A man with tanned skin, black coloured eyes and hair wearing a long black Chesterfield coat tattered beyond repair, white linen shirt stained with blood, vest and trousers of the same colour filled with holes, grazed button black shoes, and ripped foster laced gloves lie still in dark waters that enfold him; drowning as though left in the mercy of such waters. His weary eyes stayed focused on what was beyond the surface and it was light - slowly fading as the waters dragged him deeper.
"The way this relentless cold that crawls at every inch of my skin, water that fills my lungs as I breath, the deafening sound of such silence next to my ears, and this light that's blinding yet comforts me in my plight."
"These feels all too familiar... this is death.
In his final moments, a figure slowly approached from the light and it was not by his vision that saw it but rather a memory that played in his mind. There he saw a lady with long golden hair like the sun, emerald pupils shily hidden at the squint of her eyes, and red rosey cheeks bearing an innocent and yet playful smile. Memories then played in succession before it suddenly cut into black.
Into the darkness, there echoed a raspy voice singing a lullaby - gentle, soothing, and calming in which he felt at ease. When light began to reappear to his eyes, he was met with its blinding radiance and left him to squint at its intensity; as though unfamiliar to the exposure of such light. With an obscured vision, it reflected a woman's raddled expression with an ailing body. He was then greeted with a sudden embrace while shuddering in relief and it was warm enough to purge the cold that he felt in his wake. In response, his left hand tightly grasped the woman's hair that enveloped it. Tears then began to fall on his forehead and was startled by her resigned laughter. Frail and small like a child, his right hand gently reaches out and touched the lady's left cheek; comforting her before finally closing his eyes.
In his thoughts, it played the words he wanted to tell her. "When we were young, I imagined what our future holds for us. In a matter of time we would've gotten married in this age if not for this war. But as the world heals - it will grow flowers like you and then our child would bloom to be the most beautiful in the world.
"I never thought it would turn out this way. So I hope to live with you again and love the same. If only we were different people, not chosen nor burdened by that fateful night... The night of my first death."
That night, as describedbyLayne Sinclair was a series of unfortunate events leading to their demise that forever changed their fate.
In the era of one thousand eight hundrer forty-two, it was cruel to those that marry for love with a difference in status and it wasespecially difficult for Layne Sinclair and to the noble lady whom he loved. There were mockeries and acts of aggression from both nobles and servants as if such disdain was justified; a stigma of such era that cut out its rose and let its thorns bloom in its stead - an inevitable finality that made the two fled their house to seek peace for their love that bore fruit.
During dawn on the thirteenth of February of the same year, they decided to flee in secrecy with the help of a few that favored them and seek refuge from the far outskirts of the North where they are impalpable to the authority and power of central nobility. As predicted, pursuers were dispatched on their tail and swiftly gained a few steps behind them.
In the morning they travel light between the shades of nature and in the evening they hid inside villages or grouped together with pilgrims while relying on the know-how of Layne. Their plans were few steps ahead but it was inevitably foiled by an unpresedented storm out of its season. It boasted its strong winds and rain where attempting an escape through the night would not guarantee safety. Its cold winds and heavy rain veiled the night in black, yet the two fled in horseback anyway - the lady at the front and the man at the back reining a shire horse he traded for a sum of silver coins. Pursuers caught on and sent blood hounds to track them.
With their bodies soaked in the rain and their condition worsening by the hour due to the long journey and short rests, fatigue was inevitable. The lady however, was in a much worse state as her temperature rose unexpectedly. The man then decided to stop on the side of a mountain where cover was possible, a small cave perhaps. In a short while, he made a make-shift cover with branches, vines, and leaves to shield them from the rain and cold. The lady was indeed sick but she was able to ingest some beef jerky before resting. A problem arose when the man reached for his belt and felt that his medicine pouch was torn and dropped most of its contents; especially the Dover's Powder for treating colds. There he decided to make a Mustard Plaster as a remedy, but first he needed a mustard tree for its seeds.
