Her apartment was cold, just like she liked it to be, and dark, due to the curtains still being drawn together. She could still smell the freshly painted walls she decided to decorate last night, all by herself. With only getting days off once a century, she had no free time, therefore she usually hired someone to decorate her house for her. As silly as that sounded she enjoyed decorating and would give anything to be able to have free time to do just that.

With her eyes, she could see the bright orange walls, even in the dark, due to her night vision which was a common trait of the immortals. She Grabbed her signature black cloak from the white sofa and opened the door leading towards her small balcony, stepping onto the black tile flooring her feet decorated with black simple flat shoes. She reached inside the pocket of the cloak and grabbed the packet of chewing gums she always carried with her, placing one in her mouth to get rid of the coffee taste residue. Just like always when waiting for her responsibilities, she began quietly observing the human population of London, her previous happiness gone from her system.

As if she never knew happiness to begin with.

The busy street was far too ostentatious, filled with tourists of all cultures imaginable. The conservative feel of England has long disappeared, replaced by the known multicultural haven. It was fascinating to Amara, how relaxing it was, watching all the mortals getting by, completing the tasks of their everyday life. It helped her forget, she was a mere puppet, a doll, held in the hands of destiny. She was but another piece of the puzzle to complete the perfect balance.

She was used to the lonely feeling in this overcrowded city, for no one visited her in one hundred years. Of course, if you don't include her weekly visits with Elisabeth. Today was the day Thanatos should bring her the centurial plan of souls, just like every century but she was not counting the hours as she used to in the past.

'It's quite odd dear Amara, how I got used to knowing, I will find you here. No matter what the weather is like, you are standing on this balcony,' her calm relaxation interrupted a deep, familiar voice.

She ignored him, yet felt his gaze burning her skin, his eyes most probably following her every move. It was how he always evaluated creatures he was in a small proximity with; Him being Thanatos, her master, and the one and only owner of all descended souls.

Instead, she kept on observing the humans, who were trying in vain to escape the cruel rainwater, which had no mercy for any living being, but Amara. She seemed to be the only creature who enjoyed the bitter rainwater, soaking through her black cloak. Even her plain black jeans and tank top seemed to be sticking to her skin.

The cooling water was soothing to her burning cheeks, a pleasant distraction from the responsibilities which awaited her once again. She took one last moment, to allow herself to forget those. Her other distraction it seemed, was the confines of this very balcony, decorated by a black bamboos fencing - an almost suffocating prison. Its powerful embrace, however, was her solitude where she sought much-needed escape, even if it meant she would be alone.

'Peculiarity makes our core, dear Duke. I thought you might know that better than anyone else,' Amara told him, after a moment of grateful peace, turning towards him, yet still avoiding to look at him.

Thanatos was most probably shocked she decided to speak at all.

There was an unwritten etiquette how one should act towards someone as high rank as Thanatos and Amara did not greet him as a proper disciple should greet their owner. To most creatures in Amara's world, Thanatos was known as the Duke of Syndesi and the owner of all souls. Some did not even dare to acknowledge his given forename.

There was also a circulating story amongst the immortals, which was a well-known perception. According to this rumour, his heart was made of pure tungsten, the hardest natural metal known to all creatures. Undeniably, if that was true, it would be no surprise not even emotions could melt through it. And although Amara had no knowledge of this world, even she heard the gossip.

Yet she hardly ever believed canards, no matter how true the words might have sounded.

'Peculiar indeed, just like the weather today. It is beautiful is it not?' He asked.

It was Thanatos' question which made Amara look at him for the very first time since he visited that morning. He stood near the door of the small, almost claustrophobic balcony, his eyes closed, and his face raised towards the sky as the droplets landed proudly on his face. His thin lips were pulled into a haunting smile, his captivating wings tucked proudly behind his back. She could not help but be enchanted by the beauty of the black, silky smooth feathers, although, this was not the first time she laid eyes on them. The nature of them was more than worthy of the high deity. Nothing was demure about him, nor the wings.

The wings were not the only thing which could be considered beautiful about the prince. His face was smooth and pale as if carved by the best of sculptors and his body was lean, yet well defined as if he himself was a mortal Olympic athlete.

However, as Thanatos looked into Amara's irises, nothing was considered eerier than his bloodcurdling black eyes. They could hold the power to leave any creature frozen, hypnotised if Thanatos fancied.

