Chapter Text
This wasn't the first time Wolf had seen such a thing in this multiverse.
A king of Demons, terrorizing a village of humans. Destroying them, save for a few, of which one or two might join a group called the "Blue Robes" and carry a scroll in the hopes of destroying the demons - and of restoring the state of their multiverse.
Death glided over the earth, pulling souls as he went. Both demon and human. He never picked a side. He let the mortals do that - collecting his debt was his only concern. Taking souls to whichever places they ought to be. Dissolving them into the energy of the universe, perhaps, if they so wanted to rest that way.
The Wolf stopped in his tracks as one soul in particular, the last one he was intending to take, snagged on its body and refused to go with.
Strange.
He let go, then with a deep breath of energy, transformed with a burst of cold wind and let his paws materialize as they hit the ash-covered ground. A soft wind blew against his fur, the thickness of it bringing a promise of rain.
The source of the dissonance, he found, was a girl. A young human one, at that. She must have been one of the monks in the village, wounded in this attack. But where so many others had died, she was alive. Breathing ragged, her heartbeat thready.. but she was hanging onto life and didn't want to let go.
Wolf bent down to look at her. She was sprawled over the earth, hands dug into the soil like she were holding onto it so the earth would keep her here. Dressed in orange robes, her hair in two long, mussed braids.. she couldn't be more than 10 years old. Not even a monk-in-training.
Reaching out, he pried her fingers from the ground and picked her up. She was light, a little skinnier than she looked. About right size for a child. And she didn't yet have the horns characteristic of her people.
She looked exactly like...
..Daughter..
Death closed his eyes, willing himself not to think about her.
My child.
No, this girl wasn't even from his world.. didn't look like him.. she was human! She wasn't even-
daughter Daughter DAUGHTER
The Wolf flattened his ears, gripping her body closer to his. He remembered all too well what it was like to helplessly clutch the feverish form to himself, sobbing, knowing he could do nothing.
To hell with this.
To hell with everything.
Wolf fell to his knees. He could feel the tears threatening to break past his bony visage. His daughter was gone, gone, he was forced to reap her, too, all those years ago. But this little girl was alive. Perhaps she was supposed to die, but in that moment, Wolf hoped desperately that she would not. She was strong. She could make it!
After all, he had the power within him. Wolf could, at this very moment, channel that same power and breathe strength into this child, something, anything that would take what little life she had remaining and amplify it. The spark that beat inside would flicker up into a flame. It was a classic way to keep one alive, something many of the most powerful alchemists would do - and it didn't even require any life force, either.
Wolf sighed.
He focused every bit of energy he had, then did his best to extract but a droplet of it for this. Too much could just as easily kill her anyways, and then there would be nothing left to bring back. Once an existence was gone like that, it was gone, the same way one couldn't bring back someone who'd been alchemically deconstructed.
Laying the tiny body down on the grass, Wolf began performing his spell. He didn't need it, but did it help? It certainly did. Plus, he needed a focused amount of his energy for this. Rip away a chunk of his own being and imbue it into her. Just a little bit. Not a flood, but a drop or two.
He took a deep breath. Shuddered with a wince as he felt that bit of his being detach..
..When Wolf exhaled, it came as a thick, grey-blue mist that settled over the child's body like frost in the autumntime. Like any frost, it melted away and absorbed into her.
Please.. please be strong enough.
There! A twitch. And then another. Death gathered the child into his arms as she began to cough out some of the ash in her lungs, breathing now with a newfound vigor that filled the Wolf with relief. He would have to tend to her wounds, yes.. and likely raise her, too, given how few had survived the attack on this village. Perhaps he could let her return once she were old enough to complete her training.
He didn't know why he felt attached to this child. Was it pity? Grief that he never healed from? That was several hundred years ago.. how did it still feel like this, raw as ever?
Wolf felt an aching void in his heart. It was hard to tell what emotion it was. It just felt like pain.
This girl must feel immense pain, too. Death touched the end of his nose to her forehead, mouth curling into a bitter grimace. Her family is gone. Her village is torn to the ground.
Perhaps.. this once.. I can make an exception..
My daughter..
MY daughter...