They wandered aimlessly, not stopping for a moment. They left town and ventured so deep into the woods that day and night became indistinguishable. For a long time, they walked the well-known paths they had galloped down countless times before.

  When Leon felt better, he mounted Athos and urged him into a frantic gallop, pressing his heels more firmly into the stallion's sides. Athos ran as if death were chasing him.

  "Aaah!"

  Birds flew out of treetops, screeching in fright. Leon's cry echoed through the forest like a lion's roar. He urged Athos faster; he didn't dare stop. Stopping would mean acceptance; it would mean the end—and he couldn't accept that he had lost him too.

  Thoughts echoed like thunders in his head, each more powerful than the last, creating a storm he could not contain. He thought his head would split open. His chest burned, and anger seethed within him, spreading insidiously.

  "Aaah!"

  The forest echoed his every scream as if mocking him. He had never felt so powerless. His entire life resembled this insane, purposeless gallop without direction, without meaning.

  Leon stopped Athos, dismounted, and hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He sobbed uncontrollably, roaring like a lion as he kicked up dirt, grass, broken branches and tree trunks. Suddenly, a tingling sensation coursed through him as a strange, sparkling force filled his body, flaring up and spreading rapidly.

  He felt the heat engulf him, restoring his strength, his pulse accelerating as a deafening noise clouded his mind. Shivers coursed through him, and a strange pressure built inside, overwhelming even the sorrow. The power surging through him was so immense that he felt invincible—just moments ago, he had been utterly helpless and desperate.

  But, alongside the power, he felt an indescribable fear.

  "No," he said, terrified, "Not again... Not again, please, no..."

  Athos became agitated. With widened eyes, he was stamping in place, watching Leon.

  Leon felt pain deep within him. The force that possessed him threatened to penetrate his skin and tear him to pieces. He gripped his temples tightly, trying in vain to reduce the headache. Everything was losing its outlines before his eyes, just as he was losing ground beneath his feet.

  The strength turned into pain, the pain into unbearable agony, and his whole body convulsed until he could neither see nor hear over the deafening ringing in his head. He fell to his knees.

  "Nooo!" He screamed in a cry of helplessness.

  Out of nowhere, glowing flames rose around Leon, trapping him and Athos, spreading the heat that burned their skin. The pressure in his body diminished abruptly. At last, he felt as empty as the air he breathed. And again—that deafening silence within him.

  Numb from fatigue, he collapsed, sweat dripping from his forehead. He no longer felt pain or pressure in his chest. He could breathe freely. However, fear created a storm within him. He rose and approached Athos, seeking an exit, losing his balance, but there was no way out. The flames wholly trapped them.

  "Breathe," he said to himself, closing his eyes. "Breathe, just breathe..."

  He inhaled deeply, slowly releasing the air, repeating it several times. The heat on his skin was getting weaker, as was the flickering light behind his closed eyes. He continued to breathe.

  Athos snorted fiercely and struck the ground twice with his hoof. Leon winced. The flames were almost gone, and Athos looked him straight in the eye, then snorted again and made an unusual nodding motion that resembled an invitation.

  The ceremony. "We're going to be late for the ceremony," he suddenly realized.

  Athos reared up and neighed.

  "Run as fast as your hooves can carry you!"

  Leaping over the low fire, they rushed back to Terrun.

  The ceremony had already begun when they emerged from the woods. Katya performed a purification ritual, a ritual Leon had witnessed only once or twice. It was performed only for those who had been killed, cleansing their bodies of the forces that had defiled them so their souls could rest in peace. Otherwise, their souls would remain trapped in this world forever.

  Rafa's body rested on a wooden raft, drifting among the white lilies. Katya stood beside him, reciting prayers. Beside her sat a bowl filled with crushed leaves of various herbs—some of which she named in prayer: asphodel, birch, cypress, mullein, basil… She alternated between tossing a handful and sprinkling lake water over the body.

  Rafa lay motionless. It seemed like he was asleep. Leon thought the cold water would wake him any moment, but that didn't happen.

  Katya had previously applied balms to the deadly wounds. He wore only a piece of white cloth wrapped around his pelvis, his arms crossed over his stomach.

  His body was exceptionally robust, seeming much younger than his face, his shoulders broad and muscular, his legs as strong as two tree trunks. Grayish hair—on which a few brown strands still proudly held on—shimmered in the sunlight. Even dead and torn, he lay proudly.

  Katya lit a wad of rue, which she had previously soaked with water so it couldn't burn, and uttered the last words of prayer as smoke billowed. A simple white dress, with long wide sleeves, fell heavily soaked in water.

  "... may his soul rest in peace."

  "May his soul rest in peace," those present replied.

  She looked for Leon.

  "I believe Rafa would like us to bury him in the forest. He spent so much time in it."

  Leon stared at her, unable to speak. He nodded slightly when he realized their eyes had been locked for too long.

