"The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. No remains." - Arthur Golden
Death: an inevitable end to all things;
The cold embrace of the End, mysterious and unsolved, chaperoned by everlasting darkness and solitude; an inescapable fate without favor, brought by the decease of the ephemeral being called Life. Death, in all its palsied forms, laid before her. Air, ripe with decomposition, and corpses – people no longer, as they never will be – littered the bloodied, fallow land.
How many times?
Slow and defeated, she sunk to her knees and rocked on her heels. An endless cycle ushered by mistakes repeated throughout time by humans as they returned to that primal womb: Death. A low "why?" rose from her throat, discordant with the silence. But the hushed quiet was better than rampant lunacy. Hysterical, they laughed and cried, eyes red and bleeding and screams never-ending. Her eyes closed to ubiquitous End, yearning for it all the same. Forced to watch her precious Brother suffer a fate unbefitting of his soft soul, what need was there to carry on, to try? Her lungs could hardly draw breath, and she hadn't the energy to scream.
Death's power is to End, never to begin. Destroy; never create. Her existence a blight upon this world. Life wrought misery and pain, Death granted serenity and mercy.
And that's when it hit her.
Death may be unable to sprout Life. So was Her mission, however, able to usher change. Her eyes opened, filled with new purpose. She felt joy; her sick grin antithetical to her innocent profile. Yes, why had it taken her so long to realize? Obverse of this world was Life, as it brought nothing but suffering; Death, on the other hand, conduce equilibrium and peace. No one spared, a fate all shared; everyone, finally, equal. Her role in this world clear, though it was all along, she just refused to accept it.
The odious mortals, corrupted and marred by sin and pitiful souls unsalvageable, she could grant them repose. No longer shall a sight like this befall her, man driven to madness and battle. Death, no, She shall enwrap them in the warm blanket of Death, a lull sempiternal. There are she rose driven by blissful purpose, birthed a malediction;
"Hear my decree, Child. On this day, on the name Izanami, shall 'Death' rein and bring calm everlasting upon this world brought to naught."
I have opened my own discord chat with my buddy Almightylord, if that piques anyone's interests. Check my profile. Close the gaps and you should be gravy. I've been meaning to share this story anyway, but getting this out there made me more inclined to do so. Thanks to Wild Blue Sonder and Mugen7 for looking this over so long ago!