2

For centuries Shade had felt nothing. Feelings were part of a reactive process. When things happened to you, you responded by feeling something. So when nothing happened to you for almost 200 years, you didn't feel anything. They say that time heals all wounds. When you have had centuries of time, not even your memories stirred a reaction anymore.

He missed that about himself. Feelings.

Today was different. Today he had a chance to change things. So for a brief moment, for the first time in centuries, in honor of today, he forced himself to feel something that vaguely resembled hope. He used to be an optimist after all.

It didn't work very well. At least he tried.

There was a little girl playing in the yard. She was 5 years old. She had big, beautiful, intelligent blue eyes. She had dark red hair, which was long and curled into ringlets at the ends. She was wearing a purple sundress and chasing bugs. Butterflies. Typical for a five year old girl.

She was cute.

He would have liked to have had a daughter.

When he was alive, Shade had tried not to think about having kids. It had made him anxious. That was ironic because now that he was dead he thought about it a lot. If he had married Rosellin they would have had daughters. And his daughters would have had children, and by now there may have even been great-grandchildren, and they would have been happy, and he would be an old man, in his golden years, closing in on the end of his life with the contented feeling of a job well done.

And he wouldn't be here. And this little girls mother wouldn’t have to die today.

The little girl wandered over to where he was standing and held out a fist to look at her catch, an unfortunate butterfly. He glanced at it. She glanced up at him briefly, studying his face, then scampered off cradling the mangled thing in her hands. His dead heart sank a little.

If she could see him, then that meant she didn't have much time left in this life either.

After centuries of living detached from life, you tuned it out. It was like when you stare at a page for too long- it becomes blurry, and unfocussed. When you listen to the same annoying sound, over and over, eventually it fades and gets far away. This happens to the living, but it is a lighter condition- you are never too far from reality and it is always easy to come back. Being alive tethers you there. After centuries, Shade was so deeply withdrawn from everything that it was all just shadows and blurs.

It was like resurfacing from the deepest part of the ocean.  It was hard to come up from such silent and indistinguishable depths. He had to force himself back into reality, just for a few minutes. Just long enough to speak with the girl’s mother. Then he would slip away again soon.

But then the little girl wandered over…. she looked at him. He realized with a sinking feeling that the little girl could see him. He watched, horrified as she scampered towards the house to where her mother was. He couldn’t watch this happen. If she could see him, then he could stop her. He followed. "Wait!" He called. "What's that you have?"

The little girl turned around and glanced at him and then looked back at her butterfly. "A bug." she answered.

He caught up with her and put on a smile, kneeling down to her level "How interesting! Look at those wings." She smiled, glad that he approved of it. "Come on, let's go catch more bugs!" he said.

"Ok!" her eyes brightened as she realized she had found a playmate. She tried taking his hand but he ran ahead of her, not letting her touch him. He couldn’t let her realize that he was a ghost. He led her back out to the yard, which was really just a clearing of grass surrounded by forest.

He led her towards the trees. “Oooh look at this one!” he said, pointing at a leaf. She ran over to it. It was green with transparent wings and long antennae. “It’s a lacewing.” He added, hoping to keep her attention.

“Wow” she whispered, trying to catch it, but it fluttered away, towards the house. She started to follow it.

He shot a worried glance back towards the house “Better let it be free.” he called. She barely looked back at him. He panicked “I think I see another one over here!” he looked around desperately for something to hold her attention, finding nothing. Then she came running back, holding out her hand.

“Look!” she called happily. As she opened her hands, the lacewing fluttered out, and through him. Instead of the terror he thought she’d express, she laughed. “Are you invisible?” she asked.

“Ummm. Yes?” he responded.

“What’s your name?” she asked

“Shade.” He responded. “What’s yours?”

"Rhiannon." she replied. Before he could say anything else he felt the woman in the house die. He grimaced.  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

What am I supposed to tell a five year old?? He floundered. And she was really smart. He couldn’t lie to her, and she would find out soon anyway.  “I think… uhh. I think someone bad just went into your house. We should hide.”

