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Pilot's Death the Tilly

-Aonair-Alone-

Sometimes, planes make a journey without ever returning. It's a risk a pilot takes every time they fly.

It's a thrill, to remember you are thousands of feet up in the air, dancing with the clouds and the frigid breeze. Knowing that the glass is what separates you from out there, the thin air of thousands of feet and the promise of frostbite if the pane cracks. A literal flirt with death every single time you are so high up.

Unfortunately, Death gets tired of your teasings and catcalls at one point or another, and makes the first move. His icy lips will kiss a pilot at least once.

I had avoided Death far too long. Aside from the occasional times I invited him to tea where we would debate at length of things to come, and his promise of coming back another day, I avoided him. He was tired of my games.

It was a cloudy day; I was traveling upwind with the clouds promising snow, the sun hiding his shining face under layers of grey. I buried my muzzle under the silk cloth of my scarf, each breath making a cloud of their own. The windows were fogging up. I reached out and wiped them off with the end of my scarf, one hand on the stick.

I glanced up, grey.
I glanced to the side; my wing seemed fine, although it shuddered with the attempt to fight the wind.
I glanced to the other side, and swore out loud. Looks like Death caught a ride on my wing. He sat there, calm as the sea before a storm, and waved. I averted my gaze, looking ahead.

Death slipped his way through the glass, into the cockpit and sat above my chair, promising things to go very bad, very quickly. I just had to keep flying, looking straight ahead, as the first flakes of snow landed on my plane. Death told me it was no use, perhaps I should just resign myself now, and take a nose dive. I told him to go and kindly screw himself. He apparently didn't take too kindly to that; his silence changed from friendly to frigid.

Minutes passed like hours, and I finally addressed the black figure sitting just above my head.
"What's going to happen to me?" I asked it hesitantly. He looked down at me with beady black eyes, and just smiled.

The snow grew steadily worse. It pelted the glass pane of the cockpit window, making me no less than a blind man. I knew I was in Ytiva; probably getting near the Arctic Frost and its numerous mountains. The fact that I couldn't see my approach to the destination concerned me greatly. I looked at my compass on the plane's dashboard. I was going the right direction, at least. I knew that this is how I would die. Unless, of course...
"Death, let's make a deal."

If it’s one thing about Death, it’s that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. Whether it’s a game of dice, a game of chess, or whatever suits his fancy. The promise of a bet piqued his curiosity, as you could see by his perked ears. He finally spoke for the first time upon entering the cockpit.

”WHAT IS THE DEAL?”
”If I find a way out of certain death, without your interference, then I get the choice.”
”THE CHOICE?”
”Of when I die. I will decide when, and die when I’m good and ready to.”
Death scowled. The bet seemed hardly fair to him, it seemed very one-sided from how I worded it.
”WHAT IS IN THIS DEAL FOR ME?” He inquired.
I hesitated a moment before replying “First, you will not tell me what I’m up against. If I don’t know, and don’t know when, I could hardly make the call of what to do about it when, when I am just guessing.”

Death seemed to like this stake. He grinned a toothy grin and agreed. I took a deep breath; it would be a long next few hours.

…

I didn’t have to wait long for the first challenge to come up. In the blizzard that had descended, my engine froze and blew out. It was difficult navigating the freezing sky when I couldn’t see even inches past the window, let alone when your engine is burning. Still, with great difficulty I kept it steady; making a descend as steadily as possible; It would have been a bumpy landing on FLAT ground, which I quickly learned was NOT the kind of terrain I was working with. I'd graze a cliff, scraping my wing against the mountain, just to keep steadily falling. Slowly, it tipped forward and began to spin out of control; a terrifying nose dive. I tugged the stick as hard as I could back, but it couldn't stop the dive; it managed to stop the spin; though.

I had no other choice, if I was to survive. I flipped the latch to the cockpit window; icy air greeting my face with a slap. From what I could see; ground was meeting us, fast. I watched carefully as we were surrounded by white. I wanted to time this right; I didn't want my bones shattering.

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