The nevii said nothing. But a moment later, the music began to draw closer. And then emerging from the shadows on the other side of the River of Fire and Poisons was a little girl dressed in bright blue robes she had been laid to rest in. It was Zeina, the general’s daughter, in the flesh and lovelier than she had ever been. The gold beads plaited into her braided hair shone more brightly than ever before. The flames of the River of Fire and Poison seemed to subside considerably with her presence as she stood only few paces away from them.
“It is my daughter,” the general whispered to himself, a very pleasant smile on his face.
“This is the moment you have been waiting for, general,” said the nevii.
The general knew what he had to do. He held up his sword and looked at the body of the horned demon below him. A single swing of his weapon separated the demon’s head from its body. All he had to do now was toss the demons head across the River of Fire and Poisons so that his daughter could be restored to him. If the head landed in the river, the demon would be destroyed forever, never to torment another human soul, but the general’s daughter would not be restored to him. It was an easy decision for the general to make. He swung the demon’s head and was about to toss it across the river when the nevii stopped him.
“Would you not speak first with your daughter, General?” the nevii asked.
“How do I cross the river?” the general asked of the nevii.
“Feed it a drop of the demon’s blood.”
The general placed the demon’s head on the ground. He pulled out his dagger and tossed it into the River of Fire and Poisons for it was already stained with the demon’s blood. The flames subsided even more now, and a bridge of stone appeared across the river, linking both ends. He was about to dash across the river to his daughter, but again the nevii stopped him.
“Wait, general,” the nevii demanded, “Only your daughter, an Undying, may cross the bridge of Fire and Poisons to come to you. You are a mortal and cannot cross the bridge.”
“Can she hear me?” the general asked the nevii.
“Speak to her, General. She will hear you.”
The general faced his daughter, who had placed her harp on the ground and was standing still, silently, and facing her father.
“Zeina?” the general called out, somewhat nervously, “It is me, your father.”
“It is good to see you again, Father,” Zeina responded in a sweet, gentle voice.
“Come, Zeina,” the general said stretching his arm. “Walk to me. I’ve come to take you home.”
“I can’t, Father.”
“Yes, you can. The demon is slain. I have his head. Your path home is here. So, let’s be on our way.”
“No, Father. You must make the journey home alone.”
“You mock me, little girl. Come across and let’s both be done with this place.”
“Father,” Zeina continued, a deep seriousness suddenly apparent in her voice, “What happened to me is in the past. Now we all must learn to live with it. You must let me go.”
“Stop this foolishness, child,” the general insisted somewhat impatiently and extended his arm even further as if it would reach his daughter. “Come home to me. Your aunts, uncles, your friends—they all miss you and love you, and they await you. I, your father, I await you. So, walk across the bridge and let’s be on our way.”
“Father,” said Zeina, a single tear drop rolling down her cheek, “You must listen to me,” She paused. “You are the best father anyone could have and I love you for it. But we cannot and should not change what is past. Death is bound to meet all. There were many more before me and many more will be after me. Our loss is great and our sorrow is deep but we must learn to let go of each other.”
“Zeina,” the general called weakly, his grief over the loss of his daughter starting anew, realizing it was no game she was playing.
“Father,” Zeina continued, “I remember all the times you kissed me in forehead while I slept and how you kept watch over me as I played with friends even though you thought I did not know. I remember how proud you were of the first doll I ever made and how you bragged about it to your friends even though you think I did not know. Our love for each other will remain strong even after I am gone.”
“But Zeina,” the general lamented, “This realm is no place for you. Death and misery are all that are here.” The general picked up the demon’s head and readied to toss it across the River of Fire and Poisons, ignoring the pleas from his daughter.
“Father,” Zeina continued to plead, “Toss the head into the River of Fire and Poisons and you will free a great many souls and mine, free to return to their maker. But I won’t be able to return to you, and the demon’s spirit will never again torment another. Toss the demon’s head across the river and you will free my soul and I will return to you. But know that the demon’s spirit will return to torment many a great many others.”
The general was silent, unsure of his next actions.
“What must I do?” the general asked the nevii. “I want my daughter back.”
“Only you can decide,” the nevii responded. “You must search your soul and do what you believe is right.”
The general was conflicted, a heavy burden weighing on him. To save daughter alone and get her back, or save countless others and his daughter, but not get her back.
“Father,” Zeina called, “Your grief will end with the passage of the moments. Cry if you must. Laugh if you
