Harry slowly hovered his hand over the black parchment before tracing his fingers over the words, a soft, melancholy smile gracing his lips.

The words swirled again as Death watched the Boy Who Lived.

‘They watch over you, always.’ The silver words shimmered on the dark surface.

Harry felt a mist covering his eyes as his lip quivered. Sensing his emotional state, Ron and Hermione reached out simultaneously, placing their hands on his back in a comforting gesture.

Harry sniffled and took a moment to compose himself before taking a deep breath.

“Do you both want anything?” he asked Ron and Hermione, his voice thick with emotion.

“You can still ask to talk to them,” Ron suggested gently.

“I am just happy they watch over me. I can talk to them when the time is right, without disturbing their rest,” Harry said with a firm shake of his head.

Death leaned back into his seat after he heard the exchange. His shrouded head moved as he gave Ron and Hermione a glance each before resting his elbow on the armrest of his obsidian chair comfortably.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other before looking back to Death.

“I… do not really want anything either,” Ron muttered.

He gestured to Hermione with a nod, indicating she should take the wish if she wanted it.

“Well, I suppose I could ask for knowledge,” Hermione began, biting her lip. “Though, I like the pursuit of knowledge as much as I like learning new things. If I just had it all given to me, it would defeat the purpose. So, there is nothing I want either,” she said, leaning back into her chair with a resolute nod.

A moment of silence passed, broken only by the sound of creaking bone as Death tilted his head to the side.

‘Nothing?’

The parchment read before Death moved his hand to point a skeletal finger outside the window toward the darkened world.

‘I could change the world for you. Put down Voldemort. Or make a powerful artifact for you.’

The primordial entity made his offer through the parchment, tempting them with what they wanted.

“I will kill him myself,” Harry whispered, referring to Voldemort. His voice was low and .

“I will change the magical world for the better myself, when I become the Minister of Magic,” Hermione said with equal conviction.

Ron just shrugged. He would be there to help his friends achieve their goals and craft magical objects himself if he ever needed any. He needed no handouts from the reaper.

Death retracted his hand, placing it on his lap before letting out a long, rattling sigh.

He had wanted to be done with the contract so there would be no lingering obligations for him to fulfill later.

“You can keep the contract as well, sir. We would not wish for it to fall into any wrong hands,” Harry suggested, pushing the black parchment back across the table toward Death.

The god did not stand on ceremony. He snapped his fingers, and a tear in reality formed on the table beside the contract.

It looked like a wound in the air, glowing with eldritch fire. A burning skeletal hand reached out from the opening, snatched the parchment, and dragged it inside.

The opening closed the next moment, sealing shut as if it had never existed.

The children did not speak, just opting to look at each other awkwardly in the wake of such bizarre feats.

They watched Death raise his hand to the side, framing it against the window before pinching his fingers together.

Death’s thumb and index finger pinched together beside the visual of the moon, as if the god was trying to grasp the celestial body between his digits.

The moonlight outside seemed to intensify, warping and bending toward him for a moment before three coins materialized between his fingers.

Death placed the coins on the table before sliding them toward the children.

Three silver coins made a scraping sound as they slid across the wood before resting perfectly in front of the three friends.

The kids looked at each other before picking up the coins. They saw that the metal did not have any engravings, faces, or numbers.

Instead, they bore black marks on both sides, perfect, miniature replicas of the moon’s surface.

They looked up to where Death was moments ago.

There was no one there, not even the chair.

Only the sound of a flap of wings and the rustling curtains by the window remained as an indication that Death was ever there.

“You know what? That was not that bad,” Ron said, his voice taking a higher pitch at the end, betraying his nerves.

“What are you on about? We just saw a hand from Hell rip that table open and take that parchment!” Hermione protested, her eyes wide with lingering shock.

“Oh! Pish posh,” Ron muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I wonder what the coins do…” he muttered, studiously ignoring the scathing look Hermione was drilling into the side of his head.

“He could have at least told us before he left,” Harry concurred, inspecting the coin intently while Pyra sniffed at the celestial silver.

“You too?” Hermione asked Harry with an exasperated tone.

“Oh, come on, Hermione. We met Death himself and lived. Let us not dwell on the details,” Ron said.

He got up and stretched his back, cracking it loudly before he started walking out of the room. Hermione opened her mouth to protest further, though she only ended up sputtering indignantly for a few moments.

Eventually, she just picked up her coin and started inspecting it with academic curiosity.

“I suppose even you have a point sometimes,” she muttered to herself in a low voice, following the boys out.

| With Aaric, in the Dreamlands |

This night, Daphne and Fleur had opted out of coming to the Dreamlands, while Luna was off with Hestia, exploring the realm.

That gave Eilistraee the opportunity to fulfill the promise she had made to Aaric.

“Are you sure you are fine with us going to collect some gods?” Aaric asked her as they rode atop a massive silver dragon, the wind whipping past them.

“I am,” Eilistraee answered simply, a playful smile dancing on her face.

“Who are we starting with then?” Aaric asked with a shrug.

“Let us start with Dendar, or Nidhogg as the Norse gods call her,” Eilistraee muttered with a nod.

They did not go to any island this time. Eilistraee wrapped her arms around Aaric as the dragon dove straight down into the Dreamlands ocean beneath them.

A magical barrier covered everyone as the water just rippled by them harmlessly, shielding them from the pressure and the wetness.

“You see, Dendar spends her time devouring mortal nightmares. Which is why she dwells in these great oceans, the subconscious of the realm,” she explained to Aaric.

They moved through the water, the visibility dimming the deeper they went until the blue turned to an inky black.

“Why is there no other being in this ocean?” Aaric asked Eilistraee when they had not come across a single aquatic being in the hours they had spent moving deeper.

“There are. They are just rare,” Eilistraee answered.

Aaric just shrugged and got comfortable in her arms as she held him against the chill of the deep.

Eventually, they paused at a certain depth with nothing but absolute darkness visible beneath them.

“Watch,” Eilistraee whispered to Aaric.

She extended her hand in front of them. She made a grabbing motion with her hand, and the ocean around them swirled and moved in obedience to her will.

The silver dragon beneath them used its magic to form a beam of concentrated light in front of them, which allowed for a small amount of visibility in the abyss.

Though, seeing the thing emerging from the ocean made Aaric think they were better off without the light.

A great serpent, easily three hundred feet long, emerged from the depths. She had her mouth open as if hissing, making her four massive fangs visible.

There were skeletons and even fresh humanoid bodies tangled in her maw at the moment, remnants of the nightmares she had consumed.

“We don’t need to see that,” Eilistraee muttered.

She made a swift motion with her hand that caused the creature’s mouth to slam shut instantly against its will.

“I guess the moonlight essence helped you a lot, huh?” Aaric muttered.

He got a melodic hum from her in return.

Aaric’s words were an understatement to say the least. Eilistraee had almost reached the level of the Void Gods with her bath in the essence, and her power was growing still.

“Use your eyes,” Eilistraee whispered to Aaric.

He did just that. He activated his Oculi Viridiflora, pushing his will onto the beast.

He felt no resistance from the snake, as its mind had been completely suppressed by Eilistraee to help with its subjugation.

“I’ll give this one to Mom,” Aaric muttered to himself as the massive form of Dendar went still before disappearing.

They moved toward their next target. Aaric had planned to divide the gods between himself and his mother, as that distribution of power would be useful in his plan for ascension.

A/n: I did rush the chapter at the end coz I did not have much time for editing.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep