The Journey to The Pond of Souls

“It was a different time. Back when all these fizzling gadgets didn’t exist. Back when there were none of the clanking bells of industry to drown the songs of the animas. Back when there was magic in the world. That didn’t mean the world was any better. In fact, it was much worse. Most spirits were malevolent, evil creatures. Most magic was used for greed and anger. But, in that chaos and hell, she was born from fire with a face chiseled of dark bronze and a spirit forged from determination, she was brought into this world to serve, but she was never meant to. Kiya, a beggar, was thirteen years old when she made the journey.

Crouching in the corner of her home, she clutched the flimsy brown paper box to her skinny chest. She started to hear the dripping of rain and felt the cold wind against her skin. Just like her mother had told her to, Kiya rubbed her palms together to keep away the cold. The thatched roof above was already leaking, a common thing to happen to the houses in the slums. The small abode, grimey and dirty, was, in her eyes, a castle, a castle of which she was the new master. She didn’t want to be. She didn’t understand why she had to be. All she understood was that she had to make it to the Pond of Souls tonight. If it wasn’t tonight, then it would never happen, and Kiya would have failed.

As the moon shone a sickly yellow light onto the city, she set out, her bare feet padding on the wet cobblestone beneath them. She tries to be as quiet as possible, for there are all manner of dangers lurking in the shadows of the slums: evil spirits, rabid dogs, and, worst of all, humans. The humans of this city would seek to exploit her, molest her, and steal her box from her. She would never let that happen. So she crept through the trampled streets, hugging the shadows and the walls, keeping the package pressed against her bony ribs. Her mother would have protected her from all these dangers, but not anymore.

It was unfortunate that Kiya encountered Cripas, a lesser spirit of the underworld. He would prey on dull-minded humans, a wretched creature who feasts on flesh and stupidity. I hope you will never have to meet him. On that night, as she tiptoed through the sleeping streets, Kiya heard his voice come out of the dark. It sounded like rusted knives scraping against an old chalkboard, “Who is wandering about on Cripas’s streets?”

Kiya knew better than to ignore a spirit. She grit her teeth, trying not to be afraid, and said, “My name is Kiya. I am going to the Pond of Souls.” Then he emerged from the shadows, a lumbering scorpion the size of a large dog. As horrifying as the shiny exoskeleton was, Cripas’s face was something out of nightmares: attached to the scorpion body was the face of a smiling young boy, barely older than six, with only the white of his eyes visible in his eye sockets. The boy opened his mouth and Cripas spoke, “Kiya, poor girl, out on a mission. What’s in that little box of yours? Ahh, I’ll find out later when I eat you.”

Kiya’s knees shook as words tumbled out of her mouth, “You can’t eat me yet.” Cripas blinked at her.

“I suppose I can’t.” The thing about magic is that you must know that there are rules to it. Cripas began to climb a nearby post and, hanging from his dangerous tail, he slowly lowered himself to look down into Kiya’s eyes.

“If you answer my riddle, I will let you go. If you don’t, you will be Cripas’ midnight snack.”

Kiya nodded her head. What choice did she have? And so Cripas told her his riddle.

“I am a piece of cheese that no one can eat. I grow small and I grow large but I never rot. I travel farther than any traveler has but I never get lost. What am I?”

Kiya stood in the center of the street. She didn’t know the answer. It didn't make sense. A piece of cheese that no one can eat? How can a piece of cheese travel? Kiya looked up at Cripas who was smiling. He knew that he had gotten her.

“Come now, little girl. Tell me the answer,” said Cripas as he slowly began inching downwards to her face.

Kiya winced and struggled to think. What was it? Cheese? Travelers? Rot? Then, she remembered what her mother told her. How evil spirits are always tricky with their words. How they can say one thing and mean another.

Cripas’s pincers were inches away from Kiya’s eyes when Kiya shouted “The moon!” Cripas stopped.

His smile turned into a grimace and he said, “Clever girl. I suppose I won’t be eating you tonight.” Then he turned around and scampered away into the night. Kiya breathed a sigh of relief. She had won.

Thus, her journey continued. The night was getting darker and darker. The clouds started to cover the moon and Kiya’s pace quickened and she squeezed the box tighter. She must reach the Pond of Souls before dawn or it’ll have all been for nothing.

