In the years after the birth of this world, people lived in harmony with the world. Death, crime, illness and sadness did not exist yet, and people were happy. And then one day, an evil force penetrated the life-force of humanity and robbed them of their innocence. Slowly, illness and disease took their toll and spread throughout this once peaceful land. Over the years, as the population began to die off in troves and the number of births per year dwindled, the people of this land finally started looking at ways to stay healthy and prolong their lives. They were used to living for hundreds of years, and now, suddenly, their lifespan dropped to only a few decades.

After roughly a hundred years after evil infiltrated this world, there were only a small sect of the Ancients still alive. They had moved away from the rest, and now lived in a small village far away from the rest of mankind in the Valley of The Old. A few years later, after the Ancients had left the rest of mankind to fend for themselves, mankind finally started to get a grasp on maintaining their health and their lives for the betterment of their civilization. However, due to these advancements in society, the lives of everyone began to change drastically. There was now crime. People stole and murdered each other. Sometimes for protection, but more often then not, it was for self-betterment and self preservation. Most people had lost touch with the emotions and feelings of love and friendship. They no longer liked to be around each other. The only thing that kept everyone from killing each other outright was the concept that they needed the skills and talents of others to survive. The weak and sick were killed in the night if they did not die or get better soon enough.

However, there were some that knew life did not need to be this way. The life-line of mankind had been hit with evil, and forever changed for the worse. These people constantly were looking for ways to fix the life-line, and to try and restore civilization to the reliable structure of old. Soon, small groups of these people began to make pilgrimages to the Ancients in the Valley of the Old to look for counsel and for advice. This is where mankind first found out about a creature known as Death.

--

To step back a little bit, when evil broke through the barrier of the innocence in the life force and life-line of mankind, it brought illness, disease, emotions of hatred, greed, lust and jealousy, crime, and fear. As a result, the door for Death was opened, and he came into the world hungry and hopeful. After an eternity of sleep, Death was finally awake and was soon busy harvesting the souls of men from their mortal flesh.

Now Death was a young reaper, and frequently got bored during his soul gathering. Every now and then, he'd get bored and start playing with his jars of souls. Sometimes he would shake them up and watch them scream and howl in the pain. Other times he would let them out and play random games like hide and seek and tag, or something more rough like what eventually became the sport we all know as American football or rugby. And still, other times, he would make paint and use the souls as pigment and finger paint. Oh how he loved to finger print. Of all the things he would pass time doing, finger painting was the most fun. What was even more bizarre is that usually, the souls harvested from the mortal men, enjoyed being played with in this sort. Well, most of the souls enjoyed most of the games as well. In fact, the only real thing that they didn't like was having Death shake them, or do other things that hurt them. They could manage being in pain in the mortal realm, but here in the afterlife, there was nothing to take it away, at least, not while stuck in a small glass vile.

And so, after what most scholars estimate as being a span of somewhere around one hundred and fifty to two hundred years, but was really only about one hundred and twenty years, after the evil forces came to this world, Death had quite a large collection of souls, and started to think about what to do with all of them. For the first few years, he was liberal with his harvesting. He wanted to learn about the world, and about the people that lived there. He asked his harvested souls questions about the living, and slowly learned more about the human race then they knew about themselves. As the years past, he became more judgmental and began acting as judge, jury and executioner.

Unfortunately, he grew wary of all of this work and sometimes he would go away for months at a time, and just play with the dead. This went on for nearly a century, and this is when he decided something else must be done with the souls of the dead mortals. After much thinking, he summoned the power of the Gods and assumed the body of a human man for a length of one month. He assumed this form a half a day's journey away from the village of the Ancients in the Valley of the Old and began his quest towards enlightenment.

He traveled slowly and arrived in the village shortly after dusk. He was welcomed with fear and joy. Somehow, the Ancients knew exactly who this man was without seeing his face, or hearing his voice. His black hooded cloak and long scythe identified this traveler as the one known as the taker of souls, as Death. The leader of the Ancients, known as Charon spoke first.

“Welcome, friend. I sense you are not of this world.”

Death raised his head, pulled his hood down and spoke in a low, intimidating voice, “You are correct, I am from another realm. I am known by your kind as Death. You and I must speak.”

Charon knew as Death spoke those words, that what was going to happen in the next few hours would change his life, and the lives of the other Ancients forever. Furthermore, he knew that he would be leaving this world with Death.

“Of course. We will feast first, and we may have a private meeting afterwards if that is what you request.”

Death nodded. He and Charon walked, side by side, to the village hall, where everyone was gathering for the monthly village feast.

“You have arrived on a most fortunate day. Tonight is our monthly village feast. Normally, we all eat in our own huts, but once a month, we hunt as a village, and feast as a village. It should be a good meal, the hunt was very successful.”

