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The box of glass covered the newborn like a fragile shell. The baby was all but hidden in a sea of wires and tubes. The mother slept fitfully in a hospital bunk close by, a sleep of exhaustion and medical morpheus.
Hovering over the newborn child, invisible to all except for those who could see and with wings outstretched protectively, was the spirit of new life itself. The Stork. Looking down upon the child she saw that even though she had done all she could, there was little hope left. She knew what was to come, and sadly turned to leave…
"GOOD EVENING."
The voice was cold and deep, like the rattling and booming of shattered gravestones.
"Well met, milord Death." she replied politely, if a little coldly. A stork's throat did not lend itself well to communication, so she had had to pick out a voice more suited to her needs long ago; calming, soothing, yet oddly pervading. The kind of voice to get under your skin without you quite knowing how it got there.
She turned back to look at the fragile oblong of glass, and then at the shadow of Death, not so much looming or threatening as simply waiting rather politely for something. He cleared his throat quietly and picked at tiny pieces of matter on the blade of his scythe. Slowly her anger boiled to the surface, until finally she couldn't stand it any longer.
"Do you really have to take the child?!" she clumsily blurted out.
Death appeared shocked at the outburst, or at least as shocked as an expressionless skull can be (which was quite a lot actually). Before now the two had been cordially professional towards each other in their increasingly rare meetings, only making small talk about how busy things were getting during baby booms or plagues or the like.
Death looked back at the angry Stork, standing there with her indignant feathers all ruffled and secretly worrying if she'd kicked a hornet's nest.
"YOU KNOW WHY I MUST DO THIS," he replied. "I DO NOT QUESTION THE NATURAL ORDER. I MERELY ENFORCE IT."
"The natural order? Pah! That clueless duo of Fate and Destiny you mean! You know as well as I that they have yet to overcome free will. No matter how hard they try!"
"NO." The sudden proclamation startled the Stork, causing her to flap her retreat to the other side of the baby in the box.
"I DO NOT SERVE THEM. I WILL TAKE THEM TOO, IN DUE COURSE. NEVERTHELESS, THE BALANCE MUST BE UPHELD. YOU KNOW THIS TO BE TRUE."
Sadly, her beak nodded in agreement. She could argue that this child could grow up to become a great hero, but she knew the counter-argument already; the child could equally as easily become the next Hitler. The balance was in all things, and had to be preserved. Glancing down again, tears began to fall.
"But I don't have to like the situation!" she cried, her eyes accusing and wet, "Don't you care at all? How can you be so cold?"
Death looked at the Stork with curiosity… and was that a hint of sadness?
"YOU MISUNDERSTAND MY PURPOSE HERE" he said quietly, adding in tired tones "MANY DO."
"IF I WERE NOT HERE, WHO WOULD LEAD THE CHILD FROM THIS PLACE? WHO WOULD ALLEVIATE CONFUSION, WHO WOULD COMFORT AND EXPLAIN WHAT IS TO HAPPEN NEXT? WOULD YOU WISH ANY INFANT, ANY PERSON GO THROUGH THIS HARD TIME ALONE?"
The Stork was astonished by this new perspective. She began to stutter an apology for offending the reaper, but was silenced by one bony finger and an announcement that it was time. She took one last look at the baby barely visible amongst the tubes and wires. It was a little girl.
His task complete, the bright young soul nestled sleeping in the crook of his arm, Death turned to go. Yet hesitating before departure he called back to the Stork in a more friendly manner;
"I DO NOT BLAME YOU, MADAM STORK, FOR TRYING TO SAVE HER."
"Why not?" she replied.
"IT IS IN YOUR NATURE! LIFE DOES TEND TO STRIVE, DOES IT NOT? AGAINST ALL ODDS."