Waves brushed against the rounded pebbles on the soft sand near a small jetty where fishing boats docked. A girl in ragged clothes watched as the lean men strained against the current to rope their poorly crafted vessel to the small wooden stage they built.

The girl sat right where the water flowed in a gentle, foamy current against her dirty trousers, but stopped before it reached her hips. She watched the waves lapping against the fishermen's boat in a lulling motion.

She closed her eyes and willed for the waves to still; one of the men unloading the meager amount of fish they caught was her great-grandson.

She watched as the fishermen stopped struggling and looked stunned at the calm waters surrounding them. Not a single wave rippled in the vast expanse of water as far as the eye could see. Their awe lasted for a moment; their tedious, harsh lives stole away the light feeling of childish wonder and replaced it with the sour taste of responsibility.

Her great-grandchild ended up carrying most of the load, and she watched him from a distance, carrying four fish in the large, frayed net to feed his family. The other two men carried two fish each in their hands; they had split their catch according to family size.

She slowly lay herself down onto the soft sand of the island and closed her eyes. When she awoke once more, she saw flames encircling the perimeter of her body.

Red flames.

Orange flames.

Yellow flames.

One cloaked figure.

She kept her eyes open, but she kept her back flat against the damp sand beneath her. The tide was now rolling in with a harsher force and soaked almost the entirety of her body, but the flames kept flickering, even as the water rolled past the base of the tongues of flames.

The figure took off its hood, revealing soft black hair and slitted eyes. She knew who he was, and she was not remotely happy about the identity of her visitor. She got up and slightly bowed her head in respect before she spoke, "To what do I owe the pleasure, Death?"

"The girl, Raven, has escaped my palace. You will watch over her until I deem her ready for capture. I would like a daily report on her every movement."

"You're assuming she's traveling by sea?"

Death looked away from her. "She will eventually have to cross the sea, of that I am sure."

"So you would like daily reports of what she does only when she's traveling over sea?"

"Yes."

Mazu closed her eyes and laid back done on the sand, flames no longer surrounding her body. "And why should I complete this favor?"

Death looked back at her. "Your daughter, Diah, has had thirteen children with Ghazi the Conqueror. I'm sure you're aware of this."

"I'm fully aware of my family's affairs. But why is this your business?"

"Raven is set to free your grandchild, Jahro, from the Cave of Voices."

Mazu snorted, "Then I should give her my thanks and send gentle waves her way."

"Oh, but would you say the same thing if you knew I was her father?"

Time stilled. Mazu's eyes flicked wide open.

"What?"

"I thought the same thing when the memory struck me. She told me, the day she escaped, that her birth name was Margaret Stephenson. I remember her mother, a poor lady, but one of the two women in my entire existence that I had met that was not afraid of me. I remember when I came to take away her mother, she looked at me and smiled. That was the second time I had felt love, Mazu, and once you feel it, it leaves you craving for more. So I disobeyed the Norns. I wanted to experience a life of my own, and for the first time in a long time, I had hope that I could.

"But I was wrong.

"The Norns took my love away, and Life took back her soul, meaning she couldn't even join me in the Gardens of Death. But that wasn't even the worst part. Life taunted me with my wife's last act. My love died giving birth to a worthless, pathetic girl, that, for some reason, she loved. And even though she left this world," he said, gesturing to sand beneath him, "she couldn't join me in the next."

His eyes hardened, and he looked at Mazu once more. "You asked why you should help me. My daughter, Margaret, consorts with the very same creature that took my love away. She will do the same to Diah's children. Your family isn't safe from her wrath; mine wasn't.

"At least when I take away a soul, you know it was because it was their time. It isn't Jahro's time yet Mazu. But Life doesn't care; she can take back the gift she gave – it is within her power to do so.

"You have every right to decline and finish our already existing agreement and be on your way. But will it be worth it, if you have no family left to go back to? Even immortals need love, whether it be from pathetic, weak mortals or not."

Mazu took calming breaths, in, and out. In, and out. In, and out.

"How do I know you're not lying to me?"

"You don't. Unless you find the Norns yourself, but that's a much larger task than the one I'm requesting you to undertake."

Mazu sighed and turned her head towards Death. "My mother always told me to choose my battles. Choose battles you know you can win, and others you know you will lose. Celebrate your wins, and learn from your losses. Tell me Death, is this a battle I will learn from, or one I will celebrate?"

"With your help, and hopefully Pachamama's, expect a celebration, but it's always wise to prepare for a loss."

Mazu closed her eyes. "Did you know Ghazi was murdered? Were you there to take him? His soul?"

Death closed his eyes. "Yes."

"Diah cried for days after his death. She wouldn't eat or sleep, and I had to watch as my daughter and her children were thrown into the cruelest places prisoners have ever found themselves in."

She took a deep breath of the salt-tinged air, and continued.

"I felt my daughter's last breath. I could feel the salt-stains on her cheeks as she died. I don't know why I put myself through the torture of seeing my children die. But I do. Diah was not the first child of mine that has died, nor will she be the last. But she was so strong, Death. I remember her birth, and how she wrestled out of my womb. I remember when she told me, her mother, the Goddess of the Sea, that the only fear she couldn't face was the water. Was me.

"But even so, I helped her conquer that as well. And when she told me about the arrogant man named Ghazi that insinuated disgusting things about her, I remember her anger, Death. I remember her telling me that one of their necks was going to be slit the next day, and it didn't matter whether it was his or hers. Whether he or she died, Diah at least knew she would gain honor no matter the outcome.

"Luckily neither of them died, and as we both know, they ended up starting a family together. But that fiasco marked the first time I felt fear for her, Death. It would not be the last, oh far from it. But I feared you, Death. An immortal goddess feared Death, something even her mortal daughter didn't.

"She taught me to be brave. I will always remember my daughter as the fearless warrior that she was. She entrusted her children to me, their last living relative, and I have been able to protect twelve of them, on the sea where they belong. But her last child, Jahro, has been stuck in a cave for the past eight years.

I would do anything to get him back."

Death smiled and stretched his hand out to envelope her own. "My primary goal is to help get my revenge, and to keep your family safe from harm."

"I don't trust you or the statement you just made, but if what you say is correct, we will need each other to pursue our own interests."

They shook hands, and a rope made of bones, and a string made of water wrapped around their clasped hands, and golden light shown from the joints between the bones and the shallow depths of the water.

One second Mazu was holding his wiry hands in hers, and then next her hand was grasping for thin air. The cloaked figure and his fire had left her in the clearing of sand, and in his wake, a pair of crossbones and a skull with flowing hair stood etched into the soft sand. The sign of a pirate flag.

Not just any pirate flag.

Her grandchildren's pirate flag.

Mazu swallowed the bile that was rising up her throat, and she squeezed her eyes and wished for the rising tears to go away and make someone else sad.

Her plate was heavy enough.