He left a portable oil lamp dim, a note in case the lady searches for the man, a leather water pouch, a pre-heated cloth placed on her forehead and his hastily dried chesterfield black coat laid on top to provide warmth. As he moved to find a mustard tree, he left small markings on the toe of every passing tree. Quarter of an hour had passed and finally found the tree he needed. About fourteen meters from his position however, was where the blood hounds lie searching. The instance he understood, swiftly he took the seeds and left silently just before the pursuers arrived. Luckily, the heavy rain and strong wind masked his scent but not completely. Minutes passed and one of the hounds caught on to a scent leading to the mustard tree bearing faint markings and left with a freshly ripped off branch. The hounds slowly revealed the markings and there they knew where to find them. Another quarter of time passed and the eye of the storm slowly approached the mountain. The man came rushing back to the lady and made the plaster in haste. He applied it haphazardly and awoken the lady. There he explained their situation and swiftly prepared to move but they were caught off guard by a loud sound resembling that of thunder.
"BANG!" The sound echoed from miles away and blood began to stain Layne's upper garment as his torso was pierced by a bullet next to his left kidney. At a distance roughly about two hundred eighty yards, the shot was clean using a musket worthy of a marksman. Layne with his adrenaline left pumping however, persevered and ran with the lady; leaving all their belongings except for a wooden stick he snatched and used as a cane which helped him move even with a wound severe enough to render a man immobile. With their speed slowing by the minute, they were eventually cornered with three blood hounds persistently pouncinh on them but Layne kept them at an arms distance using the cane he was holding. They were then pushed to the edge of the mountain and a cliff was at their forefront. Five men appeared at the back of the hounds with four of which were holding a musket issued only for the military and the other that dressed galantly held a pistol on a concealed hoster inside his coat. A noble, maybe.
The eye of the storm was about to pass when the lady came up front - shielding Layne while begging in tears to spare the man. She agreed to come with them as long as he was unharmed; however, Layne noticed the gaze of the nobleman while the lady pleaded. Moments after, the cliff was lit in moonlight - setting the stage and there the expression of the nobleman was visible. His eyes were as if hollowed, his face held a smirk stretching almost ear to ear, and his gaze exuded pleasure as if enjoying their demise. As the moonlight gleamed briefly on the pursuers, it revealed that the nobleman was aiming a twenty-eight caliber Colt Paterson revolver at the lady.
It terrified her as she knew the nobleman and that he ment to pull the trigger. Again a loud thunder echoed on the mountain. Blood stained the lady's dress and as she feared, it was not hers but Layne's. In a second's notice, they swapped by him pulling her weight and propelling hs body upfront, shielding her from the bullet. With its strong impact, it propelled them towards the cliff and fell. They were then carried by the current that the storm brought about and the pursuers, still not convinced of their death continued to search down the stream. The lady was conscious and was barely holding on to Layne's weak body as they were being swept by the strong current. Luckily, a fallen tree stuck inside a cave caught them; and there they settled.
Now, The night mentioned by Layne was dated on the third of March of the same year with the storm yet again hurling its heavy rain and strong winds; destroying the surrounding areas leaving them stranded inside the cave. Five minutes have passed and the strong wind coursed inside the cave, sprinkling the rain on the face of the lady now covered in bruises with her tattered dark blue coloured tarlatan dress stained with blood. The whistling of the wind and rumbling of the river masked her cries, numbing their pursuers of their traces. The storm was relentless even to them and thus they held back their search - giving time to the lady and Layne in the brink of death.
The lady was hopeless, as the man she love is left for dead on her warm embrace. His coughs were erratic yet silent, muffled by the disgorge of blood caused by a gun shot fatality on his chest. As moments passed, his breathe slowly lost strength and Layne knew his time and it was time to let go. His eyes slowly shifted to the lady's and saw a young lass turn into a wonderful woman that he admire and love. The lady, startled by his expression was helpless as she knew what was meant without a word muttered - a smile familiar only to her.
"No, no, no..." She whispered in denial. "We'll get through this so please hang on a little longer." the lady was left to prepare as all she could do was to keep her hands locked in pressure on his wound with a bloodied rag - a piece of her dress.
With silence that filled the next moment, memories began to appear as they both locked eye to eye; bringing a smile from the lady and seemingly familiar to Layne and he was pleased.
"With everything that's happened, I don't regret what i chose because it's you. Leaving my family was the best thing that had happened to me and no matter what, nothing is ever going to change that."
The withered eyes of the lady, yet again flowed with tears and gently rained down on his now pale cheeks. With his remaining strength, he slowly raised his right hand and wiped the tears on her red rosey cheeks. She then held his wavering hand and silently cherished their moment.
As he took his last breath, the world suddenly fell into silence. The howling of the wind and rumbling of the river came to a pause as if time had stopped. It was the unexplainable fear of the lady that came after his death, and death itself draw nigh.
