“Where have you taken me?” asked Keldon.

  “To Nowhere,” said Death.

  The curved slopes of the ashen-grey crater walls towered over him, standing a hundred if not thousands of feet high. Bone-white sand made up the bed of the crater, laid out in a perfectly uniform sheet.

  “How?” thought Keldon.

Dread didn’t even begin to describe the feeling of oblivion that clutched his palms. Keldon slowly ran his fingers through the particles of bleached dust that buried him up to his knees. The grains were soft to the touch. Finer than any sand Keldon had ever felt before in his life.

  Before long, Keldon noticed that Death was already far away, gliding over the field of dust as she drifted towards the edge of the crater.

  “W-wait up!” he cried.

  Death stopped, turning to Keldon. She cast her gaze between Keldon and the crater walls, before momentarily pausing to allow Keldon to catch up.

  Keldon waded through the dunes of white sand, hustling after Death. Eventually, he caught up, winding himself in the process.

  Hh-uh…h-hold up for a second. I-I can’t… I can’t run that fast,” he said, bending over his knees.

  Death flicked two fingers at Keldon in an upwards stroke, as he was lifted from the sands, hovering in the air.

  He was… He was flying!

  Well... floating.

  “I would have appreciated it if you’d done that in the first place,” thought Keldon.

  He opened his mouth to retort with a snide content but quickly shut his mouth instead. He floated awkwardly behind Death as she drifted above the dunes of the dust. She was quite literally the embodiment of death. What sort of relationship was he even supposed to have with her? She’d said she had known him since he was a child, explaining why she kept calling him old friend. Yet, there was still an unsurmountable gap of status between the two of them. But judging on how Death had said earlier that she didn’t care for social conventions, status didn’t seem the highest on her list of priorities.

  Whatever those priorities were.

  Eventually, the two of them hit the wall of the crater as Death lurched the two of them upwards. Keldon stumbled about, unsure of where to place his body as the two of them scaled the crater cliffside.

  But breaking the rim of the deep well, as far as he could see, deep craters festered the land like open wounds. The air was arid as he whetted his cracked lips, the moisture drawn from him. The sight of the dead land deeply disturbed him, there was something so wrong about seeing any kind of environment more barren and drained of life than the Hissings. He simply couldn’t find the words to describe the feeling of dread that washed over him.

  “What happened…” asked Keldon.

  “Nothing new,” said Death.

  “Meaning?” asked Keldon.

  “I believe you already know.”

  Keldon sucked the air in through his teeth.

  “The Final Calamity…” thought Keldon.

  When it came to the Final Calamity, the type of catastrophic event he’d envisioned was like what he’d experienced during his early visions. Kingdoms overrun with Devoidlings and creatures of that ilk. But this was more than a simple catastrophe, it was an armageddon in its rawest and most visceral form.

  Everything was just… gone.

  “How… How can I possibly stop this?” whispered Keldon.

  “You can’t,” said Death.

  Keldon clenched his fist. It hurt to hear, but seeing the desecrated land in front of him, he knew she was right. How could any singular being-

  Realization dawned on him.

  “The Master of Names… that’s why you need me to bring back the Master of Names,” said Keldon.

  Death nodded her head. She flicked her fingers again, launching the two of them towards the stratosphere. They soared above the clouds, pulling away from the crust of the earth. His vision was ripped from him, eyes blurred by the speed of their ascent as they pulled away from the dead planet.

  And before Keldon could even gasp out a single word, they came to a screeching halt.

  His breath was caught in his chest, and before he could even comprehend what he was seeing, he knew that he’d hold this memory for the rest of eternity.

  He’d ascended into a universe that the greatest minds of astronomy could only dream of seeing. Pulsing, breathing lights spanned his vision, glowing in fluorescent streams of violet and cyan hues. Micrometeorites drifted by his face reflecting the gentle light from Death’s lantern as she mused quietly, allowing Keldon to revel in his awe. He reached out to touch one, feeling the smooth, yet tactile surface that spoke sagas from drifting in the cosmos.

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  Keldon let himself be taken in by the sights of infinite majesty. That is until he turned around. Nothing until this point could have fully prepared him for what he was witnessing today.

  Floating some distance away, was a being of celestial magnitude. The creature had seven legs, seven horns, and its body was built of seven stars. In one horn alone, Keldon felt like the creature contained enough otherworldly might to decimate the entire planet. However, the most terrifying thing about the being wasn’t its intense presence, nor the implication of its might.

  No… most terrifying of all.

  The creature was dead.

  It drifted in the void of space, the stars in its body shimmering a dull grey sheen. Even dead, the corpse of the being commanded respect.

  “If you mortals are lucky, your cosmos’ guardian will be the last of your casualties,” said Keldon.

  “Our guardian… all because of the final calamity?” asked Keldon.

  Death nodded.

  “ ! /?Qz^&?> is to blame.”

  Keldon shot Death a strange look. For a moment, whatever word Death had spoken felt muffled by velvet to his ears.

  “What did you just say?”

  “I’d forgotten you mortals don’t have the capacity to comprehend “ ! /?Qz^&?>’s name,” said Death. “I’ll refer to it by Absence instead.”

  “Absence…” mumbled Keldon.

  A primordial fear skittered along the back of his neck as he uttered the name.

  “Is this Absence the final calamity?” asked Keldon.

  “A Final Calamity,” said Death. “Be grateful the others have yet to take notice of this universe.”

