Ramses clutched his chest painfully. The wound was slowly closing. Even that legendary blade could not kill him. The dagger could not grant him death since his sins could not be forgiven. 

His body was already exhausted. His consciousness is eaten by sleepiness. Ramses got down on his knees when his body turned weak. His eyelids became heavier. Before he fell on the ground, his right-hand man pulled his arm upwards.

"Raven..." he called his disciple. "It would be nice if I didn't wake up in this deep slumber."

"I'm sorry, Master. Forgive me if I couldn't grant you the peace and salvation you sought all along. All I can do is to accompany you till you close your eyes in your sleep and wait for you to open your eyes until you're awake."

"Of all the mistakes I had committed, you are the only one that made me feel I did the right thing, Raven. I will stop creating immortals. I will not make this big mistake ever again. A human who was born in this world as a human should die as a human. If there are others like me, I won't let them ruin the natural ways of the world. Immortals like us shouldn't be existing in the first place."

"At least you have to take a servant, Master."

He laughed bitterly. "Is there such a person who will accept the same fate as mine? My previous servants died because they couldn't."

"Like Julio said, maybe he or she isn't born yet. Perhaps when you wake up, the heavens will let you meet that fateful soul, Master."

Ramses shook his head. "Heaven is not on my side, Raven. Because if it is, that woman who holds the string of my life should have been reborn. Just how long will I wait for a promise that I already forgot and couldn't even remember." Ramses finally closed his eyes. "If that woman were reborn, then I wouldn't need a servant. She would be all I needed in my remaining hours... she's the only one."

Darkness eats the light. Time consumes life. Everything has an end. Everyone was born to die. 

Those words are irrelevant to the likes of them. Moreover, to someone who couldn't define death.

"Goodnight, Master. I hope you'll be at peace at least in your long, long slumber."

PRESENT 

With a wry face, Miles unfolded and pulled her jacket's sleeves from her elbow to hide those scrapes on her arms. She drew the scooter's kickstand and pushed it to the driveway in front of an average-sized bungalow.

She carefully opened and closed the steel gate to avoid disturbing her stepmother, who was taking a siesta that afternoon.

Miles clicked her tongue while she was examining the damage on the scooter. It has scratches near the headlights and the rubber handle is almost stripped on the brake. But thank god it was not a big accident!  

Miles almost knocked a child who suddenly crossed the street in front of a nursery school. She avoided the child, but she fell on the road when she turned the scooter away. It's good that she was wearing a helmet; if not, she would have surely suffered a head injury. The mother of the child scolded her, though she's the one who neglected her child by not paying enough attention. She was busy gossiping with the other parents and left her child alone.

The mother even threatened to sue her. Miles didn't say anything or defend herself. She just waited for the mother to calm down, then she apologized just to end the conversation. They were drawing unwanted attention from the pedestrians, so she left after bowing her head to the mother a few times.

Miles was delivering beauty products that her stepmom sold online. She's the one who always does the job when she has a spare moment. She had a regular job at a flower shop as a delivery girl. Her job starts at eight in the morning and ends at five in the afternoon on weekdays. After that, she would go straight to her other part-time job as a cashier at a convenience store.

It was almost dawn when she went home from Monday to Friday. On weekends, she had a shift in the morning in the grooming service of a pet shop. At the age of twenty-one, Mile's life revolved around her job. She was determined to save money to enter a university. That's why she works so hard. 

Miles graduated from senior high school, but she couldn't go into college when her dad died in a car collision. Her dad had a high position at the company he had been working at, and their life was still stable in the past. But it changed in an instant. From a big townhouse where they resided inside an exclusive subdivision, they moved to an old house in a residential compound near the main road pavement.

Her stepmother sold their town house because, according to her, their dad didn't leave them enough money to get by. Even her dad's insurance money was handled by her stepmother, and Miles didn't get the chance to know the exact amount. She didn't complain about it and just let it be. For Miles, being left behind by her family was scarier than losing money. 

Miles heaved a deep sigh. She left the scooter alone after her inspection. With an unsteady gait, she entered their house. It looks like she sprained her ankle when she fell from the scooter. She should have gone to the hospital before she came home.

"Hey, what happened to you?"

Miles almost jumped in surprise when her stepmother, Aunt Sylvia, suddenly appeared behind her in the living area. The middle-aged woman was wearing a loose duster, had a few rollers in her hair, and was carrying a big can of biscuits.

"Nothing happened, Auntie," Miles answered hastily. She straightened her back and pretended there was nothing wrong with her body. "I'd already delivered the lipstick and perfume to Mrs. Agoncillo. Even those foundations of three college students at Mrs. Pedrita's boarding house, they already had it." 

Aunt Sylvia held out her hand. "Did they pay you? You should have told them that I wouldn't allow credits."

Miles swiftly took the cash inside the pocket of her jeans. "I wrote those who paid whole and those who paid in installments on the memo pad. I put it inside the catalogue. " She gave the money along with the paper bag of different brands of cosmetics. "There were also new orders in there, Auntie. Just check it out."

Aunt Sylvia just nodded with a poker face. "Make us some coffee, Miles. It looks like I will be playing longer with this cash I have."

- to be continued -