Once upon a time, in a world far away from this one, and yet not so different, there lived a young girl of unsurpassed beauty and kindness. Everyone she met remembered her generosity, and all the people of the town in which she lived loved her very much, for her sweetness endeared her to their hearts.

This young girl was very much in love with a poor boy from the farthest outskirts of the town. Although he was lacking in riches, he was quite gentle, and his face was like the first flowers of the spring, delicate and radiant in every way. He loved the girl very much, and every day, when she came to visit him, he stood waiting for her at the gate to his cottage. She was the light of his world, and he of hers.

One day, the girl was walking along the streets of her town when, suddenly, she was approached by a hunched, stooped figure dressed all in black. The figure's face was hooded and hidden, and they walked with the aid of a long, straight staff.

"Good afternoon, my dear," the figure said, in the voice of an old woman.

"Why, good afternoon, ma'am," the girl greeted, smiling brightly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm so terribly sorry to bother you," the old woman croaked, "but I was wondering if you could escort me out to the river. You see, I am very old, and my bones are not as strong as they once were. If I were to fall on my way, I should have no one to catch me."

"I would be glad to help you, ma'am," the girl responded kindly. She took the woman gently by the arm, and together, they made their steady way through the streets and out of the town. The girl helped the old woman around rocks and down steep slopes, keeping her safe and steady until at last, they reached the banks of the clear and fast-flowing river. "May I do anything else to assist you?" the girl asked, letting go of the woman's arm and standing back.

The woman did not answer; instead, she stood up taller and straighter, stretching her height upwards toward the sky. No longer hunched, she stood head and shoulders above the girl, face completely shrouded in the black hood. Pale hands gripped the long, straight staff, which was now topped by a curved and wicked-looking blade. The girl gasped in fear as she realized that the figure she now stood beside was Death.

"I have come for your soul, little girl," Death told her in a calm voice.

The girl thought of the boy, who would be waiting for her at the gate this evening at sunset. As she imagined what he would do were she not to appear, her eyes filled with crystalline tears.

"Oh please," she begged Death, "do not steal my soul! I have yet so much to live for!"

Death chuckled, for he could see the reason behind the girl's plea. "I am afraid your flowers cannot save you now," he said quietly. "You are destined to come with me; I have had this set out for you for many years now. You cannot change it."

The girl bowed her head quietly, thinking her time had come, but then an idea occurred to her, and she looked Death in the eye.

"Please, O Lord of Death," she asked him, "would you consider taking my heart in the place of my soul? I know it is not much, but it is strong with my love, and I believe you would find it a suitable replacement if you would only allow me to stay with the one for whom I care the most."

Death stroked his chin, regarding the girl with curiosity. Never had he heard such a wise and gentle request before. He looked into the girl's heart, and saw that it was pure and her intentions were pure, her request made out of simple love for the poor boy of the village's edge. Intrigued by the girl's display of emotion, he agreed to the strange bargain. Using his long scythe, he cut a hole in the girl's chest, reached in, and wrapped icy fingers around her heart, which he drew from her. It glowed faintly with the energy of her love, and Death, an emotionless being, quickly locked it away in his treasure box lest the power of her love burn him.

Once the girl's heart had departed from her chest, she was filled by a cold, numb emptiness. The entire world seemed dimmer, and duller, as if some of the light had gone out of it.

"Enjoy the time you have left," Death said. "Remember, I will be back for the rest of you."

The girl nodded dumbly, and Death vanished in a swirl of inky darkness.

The girl walked slowly back into the village, feeling as if a leaden block weighed on each of her steps. It was past sunset when she finally reached the edge of the village. The boy stood waiting for her at his gate, the faint starlight and silver moonlight illuminating the worry on his face, which quickly changed to relief at the sight of her walking up the path toward him.

"You are here!" he cried, unlatching the gate and running down the path to wrap her in an embrace. "I had feared something terrible had befallen you, and I don't know how I should have gone on if that were so!"

The girl did not return his embrace, instead staring at him with impassive eyes. Startled, the boy drew back, an expression of pain flashing across his delicate features.

"Why, my heart, what has happened to you?" he asked gently. "You seem as though the very life has been sucked from your chest."

