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Tommy, Wilbur, Techno, and Phil have all seen Death. Of course they would see Her with the things they get up to. They all describe Her and their encounters in different ways, but ultimately they all truly see Her the same.
Phil has seen Her countless times, from the field of battle to the marketplace. From tasks most daunting to simple busywork. It is true what they say, after all. Death is unpredictable.
And yet Phil knew of a place he would always be visited by Death. Phil knew to expect an appearance by Her every time he visited the creek by his homely cabin to collect fresh water. “You would not survive if you fell in there,” She says. “I shall be careful not to, my Lady Death.” And Death would simply watch the man go about his task. And then Death would leave the man, as She was needed elsewhere. He doesn’t mind Her frequent appearances or sudden disappearances. Staring Death in the face, Phil could only see a thing of beauty. Death grows curious.
When Techno first sees Her, he bluntly describes Her as “A nice woman with black hair” who had warned him that he should choose the axe over the sword for his upcoming fight. He thought the suggestion strange, picking up the axe and feeling the nerves he didn’t know he had ease. He turned to the mysterious woman to thank Her, and She was gone.
Wilbur, ever the poet, fluidly, warmly describes Her raven hair and voice like soft silk, Her even tone when warning him of the treachery of the path he had chosen to take home that day. He considered the advice and gazed towards his path, nodding in agreement as he considered the dangerous unknown. When he turned to the woman to ask how She knew the path was dangerous, She had vanished.
Tommy burst through the door of their lovely house, Tubbo being dragged along behind him, and immediately began rambling about the very nice, pretty lady with long dark hair. As he continued and described Her more and more- Her level tone that was, somehow, both indifferent and warm, Her wide-brimmed hat that hid Her eyes from view and the sheer veil attached, the way She shimmered with stardust, almost as if She were there when they died and scattered across the cosmos, and Her sudden disappearance after he agreed on keeping away from the forest- the three older males pieced together that they all must have seen the same woman.
Phil, having long since learned the truth of Death’s appearances, feared momentarily that his sons had been so close to Her embrace. But then he began to realize another implication of the vivid picture his youngest son painted. They had all seen Death the same way. And he wondered what that could mean. But amidst his pondering he heard the faintest gasp- Wilbur, it sounded like- and looked at his son. The other boys followed, seeing Wilbur’s face was one of shock. They turned in the direction he faced and saw Her. She stood before them, all of them, and Phil feared for his boys and Tommy’s young friend.
“No, they can’t all be in danger! What must I do to prevent this? What will happen, my Lady Death?” Death looked at the man strangely before She realized where his thoughts were. “No,” She began, slowly, calmly. “I’m out here for that. I’m… here to visit.”
And it was Phil’s turn to give Death a confused, wary glance. And Death looked on past the man to his children behind him before looking back to him. Her gaze pierced through his very being. She could see all he was, all he would become. She could see his soul and beyond it.
She spoke.
“I think..” Death gazed into the man’s eyes, and he stared back, curious.
“I quite enjoy your company.”
Phil blinked. He was caught quite off guard, if he’s honest. But there was no time for that. Phil smiled at Death, holding Her gaze with determined warmth. “Do you? I’m glad. I’ve always enjoyed your company.” His boys behind him were no longer tense, small smiles on each of their faces- except our poor Tubbo, who just seemed confused. “I do hope this means you’ll visit more often and not just moments of peril,” Phil jokes, chuckling.
Death has existed through the eons.
Death is the constant of life.
Death has watched on as millions and millions of mortals passed on, face solid and stoic, no emotion ever gracing it.
Death has not laughed.
Death has not wept.
Death has simply done Her one job in this vast universe granted to us.
And yet, inexplicably..
Death smiles back.