• Tmp, tmp, tmp, tmp.. I followed the sounds of her footsteps.
    "Why do you follow me, for I followed the hart?"
    "Death has come for me," she whispered. "John Temsland, the prince, fell for a vagrant who fell in love with dying."
    "Celia, I could never.."
    "I do not wish to hasten my death, my prince. Rather, I have been with death the second I was born."
    Celia's deep purple eyes were beautifully cruel. Her long brown hair, which was so very close to being black, was braided and adorned with a yellow chiffon bow.
    "My prince-"
    "Call me John," I said quietly. I couldn't bear to look up at Celia's face. Perhaps it was the pity in her eyes. Or maybe it was because I knew she would be torn from my hands by her best friend, Death.
    "Alright then," she said with a small laugh. "John. Bargaining with Lord Death is not easy. He is wise, and cold hearted. He knows when to strike, how to take the living soul out of you, and you wouldn't feel a thing."
    "I tried to save Mrs. Giselle when she gave birth to Martin. I was there. Death lurked in a corner, quiet, yet respectfully waiting to take what he came for. I thought to myself, 'If you are here to take Martin, then take me.' But he responded, 'You lose. I did not come for the child, but the mother.' "
    Celia sniffled. but her eyes were stone cold. She did not blink away her tears as all the other maidens would of done, but instead let them fall. She did not excuse the rudeness of her action, but went on. All I could do was stare. Had I touched her, she would of pushed me away. Had I spoken, she would of loathed me for speaking of matters I did not know of.
    "And just like that, I lost Mrs. Giselle. Martin grew up only with his father, and how he longs for a real mother just as you have, John. He despises you for taking everything for granted. I did not say this to spite you, but to tell you you should be grateful. Death has been a close friend of mine since, and he was in every corner of every house, waiting for the opening, and waiting to pay his own respects to his own kind. The Dead."
    Her tears hit the forest floor like rocks. It shook the ground, perhaps the whole Earth itself. I could not say a thing. I would not know what it's like to see Death at every corner, and I would not want to in any case.
    "Prince John Temsland, first son of King Jole Temsland and Queen Risa. Will you enlighten me.." Celia looked up at me, her face filled with anger and sorrow, "As to why you fell for such a filthy villager such as I?"
    I swallowed. For all I knew, I could die at this moment, this second. I could drop dead if I spoke one wrong word. Yet it was sweet Celia who was speaking to me. Is there a way to refuse a request from a crying woman who you fell so deeply in love with?
    "Truly, I can enlighten you, Celia Herring."
    "Then do so," she said coldly.
    "I fell in love with you because you never gave up. Indeed, you are strong, and show great determination. Your face showed purity, but looked as though twas tainted black by hardships. Elin Wood is truly small, yet all the woman seemed to seek me, the prince, because of my status. A woman such as yourself, beautiful and kind, showed no interest. It intrigued me to think, there was someone like you."
    "How shallow," Celia interrupted. "Do you honestly believe, that every woman would look for you, the prince, because you are royalty?" she said sharply. "I believe they figured you'd treat them like a princess, treat them like royalty themselves, no matter whom they are.Truly, you are a prince. Dumb as one, and think like one."
    I laughed nervously. Her point stood, however..
    "You did not let me finish, my dear."
    "John Temsland, no matter what you say will make me love you."
    "I never said I intended it to. You asked for me to enlighten you."
    "However, I feel there is more to your list then what the ears hear, and more to it than the eyes see." I closed my eyes.
    "Then I shall see nothing, and listen to only the quiet hum of birds chirping. Celia Herring, you intrigued me not because you did not seek me, but because of the way you had with words. It twisted my insides when you told them, it made my heart drop and lift. No, allow me to correct all that I have listed."
    Celia lifted an eyebrow. "Truly John Temsland, you intrigue me as well with your choice of words."
    "I love everything about you."
    "....."
    The quiet sounds of nature filled the air, but the silence was loudest of all. Celia seemed to have a sixth sense, and so, maybe she could hear my heart's beats. The wind blew through her chocolate brown hair. She looked as though she was possessed by a demon. Her sunny yellow dress blew in the wind, and as fast as the wind, her tears were gone. Celia reached for my hand, and put it against her face.
    "The touch of a living, breathing human. It is such a waste.. for them to die.."
    "Then why do you love Lord Death as you do?"
    Celia gave me a faint smile.
    "Because I am destined to become Lord Death's bride to save your country, Prince Temsland. Perhaps you were unaware, however, the plague creeps in the shadows. Maybe the world is not as innocent as you presumed, sir, but if I were you, I'd save yourselves from Lord Death. It approaches swiftly, and will leave no corner untouched."
    "How.. do I save.. my people?" I choked. "Celia, please, tell me.. if you will not let me love you, let me love the people of Elin Wood."