"I suppose that you may say that," the girl replied, "for on my way here, I encountered Death in the form of an old woman, and I helped him to the river, where he demanded I give him my soul. I refused, instead offering him my heart in exchange for an extended life to spend with the one I loved. But now that my heart is gone, I do not believe I can love any longer. I cannot feel anything, only a cold, hollow space."

The boy's face twisted in shock and horror. He knew that once Death made a bargain with a person, that bargain could not be broken; it was universally binding and thus, there was no escape. But looking into the face of his love, once so alight with joy and happiness, now empty of everything, dull and lifeless, his resolve strengthened, and he knew he had to try. He would win her heart back from Death, no matter what it took.

Knowing what he had to do, and not desiring to return and find the girl gone, the boy went out into his garden and collected several herbs which, when combined, would form a mixture that sent a person into a deep sleep. He crushed them into a powder, which he slipped into a cup of water that he brought for the girl. She instantly fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. The boy wasted no time in gathering his things, for he knew that to find Death, he must journey into the heart of the world beyond worlds. With a look of sadness, he bid his love farewell with one final kiss.

"I shall return with your heart," he promised her gently. "And we shall spend all of eternity and all the days after that together." Then the boy shouldered his pack, stood tall, and walked into the night.

The boy journeyed for many days, taking every road he could find that would lead him between the worlds. He saw many things, and encountered many people, none of whom turned out to be Death. The boy grew more and more miserable each day, beginning to be convinced that his quest was hopeless, and that he would never find Death or rescue his love's heart.

Finally, on the eleventh day of his journey, the boy was stopped in an alleyway by a thin, ragged-looking beggar man.

"Excuse me, son," the beggar rasped. "Would you happen to have some spare coin?"

The boy, being a gentle and good-natured soul, reached into his pack to find some coins. When he looked up again, coins in hand, he gasped. Standing before him was a tall and imposing figure, clad entirely in black, face shrouded by a hood, holding a long and menacing scythe. It was Death, and he regarded the boy with the same impassive stare with which he had met the girl's eyes.

"Boy," he said at last, in his calm, expressionless voice. "I know you seek me. I have been watching you for many days now. Tell me, and tell me truly: for what purpose do you seek the realm of Death? Speak carefully now, for I am sure you do not wish to end up there on terms that are not your own."

The boy looked Death squarely in the eye. "O Master of Fates," he said, "I tell you truly: I have come to bargain for the heart of my love, which she sold to you in exchange for a long life with me."

Death nodded slowly. "I remember that bargain," he replied. "She willingly gave me her heart. As such, she is bound by a universal contract. I cannot release her heart. It is done."

"What if I gave you something in exchange for her heart?" the boy asked boldly. "Could you then release it?"

Death stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I could," he conceded. "But it depends on what you have to offer me."

"What of my own heart?" the boy asked.

Death shook his head. "I do not want your heart," he told the boy. "The power of love burns me; I cannot stand the strength of its fire. Choose something else."

The boy thought carefully, and then he said, "What of my service to you as an apprentice? You will teach me your ways, and then, when you tire of ruling the Dominion of Fate, your role will pass on to me, and I shall wear the mantle of Death and wield your scythe."

Death was taken aback by the boy's offer. Never had he heard such a bold request. It again intrigued him, the power of these two youths' love. He looked into the boy's heart, and saw that it was pure and his intentions, too, were pure. Overwhelmed by curiosity, Death agreed to the boy's offer.

"You may have two years to spend with your love," he told the boy. "After that, I will come for you, and you will return with me to the Dominion of Fate, where I shall teach you my ways so that you may continue on after I grow tired."

The boy agreed to this readily, and Death took out his treasure box and handed it to the boy, who opened it to behold the heart of his love, still shining brightly with energy. He shut the box, thanked Death for his generosity, and set off across the worlds again, the box clutched tightly in his grasp.

The boy returned to find his love still in a deep sleep. Carefully, he removed her heart from Death's treasure box and placed it atop her chest. It sank slowly down, returning to her body with a gentle hum. The girl's eyelids flickered open, and when she saw the face of the boy staring down at her, anxiety filling his clear blue eyes, her own eyes filled with tears.

"You have rescued my heart, when I thought it lost forever," she whispered, holding back her sobs. "Truly, there is no one I love more than you."

"Hush, now," he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. "I am only doing what I am sure you would have done for me, for there is no one I love more than you, my dear flower."

