Tasìa stepped on a pebbled walkway. The rounded stones gleamed with a pinkish hue. They were warm and comfortably smooth to the touch. As Tasìa studied the path ahead of her, upon sighting the giant skeletal statues of the Nephilim that lined the walkway, she realized where she was right away.

For her Cathar Anewed Elders, the Valley of the Shadow of Death wasn't a mere metaphor for the touch of death on the lives of men. It was a real place of substance that could only be seen and felt if one meditated, if one consumed ayahuasca, if one lowered one's heartbeat to twenty beats per minute, if one overcame and suppressed all physical ills that accompanied ayahuasca consumption, then one could pass through the Valley and gain spiritual ascendance.

Tasìa had done none of those things, except perhaps her lowered heart rate, so she reasoned, this must be a most lucid dream.

Modality, are you with me still?

- I am.

Do you see what I see?

- That I do.

What should I do?

- Is there not a path ahead of you?

Well, yes.

- Then take it.

Tasìa strode forth until she reached a space between two Nephilim skeletons. The pebbles spread out into a circle in between the monumental bases that entrapped the ancient beings before the smooth stones formed once more into a continued pathway.

As Tasìa glanced up at the statue to her left, its skeletal grin contorted into an angry sneer.

"Oh, what have I done to displease you, Masters of Old?"

Tasìa inquired.

"You reek of meat. We enslaved your species and took from you your hunt for game. We put you in the fields to harvest Bean and Grain. That is all that is allowed of a slave."

Tasia lifted her chin, defiant.

"I was born of the Cathar Anewed. We do not partake of the bean. We are free of you."

"You defy?"

"For the entirety of my life, and thus so, ever more."

"Then you shall take up arms to defend yourself."

Tasìa recognized this as a small admittance of honor. The Nephilim took all of man's weapons from him except for the tools of the Harvest; hence from the shadows that currently surrounded her, three mummies, emmiciated and wrapped in the rags of peasants, approached her with scythes in hand.

The Nephilim to her left reached into its side belt and tossed her a long, curved sickle. It bounced off the pebbles and landed at her feet. A second sickle did likewise to her right.

"Pick those up and defend yourself, Lady Defiant."

Tasìa nodded and did as she was commanded. She did not care for the balance of the weapons selected for her. She took several swipes in the air surrounding her to test them.

Indeed, they were designed only to be efficient in their downward sweeping arc as they were used for cutting grain. Every other variation of thrust and sweep was near-impossibly awkward.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The mummies now glanced at each other; their heads jerked side to side. Tasìa raised her sickles, crossed together, to defend herself.

So unbalanced were they for such an upcast maneuver that she had to pull the sickles in against her breast and thrust straight upward to make her defensive position feasible.

The sickle blades curled out from her torso like the legs of a dung beetle. She held the blades locked in place.

To defeat the three who leered menacingly before her, she could not swing the sickles with her arms. Her body was now the twin blade's handle.

The three mummies yelled out a gutteral cry.

They came at her as one with scythes raised high over her head, and in unison they swept from her right shoulder to her left foot.

Tasìa stepped inside and caught the three scythes at the bottom of their hooks with the curve of her left blade.

She intended to force them to let go, but to her surprise, not only did they keep hold of their blades, but all three were thrown down against the pebbled ring.

Whatever heft the three scythe-bearers possessed in life, they sorely lacked it in their undead afterlife.

The three scrambled back up and separated. One stood before her, and the other two circled behind her.

The tactic was blatant. She watched the blade theatrics in front of her while she listened for the fall of pebbles behind her.

When the mummy before her motioned for her to approach, the pebbles crunched ever so slightly behind her. Tasìa thrust up in a jump.

The first mummy passed beneath her, its blade sweeping from left to right. As she flipped at the apex of her leap for greater momentum on her descent, the second mummy was centered beneath her. Its blade swung from right to left.

It made the mistake of stopping in place in an attempt to catch her in mid-fall. Tasìa, however, was too quick. She caught the mummy at the nape of its neck in mid-descent and cut into it where the twin blades met in a crescent.

With the momentum of her airborne descent, she forced the mummy to the ground. When the mummy's torso smacked against the pebbles, the blades sheered through.

The mummy's head bounced and rolled until it smacked against the boot of the mummy that faced her.

The one that stood before her let out a sound of revulsion, and smacked the flat side of its scythe against its chest as it commanded its companion.

The other remaining mummy bull rushed her. Tasìa had little time and space to defend against the attack, but even as she rolled out of the way, she let go of the sickles, grabbed the decapitated mummy's scythe, and swept the blade low across the bullrusher's feet.

The mummy slammed into the pebbles; its two severed feet spun off in opposite directions.

She had no time for an assessment.

The shimmer of pebbles not only tipped her off to the coming attack from behind her but also that the remaining mummy had maneuvered to her left.

She grabbed the scythe pole from just underneath the blade before she thrust the pole backwards at an angle that caught the mummy in its chest with a satisfying crunch.

Without a natural human's heft, the mummy was sent reeling to the ground.

The scythe she now bore was well balanced. Tasìa gripped it at the pole's center and swung it around and up. She spun around, and with one deft stroke, she split the mummy in two halves.

Before continuing down the path, she finished off the footless mummy likewise.

Tasìa ignored the mockery of the Nephilim, whose statues lined the concourse. Finally, she approached the next circle of pebbles. A brew pot sat centered on an horno brick oven. A ceramic bowl and laddle lay atop the brick in front of a stone bench.

A living flame raged within the oven. She could see through the perforated surface the flame as it danced about like a rabid and feral elemental.

Tasìa winced at the repugnant smell that was anathema to her and her people. Inside the brew pot, pinto beans boiled.

The aroma made her feel nauseous and weak.

A mummy who stood by a gong walked over to the pot, took hold of the ladle, and filled the bowl with beans.

It returned to its place by the gong.

The Nephilim to her right commanded

"Sit!"

Tasìa winced and shook her head in revulsion at the thought of sitting with the vile bowl in front of her.

"Look around you, Lady Defiant."

Tasìa gazed out past the pebbled pathway into the darkness. When she could finally see, she gasped.

Thousands of mummies in tattered peasant clothes were gathered in harvest in the near distance, where fields rolled. With sickles and scythes, they reaped the wheat.

"You can choose to partake in the meal we offer, and, once properly satiated and back into the mindset of servitude, join in the Harvest.

"Or, you may defy us once more for the last time and follow that path onward, past the Dark Gate, where your soul shall be consumed for all eternity.

"Which shall it be, Lady Defiant?"

Tasìa walked up to the stone bench.

The Nephilim prodded her once more.

"Sit."

With a rigid frown on her puss, Tasìa shook her head, violently.

"Never!"

She grabbed the bowl in both hands and threw it at the gong, where it shattered.

The mummy beside it disintegrated. The Nephilim shrieked out, shrill and loud. A wailing arose from the peasants at harvest.

The very ground quaked