The Death Father

It felt her shift on its shoulders. “What’s the matter, little one?”

The girl’s small voice cut through the silence of the road. “Can you tell me a story?”

“A story?” it repeated, its voice a dry rasp.

A long, thoughtful pause hung in the air before it finally began, “Once upon a time…”

“No, not like that!” she protested, scrunching her nose in dissatisfaction and leaning over its skull from atop its shoulders. “Your story.”

“Ah… my story.” It shifted as it walked, as if turning the thoughts over in its mind. “I don’t remember most of it.”

“Then just tell me the bits you do remember,” she urged, nestling close.

It walked silently, feeling for the echoes of its past, and slowly began, its voice soft, as if each word drew something precious from the depths of its memory. “I remember the feeling of fear… of anger. I remember a red-hot pain spearing through my chest, blinding, searing… Then came the darkness - deep, endless, and so still it swallowed time itself. I lay in the lonely blackness, waiting for my eternity to end.”

The girl was leaning in, eyes wide with curiosity. “Until…?”

“Hush now,” it murmured, a faint humour edging its tone. “I’m getting there.”

“It happened so suddenly - a spark, a prick of light in the darkness, waking me from a restless slumber. I quickly realized I could move.” It raised a skeletal hand, flexing the bones of its fingers as if recalling the strange, rusty sensation.

“My fingers, my arms, my legs - they ached, like they hadn’t moved in centuries. But I could feel them. I knew then that I was lying on my back, with a tremendous weight of thick, cold earth pressing down on me.” It paused, its cavernous stare distant, as if reliving the moment. “I clawed and scratched against that weight, ferociously, as if the gods themselves had willed it. I clawed until my bones felt raw, until I saw it - the faintest sliver of moonlight.”

It paused again, almost reverently, recalling that first sight. “I tore through the soil, gasping for air I did not need. And there I was, standing in a barren field. The moonlight washed over me, cold and silver, and I saw others around me. Figures, all like me, some still breaking through the dirt, others standing motionless, as if waiting for something.”

The girl’s breath had stilled, rapt. “What happened next?” she whispered. 

“I tried to look around, to understand… but my body, I found, was not my own to control. My limbs moved without my command, pulled forward by a force stronger than any I had known.” Its voice fell lower, edged with a note of darkness. “That’s when I saw him,” it murmured, the barest trace of anger and sorrow in his tone.

“Your father…” the child said confidently. 

It laughed softly, a brittle sound like dry leaves crackling underfoot. “No.. I certainly would not call him that.”

The girl pouted. “But it would make the story more interesting if he was.”

It chuckled again, a humourless rasp. “Perhaps. But it means many things to be a father, and he was none of them. He was… something else.”

Its empty gaze fixed on the setting sun beyond them. “Dark and unnatural. He approached us like one might a herd of livestock, with cold contempt. There was a power about him - a loathing that clung to him like a shadow. With a wave of his hand, he willed us forward in unison. My body obeyed, moving with purpose, with no will of my own.”

The memory seemed to weigh on it. Its words tinged with bitterness the girl could almost feel. “It was a lot to take in. I had clearly died some time ago, but even lost in the eternity after, before you forget yourself, you can do nothing but cling to the hope that reality might be different. To truly be able to confront something like that…”

It looked over its shoulder at the girl, its empty sockets deep and dark with a faint distant yet magical glow of dark purple embers, like a sparking flame glinting at the end of an endless tunnel.. “Anyway, we followed him for days… and over those first few days, I began to come to terms with the situation. I felt no pain, no weariness, no hunger, no thirst. I could walk without stopping, without sleep.”

Its hollow gaze turned back to the road. “He drove us across the land, from village to village, kingdom to kingdom,” its words are slow and deliberate. “We were an army on the march. I remember the empty streets as we passed, people peering out from behind shuttered windows, their eyes wide with fear. I wanted nothing more than to help them, but I was a prisoner in my own mind.”

“He used us to do terrible things. We tore down homes, laid waste to crops. The villagers called us monsters, demons. Some of them fought but most of them, rightfully fled. And they couldn’t see us as we once were. I felt great sorrow for the pain we caused.” It paused and shifted slightly, as if weighed down by a long-buried guilt.

The girl listened intently, her small hands resting on the crown of its skull. “Did you remember anything from before?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

It remained silent for a moment. “In one village, while passing a church I saw a symbol on a banner. It filled me with warmth and comfort. Something precious like the first light of dawn. I knew that it must have meant something to me before. Perhaps it had been a symbol of my faith when I was alive. I tried, every night, every still moment, to remember my time before... But it was futile, like grasping at smoke.”

It shook its head, as if shaking off the memory. “The necromancer knew, somehow. The more I tried to remember, the tighter his hold became. I would feel it like iron bands tightening around my thoughts, squeezing out whatever was left of me. He wanted to erase us, to make us perfect soldiers with no past, no memories, no hope.”

