Chapter 14 Dance with Death

As the farewell gestures of Gorion and Jason faded into the distance, Rafael found himself abruptly transported by Death to an otherworldly realm—a desolation that defied description.

The ground beneath was draped in a dreary grey, scattered with decaying trees and forming grotesque heaps of animal remains. The air hung heavy with the noxious stench of death, so polluted that even sunlight failed to pierce through the thick atmospheric murk. In this desolate panorama, signs of life were utterly absent.

Caught in fits of wheezing, Rafael gasped for meager breaths, and amid this struggle, he queried Death,

Rafael: "What is this place?"

Death: "This is where our training shall unfold, a realm carefully chosen to prevent unintentional consequences—what your kind terms collateral damage"

Rafael "*Gasp* That makes sense *Gasp*, but how am I Gasp supposed to train here *Gasp* when I can't even breathe?"

Death: “Oh yes, you are one of the wind guys. The pollutants in the air would bother a whole lot more than anybody else. Also, you’d be considerably weakened”

Smirking at Rafael's plight, Death, the harbinger of mortality, snapped his fingers, and a sudden change in the air allowed Rafael to breathe freely. Grateful, Rafael drew in rapid and deep breaths of relief.

Rafael: "I understand all that, but how can we possibly train in such conditions?"

Death: "Well, consider this your inaugural lesson. Purify the air around you. The incantation I've woven into you will endure for approximately 24 hours. Cleanse your immediate surroundings sufficiently to engage in combat. Here's a hint: elemental magic will be your key."

Rafael: "Purify the air? Why do I keep being surprised by the insane tasks being thrown at me?" questioned Rafael.

Death: "You didn't expect me to spoon-feed you, did you? I've given you a task and a hint on how to complete it; that should be sufficient. Now, cease your whining. Do you know a unique ability that sub-elements possess?"

Rafael: "No."

Death: "Sub-elements are called companions because they harbor the ability to project their diminutive manifestations from within you into the tangible world. I can physically be present to train you."

Rafael: "Oh! That's cool."

Death: "So, in 24 hours, we engage in combat."

Rafael: "Geez, another fight with Death"

Rafael exclaimed, breaking the silence that followed. Death, however, remained silent, prompting Rafael to quickly immerse himself in the task at hand. His year of training under Gorion had instilled in him the urgency of time—a valuable lesson that time swiftly slips away when focused on a task.

Recognizing the impossibility of cleansing the entire air of this desolate realm, Rafael erected a barrier with a radius of 500 meters. Much like Gorion's earlier barrier, this one would be impervious to the tainted air that surrounded them.

Hygiene concerns thwarted Rafael's initial inclination to sit in his customary pose, legs crossed, hands on knees, eyes closed. Instead, he floated in the air, eyes closed, attempting to initiate a meditative state in hopes that inspiration might strike.

As Rafael pondered the application of elemental magic to remedy the contaminated atmosphere, a revelation dawned upon him.

Rafael: "Of course. I am such an idiot. Everything has energy. Everything has its soul."

Opening his eyes, Rafael concentrated his energy, discerning the various energies permeating the air around him. The realization spurred him into action. Infusing himself with earth energy, Rafael attuned himself to the very essence of the ground. He felt the dust particles, pollutants, and unburnt carbon in the air. With a commanding gesture, he stilled the particles, forming a fist and compelling them to descend to the ground.

Although the air remained far from breathable, the suffocation that initially gripped Rafael had dissipated. Undeterred, he tackled the next challenge. Infusing himself with earth energy, he commanded the ground to cleave open and inter the mountains of deceased animals, hopeful that the burial would initiate decomposition.

Transitioning to wind energy, Rafael expelled the lingering poisonous gases from within the protective barrier. The meticulous cleansing process within the 500-meter radius took nearly 18 hours. Fatigue settling in, Rafael decided to rest for the remaining 6 hours.

