Hello Me

The courtyard was long and wide. Almost a warship's length and width. Silver trees with red blossoms bloomed in two rows, lining either side of the square. In the center of the courtyard, a long line of wooden pyres was built, where bodies in armor and camouflage fatigues lay. There were hundreds of them, with one higher than the rest in the center.

The vagabonds all stood together in the middle of the crowd. Some people were soldiers, others clearly family members, dawned in black. General Tygo slowly came forward, another soldier with a torch trailing behind her. Rachel watched as the giant warrior climbed the ladder to the top of the tallest pyre. At the top, she gently laid some items onto her son’s chest.

A slight pressure caught Rachel’s attention, and she looked over to see Zyhara had grabbed her hand. She squeezed it back as the Princess leaned in. Up ahead, General Tygo tilted downward and kissed Mathew’s forehead. She held out her hand, and the soldier handed her the torch.

Zyhara silently gasped as the general buried the torch into the alcove of the pyre. She then retreated from her son’s final resting place, returning to the formation. As she stomped forward, her black cloak lined with gold gently billowed in the air, revealing her magnificent silver war plate beneath. Her long, curly red hair flapping in the wind.

Zyhara looked at Rachel, who nodded. The Princess slowly walked forward as Rachel grabbed a torch from a soldier. As they slowly walked forward, time seemed to slow. Rachel could see the red blossoms gently flow through the air, mixing with the embers of the burning pyre. They reached their destination.

Professor Abraham lay on a wooden pyre, his body neatly put together, a silver blanket covering him from the chest down, his hands folded on his chest, his bushy white beard and long hair washed and neatly tucked behind his head.

Zyhara held out her hand, and Rachel handed her the torch.

“Goodbye, dear friend,” Zyhara choked.

Rachel studied her. The girl seemed a little older than yesterday, maybe seventeen. Her beautiful hair was neatly tucked behind her shoulders, tiny freckles of gold lining her cheeks, her silver eyes framed by gold eyeliner, her dark shoulders and arms graced by the gold leaves painted unto the skin that her black dress with silver trim showed.

Professor Abraham’s pyre slowly caught fire. Zyhara and Rachel retreated. As they walked back, Rachel recognized King Alexander and his knights standing on the far side of the crowd. They all wore their ceremonial armor, their families behind them, bowed heads. The King slowly came forward, one of his bodyguards following with a torch.

The vast majority of the pyres housed warriors in old, battered armor. As Rachel walked, she noticed something strange. The shields of the standing Talaborians no longer bore any house sigils, symbols, or heraldry. They all were black, with a blue crow-like bird. No, a raven.

The King lit his pyre and walked back. He and Rachel exchanged a passing look, and she saw the haunting sorrow in the King’s face. His beard trembled, his eyes pinched, his body hunched. She felt pity for him; no one knew what he felt better than her. They were the same now, warriors with no home, trying to keep what was left of their loved ones alive.

As the pyres burned, women in pitch black cloaks emerged from the crowd. They held burning branches in one hand; they had a silver dagger in the other. As they sang, each torch-bearing member of the group marched forward. They began singing a beautiful, haunting chorus that pierced the souls of everyone who listened.

After each pyre was lit, the crowd regathered and stood as one as the red blossoms and embers rose into the evening sky. The moons hung in the air above, stars twinkling, the city glistening in the distance. The courtyard they resided in belonged to a hilltop temple, where tradition bid the warriors of Armenium laid their dead to rest.

Once the ceremony was complete, the crowd began to slowly disperse. Rachel and Zyhara slowly walked over to King Alexander. As they approached, the King noticed them, profoundly bowing.

“My ladies,” He said staunchly.

Zyhara raised her hand, darkly smiling.

“We are all equals here, your majesty. We are both rulers without a Kingdom.”

Alexander sighed, his eyes twinkling.

“My deepest apologies. I cannot say I fully understand any of this; this world of sorcery is beyond our comprehension. But my heart bleeds with yours.”

“Is there anything your people need?” Zyhara asked.

King Alexander shook his head.

