Chapter Text
The world was forever unchanging for someone like Castiel. The world was filled with countless beings, from lowly insects, to proud predators and even gods, and yet, none of them mattered. In the end, everything would return to the darkness they were pulled out of, and they would rest into the domain of stillness that Castiel was looking over. Even the other gods had it written in their fate, no matter how much more time they had until it compared to others, no matter how much they dreaded it, or even how much they looked at Castiel with cold looks. There was nothing they could do about it, that was simply the cycle of existence for all living beings. The Creator would bring one into the world, and death would deliver them back into Castiel’s domain sooner or later.
But Castiel didn’t resent his job. He found pride in the heavy and honorable duty of preserving the circle of not even life, but existence. Nothing had a place in the balance of the universe forever and death was but a transient state. He made sure that the energy of what was once living - or as some cultures called it, the soul - didn’t overflow into the world. “Souls” were not lost, but put to eternal, peaceful rest, in his dark domain that no one else could access. No matter who or what it was that it was dying, that was were they would end up, with Castiel as the only exception to the rule.
He thought that was well understood and respected. He thought that no one would dare interfere with such an essential rule of existence. He thought he could just do his job in peace, but then he was proven wrong. The other gods ambushed him, banded together against him, perhaps in a misguided attempt to stop their eventual death. But he was not the god of death, no such thing existed since death was just a part of life the way birth was, he was simply the one stopping the departed souls from returning to the world where they didn’t belong anymore and wreaking havoc. What was dead was supposed to remain still forever, without happiness nor sadness. But those who were still alive were still facing sadness and fear, the overwhelming fear that they were next. The other gods knew they would eventually die as well, and they had to blame it on someone, and Castiel was more tangible than death itself.
He was the only one who would never die, and the others knew that. They always looked at him with contempt and disgust, treating him as the reason they would not live eternally. But Castiel was not the god of death, no such thing existed since death was just a part of life the way birth was, he was simply the one stopping the departed souls from returning to the world where they didn’t belong anymore and wreak havoc. What was dead was supposed to remain still forever, without happiness nor sadness. But those who were still alive were still facing sadness and the overwhelming fear that they were next, so the other gods chose to take out those feelings on him.
Castiel was, of course, in no danger of dying, but the surprise and combined attack hurt regardless and weakened him. Forced to flee from the realm where gods usually resided, he headed to the first place on Earth where he could lay low, a forest that the humans did not reach yet. Among only the ruffling of leaves and the thrills of bird, he was forced to admit he should not return to the others, at least for a few millennia, after one of the other gods would have perished in his absence so they would see how worthless attacking him was. But even then, they would not welcome him back. The simple fact was that they didn’t want him around, and he didn’t want to have to deal with them anymore either. He didn’t need them, in fact he never needed anyone. He appeared in existence alone, and he was going to be alone forever. That was the cycle of his life.
He felt something itchy in the corner of his eye, but was still surprised when a tear fell down on his face. He rushed to remove it and remind himself that it was not something that should sudden him. The only thing that should ever sudden someone as important as him was an inability to perform his duty, which was not the case, not even in his weakened state.
“My duty,” he whispered, and felt if he was just woken up from a dream. He became aware of everything around him, everything else feeling more real than the complex duty he had spent so much of his existence focusing on. But there was one more part to his duty, a rule whose purpose he didn’t ever question before. To avoid any attachments that would get in the way of his job, he was forbidden from creating life in any form. He had never questioned that rule or any other rule that the Creator gave them all, but apparently he was the only one showing that grace. If the other gods rebelled against the rules just to hurt him and isolate him even further, what was the point in him holding onto the rules.
It was indeed such a beautiful place, one perfect for anyone to live in. Castiel only wanted to create a single person anyway, one that wouldn’t be scared of him. He didn’t know how to do it exactly, he had never tried it before, but he was a god. Whatever a god desired could become reality, that was the general rule. He felt the glacial coldness of his power wash over him as he closed his eyes and tried to imagine that person he wanted to bring into existence, but it was hard to think of the details. Castiel didn’t care how that person would look like, all he could imagine was something humanoid, something similar to him but not the same. He tried and tried to define it better, but ended up letting out a sigh of defeat. How was he supposed to imagine something he never had? Perhaps this was a foolish idea and he wouldn’t get anything out of trying to anger the Creator.
He opened his eyes and had to blink a few times, confused as to where he was. There was no forest around him anymore. There was no songbird or leaves rustling anymore, it was all so quiet and unnerving. The ground, which had been green just minutes prior, was now a scorched and gray, devoid of any sign of life. The realization began to settle in for Castiel. He was the one who had done this. If only he hadn’t tried to create life, this forest wouldn’t be dead. The other gods had been right in treating him as if he was death incarnate.
He kneeled to the ground and placed his hand upon it. “Never again, I swear” he promised to the world. This would be the place of his exiled, the place he’d only leave to visit the realm where he tended to the reaped souls. Loneliness was all he ever had and all he ever deserved. It was time for him to accept that and he was determined to do so.