Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction / Devil May Cry - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Knights of the Realms ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Death was getting old.

He could feel it in his bones, a weariness resulting from a life of hardships. Amadeus Thines had become Death's apprentice when he was twelve, and forced into becoming a fully fledged reaper not a year later.. That had been seventy-four years ago, when he found out that Death, the Grim Reaper, was in fact human. Always had been. For who better to usher souls on into the next step on humanity than one who could truly understand what life was? Amadeus knew that his time was nearing its end, that his apprentice, a young girl named Clarice, would soon take up the scythe. Yes, he was getting old.

The man standing next to Amadeus did nothing to alleviate the burdening weight of his age. He had known the man since he was thirteen, and was the one man that, as Death, he had never been able to figure out. The man was dead, by all scientific reasoning, but Amadeus had long ago learned that some things didn't always work the way you expected them to.

Dirty white hair hung loosely around the mans face, deepening the ever present shadows under his eyes. A gentle breeze played with the ends of his unremarkable travelling cloak.

They stood in front of seven graves. Seven graves, seven bodies, but eight minds, eight friends. Two people had shared one body, as circumstance had demanded at the time. The graves were in the middle of a barren field, cracked earth reaching as far as the eye could see and beyond. A single stone pagoda, half shattered and in disarray, was the only landmark, and was around which the graves were arranged.

Amadeus and the man stood there in silence, each with their own thoughts on times long past. Approaching footsteps caused Amadeus to turn, while the man remained still. “Well well,” Amadeus chuckled when he saw the visitor, “how did you manage to convince your entourage to stay behind?”

“I didn't,” replied the visitor, an old woman, elegantly dressed and with a face wrinkled more from smiling than age. “I still am able to lose people when I feel like it,” she explained. “This old girl still remembers how to have fun.” She turned to address the man. “And how have you been, brother?”

The man sighed, the first sound he'd made in many minutes. “About as well as I've always been, Your Highness.”

“Damnit, brother, I'm your sister, not your Queen, and you damn well know it!” the woman said irritably.

“Very well, Emi-run”

“That's more like it.”

Amadeus was always amazed at how much vitality Emi-run showed in her old age of ninety. Her eyes had lost none of her personality, and she still had the same amount of spunk that she did when they first met, when she was sixteen. They all turned towards the graves then, letting their eyes wander over the engraved names, replaying memories, good and bad. Amadeus lifted his gaze to the sky. It was always green, here. A malevolent green, constantly looking as though on the edge of an immense thunderstorm. It never did rain, let alone storm, and only served to bring more memories to mind.

An hour had passed while the three paid their own silent respects. Amadeus felt a tug on his mind, the call of duty. “I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I must now leave you. Duty calls.”

The man shook his head, disregarding the apology. “Go,” he said, “maybe one of these days you'll finally get around to getting to me.”

Amadeus smiled warmly. He placed a hand on Emi-run's shoulder, and she placed her own hand on top of his. “You go do your thing,” she said. “And if you see the others anytime soon, say `Hey' from me.”

“Will do.” He bowed regally, then dissolved into dust, the wind scattering him until he was no more.

Emi-run and her brother stood a little longer. “I should be getting back, too,” she said at length. “I wouldn't want anyone finding their way to this place.” The man nodded his agreement. She turned to leave, stopping a few steps away. “You should come visit more often, brother. I miss you.” His expressionless face looked at her in answer. She smiled. “I'll be seeing you around. Love ya,” she said with a wink, then resumed walking. Then she was gone.

He turned back towards the graves again. He grasped the sword hilts on his hips, a reminder of who he was, and why he wasn't in one of those graves.

Why didn't you tell them?

“The less they know, the less they can tell.”

You'll have to tell them soon, you know that.

“Yes.”

Well, you usually know what you're doing.

I suppose this means you'll need my help again.

“Perhaps.”

Gah, enough small talk. We know what we've gotta do. Let's do it.

Agreed.

Agreed.

The man stared at the graves a moment longer. “Agreed.” He turned around and walked away, then was gone, leaving the seven graves and their occupants alone under the malevolent green sky.