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“So the Amulets will win the galaxy for good or evil, is that what you’re saying?”
Tyran already felt exhausted. Out here on the Space Station he had felt far away from Xenon and that godforsaken dungeon-room of his. He had felt far away from the prophecy. But now Death, as solid and real as his own body, sat across from him, and nodded his head.
For some reason, the demon was haunting him, trying to ensnare him into the prophecy of the Amulets.
“And I am one of the five who have to collect them.”
Again, Death nodded, although he looked somewhat bored with Tyran’s questions - impatient.
“Five mortals will gather the Amulets and win the galaxy for good, or one mortal alone will gather them for evil.” Death said.
Tyran shook his head. This was more like some warped fairy tale than reality. He had had enough of it.
“Xenon will collect all five unless you and the others stop him.” Death insisted. His wings flexed, and the holes that were ripped in the skin of them tore wider. Tyran could see no recognition of pain on Death’s face. Only an alien intensity in Death’s eyes that made him want to shrink away. Be he wouldn’t. Instead, Tyran rose to his feet and paced, his tail flicking back and forth in agitation.
“Why me” He demanded.
“I don’t know.” Adam admitted. Tyran was startled by the humble answer: It was so utterly honest. Death simply made a shrug of his shoulders and continued to watch him. Tyran hadn’t expected the answer, and it unnerved him.
“God’s supposed to know everything. He can go sort it out himself.” Tyran found it ridiculous that he was talking about a ‘God’ at all - he had rejected religion long ago. But here sat a real demon: as large as life. Death took a long pause and tilted his head a little, as if searching for the right words.
“God knows everything...but he doesn’t necessarily experience everything.” He then shook his head and waved a hand dismissively.
“That is not important.” He continued, “Imagine that the galaxy is now like a glass that is balancing on the edge of a table. God could reach out and push the glass back to safety in the middle of the table, but in doing so the glass might go off-balance and crash to the floor. Better to leave the glass as it is. Better to let the glass look after itself and just make sure to stop Satan creating an earthquake.”
Tyran frowned. “So good and evil is balanced.”
“Yes.”
“...and so it is completely up to us?”
Death nodded.
“Either the glass animates itself and hops back to safety, or it allows itself to be shaken off the table and into Evil - it may even willingly jump in there. These amulets are the fairy-dust that bring the glass to life.”
Death made a starburst gesture with his hand and there was a spark of humour in his eyes. Tyran felt sick.
“So where do you fit in all of this?” He asked, squinting in suspicion.
Death sighed and looked uncomfortable. He closed his eyes, frowning.
“I am loyal to good - you have to believe that. And God’s will is that the galaxy remains in balance. No intervention. Let the mortals decide their own fate, and if Xenon rules the galaxy then so be it.”
He face darkens, and he seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts for a few moments. He continued, but his voice was somewhat laboured with the weight of whatever these thoughts were.
“It is Satan’s will that Xenon succeeds, of course. But my father is naive if he thinks that Satan will simply sit and watch.” He shook his head, as if in despair. “The demons now know that I delivered the prophecy. As we speak, they wait in hell for me. I will have to tell them as much as you know, eventually.”
Tyran studied Death, wondering if he could rust the creature at all, or if he would lead him into a trap.
“I will help you. I will help nudge the glass in the right direction. You only have to cooperate, and hope that Satan and Xenon don’t rattle the table too hard in their actions. It is worth the risk, I know it is. ”
Tyran sighed, irritably.
“I don’t give a damn about all this mystical bullshit! I want no part in this. What’s in it for me? I’m just risking my neck.”
Death chuckled humourlessly and fixed him with a condescending look. Death’s expression grew harder. It was more like the demon Tyran had expected.
“If you do not cooperate and find the Amulets, then you may continue your life without responsibility. But Xenon will hunt you down and kill you.”
Tyran kicked at the ground and looked at him sideways.
“What? You can see my future?”
“No. But it doesn’t take a genius. You will be dead within the year.”
Tyran was taken aback by the severity in Death’s voice. The creature seemed to flip moods without warning. However, Tyran could see that Death didn’t seem to take any enjoyment form this bleak prediction. Tyran released that Death was being honest again. Brutal, but honest. Tyran faced him.
“And if I cooperate?”
“Xenon will probably kill you.” Death’s voice softened a little.”But you will go down fighting - and you will have the amulets. If you succeed, you save the galaxy. If you fail, then you did what was right and you tried. That is all anyone can ask of you. To try.”
Tyran chewed his tongue. Damned if you do: damned if you don’t. He knew that Death was right - no matter how far he ran, Xenon would hunt him down. Maybe if he accepted Death’s offer of help he could find the other four Amulet Holders and they could offer him protection. At the very least, he would have somewhere to run towards as he fled form Xenon. Now, at the moment, he had nothing.
He huffed and Death watched him. He had made up his mind.
“Do you trust me?” Death asked, as if he sensed what Tyran’s decision was. Tyran stared straight at the demon’s blue eyes.
“Call me traditional, but where I come from; we don’t trust things with fangs.”
Death laughed, flashing a grin of shark-sharp fangs.
“But I have no choice.” Tyran conceded.
Death nodded, smiling. The hardness had completely dropped from his face, and he seemed happier, perhaps a little nervous.
“Then let us go find them.”