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She was dead. She was actually dead. The old hag had actually kicked her sister’s bucket over.

He couldn’t believe it.

He had been gone for a long while, avoiding beast and man alike, thus he knew nothing about the state of Death. Elisie, the one who had been sent as his guide, hadn’t given him any sign of Death’s passing but he should’ve known something was wrong when the strange dove’s babbles stopped [they usually never stopped] for a moment before they resumbled but in a hushed tone.

Mephistopheles didn’t know how to quite react to it at first. The news. He had only found out because he grew tired of raw game and wished for something more refined. Thus they had made their way towards a settlement and there he could see kukuri and man alike gathering en masse in what seemed to be a festival. Yet unlike a typical festival, the mood was somber like a funeral.

It had only been when he was trying to scour for a vendor that wouldn’t run away at the sight of him did he finally snap and stoop low to speak the tongue of the body he inhabited. Getting the answer from a nearby kukuri did he find out that Death had died, killed by Life in the past autumn after her carnival. He hadn’t been numb, nor had he been sad or angry when he heard it, if any he was indifferent as if he had just heard that the roach that had been terrorizing his bathroom had been killed.

Shapes flew overhead as the demon looked up, wings. Several pairs of them.

“Tch.” The raven rooked growled lowly as he left behind the black-eyed dove that served as his guide and hurried towards the center of the festival where the large carefully carved statue of Death stood.

He snapped and pushed away bodies of beast and man alike to get to the center and there he saw them, the eight aerials, the eight winged children of Death. Even in this world there were angels.

‘How great.’ He mused boredly, more arrogant and overgrown poultry to argue with.

“You there! You look familiar, come over here!” His short ears twitched as he heard a rough female voice call out to him.

Swiveling his head towards its source, its owner was not someone quite remembered by him but she looked familiar.

“Did the old bird not teach you how to refer to a superior?” Mephistopheles pointed out smoothly, staring with narrowed eyes at the female aerial.

“Did she not teach you how to address one of Her children?” The aerial spat back “Do you not recognize me?” She grinned “Because I recognize you, Mephistopheles of House La Marck, Lord of the North.”

And just like that, the identity of the dove talking to him came to him. Of course! He should’ve had recognized her by her spotted look and those feathers, he couldn’t believe her voice didn’t give it away.

“Nakia, always so good to see you-” The demon crooned out, ears lowering as he feigned apology. The urge to grin and show his fangs to her was strong temptation but one he would fight it. Stupid chicken used to have the power to end his contract with Death if she so chose.

Used to...Not any more. Right, the old bird had kicked the bucket.

“--Is what I would say if I was one of those pathetic followers of beasts and brutes that you care for.”

“And yet you gave up so much just to take on the form of one of those so called beasts.” Nakia coldly retorted, a large ear giving a twitch.

Mephistopheles let out a low growl, his lips starting to curl back.

“You know not who you trifle with.” He warned as the aerial began to unfurl and spread her wings. A bluff.

Nakia bared her fangs at him.

“I could say the same about you. Unlike you, we as beasts at least know how to mourn the dead. Lady Death should have never helped you if you were going to disrespect her like so.”

Mephistopheles snapped at the aerial, causing the kukuri to hop back as the raven rook could feel more and more pairs of eyes from the festival goers landing on him. Hushed whisperings and questions of why he was attacking one of Death’s children.

“How I treat her and why she agreed to my request is none of your concern mortal.” He spat out as Nakia narrowed her eyes.

“Mortal yet I will have everything you wish you had.” The aerial coldly stated “All we wish for is to bring balance back. I was merely curious to see how you fared but I have wasted enough time as is talking to the likes of you. Others require my presence and that of Lady Death’s.”

She lifted her wings, silver claws glinting in the dying light as Mephistopheles let out a hiss.

“Yet you continued to speak like a fool and to stroke my ire! That is none of what you listed.” He shook his head, staring up at the stone statue in front of him as the aerial soon flew off.

“Damn chicken.” The rook hissed out as he heard familiar babbling growing louder as it neared him. Soon the ghostly pale form of Elisie came out of the busy stalls and towards him, the pairs of eyes that had been on him were now on her.

Blue eyes stared at the statue, nostril snorting be he turned away. He perhaps had been considering something to give, to say but Nakia had destroyed anything of the sorts. Who was she to speak about his circumstance.

Who was she at all.