“Excellent. This is outstanding. Unfortunately, I may have bad news for you after the feast, and so I encourage you to take your time an enjoy this meal. It may be your last as a mortal man.”

Charon nodded. “I understand. You do know that I am no mere mortal, however, though right?”

“Of course, but for now, that is not important.”

The two took a seat at the end of the table at the end of the hall in this large building. After everyone had taken their seat, Charon stood up to address the other Ancients. “Thank you all for coming. The hunt this month was most enjoyable, and plentiful. We shall feast like the Gods tonight. Enjoy.”

Charon sat down, and food was served. Charon took his time eating, and thoroughly enjoyed the feast. Death ate very little.

--

Roughly three hours had after Death had entered the village, the feast was over, and Charon and Death were discussing the fate of the dead in Charon's hut.

Death started the conversation. “Charon. We both know you were not born of this world. We both know you have been plagued by the same thread of change that the rest of the world has suffered from, but you have been able to live through it in your mortal form. Your Ancient friends will stay here for some time still, but you will all eventually die. And here is where my problem lies. I have been here for something like one hundred and twenty Earth-years and have reaped the souls of hundreds of thousands of people. I have taken the sick and weak. I have taken the strong willed and healthy. I have harvested the souls of the good and evil alike. However, I have recently come to realize that despite leaving the mortal realm, the dead still live. And I must do something with them.

“My role here in this world is to control life and death. Although I am unable to create life, I can remove it in an instant. I feel the dead need a final resting place. Unfortunately, I do not know what to do.”

Charon sat silently for several minutes, deep in thought. “You have the power to remove the living soul from mortal bodies, and now you are asking me what to do with those you take? I expected the Taker of Souls to know how to handle this kind of stuff.”

They talked for several minutes, and eventually came up with a solution. Charon would leave the mortal realm with Death and help him create a new world for the dead.

Over the course of the month, Charon and Death met with the other Ancients. They elected a new leader, and Charon said his goodbyes to his friends. At the end, Death and Charon left the village and walked to the end of the valley. That night, Death transcended away from the human form, and returned to his spirit form. Moments after the body that once held the spirit of Death collapsed to the ground, lifeless, Charon screamed in pain, and then died. He re-awoke standing beside his body. He was stunned, afraid, and confused. “Come now, Charon, we have much work to do.”

The two traveled, much quicker then they would as mortals, to the Archeron River. The followed the river, deep into a thick forest, and eventually to the foot of a mountain. The river looked like it was fueled by a waterfall, and flowed out to a large sea. “This will be the entrance to the Underworld. This is where the dead will come to spend eternity. Charon, you will take them there.”

Death stuck his scythe in the dirt and knelt down. He touched the earth with his right hand. Looking down, he began to chant, channeling the gods, and slowly began to raise his left hand to the heavens. The ground began to shake and a column of light began to form about twenty feet behind Death and the deity above all deities stepped out. He appeared in human form and walked up to the one known as Death and put his right hand on Death's left shoulder. “Rise young one, I have come.”

Death stopped chanting and lowered his lowered his left hand back to the earth. He looked back down at the earth and took in a deep breathe. He felt exhausted. After a moment, he stood back up and turned around. He bowed to his father. “I request more assistance, father. I have brought Charon, the oldest of the Ancients here to help take the dead to their final resting place. Unfortunately, I do not have someone to look over the dead, or the land they will reside in. I cannot do it all myself.”

The All-Father looked down at his son, “Of course. Prepare the entrance to this place. In three days you will reach the entrance, and then you will meet the one known as Hades. He will rule the Underworld and will answer to you. You are the one who harvests the souls of the living. You are the one who will rule over them. Hades will be there to look over the Underworld for you.”

“Thank you, I will do my best.” And with that, the All-Father faded away.

Death and Charon rested for the night. They both woke at dawn and began to work. They started by digging into the mountain side, creating a pathway into the mountain, digging low enough to allow the water to flow in. By the end of the third day, they had reached an opening, and had found the entrance to the Underworld. Hades was no where to be seen. They rested.

The awoke on the forth day and saw Hades standing above them. “You have built an excellent entrance. I am here to serve.” All three of them walked to the entrance to the Underworld and saw a small ferry, capable of carrying approximately a dozen living humans. “This is what will be used to carry the dead here. There will be a toll to enter my land, however, that Charon will take. If they are without toll, the dead will be refused entrance, until they can make up for the lack of toll. You can decide how they must do this, Death.”

Charon took his post, and towed the ferry to his post near the entrance to the mountain. Death and Hades brought the dead in and populated the Underworld.

This all happened in the first thousand years of life of the planet known as Earth.