Title: the fear of thunder and the sword

Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Milton

Warnings: spoilers for the Horsemen arc

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 220

Point of view: third

Prompt: Any, any, "I have walked through many lives, some of them my own / And I am not who I was"

After five thousand years—and more, so much more—he has gone by more names, lived more lives, than anyone else can even begin to contemplate. He has been a conquering warlord, a high king, a supreme emperor, a chief and a priest, a servant and a slave, a prisoner and a toy, a shopkeeper and tavern owner, an inventor and a painter, a beggar and a thief. He was even the Pope for awhile. He has been a part of the history of every existing country, and many which no longer exist. His place in the history books is assured, though only he knows when he canters across the pages, sword in hand.

Always a sword, though he's mastered every weapon forged and fashioned, every weapon from a stone to the most sophisticated computer-guided missile.

He does not remember his name as a man, before he died and became Death. He does not remember the life he lived then, though he recalls perfectly every life since then. Whoever that man was, Methos knows that he could not have imagined what he would become, who he would be, the power he would wield.

Only he, Methos—Death—, can understand. There is no one else in the world close enough to be his equal to comprehend. Not anymore, and never again.