Modeled after Giovanni Boccaccio's classic from the 14th Century, this collection similarly brought 100+ short stories to Wattpad readers. The original's premise was simple: ten individuals entertained themselves over a span of ten days by telling a...
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The god of Death felt the fear rolling off the nine souls he was to claim. They hid in the shadows, staring at him with hollow eyes and raw hearts. His job only ever got harder these days. Sometimes he felt as if the weight of all those he'd escorted to his kingdom would crush him.
"Please, sir," one of the souls said. "Give us more time."
He sighed, shaking his head. "I can give you only what Death will allow. A few more minutes for your bodies to grow cold. After that, we must go."
They huddled together, staring at the familiar sights that would soon be lost to them forever. The thatched houses that all stood empty now, the trees and grass that were dead for the winter. No one looked at the bodies just a few feet away, cooling fast.
Their terror began to stink. It was a smell he could never wash off him. Each soul added to it as they clung to every second they still had in their world.
This time he watched one of the souls, a girl with golden hair and braver eyes than the others. She sometimes glanced at him, which was more than he'd seen a long time. For some reason he felt as if he should help her in some way. Perhaps lessen the horror of her last moments, distract her from her body that had already stopped pooling blood on the road.
"Would you wish to hear a story?" he asked. He didn't expect an answer, because he knew he wouldn't get one. Perhaps he would give them a story about her. The last human to ever have power over him.
When the souls only stared at him, he decided perhaps he would. Maybe they could find hope in a story of a girl who could control Death.
"Once upon a time, I gifted a family the ability to reclaim just one person that I had claimed as my own. They were allowed to save only one within their lifetime, but I allowed that it would be a gift that passed from parent to child throughout their generations. Naturally, they saved their loved ones to live on time they would not have otherwise had. Yet, as the generations passed, their gift was exposed to the wrong people. The family was captured by a conquering king. He lived two hundred years by using their gift to protect him from each of his deaths. Through those years he learned to keep this family close by his side, leaching off the gift that I had intended for them alone."
The souls shivered, staring at the ground as a rain began to fall. Soon it would wash the blood away, and the vultures would take care of the rest.
"That is where our story begins. With the last of the death tamers. A girl, gifted with power over Death, yet chained to the side of a king who refused to fear me."
----
Eronwy peeked into the infirmary and sighed in relief when she saw that it was empty of any of the healers. She edged through the door and dashed to the corner of the room she knew so well. She knew it was silly, but each step made it harder for her to hide the smile that threatened to break across her face.
