The day was overcast by blue-grey clouds from the rainstorm that had swept in late last night. Weak, watery sunlight poked through every now and then before being swallowed up again. Despite the threat of more rain, the day was overall pleasant for late autumn.
Brilliant eyes of deepest green peered out from beneath a dark cowl, following the movements of the passersby. No one noticed him, despite how inconspicuously unique he looked. He was dressed in a dark green silk shirt and tight-fitting black cotton pants. Black scaly boots made of a mythical fire-breathing creature graced his feet and over the shirt was a vest made of impenetrable green-grey snakeskin, a trophy from his earlier years. Completing the outfit was a beautiful silvery cloak. It shimmered like water at the slightest movement.
But no one noticed his uncommon appearance.
For no one saw. And that was how he intended it. Magic worked just as well, if not better here in this Realm than back in his former one.
Growing bored of people-watching the hooded figure slipped away from his spot upon a low brick wall and up onto the roof of a building. Stretching out below and beyond was London, in the Victorian Era to be exact. Perhaps that's why he felt as at home as he did here compared to what the Magical World was like back in his old Realm. That place never moved beyond the sixteenth century as far as technology... and some ideals were concerned.
Leaping gracefully from roof to roof the person smiled and let out a joyous laugh at the feeling of the wind whipping past his lithe form, the adrenaline and endorphins flooding his blood. It reminded him of flying.
He landed with a thud on the edge of a building overlooking a cobblestone road. Across the street was an ominous-looking funeral parlor with a sign above the door that read: 'Undertaker'.
"I wonder..." Is this where the rogue Reaper is hiding? Death did mention that he was a favorite of his. I should say hello before I explore any more of this world or before Death calls me in.
Harry ~
The interior of the shop is dark and holds an air of decay and mystery.
Ironically it soothes me, but being Death's Master will change a person I've come to discover. Coffins of all shapes and sizes litter the shop and odd macabre items line the shelves behind the counter. As I wander further in an eerie laugh rings out and a purple coffin's lid slowly begins to shift open.
"Hehehehe! Welcome, would you like to try a coffin? I'm sure I could find one perfectly suited for you!" A slightly high-pitched voice giggles as the coffin opens fully, revealing a man with long silver hair and tophat.
I catch the gleam of yellow-green eyes beneath the long bangs that let me know exactly what this man is. Only Grim Reapers possess that shade of electric green.
I smile at the Reaper as he steps fully out of the coffin to assess me, dressed in long black robes with a silver sash.
"I'd try out a coffin if I could, but alas I do not have the qualifications to do so," I reply and inwardly cackle as the Undertaker freezes as he catches hold of my aura. My lips twitch into a faint smirk as I lean my hip against the counter and watch the rogue struggle to comprehend just who has walked into his shop.
"M-Master of Death?" Undertaker breathes.
I dip my head. "Indeed. I just arrived into this Dimension a few weeks ago via the lovely help of Death. He wanted me to get a chance to assimilate to this world before he asks me to take up my official role in the Grand Game."
"It is an honor to meet you, my Lord."
I wrinkle my nose at the title but don't say anything. Better to keep formalities till I know who I can call friend and foe. "Anyway, I was hoping I would get to meet you eventually. Death spoke quite fondly of you."
Undertaker's eyes widen minutely behind his bangs at my words, but I can tell he is flattered by the tiny smile curling at his lips. "How can I be of service, my Lord?" he questions with a curious tilt of his head.
"Would it be ok if I drop by from time to time in between missions? I've heard a lot of amusing things about you, and I'd like to get to know you better if that's alright that is?" I tack on the last hastily, hoping I'm not imposing. It's been so long since I've interacted with anyone other than Death! Am I seriously going to screw up so soon?
Undertaker snickers at my flustered expression and gives his consent, causing me to subconsciously wilt in relief. "Would you care for some tea?"
"Please," I reply and make myself comfortable on a coffin lid as the Reaper bustles about gathering cups and preparing the beverages.
I end up staying for a little over an hour, getting a feel for my new acquaintance and him for me.
I end up enjoying myself and plan to come back to visit soon. Undertaker still seems nervous by my presence, but he warmed up a little by the end of our visit and did not seem opposed to me coming by in the future.
That gives me hope for my future in this new world.
Several months go by as I explore the world and learn of the other Immortals that share it.
I've not personally encountered any of the top three species Angels, Demons, and Reapers that inhabit this Realm besides Undertaker, but I have felt their presences and heard fantastical stories from humans that have supposedly encountered them.
I can't help but be curious about the other Immortals. Perhaps I may even forge a relationship with some of them. Regardless if it is friendly or antagonistic the thrill of interacting with other undying beings sets my blood ablaze with excitement at the prospect.
After six months of exploration, Death bids me go and make myself known to the Shinigami Headquarters so I can start up a working relationship with the Director of one of the Divisions, one William T. Spears.
