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Heavens of eternal peace and the Hell of eternal torture. What were your
interests in your past life?"
"They were death and you," the spirit of Dawen replied. "My parents and my
two siblings were taken by death
their souls gathered by your hand. I lived until the day you would come for my
soul as well."
"Then you have nothing here to die for," she said in a weary voice. "I shall
have to discuss this with my husband."
The Mistress of Darkness rose, hidden within her robe. She threw her arms
wide. Her ebony robes fluttered, but the spirit of Dawen detected no wind. A
glistening light of pure white stars gathered around the Mistress in a small
whirlpool of light.
"Who is your husband?" he asked.
"The Lord of the Living." The Mistress' voice drifted from the whirlwind of
light.
The light surrounding the Mistress of Darkness lifted her higher into the
grayness of her domain's sky. The spirit of Dawen Stroph watched the swirl of
light diminish until he thought it was a star on the gray sky.
The spirit of Dawen Stroph waited for what seemed a long time for the
Mistress of Darkness to return. Suddenly, she appeared as if she had never
left her domain. The spirit hastily drifted over to the Mistress' throne.
"Well, Mistress of Darkness, what did you discuss with your husband, the
Lord of the Living?" he asked.
"That is none of your concern," the Mistress coolly replied. "I have met many
of your kind, but none who dwelt solely on death and me. You must
understand that I have not encountered such a problem for many hundreds of
years. My husband, fortunately, did remember how we dealt with the
problem."
She stopped her flow of words. From the shadows of her hood, the Mistress
studied the spiritual form of Dawen Stroph. The Lord of the Living had given
his wife the means to enable a spirit to return to his body in the living world.
"Do you even grasp the relationship between life and death?" the Mistress
asked.
"No, I don't know," answered the spirit. "All I know is my desire for death."
The Mistress of Darkness sagged on her throne. Her hooded face fell forward
to rest on her black-shrouded chest. With a pearl-white hand, the Mistress
beckoned the spirit closer. Dawen Stroph's spirit floated over at the Mistress
bidding.
"With all life, death lurks within each and every thing," the Mistress
murmured. "Death needs nothing but a moment in time to pass. If there is
life, death is there always.
"If there is death, there has to be life for death to end life. Life and death go
hand in hand neither would exist without the other."
"I don't understand life," said the spirit sorrowfully.
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"I know," whispered the Mistress, "and that is why I must send you back to
the world of the living."
Dawen's spirit threw himself at the Mistress' unseen feet. He howled in
forgotten rage for her mercy. She remained unaffected by his screams and
impassioned pleas. The Mistress of Darkness moved away from the shouting
soul in her throne room. She withdrew from her midnight-robes a tiny sphere
of glowing chartreuse light. The Mistress threw the sphere at the spirit of
Dawen Stroph.
The small ball encased the spiritual essence of Dawen Stroph. Even within
the globe he continued to mouth his pleas to the Mistress of Darkness. She
held the glowing ball in her two hands. Although the spirit of Dawen could not
make himself heard, the Mistress secured his attention without a sound or
gesture.
"I shall come for you once more to see if you have learned anything about
life," said the Mistress of Darkness. "Until then, death will never come to lead
you into my domain."
With that, the Mistress of Darkness tossed the glowing sphere aloft. She
guided the ball with one slender finger toward the sky. The trapped spirit of
Dawen Stroph succumbed to the light in the globe ... sphere ... light ...
... Light invaded Dawen Stroph's eyelids. He shook himself awake and felt
his body with unsure hands. Unfortunately, he found himself to be in the
same mortal husk he inhabited before he met the Mistress of Darkness.
"No!" screamed Dawen Stroph.
But his cry of anguish fell upon the deaf ears of the living and the dead alike.
The years passed swiftly for Dawen Stroph, and he forgot about his
encounter with the Mistress of Darkness. He was knighted by his King for his
valorous deeds. He had killed the leviathan of the Long-Lost Sea. He had slain
a dragon
as large and as immovable as a mountain. He had also rid the kingdom of a
band of greedy ogres invading the lands.
Despite his many accomplishments, he still found time to marry. Less than a
year into his blissful marriage, his beautiful young wife bore Sir Dawen a
healthy baby boy. When his son was barely old enough to take two steps at a
time, Sir Dawen Stroph was summoned by the King to go on a perilous quest.
Sir Dawen Stroph kissed both son and wife farewell. He mounted his horse
and left his castle, lands, and family behind him. Sir Dawen rode for the
kingdom's border. A fortnight later, he saw a slender figure clad in black
velvet robes.
Sir Dawen dismounted, cautiously approaching the figure with a drawn
sword. When he had come within a yard of the ebony-robed person, he tried
speaking to the figure.
"Who are you?" Sir Dawen queried. "In the name of the King, identify
yourself." He raised his sword in a forceful manner.
"If you think back a few years, I think you shall remember who I am," a low
voice said. Sir Dawen Stroph thought about it for a few moments.
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"The Mistress of Darkness!" Sir Dawen breathed. He quickly sheathed his
steel weapon.
"The King did not send you here I did," continued the Mistress. "Though
meeting me once more may prove to be your most challenging feat yet.
"Sir Dawen Stroph, have you changed? Yes, you have. I think you have a
different view of life from when I first encountered you."
The Mistress of Darkness stepped closer to Sir Dawen. Her eyes were still
swirls of crimson and black under her cloak's hood. She raised her hands to
the sky above. Murmured words escaped from her blood-red lips to the four
winds. Sir Dawen paled, he knew it was nearly impossible to stop Death from
coming for him. Yet Sir Dawen decided to speak. He wanted to live.
"I do not want you to take my life from me! I have a wife and son. I have to
live, if only for my family's sake."
The Mistress of Darkness wryly smiled in the shadows of her cowl. Sir
Dawen had learned about life. She let her hands drop to her sides. Then she
disappeared from Sir Dawen Stroph's sight and the world of man as well, not
to return until his time to reenter her living room.
RUSTED BLADE
by Dave Smeds
If there's anyone who still thinks I am prejudiced against male authors
(although how they can possibly think that after ten or eleven volumes, I'm
blest if I know), Dave Smeds alone should be enough to make them
reconsider; I forget just how many of these anthologies he's graced with his
presence, but it's a good many by now. He also lists on his biographical
update a daughter Lerina, age seven, and a newborn May 5, 1993 son
Elliott, as well as his wife Connie. He lives in Santa Rosa which, all things
considered, is not very far away.
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