Chapter 7

-Prince of Life-

I thought I was dead permanently, this time. I dreamt of Jack again, despite it being so long since I was murdered. The fear of that time has never really gone.

“Finally conscious? I have plenty of questions for you - your spirit explained some, but I want to hear your side.” Staring at the ceiling, I slowly manoeuvre myself up so that I’m in a sitting position, resting my back against the wall. A man is sitting against the wall across from me, one leg crossed neatly over the other. He has jet black hair, and a scar travelling directly through his right eye, starting above his eyebrow and ending in line with his lips.

“You’re the Lord of Death? You’re not as terrifying as everyone said,” I state. He looks rather relaxed, sitting there with a book in hand. He snaps the book shut, sighing. “Well today was meant to be my day off; the scary starts back tomorrow. Now, first question: what is your real name?”

Saying ‘Victoria’ feels wrong now, on so many levels. 

“Tevic. Just Vic is fine though.” Not technically my ‘real’ name but Tevic is what I told people while searching for Lisette. And Vic is close to Vickie, so…close enough.

“How old are you really, Vic?”

That’s a little complicated. “My body was 26 when I was murdered. I have been in this body for a decade now. The body is 25 years old, now.”

The Lord raises his eyebrows, letting out a whistle. “Being murdered doesn’t sound fun. I assume that’s where you sustained those scars from? The seven stab wounds?”

“Eight. He stabbed me eight times,” I correct. If the Lord saw me shirtless then he won’t have seen the second wound I was given - the one to my right thigh. 

“You must have made someone very angry,” he says relaxedly.

“Fuck you. I’m not talking about how I died. Ask me something else or get out,” I spit, feeling years of repressed anger bubbling in my gut. I’m not accepting any blame in my own murder. 

“You’re right. It must be a sensitive topic. Forgive me?” The Lord asks, looking genuine. This is…surprising. I half expected him to kill me for speaking back to him like that. If I ever said something like that to Jack then he would’ve most likely hit me or worse, and if I spoke to Agnaria like that…she would have instantly prattled to her father, who would have probably told me something horrific about how he murdered my parents.

“I don’t forgive and I definitely don’t forget. Just ask me another question.” Life has jaded me just one too many times now, unfortunately.

“Understandable. Well then…how about you explain your end of things; how you were led here, et cetera.”

The spirit of Life has been silent in my mind for this whole time, so I assume that it is off somewhere. It sounded like it had history with the Death spirit anyway. “The spirit of Life reincarnated me into Prince Hector’s body when he died. I lived his life for a while, and then our home was attacked. My- Hector’s - parents were killed and Lisette and I were separated. Agnaria wanted to marry me, which I found out when Hector turned 18. My father refused on my behalf, but I guess she must have still wanted me nonetheless. I was brought to her castle, where I remained for six years. I was never allowed to leave, even once. And then I escaped, thanks to the Life spirit, who led me to Lisette. The spirit said that since Fate is pissed at me for deviating from the path - by living - that apparently I needed to come here to be near Death, since Death and Life together will be more powerful than Fate, so I’ll be left alone,” I quickly summarise.

The Lord nods, uncrossing his legs and tapping his foot against the leg of his chair. “Interesting. Life mentioned to Death something about a man named Lyon? What can you tell me about that?”

I can’t trust this man. I can’t trust anyone, other than Lisette. 

I can’t trust what anyone says.

“How about we strike up a deal, Lord of Death? If you protect me and Lisette, then I shall tell you everything I know. Everything. Including how to get revenge against the king.”

His eyes narrow and his entire body stills. “How do you know about that?”

Truthfully, I don’t really know. I don’t know what happened, just that in the story, the villain wanted revenge against the royal family for something…Rachel may have known, but it’s been so long now since she told me about the story…

“Do we have a deal?” I push, the slash wound to my chest aching slightly. 

The Lord of Death sighs, nodding. “Alright, Prince of Life. Tell me more.”

—————

“So you mean to tell me that we’re all playing out our lives according to a book?” The Lord leans back in his seat, looking at me like I’m insane. I knew it was going to be a long shot, trying to get him to understand this, but still. I have to be honest.

“Yes. And the Lyon in this world has a soul from another world; I’m assuming mine but I really have no clue if there are more worlds, too,” I explain, wishing that I remembered more about Rachel’s favourite book. If only there was some way for me to look at my own memories again…

“I’ll believe you, if you can prove this claim. It’s too far-fetched otherwise, I’m afraid,” the Lord shrugs, crossing his legs again. Nodding, chew on my lips for a moment, thinking. “I need to remember everything I was told about the story. I never really paid all that much attention to what my friend told me about it, but surely- Life literally implanted Hector’s memories into my brain, so surely it can help me relive my memories or something?” I suggest, wishing that the spirit would talk to me again - alas it's too busy enjoying its time with Death.

“Hm…” The Lord taps his chin, stroking along his beard. Hector’s body hasn’t grown a beard all this time, which I’m disappointed about. I would love to have a beard. God I need to actually think about my gender at some point, I’ve been ignoring my thoughts for so long but I’m supposed to be living as me now. Not Victoria and not Hector.

So who am I?

“The spirit of Death might know more about that possibility. Let’s ask the spirits together,” the Lord offers, a small smile on his lips.

Why is he so different from everything I’d heard? He’s just a normal person.

“Why are there so many rumours about you? Apparently even the imperial family is scared to anger you. But you’re not at all aggressive or scary, I don’t get it,” I muse aloud. The Lord shakes his head, his smile never changing. “That’s just it, little lamb. They aren’t rumours. They are scared of my power and of the things I’ve done. Of the things I would do to them, if they made an enemy out of me. Everyone who enters my territory…well you’re all lambs. You’re a lamb and I’m…” he fades off, and I swallow, finishing his sentence for him. 

“You’re the slaughterhouse.”