During this respite, Rafael remained awake, opting for a different approach to utilize his time. With eyes closed, he harmonized with each element, absorbing their energies. The ring on his finger contributed a steady influx of energy, gradually saturating his being. Maintaining control over his breath and heart rate, he navigated the storm of energy within—a tempest threatening to erupt, kept at bay until a distant thunderclap heralded the end of his rest.

Sensing Death's punctuality, Rafael's unease intensified. The looming presence of Death, with its skeletal reaper form, reignited the childhood fears of facing a colossal skeleton bound to a 'X' in his recurring dreams. The apprehension compelled Rafael to look up, swallowing hard, as the chilling reality of Death's gaze weighed heavily on his trembling form.

Death stood imposingly; a towering 12-foot skeleton draped in purple robes with a hood shrouding his bony visage. In his right hand, he gripped a scythe, its once-shining cross, now dull and inverted, strapped to his chest like a pendant. An hourglass tethered to his waist completed his ensemble. However, a noticeable difference caught Rafael's attention this time—protruding through Death's robes were bony wings, adding an eerie and unexpected dimension to the Grim Reaper's appearance.

Rafael's scrutiny then shifted to Death's scythe, and the realization of its colossal scale dawned on him. The blade extended far beyond Death's skull, its curved edge terminating just above his hollow eyes. From the scythe's tip, tiny sparks coalesced, forming the words 'The Grim.' The irony of the inscription almost prompted Rafael to chuckle, considering Death's appearance as an identity card in itself.

Death: "I see you have made preparations. Commendable job on cleaning the air enough for yourself, but are you sure you are ready to face me?"

While acknowledging the futility of victory, Rafael replied defiantly

Rafael: "Oh, I know I have no chances of winning this battle, but I am going to give my all. This is just a test of my skills, after all, isn't it?"

Death: "Well, that's the spirit. Let's make things interesting, shall we? Fighting is always more fun with a purpose. I shall not use my right hand at all. The very first step of your training would be to make me use both of my hands while fighting you."

Summoning a sword into existence, Rafael chose a simple blade created from energy. Unfazed by the peculiarities of his mentors, he grew weary of their consistent patterns. The time for words had concluded, and Rafael, disenchanted, took action.

Charging towards Death with full speed, Rafael swung his sword with unbridled force. Death, surprisingly agile for his massive scythe, deftly parried Rafael's blows. The rhythmic exchange between the two persisted, with Rafael striking and Death effortlessly parrying, akin to swatting an annoying fly. Fatigued by Death's repetitive antics, Rafael grew weary of the games and showmanship.

During a parry, Rafael altered his tactic. An upward swing, coupled with a surge of wind energy, considerably increased the speed of his blow. The sword struck Death's scythe sooner than anticipated, causing the scythe to be wrenched from Death's hand and sent soaring through the air.

Experience proved its worth as Death swiftly recovered, retaliating with a forceful downward swing. The advantage of Death's scythe was evident; even after a parry, its tip remained dangerously close to Rafael's head. Reacting promptly, Rafael leaped backward, narrowly avoiding a perilous strike.

Rafael: "Phew, that was close”

Rafael exhaled, relief washing over him.

Death: "Good work; I really wasn't expecting that from you."

The realization struck Rafael — the same trick wouldn't work on Death again. A need for a more varied approach loomed, pushing him to develop new strategies soon.

Resuming their clash, they engaged in a relentless exchange, parrying attacks from every direction like a frenetic whirlwind of sword and scythe. Rafael's frustration grew, heightened by a gnawing fatigue. Summoning a final surge of energy, Rafael attacked with renewed vigor. Allowing the polluted air to infiltrate the barrier, the surroundings blurred. Within minutes, visibility plummeted by 90%, yet Rafael pressed on, guided by the glint of Death's scythe.

With a battle cry, Rafael leaped and descended upon Death, timing his strike with the upward swing of Death's scythe. The blades collided, and a triumphant smile graced Rafael's face.

Death: "I've got you now."

