It has been several months since Nur became Desolai’s servant. At least it seemed that way to him while he spent time in Shinigami’s dimension where time was controlled by the owner of the domain. Nur wasn’t sure how much time passed in the outside world nor did he care. He was just glad to be of help to someone who provided him shelter.

Of course, as a servant, Nur did accompany Desolai numerous times to reap the lingering souls, and soon he got used to the idea that death was the eventual finality. Because of this, he no longer had any thoughts on stopping anyone from dying; instead he chose to focus on gardening.

Strangely, Desolai only took him to places where the living being already perished, making Nur unable to interfere with the fate of the soul. Nur felt as though Desolai took more precautions against him ever since his first blunder. Instead of chastising him for his insubordination, she instead chose to take him to deaths that already occurred, not about to occur.

“Well, I can’t complain, she is a good boss, ironically, considering she is death incarnate.” Nur remarked as he planted some flowers.

Lately, gardening and growing flowers has become a hobby of his after he found out how much he enjoyed growing plant life.

Even Desolai found his hobby fascinating. Nur occasionally found her admiring the flowers and even sniffing them. She would giggle and enjoy their soft colors, scent and touch. It was as if she was not a Shinigami but a normal living being. Of course, as soon as Nur saw her, she would pretend she didn’t do anything out of character for a Shinigami and would only make short glances at his garden while he was around, definitely embarrassed at her own fascination with mundane.

“Well, it couldn’t be helped, the flowers grow and bloom, making a beautiful sight to see. She said she knew many things about the mortal world, but could it be…” Nur thought. “She has never seen it up close?” Now it made sense. Shinigami, with her limited existence in mortal plain would only have occasional chances at admiring the mortal realm, spending most of the time in her realm, which was the pale replica of what she has seen in the mortal realm. Copies without meaning, without understanding, they were just objects.

Due to Nur’s interference Desolai began to see how something could be created in her domain instead of being copied without clear purpose. As she saw him labor each time he was in her domain, she began to see why mortals considered life beautiful. It wasn’t because the beauty was granted to mortals, but because mortals make it beautiful. Nur’s labors on his flower garden that shined with flowers of every color were a proof of how human beings made their reality enjoyable.

“Who would have thought it would take an interference to show me how lovely the mortal world is?” Desolai looked at Nur still musing over his flower garden. She whispered “Nur, Thank you, for making my domain feel like true home.”

“Anyways, she has done so much for me; I have to do something in order to thank her.” Nur looked at the mud at his hands, it was clay soil. “And I think I know just what to give her.”

He would make a statue out of clay that would simultaneously be a flower pot. An artwork and a useful tool, what a great idea.

While the idea seemed wonderful, Nur soon found out how bad the clay was at sticking to itself. No matter how much water he added, nothing would make the clay stick to itself.

“Nur! Could you please clean the library?” Desolai’s voice transmitted to Nur.

One of his duties was to keep the Shinigami domain clean.

Putting the mud aside, Nur took the broom and entered the library.

There was much dust to swipe, some insects, and most unusual of all-black feathers.

Without a doubt, those were Desolai’s feathers.

“So she does molt them, huh.” Nur scratched his head in surprise.

He put all the feathers he could find in a bag while sweeping the entire library. Soon enough the library was spotless.

“Well, now back to clay making!” Nur declared before returning to his self-imposed task.

He still had the bag with feathers on him.

“Well, I might as well get rid of the feathers” Nur put all of the feathers in a tray and lit a match, catching all the feathers in flame.

Now a bid pile of dust remained.

“Now to bury the dust…” Nur looked at the dust and at his damp clay.

Then an idea came to him. “What if I combine the clay with all of this dust, maybe that would work!”

Nur swiftly combined dust and the clay together. He proceeded to mix them together until it was one thick substance.

“Now for me to… ouch!” Nur took out his hand out of the mix. His right palm was cut open with blood spilling out. The mixture ended up having his blood mixed in. Apparently there was something sharp inside the clay mixture that he failed to see. Nur found out it was a piece of glass.

“How did that get in here? Well, I will just have to use this clay then.” Nur said after bandaging his palm. The blood leaking stopped, but it still stung.

Disregarding the stinging pain, Nur proceeded to work on his masterpiece.

Defying his expectation of failure, the clay mixture actually ended up manageable. It now stuck to itself well as well as capable of taking any form his hands gave it without cracking.

After three hours of tireless work, Nur made a small figure resembling a human child. It was roughly the size of a human child, considering it reached up to Nur’s waist.

As for the face, Nur tried his best to make a smiling child’s face with round eyes and spiky hair highly resembling Nur’s own.

With such a cute face on, the statue looked remarkably like a true human child.

After the clay sculpture hardened, Nur proceeded to put it into the oven in order to completely solidify his statue.

The clay lost all the moisture inside of it, now it looked nothing like mud, but more like a smooth statue.

“Allright! I really have made my masterpiece!” Nur declared before dozing off to sleep, fully knowing that he has made perfect present for Desolai.

The clay statue looked like a small child. Nur affectionately named him Kunjarik, meaning shiny sun. He engraved the name on top of the small hat he carved on the statue’s head.

Little did Nur know that by accidentally mixing the essence of Shinigami, earth, and his own blood, he had created the unprecedented.

The next morning Nur woke up to a soft, child’s voice. It was calling him.

“Father, father, please wake up.”

Nur opened his eyes and immediately jumped as soon as he saw the child.

“Father! Are you feeling well?” the child asked.

Nur closed his eyes and opened them again. He realized he wasn’t hallucinating. ‘Why is there a child here? Did he mistake me for his parent? More importantly, where is my statue?’

The statue was nowhere to be seen.

“Father! What are you looking for?”

“Um, kiddo, did you by any chance see a statue around here…it was about as tall as you and…” Nur stopped for a moment, looking at the child.

‘That appearance, that face, that clothing, no way!’ Nur thought internally. The appearance of the child clearly matched that of the statue he made. But there was no way this child could be that statue, there was just no way.

“What is your name kiddo?” Nur cautiously asked.

“It’s Kunjarik” the child replied with a bright smile.

Not believing his eyes, Nur bent over and took a look at the back of child’s hat. There, on the back was writing –Kunjarik. The child really was the statue.

“OOOOOOOOH!” Nur said with an open mouth, now realizing what he had created.

“Father, father, let’s go see mother!” Kunjarik said while jumping from one place to the next.

“Yeah, let’s do that” Nur said with a mortified expression. ‘He said mother, does that mean… Desolai! How does he know about her? And why the heck does he assume I am his father?’

“By the way, are you sure I am your father?” Nur asked, facing Kunjarik on the face level.

“Yeah! I can sense that your blood within my veins. I can sense mommy as well, that way!” the child pointed in direction out of the building in a playful manner.

“I see.” Nur mumbled.

“Let’s go, father! Mommy is waiting!” child jumped ahead.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Nur weakly mumbled. ‘For better or worse, I think I have made a very lively present for Desolai.’