A touch of the sun

A sunbeam reflects on the trees and stone in the bright of the morning. I walk the path
that is leading me through the hollow of the mountain, covered in green. A low voice
echoes softly around me. I run, for Death is not done with me yet. I hurry, going through a narrow pathaway created by boulders leaning on each other. I promise myself in silent
prayers that it is one more step. One more climb up, and I can rest. The fresh wind
embraces me. I fight against the cold. I see the sun ascending higher. Waving my hand in the air, I shout a welcome. 

A shadow of a figure creeps behind me. It murmurs for a moment, and my mouth goes
dry. “Not yet,” I promise. My heart pounds in my chest. I quickly stretch my hand out
higher in the air, and it touches the sunlight. I let out a shaking breath of relief as my
hand warms. I smile as bright as the sun. I close my eyes and stay there for minutes,
maybe hours, until my limbs grow tired from standing and stretching in the warmth.

The distance between me and the shadowed figure grows longer, wider. I lay in an open
field for a moment before I go further on my way back, down the mountain, taking a walk with the sun. I talk to the sun until it’s time for the moon to rise.

My feet ache and my exhausted limbs bring me lower to the ground as I desperately run
back towards the start, hoping to outrun the dark. I’m not yet halfway when my body
loses all its strength to hold me up, and I fall down. I hear whispers behind me, jarring,
low, and ever tedious. I can’t make out what they’re saying, but it’s familiar, and I know
it’s nearing. Death is catching up with me, and I sit still.

“Does it get tiring, running from the light?” I ask, eager to satisfy my curiosity.
“No,” she states simply. “I am not afraid of it. Not as you of the night,” she says.

There is a clinking of metal and a cracking of sparks lightning. The grass beneath my feet is lit. I turn to see Death holding a lantern. I close the gap, quick to my feet, and I take it out of her hands. The musty air coming from her fills my nose for a moment, so I step back. A moth starts dancing circles around the light.

“You assume you either have one or the other. It’s false,” she states.

I follow Death’s steps. She leads me to a different path than we usually walk. I make sure she doesnt lead me to a dead end.

“Are you lonely?” I ask.

“I am not. I am alone, yet not without company,” she answers.

I dance around, careful not to step on my own toes when I twirl. “Are we meeting your
friends?” I look up. I notice her small smirk, confirming my speculation.

A little door of my lantern squeaks open, and the bracing wind nearly blows out the light
inside the lantern. I quickly close it in time and clutch it to my chest. Death disapproves
of something I can’t quite understand. Bones reach out to steal my light. I blink and she
is nearly out of sight within a second, along with the moth. I run to catch up and steal it
back.

Further down the road I hear the clomping of hooves on the ground, stomping towards
me. A suit of armour clanks before me, taller than I am. My heart takes a leap and I
nearly fall down. The suit of armour drops a long silver sword at the tip of my feet. Four
other suits of armour parade past me and drop their swords. The blade nicks at my skin
and build me a prison. They proceed to gallop past me and Death after a small silent
greeting from her. I shout and curse when they fade out of sight, clutching my arm. I pick up every sword out of the ground to free myself. I haste to carry them, and catch up to death, who is suddenly nowhere to be found.

The steel clashes in my arms, and the tip of a blade draws a long line behind me. The
lantern is tied around my waist with the company of the moth. In the effort of lifting my
swords, I don’t see where I’m going, and I walk into right into a web. I fall, quickly trying
to wriggle myself out of it, but I’m caught. I look up to see that – not a spider, but rather a small, round, woman stands at my side, displeased with my meddling in her work of
golden thread. Frowning upon her work – which is now ruined – she criticizes my manner of walking as she pick up the threads. I apologize sincerely and peel the treads off of my clothing. The strand glows, and the eyes of the woman twinkle. She quickly refuses to meet my eyes, and tells me shortly to keep it, in a crude voice. I trudge away,
apologetically.

I look upwards through the trees, enraptured. So captured by the rustling of the leaves
that I miss my heart being stolen. I quickly jog in search of it, but I am lost. Tears stream
down my face in a panic. A curious boy hangs from a branch, questioning why I cry. He
climbs closer with a tilted head.

“It’s my heart I miss. My heart I weep for,” I speak woefully. He offers a barter. We
negotiate and discuss what treasured items I can part with. He stops me and shows
interest in something different. My friend – the moth – dances, fluttering around the light. I trade the moth for my heart. I cradle and whisper a hello to my heart.

Before I go the boy warns me with a hushed voice. At the end of the road is a king who is able to return my heart in my chest, but he tells me to be careful for there are rumours
about the king’s greed. He laughs proudly that the warnings are nothing like his, but to
still be heedful.

When I saunter back to the path and my heart is held close in my arms, I start to miss my moth a little, and feel bad for trading a friend.

A castle comes in sight. Its tall fortress and painted tiles make for quite the vision. A
principled king sits on the throne at the end of the room. Rows of decent people stand
on each side, awaiting my arrival. At the front stands a row of people in dark cloaks. They stand courteously, civilly, and honorably. I bow low in greeting to the king, whose crown has cracked.

They ask me to present my items. I furrow my brows in thought for a moment. Dearh’s
stench is distant, but present. I don’t know wether to be worrisome or glad to meet my
old companion. She mumbles around me, but I don’t know where she is. I display the
lantern, 5 swords, take the gold strand out of my pocket, and my heart I retrieved.

The king walks up to me. The people bow when he passes by. He takes the light out of
the lantern in his palm and it glows brighter before me. A small smile curls in the corner
of his mouth. He declares in joy that I am where I belong. That I will lead them towards
the sun. Cheers are exclaimed through the room.

The light in the king’s palms flies up to the center of the room, now permanently lit. The
gold thread goes back in my pocket so I can shape destiny. The front row of hooded
strangers walk up to me. I welcome them and hand each of them a sword.

The king promises to return my heart in my chest and keep it safe until after I lead them
to the sun. Remembering the warning, I swiftly take it back, away from his grasp. I thank
him, but it isn’t needed. Hoping there will be another solution.

We parade through the dark lands and travel towards the sun. I hold my head high in
triumph past Death, the boy, the scornful woman, and the bowing suits of armour. we
climb up, up the mountain. In the hills, under the boulders. We stretch out our hands to
welcome the sun. In the bright sunlight I hold my heart close to my chest. It have to
squint when it shines bright, and when I open my eyes I laugh in relief when my heart is
back in my chest.

We sing, even when the sun goes down, and we celebrate. I step away when I notice a
shadowerd figure.
“Will I now go on without you?” I ask in the night, suddenly worried.
“Yes,” Death answers shortly. “Don’t dread. You have better company than I can offer,”
she says.
“I will miss you,” I say solemnly.
“You won’t,” Death says, almost fondly. She disappears before the first break of morning.