“We are treated exceptionally well. The warriors of this world are kind and treat us with respect. We had thought this was Zion, and they did not take kindly to that,” He chortled.

“We probably should have mentioned there's a lot of worlds like this,” Rachel sighed.

Alexander shook his head.

“My people are strong; I would not have traded Talabor for any other world. My only hope is that we may return there.”

“Once this war is over, and your people are not in jeopardy, we will help you reclaim Talabor. Your people will rebuild and rise even stronger than you were before,” Zyhara said.

“Thank you, my lady. If you would be so kind, I would like a word with the shield maiden of Zion.”

Zyhara smiled and nodded.

“I’ll be back in my chambers if you need me,” Zyhara said as she walked away.

Rachel and King Alexander looked at each other. She sighed.

“When I was about as young as the Princess looks, I joined the military. Served a few years, then Zion came. They warned us of impending doom, but we didn’t listen. We lost everything, everyone. I know what it’s like to lose your world,” Rachel sighed.

Alexander nodded.

“I could see the pain in your eyes before, I knew not from whence it came. But now we share this burden. If I may ask my lady, where are your people now? How long did it take you to reclaim your world?”

Rachel grimaced, shaking her head.

“I’m the last one. My world is gone.”

Alexander sighed.

“Then, with a happy heart, I offer Talabor,” he smiled.

Rachel arched an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“This war, like all wars, will end. And when it does, where will you go?”

Rachel chuckled.

“Pack my bags and off to the next mission, I guess. There is always someone to fight, some world that needs saving.”

“You led the charge into the fiery smoke. Had you not stopped my host, we surely would have been slaughtered. My knights remember seeing you rise above the fray, your wings and arrows slaying many a foe. We would like you to rest on Talabor. Make your hearth on our world; our home will be your home. The knights of Talabor are sworn to your service.”

“Is that why there’s a raven on all your shields now?”

“We are honored to bear the sign of the goddess of war,” Alexander smiled.

Rachel didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. She had always wanted to be a knight, seeing the castles and dragons in movies growing up on Earth.

“Alright,” She smiled. “I’ll stay on Talabor after this. But the Princess is my top priority; she needs to be safe before I lay down roots on your world.”

“But of course,” Alexander said warmly.

As the two talked, Alexander’s eyes drifted to her right. Rachel turned to see Arcturios, Barsool, Tygo, and Nameless walking over.

“Now that is an interesting group of people,” Alexander chuckled.

“Yes, it is,” She sighed.

The King and Rachel bowed as they approached.

“Greetings, your majesty, may we borrow mistress Rachel for a moment?” Arcturios asked gently.

“At your leave, my lords,” King Alexander said graciously.

Rachel crossed her arms.

“What’s this about?”

“We will march on Zion soon. The legions only need a few days to fully muster and prepare; in the meantime, you two must be at full strength,” Barsool said.

“Us two?”

Rachel looked at Nameless, who shrugged. God, why was he always involved? He was literally the most annoying man she had met; he was like an orb of annoyance. As soon as he got near her, her blood boiled.

A woman in a full pitch-black cloak drifted over with silver paint on her face and black eyeliner. She studied Rachel and smiled.

“And who is this?” Rachel barked.

“This is the high Priestess; she has taken a vow of silence. If you would be so kind, please follow us,” Arcturios said kindly.

Barsool, Tygo, and Nameless drifted off. Rachel wondered where they were going. Arcturios and the high priestess went another way. She hesitantly followed. As they neared the courtyard's edge, a floating platform whisked towards them. It hovered a foot above the ground before them, railing lining three sides. The Priestess gestured, and Rachel hesitantly climbed onboard.

As she stood in the far corner of the platform, Arcturios and the Priestess also boarded. Rachel’s stomach dropped as it swiftly rose into the air, drifting over the temple and accelerating away over the forest.

Rachel gripped the railing tightly. She wasn’t afraid of heights or speed, but the platform made her nervous. The wind smacked her face as they flew, her eyes streaming tears as she squinted. As they passed, the forest beneath grew in size and depth; she couldn’t even see the ground below.

As they flew, Arcturios looked at her.

“You resent Nameless?”

