Once upon a time, in those early days after the fall of Augistass, when mischievous creatures still felt free to roam the lands of Demmah, there was a traveling band of Zoraht frequenting the plains of the Eecfjori Empire. In those days, the power of Eecfjori was small and wholly unfeared; the Zoraht were still a free people and camped where they pleased without paying taxes.
Now, the Zoraht have always been a people known for walking, not for being nomads. The latter simply came with the former. But there was one little girl, Floraam, who loved to skip about. She did not follow the ways of her ancestors, her mother, or her father. She thought that perhaps there was something to learn from another mode of moving.
Now, in those days people lived longer than we do, and the spirit of Death was often bored. He took notice of little Floraam, delighted to find something different in his wanderings. Here is one who may accept my invitation to play, he thought. So, as he was wont to do, Death came to the girl in the night after a long day of skipping down the well-worn trails. “Little girl, wake up,” Death said, air hissing low through his hollow skull.
Floraam awoke to the enervating face of Death, the night dew slowly coalescing and in flowy streams and seeping into his dry bony face. She trembled imperceptibly but ceaselessly all over her body, like enduring a mild fever under a nice blanket. “I didn’t hear you coming, it’s not my time then. What do you want?” she asked as steadily as she could.
If he had lips, Death would have frowned, so he clattered his teeth instead. “I thought we might make decent friends, would you like to play a game with me?” he queried, reaching out a gloved hand to raise her up with.
“What game would that be?” she asked. She did not reach out her hand, but she was genuinely interested and no longer trembling.
Death, ever vigilant, noticed the change and extended his hand further. “I call it skipscotch, we go to a river I know and race, skipping down the stones. If win, I will spare one life you name at the time of your choosing. If you lose, I will make you one of my new assistants. There are ever more and more people in this world, and I am only one bag of bones,” he said.
The little girl was thrilled. “Deal!” she exclaimed, clasping Death’s hand and jumping up from bed.
Death shook her and, one rise, one fall, and then they teleported to twilight forest with a winding river spotted with smooth jutting stones. Floraam looked around, there were bits of light and floating seed-puffs all about. The air was thick but breathable, filled with potential. She looked questioningly at Death’s eye sockets who aptly replied, “Here is the passage between creation and destruction hidden deep under Demmah. Before a tree is planted it waits here, and when you burn its logs, it returns. This too is the river by which I ferry the dead to their place, that is, except for those Èyümians; they go by another way and another hand.”
“Are you a servant of Sol and Lun? Or of Mother Demmah then?” Floraam asked, still very confused.
“A servant of their purposes perhaps. But not their wills,” he replied cryptically.
“I don’t understand.”
“Few are privy too, and it is not my business to decide who. But we came here to play a game.”
“Yes! Let’s go!” Floraam yelled, ready to be distracted from confusing things and have some fun.
Before she could start, Death put a cold hand on her shoulder. “There is one more rule,” he said gravely and pointing, continued, “The finish line is that black stone in the distance. You do not cross it, and you especially do not step upon the red stone beyond it.
Floraam looked at him questioningly. “And if I do?”
“Then you will keep your life, but you will still lose and be confined in servitude until another comes and takes your place.”
“Those are the only rules?” Floraam asked. Death nodded. “Got it!” she yelled and ran off down the river. Death rattled himself and started soon after. Floraam was certainly the world’s best skipper, but death knew this river better than anyone and soon began to catch up. Still yet, Floraam was a brave little girl and was willing to take a splash in the water rather than hesitate to decide which rock to skip to next, and so she was able to keep just ahead and reached the black stone first.
She jumped up and down in victory, squealing and turning to look at boney old death, who knowing he had lost, made the rest of his way at a leisurely pace. She felt a soothing chill and looked around. She spotted the red rock, it looked a lot closer than she had thought, one more little skip would do it. Why the secret, she thought. It seemed to call to her, how could she not go where it seemed, so few had tread? She took the final leap and landed on the red stone. As soon as she had, she heard death walk up behind her and she felt uncomfortably warm. “A deal, is a deal, little girl,” Death said, putting his boney hand on her shoulder once again.
She was taken to a small dome room in which was an Eecfjorian boy looking through a telescope. He turned toward them and his countenance dropped very low. “You tricked another one did you?” he asked death.
“Tricked is presumptuous, she knew the rules just like you did,” Death said assuredly.
The little boy shook his head. “But you always want it to end up like this.”
“Perhaps. But now you must go.”
“I’m so sorry,” the boy said to Floraam, “there is nothing I can do to keep myself here and let you go free,” he said. But as he walked past Floraam he whispered, “but Death does not know that Èyüm is here too. Someday he will destroy this place.”
The boy disappeared through the door. Death turned to Floraam. “Look through the telescope and tell me what you see.”
She did so and the telescope saw through dirt and stone to the surface of the world. “I see, I see people near death, and others wandering and lost.”
“All such as these you will report to me until another comes and takes your place.”
Floraam put to her work, for there was not else to do, the room was not spacious enough for skipping. But she found happiness in two things. A silent voice that spoke kindly to her at all times and became her best friend. And watching the boy she freed wander the wilds of Eecfjori without aging, and he became known as the undying wild-boy for whom farmers would leave out a plate for dinner in hopes of blessing if they were visited by him in the evening.
Thanks for reading! I know its been awhile, I’ve been worn out from work and busy getting publications tasks done for my book, “An Otherwise Silent Sea” set in the world of Demmah! I’m hoping for a may release. Keep an eye out for updates here and as I soon get more social media going. Love you guys.