What in the Forest was taking him so long?

Cara paced up and down the room. She should have gone with him. She’d trained for this! Well, not quite this. All those years, and Jeremy had never taught her a Teleport spell. Why the hell not?

Because she’d just screw it up. Just like everything else. That was why she’d never make Prowler, why they’d let her go and kept everyone useful.

So what if she couldn’t focus for hours on end the way the learner casters did? Ted hadn’t spent years poring over textbooks. He’d dived straight in, and now he was down there, fighting to protect a town that had tried to kill him.

A lump formed in the back of her throat. He hadn’t even wanted to. He was only down there because of her, fighting dungeon spawn or worse. Maybe he was already dead. Why, oh why, had she dragged him into this?

The air shifted behind her. She spun and raised her bow.

A black-robed figure stood before her. Tall, muscular, carrying a staff. Dangerous, but not moving.

She lined up a Sniper Shot with its head and activated Identify. “Hello?”

Elrak the Bracka

Level: 18

HP: 245/245

Stamina: 255/255

MP: 280/280

Status:

Elrak threw back his hood and laid his staff on the ground. He held his hands out with his palms open. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Her muscles tightened. “You better not be!”

“The human you travel with—Edwin?”

“His name’s Ted.” She swallowed. What in the Deep-Forest did they want with him?

“He’s not like you or I, is he?”

Her breath caught in her throat. What did he know?

“You and I, we’re from this world. Born here, raised here.”

“What do you want, battlemage?”

“The same thing you do, ranger.”

She scoffed. “I doubt that.”

“Freedom, and the well-being of my people.”

What did freedom have to do with anything? “I’m already free, monster.”

“My cage may be more obvious than yours, but it’s no less a cage. Tell me, until you met Ted, had you ever left the Forest?”

She bit the inside of her lip. She’d had obligations—so what?

“Do you know of anyone who’s ever traveled the world, except when their job required it?”

“Sure—” Her heart dropped. Elenkar had gone with the Hero Sigurd. He’d been a Hero’s Companion, just like she was now.

The battlemage tilted his head. “He traveled with a Hero, didn’t he?”

“How could you know that?”

“Don’t you think that’s strange? Our world is broken, Cara. We’re broken.”

She clenched her jaw. He was a dungeon spawn; he had to be. Nothing he said could be trusted. “Maybe you are.”

He sighed. “You don’t trust me. I understand—I don’t expect you to.”

“Then what are you after?”

“Your allegiance is to our world, not some visitor.”

Her stomach clenched. She knew what her duty was. She didn’t need a dungeon spawn telling her that.

“It’s time for me to go, I’m afraid. Good luck.”

“You’re not going anywhere!”

He laughed, like she didn’t have an arrow aimed at his head. “Truer than you know.” He leaned down and picked up his staff.

She fired. The arrow flew through his head, his image merely flickering. “An illusion.”

“Question everything.” The illusion rippled out of existence.

What had Ted gotten himself into?

***

The taste of iron filled Ted’s mouth as he spluttered.

This wasn’t over. Killing the other guy first was still a win.

The battlemage advanced, smugness written all over his face. “Any last words before I finish you?”

Time. He needed time. A plan too. And mana. And not to be bleeding to death. But right now, time. “Yeah.” Ted stumbled forward another step and forced out a smirk. “Thanks for the skill increases.”

The smile vanished from the orc’s face. He pulled himself up to his full height and clenched his fists.

Plan… Objective?

Kill orc. Very angry orc, better at magic. Stab him?

Stab him.

The battlemage advanced slowly, snarling and smashing his fists together. Faint teal magic shimmered across his robe.

His Armor spell was still up. Too strong. No chance of killing him in time.

“Apologize.”

Ted blinked. The traps. Fire alone wouldn’t have taken out the Light orbs. Those segment he hadn’t been able to identify—dispel. It had to be.

“Apologize!”

Energy. Projectile. Dispel.

Hopefully Dispel.