Rachel looked at him, grimacing.

“Gee, didn’t realize it was that obvious.”

As they flew, a mountain slowly came into view. Dread started building inside of her; what was happening? What were these guys planning?

“I suppose it’s fair; he remembers some of his past lives, you do not.”

“And how do you know that?”

Arcturios smiled.

“Because if you remembered him, you would not treat him so coarsely.”

Rachel scoffed.

“He’s an ass!”

“He is part founder of Armenium.”

Rachel laughed; he was joking. Of course, he was joking; he had to be. Nameless could barely read; he talked like a child.

“As are you.”

Rachel looked at him, stunned.

“What do you mean?”

“You two were the first paradigms of Armenium, thirty thousand years ago.”

“You can’t be serious. That’s bullshit.”

“You will see,” Arcturios smiled, looking out over the landscape.

Rachel followed his gaze, watching the forest end as the mountain climbed high above them, towards the sky. As the platform began to descend, Rachel could see a cave entrance framed by pillars. The platform landed, and as they got off. Rachel could see several women in black robes with torches. The torches themselves were made of obsidian, the flame burning white.

Arcturios lead the way, Rachel following hesitantly behind. She looked behind her and saw the high priestess nod silently, a warm smile on her face. Overhead, the sun seemed to be choked by grey clouds. They passed the women, entering the cave. It was a long, dark tunnel, every ten feet lit by a white flamed torch jutting out from the wall.

The walls themselves were covered in ancient paintings. Arcturios stopped at the first one, igniting his purple energy and giving more light. Rachel gazed in wonder. Thousands of tiny black figures were worshiping a great giant, its many arms and eyes gracing them with bundles of sticks on fire, cups of water, iron, and more gifts.

“In the beginning, mankind was unleashed upon the cosmos,” Arcturios began.

“We are not a peaceful species; we have no original home. We were created during a great war that shook the stars.”

Arcturios moved on to the next painting, showing a great battle between black figures shaped like men, multicolored and limbed figures.

“Humans are a parasitic species. In our short lifespans, we seek to dominate our environment, enslave, or eradicate competition, and seek sovereignty over our own kind. Our innate instinct to cull the weak, masked by religion and culture, is what makes us so dangerous.”

The man continued to the next painting. It was a crude display of planets and stars.

“For eons, we served our masters well. On the frontlines, we fought their wars. Sometimes we were implanted on planets deep within enemy territory. Once we evolved to space flight, reaching out and colonizing, contacting the local enemy, humanity would destroy them over centuries with prolonged warfare and guile.”

They walked along to the next painting. Here, a man and a woman stood, fighting a tremendous ferocious scaled beast.

“Humanity kept the local civilizations on each of their perspective dimensions in check. Once we became too strong, our masters orchestrated our downfall, restarting the cycle. However, a King and Witch formed a bridge to another world in one cycle. The two humanities joined forces and reached out through the multiverse. Like our masters, the human empire began to grow, transcending time, dimensions, truly becoming a cosmic power.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Arcturios walked on. Rachel looked at the man and the woman, an odd feeling in her gut. She moved on. Here there were a dozen beings, but not human. Some had fur, others had many arms, some seemed to be walking plants, others human-like birds.

“Other species began following Humanities example, building roads and citadels of their own, connecting their neighboring dimensions and worlds. A kingdom was formed, an alliance of humans, Laydren, and many other species. This greatly displeased the masters; they were threatened for the first time since the Masters had created their empire, dominating what we call the universe.”

They moved on to the final painting. Here human figures were falling into an open pit, fire burning across the image.

“Our empire was crushed, weakened from the inside. Our relics and knowledge cast to the far corners of the universe. The Great Masters sent envoys who created the Kingdom of Zion. Your friend, Princess Zyhara. She is an ethereal ambassador; her people were designed to shepherd, cull the human population and evolution.”

Arcturios turned and faced Rachel. The high Priestess came over and held out her hand.

“We have waited in the shadows for centuries, preparing for the next great struggle. And now, we believe you both have returned. There is no coincidence that while in the envoy's complacency and greed, as Zion burns, a great general emerges from the dust of a shattered world, and Death once again walks among the living.”