The girl’s brow furrowed, and she looked down at it, sympathy shining in her eyes. “But you didn’t forget everything, did you?”

It let out a brittle sigh. “No, not completely. The memories were faint, like whispers. But there was something stronger. A sense of deep defiance, of wanting to fight against it, even if I didn’t remember why.”

It paused, letting the crunch of its footsteps on the dirt road fill some time. “Then one day that all changed.”

The girl leaned even closer, gripping tight so as to avoid falling from its shoulders. “What happened?”

It looked up at her and seemed to almost smile, though no lips or flesh remained to form it. “Well,” it began slowly, as though savouring the memory, “I found whenever I focused on the symbol I encountered at the church, something would stir within me. The more I concentrated, the more I could remember pieces of myself, fragments of my own life. And gradually, I could move without the necromancer’s command. At first, just a twitch of a finger, a small turn of my head.”

It paused, his voice growing softer. “Then one day, when I focused on that symbol, I heard a voice. It was ancient, echoing from a place I could hardly understand. The language was strange, almost celestial, but it offered me something. It offered me freedom and redemption - if I chose to help others. So I vowed right then that I would do whatever I could to spare others from the fate I had endured.” 

“What happened to the necromancer?” the girl said, straightening herself up.

“His life was not mine to claim, at least not then. I could feel his shadow even as I slipped from his grasp, but I was called to a different path. I chose to walk away, with only the light from the voice to guide me, showing me where I was needed. And so I went where it led, across towns and villages, finding those who were lost, who needed someone to light their way.” It paused, glancing at her with a look of quiet pride. “Others, like you.” It stopped and reached up, helping the girl down from its shoulders. Its hands were gentle, pearl white peeking from under the sleeves of its long black robes.

“You’ve helped others like me?” the girl said surprised, looking curiously up at it.

“Lots of them. I help them find their place. And I remember each and every one.” It knelt down to be at her level.

“I enjoyed that story, but I wish it was longer.” the girl said looking sadly into its hollow sockets. 

“We all wish for the same, little one. But all stories must have an ending. Some stories end before they are meant to, and it's my job to give those stories the most special endings of all.” It nodded behind the girl and she turned to see that the dirt road had given way to a beautiful, endless landscape of green and golden rolling fields, glittering in an eternal sunset.

The girl looked around in wonder. “Where are we?”

“This is where I take everyone who deserves to continue their story.” 

The girl’s eyes widened as she took in the endless fields, their beauty beyond anything she had ever known. A gentle breeze whispered through the grass, and it was warm, carrying a faint comforting scent - like wildflowers in bloom and freshly turned soil. She turned back to it, her wonder mixing with confusion in her gaze. 

“Is… is this heaven?” she whispered, reaching for his hand. 

It gave a soft, raspy chuckle, but there was a kindness in his voice. “It’s different for everyone. For some, it may be a grand city of marble and gold. For others, a quiet forest or a starlit sea. But for you…” It gestured to the fields stretching into the sunset. “For you, it's this place. A world where the light never fades.”

She smiled, though there was a touch of sadness in her eyes. “It’s so beautiful. But, does that mean I don’t get to stay with you?”

It paused, its sockets meeting her gaze directly, its voice soft and tender. ”No, little one. My path is different. I walk between worlds, helping the lost find their way. I don’t belong in any one place, but I am honoured to have been part of your story, even for a short time.”

The girl’s lips trembled as she gazed at it, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Will I see you again?”

It nodded, a bony finger gently brushing a tear from her cheek. “In a way, yes. I am always near, watching over each and every soul I’ve guided, holding their memories close. And if you ever need me, just think of me. I’ll be there, a part of you, as you are now a part of me.”

The girl nodded, her small face filled with courage as she glanced back at the fields and then at it. “Then I won’t be scared. Thank you for being with me.”

It inclined its head solemnly in a reverent nod. “Thank you, little one. For letting me be part of your story.”

The girl took a breath, and when she looked at the fields again, her face softened with calm acceptance. She let go of its hand and walked toward the golden landscape, her small form bathed in the eternal light. As she stepped forward, her outline grew brighter, merging with the glow, until she became one with the sunset. 

For a while, it stood alone, watching the field with a stillness only it could manage. For a long moment, it remained, committing every detail to memory - the softness of her hand, the courage in her voice, the sparkle in her eyes.

Finally, it turned, the quiet creak of its bones the only sound as it walked, beginning the long solitary journey back along the path. It would remember her, as it remembered each soul it had guided -  a new star added to the boundless constellation within its memory. And though it was Death, shadowed and eternal, it felt the faintest warmth deep within its chest - an echo of something long lost. 

For her story, though brief, had been precious. And it, the eternal watcher, the father of death, would guard it forever.