I found the inn, and found my room. As it happened, a foxy, thin woman in elegant red dress and wavy, long brown hair was sitting at the bar. She was busy nibbling on a cherry stem, with a bowl of pits in front of her. I left my belongings in my room, locked the door, and went back downstairs to meet her.
She looked at me with disgust as I took my seat. "You're filthy, and you smell terrible," she groaned.
I nodded. "I was digging up my father, after a fort-night with horses and sailors."
I put a coin on the counter, and the innkeeper placed a meaded stein in front of me, apparently prepared in advance. The rest of the pub was empty. I sipped mine, and she sipped hers. Foam dribbled down my chin as I choked on it. She took her time to taste the honey and berries that the barrels boasted. I slowed down to find them myself. Her eyes were narrow, and her smile was warm.
I woke up in her room. My clothes were on the floor, and she was next to me. She must have brought her own silk sheets, which she was nestled into. The sheets in my room were practically patchwork. I could remember flashes of the night before, and groaned. At some point, I must have taken a bath, because I felt bare bereft of soil on my skin. I wasn't exactly clean, though. Sweat clung to me, and other smells much more pungent, yet pleasant. I felt a tingle with my chest filled. That was my first time kissing a woman, as well as the few things that happened next. Before I could leave, she put a pair of glass discs on copper wire to her eyes. She examined me, and said, "I can fix you."
"Excuse me?"
She explained how she'd managed to avoid the plague looking like royalty in a wretched patch of mud coastward. I noticed at that moment she was somewhat older than me, not as my parents had been but approaching fast. My heart sank with inadequacy, and she must have sensed it, because she frowned.
"You need confidence, and better manners. I can give you both. All I want back is your commitment – not to me, but to yourself."
I asked, "How long do you have?"
She said, "From what I heard, two more days."
"How are manners going to help me win a fight?"
She laughed, in a wicked way. Tucked in and mischevious. She told me to call her The Lady.

In two short days, The Lady taught me three main things:
1. Disease can be washed off with soap, which also keeps open sores from being infected. Sick people spread infection by touching things and leaving fluids behind, so always wash your hands when you get home and after using the outhouse.
2. Manners aren't just how you talk to people, as I was told – proper handling of food, dishes, and utensils can prevent you from getting sick from floorbound contamination. Proper etiquette demands that you inspect your food for signs of rot or sick, and that you wash your hands again to safely prepare every meal.
3. Every opponent has a weakness that can be preyed on, including you. The key is to acknowledge your weaknesses to grow stronger, rather than hiding from them. I had a strong mind to make up for my small frame, while The Blacksmith had a strong body to make up for his small mind.
"He seems plenty smart to me," I said.
"Aye," she nodded, "but only enough to recite what he's learned, not to question it. He seems obsessed with fairfolk."
"That, yeah. He thinks I'm a magic skeleton man with a silver tongue."
"Well, aren't you? We all have to be something at some point." She raised an eyebrow. "And your tongue is plenty magic to me."
She clung to me, and rubbed her nose on my neck. I was about to be late for a fight.
"Next time," I told her, "I have to go."
"Just remember what I told you: project strength at all times. Fear is a part of bravery, not a lack of it. And..." She let out a mildly annoyed sigh. "Oh, yes. He's got a wife, The Architect. Mention her, and he'll go ballistic."
I nodded, grabbed my pants, and left her room for my own to strap on my belts and tie my cloak.

I arrived at dawn, where The Blacksmith had challenged me. I wasn't planning to fight, and in fact, The Lady had spent the better part of last evening chasing me around the yard with a rapier to refine my "dodging arts". The rest of the night made me sore as well, but for other reasons. I couldn't tell if The Lady's love was a gift, or another training exercise.
I felt the ground shake as The Blacksmith approached. He was carrying his wife, The Architect, on his shoulders. She was blonde with parted bangs, and locks that hung to her neck and no further. She was smaller than I was, but taller, if that makes sense. Her eyes were grey, calculating, not unlike The Lady's blue.
Without giving him time to set her down, I said, "Hey, is that your wife? The Architect?"
He smiled, and I saw that he was missing two teeth. "Aye, so you've heard. My brilliant wife designed our town's bridges, and many of its buildings. She's a Goddess of Wisdom, and I am her Bastion of Power." He didn't go ballistic. The Lady's advice did seem a bit... untested, at times.
I thought for a moment about my manners. Then, I asked, "Does she know you intend to beat up a child?"
She frowns. "Honey, you told me you were fighting Death."
The Blacksmith nods. "Aye, this is he."
She says, "You said he was seven feet tall, with crows circling him in the sky, and a skull for a head with glowing red eyes."
The Blacksmith starts to sweat. "I er, uh... I may have exaggerated a bit, in excitement. To keep m'self psyched, y'know."
I took off my mask. "Actually, my eyes are green." I pushed my wavy chestnut brown bangs to the side.
She hopped off her husband's shoulder, came close to see me, and became upset. Her face turned red, and with tears in her eyes, she turned back to the man and pounded on his arm so hard he actually squealed.
She yelled, "You LIED to me, you big, dumb oaf! I'm NOT letting you hurt a CHILD, you'll EMBARRASS me!"
He whined, "Oh, he's hardly a child, lookitim! Young man's old enough to travel and drink, for Chrissakes. I was just tryna teach 'im a lesson, him goin' round in that mask of 'is to scare people."
I said calmly, "Actually, it's just for the people chucking rocks."
She protested, "No, you're coming home with me, I'm making YOU rebuild the PORCH!"
He stuttered, "But-"
She shrieked, "RIGHT NOW!!"
The Blacksmith was grabbed at the ear by her pincerous nails, and he turned slightly to ask, "Do I still have to build the pipes?"
I shrugged. "You might want to, I dunno. I don't really care. You guys could use some running water, though. You could bathe more."
The Architect yelled, "SEE? Why can't you be SMART, like THAT?" She dragged her man home, and he tut-tutted and owed the whole way. Everyone looked kind of uneasy.
The girl from before asked, "Does this mean we're all gonna die?"
I knelt down and handed her a bar of soap from my pocket. "Use this to wash your hands, a little at a time. You can get more soap from the general store. And uh, don't eat it. Do that, and you've got a better chance."
She rolls her eyes. "I know what soap is, I just can't buy any. I'm poor, mister."
I felt a sting of disrespect, but I let it roll off. "Well, this one's on me."
"Thanks," she said, disappointed.

I went back to the inn, looking for The Lady. All I found was a fancy paper note on her bare bed. It said:
You make a great student. I had fun teaching you. Don't forget what you've learned, and I won't forget you. - Signed, The Lady.
P.S. Are you sure you want to be The Grim Reaper?
I sighed, folded the note, and put it in my pocket. As to her question, I stood in the room and shrugged to myself. With or without the mask, a grim reaper is exactly what I already was.