Rachel slowly backed away, shaking her head.

“I am not who you think I am,” Rachel stammered.

“If that is true, then she will know. Please, take her hand. If we are mistaken, we will immediately go back the way we came,” Arcturios said gently.

Rachel’s body shook. She wanted to vomit, run, hide. This couldn’t be happening; how could they know. What would happen when Rachel took the Priestess’s hand.

Rachel slowly raised her trembling hand, extending it. Sweat ran down her body, and her breath shook. The Priestess suddenly grabbed Rachel’s hand. Nothing happened. Rachel sighed with relief.

Suddenly the Priestess’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, her body shaking, her teeth gritted. Electricity shot out from both women, the Priestess’s energy igniting, and her head rolled back. Rachel tried to release herself from the woman's grip, but it was useless.

The torches went out. Rachel could feel her energy materializing. Suddenly, black flame engulfed them both. The Priestess shrieked, and Rachel cried out in shock. It felt as if her body had been plunged into ice water. She looked down; her clothes had disintegrated, a black energy cloak wrapping itself around her body. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see her raven black hair had turned white.

The flame dissipated, the grip was broken, and the priestesses retreated, her eyes wide. Small floating orbs of white light danced in the air, making it look like snow in the tunnel. Both the priestess and Arcturios stared at Rachel in speechless fear and wonder.

Rachel held up her hands, seeing her skin was as pale as bone.

Arcturios got on his knees, bowing his head, whispering a prayer.

The Priestess was crying; it seemed like tears of joy as she clasped her hands.

“Welcome back, my lady,” She sobbed.

Chanting filled the tunnel; Rachel turned to see the women slowly drifting towards them, swaying as they walked. Their eyes had no pupils, as black orbs of flame rested in their open palms.

“My work here is done,” Arcturios gasped.

He quickly got up and fled down the corridor towards the light coming in from the entrance. Rachel could see his life force, feel his fear. It was delicious. An odd emotion rose inside her, like a cat playing with its victim. She had never been cruel, never enjoyed scaring people like that. What was this?

“Follow me, my lady.”

The High Priestess walked down the remaining tunnel. Rachel hesitantly followed. They emerged into an open cave, illuminated by the same kind of torches. Its walls are majestically carved in a terrible, twisted way. Skulls lined the walls, and a statue of a naked woman with wings and no face stood in the middle of a pool of dark, murky water. Rachel slowly walked up to the collection and looked at her reflection.

What stared back at her was a majestic woman, skin pale as bone, white hair, glowing red pupils. Giant, black wings strutted from her back. Rachel slowly touched her face, and the woman did the same.

The priestesses all formed a circle around the pool, the one who had held her hand standing beside Rachel.

“I am Decedere, mistress of the daughters of Death. Our order has served you since you founded the great kingdom, my lady. Since your fall, we each took a vow of silence, only to be broken upon your return.”

Rachel looked at her.

“I am truly Death? Am I the one who ends the lives of every creature?”

Decedere smiled.

“Death itself is a natural occurrence. You are the physical embodiment of it. The very focal point of its energy, conception, and execution. You are the judge, jury, and executioner of those who seek to cheat Death or manipulate her. You walk through worlds, striking down those who oppose you.”

Rachel looked at her hand. She clenched her fist. With all this power, she could do whatever she wanted. She could rule worlds and end armies if she could only master this.

“What happens now?” Rachel whispered, staring into the pool.

“Enter the pool and reclaim your past memories. In a past life, you left behind clues and tools that would aid you, should this day ever come. We have guarded this place over the centuries since.”

“Will I remember everything?”

Decedere shook her head.

“That is too much for one location. There are many hidden cells our order guards among the stars. We shall guide you and show you. Once you have regained your full strength, you will be ready for their return, and inevitable struggle. Enter the water, my lady, and regain the sum of your power.”

Rachel sighed. She slowly put a toe in the water and pulled it away. It was as cold as ice. She gritted her teeth and marched into the water. The cold water shocked her body as she went chest-deep, standing on the bottom.

“What now?” Rachel asked with chattering teeth.

