“He spent the rest of the time with his family, and when the year came to an end, save for the time needed for the journey, he performed his ablutions, performed his prayers, and, carrying his burial shroud, began to bid his family good-bye. His sons hung around his neck, his daughters wept, and his wife wailed. Their mourning scared him, and he began to weep, as he embraced and kissed his children good-bye.”
When he regained composure and his tears dried, the merchant remembered he wanted to leave one last thing for his family before his inevitable death. “My family, I want you to know of what happened to the uncle and his nephew, a tale that you should all keep in mind in the wake of my perishing. Listen”:
One early morning, a man and his nephew headed out, as planned, to climb a faraway hill, in pursuit of a rare fruit that was rumored to grace it’s peak, and only it’s peak. This hill was not any hill, however. It took from dusk until dawn to fully ascend any given side of its dense and winding terrain; a full-day’s hike to the top. In addition, many large and ravenous birds inhabited the trees that lined the slope, posing as a threat to anyone who tried to complete the mission. There were people who attempted to do just this, however none of the trekkers made it out alive.
The uncle and his nephew arrived with immense preparation – ready to use their tactical and physical skill to get past the birds, and confident that they would succeed. As they made their way through the tall grasses, massive trees, and dense underbrush, the uncle and the nephew fought off dozens of swooping and ferocious birds, each one a closer call than the last. One even gnawed at the sleeve of the nephew’s coat.
Eventually they reached the top, exhausted and ready to discover the rare fruit beheld by this monstrous hill. It was right in front of them, an exotic-looking plant with spider leg branches. On each one was a small, marbled, green and red fruit, the size of a pea. They indulged until the sun set, and right as they settled in to rest, a strong wind picked up one of the large spider leg branches and impaled the nephew, taking his life instantly. The uncle mourned for days and days, contemplating the accident and wondering why.
Just like my coincidental and unfortunate brush with the demon’s son, resulting in my passing, the nephew’s fate was ill-starred. Everything happens for a reason, as all of the Creator’s threads are intertwined.
He said to them, “Children, this is God’s will and decree, for man was created to die.”
This tale is really interesting, since, instead of positing a meaningful reason for death or transformation, it suggests that death is *arbitrary*. This is not, perhaps, the dominant message of the Nights, but it makes me think of the Demon’s own son’s death–which this tale echoes, and which is as abrupt and sudden as the nephew’s death, here.