1 [things are getting more organized! yaay!]

Nobody likes endings. But what they don't realize is the end is only the beginning of something else. And the beginning of what I'm about to tell you starts with an ending.

The pain didn’t bother him. He looked down and struggled to get his eyes to focus, but they wouldn’t listen to him. They just kept flitting around, blurred. He tried blinking, but they wouldn’t close.  He was losing control over them.  Finally, on their own, they sharpened on what could only be his own blood surging out of his gut. But it was a muted pain.  He watched, captivated by his own blood, until his eyes lost focus again.

His vision was all over the place. The colors were weird. They were too bright. Things he never noticed before came into focus. The molding around the ceiling really was beautiful. Someone must have worked really hard carving it. He wondered who the craftsman was. It was odd that he never noticed it before. He tried focusing on the people in the room, but the molding kept grabbing his attention. Then the window. There was a fly on the window and it was annoying him. His eyes focused on it so well that he could see the veins in its wings. He watched it rub its hands together as he bled to death.  He chuckled at the thought but instead it came out as a horrible dying noise and caused stuff to splatter out of him.  He could barely feel anything. It almost felt like it was happening to someone else. It was like he was two people, each feeling different effects of the damage.

The shriek behind him told him that it was scaring other people. He choked back his chuckle, wishing the conniving fly wasn’t suddenly so funny.

Red tinted his vision. There was a loud ringing in the room that he was sure no one else could hear.  It was drowning out the sound of Rosellin’s screams. That’s right…. Rosellin was behind him. He backed up against her, pushing her against the wall. He didn’t want any sharp objects coming at her.

His ears felt heavy from the inside. They weren’t working very well. Her screams sounded odd, twisted, like they were coming from something that was being whipped around at a high speed.

Apparently he lost his footing because now Rosellin’s arms were around him from the behind, holding him up. She wouldn’t stop babbling at him. But it was just white noise now. What really bothered him was the fact that his head felt like it was floating. The world was fluttering around him. To him everything was happening at light speed but it also felt like time was lagging along- his body and his soul experiencing the same thing in different ways.

His killer drew back again. He watched, absorbed, as the sword, his sword, plunged forward towards his chest.  He thought of Rosellin, behind him, and held out his hands to stop it. He couldn’t let it go through him- because it would hurt her.

The sword planted itself in his chest, just missing his heart, not quite impaling him.  Then it was yanked out. He didn't notice.

As abruptly as it had started, it stopped. He blinked. His chest stopped bleeding. The world froze. The red cooled down to black. He turned around to check on Rosellin.

But she wasn't there.

Instead a woman was standing in her place who he had never seen before, although she looked somewhat familiar.  She wore all black, and a white mask.  She was watching something closely. When it was all over she acknowledged him.

"Hello, Shade." she said.

"Hello?" he responded. "Who are you?"

She didn't answer but walked forward, kneeling down over his body. He watched her.

After examining the body for a moment she looked up at him.  "You're dead." she said. "You need to leave. Right now. If you don't, something terrible will happen."

"Something terrible?" he said, trying to comprehend the situation. "But hasn't something terrible already happened?"

"Dying isn't terrible." she responded. "There are things much worse than this."

He paused, thinking. Then he said "Like what?"

The grey eyes behind the mask met his. "You don't want to find out."

Shade aimlessly wandered the outskirts of the city, climbing a hill just for the heck of it.

Who was that girl? Was that Death? Why didn't she tell him where to go or what to do? Wasn't that Deaths job? 

He sat down, not out of physical exhaustion, but to let his thoughts catch up with him. And they did, all at once. Toorima... His best friend….. killed him. Why?! He watched the sun set, the summer wind blowing through him. He frowned when he couldn’t feel it or smell the grass in the air.

