"Goodbye, Yeong-Hui. Forgive me for having to cut our time here short." Standing near the water fountain, only Azrail and Yeong-Hui were there as the God of Nature was getting prepared to depart with a sorrowful look in his charming periwinkle eyes. Waving away his apology with his right hand, Yeong-Hui gave him a hearty closed-eye smile, his hold on his flute loose as the both of them remained close to one another.

"Don't fret, Azrail. Spare me your apologies—you did nothing wrong! It was that blasted God of Life who should apologize, not you. So, chin up!" Slapping his empty hand on top of Azrail's shoulder, the God of Death winced. Never had he noted that Yeong-Hui had such a firm grip. "Thank you for understanding, but you really must go now before your work piles up to become greater than my waterfall." Hearing a light chuckle come from the somewhat disheartened male, Azrail let out a small grin.

Opening his eyes, Yeong-Hui sighed, his eyes downcast as a sense of hopelessness advanced over his heart. He didn't wish to depart so soon from Azrail; especially when they had so much fun together. "How about I come back for then me and you can dive off your waterfall? Together this time, okay?" Placing his chilly hand on top of Yeong-Hui's, Azrail nodded his head as he maintained eye contact with him.

"Together."

Both of them stared into one another's eyes for a while longer before Azrail looked away. His hold on Yeong-Hui's hand now moved as his hands gripped onto the wiry staff that rested beside him. "Well, you better get going. Farewell." Watching as Yeong-Hui gradually let go of his shoulder, both of them retained eye contact as Yeong-Hui blew his flute, soon fading from his view and domain.

Sighing in disappointment, Azrail turned around and wandered back towards the castle, his steps quiet and slow as the alleviating rhythm of water crashing softened his spirit.

Both Yeong-Hui and Azrail didn't contact each other for months after that because of individual sessions that were composed by the previous gods in order to properly aid them in managing their respective fields which consumed all of their time leaving them limited time to relish in the extravagance of being all-powerful. Birth Mother had reported to Azrail that these lectures would only last for a few weeks as it was to only show them the ropes and a few tips and tricks that were passed down by the retired gods; though for Azrail, all that these 'tips and tricks' had provided him were numerous ploys to serve plagues upon the living to effectively minimize their activity. Which Azrail—who scanned through the old reports of when the ex-god was in management—learned that it worked like a charm.

Lightly lying down a feathered quill, Azrail groaned, letting his head crash harshly on top of his desk as a loud 'thunk' sound was stifled throughout the sumptuous room. Hearing the unpleasant sound, Kallias grieved in his heart as he yearned to ask what was the matter, only to remember that his god was of a higher position than him, and thus he should only speak once asked and or spoken to.

Feeling the timid mood that was radiating from where Kallias stood—which was on the other end of the long desk—Azrail raised his hand nonchalantly and waved him over. Not spoiling another second, Kallias emerged beside him, his head bowed as he maintained his hands politely in front of him. "Yes, my god?" Hoisting his head up, Azrail blankly stared at him, his face detached as he seemed like he wished to knock Kallias with his staff.

"Kallias?"

"Yes, my god?"

"Am I weak?"

Was his god weak? What a preposterous question! Rapidly shaking his head, Kallias spoke with a tenacious fire as his words almost rattled the ground beneath their feet. "My god is the strongest in all the realms! Your power is inexhaustible, with no opponent alive or dead to even be satisfactory enough for you to beseech upon! The earth and skies shudder under your presence-"

"That's... that's not what I meant." Inclining his head to the side in confusion, Kallias stared at Azrail's feet, skeptical of what his god meant. Perhaps he meant mentally? Or emotionally? "My god is the strongest in everything." This reply was the only thing Kallias could find reasonable enough as he was undecided on whether his god was in a foul mood, or worse—was his god influenced so heavily by the imprudent comments from the detestable God of Life?

"If you think that my question to you has any relations to that God of Life, then I am afraid that you are mistaken. No, my question has better meaning behind it than that." Uncoiling his posture, Azrail scratched his cheek as a long sigh slipped past his sumptuous lips. "I just wish to know if I'm strong... physically." Physically? How could his god lack in such an aspect? His god wrestled with the God of Nature, and won! Well, it ended in more of a draw—but in Kallias' heart, his god had triumphed gallantly!

"My god is the strongest physically. My god was able to feud with the God of Nature." Reminding Azrail about his past battle, Azrail chuckled, unsure if he could have even considered that a 'battle'. "I suppose you're right. Here," Pulling out an opened scroll, Azrail passed it to Kallias, his eyes fixed on the rushing waterfall as the slender hands of Kallias tenderly accepted the opener scroll and unraveled it, reading its texts thoroughly.