  “There are more than one?” asked Keldon, his fingers twitching.

  “Don’t worry, there wouldn’t be any reason to worry if any more of them took notice of our small corner of the multiverse,” said Death.

  “Because we’d all just be dead…” said Keldon.

  “And now you understand.”

  Keldon let his eyes rest on the celestial corpse, his anxiety and doubts creeping up to the surface. The urge to run was practically spilling out of his ears. The scope of potential catastrophe was just too… big. His head hurt just trying to wrap his head around everything.

  “And there’s nothing you can do about it?”

  “The work of Death isn’t to prevent, merely to let courses run to their end. Whatever that end might be.”

  Keldon wanted to protest but knew it would prove a waste of breath. No matter how human Death felt now, the tide of suffocation he felt when he was lost in her eyes wasn’t something easily forgotten. But there was a nagging feeling in his chest that just wouldn’t leave him alone.

  “No. I can’t accept that.”

  Death stared blankly at Keldon before slowly giving him a wry smile.

  “And why not?”

  “You’re just way too involved to be another bystander,” said Keldon. “Tell me the truth, what’s your goal?”

  She held up her hand, displaying two fingers in an innocent gesture by her face.

  “One. Death cannot exist without life. The cycle of life must continue for Death to fulfill its purpose. And two, it was a favor. For another old friend.”

  “You have friends other than me?” blurted out Keldon.

  He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth, hoping she’d understand it was a spur-of-the-moment joke.

  “Not many,” said Death with a small chuckle, much to the relief of Keldon. “I’m sure you’ll know all about it when he gets back.”

  Suddenly, Death’s expression quickly dropped to a pale stare into the aether. She held still as a doll and her knowing smile disappeared entirely from her face as she fell into a blank expression.

  “Death? Are you messing with me?” asked Keldon.

  But she didn’t respond. Keldon shook her frail shoulders as her head wobbled around on her slim neck. A few heart-pounding moments later, her eyes flickered in their sockets, roused from her dead-eyed slumber.

  “It seems our time is coming to an end,” said Death. “I’ll have to thank fate when I have the opportunity. I’ve dearly missed experiencing the human mind.”

  Her neck snapped up straight, her expression was partly dull.

  “That reminds me, I have a gift for you.”

  “Thank fate?? And don’t worry about gifts. Are you even okay?!” said Keldon in a panic.

  Death reached out with a tender expression, stroking the side of Keldon’s cheek.

  “How wonderfully human of you.”

  She brushed her fingertips against the dead of space, materializing the bright ephemeral fabric that she’d woven earlier into her hands as it drifted out from the cosmos with a gentle glow.

  Sharp cracks echoed from the cosmos as the atmosphere warbled and twisted. Reality split like shards of glass, falling into the dark abyss of nothingness.

  Keldon’s knees wobbled as he shifted in place, unsure of what to do.

  But Death didn’t seem concerned at all with the universe fracturing around her, as she continued to weave, the ephemeral fabric shifting from translucent to solid in mere seconds.

  And then, as the cosmos shattered around them, Death wrapped a glowing scarf around Keldon’s neck. It was comforting to the touch, filling Keldon with a sense of warmth and enchanting familiarity.

  “The second of three gifts.”

“The second? What was the first?”

  Death pointed down towards his hand as Keldon felt something heavy flash into his grip. He slowly brought the object into view as wonder blossomed in his chest. It was the staff that he’d summoned when he was training with Salem the day before his passing. The dark steel and fiery glow felt as awe-inspiring as it did during its birth, pulsing in his clutch.

  “Just how involved are you?” asked Keldon.

  “You’ll need them when you are to find your place in the world. Wherever that may be,” said Death, ignoring Keldon’s question. “You’ll have your answers one day. These are to tide you over until then.”

  Keldon thought about her words carefully, thoughts pulsing inside his head. His place in the world, wherever that may be... did she mean he wasn’t supposed to go to the Grand Academy?

  Her words simmered in his mind, wavering the small bit of confidence he had in his destiny. He thought of damp basements and reading heroics with Luther by dim candlelight. Tales of Grand Magisters and arcane tricksters of epic proportions. Dreams of a brighter and safer future. There was a part of him that didn’t want to give that up. For Luther.

  And for himself.

  “And what if… what if I still have something I need- rather, I want to do. Not just for me.”

  Death straightened the scarf around his neck, wrapping him a comfortable tightness. She grew translucent and pale. Essence drifted from her being and disappeared into the dark abyss as her body cast a faint light.

  “If you are to obtain your place in this world, you must be yourself and no other,” said Death. “Simply be, and destiny will follow.”

  Keldon latched onto her words, feeling a shiver crawl up his spine. But for once, in a good way.

  “I’d appreciate it if you weren’t so cryptic. But still, even if you haven’t given me all the answers. Thanks, Death.”

  She gave Keldon a slight smile.

  “You’ll be calling to me as Yan’ Mortallis from now on instead. And try not to send yourself to an early visit when you call on my name next,” said Yan. “The Names will be paying close attention to how you’ll run your course this time. Best fortune Keldon, bring him back safely.”

  “I will.”

  There was a warmth that swelled in his chest as pings of pride flashed him. It felt good to be trusted with something so important, even if it was incredibly daunting.

  Yan vanished as Keldon found himself back in the pit of rusted swords under the yellow moon. The lunar light illuminated the mountain of broken blades, as Keldon swept his gaze around him to find once again, he was left alone.