The priestesses started chanting, forming staffs of grey energy. They held the staffs above their heads and slammed them to the ground. Arcs of electricity shot from the ground and into the water. Instead of being killed, Rachel watched in wonder as the water heated and began to move in a current. She could see the arcs of energy extending through the water as she walked deeper.

Rachel exhaled deeply and plunged her head beneath the water. Darkness consumed her vision. She was floating in nothingness, just as before when she first got her powers. A light appeared, and her consensus hurtled towards it.

The world materialized around her; she was standing on the top steps of the temple where they had had the feast. But things were different. The city was half-formed, some buildings not built yet, and others were just skeletons.

“Impressive, huh?”

Rachel turned and saw a warrior standing beside her. He was clad in gold armor, his grey skin scarred and patchy, his long golden hair cut into a warhawk.

“Lion?”

“Who’s that? My name is Orthyem.”

Rachel gasped.

“What's wrong?” Lion chortled.

“I could never talk to people before during these,” Rachel said rapidly.

“During what, day-to-day life? You hit your head or something?”

His smile faded at seeing her expression.

“What’s going on?”

He leaned in, studying her, his worried orange eyes searching.

“What’s my name?” Rachel asked.

“What?”

“What is my name?”

“Seraph.”

Rachel sighed.

Lion shook his head.

“C'mon, Aryus wants to see us.”

“Oh, joy,” Rachel groaned.

Lion gave her a fearful look.

“Please don’t tell me you are squabbling again; I just sorted out the Umar collective troubles. They’re still angry, by the way.”

Rachel smirked. Funny, even in this life, she seemed to be barely able to tolerate him.

They entered the temple. A man in dark armor leaned on a circular table with multiple holograms showing star routes and armies through galaxies. The man pushed off the table and turned to face them as they drew near. His facial features were different, broader, but it was him. She could tell from his look and posture that it was Nameless.

“Seraph darling!” He grinned, coming closer.

She almost threw up in her mouth. Please don’t let them be lovers. As he came closer to embrace her, she stepped away. His warm smile melted, his eyes narrowing. He pursed his lips.

“Right, okay, I don’t know what I did wrong this time, but can it wait, please? We have important plans to discuss.”

SHUT UP RIGHT NOW! DO NOT SAY OR DO ANYTHING!!!

A female voice shrieked inside Rachel’s head. A migraine split Rachel's head as she stumbled backward, howling, clutching her head in pain. Both men drew their swords, startled.

Suddenly, Rachel wasn’t in control of her body. She was floating inside the body. The point of view from the eyes drifted away, black consuming her. Rachel was floating in darkness. Suddenly, flames erupted around her, and a stunning woman in a black dress with a spear appeared.

“Got you!” The woman shrieked her eyes molten pearls of wrath.

Rachel held up her hands as the woman was about to strike.

The woman stopped, her eyes widening. She lowered her spear. The two looked at each other.

“Well, no wonder you blundered into my body so badly, you poor thing. This is your first life projection, isn’t it?”

Rachel studied the woman in shock. It was her, from another life. Sure, the face was different, she was much older, but Rachel could innately tell.

“I’m-I’m so sorry! There was a pool, and a bunch of crazy bitches with staffs and-and-and-” Rachel sobbed.

The women’s spear disappeared, and she put her hand on Rachel’s shoulder.

A bench appeared out of thin air.

“There, there, love. I’m sorry for being so harsh. You must understand how shocking it is to one moment be talking with Orthyem; the next, you’re banished to the depths of your subconscious while someone else pilots your body. Come, sit down.”

The flames disappeared as the two women sat down, and a lush forest appeared all around them. Rachel gazed in wonder at the birds and small animals living in the branches. Seraph took Rachel’s hands and looked her in the eyes.

“Now, tell me everything. Start with your childhood, what planet you grew up on, and tell me what you know.”

And so, for what felt like hours, Rachel told her everything. As she talked, Seraph materialized treats on a silver dish and poured wine for them both while listening intently. Once Rachel’s story was done, Seraph sighed.

“He always did come back as such a brute,” Seraph chortled.

