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When the stars were young and the sun was new, a woman of great power and strong mind met Death at a four-way crossing. Cloaked

in shadow despite the high noon hour, he welcomed those who found their way to him, and he always afforded them the same opportunity:

a path of their choosing.

“Successfully choose the correct path forward, and I will allow you to pass, turning my back to you and your kin. Choose incorrectly

and walk with me now to your end,” he said.

The woman studied Death with keen eyes. She was not afraid, but she knew there was magic in words. Her choice was not one

to be taken lightly.

“What do the paths represent?” she asked.

With bony fingers, Death gestured to her left: “A fork in the road you missed in your youth.” Then, directly before her: “The

unchanged path, as most predict.” To her right: “A future, wild and unseen.” Death looked beyond her to the path she’d been

walking: “And a past you cannot escape.”

The woman pondered her options. She knew she was not the first to meet Death on this road and surmised all paths had been chosen before. She glanced to her left. To right a wrong or avoid a regret and start anew... She narrowed her eyes. Only to meet Death sooner.

She stared past Death at the path ahead . The unchanged path that led me to Death; the only prediction guaranteed to come true.

She shook her head and gazed to the right. Wild and unseen. Tragic and swift. Grimacing, she regarded the path behind her, and she knew that if she turned back now, her feet would only carry her here

again—the path she could not escape.

“Every path leads me to you,” she said.

Death smiled. “Yes.”

“I see. Then I’ll return tomorrow.” And with that, the woman left down the path she’d came, leaving a perplexed Death behind.

When the sun rose, the woman returned. She asked Death the same question, received the same answer, and once again departed

down the path she’d come.

This continued for a decade until Death’s patience grew thin. “Your time is up.” From the folds of his cloak, he drew a blade

devoid of life and color, darker than the depths of night. The woman studied the weapon without moving, but there was a strange

glint to her hardened stare that even Death could not miss. He gripped the weapon tighter and said, “Death comes for us all.”

“Including you?” she asked, finally rounding her gaze to Death.

She was not the first person to ask such a thing, and she wouldn’t be the last. Death once again hid his blade in his cloak.

“There is death for me yet, but you are not it. You do not possess the power or the weapon. It is your fate to meet me here,

and you’ve wasted enough of my time.”

She nodded. “I understand. Grant me one final chance to say my farewells, and I’ll part from the life I’ve always known.”

Sensing a shift in her demeanor, Death allowed her this cour tesy. When she returned the next morning, Death once again gestured to the roads. “Choose.”

Without hesitation, the woman strode forward and unsheathed a dagger, a twin to Death’s own weapon, and plunged it deep into

his gut. “I know you, Death. I came into the world cloaked in your shadow when you stole my mother’s life as I left her womb.

You think I’m powerless? Far from it. I’ve been watching you for years, biding my time until it made sense for me to strike.

You will not take me, too. The path I choose is yours.”

Stunned by her revelation and grievously wounded, Death had no option but to concede. “Spare my life, and I’ll spare yours,”

he said. She waited, her hand gripped tightly around the hilt of her blade. “Walk whichever path you please. You shall be...

ever living.” Slowly, so as not to draw the woman’s blade farther into his own flesh, Death reached into the folds of his

cloak and extracted a smooth stone of pure moonlight. “I cannot walk where there are no shadows. Stay within its glow, and

you will never see me again.”

“And for my kin?” She took the proffered gem while twisting her knife deeper. Instead of ruby blood, obsidian rivulets oozed

down the blade.

Death hissed. “Split it. Search for more. All jewels of this nature are now bound by this promise, I swear to you.”

“Good.” She removed her blade and continued onward, down a path Death did not see, while pocketing the stone with a smile.

And while Death lay crumpled in the crossroads, feeling bitter and cheated, he decided he’d allow the woman and her kin to

feel safe for a time—long enough for all to forget the power of her bargain and everything she left out.