She is the goddess of death, and she exists only to serve him. He isthe light of her life, the center of her universe, the meaning of her existence. She used to have a name, but she can no longer remember it. Now, she's only his.

He keeps her close to him, never letting her out of his sight. She sits on the ground next to him and his throne, since that's where he wants her to sit. She doesn't mind it, even though the stone floor is hard and cold. Submitting to his wishes makes her happy.

Once, eternities ago, she wanted to escape him – but that was before he freed her from the chaos in her heart. Now, she can barely remember what it was like to be enslaved by emotions and thoughts. All she feels now is her love for him.

She rests her head on his lap, and he slowly strokes her hair. He returned to his human form after his victory in their final battle, though now he looks his vessel's true age. His hair is white as platinum, and his eyes are the color of the sea. She thinks he's impossibly beautiful.

She scoots closer to him, molding her body against his legs. He continues to stroke her hair, and she can feel his approval of her loving gesture. This fills her with happiness. She lives to please him; to make him happy. Nothing else matters.

The burden she carries is heavy; leading the souls of the dead, making sure they all reach their final resting place. She is the goddess of death, his goddess. His love is an honor, and she will cherish it forever.

She will be his forever.