“

You have to feel the same sorrow as mine... No. You have to feel even worse than that. I will deliver you my pain on the tip of my blade. Your name is in the contract and I will fulfill it no matter the cost, for it is the only thing guiding my hand.

”

When the Prince entered the throne room, it was littered with over a dozen bodies of slain men. Their armor, once spotless and reflecting rays of light that were cast upon it by the distant sun, was now smeared in blood. In the center of the room , a man clothed in black was using a piece of expensive cloth, most likely taken from one of his victims, to wipe a rapier. 

“I see you made short work of the castle guard, Gavro”, said the Prince in a cheery tone, “I told them to train more, even instructed them to seek out Huco. Look at them now, laying there and hugging their guts as they spill on the carpet. Your power must truly be something else… Or is it, hm?”

He walked up to Gavro while talking and stopped about three steps away from him. Gavro watched his every move with an unyielding gaze, like a beast stalking its prey, ready to jump in and tear it apart.

“Gavro, don’t you think that borrowing power, even if it’s Death itself, is defeating the purpose of your quest? Don’t you think that you should defeat your foes with your power instead?”

“Such needless mockery”, thought Gavro, but it would have been unwise to get agitated now. His defenses, despite appearances, are tight and a careless attack would mean a swift defeat.

“Why come here, if you know so much”, asked Gavro, “Wouldn’t it be better to go and run, like you did when the Fungus surrounded your domain? When you ordered the capital of your duchy to be torched, I… The people were powerless and unable to resist the onslaught of your henchmen. Even if my current power is borrowed, it doesn’t mean I am an incompetent whelp who wouldn’t be able to fight you without it!”

“Is it so, well then.”, the Prince snapped his fingers, “Let’s see how you’ll do without it.”

A cold chill went through Gavro’s back. 

“You feel it, don’t you? This is what a simple isolation spell can do. You’re fighting a spellcaster, after all, so you should have been more prepared….”

The Prince’s spell did a good job of isolating the otherworldly power that Gavro had in him, however, it meant that the source of said power was forced to manifest in the material world. It wouldn’t have been a problem in most cases, as it’d usually only cause a spirit to be conjured and immediately destroyed by the rules of reality, making the source of power disintegrate into particles of mana. A Death, however, was a being of higher order, a being that stood above the rules of reality, a being that was the enforcer and maintainer of said rules.

Prince’s eyes started gleaming as something that looked like a dark cloud detached itself from Gavro. The cloud was partially transparent at first, but gained more mass each passing second. In a bit under ten seconds the tall thin figure made entirely of black energy materialized completely. One could not see its visage and its seemingly slender form was hidden from sight with a dark cloak. Its hand grasped a scythe of gigantic proportions with a firm grip.

“Ahahaha, I finally get to see one of your kind”, the Prince started to ramble like a madman, his eyes filled with a childlike curiosity, “After all the experiments I partook in, after all the reactions I tried involving souls, my hopes have been answered at long last!”

Seemingly having lost all interest in Gavro, the Prince turned to face the tall darkness. The creature didn’t speak and didn’t move, the reason for that was…

“We were not done here!”, Gavro took the opportunity and charged the Prince. The rapier’s blade sang as it penetrated the Prince’s upper body, right between the bones of the ribcage, through the lung, reaching the heart and the second lung. 

“Now… That you did this… How do you plan… To get her back?...”

With his last words uttered and his last breath taken, the Prince collapsed on the ground, joining the armored men whose lifeless skin had already turned snow-white. As the Prince’s body hit the ground, the tall figure started moving. It came to the body and waved its hand around it. Then, as if scoffing, it said:

“There’s no soul within this body.”

Gavro froze up, “What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said. The thing you killed wasn’t a person, but a soulless marionette. A creature crafter in a rather vile manner.”

“Wait, does this then mean that…”

“Yes, Gavro, your time is up and the requested soul has not been procured. As agreed before, I am to claim your soul instead. I am not happy with this outcome, but we will have to deal with it.”

The blade of the giant scythe started moving towards Gavro, but he couldn’t keep up. It was as if the blade moved in five directions at the same time at a speed no fighter could ever hope to achieve. Time froze for Gavro, as he thought about things he has done, his past, his present and his impending future.

“I…”

I was born into a family of craftsmen. My father would spend day after day working with various materials while my mother would mind the shop. Our family wasn’t rich, but we could make our ends meet. Father's craftsmanship was reasonably known throughout the province, so he got orders from the common folk, merchants and low nobility alike. With money not being too much of a problem, I was able to have a rather good youth when compared to many of my contemporaries. We lived happily and by the time I was four years of age, my little sister, Eileesha, was born.

Unlike the rest of the family, she wasn’t as healthy. She spent her first year and a bit fighting some unknown sickness. The money the family had to spend on various medications started to weigh through. By that point, it was normal for me to help out at the shop. All three of us worked day and night to procure enough funds.

Eileesha’s health improved considerably when she turned three, however, as if some kind of evil spell befell us all, the Empire itself started crumbling at the very same moment. Life became even harder for the majority of people, but we still managed. Our neighbors envied us, spread lies and slanderous rumors involving every member of the family. I could hear them whispering behind my back when I was sent on errands to the marketplace. 

“The mother is a witch, I saw her brewing her filthy potions.”  

“The father ain’t much better, I heard he was doing business with demons and is a cultist!”

“That little girl’s skin looks so bleak, she must be a banshee or a vampire.”