 He was supposed to be married tomorrow. For a second, he had really thought he would have been married. He shook his head. He had never seen himself getting married.  Although he loved Rosellin, he always had this nagging doubt that it wasn’t going to happen. But despite his doubts… for a short amount of time he believed that it would.

The city was beginning to glitter, all the torches and lights turning on for the night. 

His future was gone. All the things he pictured them doing. Getting old together, playing with grandchildren. Small things. Companionship. Holding each other hand. Taking care of each other when they were sick. How pretty she would have looked in her wedding dress. But he had always known it wasn't going to happen. It had all been just wishful thinking. 

He watched a blimp glide by and lower its altitude. Despair choked him. Why did Toori do this? How was it even possible for her to do this?! None of it made any sense!

Shade had never been a fan of change, or the unknown, and this was the biggest change he would ever face. He would have to adjust somehow. 

Didn't dead people go somewhere? What was he supposed to do now?

Was Rosellin still alive? Did Toori kill her too? If so, would he find her wandering the city, like he was?

Asphodel frowned at the injured, bleeding body of the boy. "Are you sure that injuring him was the best idea? He might die as soon as we pair them."

"He'll be fine." Replied Carmine. "He just won't be able to move for a while. Did you take care of the boy?"

"Yes." Asphodel responded, looking back down at the prone shape.

Slowly his breathing returned to normal and his eyes opened. For a split second they were black, like Thanatos's, until he blinked and they returned to green. He stared straight ahead, confusion flitting across his face. Carmine leaned over. "Hello, Thanatos." He focused on her.

"Who-" he started, and then made a noise of pain. A moment later he tried to choke out: "How-"

"You'll remember me soon enough, old friend." Carmine replied. She glanced at Asphodel. "Asphodel, take care of him." She nodded.

Thanatos turned his head, studying Asphodels face. She met his eyes for a second and then grimaced, pulling her mask down and followed Carmine out of the room. She returned a short time later with herbs and a basin of water.

She knelt down next to Thanatos, smashing the herbs down into a sticky paste. "That mask-" Thanatos said "do you know what that is?" 

"Yes." She responded as she worked. 

He watched her more closely, trying hard to read the situation. Her body language indicated that she was clearly, very unhappy. "You shouldn't be wearing it." He continued. She didn't respond. He lapsed into silence. 

There was something familiar about this girl. 

He flinched when she began cleaning the wound, feeling sick, and close to passing out. "Sorry-" she said instinctively. She continued working on him. The wound was a bad one. If it did manage to heal on its own, it wouldn't heal properly. She straightened up. "This is a bad injury." She announced. "If we're lucky, you won't survive." There was a hint of smugness in her voice. 

He said nothing, but smiled. The fact that he was suddenly trapped inside of a mortal body was a very bad thing. Who were these people? And how did they manage to do this?

He watched with tunneling vision as Asphodel rinsed the bloody rag in the water basin. As she reached down to clean the injury again, he grabbed her wrist, feeling for a pulse. There was none. Startled, she yanked her hand back. "I knew it…." He said, before he lost consciousness.

Enter: Villains

"You can never get back there you know" Thanatos said with a smirk. "Becoming immortal in a mortal realm ruined that for you"

"Shut up" Carmine hissed angrily. She grabbed him by the neck, pushing him against the wall. He raised his hands in mock defeat. Her face was so contorted and angry he could literally feel it radiating off of her. "I would be careful with that body if I were you." She warned softly. "Wouldn't want to hurt that boy more than you already have." 

Thanatos said nothing. 

Her face relaxed and she smiled. "You don't know what I can do" she murmured. "I will get back into the eternities. I will find Nyx and destroy her." Thanatos narrowed his eyes in hatred and disgust. "And then, Thanatos, you will truly belong to me. You and this sad little realm." She loosed her grip and walked away. 

"I will never belong to you." Thanatos growled as she left. "And this realm won't either!" He yelled. "That Carmine girl will be free! You will lose your body! You will never TOUCH my mother, and there's no way you will EVER set foot in Elysium!" His yell echoed down the hallway. He quieted. 

