Chapter Text
Time ticked by quickly for Faraday. He went about his new duties as a scythe, and would occasionally chat with Munira for a while, but that was about the extent of his activities nowadays.
Michael spent most of his time reminiscing, pondering the past. He often joked to himself that if Marie saw him now, she'd glean him for being stagnant, and he wouldn't exactly disagree with her. He did contemplate self-gleaning but decided against it if only to humour his curiosity.
Humanity appeared to be entering a new era. One without the Thunderhead. Of course, Michael didn't miss much when it declared everyone unsavoury. He could barely recall what it was like to have access to the sentient program. Those were memories from a completely different life after all.
Faraday sometimes found it difficult to fathom that he was once Gerald Van der Gans. It seems that that identity was the first casualty of scythehood. Sometimes he wondered what he would've become if he wasn't offered that fateful apprenticeship. Perhaps a teacher? A researcher? Either way, he'd most likely be a great deal happier.
However, Faraday did not regret his ordination. Even in his youth, he knew that Scythehood was a responsibility that he must take to contribute to society. Perhaps that was why he was so eager to take Marie on as an apprentice. He felt that although he was barely a scythe himself, he understood what was needed to make a good one.
Although Michael would probably not make the same decision again, he couldn't deny that his younger self chose well. Marie was truly an honourable scythe in every sense. Many times, he felt more so than him. Faraday found himself missing her dearly every day.
The two of them always seemed to comfort one another, even after the seven deaths and seventy years apart. Conversations stretched for hours between them and were one of the things that Michael missed the most during their separation.
This time a force much stronger than the Scythedom held them apart. When Loriana told him of what transpired on Endura, he felt a wave of uncharacteristic anger. Towards whom specifically, he didn't know. That anger led to plain misery which he wallowed in for months.
When Citra came, Michael felt like himself for the first time in what seemed like eternity, but her arrival stirred up some hopes that he would be better off without. After all, if she could come back, why didn't Marie?
This of course was irrational, Citra’s explanation made that clear enough. Marie had sacrificed herself to save her and Rowan, and she was irrevocably gone. Michael accepted this truth, and although the pain never truly went away, would learn to live with it.
Part of this process was a weekly visit to a local park where he would spend hours in with Marie during the seven years. It was less than an hour from Faraday's house and could easily be fit into his flexible schedule. It was part of the Thunderhead’s efforts to integrate nature into the otherwise urban city.
Faraday felt his robe flutter in the breeze as he walked. It was late fall and the first signs of frost were beginning to form. The park was a beautiful one, filled with various flora. Many would come here for picnics during the summer, but the cold weather meant it was nearly empty, a fact which Michael appreciated. Silence would be best for what he came to do.
The scythe was searching for one tree in particular, an old willow that had been there since the mortal age, a favourite of Marie's. They'd spend countless afternoons under the willow’s shadow, reading, talking, or simply enjoying each other's presence.
Those carefree days seem ages away now, but as he approached the tree, it seemed as though it were yesterday. Michael sat down beneath the sillow and sighed as he closed his eyes, basking in the old memories. He didn't know how long it had been when he suddenly heard a small chuckle in front of him.
“You still come here I see.”
There's a sharp gasp followed by silence.
Is that?
This can't be possible.
"Marie?"
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