*I do now own the characters, they belong to Yana Toboso and Square Enix.*
Part I:
The first time I saw her I thought she was an angel. She was five and I was six and a half. She was my only friend in that orphanage were we'd been dumped, just like trash, just like the other kids. Her parents had burned to death in a house fire, and nobody else in the family wanted to take her in, I knew that from overhearing the matrons the day they brought her in. I never knew what happened to my own, the orphanage was my 'home' as far as I remembered.
We built houses from sticks and mud out in back of the orphanage. The other kids made fun of her because she couldn't see them when they walked up to her, pushed her down and threw fistfuls of sand over her amaranth hair. She would cry and I would come up and punch the boys, the girls would run away, and I'd throw my arm around her, and she would stop crying eventually, just in time for one of the kids to tell the matron on me and I'd take a beating. I took it happily, for her.
When the couples came in looking to adopt, it didn't fail that some nice lady would come up to her, talk to her, make her smile, then walk away. They always went for the babies, the ones they can raise themselves, the clean slates. Most of the other kids, and me, we knew we'd never have parents. Few of us had known the love of a mother or father. Most of us were used to being looked at, never chosen.
Months went by and she was still there. The matrons started to say nobody would take her, just like me, just like most of us. Probably because of her eyes. She's nearly blind, the poor child, never going to be adopted because of it the poor dear, they would say, what a shame, such lovely eyes and they don't see a thing, the Lord does work in mysterious ways. But she wasn't blind, I knew it because when we threw rocks against the trees she could always see where the furthest rock had gone off to. I couldn't even see that far. She'd point to birds and stars whose shape I could barely make out. She was always looking out windows, watching the birds. That was probably another reason they picked on her, thought she was dumb or something. But I knew better.
A year went by. We were getting older. I started to be a little hopeful, maybe the matrons were right, maybe we could grow up together, there in that orphanage until they kicked us out, maybe when I busted out of that place I could take her with me. That was all naive thinking of course. The streets were no place for someone like her. I knew that even at that age. I'd have to think of another way, but I had time, seven whole years, to think of something.
Then one day they showed up. A man and a pretty lady, walking side by side. They were nicely dressed and seemed to be well off. The man even walked with one of those fancy canes, and the lady had a hat with flowers on it and nice white gloves. They weren't interested in changing trousers or hiring a nighttime nanny, they wanted to look at the older kids. I panicked as the matrons came in to fix us up. One of you might have parents by the end of today if you settle down and mind your manners, she said. I hoped it wouldn't be me, or worse, I hoped it wouldn't be her, that they wouldn't take her from me. Minutes later I saw them walking into our room, looking at all of us, just like we were fancy objects to add to their collection, show off to their friends. Wealthy folk. At least they looked like wealthy folk.
I panicked as the pretty lady went up to her. She was looking out the window, as usual, at the birds that nobody else in the room could see. She didn't turn to look at the pretty lady when the lady knelt before her. The matron started to apologize on her behalf and say something about her eyes, and the lady asked her kindly to let her talk to the child herself. What do you see little one? she asked. She turned to the lady and the lady smiled, Birdies, she said and pointed out the window, returning the smile. The lady looked out the window, and her face started to glow. I think she could see them too. She beamed as she kept talking to her. What is your name? she asked. Mary, her name is Mary, the matron responded for her. The pretty lady didn't even acknowledge the matron as she talked to her, My my Mary, you certainly have a unique gift don't you, we'll have to change your name to reflect that, and my Mary smiled as she always did when she was uncomfortable.
My heart stopped as the lady told the man She's the one, and the man told the matron they were taking Mary.
And I froze as they took my Mary away from me. She cried as the lady carried her in her arms, she cried and held out her arms toward me, and I made a secret promise that I would find her one day and take her back. Every single night and day after that was darkness.
A decade went by and I was living off the streets, pickpocketing passersby, stealing food from windowsills when my stomach was hurting. I was good, I was sneaky, and I was desperate. I was caught stealing pieces of raw meat from Old Man Knox's kitchen one day and he beat me with a stick for it. Then he offered me a job and I couldn't refuse, or he'd have me put away for thieving. I helped him around his slaughter house, cutting the meats, and selling them, feeding the pigs, carrying things that were getting too heavy for him or his wife to carry themselves. Their son had died from tuberculosis years ago, he said, so he needed the help, and I needed to learn how to be a proper man and earn a living, he said. In return I got a pound of meat at the end of the week. He let me sleep in the back yard, eat the bread his wife baked, and occasionally have dinner with them. They taught me how to say grace. His wife was nice. I told her about the orphanage and Mary, and how I had promised to find her one day. She said I looked like her son who'd passed away, her dear Ronald, and she taught me how to make bread.
Three more years passed and I was still working for Old Man Knox. I was sleeping in his attic then, because he trusted me enough at the time. One day he sent me to get some materials from the market and when I came back these two guys were in the kitchen, pushing him round, saying he owed them money. I ran inside and defended him, managed to give them a beating. They backed off and ran away. But the old man was in poor health, his wife in a corner of the kitchen nearly scared to death.
A week later after he sent me for materials again I returned to find him and his wife on the kitchen floor, their tidy house looked like it'd been ransacked. They were both barely breathing, and I knew where to find the ones responsible, so I got help and then I went to look for those guys.
That is how I ended up dying in an alley of East London. That is how I became a death god.
The first souls I reaped were the old man and his wife. They were listed to die in their sleep, together. But she opened her eyes before she went, and she saw me. My Ronald, she called me, before she went.