Apples of the Earth: A Technoblade x Reader (ON HIATUS)

Chapter 19: Kristin

People are always so curious as to what happens after death: the idea of ghosts, an afterlife, resurrection, etcetera. Yet it is so frequently called "eternal rest". Would that make it a dream? Is the dream life, or the afterlife? So many questions spiral from random thoughts.

You've most likely heard of the grim reaper, the one who takes your soul to whatever comes next.
Well, it's not a person. It's a job.
There are thousands of grim reapers guiding would to the afterlife, each one unique in their own way. Some specialise in taking certain souls — the souls of children, for example — while others simply roam the world and guide any souls they come across. The aim is to bring the souls to the afterlife and give them their eternal rest. Some... less deserving souls often refuse to follow the reapers at first, claiming they deserve all kinds of praise for clearly unsavoury acts. When it comes to that, the reapers usually just let them continue to wander the earth; that gives them time to reflect and learn as they watch life go on without them. Some would call this a cruel punishment, having to be ignored until they changed the way they thought.

To Kristin, this was just how it was.

Kristin is the goddess of death, you know that much. But you're probably wondering what her job entails.
Her job is to aid spirits disturbed from their eternal rest. Eternal rest is, in fact, very similar to a dream: memories from their life, random stories woven by their minds. They can also watch over family and friends they've had to leave behind.
With that comes problems.
It takes a lot to rouse a spirit from their eternal rest: wars, plagues, dystopian worlds, and so on. Only the spirits closest to the one most affected can be roused by this.
Some don't mind what is happening, and do not wake.
Others try their hardest to wake, but cannot.

The guidance of spirits and the work of gods are some of the only things that keep the world spinning sometimes.

Kristin was immediately worried when she appeared in that monochrome room.
The walls pitch black, while the ceiling was pure white clouds. Light pierced through the thinner parts, providing a surprisingly ideal level of brightness. The floor was a checkered tile: a pattern of obsidian and quartz. Faux pillars lined the walls, separating windows that peered out into nothing. When I say nothing, I mean nothing. A sheer black void surrounded this room from all sides, or for as much as the windows could reveal. Kristin would be lying if she said she hadn't once contemplated trying to break to window. Hell, she had tried before. However, not once had she ever been able to leave a smudge or scratch on the clear glass panels. She supposed it would just stay a riddle with no clear answer.

The room was a perfect square, with three identical walls. On the fourth wall, the wall Kristin always appeared facing, was a golden door with no handles. It was lined with the same half-columns as the windows, with a buttress arch above it. Along these pillars, golden vines clambered up to the ceiling, growing onto the door as well. It may of been her mind playing tricks, but on some occasions, Kristin swore some of the leaves had vanished, or more had grown. Then again, each visit to that room was usually years, often decades, separate. There was no real way to be sure unless she could memorise the number, size, and location of every individual leaf; that was a feat she didn't even want to humour by trying.

Kristin straightened her back as the doors groaned, swinging open with a grand gust of wind that tossed the skirt of her skirt and swayed her hair. Cloudy residue seeped into the room as a woman warily entered, not completely certain of her surroundings. She had pale grey and (h/c) hair, tied into a bun on the crown of her head with some strands framing her slim face. Her soft (e/c) eyes cautiously wandered the room, lingering slightly on the void-filled windows. Her shoulders adorned a shawl the colour of vanilla over the common white funeral wear most spirits adorned in the afterlife. While all were given the option to change what they wore, quite a few preferred to wear the funeral clothes their family's provided. It was understandable, seeing it was the only item of emotional value they'd be able to keep during their eternal rest. A chill shot up the ghost's spine as her socked feet settled upon the cold tile, having finally been lowered from the cloud she entered in. 

"Hello. Is this the place I can speak to someone about what I saw?", the spirit queried, holding the shawl tight to her slim frame. Kristin nodded in response. "I am Kristin, goddess of death. What shall I call you?", she asked in turn. Kristin felt a something odd upon hearing the name, as if it were one she would need to remember in particular. "My name is Annie, Annabel (L/n)." Kristin took a mental note of it, just to be safe. "Now, what exactly did you see, spirit?" Annie tensed, eyes void of emotion as she began to retell everything she saw.

"At first, I saw fortune: my little girl had found someone who made her oh so happy. I saw a grand cathedral, watched my baby walk up to alter full of life..." The window to their left suddenly flooded with light, a girl with a bouquet in hand walking down the isle. Kristin turned around upon feeling heat radiating from behind her. The spectre continued. "but then all I saw was red. I saw ruin, destruction, fire, so much smoke it blocked out the sun." The same girl from the first window was on the floor of the isle, debris scattered around her and the great stained glass window that was previously visible behind her was gone. As was the wall it was attached to. As described, smoke towered into the air and soot cascaded backdown, falling like snow. "Nothing clearly told me of what happened, but whatever it was is massive, devastation the kingdom has never seen before. Please, please, tell me something can be done to change this.", Annabel implored, grasping so tightly at her shawl it was sure to stretch or rip. The final window, the window to Kristin's right, was the one which scared her: her grandson asleep on his bed, a streak of white in the fur of his head and ash dirtying his clothes. Tear streaks left clear lines of orange down his cheeks, and Technoblade's red cloak was strewn over him like a blanket. Whatever this was would affect not only the kingdom as a whole, but her family in particular as well.

Kristin turned to Annabel and their eyes, both glazed over with unshed tears, locked with each others. "I will do everything in my power to protect your child, and the kingdom. You have my word as the goddess as death."

"I will do whatever it takes."