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Chapter 51: Swear
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 04:00:03 +0000 UTCThe Reaper waited.
Time passed. A second, a minute, an hour. It meant nothing.
Axel stood rooted still. His body trembled. His teeth were gritted.
Every fibre of his body fought against him. His mind screamed at him to move.
To make that final choice. To simply turn his head and let the Reaper’s blade part his neck.
Finally, after an eternity, Axel broke.
“I can’t,” he gasped. “God help me, I can’t. I won’t. I can’t.”
The shame undid him then. His body violently shuddered. Tears ran down his face in near silence.
Gently, the Reaper lifted the blade off his neck.
“You have sinned. The blackest stains mar your soul,” she spoke softly. “But stains alone do not make a monster.”
“Don’t say that,” Axel begged. “You cannot say that. You, above all, know what I have done! You know why I need to die!”
“And yet, you wish to live.”
Axel could not look at her.
“No living creature wants to die. Not truly. Even when in pain. Even when alone.” Her words were sincere, even if they were sad. “Many beg for my blade, but what they truly wanted was the hope of a better life: one where they did not have to suffer. Because they knew there was peace in living, too. They see it in the way others live, the way others smile. To share in the warmth of familial company — A mother’s unconditional love, a child’s innocent laughter, a simple act of sincerity from a stranger. To see the dawn rise, and be happy for a new day of opportunity.
“Yet so many grew to dread the birth of sunrise, for it signalled not new beginnings, but the continuation of familiar suffrage. Those lost souls learned to worship the dark of loneliness. The mere thought of another person loving them became unthinkable.
“And so, they prayed for Death. But almost all kept themselves alive, even when the end was in their hands: one decision away. They fight the battle called living even when they thought it lost… and it is as unsightly as it is beautiful.
A hand fell on his shoulder. It pulled him in, holding him in a hug.
“It is not cowardice to hold one’s head high and fight a battle one does not think can be won,” she whispered. “You will fight, Axel Roukin. You will always fight to live. I will pray for your peace, and should the worst come to pass, know that I will have a place for you by my embrace, where you might rest for all eternity.”
Axel did not know how long he had cried. He had not even thought himself capable of such tears.
But he cried freely then. For the lives he took. For the life he led. And for the death he denied himself.
Painfully, wretchedly, Axel Roukin condemned himself to continue living.
~~~
A long time passed. Axel wasn’t sure how long.
He stayed within his Reaper’s arms, who hugged him with a warmth freely given.
But eventually, the tears ceased. He pulled whatever was left of himself together, forming a semblance of ego and rationality.
The burning fire within him that had been his goal for oblivion was now all but ash. Perhaps the embers that remained might one day grow back into a flame that shall lead him once more to self-destruction.
Or perhaps… If he found something else to burn instead, he might not have to lead himself down that path.
His Empathy called once more, reminding him of who he left behind.
“Better?” the Reaper asked as she released him.
Strangely, he ached for her touch the moment she left him, but Axel pushed himself to focus.
“Lune,” he said numbly. “I still have to go back to her.”
“Then the choice is simple. Accept my offer, and I shall allow you your life once more.”
Axel looked up resolutely. “I will not be your weapon.”
The Reaper cocked her head. “Then you shall simply remain here until such a time comes when you might change your mind. I would not loathe your company.”
“You would have me either be stuck here forever, or turned into your mindless Harbinger?” Axel clenched his hands. “You would have me be made a monster so that your hands remain clean. I thought you were merely supposed to be Executioner, not Judge.”
“Waiting passively for the end of others suits me fine,” she smiled. “But that does not mean I cannot accelerate the means by which the living might be delivered to my peaceful embrace. In particular… There are those who have evaded my love for too long. Those you call Tyrants… Immortal Souls, one and all. A rot in the root of life.”
“Speak plainly. You want me to kill those like the King of the Wild Hunt,” he retorted. “Am I doomed to be an abomination in your honour, then?”