The boy and the girl were married that selfsame month, and in the spring of the next year, a child was born to them; a beautiful daughter whom they named Marigold, for their favorite flower. They loved their daughter very much, and their life was a happy one, spent through the haze of warm, laughter-filled days and cool, peaceful nights.

At the end of the second year, however, there came a knock on the door of the cottage one day. The girl pulled it open, and gasped to find Death standing on their doorstep.

"I have come for my apprentice," he announced.

Sure that Death was mistaken, the girl ran outside to find the boy, who turned pale as he remembered the bargain he had made with Death. He tried to think of some way to escape it, but there was no way, for Death's contracts are binding and universal. Sadly, and with a heavy heart, the boy bid his wife and daughter goodbye, and was whisked away with Death to the Dominion of Fate.

The boy spent eleven months in the Dominion, training with Death and learning all his ways. Death was a hard master to the boy, and often he found himself longing for the company of his wife and of Marigold, whom he missed dearly. He dared not broach the subject with his master, however, lest the old phantom decide to destroy him rather than allowing him to continue training.

Finally, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month that the boy had spent with Death, he decided he could no longer stand it. Using the new powers that he had gained, he summoned a corridor made of pure darkness and entered it, emerging onto the lawn outside his own house. He called softly up to the house, his voice carrying through the still night that enveloped the land.

The door opened after a moment's pause, and the girl, his wife, peered out wide-eyed, wondering who could be there. When she saw her husband, her eyes filled with joyful tears, and she opened the door and began to run to him, crying his name over and over. Before she could reach his embrace, however, a look of horrible pain came over her face, and she staggered and dropped to the ground. The boy ran to her, filled with fear, and watched as she grew paler and paler. Blood spilled from her mouth, and her eyes rolled wildly. Finally, with one last sigh, she died and fell lifeless in his arms.

Grief-stricken, the boy held his love's body tightly, wondering what could have happened. At that precise moment, the voice of Death spoke from behind him, loud and commanding.

"This is the price you have earned for disobedience," the phantom rasped. "Did you think I would be merciful?"

His grief and rage overwhelming him, the boy turned on his master, calling his own scythe to his hand. Death chuckled at the boy's display. He was confident that a mere apprentice could not hope to best him, the master of Death for aeons now.

Death did not appreciate the power of love.

With a cry of anguish, the boy swung his scythe in an arc at his master, a blast of energy rolling from the blade to knock the old spirit back. Death, surprised, retaliated in kind, blowing his young apprentice from his feet to roll across the grass. The phantom glared at the boy, his hollow eye sockets cold and forbidding.

"Do not think to defy me further," Death warned the boy. "Stop this now, and come back to your training. I will still show some leniency to you."

The boy struggled to his feet, his eyes filled with pain. "I will never come back," he rasped. "You killed her. You took away the only bright spot in my life. I'd rather die than come back with you."

Death smiled grimly. "That may be arranged."

The boy flung himself at his master again, and they locked weapons, the scythes screeching off one another. The boy attempted to kick out at his master, but Death was nimbler than he seemed. The old spirit easily dodged the blow, then returned with a backhand that sent the boy reeling into the grass, bleeding from his mouth and nose, his eyes rolling.

Death stood over him, scythe poised at the boy's chest. I could kill him, the old phantom thought, but where would be the lesson in that? Just one more dead, and me less an apprentice. No, I think I'll teach him a lesson he's sure to remember.

Death plunged the tip of the scythe into the boy's chest. The boy immediately screamed in agony as the weapon entered his heart, and the thing shriveled up and died in an instant. After the pain had stopped, the boy lay huddled in the grass, his eyes hollow and blank.

"I have removed your heart," Death told him. "No longer will you be distracted by your love and wishing."

They were instantly returned to the Dominion of Fate by one of Death's own corridors of darkness. The boy remained still for a long time, trying to remember his love for the girl, but what Death had said was true. The boy's heart was gone, and nothing but a hollow, blank emptiness remained within him. Filled with this hollowness, the boy turned inside himself, becoming bitter. He relished with a meaningless savageness every instance at which he was allowed to reap the life of another, because it meant another love destroyed, as his had been. Everywhere the boy went, he left a pink hawthorn flower behind him, a symbol of his passing, which people eventually began to fear as bad luck. Bad omens, bad omens, they'd whisper. Lumaria flowers mean Death is near.