“What about the other kid? Don’t you see that he’s an imp in disguise?”

After a while, I couldn’t bear it anymore and punched one of the people slandering my family. From that moment I always came back from the market beaten up.

Things went downhill from there. Both father and mother got infected by the Fungus. We wondered how the infection could have reached us as we kept working every day. The longer the infection persisted, the weaker its victims became, people would lie on the ground drying as the purple growths would spread all across their bodies, releasing spores that would latch onto passerby’s clothes and infect them.

When I came home one day, all bloodied from a fight, I saw them. The soldiers of the Empire torched the buildings while the Empire mages and their apprentices were casting fire spells. Those who managed to get outside were immediately struck down by either sword or arrow. The smell was nauseating, the screams soul-piercing. I ran to where our workshop was and found it ablaze, along with the other houses in the vicinity.

When I saw the depths of despair, I couldn’t bring myself to face what happened at first. I tried to run from the pain by leaving the accursed city I lived in. I left everything I once took for granted. Yet, I couldn’t run. I had to face the fact that it was human cruelty that torched the city, that it was my cowardice that killed my sister and many other innocent people who weren’t yet touched by the plague. With this realization, came hatred. 

I embarked on an adventure of vengeance, wanting to find the one responsible for the massacre. I wanted to let my hatred lead me to the person whose actions inflicted wounds beyond healing to so many people, to look them in the eye. I imagined how I’d rip them apart, time after time after time, while I searched tirelessly for any clues of the cities’ nobility. 

Once months have passed, I heard of the mysterious Islands of Hope. Barely holding onto life, with my bodily functions almost giving up due to consistent malnutrition, I managed to enter the Islands as a refugee. 

By a streak of luck, I was chosen to become an apprentice of a minister, sir Finley Hoo. Master Hoo was a man of many talents, way more than what he made known to others, yet I was allowed to tap from his endless knowledge. Not only have I learned about the world and its inner structures, I also was able to use his connections to find the one responsible for the deaths in my hometown.

It turned out that it was the Prince himself. A savior and saint for one turned out to be yet another devil with his hands dirtied in the blood of innocents. All to save themselves under the pretense of saving others…

I understood that I couldn’t battle such evil alone, so I worked myself to the bone to establish the Black Hand, which at the time was nothing but a group of fledgling petty criminals, as a proper syndicate. With the knowledge and connections I obtained from studying with Master Hoo, I was able to make the syndicate own the most meat processing businesses in the Islands. The meat was, obviously, not just for sale, but was also used in occult rituals as we researched ancient powers.

In the pursuit of those powers, I went into the Moonlit Library. The Library held an inexhaustible amount of knowledge, but also was the house of many creatures beyond our understanding. In the halls of that wretched place, I found a trapped Death. Along with its trapped form, I found out that the soul of my sister still lingered somewhere and the Death might have been able to snatch it from the jaws of purgatory. Surprisingly, both of us wished the Prince to perish, so his death became our contract’s stamp. In return, I asked for the Death’s power, the recovery of my sister’s soul and alternation of my memory. This was supposed to get me on the right track, to make me fulfill my part. And yet, I failed.

I failed her once again. I could see the scythe’s blades approaching me. This is the end, isn’t it?

…

Or… Is it?

Did I go this far only to give up now? Am I really going to fail without even trying once again? Just like in my hometown… The amount of time I spent lamenting that moment, the hatred I felt towards myself, the bargains I made, the overwhelming hopelessness I felt.

No, that won’t go, I’m taking back what’s mine. I…

“I won’t surrender now!” The thought went through the entirety of my being at the speed of lightning as I charged the tall being instead of dodging its attacks. I knew I wouldn't be able to kill it, but as long as I didn’t surrender, it wouldn't be my loss. I extended my arm, holding firmly onto my trusty rapier, to deliver a strong attack.

I could hear four powerful strikes tear the stone floor behind me as if it was paper, the fifth one…

I saw my sword arm detach itself from my body. The fifth strike cleaved my arm right at the shoulder. The lost appendage, still gripping onto the weapon, got lost in the depths of the Death’s cloak.

“I didn’t think that a mere mortal like you would be able to get a hit at me when I’m at full power, I applaud your determination”, the Death seemed to be genuinely impressed, now slightly expelling some kind of black energy where the rapier had struck its body, “However, Gavro, this is it for you. Look at your arm, your soul is leaking into the world. My scythe needs but to slightly graze to capture a soul. It doesn’t matter if we go on or not, your soul is already mine.”

A strong feeling of nausea had taken over me and I was forced to stand on my knee. I could see a whitish light expelling from my shoulder instead of blood. 

“I… won’t… surrender”, I answered in a ragged voice.

“Of course you won’t”, said the Death, “but you don’t get to decide. You never really did. Throughout your life you have never made a choice of your own, never walked the path that didn’t lead towards the ruination coming from your past even when it was within your reach. The Islands gave you a chance and yet you chose to run after your vengeance. You deserve to rest within the Death’s Halls.”

My legs gave out under me as my feelings became numbed. I could barely feel any pain when my cheek hit the floor of the room. My eyelids grew heavier, breathing became harder and even more ragged. I could barely keep myself from slipping into the void of unconscious limbo.

“You did well, I’ll take over from here.” I could hear an icy and painfully recognisable voice. Something in its tone made me want to just… Depend on it. I could hear a soft clanking sound somewhere near me just before the blanket of darkness covered my field of vision.