"DEaTh is always permanent."

It was a whisper, barely more than a breath on the wind. It carried no warning, only the truth.

And so it took Bick Dig by surprise. He looked around for someone to tell him what was happening, but there wasn't anyone nearby who could answer his question. He stood there in silence, waiting.

The words continued, floating out of the darkness.

"But it will fade away eventually. Like dew on flowers."

Bick Dig didn't understand, nor did he want to. Still, something in the tone made his head spin. It was wrong. Everything about this conversation was wrong, and yet... he knew that it had to be true.

He turned back towards the east, where the light from the world's windows shone through the trees. The day would break soon. Perhaps then the sun would show his face again.

As though reading his thoughts, a voice spoke behind him.

"Nor is LiFe. To the foul is fair and the fair is foul. To the northern sea I found it dull."

Bick Dig whipped around, searching in vain for whoever had spoken.

When he caught sight of the figure in the shadows between two trees, his heart sank. There was nowhere to go now. No place left to flee. All he could do was stand his ground.

Slowly, the person stepped forward into the moonlight. It seemed as though he were approaching from the opposite side of the lake, rather than the same direction that Bick Dig had been walking in before. His eyes met Bick Dig's. He saw recognition flash in them before he disappeared once more into the darkness.

He hadn't seen the boy's face, just his back, when he emerged. He could still see his hair and clothes, though, as he walked through the forest. Bick Dig felt the hairs raise at the nape of his neck when they brushed against the small of his back, making him shiver. Was that a trick of the wind? A trick of memory?

Bick Dig didn't know. But even if it weren't, the fact remained that his body was telling him everything he needed to know.

It's not real, Bick Dig thought, willing his legs to carry him farther up the mountain. This can't be real. This isn't real.

He tried taking another step. His legs felt like jelly beneath him, unable to bear the weight. They gave way at last, sending him sprawling into a patch of grass with a thud.

He lay there for a moment, his head spinning with all the things he wanted to say, but nothing came out. He just stared up at the night sky.

There are stars above him, falling from the heaven. Their light casts an eerie glow over the landscape. As he watched, the stars seemed to come closer and closer until he was staring directly into their cold, white pinpoints. Then his vision went black.

&*()$#@

When Bick Dig woke next, he wasn't alone. His eyes snapped open. He found himself looking right at the strange boy sitting across from him, gazing out over the river. For a moment, Bick Dig thought it was just some trick of the eye; perhaps he'd fallen asleep on the path after all. He blinked several times, trying to get used to the brightness of the stars. When he opened his mouth to speak, however, he heard words echo from inside.

The boy spoke softly, almost too quietly to hear. "You are one of us. One of DEaTH. One of LIfe."

Bick Dig closed his mouth, swallowing thickly. "I'm sorry?" he said. "I don't..."

The boy turned and looked at Bick Dig, his expression unreadable. Then he looked away again, turning to gaze out over the water. A moment later, his head snapped up.

He held something in his hands. He extended his arm toward Bick Dig.

At first Bick Dig couldn't work out what it was. It was long and silver and curved, with a sharp end. Then he realized it was a knife, and he scrambled backwards. He got his feet under him and launched himself to his feet. He kept backing away, stumbling over tree roots and rocks until he collided with the bank. When he looked down, the boy had risen to his feet too. He moved swiftly. By the time Bick Dig was able to pull his gaze back up, the strange boy was standing over him.

Then, slowly and deliberately, he brought the knife over his own throat.

"No!" Bick Dig cried. He reached out desperately, desperate to stop him, but his fingers curled harmlessly around empty air. The knife fell to the ground.

Bick Dig fell back onto the ground, clutching at his arms as though they had betrayed him. The boy crouched beside him.

"I am DEaTh," the boy said. Bick Dig looked up into his eyes. The boy's gaze was unwavering, unflinching. He was waiting, waiting to see how Bick Dig might react. Slowly, hesitantly, Bick Dig lifted his hand and placed it flat against DEaTh's chest. He could feel the other boy's heartbeat, rapid and strong. There was blood underneath his skin, and Bick Dig felt sick, nauseous. He closed his eyes.

"This doesn't make sense."

DEaTh smiled sadly. "That is because it does."

He pushed his shoulder into the center of Bick Dig's chest and shoved him backwards, forcing him to hit the ground hard. As Bick Dig crumpled to the ground, DEaTh kicked at him and then crouched above him.

The boy's hands closed around Bick Dig's shoulders and yanked him upwards roughly. Then, before Bick Dig knew it, he was flying.

