The Stars That Fall

THE YEAR 6345 OI (ODUNTI IKPE)

Yugi twitched as he removed some of the snow with his boots, revealing a slash across the neck and bones protruding from its sides. His stomach turned, threatening vomit to his lips; he pushed the body to its side, and a whiff of iron and sulfur brushed past his nose.

 

This body was wingless, so it was a sanya it seemed, and not an aingeal as Yugi had originally thought.

Sanyas were creatures of the Seventh Rank of Ịtoba, made of dirt and clay, unlike the meyhres, who were made of water, or the malakim, who were forged of wind or fire. 

Though to the Council and the Asayli, they were affectionately referred to as ardhi, the rest of Ịtoba despised the sanyas: these little wingless aingeals were mortals—bodies of flesh that happened to live long lives. 

But this sanya was a child. A young girl, perhaps not much older than twenty years, lay in the snow with her beautiful and impeccable green eyes wide and glossy, and golden curls that hung to her shoulders. Dead.

He didn’t expect to come across a body—he had no reason to, but something was happening. Something was wrong. 

Sanyas didn’t just die. They lived for centuries, kept hidden in the deeper forests of the Kalér and Kekere-Daun Kingdoms. To see one here—dead … Yugi swallowed.

Many eons ago, on a night just like this one, when the wars had threatened to tear apart the realms, he’d been called to his first Reaping. It was a young girl just like this one, but she wasn’t a sanya. 

She’d recently developed wings, wet and sparkling, despite them shredded from the bones as he cradled the dying girl in his arms. The nightmare had forever haunted him. Yugi had watched her die, failed to even harvest her soul because he was too drenched with emotions to properly wield his sẹda.

But now he was older, and things were different.

Yugi rolled the body on its stomach, and more slashes formed on her bare back as though the person who’d done this was searching for wings. He stooped closer to the body and scooped it up in his arms, her skin cold and frozen, but a bit of energy flickered from her. No one came to harvest her soul. 

Another round of cold wind brushed against his skin as he draped her head over his shoulders and let the rest of her dangle against his side. 

He’d heard stories of long ago, before Reapers existed, how uncollected souls usually merged with the energies around, but then there were stories of the erạnykas, creatures of darkness made from the wandering souls of long-dead meyhres who wished for nothing more than to rejoin life in any way they could. Even if it meant to live forever trapped within a rotting body, to forever feed on baharikes and young malakim. 

But erạnykas lived in the darkest and deepest parts of the ocean, and so the celestials who lived above water didn’t have to fear the undead creatures. Yugi still wondered though, if a body like this one would somehow transform into the walking dead and haunt those who lived on land. 

He draped the body over his shoulder and looked around. Miles of snow stretched in all directions, not a single light to be seen, save the moonless sky filled with stars, and he stared at them for a while, his heart slamming against his chest like ocean tides against a rocky cliff. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was transport a body to the clinic, but someone’s daughter was missing. The best he could do for now was issue a notice, clean up this body, and allow the family to have a proper burial. At least this one was still intact.

 

Earlier, he’d found chunks of flesh strung out across the snow, most of them frozen into a solid rock, and he’d been forced to leave them there. But … he couldn’t leave this one, not when he was reminded so much of his first Reaping, and the young girl who’d struggled to take in breath after breath: the girl who’d fought to live, but whose soul was never heard. Perhaps this one had also lost her voice to the wind, and with no Reaper to harvest her dying breath, there was no memory to take to Collections, to be woven into the Tapestry.

Tears sprung to his eyes, threatening to fall as he nestled his chin into her soft, golden hair, then he pushed his wings out against the bleak night. The lower portion was already paling, which meant dawn would soon break. Yugi rose his wings and launched himself into the sky.