    "You cannot unless you all disappear, and return in two years. But by then, Elin Wood will of changed. The plague leaves no corner untouched, and as so, nothing will be the same."
    The breeze was cool, and I felt another presence.
    "Celia Herring. You have followed the Hart into the forest, and you are to die. What do you wish to do?"
    I only heard the voice, but there was no noise. I hugged Celia with one arm, and drew my sword with the other.
    "John, this is my fight."
    "I can't let you.. I won't let you..!"
    Celia laughed. It was like twinkling melody of silver bells. "I told you I shall not hasten my Death. Now leave this forest at once."
    ********
    "Celia Herring, age 14. daughter of Charity Herring and Marik Herring. I am quite familiar with.. ah.. your parents.."
    Celia looked up, her hand on her heart. Lord Death himself, sickle and cloak, covered by darkness.
    "I will not die, for I have not found my true love."
    "Then, tell me someone else who shall die. A small child perhaps? Someone you don't know?"
    "No, Lord Death," Celia replied. "I could not take a child's life, for they have so much to live for. No, I could not take someone's life away who I don't know. They may have a family, or someone dear to them. Therefore, I refuse to replace my death with theirs."
    Lord Death's bony finger touched Celia's warm face. His finger, ice cold, carried the sadness of souls, and warmth of happy memories, the regret of death.
    "Perhaps your grandmother, she is to die soon."
    Still looking straight at Death, she replied,
    "No, Lord Death, my grandmother is in love, and she will live and teach to her fullest until her day. She has much to live for, despite her age. She will not die for me."
    "Choirmaster? Tailor?"
    "Especially.. not them," Celia whispered. "Bea has the voice of an angel, and Choirmaster directs those with heavenly voices. So not him."
    "Tailor, then? He cannot properly take care of his children."
    "Lord Death, I do not think you understand. All eight of his children will miss him dearly when he is gone. They will never grow up and dance with him on their wedding day. Gretta sews the best patches, and Tailor guides her needle through it all. So not him."
    Lord Death was getting irritable.
    "Then who?"
    "I do not wish to take someone's life. It must be me, but not today. I will tell you a story."
    "Amuse me, girl," Lord Death said coldly, "But if you cannot, you die here and now."
    "It is a story of love, a story of death. A story of pies and fruits galore. A story of an all seeing eye who will spin at the owners feelings."
    "Interesting, never heard that one," Death interrupted.
    "Once upon a time, there was a girl," Celia said, pronouncing it clearly. "She tried to bargain for more time, so Lord Death would fall in love and fill his prophecy. Because the girl was already in love with the cruelest gift. So she plead to Lord Death, 'If I make a wonderful pie of lemons and oranges, the prince will marry me. I think he may be my true love.'"
    "And Lord Death was cold, he had not felt love. Yet he gave her a day. The girl lost, but feelings were stirring inside of Death. Every night, she spun a story for Lord Death. She gave up. The prince was not her true love. The eye did not sit still, but kept looking."
    "As the girl was about to sacrifice herself, Death came. The eye stopped moving. Lord Death was the girls true love. And he warned her of plague, and she warned everyone else."
    ...A pause.
    "There is something missing, Lord Death, but he is still here, the piece," Celia whispered.
    "What do you mean?"
    "This part of the story. John Temsland, the Prince of Elin Wood, the one who was most sought after. He saved Elin Wood of plague, however.."
    "....Continue, Ms. Herring."
    "..He asked for a favor of the girl, one in which he would regret. 'If I cannot save the one I love, let me save my people.' He fell in love with the girl, and she told him how to save his people. So he lost the girl, and he saved his people. Yet, the ultimate price was to be paid."
    "Lord Death himself had not found love in the girl, but the girl showed him he could. And his cold lips touched hers as he named her his bride. Lord Death swept the girl off her feet, and killed her, the girl obsessed with Death. Watching it all, behind a tree, was a boy."
    "A small boy, nothing special. However, the boy was John Temsland. Before his eyes, he lost the girl. She disappeared from the tips of his fingers. The story stopped spinning from that point, and instead, was cruelly cut off by his foolish wish. He wished death upon the woman he loved."
    "..Truly, Celia, that was indeed.. unique."
    "Lord Death, you are already squirming."
    "Perhaps because it is true."
    "Nooo...!" I screamed. No matter how loud, I was unheard. Lord Death held Celia Herring in his arms, his lips touching hers. It was not yet my time to cry. It was my time to run. She was further than I anticipated.
    "Now, Lord Death.. the last part.. must be filled."
    Lord Death carried her, her yellow dress dulling to a gray, tearing apart. A veil of darkness surrounded as I watched her die.

    Yes, she did slip away at the tips of my fingers. All that was left was a gust of wind, and a strand of silk, spun with small words.

    I died, in hopes of joining my dear Celia. In Death's world, I was falling, and I was told this:
    I would never have her, she would never have me. Their love was too deep to break.
    And I was told one more thing.

    They would have me.