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Death is one of our greatest mysterious and our biggest fears. But death in the factual, is the opposing fore to life. It's goal is to dominate all that breaths, beats, and believes. It is a dangerous fore that no mortal can overcome...easily.

Immortality is not a myth, but it is rare, selective, and painful. As death has a desire it is an item with thoughts, though without gender, or personality. In retrospect, it is the destruction of person and soul. All death's forces go into its only plan for absolution. The biggest problem death is faced with is the border. Life and the after realms are sealed apart by blood, time, and will. When mortals loose their blood, they can pass through. Likewise, they can use up their time and pass through. Some unfortunate creatures pass through the gates to the dead by simply loosing the will to survive. It is inevitable that we all die. But you see like life finds a way to enter the next realm, death found a way to creep back into life. A mortal soul that has died usually fades into his waters and rests in harmony, without time or fight or pain. It is soothed and exists in content. But some souls fight. There is something within them that refuses to bend, and that breaks the barrier of will in order to retain life. Seeing these few souls, death found a plan. He offered them a body to have the key of blood, and using his old deep magic would keep them ageless, untouched by time. This would allow the spirits to return to life. The only condition is that they serve death and fight against life once they had gotten it. If they agree, the mortal has the three keys to enter into life again, and become a servant of their master. They are the immortals. Another name I have found for them, is Death-Dealer.

Time is one of the greater forces in the world and is nearly impossible to defeat. It only stops once we are dead. An immortal however, has been given a deep magic by their master. It links them to an element in life, one that has been and will forever be, one that can defy time. Since these elements are rare, they are only a few immortals. They have three links to complete their ring of power. An element, a trait, and a force create the awesome power of the Death-Dealers. The ones I know of our listed below:

Light/Day/Fury

Dark/Night?

Water/Sea/Desire

Air/Wind/Desperation

Fire?

These are the five elements that can defy time. However I have only encountered the immortal of light, water, and wind. Briefly I saw the creature of darkness, but not enough to know his force.

The Death-Dealer of light is named Seraphina. I managed to talk to her briefly by offering my eldest son to her. She is a beautiful creature, but her features are never at peace, always contorted in anger. Below is a black and white sketch of her, although you can never quite draw them right. Her sheet of hair goes straight down to her ankles in a sheet of white-gold. Her skin is deep bronze, and flawless. Seraphina has on oval face and soft bone-structure. Her nose is straight, and her eyes are large, and always wide in a burning orange. Her mouth is thin though, and always in a snarl. Her body is extravagantly tall and willowy. But her hands, I watched rip apart the neck of my oldest child. She told me the basics of immortals, and her own traits. She allowed me to live, simply because my blood was old and worthless to her, the immortal had said. Her voice was loud, and beating.

To see the creature of water, I offered an engaged woman I had captured. A muggle, foolish on her wedding day to fall into my trap. Instead of killing her though, the Death-Dealer chained her to the bottom of the lake she resided in, and swore to make her wait 150 years without her lover before allowing them to be reunited in death. Then she turned and allowed me to talk. Her name is Larka.

She is a more human height a notice at first, and her voice is not monotone, but rippling with calm. Her hair had a relaxed wave to it, and had a base of navy blue, with stands of churning white, kelp green, and azure. Her eyes... I have never seen eyes like that. A stunning turquoise that captured light and shadows for such depth. Her skin was white like cresting waves. Larka had features that were much more inhuman than Seraphina however. Her face had a mystical look, almost as if it was always shifting without moving. A small nose, slight eyebrows, and long bangs seemed ever-present. Larka radiated deep power where her sister showed it. It was her who told be one thing I had not known.

The key to immortality is to have died before.

And the strength of the immortal depended on the suffering they had faced in life.