The Reaper chuckled. “You have a choice. That is already more than most — More than what you had for most of your life. I need a killer, it is true. But you need not kill simply because you exist to kill.”
Axel’s instinct was to rage, but something of what she said made him pause. He considered her words carefully.
“... You do not want me to blindly accept,” he realised. “You are telling me to bargain.”
She smiled, but said nothing further.
It was not something he was familiar with. Throughout his life, he had abdicated his freedom of choice. In doing so, he was released of the responsibility of his actions, for a tool — a weapon — could never be blamed for anything.
He had been a coward, frightened of his strength, terrified by the deliverance of choice. But here he was now — free to pursue his life, in whichever way he deemed worthy.
Free to decide how his murderous hands could be given use or purpose. Free to dictate the value of his worth, and trade his service for his own means, rather than slave away in unthinking servitude.
How did the Harbinger, Axel Roukin, want to live?
Do not betray yourself.
He would kill. He would always kill. But if he could at least aim his violence at those that deserved it…
“You spoke of rot earlier,” Axel began. “Immortal Souls… Tyrants whose selfishness lurked in darkness. I would have them vanquished in your name. I would slaughter every single creature that holds true power in the Great Game, and bring some semblance of fairness to the world.”
“The world will not become a fair place because you wish it so,” the Reaper mused. “Evil is relentless.”
“I know. The darkness doesn't end with mere men in power,” Axel replied. His fists were clenched. “I've witnessed the same evil in every living creature — in myself. That omnipotent corrupting force, lurking in the dark corners of sentient hearts.
“It is as you say. Evil… is relentless. So to stop it, I shall be relentless beyond even evil.”
The Reaper chuckled, amused by the notion. Axel’s madness bloomed into certainty.
“Swear to give me life once more, and I shall dedicate my existence to hunting down those that are conceived by the System’s selfishness. Those who dare horde power for themselves and dictate the lives of others from above… All shall die in your name.
“I will butcher the macabre Tyrants that hide from your gaze within the Chaos of the Great Game. Their Immortal Souls shall be delivered unto your Pale hand. No Tyrant shall ever feel safe again for as long as I exist. All shall come to fear my name.
“Swear to me this, and I will give you your Demon of Death.”
Silence. The Pale Rider stood over him upon her balefire steed, her pale shadow silhouetted against the abyss of infinity.
She nodded her head. “I swear.”
A thunderous crack. Unholy fire burned between them.
Like an all-consuming ocean. Like the wild and uncontrollable storm. Even with the boiling of the World’s End in his ear, Axel saw her true form.
Wisps of smoke curling, evening bells toiling, and the savage devourer waiting at the end of all life.
“Now, my turn.”
The Thing that was Death reached for him, her gaze tender, her touch almost shy. “Swear to me now, my Harbinger, that you will hunt every God to the end of their worlds, that you shall never plot against me, that you will bring ruin to all those who dare mock my name.
“Swear you will take no other into your soul, that I will be the foremost in your affections, that you will speak your sincerity to none as you have for me in this moment we share. Swear to me that you’ll be true to our union forever. In good times and bad, to have and to hold, from the first life you claim to the end of stars, through sickness and health, and not even Hell may do us part.
“Swear your love to me, and know that if you dare break my heart, I shall bring an end to your entire species. I will burn humanity to the ground and hang upon your ashes the entrails of all you know. Swear now to me, or never again, knowing that you alone might restrain my madness for all of time, as I shall do for yours.”
Axel closed his eyes. When he opened them once more, the silver in his gaze held no more hesitation.
“I swear.”
She kissed his forehead, and something like a dagger pushed into his skull. A weight settled in his soul, heavier than even the fourteen thousand deaths he carried.
The pain was fleeting. The pain soon pulled away. There was no wound.
But the mark on his soul was complete — as was his on hers.
Bound in unholy matrimony for all of time.
Comments
dr.silas reese
WOOOOO they married
