A DEBT TO BE PAID
Artist: N/A - Song: O death
There will always be a price for power, a debt which is racked up with every passing moment one holds the reigns of it. A debt which raises higher and higher with every choice made while you hold onto that power, of which no gold, gems, or wealth can pay back. There is only one thing which can pay back that debt, a single item which matters more than anything else within this fractured timeline. It was the only constant, the only thing which could not be reclaimed so easily. For each soul was his, and his alone. Perhaps not immediately, but all things must die- and that which dies shall always belong to him.
Until, things started to change. An imbalance. Minor at first, like the noise of a fly which flew close to one's ear before disappearing into the ether. But as time went on, as the world began to change due to the actions of irresponsible mortals- that noise became a flood. In his cold abyss, his peace was disturbed. Sometimes it happened in the past, but always it corrected it's self. Such was the unwritten laws of the world, designed by something which even he had forgotten. Perhaps he had reaped them.
But as the world changed, so his patience grew thin. But there where rules, rules which could not be easily broken. And those rules forbid his direct action, and thus a he had been limited to indirect actions for hundred of years. All set in motion by placing a single vesture of his being within the world, watching as it grew and changed from host to host. Those who possessed it proved to be unique, and worthy, in their own right for the task he needed. But soon, even they fell to the meekness of mortality. They did not inspire him, they did not fulfil his wishes. They where, ultimately, weak.
Until he came along.
A mere pup of war when he first saw the man. A soldier, as they called it, who fought for some ideals. But that was the strange thing about those mortals. Often rushing to their deaths in the name of ideals, and beliefs, while also causing the death of billions. He had thought nothing of the pup when he found a piece of him implanted into him. But as time progressed, as the pup of war became something else- something which he could use, he found an unlikely tool. That which he desired for years, an vassal worthy of enacting his will upon creation. To set right, what was undone.
But why was this mortal worthy of his essence? It was simple. He possessed the strength to wield his power, the ability to shape the world, and held no hesitation to send countless to their deaths. Perhaps it was due to the lawful nature of the man, that he could be entrusted to work within the rules of creation. His obedience. That was perhaps, the greatest determination of what made the young king worthy.
All that was needed was a brief spark, a brief moment where he was allowed to connected with his avatar. Just the briefest of flickering moments, was all it took to set within him the hooks which would bind them. And it came in the most glorious way one would expect, at the epicenter of war and death. In that conflict, where the world witnessed the birth of something that was no longer mortality. The closest the world ever came to witnessing a god be born on earth. A debt, had finally been collected.
It would be many moons later before The King of Vastime, would become cognizant of what truly occurred to him. But such was the time to reveal that he was but a mere cog in a grand plan which had been moving to realization for years.
The sound of a gasp could be heard, echoing through an infinite expanse of darkness. A chill which invaded through the bones of Desmond Hayden. To say it ran through his being would be an understatement, for no amount of willpower or power could remove the intensity of the void he felt around him. No, that was wrong, to call it a void would imply there was nothingness. Instead, it felt more akin to an overwhelming presence, as if he was under the ocean with the entirety of it concentrated on his body. He could not speak, as for the first time in his existence— he felt how truly small he was.
The mortal could only remain on his knees as he felt something primordial around him, something which dated any known idea of time. As emerald eyes seemed to shake briefly as he tried to wrap his mind around this terrifying and foreign feeling. He heard, no that would be wrong, felt whatever entity had reach out to him communicate. But he did not understand it, he could not fathom the words of which it spoke. He felt the annoyance however, how annoyed such an ancient being felt at realizing that he could not be understood. In that moment, Hayden worried that he would be wiped from the sands of time as an ant would by a human flicking them.
But no such strike came, only an intense feeling washing over his entire being as instead of speaking it simply conveyed through some means it's intentions. He could only feel it, no words where spoken- only the tidal wave of emotion and intent. This thing was speaking to him by simply willing
Hayden understood. It was at that moment Hayden's eyes widen, as a simple thought invaded his mind before it echo'd through his body.
Hayden, kneeled, before Death. He was ripped, from his home, into the realm of which Death himself ruled.
And he held no power here.