Zareth's steps were slow as he left the village behind, the familiar cold of Death clinging to him. His mind was clouded with the image of the old man he'd watched die. The frailty, the finality of it all—Zareth had thought he would be the one to take the soul, but it hadn't been that simple. The old man had passed on his own, as if Zareth's presence hadn't mattered at all. It made him feel useless, a bystander to the inevitable.
"That wasn't what I expected," he muttered, the chill of Death's presence wrapping tighter around him. "I thought being your disciple meant I'd be... active. Taking the soul. But instead, I just stood there." He paused, the weight of his own inaction hanging over him. "Is that what it's going to be like? Watching people die without doing anything?"
Zareth continued through the darkened forest, his frustration building. The memory of the old man's defiant eyes as he clung to life replayed in his mind. He'd expected something more powerful, something to define him as Death's disciple. Instead, he had felt powerless, like a bystander.
Death's voice cut through the quiet, as cold as ever. "You misunderstand your role, Zareth. You are not the one to decide death, nor to take every life. You are the shepherd, guiding those whose time has come to their final rest."
Zareth's lips tightened, the cold air stinging his lungs as he exhaled sharply. "A shepherd? I thought I'd be something more than just a guide. I've waited my whole life for a sign from a god, and now that I've finally got one, I'm... nothing but a silent observer?"
"You are far more than that," Death replied, calm but unwavering. "A shepherd does not simply watch. He ensures the flock does not stray. Your role is one of balance, Zareth. Souls must pass when their time has come. And when it does not... that is when you will act."
Zareth swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. "So, if someone refuses to pass? I make sure they do?"
"Yes. That is when you must intervene. But not every moment calls for force. Your power lies in the balance between life and death."
Zareth frowned, processing the weight of those words. Balance. It was starting to make more sense now, though it didn't make him feel any less frustrated. "So I'm a guide, a... protector of sorts. But what about my powers? I've got shadows following me everywhere I go, but I don't know what to do with them."
Death's presence thickened, the cold pressing down harder. "Your powers are tied to more than shadows, Zareth. They are an extension of your role—a manifestation of the delicate thread between life and death. But you must grow into them."
Zareth's frustration flared again. "Grow into them? How am I supposed to do that if I don't even know what I'm supposed to be growing into?" His voice rose, sharper than he intended. "You can't just give me cryptic messages and expect me to figure everything out on my own. I need more."
There was silence for a moment, the tension between them building, and Zareth's chest tightened. He could feel something shifting, something heavier than before. The shadows at his feet began to stir, moving like living things in response to his words. For a moment, Zareth thought Death would fall silent again, leaving him with more questions than answers.
But then, Death spoke, and the weight of the voice felt different—more direct. "You want to understand your powers, Zareth? You wish to know your true role?"
Zareth clenched his fists. "Yes. I've done what you've asked so far. But I need more than just... shadows and whispers. What am I supposed to be?"
Death's presence swelled, and the temperature dropped further. Zareth felt the air around him pulse with something ancient and vast, something that sent a shiver down his spine. "Then perhaps it is time for you to see the truth for yourself. Step forward, and you will learn what it means to be Death's disciple."
The shadows around Zareth swirled faster, coiling like serpents. The ground trembled slightly beneath him, and the shadows twisted upward, forming a large, dark portal. The air around him became thick with energy, the portal humming with a low, eerie vibration.
Zareth's breath caught in his throat as he stared into the swirling darkness. He could feel the cold radiating from it, almost pulling him in. This was it—answers. The truth about his powers, his role, his future as Death's disciple. But there was something terrifying about it too. Stepping through that portal felt like crossing a threshold he couldn't come back from.
"Come, Zareth," Death's voice echoed, cold and steady. "Face me, and you will find the answers you seek. But know this: once you step through, there is no turning back."
Zareth swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes stayed fixed on the portal, the swirling shadows beckoning him forward. It was everything he had been asking for—answers, clarity, purpose. But the weight of the moment pressed down on him, heavier than anything he'd ever faced.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the portal. "No going back now."
With one final breath, Zareth stepped forward, his body tensing as he crossed the threshold into the swirling darkness. The cold engulfed him instantly, wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. The world around him vanished, consumed by the shadows as the void swallowed him whole.
For a moment, there was nothing—just the vast emptiness of the cold void. Zareth felt like he was falling, weightless and adrift in the darkness. His heart pounded in his ears, his breath shallow as the shadows pressed in on him from all sides.
And then, in the deepest part of the void, something shifted. A presence loomed, vast and overwhelming. Death.
Zareth's breath caught in his throat, his body freezing as the presence grew closer, more tangible. He could feel it—an ancient force that had existed since the beginning of time, something beyond comprehension. The shadows around him began to swirl faster, the cold deepening as Death's presence enveloped him.
Finally, Zareth spoke, his voice trembling slightly. "I'm here. Now... show me what I am."
The void pulsed with energy, and Zareth felt the presence of Death fully surround him. This was it—the moment he had been waiting for.