He is extremely formal and polite when we meet, hiding his nerves behind the adjusting of his glasses with his Scythe. I give him a smile and explain my reasons for being here and what my role is to be once my assimilation is complete.
William promises to help me any way he can.
During the next six months, I learn how the Shinigami operate and the role I will have as the Master Reaper.
I swear that the new moniker is almost as bad as the Boy-Who-Lived label! Everyone looking at me in awe and other such adoration nonsense! It's nice in small doses, I like to be respected as much as the next guy, but this seems a bit over the top!
I bet Death planned it that way, the jerk!
As the Master Reaper, I am charged with collecting the rare and world-impacting souls and judge where their eternity will be. And apparently, I can even kill other Immortals! That... explains why everybody is clamoring over themselves in awe/fear-induced worship. That's a fun little perk!
On the one year anniversary of my appearance in this world, I get my first mission from Death.
"Hello, Master." Death greets me, fondness in his voice.
"It has been a while, old friend. I've adjusted to this place pretty well I believe." I grin at the cloaked being as we stroll down the corridors of the Hall of Records.
"I am glad, Harry. I was a little worried, you know." Death murmurs and I can't help but feel grateful that at least one entity cares about me. If not for Death showing when he did I would have fallen into madness. That I am certain of.
"Thank you," I mutter and then scowl as a Reaper darts around the corner of one of the long shelves containing the Cinematic Records, Amazement glistening behind his glasses. I can hear him mumbling to himself about 'seeing the Master Reaper' and my ire at the stupid name is evoked. "I do have one complaint. Did you really feel the need to give me another stupid title?!"
I can feel Death's smirk from the shadows of his cowl but he disinclines to answer.
A few moments of silence pass save for the click of my boots on the gleaming tiles. "So, are you here to tell what my first assignment will be?"
Death nods. "Yes. I need you to clear out a nest of low-level imp demons that have taken over a church in Wales."
I pause and give my colleague my most deadpan glare. "Cleaning? You know this reminds me of what Mrs. Weasley forced us to do back at Grimmauld Place, right? Can't one of the other Reapers handle this?"
Death laughs and places a bony hand on my shoulder. "I think you'll find a few surprises are in store for you with this little clean up job, Harry." I roll my eyes at that. "Just think of this as your trial run." The entity coaxes.
"Fine," I sigh as Death gives me a slip of paper with coordinates and basic details written upon it. "I'll head out now and get this over with," I announce after scanning the parchment.
"Thank you, Master."
I wave a hand nonchalantly in farewell. How disappointing, and after all the build-up too.
"By the way Master. After this, you will be able to choose your own Reaper Scythe!" Death calls after my retreating form. I glance over my shoulder in surprise and then allow a pleased smile to split my face. I had been wondering when I would get my own Scythe for a while! Apparently, this little mission will be Death's way of testing me. That... and probably a way to entice me to do well.
Shaking my head at the irony of getting the weapon after the battle I hurry away down the halls toward the exit.
This should be educational.
Dusk is just settling across the countryside like a warm blanket by the time I reach my destination. I stand in front of a small dilapidated chapel, the windows broken and wood starting to rot from age. Its nestled in an area of small, gently sloping hillocks which I use as a vantage point to scope out the area before making my way toward the church entrance.
The atmosphere is heavy and the repugnant scent of old blood and bile reeks in the faint breeze. My hackles rise as several pairs of glowing otherworldly eyes gleam out of the dark doorway. Low rumbling growls and snarls greet my ears as one of the imps steps into the overgrown yard.
I grimace in disgust at the toad-like creature. It looks to be a cousin of the evil ministry toad from my past, Delores Umbridge. The demon shrieks in challenge and I unthinkingly bare my teeth in a hiss in response. The creature grunts in surprise and stumbles back a step, appearing to be confused.
It is only then that I realize that my canines have lengthened into fangs and my nails into wickedly sharp claws. What the heck is this?! I force myself not to panic as some latent power, seductive yet twisted, rises up to meet my Magical Core. Damn it Death! Is this the freaking surprise you mentioned?! We are so having words when I get back to Headquarters!
I am broken from my freak-out by the toad demon leaping forward, appearing to take my shock as an open invitation. The other demons, which had stayed back, for the most part, howled and charged as well.
"Time to get to work," I mutter and quicker than thought whip out the Elder Wander and send an explosion curse straight into the midst of the horde. The battle, if one could call it that, is quick and brutal. In no time at all, I am surrounded by toad-like corpses, the grass stained with thick black blood. The final demon is ended with a wordless wandless spell to the heart. But instead of the magic I am familiar with, the dark energy I felt earlier answers my call. It rips the imp in twine, exposing the still-beating heart to the cool night air.
My jaw drops.
What. The. Hell!
