The Story of Daruma
By Claire and Alex
"What a cute little Daruma..." The old artisan said to his created masterpiece. He painted one eye in, "I wish that one day, a girl like this Daruma can exist in harmony, and live in freedom to the chaos of this world." He placed a light kiss to the top of the Daruma. "Goodnight, sweet Daruma." And with that, the artisan covered himself with a thin sheet, and drifted off into sleep.
Suddenly, the artisan felt warm, he kicked off the layer of cloth covering him. But then still he was feeling a bit uncomfortable. He got up to get a glass of water, when he noticed that it was too warm to be the colour changing season. Groggily, he opened his eyes, and noticed the orange hue in his small home. He started to panic as the sounds outside grew louder, the village was being raided. Not knowing what to do, he stashed the little Daruma doll in a small pack and frantically dashed out of the house.
Tired, and old, the artisan ran slow, and he heard horse steps closing in behind him. A sharp pain in his shoulder told him he was hit, he looked at the arrow head in front of him, and he collapsed on the ground. Crimson flooded around him, staining what little cloth he wore. Suddenly, the sounds of a horse were right above him, and the pack with the Daruma was lifted from under his dead arm.
"What the bloody hell is this?" A deep voice growled.
"Looks like a damn toy, take it though, leave no treasures untouched." Another equally deep voice snickered.
A sword drove into the old man's side... he remembered a charm his grandmother taught him, and he muttered it as he slowly slipped into the after life...
'Daruma doll, so small, so fine.
One eye painted, a wish was made upon you.
Small children gaze upon you and dream.
But you, small Daruma doll, when the other eye never is painted.
Who feels the sadness, the child who made the wish.
Or you, small Daruma doll.
Who couldn't make that dream come true.
So live on, small Daruma doll.
Live on in human skin.
Too walk for eternity.
Until that dream is fulfilled...
Small Daruma... doll...'
With that, the old man passed away... a smile on his wrinkled face as the charm was activated. As the horsemen rode away, with blood on their swords, the small Daruma fell from the arms of one of the men. "Oi, you're holding us up, get the damn toy and hurry your lard ass!"
The man dismounted his horse and advanced towards the Daruma doll. But suddenly, the Daruma grew, a mystical smoke surrounding it. The man collapsed on the ground and shuffled back, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. "It's... It's...!" He stuttered.
A small girl stepped from the smoke, stark naked, her eyes closed, and an unnatural hair colour tickled her ankles as she walked towards the man on the ground. "Hello, you killed daddy." She smiled, as a dis-formed scythe appeared in her hand. "And now, I'm going to kill you!" She giggled as she lopped off his head.
She opened her eyes at the other horsemen, who were already drawing their swords, "She's... SHE'S NOT HUMAN!" One man screamed in fear. He pointed at her eyes, one was white with a black circle and a small pupil, the other was just outlined in a deathly black. "A living... Da-" He was cut short, and when his head rolled to the ground, he could not speak no more.
And so was born the Reaper Daruma of the Sand.
