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II-XXVIII. The Wicked Don't Die

Once again, Abad found himself in a world of endless white. He searched for the pleasant song he'd heard the first time he'd found himself in that place. After a time, he found it and followed. Soon, he was once again before the giant bronze woman with flaming hair. They reached toward one another, and when they touched, he was transported back to the top of the Great Tower. The skies were black, and the winds were fierce. He turned to find the Goddess sitting on her stone throne, looking east once again. He followed her gaze out onto the world beyond the tower and found darkness devouring all that remained of the world.

"Welcome, old friend." She looked at him and smiled. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Thank you for having me." He smiled back and bowed deeply. "Again."

She gave a weak laugh. "It seems you're destined to die" She stood. "That being the case, I'm happy you made the choices you did in your last life. It's nice to see you this way."

"You remember me then?"

She looked back to the east, toward the growing darkness. "Yes. Unlike the mortals and even your kind, I'm not bound to this world. This body is merely a manifestation of my spirit. I like being able to feel the wind from time to time."

A voice that wasn't his answered her. "You always did." He rocked on his feet as the final word left his lips.

She turned to him and smiled. This time, it was genuine. "I did. Thank you for remembering." Her expression soured.

"Will I always come back to this moment?"

"Yes."

"Will you always be here?"

"Yes." She walked forward and reached a hand out to him. He hesitated for a moment, then took it. For a time, they stood looking at one another. Again, memories teased at the edge of his mind, but they wouldn't come. "Plus, if I didn't manifest myself, we wouldn't be able to have these little chats."

"That would be a real pity, you not talking with me after I died." He laughed.

"Mortals get that distinct pleasure, but your kind doesn't. You should feel honored, oh great Dark One."

He laughed again. "Oh, don't butter me up that much. I'm only a piece of Him."

She smiled. "The best piece, at least in my opinion."

They stayed like that for a long time, but eventually the darkness grew, and the earth shook. "I suppose it's time for me to be off." He stepped toward the edge of the tower.

"Wait." She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. "When you die, you fall out of my sight. Tell me, what will happen when you leave here?"

"I return to the void."

She frowned. "What is that like?"

"It's like being asleep, but there are no dreams, only memories. Over time, the memories, and the feelings that go with them, fade." He rubbed his neck. "At least they did the first time. I remembered far more this time around."

She reached for his shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It simply means some things matter to me now. That's all." He looked into her golden eyes. "I don't mind the memories. It's eternity that's lonely."

She let go of his shoulder. "It is." She was quiet for a while. "These memories of yours... do you remember any fondly?" She searched his eyes, looking for something. What, he couldn't say.

He thought back. He'd be lying if he said they were all bad. His mind turned to holding Angra in his coffin, and traveling with Zethari, and Keila... "My past used to taste quite bitter, but I've tasted a variety of choice memories of late. I'm growing rather fond of some of the flavors."

"I'm glad. May you create many more fond memories in the days to come." She stepped backward.

"I plan to." With those words, he gave her his most winning smile, bowed deeply, and threw himself off the tower.

***

"... Master..." Angra wheezed in his ear.

"... Yes...?"

"... Let's not die again..."

"... I'll do my best..."

"... Good..."

***

Abad woke in darkness. He willed his lungs to work. The stale scent of his sarcophagus filled his nose. No. Something was pressing against his face, stifling him. He reached up and felt the thing on his face. It was Angra. She'd rolled on top of him at some point. He took several slow, measured breaths to center himself, then pulled her away from his face and to his chest. She groaned as he moved her, swatting and kicking as he did. Once she settled against his chest, her body stopped struggling. He felt her cling to him. He wrapped his arms around her, and they slept longer.

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***

Finally, it was time. He pushed against the softly glowing lid and slid it off. A moment later, he was sitting up and looking around the vault.

It had changed dramatically since the last time he was there. Everything was polished to a shine. The space was significantly better lit, allowing him to see the depths of the main hall much better than before. The walls were lined with magical torches, and skeletons were busy carving designs into the stone. While still rough, the designs were large and intricate. Detailed depictions of moments throughout the fourth age covered the walls and pillars. Even the ceiling boasted illustrations. On the far side of the vault, the grimoire was busy chiseling at one of the rough carvings. About a quarter of it was so detailed that it was nearly lifelike.

"So this is what you've been spending your time doing?" He called out the being. He swung his legs over the side and sat on the stone.

The grimoire didn't answer for a long time. It kept carving away at the scene on the wall, meticulously detailing every minute aspect.

"Grimoire?" Abad asked.

It snapped its head around so violently that its neck creaked. "Ah! You're awake, young one." It holstered its chisel in a finely sewn bandolier of what looked suspiciously like his old clothes and marched to him. The book jostled in its skeletal ribs as it walked. "It's about time. Too long, I told them, but they didn't listen. You were asleep too long."