Just as she rounded the corner, she clambered into a huge hulking plate of metal. She fell down in the opposite direction. Standing in front of her was a watchman of the night, clad in iron-plated armor. She turned heel to run but felt a steel grip tight around her ankle.

“Where are you going little child?” said the man. Kiya could smell all kinds of intoxicants on his breath. Her mother had warned her about the men and what they do to women. There are things worse than being killed, she had said. Kiya wrestled and struggled but she could not break free of his grasp.

“Easy now. You’re in trouble aren’t you?” the man’s gruff voice said.

“Please. I need to go to the Pond of Souls.” Kiya yelled.

“The Pond of Souls? But you’re just a commoner? Where’s the...”, the watchman trailed away when he saw Kiya’s box. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Please, let me go. It is almost dawn.” Kiya had given up struggling, he was much too strong. The man reached for the box but Kiya quickly moved it away.

“Give me the box.”

“Please. I’ll give you anything else.”

“What do you have to give me, you little beggar?”

“Just not the box, please.”

The watchman breathed heavily. Kiya could tell he was thinking about something. His grip on her ankle tightened.

“I’ll take your thumb,” he growled. The fingers of children are worth a lot due to their ability to feed powerful devils. He took out a roguishly sharp dagger and Kiya whimpered.

“Wait. I’ll do it myself,” she said. She took the dagger from him and his grip on her ankle released. She held the dagger tightly, looking up into his soulless eyes. She wanted to plunge the dagger into his eye. To drive it in and then run as fast as she could. But he was faster, stronger and she had a mission.

She took a deep breath and sliced off the tip of her thumb, just below the nail. She cried out when it fell. Blood gushed from it and she held it to her tattered tunic. In seconds her tunic was soaked with it.

The guard picked up the dismembered finger and held it up high. He smiled and sheathed the dagger, not bothering to clean it. Without a second look at Kiya, he began walking away.

Kiya thought back to what her mother had taught her about bleeding. She undid some of the twine on the box and wrapped it around her thumb. She took a deep breath as the blood stopped flowing. Kiya felt faint as she started walking forward. The box had stains of blood on it. Kiya prayed that it would be alright as she plodded forward.

The houses began to get more sparse and Kiya began to feel the cool strokes of tufts of grass between her toes. Then… a tree! Then another. Soon there were trees all around her and there wasn’t slimy cobblestone under her feet but clayey mud that hugged her feet as they sunk into it. Though it was still dark, the moon cast enough light for Kia to see some colors of flowers on the ground.

Then she heard it, the roosters crow. That meant the sun was rising. She was late. She began to run. The forest was waking up around her. Animals, birds, insects, and spirits. She sprinted past trees and bushes. She vaulted over rocks and boulders. With each passing second, Kiya’s heart beat faster and harder. She had to make it before sunrise. She had to.

She could see the pond in the distance. It cast a faint glow from the rising sun.

“No. No!” Kiya shouted as she ran as fast as she could towards it. Then she made it to the edge. The golden sun burned bright across the whole pond. Kiya opened the box and her face was illuminated by the soul inside. Her mother’s soul.

It was glowing still but just barely, almost fizzled out from the sun. Tenderly, Kiya lifted it out of the box and held the glowing soul in her little palms.

“Please, let her rest,” Kia said as she placed it in the pond. As soon as it touched the water, hundreds of souls flocked to Kia’s hands to greet it. Kiya’s hands were completely in the water and the souls hugged her bleeding thumb. The wound slowly healed and closed.

Kiya’s mother, barely glowing earlier, was now shining bright with the other souls. They looked like they were smiling up at Kiya. Teardrops fell from Kiya’s eyes and joined the water. As the sun grew brighter, the souls slowly vanished into the pond, leaving Kiya alone by its edge.

Thus ends Kiya’s journey. Your grandmother’s journey. She, an orphaned beggar, was able to forge our family’s history. Only royalty may release the souls of their dead in the Pond of Souls but Kiya did it all the same. She may not have been born a Queen but she lived as one.

Now it is our turn to take her soul to the pond. Not the same journey as she had for her mother but an important one all the same. Where she took her mother in a tattered paper box, we take her in a casket of silver. There is little magic left in the world but enough that hopefully, Kiya will rest with her mother.”