  Torrick and Daedalus took Rafa's body to the forest's edge. The procession followed them with Katya leading. Luke was among them, though he kept to himself. Leon and Athos were the last. No one spoke, not even the forest, which was unusually quiet. The leaves, which would normally chatter and gossip about anyone passing by, were silent, as if bidding their final farewell.

  Daedalus and Torrick quickly dug a hole with the help of two more men and placed the body in it. Katya said a brief prayer and threw a wad of smoked rue into the tomb, and then each of the attendees approached and threw a lump of excavated soil into the grave.

  Leon stood a few feet away. Everyone except Katya, Daedalus, Torrick, and Luke, had already left. Katya waited for Leon to approach so Daedalus and Torrick could bury the body, but he didn't move. He couldn't take a step. Athos gently nudged him with his nose at his back. His tunic pulsed to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

  "Katya, I'd like to bury him myself," he said shakily.

  The restlessness was bursting out of her eyes, but she just nodded.

  "I finished my part anyway," she said. "Look me up later; I think I have something for you."

  He waited for everyone to leave. Torrick turned around several times confusedly, and Katya scolded him each time for being rude—quite rudely.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  When there was no one left, Leon stood above Rafa's grave. His body was partly covered in dirt. Just here and there could the light, gray skin be seen. His face remained unblemished.

  Leon squeezed the dirt between his fingers as if to turn it to stone. A hundred images came out before his eyes; Rafa's voice echoed in his mind, as if he were caught in a whirlwind of time strangling him with memories. He heard his thunderous laughter.

  He filled the hole, moistening the already rain-soaked earth with his tears.

  "Why didn't you call me, damn you?! Why didn't you come and get me?"

  The black soil covered the body completely; only the luminous face eerily protruded.

  "... you would still be alive now, or at least I'd be dead, too. I wouldn't have to go through this again. I can't go through this again. I can't lose you too!"

  Athos approached and gently nuzzled his neck with his snout. Then, he began to bury Rafa with the tip of his nose.

  "Oh, boy..." Leon caressed him. "You were just a colt when he brought you to me on my sixteenth birthday. How happy I was! It was one of the few beautiful moments after father's death. You brought a smile to my face. He's done so much for me. He taught me so much. He knew how to be there when no one else was, even when I pushed everyone away—even then, he knew how to be with me."

  Again, he felt the tingling and heat spreading over his body as his heartbeat accelerated.

  "No, no! Breathe!"

  He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths until the attack subsided, then continued to fill the hole until he shaped a grave. Athos helped him the whole time. Leon then gathered pieces of light stone and laid them over the grave.

  Not far from there, where light met the shade of the forest, a bush of white lilies grew. Leon pulled one stem from the ground, planting it on the grave before arranging the remaining rocks.

  Outside, it was already dark, and night began to fall.

  "I remember the story you told me after my father died," he said hoarsely through tears.

  "Once upon a time, in a far northern kingdom, there lived an old man with his only daughter, Uwada. Many said she was the most beautiful girl in the kingdom, more beautiful even than the princess herself. Yet she had no suitors and rarely went out, as she spent her days caring for her old, sick father. While he lay ill, Uwada would bring him fresh flowers from her garden every morning, then spend the whole day by his side, reading him the stories he loved.

  One morning, when she entered with a bouquet of fresh roses, she found her father lying dead. The girl wept inconsolably all day, sending away anyone who tried to enter her house.

  "Go away, go away! I want everyone to leave me alone! I want to die with him," she cried when the door creaked open again late that night.

  A rasping female voice behind her replied, "It's not your time yet."

  A tall figure stood in the doorway, draped in a black cloak. The hood concealed its entire face. It crossed its long, bony fingers over its chest and seemed to float above the ground.

  "Who are you?" Uwada asked.

  "I am Death," the figure in black replied. "I came for your father."

  The girl wasn't afraid—on the contrary. "Take me with you," she said, looking Death in the face.

  "It's not your time yet," Death said calmly.

  "But I want to die. I have no reason to live anymore."

  "You will die, like everyone else, when your time comes," Death repeated.

  "Then I won't let you take him. I won't let go of him; I will not move away from him. I'll fight you if I have to."

  "No one can fight me."

  "I swear, you won't take him from me!"

  Death made a strange sound, something like laughter. "I'll leave him tonight," it warned. "But I'm coming for him in the morning." Then, it vanished.

  The girl stayed by her father's side all night, weeping inconsolably. She kept reading him stories and holding his hand. When morning came, she didn’t even go to pick fresh flowers, fearing that Death might deceive her and take him while she was away.

  The door creaked again at dawn. Death stood at the entrance.

  "I told you, I won't let him go. Leave! You can't take him from me. No one can."

  "He no longer belongs to this world. His soul must move on. This is the world of the living—he will only find sorrow here."

  "And I'll be unhappy without him. I want you to take me! I want to die! I have no mother, brothers or sisters, husband, or children. I have no one. I don't have cattle or poultry. No living soul. I have no treasure. I have nothing but this old house and that small garden. No one will miss me. Please take me! There must be a way... Tell me how to go with you."