“Does he get better?” Rachel asked.

Seraph chuckled.

“We make him better. Men are useful for sex and violence; that’s about it. We add the flavors to their lives. The right man and woman, no army can stand in their way.”

Rachel giggled.

Seraph sighed, shaking her head.

“So, the bastards actually did it. Everything we worked for, gone.”

“Well, not everything. There are still humans out there, the Laydren have their own kingdom, and we’re here.”

Seraph half-smiled.

“You are courageous; I am so proud of you.”

“Why was my mother death before I became it?” Rachel asked.

“We hold a mantel; if we cannot bear it, someone else must. We have spent many lives being Death; the mantle haunts our souls now. Often times our mothers or fathers inherit the mantle until we are ready. Your world being destroyed most likely was the catalyst that put you on this trajectory.”

“But why us?”

Seraph shrugged.

“If I am being honest, I can’t remember. I can barely remember what I had to eat for breakfast this morning, to remember what we were doing a thousand, million years ago? We must record that and keep it safe for our future incarnations to find. That's how this game works.”

Rachel shook her head. Seraph studied her.

“Be wary of that ethereal, Zyhara. She’s a child now but fully grown; well, let’s just say they’re quite the force of nature.”

“She won’t turn into anything like her family; I know that in my heart.”

“An ethereal on the side of humans. That would be frankly, I don’t think this language has the right word for how powerful that would be. But if you can control her-”

“She’s free to become whoever she wants,” Rachel barked.

Seraph pierced her lips, nodding.

“I forgot how stubborn we are. With no success, I have spent countless ages trying to rally those beings to our side. One of their own, fighting alongside you? That would change the entire course of history itself. If you guide her along the right path, she can become mankind’s greatest ally against the Great Masters.”

Rachel silently nodded, cupping her drink with her hands as she investigated it.

“Does it scare you? Knowing what’s going to happen?” She asked.

Seraph smiled.

“I love my husband, and I love my people. We lived a good life, several actually. And you being here is proof I was right to set safeguards in place. Don’t worry about me; I promise you I will not be going gently into that dark night.”

“How could you love him? She’s such a pig!” Rachel spat.

Seraph laughed as she looked out into the forest.

“Indeed, he is. You can have any man you want, I hate to say it, but you’re even better looking than I am. But, you could tell that man to move a mountain with his bare hands, and he’ll do it for you. Most men cheat, run, or lie. He’s not perfect; none of them are. They are men after all. But he is the best one I have ever met. Take care of your time's version, and I can confidently say you won’t regret it.”

Rachel scoffed.

“I don’t need a man.”

Seraph smiled.

“And you never will. But you will want someone who will love you for you, not because you’re the most powerful woman to ever exist. Think about that.”

Seraph rose, and a scroll of paper appeared in her hands.

“Right, these are the basic mechanics of our power. Our little cult has the map of all my other hiding spots. Oh, and next time you crash land into one of our heads again, try saying hi to that mind or hiding somewhere, so you don’t pilot that body, okay? We’re important; you might change the timeline just by mucking it up.”

Rachel smiled and nodded, standing. Seraph sighed.

“I do not envy you; there’s one hell of a journey ahead of you. But hey, who says we can’t have some fun along the way?”

Both women giggled as Seraph handed Rachel the scroll.

“What do I do with this?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that; they’re memories you’ll wake up with.”

Rachel smiled.

“Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for finding your way back to me. I was hoping this would never happen, but now I know we’re on track. Oh, and when you get back, tell whatever incarnation of Orthyem is there he needs to go home and kick their asses. The Laydren have always hated him for being special; he can’t earn their support just by being the best leader he can be. The Laydren have a nasty habit of banishing him every few thousand years.”

“He calls himself Lion now.”

Seraph looked puzzled and then burst out laughing.

“I had to search your memories to get the context, my stars. That is amazing!”

The two chuckled as a light appeared.

“That’s your ride,” Seraph said wistfully.

“We will avenge you,” Rachel nodded firmly.

“And we will pave the way for you,” Seraph smiled.

The two embraced, then Rachel stepped away, sprinting into the light.