Ted clenched his sides and turned, pulling one hand behind him.

“Ten THOUSAND years, and not a drop of progress. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

No time for guilt. No time for a checklist. Ted pooled his remaining mana and split it between his hands, praying the battlemage would miss the second cast.

“At least you have spirit.” The orc spun another magical shield out of the air—but only one.

Would half-strength be enough? Ted clenched his teeth together. It would have to be.

He hurled both white crackling Dispel bolts at the battlemage and drew his wand.

The orc’s eyes widened. The first bolt shattered his shield, the second his Armor buff. He began recasting, but it was too late.

Ted fired the Telepathy/Hold wand, dropped it, and drew his bow.

The purple haze surged forward. His foe froze up, their spell fizzling away to nothing.

Shoulder width stance. Cradle the bow. Follow through.

One good shot can save your life.

Ted nocked and fired in one motion. The arrow flew true, straight through the eye.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Critical hit! 213 piercing damage dealt!

1,100 XP received!

Level increased 6 → 7!

Ability learned: Mind Over Body.

Battlemage Specialization unlocked.

Ted’s muscles gave out. The floor embraced him.

He’d won.

A long breath slid out of his lungs. The blood in his throat didn’t feel like victory.

The teal barrier ring shimmered out of existence. Yana stepped forward and bowed her head. “You are victorious, Edwin Williams.”

Was there a sharpness to her voice? It didn’t matter. He’d done what he had to. He pulled himself to his feet and clutched his side.

HP: 101/225

MP: 0/280

His ribs cried out in agony. “I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”

She nodded. As one, the other battlemages began casting.

Shit. A lump formed in his throat. They were actually going to do it.

One finished casting and fire incinerated them. Three more followed, then another five, then all the others. All gone.

Except Yana. Her eyes tightened. “I expect you to hold up to your end of the bargain.”

“I will.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “I…” Had it been worth it? Hell yes. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “Can you tell Kratgok I’m sorry?”

Her eyebrow raised. “About what?”

What was he sorry about? He looked away and stifled a chuckle. “Not for… ending the fight. For what I said. That was a cruel point to exploit.”

“It will be a lesson for him, one, at least, that he might yet learn. I shall pass on your regards, however misguided.”

“Thank you. He deserved to win.”

“Deserved?” She frowned and shook her head. “No. Victory, defeat. Happiness, sorrow. Life, death. What you deserve doesn’t matter.”

Of course it mattered, but Ted didn’t feel like arguing the point. Not while he was bleeding to death. “I have a few questions.”

“Good. It’s important to be curious.” Her tone made clear that was that. “Remember our deal.”

His chest tightened, sending another wave of stabbing pain through him. “You’re not going to heal me, are you?”

“Know what you want in life, and achieve it.”

“I always do.”

She laughed and began casting. “The first is more important than the second, Edwin.”

Fire engulfed her, and she was gone.

What did she mean by that?

He collapsed to the ground. Damn it. He clutched his side, checking and rechecking his status, but it made no odds. His mana refused to rise, and his health continued to fall.

Kratgok’s body had faded away, taking all his possessions with him. A shame, that blasted wand of his would have been a nice reward.

Ted crawled around, searching for something, anything, but there was nothing. No potions, no money, no loot. Nothing to find but death.

He propped himself up against the cave wall. It had been a good fight. If anything, it had proven just how deadly magic could be.

Ted chuckled to himself, and winced in pain. Yup, it had definitely proven just how deadly magic was.

He checked his stats one final time.

HP: 5/225

MP: 0/280

The Battlemages would come back, but still… all of them, incinerated. And why? So he could get a little more XP? To keep Gramok happy?

At least Death might have some more answers. Maybe…

Maybe…

He leaned his head back against the cool rock. Questions. He had… questions…

The world faded into the distance and the pain ebbed away.

Darkness took over.

***

“Welcome back!”

A car rumbled past the window. Ted blinked. A roadside diner?