Angra stirred behind Abad. "Can't we sleep a little longer?" She rubbed her eyes as she sat up. Her yellow-red eyes opened. When she saw where she was, she squeaked. "Master! Get your things. We need to get moving!" She hopped onto the lid of the sarcophagus, then groaned. She rubbed her legs and added, "After a bath and a little stretching first."

"We have a few minutes, little one. Let's catch up with the grimoire a bit. He's been alone for a long time." Abad turned to the book. "So, how have you been?"

"Oh, good, very good," its red points of light pulsed, signifying its excitement. "I've taken up carving as a hobby. It's really quite soothing."

"Well, it is a masterpiece." Abad stood despite his protesting muscles and walked toward the wall the book had been working on. "Are these events from the Fourth Age?"

"Indeed!" The grimoire marched up to him and pointed at the carving. "This particular piece I call 'Dark Majesty.' It's a depiction of when your forebear rose from the Depths to claim the Goddess's golden land." It pointed to another carving. "That one is when you first challenged the Sun Elves at Aelderifwi. Oh, how I marveled when I read that portion of the histories in your library!" The lights in its skull pulsed brightly. "It really was quite riveting."

Abad remembered. He'd executed every noble of the city-state and "liberated" the people. That was early in his conquest.

"Master, we really need to get moving. If you end up killing me again, I'm going to..." her face screwed up, "... kill you."

"We will, we will. Just a moment longer." Abad turned to the grimoire, who he was sure was frowning. "I no longer have the pack you gave me, book. However, we don't have time to wait for you to make me another. That delay cost us too much last time. Do you have any suggestions?"

The skeletal figure snapped its bones, and a minute later, a skeleton emerged from the back halls.

"Worry not, young one. The enchantments I wove into the pack were most prudent if I do say so myself." It reached out and took the pack from the skeleton, then handed it to Abad. "When you die, it returns to the vault. That way, the mortals can't benefit from your loss."

He nodded and took the object. The idea was certainly practical. "Always a step ahead, grimoire." He bowed to the being as much as his stiff back allowed.

"At least three, yes." The grimoire's dot eyes narrowed. "However, I have a requirement for this leg of your journey."

"Which is?"

"Please, send me more books. Supplies. Weapons. Armor. Magical ingredients. Anything, really. As you may have surmised, I ran out of things to work with a century ago." It gestured around. "Thus, carving."

Abad laughed. "Of course, my friend. I will send everything I can to you. We will make these halls sparkle once again before I finish my quest. I promise."

"The things do not need to be so grand. Anything will do."

"Okay, okay. I'll send you things of interest." He went to turn, but he saw the skeleton looking at him sideways.

"You won't forget?"

"Of course not. I'll send you everything of interest. I promise."

The skeleton nodded vigorously. "Good, good. Always a competent and capable student, you are. So smart. Quite diligent. A true apprentice." Its head continued to nod rapidly. "Now, run along and save the world or whatever it is you're doing. I've got work to do."

Abad stood, bowed again, then headed to the back halls. Within an hour, they were bathed, dressed, and ready. They returned to the teleportation circle and were off.

***

Once again, they were in Yselene's temple. It was a strange feeling, to return to the same place and time thrice. He looked around, finding everything as it should be. Everything except...

"Angra, fly up and tell me if it looks like dawn or dusk."

She flew upward, then returned. "It's dawn."

That was new. He either was late or early. In his first life, they'd taken their time, bathed, dressed, and wasted time. In his second life, they'd waited several days before leaving. Unless something was different, he had a feeling they were early by about a day. That was good.

He walked to the cat monster. Unlike before, its head was still intact. He unslung his pack and reached inside. Visualizing A-Nis's dagger, he felt a small pulse of energy, then felt the wood of the dagger in his hand. He withdrew the object and sawed at the monster's neck. A moment later, it came free, and he threw it in the bag with the dagger and willed them both away. He went to turn away, but something crossed his mind.

He laughed. "This can't possibly work."

Grabbing the creature's bony neck, he tried stuffing the too-large corpse into the too-small bag. After a few minutes, he'd gotten its neck and part of one leg into it. Once he'd done as much as he could, he wiped his hands on the grass. He didn't know if it'd work, but he knelt down, touched the bag, and willed the corpse away. To his astonishment, the bones were pulled into the bag. He looked inside and found it empty. Laughing, he grabbed the bag and stood up.

"I can't believe it." He chuckled as he inspected the inside of the pack again. Nothing. The grimoire really outdid itself.

"The dusty old book won't have anything to complain about now, will it?" Angra sauntered up.

"It'll keep him interested for a bit at least." He slung the pack over his shoulder, then walked toward the deer trail and toward the party.

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