'It's a shame really, milady, I remember your greetings which used to be so much warmer.'

Amara tried to keep her face clean of any visible emotions, simply blank. It worked wonderfully. No wonder when she had many lifetimes of practice. She stopped finding it in her to greet Thanatos, like an obedient servant should do, for, she wholesomely turned to a stone long centuries ago.

The glisten in his black eyes was unmissable.

He almost looked sad.

Yet how was Amara to know how he felt deep inside when she long lost all her touch with the outside world?

Instead, she lived in her real world which, if truth be told, was unsympathetic to someone like Amara. It barely mattered if she was one of the hundreds, who just like her, collected souls descending from the mortal realm when she never even gazed at the other soul gatherers. Amara never met them, spoke to them, nor seen them. She was locked in her own world and most of her long existence, she only conversed with the dying mortals.

After far too many years of living this way, it would take a real master not to become cold, almost bland, very uncaring.

Yet that was not what made her oblivious to pain the most. It was the practice of her job which taught her to shut her heart out of reach.

'No matter,' he shrugged.

Thanatos placed the palm of his right hand upwards. A black transparent smoke appeared and was almost straight away, replaced by a roll of yellowing paper. A red formal wax seal, a mark of the emblem representing Syndesi, helped to prevent unrolling.

The emblem was one of the things which were deeply engraved in Amara's memory; hands embracing universe, the stars representing sand and the hands representing an hourglass. At times, this emblem was accompanied by the slogan of death, Time cannot be owned, nor controlled.

Amara never questioned the lists, yet nevertheless, it was more than odd why it even mattered, if the names were written or not. What difference would it make if a black and white proof was available, or wasn't? It simply was not necessary, when it was their instincts alone, which made the soul gatherers collect souls when the time was up for the mortals. Or more adequately, it was the serpent each soul gatherer held a mark of, which made them vision the mortals every excruciating moment of their life. Even at night when they were forced to endure the nightmares which told them exactly what they needed to know, if not more.

Amara, who might have looked not a day over twenty, held a proud mark of a king cobra, gracefully engraved on her shoulder blade. Just like a true birthmark, for she could hardly recall her skin being clear of its sign. It was the identity of what she represented, of what she was.

Thanatos reached out, holding the roll for her to take, yet held it a moment longer, 'Be ever so kind and do not lose this one,' he spoke, his voice painted with a light threat. A smirk slowly developed on his thin pale lips, 'I don't enjoy frequent visitations, you should know this considering my last visit was a whole century ago.'

It was a dry attempt at a joke and she would have laughed, for that kind of humour was the best. However, his words hit home in the exact place, where it hurt the most.

She could only answer blandly, ignoring the slight, hurtful pang, 'I won't.'

Amara stood up, turned face-to-face towards the male. With her eyes averted downwards, she reached out for the list and Thanatos let the list drop into her smaller hand. The list which will automatically refresh itself after each one thousand names. It made sure Thanatos did not have to visit his soul gatherer's very often.

How clever of him indeed.

Even that day, she did not dare to question the list and grabbed it as if it was the necessity of her life, or what was an illusion of living. The list she always carried close to her, yet the names of the mortals were painfully engraved inside of her for she was made to see the future, whilst the mortals were saved from the constant reminders.

'Although I came here to give you the list, that is not why I came here exactly. I am having the anniversary centurial ball today and because I see you as my most trusted soul gatherer, I want you to be there,' Thanatos informed suddenly.

Amara almost choked on the very air she breathed in and she also struggled to not drop the list on the floor after she barely got used to its rough edges. Not only was the centurial ball something she was not permitted to go to until this day, Thanatos never said or made her feel anything but an annoying servant he had to own. She suspected there was more to this sudden change and therefore waited for him to elaborate.

He did not say another word and she doubted he would gift her an explanation.

Thanatos only moved forward on Amara's almost claustrophobic balcony, stretching his wings and taking her small hand into his long, yet masculine fingers. His wings wrapped around her frame in a protective manner, allowing them to teleport. His pitch-black eyes remained glued onto Amara's bright blue ones, as black smoke surrounded them, reaching her nostrils, overpowering all her senses.

She felt uneasy, for, she has not been in Thanatos' residency in a very long time, longer than mortals could comprehend.