them. You have me on Mirage, you do not need a dying boy to be your friend."
"You're wrong," I reply. "It is my job, and you are interfering."
Levi pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. But I will be watching. If you cannot honor your one responsibility, I will have to help you myself."
I prepare a sharp remark, but Cormac turns, curious, before I can get a word in. Levi vanishes in an instant... at least, vanishes from sight. He takes a tiny form, a yellow garden snake, and hides in the grass at my feet.
"What are you waiting for?" the boy asks, his frail smile appearing once more. "The sun's almost gone. You wanna jump with me?"
I nod and follow him to the tip of the ledge, letting the oceanic breeze brush my fleshy body and weave through my soft, human-ish hair... perhaps it is not so difficult to understand the people of Earth. They experience the same pleasures in the beauty of their planet as I do, only they experience it differently – maybe even better, if I dare admit, because they know it will not last forever for them. They must savor it.
Cormac squeezes my chilled fingers in anticipation and tilts his head to look up at me. His doe eyes and rosy cherub cheeks give him a childish appearance, a desperately young façade. How awful of me to meet such a lively soul, to willingly release it from the place it truly belongs.
A dying man knows not of karma, I repeat in my mind, and try to imagine myself as one. Perhaps such a friendship with a human will call karma to my door...
But I am Death.
Nothing can hurt me.
And so I release myself.
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