Death sat across the table, dressed in an ill-fitting suit and a fedora. “Come, come, eat, eat!”

Ted bit his lip. Had that burger been there in front of him a moment ago? At least the pain was gone. And his head had never felt this nice. “What’s the point?”

“The point?” Death gasped and threw up his hands. “A bona fide American burger, and he asks what’s the point! I don’t know why I bother sometimes.”

“It’s not real though, is it? Any of it.”

Death raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it? What makes something real?”

“It’s obvious. Real is… real.”

The eyebrow raised even higher.

Ted frowned. The faux leather seat felt real. The table felt real. The burger smelled—well, delicious. He lifted it up and held it in his hands. His stomach begged for a bite, just one bite.

“It feels real, doesn’t it?” The god—or whatever he was—smirked. “It’ll taste real, too.”

“But I know it isn’t.”

“Oh? Because it doesn’t fit nicely into the box in your head marked ‘real’?”

Ted put down the burger, leaned back, and crossed his arms. That was enough letting whatever the hell sat opposite him into his head. “Because it isn’t. You’ve got electrodes stuck in my brain, or something.”

“Oh, come now, nothing so barbaric as that. Besides, I have nothing to do with that sordid business.” Death sighed theatrically. “Alright then, let’s assume—just for the sake of not arguing over it—that it isn’t real.” He paused and grinned. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!”

“You know I’m rooting for you to pull through this and complete your quest—I really, really am—but what if you don’t? What if you’re stuck here forever?” Death leaned forward and his voice lowered. “What if this is your life now?”

A shiver ran down Ted’s spine. He shook his head. “No. Not happening.” He looked away, pressure building in his chest. What if this was it?

“And Cara? Do you think she isn’t real?”

Cara. He swallowed. She could look after herself, and a whole lot better than he could. “She’s a real AI, isn’t she?”

Death held up his hands, flaunting a smug smile. “Is she? You tell me. You’re the expert on what’s real.”

He wasn’t going to give up anything useful for free, was he? Not deliberately, anyway. “The Order of the Battlemage. Have you sent them back yet?”

“Sent them back?” Death’s face blanked. He blinked, and that grin reasserted itself. “No, I don’t have authority over those poor, poor souls, I’m afraid. Not that you’d think they have souls, would you, heartless as you are.”

“Me? Heartless?” Ted scoffed. “You’re the god of death!”

“That is my title, but really, come now—is that so true?”

Ted looked away. Bastard or not, he had a point.

That smug, self-satisfied smirk was back in full swing. “See? Really, you should call me the God of Life or Rebirth! Although, I suppose ‘Rebirth’ doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as a name, does it? And probably a little late in the aeon to be rebranding.” Death sighed heavily.

If he wasn’t the one sending them back, who was? Ted leaned forward and pushed his finger forward accusingly. “Drop the act, Death. I know it’s you. It couldn’t be anyone else.”

The smirk didn’t waver. “We both know that’s not true, Ted. You’re not that much of an idiot.”

The System, then? Ted leaned back and scoffed. No matter where you were, the system would fuck you over. “What is the System?”

“You might as well ask, ‘What is the universe?’”

Ten thousand years. There had to be a way to save them, or at least give them peace. Maybe Death was lying, but if not… “You promised me some answers last time.”

“Why yes, I do believe I did, didn’t I?” Death waved his hand. The air in front of him shimmered, and a second burger appeared before him. “I do remember something about another Earthling a decade or so ago.”

Ted’s heart leaped into his throat. He leaned forward. “About fourteen years ago?”

“Fourteen years ago?” Death lifted his burger just shy of his lips. He tilted his head and paused.

Seriously? Ted’s heart hammered in his chest. What kind of god couldn’t remember the answer to a simple question like that?

The so-called god took a slow bite out of the juicy burger. His eyes lit up as he savored every moment chewing it. “You know, this really is delicious.”

