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Sky walked with an even stride between the forest’s trees, half an eye on the afternoon sun above and half an eye on his companion prancing along beside him. Mitch was as boyish as ever, his young face having never aged and his face bare and his eyes bright as he darted from shadow patch to shadow patch, picking up cool sticks and throwing them just to see where they landed.
“So go on, favourite moment?” Sky asked, rolling his eyes when Mitch picked up a stone and threw it as hard as he could.
“I’m still thinking!” Mitch protested. “There’s so many… Alright alright, I’ll tell you one. My fifth year in a row winning the Hunger Games competition, that was a good day.”
“Didn’t you only win four?” Sky questioned.
Mitch shook his head. “Nope! I scored a fifth about a month before we got that letter from Herobrine, remember?”
“Ah, yeah I remember now,” the god nodded, smiling at the memory. “I’ve never seen you smile so wide.”
Mitch laughed. “Yeah, it was a great feeling, all that hard work paying off. I mean, the recognition was great too, but I just liked the challenge. Facing the best of the best and earning your position on top, you know? I mean, that’s not the only best time too. That night after we all became Generals and we celebrated, that was nice. Proposing to Jerome and hearing him say yes, that was great too. Our wedding, obviously.”
“You mean the three days you two disappeared and you came back wearing rings and mating marks,” Sky snickered. “Without telling us as well.”
“We knew you guys wouldn’t mind,” Mitch laughed, running up a dead tree to leap through the treetops instead. “And you didn’t. That party was amazing dude.”
“Well I’m glad,” Sky laughed. “You guys were the first of the Team to marry. It only felt right to celebrate. Even if you robbed us of a wedding.”
“I think your and Ty’s wedding was elaborate enough to cover for that,” Mitch snickered.
Sky glanced away with a blush. “Shut up dude.” He listened to Mitch’s joyful laugh, then glanced up at him again. “You know that’s dangerous, right? Jumping like that?”
“Ah, c’mon you know me,” Mitch grinned, leaping again and running across the treetops. “I don’t let fear get in the way of having fun. If I let myself worry about hurting myself, then that’s going to control me and I’m going to stop doing the things I love.” He suddenly stopped, looking at Sky with worry clear on his face. “You will find me, right?”
“Of course I will, Mitch,” Sky assured with a warm smile. “Don’t worry.”
Mitch grinned and went on again, leaping from tree to tree with whoops of delight. Sky watched him carefully as he jumped over concerningly large gaps, nearly falling once or twice but always righting himself until Sky called “Mitch! Stop!”
Mitch froze immediately, poised at the edge of the tree he was just about to jump off, watching Sky with a slightly concerned frown on his face. Sky walked forward in front of him and knelt down beside the body that rested near the base of the tree Mitch was in, gently resting his hand on the cold face, knowing that the body had been dead for three days already.
The body was a man in his early 40s, with a beard starting to come in, scruffy hair tossed by the wind even in death, and wearing a red and black checkered jacket with silver dog tags that still hung around his neck bearing his name. On his left wrist was a golden wedding bangle with words engraved on the inside that Sky didn’t need to read. From the angle, the man had fallen from the same tree Mitch’s ghost crouched on while trying to leap to the next one. A leap he would never make.
“I guess… I guess the dangers caught up to me, huh?” Mitch murmured, looking down at his body with its pale, dead eyes staring at the endless sky.
Sky looked up at the spirit with a sad smile. “I knew you’d be the first to go. And I knew it would be doing something you loved.”
The spirit smiled slightly, but his eyes were staring at the body he no longer possessed. “Does it hurt to die?” he asked quietly.
“Did it hurt for you?” Sky asked softly.
Mitch frowned a little. “I don’t think so. I remember running, and jumping, and realising the next tree was too far and the ground was too close. It didn’t scare me… I just had the thought of ‘Oh, this’ll be interesting, I’ll just land on my shoulder and roll’… But there wasn’t any pain. I.. I think it took me a little while to notice anything was wrong at all…”
Sky looked down at the body, noting the tilt of the head and the broken neck, the skin around it slightly splattered with long-dried blood. There was a faint smile still on the body’s face; the thrill of adventure carrying him even to death. “I’m glad it didn’t hurt,” the god murmured.
“Do most people feel pain?” Mitch’s spirit questioned.
“Some do, others don’t,” Sky told him, carefully beginning to rearrange the limp body. “You’ve seen it, Mitch. Some people fall in battle, lost underneath the bloodshed and crushed or stabbed to death. Others fall and lie injured alone for days before succumbing. But many go in their sleep, or beside people who love them. And they’re all at peace once they’re dead, where nothing can hurt them. Where I can keep them safe forever.”
