“Gavri’el,” I whisper in his ear. “Don’t let her know. Don’t let them ever know.”

A tear falls from the Messenger’s eyes, and he holds me tight in one last brotherly embrace before stepping back. I hear Death call my name, and she appears at my side, eyes shining like diamonds. The knuckles of her hands where they grip her scythe are white, trembling almost violently. She knows: she knows what I am asking and what must be done.

You must do it.

I know this will hurt her, that it will haunt her...just as sending away Winter haunts me even now, at the precipice of my own destruction. But this must be done, and she is the one I entrust to take the reins after I am gone.

My sword appears in my hand, I turn it so that the point faces where my heart would be, if I ever had one. I press the pommel into Death’s free hand. She’s shaking her head, tears like blood falling freely as she whispers for me to please not do this.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Her hand is cold within mine, and with one last apology, I pull her close as if to embrace her, letting the sword pierce through my heart. I fall back, and listen with satisfaction as the point of my weapon collides with the marble of this holy ground, pinning me in place. I can already feel it burning away at my insides.

Death gasps and cries. She moves to pull the blade out, but Gavri’el puts his hand upon her wrist and shakes his head. He helps her stand, but Death staggers back several steps until she cannot manage it anymore and falls to her knees.

For his part, Gavri’el sighs and kneels before me, cradling my head so that his hand rests across the back of my neck. I know that he has placed his palm across the seal branded there. It turns hot as fire, and soon all I can see is bright light.

“For their own sake,” I murmur as my life of false-eternity comes to an end, “protect her and them.”

I hear Death call my name.

If I get a next life, I hope that we may meet again.