"I received this by a messenger not long before I approached the castle gates. Evidently, Birth Mother and the ex-gods judged it would be a brilliant plan if all the gods met secretly in pairs and conversed with one another. They considered this would be a superb way to effectively reinforce the bonds of us authoritative gods in order for discord to not befall in the future." Describing to him the contexts in which Kallias had just read, Azrail accepted the scroll back and sloppily crammed it inside one of his infinite cabinets.

Watching as the opened scroll disappeared, Kallias still bore a troubled expression. How did this connect to his god's previous question? As if reading his mind Azrail opened his mouth and said: "Not long after I was given this note I had recalled some circumstances that occurred during my living life, and it had me thinking of wanting to become strong. Well, I'm strong now, but the ambition to become powerful is still there. Don't mull over this petty thing too much, Kallias. Just a slip of the tongue." Disregarding their earlier discussion, Azrail placed his hand where his necklace was settled—right underneath his jade-like collarbone.

"You can retire now." Bowing his head in understanding, Kallias shuffled away from him and opened the doors, giving Azrail a ceremonial farewell before closing the doors gently. Slumping down on his chair, Azrail plucked out the opened scroll and read it repeatedly. His gaze concentrated as the words that the God of Life spat at him not long ago soon came to mind.

Was it true that he could no longer consider himself 'people', but a god? That has been his identity all his life, and that identity had always offered him a minor sense of belonging, but now- shaking his head, a low chuckle escaped his throat as he glumly stared down at the scroll. Why should that matter? So what if he was no longer human? To be honest, Azrail wasn't sure why this troubled him, that he was now some alien to the species that he would always relate to.

Yeah, he was different now. Just like he had always been. Freezing once he realized something, Azrail moved a hand up to his chin and twirled his chair around, the view of his office a blur as everything seemed to spiral with one another, blending in, creating a peculiar sight. Was he having an existential crisis?

Surely enough, he was. Though was he working to acknowledge and or try to work through it? No. Halting his chair with his right foot, Azrail hopped away from his desk and peacefully strode towards the double doors, opening them wide with his staff as he walked through and down the broad halls. There were very few places around the castle that had windows with most of the open places being made open just for granting in the moonlight, which Azrail thought to be a brilliant idea. He always preferred open-concept houses. The vibration of his footsteps was faint with the 'tap' sound of his staff the only thing announcing his existence.

Scanning the halls as he wandered down its path, Azrail grew bored—only for a thought to come to his mind. This was his castle, yet he hadn't explored most of its structure. He was already finished with his work for that day, so exploring around the castle grounds wouldn't do much harm, now would it? Now with more purpose on every step, Azrail coolly strolled down numerous uncharted halls as he passed by tapestries of illustrated death and all of that sort, as he no longer found there much to gape at in that. Why would he when there was always a representation of death in every hall?

Turning a corner, Azrail stopped short as he saw a door with a sketch of an arrow pointing downwards etched on the steel door. Skimming around the walls that lead to this mystical door, Azrail found there to be no depictions of death or anything, as it was only a bland gray color; this made Azrail speculate if such a dreary and lifeless color was purposefully chosen? Taking in the scene for a moment longer, Azrail shrugged his shoulders and walked down the hall, and he could no longer hear the reverberating sound of the waterfall.

Peering down towards the looped steel handle, Azrail placed a hand on it and turned it, pulling the door open as it swung soundlessly. Poking his head out, Azrail froze in shock as he now figured out that the mysterious door lead to the outside near the waterfall, with a covered path leading towards a modest architecture that was isolated from the rest of the castle. Wanting to examine the unknown, remote building, Azrail peered over his shoulder to make sure that Kallias was nowhere near, and thankfully—he wasn't. Placing a foot forward, Azrail tested if the pathway was stable, and admiringly, it was. Nodding in satisfaction, Azrail stepped out of the hallway and trudged down the path, soon arriving at the burgundy door that lead to the inside of the enigmatic building.

Staring down at where the handle should be, Azrail groaned as he saw that there wasn't anything to open the door with; not a handle, and not even a lever. All that there was etched on the door was where the lock was showing the keyhole. At this discouraging sight, Azrail glanced back, unsure of how to progress. He couldn't just break-in. Well, he could try-

Hauling back his fist as smoke arose from his knuckles, Azrail grimaced in agony as he glowered at where he punched the structure, only to find there was nothing different about it. Nothing had been damaged by his punch; which he was well aware now that he is stronger than any human could ever imagine. Glancing down at where the water was sinking, Azrail found he was higher than he had formerly thought. Way, way up. Gulping, Azrail hurriedly looked away from the sight and instead lay his finger on top of the keyhole, preferring to feel it before he left.

Right before he was ready to pull back his hand, did a key develop from his finger and implant itself into the keyhole, twisting itself as the door glowed a rich light before the sound of a 'click' was heard. And now, the mysterious door was unlocked. 

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ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ!

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