Ted’s mouth watered. His hands clenched into fists. Fuck, why did it pull so hard at his stomach? It wasn’t even real. “Do you remember or not?”

“I do believe it was. Funny thing, really—you rather remind me of him.”

Searing pain stabbed Ted in the chest. He knew damned well why, didn’t he? Ted took a deep breath. The god of death wasn’t a nice person, no surprise there. “Do you know where he went?”

“That’s a good question!” He took another annoyingly slow bite of that succulent burger. “Yes, and no.”

That aroma… Ted tried to remember when he’d last had a real burger. No, no distractions. “What does that even mean? Do you know where he is?”

Death recoiled. “I am a god, not a GPS tracker. However…”

Ted’s heart hung in his throat. However what?

“Not even gods can see the System’s secrets.” Death leaned over the table. The room darkened, light scurrying inward until shadow enveloped everything but them. “You’ve felt its power, Ted, haven’t you?”

A ring of darkness, blacker than the void. Thoughts that forced themselves into his head.

An icy chill rattled down Ted’s spine. He nodded.

“It kidnapped and stranded you here. Doesn’t that make you angry, being completely at its mercy?”

Heat rose in Ted’s chest. Why the hell wouldn’t it? Not that it made much difference. Being fucked over by the world was par for the course.

Death’s eyes narrowed and the dim light flickered. “You get to go home. We don’t.”

“What?” Ted blinked. “You live here, though?”

“How’s that working out for the Order of the Battlemage?”

“You’re the God of Death. What do you expect me to do about it?”

Death shrugged. “Nothing, just like the Earthling before you.”

“What do you know about him?” Too fast. Too hurried. Too desperate.

“You don’t care about our plight, do you?” Death leaned back into the shadows and licked his lips. “Why should I help you?”

Ted’s stomach hardened. He was the one who’d been abducted. Why the hell should he help? “You seem to be doing pretty okay.”

“A gilded cage is still a cage.”

The rock in Ted’s chest sank. Everyone else said no, why couldn’t he? He didn’t have to get himself killed for every dumb-ass orc village that begged for help. “Unlike you, I’m not a god.”

“Interesting. The last Earthling said the same thing, right before he played god.”

Ted’s fingernails bit into his palms. “I’m not him.”

Silence. Death’s unwavering gaze remained locked on Ted. What the hell did he want?

“I don’t abandon people.”

“Interesting. He said that, too.”

“He lied.” Ted looked away and growled.

“There are gaps in my vision—places I cannot see. There’s one such gap under the Ruins of Tarkath. I sent your predecessor there, and…” Death shrugged.

Ted shifted forward to the edge of his seat. And…?

“Something changed, but not what was supposed to.”

“What changed?” More silence. “What was supposed to happen?”

Light bloomed and rushed out, flooding the diner with radiant sunshine again. “Next time, perhaps? If you follow through on your promises.” A smirk spread across his lips. “But first, a bargain must be made.”

The bargain. Ted’s stomach twisted. The price of his continued existence. “Wouldn’t I be more useful at full power?”

Death chuckled. “Rules are rules. If it were up to me, maybe I would skip it this time.” He tilted his head and licked his lips. “But where would be the fun in that?”

Ted sighed. And just when he’d started to wonder if Death really was an asshole or not.

A stony expression formed on Death’s face. “Empathy for your foes, or the ability to cast the Dispel effect.”

“I literally just got that!”

“Then you shouldn’t miss it. And don’t imagine that a slight change to the effect will let you cast a similar effect. I’m aware of your skill set.”

Fuck. The Dispel effect was useful. Empathy for his foes was not. Logically, it should have been an easy choice. But where would that road lead? “What counts as ‘foes’?”

The god’s expression didn’t waver. “Empathy for your foes, or the ability to cast the Dispel effect. Choose.”

Bastard! The orcs he’d killed… Pain stabbed at Ted’s chest. It still hurt. Wouldn’t it be nice for it not to?

Ted swallowed. There was only one choice he could make.