He screamed as he was thrown through the air, a terrible sound filled with agony and anguish and fear.

For what seemed like ages, Bick Dig felt himself hurtling through the sky, twisting and turning and flipping end over end. At last his momentum slowed, and he crashed painfully to earth. Pain shot through him. He lay sprawled out on the ground, dazed, his lungs gasping for air.

Someone sat down beside him. The stranger, The boy. He helped Bick Dig sit up against a tree.

"Do you know what I am?" asked DEaTh, smiling down at him. "Are you afraid?"

Bick Dig glared up at him, but his fear remained silent.

"Good," said DEaTh. "You should never be afraid. Only brave people are allowed to have such feelings."

"What...?" gasped Bick Dig, struggling for breath. "How are you-"

"We are DEaTh," said DEaTh. "All of us."

He held out his hand toward Bick Dig and waited for him to take it. When Bick Dig hesitated, DEaTh pulled him upward and forced the palm of his hand to press firmly against the other boy's skin.

Pain flashed through Bick Dig's body, tearing into his chest like knives. Then the pain was gone.

Determination filled his eyes as he raised his head to look at DEaTh. He was prepared to die here, in this place. That much was clear.

A strange feeling overtook him. It began as a faint buzzing sensation deep inside his head. It grew stronger. It began to fill his whole body.

"This is LiFe. My opposite. Foul as me, and Fair as I."

Before he could stop himself, Bick Dig lunged forward, slamming into DEaTh's chest, knocking them both to the ground. The boy rolled over onto his stomach, pushing the smaller man off of him and scrambling back to his feet, ready to run away again.

Bick Dig grabbed the boy's leg tightly and pulled.

DEaTh let out a scream of fury. As he struggled free, Bick Dig managed to push him backwards. Before DEaTh could regain his balance and retaliate, Bick Dig had crawled over to the boy's discarded knife and picked it up. With his other hand, he pressed the edge up against his neck.

As DEaTh struggled to break free of Bick Dig's grasp, Bick Dig thrust the blade in deep, cutting the soft flesh at the base of the neck. Blood spurted over Bick Dig's hand, staining the knife red.

DEaTh collapsed onto the ground with a loud crash, the knife rolling out of his grasp. He twitched a few times, and then lay still.

In one smooth motion, Bick Dig leapt to his feet. In the distance, he heard footsteps clattering against the gravel of the path. Someone was coming! He glanced back at the stranger lying lifeless nearby.

He took one more deep breath, steeling himself for whatever would happen next. Then, without further hesitation, he ran.

The air whistled past him. He could hardly breathe for the speed at which he was running. All around him, trees rushed by him, leaving dark smears across his vision. It was getting harder to breathe, harder to think, harder to keep up the pace. The sounds were fading behind him now. All he could do was continue to run and hope for the best.

His footfalls sounded louder than ever.

Bick Dig stumbled, his body collapsing to the ground in front of a bridge. He slid to the side, falling onto his back. Above him, he could see two figures walking quickly along the bridge.

It didn't matter who they were. If there was someone out there who could help him, Bick Dig would find him. He would call out his name over and over, even if that meant he was shouting the entire way.

But no voice replied to his shouts. No one came to help him. Instead, he could hear a distant roar echoing through the trees as the approaching soldiers came to meet him. And soon afterwards, his world went black.

&*()$#@

By now, the sun was completely up. The birds' song filled the quiet morning. Bick Dig awoke groggily, unsure of what happened. He tried to move, but when he put any weight on his left ankle, he winced in pain. After a moment he opened his eyes to look around and immediately felt dizzy and disoriented. He squinted up to where he assumed the sun must be in the sky.

Wherever he was, it looked like he was somewhere near the middle of the forest. Thick trees surrounded him, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. The ground beneath him was cool and moist. It was hard, almost rocky beneath his palms.

Bick Dig pushed himself up onto his elbows and stared ahead at the tree line, looking for signs of civilization.

Suddenly, a shrill, piercing noise cut through the air, accompanied by the sound of voices.

A moment later, four large men burst out of the brush, all armed with bows and spears, and started yelling orders at each other.

A moment after that, an arrow pierced right through the space between Bick Dig's eye sockets.

His body went limp. For a second, the world wavered. Bick Dig blinked a few times, trying to focus. He was looking straight at the bowman who had shot him. "LiFe is foul..." whispered DEaTh, "but fair."

Bick Dig's heart stopped. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly. The arrow disappeared from his skull and dropped onto the ground, landing just beyond his reach.

Tnd Ehe