Death had a silver boat that he loved. On endless, cold nights, he would cut through the blue waves of the limbo, searching for the souls of the living. Just like him, Life also had a boat, on which he would rescue the souls that Death had snatched with his hook. It can’t be said that he was always successful, but he too would steal souls from Death’s realm. Like Life, Death took care of the souls in his domain and believed that by capturing those unfortunate souls, he was saving them from a great deception. Sometimes, when he held his hook still, he would suddenly see the water’s surface ripple slightly and immediately pull the hook out of the water. He would look in amazement at the souls who saw him as a beautiful goddess in his dark cloak. But he didn’t understand why they fled from the world of the living by their own will, although he later realized that those souls were night wanderers who loved dancing under the moonlight.
In the realms of Death and Life, there were similarities and differences. For example, in the realm of Life, everyone considered Death cursed and evil and worshipped the blessing of “Life,” regardless of whether they understood him or visited his land. The dead were the same; they would fall into despair upon seeing the realm of Death, its silence, and its coldness, but they didn’t realize that they were not lost, only wandering.
One day, as Life was sailing on the turquoise river, water suddenly began to overflow from the edges of his boat. He couldn’t believe how this had happened or what would become of “Life” after him. When he looked more closely, he noticed Death’s hook caught at the bottom of his boat, pulling him into the realm of souls. Life became very angry and threw his hook into the water with all his might. In their struggle for victory, each exerted more pressure on themselves, but in the end, both of them drowned. Death fell into the realm of Life, and Life was trapped in the realm of the dead. Death couldn’t bear the sunlight; he needed the tranquility of the night. So, with his hook, he pulled down the sun and extinguished it to make the place a bit like his home. But the sky turned blue, and Death plunged the world of the living into absolute darkness.
A similar thing happened to Life. Unable to see the silver light of the moon as sufficient, he pulled down the moon with his hook and set it on fire. But what he wanted was very different from what he had done. Now an ugly object burned in the sky, disturbing the souls.
Life and Death had grown to despise each other. They sought refuge in the river to escape the world they had disrupted, but wherever they went, they saw the results of their actions. The burning moon and the dark world were never hidden from their sight for a moment. Suddenly, an idea struck them. They needed to return to their own realms. Death prepared his hook and cast it into the water. The bait was caught on the hook, and Death tried to pull it up, hoping it was Life. He saw that he couldn’t, and the mysterious object resisted. He said it was himself and began to drill holes in the boat. The water rose and embraced Death’s black cloak. For the last time, he looked at the world he had destroyed and drowned in the turquoise turbulence of the water.
Death slowly sank into the water, and the turbulence on the surface faded from his view. Death entered a realm that was forbidden to him, the liminal land. How he got there was a mystery to him, but he knew that land was not always welcoming to travelers.
Death, however, felt that his fall was somehow an ascent because he didn’t feel like he was drowning. He felt he was getting closer to the surface. When he emerged from the river, he saw a radiant figure shining like the sun amidst the gloomy, misty mass. In that infinite space covered with nothingness, it felt like the moment of the world’s beginning, and he felt with all his being that he knew that majestic figure. Death didn’t know, but it was Life who was drawing Death under his shadow.
Life addressed Death: “Who are you?”
Death did not answer and silently spread the shadow of silence around him. Life stared into Death’s eyes and saw a piece of mist in his hands forming into a long-handled scythe with a blade that shone like moonlight. Life’s eyes sparkled, and he said, “So you are the cause of all these calamities.” Death took a few steps closer and said, “No, you are the cause of all these calamities!”
Life became angry and said, “You have turned the world of the living into hell, you steal souls and exile them to the endless darkness of your existence. You are the curse of the universe!”
Death knew that whatever he said would be seen by Life as an excuse for all the actions he was accused of, so he preferred to let his silence speak for him. Life approached Death and stared into his glassy eyes.
“All the souls want is the pleasure they found in the light of Life, not the cold of an endless desert!”
“No, this is only your belief. All the souls want is a truth that calms their troubled nature.”
“And what is that truth?”
“A truth that binds us all together; it smiles behind every beauty and reminds us that every arrival has a departure, good or bad, ugly or beautiful, everyone who comes must one day go; whether to their own home or to another world.”
Life turned his back on Death and said, “Then let them choose whether they want the empty illusion of Death or the joy of eternal life.”
Death said, “So be it.”
So Life raised his hand, and a delicate veil of fire stood suspended in his palm. Suddenly, the glow of that flame spread, drawing a circle on the ground. Death inscribed the spell of night in the four corners of the circle with his crescent blade. Suddenly, golden and silver lights merged, and both deities returned to their worlds.
The gate they built in the liminal world remained so that Life could expel souls from his realm and Death could bring them to his land. Every hundred years, Death would go there with his boat, and the souls would have to wait in silence for a century. Those who passed through the gate and entered Death’s realm would wander under the moonlight. Everyone said there was no purpose and that the end of life was wandering, but Death knew well that this wandering was necessary for them to find their essence. Death shouted in the wilderness of nothingness: “O travelers! Lost ones! You will see that it is destined for you to search in this land for something you could not find in your previous life. Seek the peace that lies only in wandering, so that what you deserve may be granted to you!”
