❝ DEATH IS COMING.
BUT SHE DOESN'T FEAR HIM. ❞

For the people of Khaya's little village, living amidst the woods is quiet, and even more so it became since the creatures lurking in its shadows turned into mere fairytales. Little does Khaya know that the stories she loves to tell are true.

But then on a cold winter night, an odd priest and his young soldier appear in Lasow and bring with them the message of death. For Karachun, the God of Death is to revisit them, and when he leaves he won't do so alone.
While they are worshiped like saviors by the villagers Khaya cannot shake the feeling of mistrust in those mysterious strangers.

However, if their prophecy turns out correct she might get the chance to meet the one who took her most beloved years ago. And Khaya is not afraid to face him. Yet, she does not know what battling death himself means - nor what secrets can be revealed only in the deepest dark.

𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀 𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐀
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐕
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑

𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐍
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇

𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐃𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐀
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

❆          ❆          ❆

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐖
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒

𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐏

❆           ❆           ❆

Hello and welcome to What Death Cannot Touch, a story about loss and love, death and life, and the power of words.

This will be my first time taking part in the Open Novella Contest. And to make it even harder I decided to write in English, which isn't my first language. So this is definitely going to be interesting. Actually I'm a bit nervous posting this...

As you can probably see, this story will be loosely based on Slavic and some Jewish folklore, motifs and myths. Besides that, I went for a completely fictional world and places that are not supposed to be an exact representation of real ones.

Ever since starting Slaves of War, I wanted to create a story driven by the magic of fairytales, something living from the mystery of not understanding everything to its fullest. I already had so much fun creating the world and the characters with all its little symbolism (even if you may forgive my lack of creativity with some of the place names :'D). Also, this story has some deeper personal meaning to me.

The prompts I'm going for:

50. An attractive, mysterious stranger moves to your small town. While everyone is desperate to make an impression on them, only you notice something a bit odd about them.
60. Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

Disclaimer:
- As said, English is not my first language, and thus my writing is far from perfect.
- Obviously, this story touches on sensitive topics like death and grief. So be warned.
- I went mostly for pretty close-to-pronunciation spellings with the names, except for Majda who is supposed to be pronounced "My-duh". I just couldn't figure another way to spell the name that didn't feel wrong.

If you are interested, please consider voting, commenting, and adding the story to your library/reading list! As an ONC rookie, I appreciate any kind of support! <3