by Lea-Jupiter
Death looked at Marina. When they first met, she had been mortal. He had pulled her out of her body, but she hadn´t disappeared. “I believe I can no longer call you mortal, Marina.” he pondered. She looked up from the window of light that was disappearing, the sound of rain pattering on a flat rooftop vanishing with it. “Why?” she asked. “Because you are still here.” “But I have left my body.” She observed the vanishing light with this incomparable melancholy she wore like jewellery. “But your body isn´t you.” he said. “It contains you, but it isn´t you.” “Wasn´t.” she corrected. “I´m sure they have buried it by now.” The window was gone and the darkness had taken over again. And there she was. Small, fragile, and luminous. “Do you have a favourite memory?” He had heard her put that question to others and many times the answers had been enlightening. “Yes.” Marina smiled. An honest smile. “When I was young, we always went to a carnival light show. The fireworks and the music were wonderful.” “Music?” he asked. She looked at him. “Yes, music. You must have heard it through the windows before.”
When he didn´t answer, she took his hand, looked at it, her cheeks blushing, and started to sing. A beautiful melody, sad and lovely at the same time. He held his breath the entire time. Death had indeed heard music before, but had never found a name for it. “Mortals create that?” he queried? Marina smiled. “We do.” “How fascinating.” The same species that slaughtered and burned everyone and everything in its way, evil and violent, was also capable of creating such sublime beauty. He put his hand on her chest. “Do it again.” he demanded, and felt her chest vibrate with the resonance of music as she did what he asked. It was the closest thing to divinity he had ever come across. When she concluded, she giggled. “I´m an awful singer.” He shook his head. “You´re wonderful.”
Then he asked for the last time: “Are you happy?” She answered: “No.” “Why not?” “Because ending unhappiness is not the same as being happy. You cannot make me happy. Only I can do that. And I could have only done it back in the light.” “But you didn´t.” “No, I didn´t.”
There was one more question: “Marina.” “Yes?” “Why do you walk with the shadows if you know that happiness can only be found in the light?”
“Because,” she smiled, “the light is nothing if not a collection of billions of candles without which it would be indistinguishable from the darkness.”
He walked towards her, took her in his arms and leaned down. The moment their lips met, she burst into embers, glowing bright, raining down around him. But they didn´t vanish like the others did. They landed on the ground and where they were, small, glowing flowers bloomed.
Death went to his knees.
He felt.
And the darkness had gained just a little bit of light.
© Lea-Jupiter 2022-03-22