There are many he sees more than once, of course. He sees everyone, eventually. It's common for many to be gathered around someone whose time has come to an end - either for love or for hatred. He remembers them, all, even as they all blur into one in his mind. But the meeting? The meeting is once and over with. Quick. Cold, some say (accuse).
Exceptions are rare. Maybe this is what makes them stand out.
He remembers this one. Twice over, now, was he meant to go. Twice over, now, has he stayed right here. He'd think it to be some form of divine favor, perhaps. An Olympian up on their high seat taking notice or pity. Except there is nothing here quite so exceptional to get their attention, he doesn't think. His relatives tend to be rather picky and this one has yet to accomplish anything quite worth their eye. Besides, they're rather unsubtle.
...Just fortune, then.
And fortune always runs out.
Perhaps it's impassive, the way he looks down at the figure on the floor. Certainly from the boy's perspective, if he even has it in him still to look up. The truth is, of course, that death is not cold or cruel, even if it doesn't feel quite so at the moment. It simply is.
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There are many he sees more than once, of course. He sees everyone, eventually. It's common for many to be gathered around someone whose time has come to an end - either for love or for hatred. He remembers them, all, even as they all blur into one in his mind. But the meeting? The meeting is once and over with. Quick. Cold, some say (accuse).
Exceptions are rare. Maybe this is what makes them stand out.
He remembers this one. Twice over, now, was he meant to go. Twice over, now, has he stayed right here. He'd think it to be some form of divine favor, perhaps. An Olympian up on their high seat taking notice or pity. Except there is nothing here quite so exceptional to get their attention, he doesn't think. His relatives tend to be rather picky and this one has yet to accomplish anything quite worth their eye. Besides, they're rather unsubtle.
...Just fortune, then.
And fortune always runs out.
Perhaps it's impassive, the way he looks down at the figure on the floor. Certainly from the boy's perspective, if he even has it in him still to look up. The truth is, of course, that death is not cold or cruel, even if it doesn't feel quite so at the moment. It simply is.
And he is nothing if not patient.]
...No further, I don't think.
[Is it to himself or the human? Uncertain.]