This, my dear child is the story of the Healer and the Gravekeeper, a story of our people and many other peoples around the world.

Shortly after the battle of Hogwarts, were the Lord of Many Souls was pushed beyond this realm, an epidemic broke through out many magical people of this world; the Elves of House, the Merpeople, Goblins and, us, the Creatures as well as many others. The Sickness plagued us all, only the humans remained unharmed.

The Sickness slept with us for six moons all the harsh winds of the winter till the very night of spring, when He came.

The Gravekeeper.

He was mean as sin and ugly as the dead around him. Our leader nearly killed him on site, after all he was shifting trough the bodies of our people. Ripping the skin from the dead and placing within his sac. Pulling eyes from there owners and dropping them in jars of liquid, a bird ripping and defiling our loved ones.

The arrow was taught on the bow ready to fly from our wise leaders hands! If it had streaked though that night, we would all have died of The Sickness.

However the arrow did not strike true, in fact it never tasted the wind at all. For the Gravekeeper had spoken to our leader, without turning from his gruesome task. His voice as silky as unicorn hair and as dark as the new moon.

"Do not be foolish. Would you rather see the dead given new purpose... or the living have no life?"

"What do you speak of? Stop your task, before my bolt makes your heart no more living then those you take from!"

The Gravekeeper simple stood and floated away, the echo of his voice falling on our leader's ears, an almost laughing sound.

"My wife will bring you the answer in a few days. Pray that no more die in that time..."

The insult the leader had placed on The Gravekeeper was high, as was the price of it. Many died, more horribly then those before them. Despair was in the air and our leader had no time to think of the strange bird he had found in the sea of bodies.

For you see dear one, our leader was dying. The Sickness had taken hold of his body and his soul was weakening its hold. It was then, on the day those of us still living thought we would loose our leader as well as our hope when The Gravekeeper's wife flowed into our village.

The Healer had come.

Her hair as wild as the wood, her faced filled with hope as she carried the heavy burden of our cure; she was the sun.

The Healer's magic worked within that morning. Men an inch close to death were pulled back, and healthy before the day was done. Our magic once again flowed smoothly, her hands filled with as much life as her husbands were death.

We showered her with gifts, she would have none of it, not one fruit nor gem. The only thing she took with her where a bottle of happy tears.

That my dear child is why is it a gift to see the horrid Gravekeeper. Shout with joy if he will take apart of your family with him. Give him all the gifts and treasure you own. For when he is gone, his love, The Healer will appear. She will give you something more then what you have given her husband.

Remember that dear child, death and life walk hand in hand and with The Gavekeeper you will always find, his wife, The Healer.