Channeling the stored Earth energy, Rafael felt his limbs grow sluggish as he utilized the power to make Death sink into the decayed ground. Unyielding, Rafael further shattered the ground with his feet, intensifying the pollution. Reduced to almost zero visibility, Rafael played his last card — summoning a blade of fire, its color blending seamlessly with the air due to concentrated heat.

Releasing the Earth energy and infusing lightning into his arm, Rafael thrust the fiery sword at Death's chest. Time seemed to slow as Death turned toward the impending blade. Rafael fancied he saw a hint of admiration, a glimpse of pride on Death's bony face. Just as the blade was about to pierce, Death intervened, grabbing the blade with his right hand and hurling Rafael and the fiery sword away.

Crashing to the ground, Rafael tasted blood, felt the ache of his ribs, and suspected he might have broken bones. Weakened, he managed to stand, facing Death. With a snap of Death's fingers, the polluted air dissipated, relieving Rafael. Despite the pain, it hurt less than before, and the metallic tang of blood vanished.

Death: "At ease, young Rafael. You did well. The entire plan was well-concocted, beautifully carried out. Using Earth energy to manipulate the ground, concealing a fiery blade, and leveraging the speed of lightning — a well-executed sequence to throw me off. Well played, indeed."

Rafael: "Thanks, Death."

Death: "What's the matter? It was a good battle. You achieved what many could never in their entire life, and yet you are still glum. Are you upset because you lost?"

Rafael: "That's not it, Death. I was aware I could never defeat you. During this fight, my blade almost pierced your chest. I know I cannot kill or harm you, but what if it were anybody else? What if this were a real fight? I could have killed somebody."

Death: "This is the only way you should fight, boy. When you face an opponent, regardless of who it is, you fight with the intent to kill. There's no point in fighting unless you give it everything you've got. You must fight as if your life depends on it, because one day it will.”

Rafael: “but. .”

Death: “The world is not as simple or beautiful as you perceive it. It's a cruel, cruel world—fight or die, the rule of the jungle. In the years to come, you'll learn to control your power. Anyone you might have to kill won't be an innocent. Even if you lose control, I'll always be here to help you, so don't stress over it."

Rafael: "Thank you, Death. It really eases my mind. Do you think I'll be able to defeat my opponents after your training?"

Death: "Magical strength grows with you. Do you remember the aura center?

Rafael: “Yes.”

Death: “Deep inside the aura center is a vessel—a jar or any container you can imagine. That's where your magical energy is stored. The vessel grows in size as your power, usage, and experience increase over time. You can't force it, so you can't infinitely grow stronger at any given time. Naturally, people have vessels of different sizes, resulting in different starting strengths. As you demonstrated, how you use your powers is also of prime importance. There are ways to increase the size of the vessel through immensely challenging training and other methods we'll discuss later."

Rafael: "Death?"

Death: "Yes."

Rafael: "I have one more request."

Death: "What is it?"

Rafael: "Can you stay with me in this physical plane?"

Death seemed genuinely surprised by the request.

Death: "Why is that, Rafael?"

Rafael: "It's just that ever since I arrived in this world, even though Jason and Gorion were always around, they were never truly present. When you showed up, I was frightened at first, but then, I was no longer afraid, and I no longer felt alone."

Death's reaper form crumbled around him, and he returned to his original form—a man dressed in a black tuxedo, black shirt, and black shoes. His pasty white complexion was visible on his well-chiseled face, free of any scars or marks. He still wore the same black sunglasses as before, clearing his throat before speaking.

Death: "Do you realize you're asking The Grim Reaper for company?"

Rafael: "Yes, I realize that, Death."

Death: "Very well, then. For as long as I train you, I shall always be present in my real form in this plane of existence. I give you, my word."

Rafael: "Thank you, Death."

With the image of Death watching over him, Rafael drifted off to sleep mid-air. For the first time since that fateful night with Gorion, he wasn't feeling lonely.