Seasons of Mist by Neil Gaiman Episode 1, p. 23 panels 1-2

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A lone figure stood upon the hill of shifting sand. He was garbed in a long brown robe, the hood of which was pulled up, obscuring his eyes from the outside world. In his arms he held a great leather covered book. The book was fitted with a chain that was manacled to his wrist. Even if he wanted to, he could not put the book down. It was as much a part of him as he was a part of it.

Below him, he watched a scene play out. A band of thieves and cutthroats had come upon a lone man walking in the desert. The man was fighting against the marauders but the odds were not in his favor. As the man continued to fight for his life, the observer bent down and drew a figure in the sand. It started as an oval from the bottom of which he drew a single line. He then crossed the line. The figure he drew was an ankh.

As he drew, he spoke. "Sister, I stand not in my gallery but I draw your sigil upon the sand. Would you join me?" With a sound of rustling wings, he found himself accompanied by a woman. He stood up and looked at her. Her long black hair was braided down her back. She wore a gown of a blue so deep that it appeared black. As always she was clothed in the height of style, this time being the long gowns preferred by the women of Babylon. Around her neck she wore a gold collar, from which a small gold ankh was suspended. Her smile was warm and genuine.

"Destiny, what causes you to be out of your garden? In all of our existence, I can't remember a time when you left your realm," she asked him.

"A moment of great importance is about to occur, my sister. The like of which will not occur again, ever, and I felt the urge to witness it first hand," he replied, the tone of his voice giving no indication of emotion.

A highly manicured eyebrow rose on his sister's face. "Oh?"

"Look below," he said motioning with his unshackled hand towards the skirmish in the sands.

"So? I see men fighting. None of them are to enter my realm today, why call me? Shouldn't this be something for our youngest brother to witness, it's really more his territory." She crossed her arms in front of her and watched the men.

The hooded figure smiled at his sister. "There is no need to call Destruction. I just thought you might be interested in seeing this. The one who defends shall be denied your realm for quite some time. He is one of the new creations," he explained.

She looked up at her brother quizzically. "New creations?" she asked. He nodded at her. Realization slowly crept across her face, "Oh, one of THEM." She returned her attention back to the men. In silence the siblings stood upon the dune and watched.

One of the attackers ran his sword through the traveler, causing him to cry out in pain and fall to the ground, lifeless. Quickly the thieves ransacked the dead man's belongings and person for anything of value and left.

"I must meet this man," the woman said and disappeared.

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A rush of air filled his lungs, burning him as he tried to breathe. He opened his eyes only to see nothing but his long black hair obscuring his vision. He pushed his hair out of his face and cried out in surprise. Kneeling over him was a beautiful woman. Her skin as pale as alabaster, her hair as black as midnight, her eyes as blue as the sky. An amused smile played across her sensual lips. He tried to speak, to say something witty and charming to this creature of heaven. Instead, all he could do was cough.

"Here," the mysterious woman said, "let me help you sit up." The world swam as he tried to sit up too fast. He let out a groan as his reality protested its new orientation. "Careful now."

Once the world had righted itself, he looked up at the woman and gave her, what he hoped was his most charming smile. "What brings a beautiful woman like you to my side in the middle of the desert?" he asked her.

"Destiny," she replied cryptically. That was definitely not the answer he expected. He examined the woman more closely. Her features were striking but not out of the ordinary. She appeared to be fairly young, but he had the feeling that she was much older than she looked. "Are you alright, Methos?" she asked.

He began to tremble. He had not told her his name. Only one of the gods or Endless would know who he was without asking. His eyes fell upon her necklace, and he felt the color drain from his face. He looked down at his tunic to find it stained with blood. His blood. He looked up and into her eyes.

"I know you," he said. "You're Death. You've come to take me to the lands of the Sunless Shore."

She smiled warmly at him. "Yes, Methos, I am Death, but… "

"I'm dead," he whispered, interrupting her.

"No you're not, you're…" she started but was interrupted again.

"But I was stabbed. You're here before me. How can I not be dead?" Confusion was written clearly on his strongly chiseled face.

"As I was saying before you interrupted me," Death continued, "I am Death, but I have not come for you. Not today, anyway."

"I-I-I don't understand," Methos stammered, more confused than ever.

"You are one of the Creator's latest creations," she said. "What is to become known as an Immortal. Which I find highly amusing because nothing is truly immortal. Not even Us. Soon one like you will come and teach you the ways of your new life. I only came here today because I wanted to meet one of your kind. I was curious."

"I'm immortal but not immortal. You talk in riddles," he complained, shaking his head as if doing so would make the things she said make sense.

Death laughed. Not a cold and calculating laugh like he expected, but a warm, honest laugh that indicated that she found what he said humorous. "You think I'm bad, you should meet my siblings. You try getting a straight answer out of Destiny. Or worse yet, Delirium. Come, Methos, let us walk together. Tell me about yourself. What brought you out to the middle of nowhere and all alone?" She helped him to his feet and together they began the journey across the sands to the city of Ur.

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Destiny stood watching his eldest younger sister walk away with the man. He opened his great book and read a page to himself.

And so it came to pass that Methos awakened into his Immortality and, with the intervention of Destiny, Death was there to greet him. A friendship was born that was to last for millennia.

Destiny closed his book; satisfied that what was to happen, happened. He smiled. With that thought, he returned to his garden.

TO BE CONTINUED…