She turned around "You will belong to me, just as you did before." She whispered. She turned with a smirk and was gone. Thanatos yelled in frustration and punched the wall, breaking some fingers.




"Ow!" Shade yelled in pain. Rhiannon flipped around to see him looking at his hand in surprise. 

"Ow? What do you mean ow?" She asked.

"My hand! It hurts"

"What?? How that possible?"

"I have no idea" Shade said, tentatively flexing his spirit fingers. 





Thanatos held his hand in pain.
Asphodel stepped at out the shadows. "Wow. That was smart." She remarked. 

He looked up at her. "Yeah, maybe breaking my hand was a bad idea." 

She snorted "I meant the whole conversation. But yes, breaking the boys hand was a stupid idea too. What did you hope to accomplish by that conversation Thanatos?" 

He looked at her blankly. "I have no idea." He said. "I think the boys teenage hormones are getting to me." 

"I'm glad I don't have to deal with that. Being dead has its perks." She said flatly, pulling the mask back down over her face. "You should be more careful. She may decide she doesn't need you living after all. Then she will kill that boy just to get revenge on you. And when you're dead you can't fight back."

"Perhaps you can't." Said Thanatos trying to flex his hurting fingers. "But I am Death. I would only gain more power. This living body staunches me. By letting Shade live I am only sacrificing my own abilities."

"Oh? Then perhaps I should kill you and let you end this?" She said with venom. He looked up at her. "200 years is too long to be her puppet." She spat, moving closer. "If I had known back then that you could have ended this, I would have killed the body back then." 

He narrowed his eyes. "No you wouldn't" he spat back. "200 years ago you wouldn't have hurt anyone. You have changed, Asphodel." She stopped, a look of pain in her eyes. "I warn you. You do not want to be my enemy." Thanatos continued lessening the gap between them. "I will end the Usurper, and if you turn on me, I will end you." He paused, letting it sink in. "I am the end of all things. Keeping me bound in a living body will not stop me. I am the cold truth. All things must someday face me." He looked her squarely in the eyes his own green eyes darkening to black. "Think about your own salvation Asphodel, and where you want to be when the end finally comes for you." 

Then he left the room, leaving her alone with nothing but her guilt. 

Living Memory

The living brain cannot cope with too many memories. The living brain forgets. It pushes experiences somewhere deep down, in the subconscious. Sometimes these memories bob to the surface, but they are warped, foggy, and fragmented. However, the brain has a remarkable ability to learn from experiences. It is able to forget the memory but remember every detail of the lesson.

The dead remember everything with high definition, vivid collection of everything that has ever happened in their existence. Memories that were once blurred and decayed become clearer than they ever were before, even more clear than the day they experienced them. Memories that they didn't even know they had.

3

Legend has it that the tennins came to this land when it was in chaos, raw material with no stewards, elements swirling and circling, held in one place only by gravity. They set this world into motion, so that we, their descendants, may come here and discover the beauty and bitterness of life.

After thousands of years, many people today don't remember whom they are descended from.

Today there are over six billion people on this planet. Every last person here has their own unique story. This is one of many.

Years ago, when I was just a little girl, a boy with green eyes and dark hair had appeared the day my mother died.

6

Nobody likes endings. But what they don't realize is the end of one thing is always the beginning of another.

6.28.12



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It keeps going on like that, forever. Endings are never really the end. 

7

Some people see death as the end.
In this case it’s only the beginning.


This is a place so high up that the sky turns to water and up becomes down. Where stars are really cities and the inky black of the night sky is really the greens and browns of another world. A world almost like our own, with people almost like us. And if they were to look hard enough into their ocean they might see clouds, the clouds of our world, drifting along in its depths.

This is a place on the other side of the mirror where stories of our past aren't just stories, but part of daily life. Where things that are normal for us are legends for them.

It all began with a death.
And it continued with a birth.

2008