A Date With Death

Griffith Empire, Human Race…

La Gris City…

Lanker Village…

"M-mom…" Damon groaned as he looked to the side and realized he was alone.

Damon had a congenital condition that had made his life unbearable for the past fifteen years of life. His skin felt like it was on fire and his veins hurt badly. His veins were big and black, throbbing like a beating heart, while his skin was unnecessarily pale as if he suffered from blood deficiency.

Damon inhaled deeply, feeling the air brush against his dry throat. He felt thirsty, hungry, weak, restless, and numb all at once. His body was shriveled to the point where his bone was visible.

Everyone who saw Damon's condition believed he was cursed, and many suggested the interference of the holy church, but their services don't come cheap.

While his family wasn't poor, they weren't wealthy either. They were peasants with just enough to put food on the table, requesting the assistance of a mere apprentice of the church would cost a decade's worth of saving every penny they made.

It just wasn't possible…

Because of this, Damon stayed indoors all his life and had no social life. He was a plague everyone chose to avoid, and this left him wondering why he had to suffer this much.

What did he do to deserve such a cruel fate?

"Just die already!" A cruel voice rang in Damon's head like a bell, sending chills down his spine.

Damon's eyes darted around in search of the source of the sound. He felt the world around him getting smaller and the environment turning darker with each passing moment.

"W-what a-are you?" Damon stuttered while gasping for breath.

Damon grasped his chest while struggling for breath. His vision was fading and his body temperature was increasing rapidly. 

"Just shut up and die." The cruel voice sounded impatient.

Upon hearing those words, Damon felt his consciousness plunge into darkness. He found himself in the middle of the raging ocean on a dark night with only the dim rays of the full moon to rely on.

At the center of the boundless ocean was a whirlpool and after looking closely, Damon noticed the water at the center of the whirlpool was pitch black.

"What's going on? Where is this?" Damon blurted out the questions that came to mind.

He had goosebumps on his shriveled skin, and the cold penetrated his bones. 

Bang!

A thunderbolt struck the center of the whirlpool and a figure appeared. It was a young man in his mid-twenties, dressed in long black and green robes.

The man had long hair, black hair with green stripes. His visage was fierce, but he had perfect facial features. Strangely, seeing this man dispelled all the fear Damon felt, the raging storm abruptly stopped, and the world fell silent.

The world was terrified of this man!

"Hello." Damon muttered as he waved shyly

The scene was so dumbfounding that this was the only reaction he could come up with. The fact the man could sit in a cross-legged position at the center of a whirlpool meant this man was not normal.

Damon waited a while for a response, but he got none. He noticed the man was just glaring at him impatiently. It felt like a serpent that had poisoned its prey and was patiently waiting for it to die.

"Are you a powerful magus?" Damon broke the eerie silence with another question, causing the man to squint in annoyance.

Unfortunately, this wasn't enough to get a response.

The strange man remained silent and still like a statue, leaving behind only the clanking sound of steel chains.

Since he wasn't getting any response, Damon shifted his attention to the black chains. He noticed the man was bound by the chains, and it was the reason for the black water.

"Do you need help with that?" Damon asked, pointing at the chains.

Hahahahahahaha hahahahaha!

Damon's words were met by a resounding laughter that boomed like thunder. 

"A mortal wishes to help a God? Amusing!" The man laughed heartily. 

"Good… Good… I haven't had a reason to laugh in centuries… Tell me, mortal, how should I reward you for this?" The man asked with an amused smile.

It wouldn't hurt to grant this mortal a dying wish.

"I have this curse that has been killing me since I was born. Can you help me get rid of it?" Damon responded without hesitation.

That was the only thing he could think of, but that was also the only thing this mysterious man was unwilling to do.

"Unfortunately, that is the only thing I can't do." The man shook his head. "Ask for something else."

"Why can't you get rid of the curse?" Damon asked, a hint of disappointment visible in his eyes.

"Because it is not a curse, it is fate. Your body is destined to host the Invincible God of Death. Nothing can change that." The man said with a proud smirk, waiting for showers of praise from the kid.

"Wooow! The God of Death?" Damon covered his mouth in shock.

The man just sat there with his eyes closed and a proud grin on his face as he nodded.

"Amazing! Where is he?" 

Buzz!

The man almost went deaf with rage as he saw Damon, looking around in search of the God of Death. Was he so insignificant that this mortal couldn't consider the possibility that he was the God of Death? 

"Me! I am the God of Death!" The man snapped at Damon furiously. 

Only after yelling did he realize he lost composure because of this mortal, and this left him feeling embarrassed. 

"Why are you yelling at me? What did I do?" Damon yelled back, leaving the God of Death stunned.

Not only did this mortal look down on him, he also dared to raise his voice on a deity!

"You are either a very bold child or a fool." His eyes narrowed.

"It's more like I don't care. I'm going to die anyway." Damon shrugged.

So what if this man was the God of Death?

If he could not lift the curse, it meant he was going to die anyway, so he had no reason to be afraid.

"So why do you want my body?" Damon asked.

"I cannot give you the answer you seek. All I can say is I have great plans for it." The man answered.

"Then why don't you just let me tag along and watch." Damon suggested.

Damon's words made the man raise an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look.

"I mean, instead of killing me, just let me watch. You are the God of Death, so you can save me, right?"

"Since it's my body, I should at least have the right to see what you plan to use it for."

"I don't care if you want to destroy the world, and I won't tell you what to do. I promise!" 

Listening to Damon's rants, the man realized something about this kid. Damon was not afraid of death, he was just bored. 

All fifteen years of his life were spent locked up in a room, suffering in silence. The kid only wanted to experience life like every other person, he didn't even mind if he wasn't the one in control of his body.

This Child was not scared of Death!

"What is your name?" The man asked, his voice gentler than before.

"Hi, I'm Damon. What about you?" Damon asked as he hovered toward the center of the whirlpool, where the man was seated with his hand extended for a handshake.

A brief silence followed as the man looked at Damon's hand and then his face, ignoring the handshake.

"Sol…" The man muttered those words with a lost expression.

He slowly extended his hand and shook Damon's little hand gently.

"Hi, I'm Death."