Azazel stomps right up to the World Tree, plucking the newest dead *sshole from the heavy leaden branches. Flicking the leaf into the blanket of nothingness beyond the grove of wildflowers. 

“That was harsh,” Nyssas gaze followed the leaf into the dark, eyebrow raised.

“So? Taking my job now, Golden Girl?” Az snapped back, spun around and slid down the bark of the tree. Sitting under the cool shade of the willow, eyes gazing through the leaves to the sky beyond. Calm brought cooling fingers up his sides as he relaxed into the tree. Another leaf, another life lost.

Nyssa huffed, turning slightly to the stream a little ways away, watering can hefted between her hands. Dipping it under the cool stream of freshest water, filling it to the brim. Readying herself, she leaned back until she could walk with the over full rusted can. Nyssa waddled herself back up to the willow, dropping the can as she arrived. 

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Az snorted.

“Oh, hush up.”  Heaving the pail once more, dumping the water unceremoniously. Colors brightened, the dark pushed back, the wild flowers in full bloom. She huffed in satisfaction joining Azazel under the tree. Pushing her golden wire rim glasses up her nose, she turned to Az. Golden eyes of a thousand colors and truth, bore into the silver of a full moon. 

“See something you like?” He snarked.

Nyssa’s face twisted into a frown, “What's wrong?”

“What do you mean?” The surrounding clearing became very interesting, grass of lush everspring swished between their feet. The best plush pallet for relaxing afternoon naps. Wildflowers dotted the field in pastel colors of youth. The center of which rose an elegant willow, draping the surrounding area in cool shadow. A stream runs to the side that feeds all it’s Earthly inhabitants.  The sun hangs directly overhead in eternal light. Beyond the field lies infinite nothingness, the black just outside the sunlit cove. A dreamscape that never changes. Dodging the golden eyes that always seemed to be able to pull truth from him. 

“Az,” she said slowly, “I’ve known you for how many millenia? I think I know when you're upset.” 

Sighing, Az lets his midnight bangs hang over his eyes, hiding emotions from his best friend. “It's nothing, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lips pursed, her scream contained, ripped her glasses of her face, “I swear on every power that made us, what in all time is wrong with you?” Making Az maintain eye contact with her. 

Bringing his knees up to his chest, Az sighed, “Why do they hate me?”

“Because they think you cut their lives short,” Nyssa responded. “They don’t know you hold off until the very last second to pull the leaves.” Azazel’s head whipped up so fast, it was a test of his immortality.

“I’m a monster.”   

“I don’t think so.”

“I tear families apart, mothers from children, husbands from wives, brothers from sisters,” his voice steadily rising. 

“And murderers, and terrorists, and dictactors, and abusers,” Nyssa suggested lightly. 

“But some one loved them too,” he basically shouted.

“Where is the motivation to live if it never ends?” Azazel freezes, confused, as Nyssa finally gets tired of his undeserved self loathing. “If no one ever dies, where is the satisfaction in living? Why live your best life if it never comes to an end? How do they know life is worth living, if they can't lose it?”

“But it's my fault…” 

“No, it is not. There are the ones who die, all you do is groom the tree for a new life to bloom.” Az stiffens at Nyssa harsh tone, her eyes soften, tone becoming light once more. “ If you were truly a monster you would never have felt bad in the first place.” She turns her back to him, walking slightly away from him. “So, no you are not a monster, just a tenet of time. It’s just the price we pay.”  

What they failed to notice was the spring of life drying as Az spoke these hateful words. Or how the flowers stared at the ground instead of viewing the warmth of the sun. How the darkness seemed to inch a little closer. They did not notice these little things in this once eternal spring. 

The two spectators continued with their separate assignments. Nurturing and killing, feeding and pruning, satisfying the cycle of mortality. 

Azazel's eyes scanned the surrounding area, “Something’s wrong.” 

“What?”

“The spring is smaller.”

“And?” Nyssa glanced at the stream she used every day. It was in fact starting to dry.

“It never dries, everything stays the same here.”

She waved away his concern, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“No, no it’s f*cking not, this sh*t doesn’t happen,” hands waving as if trying to play charades with an unwilling partner. Nyssa's eyes narrow as she inspects the evergreen field, noticing the dying grass, and wiltings flowers. Watching as the black blanket inch closer to the World Tree. 

Glasses sliding down her nose, she spoke, “That’s an issue.”

“No sh*t.”

Her eyes lazily return to Az’s, “Any Ideas?” 

A sheen of sweat dappled his brow as Az whispered, “It’s me.” When those words were uttered, he continued like he was possessed by the puppeteer of the Universe. “It’s my fault, my fault. I started doubting. I broke my role. I wasn’t supposed to be unhappy. I was supposed to be happy with my job. I screwed this up. It's me. It’s always me.” His words are heard in every dimension. The Veil of Darkness speeding up it’s slow march with each self-deprecating word uttered. 

Slowly, as if trying not to scare off a frightened animal, she approached him, arms wide. “Can I hold you?” Nodding, he collapsed into her arms, his strings having just been cut. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Over and over he muttered those sorrowful words.  

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll figure something out. It’s not your fault. We will get through this. We will be okay.” She kept muttering reassurances until his sobs finally slowed. 

The Veil crept closer, bit by bit. As Nyssa watched the blackness devour the evergreen field, a pang filtered through her chest. Of what she never knew, but it hurt. It hurts so much her vision began to blur, her breath quickening. Because what will happen to her? Her field, her garden of souls, was dying. What did that mean for her? 

Her equal and opposite was just that. As he gazed into the never ending abyss, resignation filled him. Like recognized like, and he greeted his self but not with a smile. A smile not of steel or of quick wit, but one of the same never ending peace of the dying meadow. 

It was close now, the end. There was nothing to stop it. Az contemplated for a moment that if there was a way to stop the encroaching darkness, would he do it? He came to his conclusion quite quickly. Nyssa's vision was tunneling, panic striking her bones. She did not want to die, she was the embodiment of life! This was not right! 

Yet it was. It was time for this time to come to an end. There were no more scientific achievements to be made, society was at its peak, and people could live for hundreds of years. It was time for it to end. To start anew. For new tenets to take their stage at time’s altar. It was time for Fall, autumn was setting in. 

Gaze straying from the blackness one last time, Az spoke, “It’s alright Nyssa, everything is going to be alright now.” The darkness reached out smoky tendrils to the immortals. Where it touched, there was no more. Az sent one last smile to Nyssa, “Thank you for spending eternity with me.” Nyssa sobbed as she smiled, because Az was happy for the first time since he received his immortality, and greeted death like an old friend. In a sense, it was. 

They were gone. Only the weeping willow stood now. And yet the tree did not weep for its own death, or the deaths of the lives it held within its branches. But for the young keeper of death, who finally got to rest. The old dying tree went willingly, time had run out. It vanished into the dark like it was never there. Like nothing ever was. 

Quiet. Calm. Stillness. Nothing. Waiting for the next spring after this dark winter. It was the Fall of eternity.