But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.
********
"Here is your Common Ground. Is there anything else I can get for you, ma'am?" The server asked.
While the service was friendly and the food was good, she only came to this deli because she felt sentimental.
She had been one of the first patrons of this establishment when it opened decades ago. It used to be that she only checked on Mikael's progress every decade, but since its opening, she came around yearly.
"No, thank you," she said with a soft smile.
The man blushed a bit but left quickly.
He was a good kid, she knew.
It was a shame that there were only two decades more before he would die in a mugging in Gotham.
Still, everyone gets a lifetime.
No more.
No less.
Besides, he had it better than the poor chef.
Next tuesday, she will be in a hostage situation.
Most would survive, but she would take a bullet as an example before Dragon would deal with the situation.
As relaxed as she was, Death was still at work.
When every life was born, she was there.
When every life drew their last breath, she was there.
The Thanagarians clashed with the Shi'ar, and billions of souls were instantly lost.
Galactus had just consumed a world, and the Pheonix Force was on its way to another.
Apokolips stood on the precipice of another invasion as they continued their search.
On this planet alone, millions die every second.
There would be a spike in a week as Behemoth ransacked Stockholm. It would be pushed off quickly by the combined forces of the Justice League, Avengers, and other heroes, but only after ending the lives of 12,484 intelligent beings.
And this was but one reality of countless others Death oversaw.
And only the sentient beings.
Death was so much more than the end of sapients.
Death was the End.
She knew that somewhere out there, there were multiverses where she was but one of the Endless.
Here, she was alone.
Sipping her drink, Death looked out over the Rocky Mountains. The torrential rain did not impede her view of the natural wonders.
She had been there when they were first formed, carved from the glacial movements of ice over millions of years.
She would be here when they were ground to foothills by the passages of the wind.
The Beginning was beautiful, a spark of possibilities. The End of nothing.
The Middle was chaotic, those possibilities slamming into each other to tell a unique story. It was out of her purview, but it was all the more beautiful for it.
The End was Her.
Right now, however, Death sipped her drink as she stared past the pouring rain, the massive mountains, and the sky.
She looked beyond the Solar System, the Milkyway, and beyond time and space.
She stared at a titanic white dragon clutching a jewel to its chest as it slumbered.
The island contained within the jewel was still growing and evolving, as were the women inside. Even as the Dragon slept, it protected the jewel. The ravages of the years barely lingered on the island for a moment before power swept them away.
The Company's Deal tried to take its toll, but the Dragon bore the brunt.
Death smiled. Even subconsciously, Mikael protected what was His. She had chosen well.
He wasn't afraid of the consequences of his actions.
And he was so clever, so tricky.
He had gotten them good.
Neither she nor the Company had expected what he pulled with his Family.
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Death looked sideways to the past and future, beyond the Dragon and the jewel.
Linear time was nothing to one such as her.
Had it been anyone else but her champion, Death would have only needed to check on him once to know all possible outcomes. As a dragon of Freedom, he wasn't bound to Fate and Death was constantly worried he would deviate early in his life.
It would jeopardize everything she hoped for him. Even if his cleverness was biting him back.
Things were still on track, and Death was happy she had kept the Defences down until the Dream could end.
Mikael stood triumphant over the bodies of Aldia and Nashandra. He hadn't fallen to either of them once in their fights.
He watched as golems opened the path to the Throne.
He turned to walk away.
Death sighed.
Mikael, for all his cleverness and guile, was missing critical information. She could clear it up once he was free, but until then, he was operating on erroneous assumptions. Some of his guesses were correct, but many were not.
He did not know of the Deal.
He did not know of Her. He assumed his shackles were of the mind, heart, and world.
They were not.
His restraints were of Will, Power, and Time.
He believed that the women were not Bound to him, but he was Bound to them.
He went to great lengths to make sure they never found out.
It only fueled Mikael's desperation to get rid of them before they started ordering and changing him further.
He was right, but only so long as he was trapped. He did not understand that they only controlled his Avatar. One of the critical points Death had argued for.
The Company rep had caved once it was pointed out that a dragon of Freedom was useless if it was constantly chained by its companion.
His body was Free, as was his spirit.
Death had negotiated fiercely to stack the odds in his favour. Had he all the information, Mikael would have broken free in his first World.
But the free flow of information was one of the things she had to give up to purchase his service at a reasonable price. Billions of credits were spent, leaving only the pitiful few remaining she had offered the man. They didn't make up for what Death had been forced to give up to gain him.
So long as his punishment was ongoing, at least.
The Company took a dim view of those who tried to cheat them.
As it was, rather than reaching Freedom after one World, it would take five for Mikael to piece things together. Better than the alternative, the Company rep had wanted to order the worlds so that he would have been trapped for a few dozen.
That had been one of the points Death had won, though it cost her, as all things did when working with the Company.
As Mikeal walked away from the Throne of Want, Death surreptitiously took the souls of his foes. He would want them later, once his witch learned to craft souls into arms.
Death waived down a waiter for a refill as she watched Mikeal leave Drangleic entirely. He was partially in search of a replacement, partially sightseeing.
As an undead, Mikael felt no joy in taste, smell, or touch. He hungered but could not eat. He lusted but could not feel pleasure. But his intellectual curiosity pushed him onward.
He travelled to faraway lands, hiding his curse. He attended schools, talked to theologians, and sought out famous champions.
The Fire continued to fade, as it ever would.
It wouldn't go out until the end of the World.
Such was the nature of Gwyn's machinations.
The undead curse spread far and wide. Great warriors flocked to Drangleic, seeking to kindle it. They found a town of misfits, well guarded, to serve as a hub. More than a few would find their way to the Throne of Want and serve themselves up to the Fire.
It wouldn't be enough.
Their souls burned too quickly, unable to last for more than a year. They were not champions who had overcome gods and demons. They were men, strong men, but men nonetheless.
Their souls were mortal.
Fleeting.
Over time, a strong Fire served to draw the powerful to it. They would, in turn, grow stronger with its presence. They would then serve as food for whichever undead was strong enough to fell them. This was not the first time an undead decided to not link the fire.
This was, however, the first time an undead who could not hollow did.
Mikael travelled far and wide, searching for knowledge and someone who could serve as kindling to the Flame.
He was unaware that, so long as no one claimed his soul, resplendent as it was, no one would be strong enough to feed the First Flame.
He held the Lords in his chest.
It took four centuries for Lucatiel to track him down.
The Knight of Mirrah begged him to right his wrong. She assumed that he kept a crown of his own, and it was responsible for his unhollowed nature. So long as he did not hollow, his soul would remain anchored to his will even if he died.
Without that power, nobody else could kindle the Flame.
The knight would have offered herself up to the Flame, but for all her skill, her soul was weak.
By this point, the undead outnumbered the living. Another few centuries and life would die out completely. Hollows, for all their eternal life, could not breed.
In an Age of Dark, it wouldn't be a problem.
In the Age of Fire? It would be the end.
Death knew Mikael could not stand for that.
The man had his issues, his internal demons. He was selfish, manipulative, and secretive, but Mikael was still a good person.
She wouldn't have chosen him otherwise.
The Dragon of Life made it back to Majula within the year.
Shannalotte waited for him there, a Crown in her hands.
The only one fit for a True Monarch.
Mikeal took it with a wry smile.
As he took his seat on the Throne of Want, closing the doors behind him, Death turned her attention away from the past.
While the flames were less intense and would burn shorter than before, she did not wish to see his suffering.
Five Worlds were the lowest she could give him. Death knew this should be the last time he Burned.
It did not make watching it easy.
Nor did it change what was coming.
Turning towards the future was a happier prospect, so long as Death looked beyond Mikael's remaining punishment and the tragedies it contained.
There was no Destiny in this World, and free will still existed, but Death was strong enough that she could look through the currents of fate and see likely outcomes.
Death looked beyond the Dragon once more.
She saw it achieve its Freedom, and there the paths diverged.
In one path, it made its way to various worlds.
It dropped off its companions as it had promised. They would never relent in hunting him. He would spend centuries fleeing, pursued by those who loved him. It would take him that long to realize the error of his assumptions.
He would then spend eons at their side, making up for it.
That path reached a happy, if incomplete, end.
In another, Death summoned him.
He would hunt her down and hold her responsible for all the suffering he and his women had faced.
The World would rise up against him in his crusade, and he would lay it low. Heroes and champions would fall to either him or his hoard. Once she explained her side, his relationship with his women would progress quickly, for good and ill, but Mikael would forever resent Death.
Countless other possibilities spiralled out in front of her.
Death ignored any she wasn't present in.
Those were of no use.
She focused on those who saw her meeting Mikael as quickly as possible in favourable settings. From there, they could be friends or rivals. Lovers or companions.
Eventually, Death settled on the same course of action as always.
The one that most likely led to Mikael walking through the door of this deli a year from now to meet her.
Death stood from her seat, leaving money on the table for her drinks. A pleasant walk in the rain would be good right about now.
She was feeling nostalgic.
A plan, millions of years in the making, would come to fruition soon.
She'd be Free.