  Death observed Uwada quietly.

  "All right, if that's what you want. There is a way you can come with me. More precisely, there are two. One is that you die..."

  "And the other?"

  "I won't tell you now. I will be back in seven days. Think carefully once again, I repeat—it's not your time. Once I take your hand, there's no turning back," it said, disappearing again.

  The girl didn’t hesitate for a moment. She grabbed a knife and thrust it toward her chest. But before the blade could touch her skin, the metal snapped from the handle and clattered loudly at her feet.

  She ran out into the garden, climbed a tall tree, and threw herself from its highest branch. Yet her dress caught on a limb just above the ground, slowing her fall. She landed with a soft thud, left in nothing but her undergarments, while the dress dangled above her.

  But she refused to give up. She gathered a few flowers from the garden—poisonous purple irises—brewed them in boiling water, and drank. The sickness came quickly. She was drenched in cold sweat, vomiting violently. The ground beneath her feet swirled, and she trembled from the cold. Then, she collapsed to the ground.

  "Finally," she said weakly, barely breathing.

  But later that day, she opened her eyes. "No," she thought, "It can't be. I want to die," she sobbed, "My life no longer has a purpose."

  For the next six days, she continued her attempts to end her life, but each one failed. Her father lay already stiff and gray, and the corpse began to stink.

  On the seventh day, Death came to her door again.

  "Please, tell me another way," Uwada wailed. "I tried to take my own life, but I failed. Every attempt has failed."

  "I told you it wasn't your time. No one can die when they want to."

  "But you said I could go with you—that there is a way."

  "There is. If this is your final decision and your will, I will take you with me. I ask you one more time—are you quite sure you want to leave this world? Once you step into the afterlife, there is no turning back."

  "Yes, I'm sure." She replied like a bolt out of the blue.

  "All right."

  Death approached, taking both the girl and her father by the hand, and together, all three disappeared.

  When they arrived in the other world, Uwada was delighted.

  "Thank you! Oh, thank you! You saved me!" She said, then turned to her father: "Oh, dear father, I missed you. Now we can walk the heavenly gardens and tell stories."

  But the old man did not respond.

  "Father?" The girl called. "I say now we can tell stories again. Father, can you hear me?"

  "He can't hear or see you," Death said. "This is the world of dead souls."

  "But I died."

  "No, you have crossed from the world of the living into this world, but you have not died."

  The girl cried desperately again. She screamed, "You fooled me! You vile, filthy creature! Why didn't you tell me he wouldn't be able to see me?"

  "You never asked."

  "And if I had died, would we be together now?"

  "Yes."

  "Show me when I'll die!"

  "Never."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Never," Death repeated.

  "It's not possible; we all die sooner or later."

  "Those who, of their own will, alive, cross into the world of the dead, never die."

  Uwada stared helplessly, unable to find the right words. She didn’t even have a tear left. For the first time in her life, fear gripped her. Her mouth went completely dry.

  "What will happen to me then?" She asked with a trembling voice.

  "The same as with all of us who share this fate."

  Death spread her arms, and behind it appeared dozens of figures in black cloaks, with deep black hoods that concealed their faces.

  Terrified, Uwada trembled; fear made her heart throb. Color drained from her face, and her lips turned white. Wide-eyed, she stared in wonder.

  "No, please, no! I made a mistake. Please take me back; I was wrong. This is not what I wanted..."

  "Once we cross the bridge, there is no turning back. You will return, but with a completely different role. You will return as one of us."

  The girl screamed as her pretty face distorted and greyed, and her beautiful green eyes darkened until even the whites turned black. Her golden hair blackened, and the delicate pink dress transformed into a black cape that engulfed her.

  Everyone stood still. Wraiths in black watched her, and the souls of the dead didn't even flinch at her scream. No one could help her anymore.

  The scream faded until it completely silenced.

  "Still, I need to show you something before you get back..."

  "I remember very well that you stopped here. You always knew how to heighten the pressure. To ignite the fire and then let me roast. I asked you what it showed her, but you just smiled mysteriously."

  "Please, Rafa, tell me, what did Death show her?"

  "On the eighth day, Uwada would meet a lost prince who set out to propose to a princess but veered off course and fell in love with her. He would take her to his faraway kingdom, to a lavish court with the most beautiful garden she had ever seen, and she would bear him four beautiful children."

  "Goodbye, my friend. I'll miss you. Greet Bruno for me if you meet him up there. I'll never forget everything you've done for me. Some spent a lifetime growing up without a father, and I had two. I hope to find a way to make you proud and repay you for everything you have done for me." He knelt on the ground and kissed the bare stone beneath him. "I swear on your grave that I will avenge your death. I will gut the bestia that did this, even if it's the last thing I do."

  Hot tears poured down his face, dampening his olive-green tunic.