The afternoon sun beat down on the villagers as they worked in the fields of Bekdorf, tilling the soil with shovels and rakes. Johan, a wiry man in his early forties, cursed the heat under his breath, sweat staining his woolen shirt.

“Look on the bright side,” a gruff voice said from beside him, “better than working in the rain.”

Johan looked over at Balas, the heavyset man wearing his typical dreary frown as he worked.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind asking the Lady of the Rain for a little drizzle now and then,” Johan said good-naturedly.

He looked towards the village and saw his daughter, Johanna, running across the field towards him. The lanky teenager ran up and handed her father a water skin. He smiled gratefully and took several long swigs before handing it back to Johanna.

“Thanks, Jo,” he said and continued working with new vigor.

“Can I take a rest now?” the girl asked hopefully.

“You tired already?” Johan asked reprovingly.

Johanna groaned and complained, “my arms ache and it’s too hot!”

“And you’ll be hungry too if we don’t get our crops planted,” chided her father.

Johanna took a deep breath, took up her rake and set to work beside her father. As the two of them worked side by side beneath the baking sun, Johanna’s mind wandered. Eventually her trail of thought led her to ask, “Father, have you ever thought of marrying again?”

Her father laughed and came back with a surprisingly quick reply. “Nope.”

“But… aren’t you a little bit lonely?”

“Not really. I have plenty of friends and, most importantly, I have you, Jo.” He paused and smiled at Johanna, then continued. “When I meet your mother again in the Angels’ realm, I want to carry on from where we left off. Imagine how awkward it would be having to introduce my new wife to her. I’m happy to wait.”

Johanna smiled at her father’s words. After a short silence she said softly, “I wonder what my mother will be like.”

Her father looked over at her reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Jo, she’s wonderful… and she loved you. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

He broke off abruptly, staring into the sky with a look of terror. Johanna looked up and saw what appeared to be a man falling from the sky. She looked away almost immediately, shielding her eyes from the blinding rays of light that surrounded the figure. Her father fell to his knees and clasped his hands, Johanna and the other villagers doing likewise. In the sudden silence, the soft rustle of dirt heralded the man’s gentle landing. Johanna’s eyes were shut tight, her heart pounding.

As she heard the man’s soft footsteps approaching her, she cautiously opened her eyes. Before her stood a tall slender man, his whole body radiating light. She glanced up for a moment at his glowing face, his eyes burning bright as the sun. She lowered her gaze, her body shaking uncontrollably.

“Johanna,” the Angel said in a deep baritone, his face emotionless, “by the will of Heaven, you have been chosen as a Gravedigger.” He lifted an ornate shovel and held it out to the kneeling girl. “The curse of necromancy has long plagued this world. Your duty is to bury the dead and ensure that their eternal rest is not disturbed by the servants of darkness. Will you accept this duty?”

Johanna stared at the shovel in bewilderment, unable to muster a response. She stole a glance at her father, but he did not look up. Johanna looked back at the shovel and swallowed hard.

“Yes,” she squeaked hurriedly, “I accept.”

She waited a few moments, then slowly reached out and took the proffered item. As she grasped the shovel, blinding light filled her vision and a strange voice, speaking in a language she did not understand, echoed in her ears. As if waking from a dream the light faded and she was once again kneeling in the dirt. She looked up at the Angel, surprised to find that the light surrounding him seemed to have dimmed. She saw clearly that beneath the aura of light he wore the simple clothes of a common man; a white tunic, dark breeches and leather boots.

“Farewell, Johanna the Gravedigger,” the Angel said, his face and tone stony as ever. “Here begins your eternal duty.”

Without another word the Angel leaped into the air, a pair of huge white wings sprouting from his back and carrying him skyward. Johanna looked down at the shovel clutched in her hands, still struggling to make sense of what had happened. She looked up at her father, who knelt beside her with a proud smile.

“We are blessed,” he whispered joyfully, gently embracing Johanna. “To think that my own daughter has been chosen by the Angels is… more than anything I could have dreamed of!”

Johanna tried to smile back, but all she could feel was apprehension. She glanced over her shoulder, watching the Angel as he flew off into the distance.

Here begins your eternal duty.