The Elder
The sun warmed my face as the cool crisp air kissed my cheeks, and the breeze tousled my hair. I loved this time of year. Red and yellow leaves fell, gently cascading to the earth as silent witnesses to this fall day.
An ominous feeling erupted in the pit of my stomach as a weary old woman appeared from nowhere, hobbling toward me.
I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. My everything was rooted in the space around me.
As the Elder approached, she held it in her outstretched arms. A thick stick with knots and bumps matching her gnarled, arthritic knuckles. "It's yours now, young one.”
“I don’t want it. Not yet. I’m not ready,” My voice cracked.
“I must go. Your time is now,” the Elder said, “You will wield a great responsibility that will behold not only good and evil but also tremendous power.”
“I don…don’t…want…it…It’s not supposed to happen like this…” I said, knowing I was powerless to stop any of it.
The sky darkened, and the ancient lady shuffled into the forest, vanishing into the trees.
That had been two days ago.
The rain tapped at the windows, and the grayness of the day seeped into my soul. I sat in my apartment, twiddling the stick in my hands. It was long but thin, and the knots were already forming. I still had a bit of time, even if I could already feel a crippling trickling into my joints. I didn’t know much, but I knew this wasn’t supposed to happen. At least not yet. And certainly not now.
“Mae,” A voice called through the door just before three sharp knocks, “Are you in there? Are you okay?”
I sighed and tucked the stick under the pillow before I got up. I pulled the door open to let my friend Betts in, “Hey.”
She gave me her famous side-eye as she walked through, “What’s up, Mae? You feeling okay?”
I bit the inside of my mouth and made a decision. With a deep resignation, I reached under the covers and grabbed the stick, then tossed it on the bed.
Betts screeched like a wounded animal and jumped back about ten feet, clasping her hand over her mouth. She choked back her breath, and her horrified eyes met mine, “Is that?”
“Yeah,” I said, as my voice wobbled on hysterical, “It is.”
“But how?”
“An Elder showed up and handed it off while I was studying in the park the other day.”
“Shut up…that never happens!” Betts said, stepping further away from the stick, “And you’re barely 20. You’re supposed to live first.”
“I know,” I sighed and sat on the bed next to it, “But there's not much I can do now.”
“Did you…” Betts gave me a knowing nod, “...ask for help?”
I sort of shrugged. I’d been wallowing in my fate instead of actively problem-solving or looking for any other solution.
“I can’t find my mom. I called my aunt. No answer. I left her a cryptic message. I thought about calling the professor, but I don’t want to become a lab rat. I don’t know what to do.”
I eyed the stick. I could feel its power growing faster than I cared to admit, and I liked it. Well, some of it, not the impending doom part. I still wanted to touch it even knowing how this all turned out. The closer I got, the more the power surged through my body. It ran through my veins and stopped at my joints. Then my fingers ached, and my elbow stiffened, sending a sharp pain into my shoulder. I groaned and reached for the stick.
“No!” Betts yelled and reached out to pull me back, “You know, the more you touch it, the faster it happens.”
“What?!?! NO!” I shrieked. I’d been sitting here playing with this thing all morning.
Just as I was about to panic, there was a gentle knock and a soft voice at the door, “Mae?”
I sighed with relief and pulled the door open, “Auntie! I’m so glad you came. What’s happening? Where’s my mom?”
“Oh, Mae, honey, I’m so sorry,” My Auntie said and hugged me. I immediately knew everything was more wrong than I thought.
“What?” I stumbled backward, “What is it? What happened to her?”
“She succumbed to the power, Mae. I’m so sorry,” Auntie’s eyes held mine as she walked into my apartment.
“Wha…wha… what do you mean?” I said as I tried to envision the sound of my mother’s voice. I hadn’t spoken to her in a few years. We’d had a falling out, but she sent cards and called now and again. I never answered the phone or responded to the letter, but she still tried every now and again.
“Like I said, the power appealed more to her than anything else. That Elder, who handed you the stick, was your mother.”
“What! NO!” I cried, “But…but…she was soo old…like really decrepit and looked nothing like my mom.”
“It’s the stick,” she eyed the same stick sitting on my bed, “that will grow into your Death Scythe and become your most powerful tool. It will take a toll on you, and if you’re not careful, it will destroy you quickly. And you’ll hardly notice because the owner feels amazing while it’s happening. Until that day when you are a withered Elder and have no choice but to hand it off to your daughter.”
“I… I don’t have a daughter,” I said, unable to focus on anything but the things I knew to be true.
“You will sooner than you think,” My aunt rested one gnarled hand on my belly and held out her other as an invitation, “Now let me help you. Come with me.”
“I don’t want this life, Auntie,” I said, tears streaming from my eyes.
“I know, but you are, by nature, a Grim Reaper. It’s your heritage, your legacy, your purpose. I will help you. Guide you. Your mother was drawn to the power. I can show you how to find balance and enjoy your time on this Earth. Come with me.”
Betts stepped up and gripped my hand, “Go. You need this.”
She was right. I did.
With a nod, I grabbed my bag and threw my favorite things into it as my aunt wrapped my stick in a special cloth. I grabbed Betts in a hard hug before I walked out the door after my aunt. It was my only chance at a life worth living instead of a speedy descent to death.
The End