Darkness engulfed the cave and the sky glittered with stars were covered by a shadow that began to fill the canvas of the night. Footsteps emerged from silence and echoed inside the cave with dangling sounds of metal that followed. A shadow emerged from the mist with a slim figure covered by a veil of black and towering to almost eight feet tall. It wore a white silhouette mask resembling that of a skull with its lower jaw missing and a nimbus that glowed in blue and purple. It held a double edge black scythe with its dulled blade in the shape of a crescent moon while mounted with four silver rings on its back blade.
The lady, stunned by fear could not comprehend the sudden shift of pressure. Tightly, she held on Layne's carcass and closed her eyes as it approached. The shadow, now standing in front began to look down not on her, but to the lifeless man resting on her lap. She understood that it was Death, and that Death came for the man. She held him tightly and as if becoming mad, she broke through her senses and glared at its visage. Death turned its gaze towards her and was amused as it saw the eyes of a lady with a strong radiance of light emanating from her spirit alone. Overshadowed, death was surprised.
"P-please... don't take him from me! I'll give you anything you want... even my life if I have to... I ask for your benevolence, please give him back to me." The lady pleaded in desperation.
Her radiance in the eyes of Death made it pause for a moment and shortly after, it longed for something that it was missing.
Frightening as it may be, Death spoke with different voices overlapping each other. "I am Death and not Life. I am always the one taking and not giving."
"There are rules in this world that cannot be bent... But if you so wish, I'll make you an exception. I will bind you with the dead man a curse - you shall be his source of life, and he will be so as mine. For I cannot give Life, but I will take mine in his stead."
"DO BEAR THIS IN MIND: he shall live as an omen to humanity - bringing death to all that surrounds him and burdened by the duty as the one who takes. All that I ask is for you to show me a glimpse of Life on your inevitable death, oh lamb of the Abundance."
In her desperation, she answered with a resigned smile, agreeing to such conditions. "I shall offer half of my life for his. To live and see him again is all i want; even if i am to die sooner."
"Then it shall be done." Death spoke in a soft tone and bowed with utmost respect.
Death morphed its scythe into a cane made of Malacca wood with an opera handle coloured in black where its shorter end is mounted by four coin sized rings. Death gathered Layne's soul in a form of a black misty stone and slowly raised the cane before hitting the ground with great strength. Then the combined sound of a thump by the cane and ringin of the metals echoed like a ripple. As if commanded, a gust of wind compressed the mist around Death - becoming denser and darker. The pressure started to shake the cave, yet Death unaffected by such began a ritual. Chanting words unknown to man and forbidden to the world.
As such, the earth trembled, bells followed with erratic tolls, and whispers of origin began to shout aloud. Beings unknown, heard such orchestra and became overzealous because the world turned a blind eye to such defiance. Alas it was justified that it was time that of disobedience.
As the world was trembling and wailing, Death stretched its right arm and forcefully shoved it inside its chest, taking out a blackened heart composed of condensed fog and darkness with a tint of blue and red. Death held the lady's right hand and placed the blackened heart with the stone on top. It then raised her hand and spoke of a cursed spell. The lady, despite being close to death heard nothing at all, as if the world covered her ears except for the words bearing weight and familiar to her: "For you, I shall give Life."
The lady was stunned and for some reason the birth mark with a rough shape of the sun behind her neck began to burn and glow. She then let out a loud cry as energy from her body flowed towards the blackened heart - mixing with the soul and the mist that envelops it. The more it absorbed, the more the lady weakened but the once lifeless heart began to beat and regain its colour.
Death then took the heart from the lady's hand and moved towards the body. It crushed the heart slowly - bleeding like blood, yet flowed like condensed smoke bearing the colour of scarlet red with a pinch of glitter. It began to fill the dead man's chest and faintly, the mist surrounding Death started to disperse.
With the last drop from the heart, it slowly faded into darkness and Death did so followed; leaving only the cane behind. The world, now without the concept of Death continued to shake and wail that the cave started to collapse. The river, strong enough to break the mouth of the cave started to flood. Debris began to fall but the lady tried to pull Laynd out of the cave even in her weakened and sickly state. Slowly, they moved but when they were a few feet closer to the mouth, debris of different sizes fell and some strucked her by the temple; rendering her unconscious. The lady was closer to the mouth of the cave and was swept by the strong current. While Laynd on the other hand, was swallowed by the cave-in. Separating them both and yet connected through Death and then came Life.