Description

She was dead. She was actually dead. The old hag had actually kicked her sister’s bucket over.

He couldn’t believe it.

He had been gone for a long while, avoiding beast and man alike, thus he knew nothing about the state of Death. Elisie, the one who had been sent as his guide, hadn’t given him any sign of Death’s passing but he should’ve known something was wrong when the strange dove’s babbles stopped [they usually never stopped] for a moment before they resumbled but in a hushed tone.

Mephistopheles didn’t know how to quite react to it at first. The news. He had only found out because he grew tired of raw game and wished for something more refined. Thus they had made their way towards a settlement and there he could see kukuri and man alike gathering en masse in what seemed to be a festival. Yet unlike a typical festival, the mood was somber like a funeral.

It had only been when he was trying to scour for a vendor that wouldn’t run away at the sight of him did he finally snap and stoop low to speak the tongue of the body he inhabited. Getting the answer from a nearby kukuri did he find out that Death had died, killed by Life in the past autumn after her carnival. He hadn’t been numb, nor had he been sad or angry when he heard it, if any he was indifferent as if he had just heard that the roach that had been terrorizing his bathroom had been killed.

Shapes flew overhead as the demon looked up, wings. Several pairs of them.

“Tch.” The raven rooked growled lowly as he left behind the black-eyed dove that served as his guide and hurried towards the center of the festival where the large carefully carved statue of Death stood.

He snapped and pushed away bodies of beast and man alike to get to the center and there he saw them, the eight aerials, the eight winged children of Death. Even in this world there were angels.

‘How great.’ He mused boredly, more arrogant and overgrown poultry to argue with.

“You there! You look familiar, come over here!” His short ears twitched as he heard a rough female voice call out to him.

Swiveling his head towards its source, its owner was not someone quite remembered by him but she looked familiar.

“Did the old bird not teach you how to refer to a superior?” Mephistopheles pointed out smoothly, staring with narrowed eyes at the female aerial.

“Did she not teach you how to address one of Her children?” The aerial spat back “Do you not recognize me?” She grinned “Because I recognize you, Mephistopheles of House La Marck, Lord of the North.”

And just like that, the identity of the dove talking to him came to him. Of course! He should’ve had recognized her by her spotted look and those feathers, he couldn’t believe her voice didn’t give it away.

“Nakia, always so good to see you-” The demon crooned out, ears lowering as he feigned apology. The urge to grin and show his fangs to her was strong temptation but one he would fight it. Stupid chicken used to have the power to end his contract with Death if she so chose.

Used to...Not any more. Right, the old bird had kicked the bucket.

“--Is what I would say if I was one of those pathetic followers of beasts and brutes that you care for.”

“And yet you gave up so much just to take on the form of one of those so called beasts.” Nakia coldly retorted, a large ear giving a twitch.

Mephistopheles let out a low growl, his lips starting to curl back.

“You know not who you trifle with.” He warned as the aerial began to unfurl and spread her wings. A bluff.

Nakia bared her fangs at him.

“I could say the same about you. Unlike you, we as beasts at least know how to mourn the dead. Lady Death should have never helped you if you were going to disrespect her like so.”

Mephistopheles snapped at the aerial, causing the kukuri to hop back as the raven rook could feel more and more pairs of eyes from the festival goers landing on him. Hushed whisperings and questions of why he was attacking one of Death’s children.

“How I treat her and why she agreed to my request is none of your concern mortal.” He spat out as Nakia narrowed her eyes.

“Mortal yet I will have everything you wish you had.” The aerial coldly stated “All we wish for is to bring balance back. I was merely curious to see how you fared but I have wasted enough time as is talking to the likes of you. Others require my presence and that of Lady Death’s.”

She lifted her wings, silver claws glinting in the dying light as Mephistopheles let out a hiss.

“Yet you continued to speak like a fool and to stroke my ire! That is none of what you listed.” He shook his head, staring up at the stone statue in front of him as the aerial soon flew off.

“Damn chicken.” The rook hissed out as he heard familiar babbling growing louder as it neared him. Soon the ghostly pale form of Elisie came out of the busy stalls and towards him, the pairs of eyes that had been on him were now on her.

Blue eyes stared at the statue, nostril snorting be he turned away. He perhaps had been considering something to give, to say but Nakia had destroyed anything of the sorts. Who was she to speak about his circumstance.

Who was she at all.