"Oh my. How long have you been here? Where did you come from?"

A castle of stone. A field of men and tents. The cold embrace of snow and ice. The images come fast and with little clarity. Each moment in time fuzzy, no details stand out. Only impressions. I am lost in a sea of blurred out faces. The lightning flashing, lighting up the sky and casting shadows over their faces. When was the last time I saw the sun? I do not remember. There are only clouds. The rain and snow fall in equal measure, chilling the land, turning into ice as soon as it lands. His hands are shaking but he does not stop.

"I see. What is your name?"

They chanted his name in the streets and I am by his side. They see me. They fear me the way they fear him. But they do not call to me like they do him. He is the only one who looks at me and smiled. He opens his mouth can calls my name. "...e...y...r..." But its lost in the roar of battle. He calls to me and we go together. It will only end when he dies. He can see it. His time is close. But he charges still. I could see his end too. I did nothing to stop him, he had to go, he worked so hard to get to this end.

"...Where did he go?"

He went to go meet Death. They danced around each other so often. He was tired. He fought for so long. Death should have come to him so long ago. Didn't he serve Death well? Didn't he do what Death asked of him? The battles, the blood, the rain. They mixed together and got into his eyes. He was blind to the cries of pain. Deaf to the bodies lying in the snow. He had to go meet Death. I was the only one who could take him there. He wanted me to be with him when he saw Death. He wanted me to be there in the End. He wanted to rest. The snow was calling him home.

"I am Death."

No, you could not be Death. Death was cold.

His voice was a rasp, deep and chilling. His eyes were black and he melded into smoke. Death was much taller then any man. Much more fearsome too. You could not be death. You are to soft, your face not as sharp. Death commanded our fear.

You could not be Death.

"I am Death. How else would I know to come and talk to you?"

There were once whispers and tales. The people He watched over came to see me after he was gone. Taken and placed, away from where I belong. The whispers continued until the children of the children of the children who once saw us in battle, who saw us gleam in the sunlight, we long gone. The stories forgotten and the whispered unheard. No one alive could know. Should know. Are You The Death?

"I am the First Grim Reaper. I am Death."

You are Death. We met a long time ago. He and I served well, do you remember him? The battle ground was my home. I was his will. Your will was his. I remember death.

"...Would you like to leave this place?"

Leave this place? I do not know how to leave. Sitting for ages. Lost my name, the face of the one i fallowed for so long. The snow would miss me. The vines in the summer would me left without anything to hold. To leave...I would not know where to go. I have no friend nor partner nor master to serve. If I left, I would have less then I do now.

"I could take you with me. You could fight for me. With me."

Who do you fight now? What stand in the way of Death? Were those who fell into madness not defeated before?

"I fight for the World, for Humans, for those who cannot save themselves. I fight those who would devour the souls of the innocent. I fight the witches and madness. I fight those souls who have lost their way."

...Can I trust you Death? Will I stay with you?

"Trust in me little weapon. You would stay by my side."