Mitch hummed. He shifted to sit on the tree, watching Sky carefully shift the body’s neck. “I guess I’ve died twice now, huh? It’s funny. Both times it… It was so fast that I didn’t notice it.” He looked at the god and a little smirk came on his face. “Don’t suppose I’ll get another chance?”
Sky laughed a little as he pulled out his communicator. “Not this time. This time it’s final, bud. There’s nothing I can do about that.” He typed a simple message to the group chat with his Team and heard the communicator in the body’s pocket buzz.
SkytheKid : I’ve found him
The god carefully picked up the body, making sure it wouldn’t be damaged, then nodded his head to the spirit. “Come here, then. I don’t want you getting lost. You need to say goodbye to the others before we move on.”
Mitch nodded and floated down, resting on Sky’s back and teleporting with the god. They landed next to the sea, on a stony hill that had been transformed with grass and moss and a grand tree into a memorial space. A few tall black obelisks stood at even intervals along the beach like sentinels, with glowing golden names carved into each and a torch forever lit in a basin at each of their bases. The place where Sky teleported them had no obelisk yet, but Sky laid the body down anyway.
“Are they coming?” Mitch asked, looking at the hillside.
Sky looked up, seeing the tips of grand skyscrapers and machines in the skyline, but also hearing running footsteps, and he smiled at the spirit. “Of course they’re coming, Mitch.”
Over the hill came six figures, approaching rapidly; two humans, the rest hybrids of half a dozen types. Most of them slowed down, save for the bacca hybrid who raced forward on all fours, only coming to a stop a few feet away. Jerome’s face was already crumpled, like the last of his hope had fully drained from him. Sky still had his hand on the chest of Mitch’s body as he looked up at his old friend. “I’m sorry Jerome,” he murmured.
Jerome let out a wordless wail and collapsed beside them, and Sky moved back to let him cradle Mitch’s body, sobbing into the dirtied shirt. The face of Mitch’s ghost crumpled and he moved over to his husband, kneeling on the other side of him and hugging him from behind. “I’m sorry, Fluffy, I’m so sorry I didn’t come home. I should have known to be more careful.”
Jerome couldn’t hear him, of course. None of the team could: Not Ian, nor Jason, and not Quentin, Ty, or even Seto who arrived last but was the first to kneel beside Jerome and hug him, half-phasing through the ghost without realising it. “I’m so sorry Jerome,” Seto murmured.
The others gathered around too and Sky shuffled back a little more to let them all have a moment, watching them unknowingly form a hug around Jerome, the body, and Mitch’s ghost. Sky wanted them all to have forever for this, but he looked over his shoulder at the sun setting over the edge of the world, he knew that wasn’t an option.
“Mitch. It’s time to go,” he called softly, knowing his voice wouldn’t be heard by the others.
Mitch’s spirit slowly drifted out of the huddle and though he wasn’t crying, his voice was mournful. “Can’t they see me? Just one more time? Can’t I stay a little longer?”
Sky shook his head. “That’s not how this works, Mitch. Your place is no longer here. But we’ll all remember you until it’s time for us all to meet again. Until then, there’s only two more gifts I can give to you and Jerome.”
The Death god looked over his shoulder again, waiting for the sun to set a moment more. Then he spoke, and this time, both the dead and the living heard his voice. “Jerome. Watch.”
The hybrid lifted his tear-stained face, and the others of the team looked up too, and watched as Sky held out his hand to the spirit only he could see. “Time to go, Mitch. Your next adventure is waiting.”
And in the moment between day and night, when the sun hovered on the perfect horizon, they all could see it; a spirit, slightly glowing but hazy like the sea mist, with a form they couldn’t fully see. But they could see the hand that reached out and appeared to take Sky’s own, and the body that turned to them and waved one final goodbye. And then Sky stepped away and the spirit went with him, and they went down to the beach, and walked across the water, and the spirit still glowed with that gentle light until the sun obscured them. And then the sun dipped below the horizon and they were both gone.
And then the stars came out, and the ground between them and the water trembled. From it grew another obelisk; pure blackstone but humming softly with Death magic, with a name that carved itself into the obelisk in pure gold and glowed with quiet happiness.
Mitchell James Aceti-Hughes
Year 8423
At its base was an unlit torch lying in a basin, with flint and steel beside it. Seto was the one who picked them up, bringing them over and silently handing the flint to Jerome, holding the torch. It was tradition: lighting a torch to remember the dead, to comfort them, and to let them move on. It was a way to honour those who had passed. It was how the living told the dead that it was okay; the living would be okay, the dead could leave them.
Jerome’s hands trembled as he lit it and Seto carefully guarded the flame until it took hold, and then he placed it back at the base of the obelisk. And there the Team stayed, staring at the western edge of the world, their friend’s body cradled in the middle of them, and silently praying to the God of Death who was escorting Mitch to peace.