I stared at the Guardian, my mind reeling. Why would I need a guide? I asked. I am the God of Death, after all.
The Guardian chuckled. Ah, but that is where you are wrong, he said. You are not yet the God of Death. You are still learning, still growing into your role.
I frowned, unsure of what he meant. But the God of Death chose me, I said. He gave me his power.
The Guardian nodded. Yes, he did, he said. But that does not mean you are ready. The God of Death's power is great, but it is not enough. You must also have the wisdom and the heart to wield it.
I thought about his words, and realized he was right. I had been so caught up in the idea of being the God of Death that I had not stopped to think about what it truly meant.
What do I need to do? I asked the Guardian.
He smiled. You must learn, he said. Learn about the souls you judge, about the world they lived in, and about yourself. And you must learn to listen to your heart.
Suddenly, the Guardian's form began to shift and change. I gasped as he transformed into a woman with long, flowing hair and piercing green eyes.
You are not what I expected, I said, surprised.
The woman smiled. And you are not what I expected either, she said. But I believe in you, God of Death. I believe you can do great things.