“Now tell me why I should let you bring him back to life without completing his trial,” Mors asked Zyl.

“Well, before we discuss that part, not only do I want to bring him back without completing his trial,” looking directly at Mors, Zyl smirked, “I want him to receive the reward from the trial.”

Mors' eyes narrowed. He glanced at me, it felt like my entire being was exposed before his eyes, his eyebrows raised high before quickly returning to a neutral expression. Mors looked back at Zyl. “Fine, you can resurrect him without completing his trial and take the reward, but he won’t have two chances of resurrection anymore, and until he meets certain requirements, he can’t use the full capabilities of his gifts.”

I didn’t know how to feel when hearing the terms Mors made in order for Zyl to resurrect me. I would be resurrected, sure, but my gifts would be suppressed as well, and my other chances of resurrection gone. Me and Zyl made a deal, not me and Mors. Wouldn’t this basically be breaking the deal by suppressing them when the deal was made in order to help me liberate the kingdom? How can I do that if the tools I have will be basically useless now?

Zyl turned his head to me. “You must be thinking that these conditions would be breaking our deal,” Zyl said. How does he know what I'm thinking? Can he read minds? “I'm not reading your mind; you're just easy to read,” did he just insult me? “Yes, I insulted you,” Zyl did it again.

I held my hands together, trying to calm down. I heard laughter across the table; it was Jacob Alter. He seemed to enjoy watching me look like a fool in front of him. I stood from my seat and glared at him. He saw me glaring at him, he leaned over the table within arm's reach of me. “Got something to say?” I clenched my fist. “Oh that’s right, you—” I punched his jaw before he could finish the last word.

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I knew that it would be a bad idea to do this. I still felt like touching him would lead to something bad happening to me, but I didn’t care. I can tolerate gods treating me like someone they can push around, but I refuse to show weakness to anyone else, even if it is myself.

Jacob stood up from my seat; Zyl and Mors stayed in their seats. They seemed interested in seeing how far this scuffle will go. Zyl snapped his fingers. “You can speak now,” he announced. Those words irked Jacob, but that wasn’t important right now. He heard the floors creaking and looked at Jacob alter; he was limping towards the bar. The chairs in the inn blocked his movement, forcing him to push the chairs out of the way.

Seeing him limping like an injured animal made me feel a sense of frustration. It was like I was being reminded of how powerless I felt when I died… I hate it. I want to get rid of that powerlessness. I don't want to be part of a great destiny I know nothing about.

“What is your purpose?” Jacob asked before walking towards Jacob alter, who made his way towards the bar, then sat on the bar stool. He put his hands on the table; the ghostly barkeep next to him was currently cleaning empty glasses. Jacob grabbed his shoulder, ready to get answers a different way, but before he had a chance, he saw a glass cup swung at his face. He didn’t have enough space to dodge. Jacob closed his eyes so that the shattered glass wouldn’t blind him, a punch followed after.

The force of the blow made my head spin. I stumbled back towards the table behind me; the shards of glass made my head start bleeding. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be anything more than a minor wound. I never knew I punched that hard. I have been told I was pretty strong for my young age, which was helpful in fights and other things.

I got my bearings and saw Jacob alter standing up from his seat. He didn’t struggle to get up. Did he fake his limp in order for me to let my guard down? “Ready for round 2?” Jacob alter said smiling at me before getting into a fighting stance. “Let’s see what other tricks you have up your sleeve,” I responded before doing the same stance.