Astor was the first male Death-Dealer I encountered. He was also the most pleasant of them. I offered him my wife, who he refused. Instead he asked me to write this book, and place it in a safe, but not secret spot. To this day I do not know why, and I did not dare to ask the immortal. Astor was like a god. He was tall, but not to the inhuman extent of Seraphina. His frame was built of lean muscle for speed and swift strikes. His hair was dusty white, sprinkled with periwinkle, cornflower, and lilac. It was formed at an angle, reaching down the nape of his neck, up his head, and long bangs cascading down his forehead in a free, but perfect fashion. The immortal male's features were wise, ageless, and yet cut and strong. His cheekbones and jawbone formed a prominent, smooth angle. His nose was slightly long, but perfectly straight. His clear, strange white eyes were framed with arching eyebrows, showing no emotion throughout our talk. Astor was the most willing to divulge the secrets of the Death-Dealers, I suspected that when I he asked me to write it down. He explained how one of them could only be killed by each other, or by their master. However they rarely fought out of preservation. An immortal has three basic powers represented by their traits. As wind, he controlled the skies and the storms. As air, he could choke out life with a simple raise of his fingers and also grant it, if he so desired. He added that it was not in the nature of a Death-Dealer to save lives however. They killed without remorse, either out of obedience or pleasure. Mortals were below them. However, there were boundaries for immortals. Astor told me the key to controlling an immortal, and I recorded each point with precise.

"Each immortal has a weakness. It allows Death to control us. I shall not tell you mine, nor any others. However if you would find the flaw in one of us, that creature would be bound to do your bidding and even their master could not stop that. However you must be careful if you even capture my kin. They will turn on you at any chance you give them..."

The immortal of darkness I can give no name. I met him in a flash, when he killed a man I saw near. I do know however, by his necklace, which identifies them, that he was night from the black moon. And later on in life, I learned his weakness...

-Excerpt from the Book of the Dead, pg 1123-1125

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Voldemort inwardly smirked as his long-fingered hands continued to stir the small cauldron. Weeks of preparation and it was finally coming to an end. The poor black-coated pot had no idea of the destruction it was brewing over the darkening flames. If it did, it would probably break in despair. Crimson eyes carefully watched over the potion while his thoughts traveled back to the well-versed pages after 1,125 in the Book of the Dead. It told of each immortal, and their theorized weakness. The Dark Lord allowed a low chuckle to escape his thin lips.

I have captured the power of shadows without her help...

Of course, upon examining the immortals the master of death eater's had chosen the creature of darkness and night.

With his power under my command this war will end shortly.

The most feared person of his time he may be, but the former Riddle was still a person. And his vanity had desired the most Gothic beauty, the darker arts. Naturally, selecting the immortal of night to do his bidding sated the man's pride.

The metallic gray liquid bubbled in its container, churning with streaks of ebony and scarlet. The list of ingredient's unconsciously went through its maker's mind.

Blood of a unicorn colt, tainted purity of a soul

Heart of a Dementor, endless evil of our fears

Fur of a werewolf, the hunters of night

Fang of a vampire, call upon blood-ties

Blood of the maker, used to bind

... and the last item:

Milk from a tortured mother's breasts

Voldemort switched the position he was turning the potion. The last ingredient of course, had turned out the hardest. The fear-invoking wizard knew how to torture people of course, he was no stranger to antagonistic delights. But it was finding a suitable subject that had given him so much trouble. Yet he had finally found a young, pregnant witch who had been widowed the month before. A short struggle with his pawns and her mangled body had been brought to him, coated with blood and tears. And this time, there was no curse left on him.

With a slight cruel grin, the Dark Lord watched the red and black contents of the cauldron bind together like chains amongst the churning gray. He knew the mixture was done then. So with a subtle laugh he began to chant the words under his breath, raising red eyes to the cloudy night sky. He felt the aura of ancient, powerful magic sweep by as it pulsed through everything, calling for the death dealer. She would know soon, but it wouldn't matter because soon the shadows would be under the power of one man. Another pulse shot out, dark ripples on a horizon that would lead many to an early end. Lord Voldemort was waiting.

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Harry was still shaking as the pulsations ended. His eyes transfixed on the figure in front of him. He felt as though his body could no longer function, the power had been so deep it jarred his mind. All he could think to do was watch, with emerald eyes, his professor. She had never moved so fast. The moment the waves ended, a stream of curses hurled from her tongue and she flew up the stairs into her current sleeping quarters. A breath passes and she was racing back down, hair pulled up in a gold band, thick black fingerless gloves on her hands, a red cloak thrown over her shoulders and the knouter fastened to her waist. She eyed her pupil suddenly, as if just realizing he was there. With another curse her hand descended on him, pulling the boy up to his feet. Golden eyed swiftly crossed over the chosen one, before grabbing his wrist and pulling the black-haired teen along. Harry's body tried its best to comply with her swift strides, forcing him to sprint flat out to keep up with her as she moved throughout the castle halls, full of dazed students. It flashed through Potter's mind that his DADA teacher could move so much quicker if she had left him.

