Very rough outline

This is the very rough, just putting the ideas down in detailed notes, to the backstory for Moss from Where Roses Go To Die.

I am still picking away at the plot and character development to this story, as well as character appearance. I am changing a few things about how Moss looks and actually considering keeping him blind. I'm not sure yet though on that one, or maybe make some magical reason he got sight back, magical eye transplant or something lol. But here are the detailed notes I typed out when I got home.

This will eventually lead into Moss sorta going through changes during his training and evolution into a ghoul.

Story of Moss and how he became Death’s apprentice. Part of a traveling tribe of people, Moss was about 6 years old, always following his older brother and the other kids, who loved to ditch him. This time they had lead him to an old metal shipping container at the edge of the desert where his tribe was camping. They were attempting to settle the area and began to build huts, which angered the nearby village, who didn’t want filthy traveling witches near them.

Moss watched through a hole in the container as his brother ran off with the other kids, leaving him behind. He pushed at the door but it wouldn’t open. Little Moss began to cry but knew no one would hear from inside the shipping container.

He watched as his brother and the others disappeared over the sand dunes, and shortly after, there was a great light that streaked across the sky. It was blinding, literally. The light caused everything for little Moss to go white, then to nothing at all. A darkness so dark, that there was no name or measure for it.

A loud cracking sound splintered the air and with it came a whoosh of hot air that threw the container away with great force.

Moss was not sure hoe long he was “out” or how far he had been thrown. His ears were still ringing, his left side of his burned and felt cold at the same time, and there was nothing. He was blind.

Moss realized the container had broke and he was able to push his way out and began to crawl out into the world. He felt his way around and headed in the direction of what was serving as home at the time.

He fell, a lot. He realized as he got closer that the sand was harder, smooth in some places and sharp in others. The sand had become glass. He was not sure what had happened, what had turned his world inside out and why, but he knew he reached home when he felt the structure his uncle and father had been working on, what was to be their home.

It was still standing but where it was once wood now felt like stone. Where mud and straw once was, was now replaced with the same glass like texture the sand had become.

Moss called for his mother, father, aunt and uncle. He called for his cousins and even his brother, but no one answered.

Moss felt his way around until he found the bed where he last saw his mother. She was tired and feeling run down. She was tired a lot recently. There was much talk about buns and ovens but Moss didn’t know what that meant. He felt his little hands along what was once a soft blanket made of sheep’s wool, but was now brittle and hard. His little hand then found, bones. The boney hand of his mother.

What Moss couldn’t see was, everyone had petrified in place. Skin was turned to hard leather, sand and mud to glass, living creatures were now statues. This was the work of a powerful spell and modern workings. It was forbidden to combine the two things for such a purpose, but Moss didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know that the lord of the nearby village had ordered this genocide on his people. Moss was aware that people looked at them strangly or even treated them poorly as they traveled. It seemed people were kind to them long enough to get their fortunes told, or collect a potion or spell to help them, and the next day they would return to being predigice against the witchy travelers.

Moss had begun to learn his family’s magic but knew that without them, all he learned would go away.

As his hearing returned over what may have been days, or a week, he realized just how quiet it was. He couldn’t tell if it was night or day. He still couldn’t see and was sure his eyes were cooked inside his little skull. His face hurt, the one side especially.  Eventually he grew brave enough to feel with his hands, gently at first. His fingers traveled over his chin and touched teeth. His teeth were exposed to the air on the one side. He felt up and touched his exposed cheek bone. A good portion of his lower face was missing all it’s tissue. He wanted to try but nothing came.

He returned to curling up on the hardened bed besides his petrified mother. Curled up in her lap. Sometimes when he moved, he could feel or hear parts of her fall off.

He was starving, alone, and scared. That’s when the voice came to him.

“Well then. You are not one of mine.” She spoke softly.

Moss lifted his head to look, forgetting he had no sight.  “Who’s there?” his tiny voice cracked.

A cold, boney hand reached out from the darkness to gently touch his good side of his face. So cold.  He flinched.

“You have quite the will to live. I am here to collect your loved ones and take them home.”

Moss felt his heart leap into his throat. He felt hot tears stinging at his burnt out eyes.

“Are they all dead?” He squeaked.

“Yes my little one. All of them.”

“Am I dead?” He asked softly.

The woman laughed lightly. “No, you are very much alive, but not for long. You are starving, have an infection, and your little heart is breaking in your chest. I can, however, fix all of that.”

Moss found himself after a while, being cradled in the women’s arms on her lap as she explained herself. She could teach him all the magic of his ancestors, and then some. He would become very skilled and live a very long time. She explained though that the closer he became to her, the farther he would grow from knowing her true embrace. That he would over time become immune to many things, including her. He would become something else, something beyond human, but he would have all of eternity to learn all the skills he wanted, if he chose to come with her.

This is how Moss became the apprentice to Death herself.

He would eventually gain new eyes from the corps of wise man who saw a great many things. Although his face would remain in ruins on the one side, the other side would become handsome with age, but would fall into morbid beuity as he shifted from human to ghoul.

Despite all Moss endured, he kept a good sense of humor about him.

It was true that the closer he came to Death, the farther he would grow from knowing her true touch , until eventually they had to part ways. Moss was on his own once again, now grown into a man, or rather ghoul, and Death was off to her workings once again. On occasion they spoke to each other through the dead, using dieing human’s like messengers. But Moss was fine with never seeing her again, despite missing her so much. She was after all his mentor, his mother, his friend. But for the longest of time he had no desire to die. He had no want for it, until….