"Why didn't you leave me?" The seeker managed to mutter, still trying to shake away the fuzziness in his head.

Blair replied irritably with a slight glance back.

"You were practically defenseless idiot."

Stumbling to keep up, Harry felt his mind clear and thoughts stop buzzing. He ignored the snarly, cover-up comment.

"And you cared?" He was baiting her.

Kryeen looked forward again, still guiding him up a familiar staircase before two stone gargoyles.

"Your essential for my memories." The multi-color haired woman muttered darkly.

But the celebrity didn't buy it. Still he knew when to let it drop. It was usually when she used the 'continue-and-I-kill-you-slowly tone. Still the mortal was curious.

"What was that?"

The woman uttered a password and then continued up the stairs, no longer dragging her companion, as he sped to keep on her heels.

"A summoning and binding spell." The immortal replied as they reached the door.

"What did it do?" The boy-who-lived managed one final question as her sharp fist turned open the door without knocking.

He automatically followed her into the oval office, but for once the green orbs did not immediately dart for the great wizard before him. They stayed with the powerful witch.

The golden-eyed being noticed his impatient stare and took one breath before answering.

"A death-dealer."

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Draeg Darkling pierced the mortal in front of him with his cardinal gaze. Slowly, he looked back down at the twisting red mark on his arm that smoldered. It was a full moon, held fast by a twisting serpent. Then he glanced back up at the vile creature before him.

To kill him in so many ways...

The silence was stifling in the death eater's camp. They gathered in a wide circle around th vampire fear keeping them still. The sky had fallen deep into night, a starless new moon night of ominous dark.Finally the immortal spoke.

"You have no idea what you have done mortal." His smooth, sharp, monotone sent shivers up a few of the cloaked figures.

The serpent that bound him however, only smirked and held up a thick, aged tome.

"This book has told me all the secrets of your kind, death-dealer."

The incarnate of night glared death at the volume.

"Meddlesome man, I could kill you all in an instant."

Voldemort simply kept his calm and dangerous smirk.

"I order you not to kill me, nor any of my followers."

The vampire lord let out a fierce hiss as the dull red mark on his arm lit up once more and seared his skin. When the pain subsided he uttered two furry-bitten words.

"Curse you!"

The Dark Lord gave no reply to this, but his voice tuned out more commands.

"You are to aid me in the war against the rest of the wizardry world. You may never harm me or those I say. You are to listen to me alone."

The dark immortal let out another hiss as his skin burnt with each rule, binding deeper into his skin.

"Why did you summon me?" The pale-faced man asked with venom.

"Because you are darkness, and I control the darkness. You are as shadowed as my heart, and fear-invoking to my enemies." He replied with his own red eyes.

"Do not compare me to yourself, mortal scum!" The fangs flashed with their owner's temperament.

"You were mortal once, death dealer." There was a kind of chilling greed lighting up his inhuman face.

This time the vampire laughed. "Do you wish to become one of us, accursed creature? The Aduru has made that possible, I suppose."

He-who-must-not-be-named visibly tightened. "How has Blair done this? She is the immortal of fire and completes the pentagon. There can only be five of you at a time."

Bright eyes narrowed and a mirthless sound issued. "The Aduru Eposis completed are ring, and yet she also broke it The foolish creature cannot control her own power. Aduru killed the Luminarium."

The greedy light distorted his face once again. Blair, thank you.

"Later we shall attend to that business. Now the dementors hunger. You will take them out and allow them to feed. You may do what you like with any who oppose." His scar burnt again.

"Why do you involve me in your filthy mortal war, a war without a name!" Darkling jeered against the pain.

Voldemort let out a bone-crunching, short laugh. "Oh no, this war has a name. This is the War of Revelations."

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Next chapter: The battles begin as the war goes upscale and casualties mount. Draeg tries to drag Blair into the War, and the dead Guardian left something behind...