"But I cant go back!" the armored moron argued for the fiftieth time.

I knew it was the fiftieth because I had been counting. He attempted again to squirm free of his restraints but to no avail. "Can you stop wriggling around? It makes the steed skittish, Bozo." I said from atop him. He was slung over the seat of my wagon. I was using him as a padded bench, figured he may as well be useful for something on our trip back to the living lands.

"My name's not Bozo, it's--"

"--I dont care what it is!" I interrupted with the click of my bone fingers snapping together. "You enter my country, attack me at my house, and have the audacity of doing it before breakfast. I will call you whatever I want. And it is Bozo!"

We rode in silence for several minutes. The bug creature that was pulling the wagon turned her head back towards me, I waved a hand at her "Everything's fine, buggy. Just keep on moving please."

"You call your bug monster 'buggy'?" the man asked with heavy amounts of judgement in his voice.

"You name your animals?"

"Yes! That helps them to know when you are calling them! It helps you tell others which animal you are referring to."

"Ah." I turned back towards the road.

Bozo changed the subject "Why is the wood of this wagon purple?"

I glanced down, the wood was not exaclty purple, it was actually burgundy. But most people couldn't tell the difference "Cause that is the color of the wood it was made from. Blood creepers (when full grown) are a great resource for carpentry projects. Now back to our own little project, which city I am taking you to?"

"You can't take me back! I swore an oath that I'd vanquish you before I returned. It was my first quest!"

"Well, fighting rats is a good first quest. Gathering herbs and what-not. And usually we don't call them quests, we just call them chores. And we start doing them as kids, and as we grow older we do more and more complex chores. The only people that call normal work a 'quest' are morons."

"How do you know what children do? You're an undead abomination."

"And you're a wee bit rude for being a prisoner." I tapped the back of my boot against his ribs to make my point. "I wasn't always a wight. Once I was just a normal man. And I had a family. Had a lot of things (like chores) that made my life fulfilling." My words trailed off as I spotted Warren crouched on a tree on the side of the road. I shoved my hair back behind my rotting ear and called out "Don't even think about it, Warren!"

The birdlike humanoid ignored my warning and dove towards me with a screech of rage. Buggy spat missiles of acid at the feathered attacker. He wove his way past them, his talons extended towards my throat. I did an uppercut to his jaw, shattering it and sending him crashing to the earth with bone shattering boom. I stood up, dusted my pants off and hopped down. Warren was about to escape when I grabbed him by one of his wings and used it to slam him to the ground again. "I told you to leave me alone, Warren. You are all morons, every single one of you black feathered, trench coat wearing idiots." I punctuated each sentence by hitting his beaked face against the side of the wagon. His beak finally cracked and I took a step back.

He attempted to stand but wobbled back to the ground "You can't do anything to us, we are countless. If one of me dies then two more take my place."

"Blahdee blahdee blah." I wasn't in the mood for his rhetoric. I grabbed my shovel from the back of my wagon and bashed his brains in. The cerulean blood splattered my face and my shovel. I tossed the shovel and his corpse into the back of the wagon. I climbed back up onto my seat and clicked buggy back to pulling the cart.

Bozo's words were hesitant "That was overboard."

"Was it?"

His voice became firmer, more strong, "you knew him and killed him! You really are a monster!"

"Who? Oh Warren? Nah, he's not dead." I explained with a dismissive tone.

"But, the shovel..." he trailed off.

"Yeah, that was so he would stop talking. If you don't hammer his head in right away he will spout nonsense for days." I peered down at Bozo with a realization that he was genuinely bothered. "Seems like you don't get it. That body in the back of my wagon isn't Warren, not the true Warren. That is only a part of him. Like a hair on your head. If I cut one of your hairs it’s annoying but doesn't bother you in any way, shape or form. He creates the bodies and possess them, he goes through those things at an alarming rate."

"Why don't you stop him?"

"Cause he's not worth the effort, he is small potatoes. I just kill four or five of him a year and he stays out of my way."

"But he may kill you!"

I looked at him, and smiled or attempted to at least "I am already dead, I don't fear it anymore, fear of death is a biological instinct. When you are undead that instinct is gone, we fear death like you fear paying taxes, it is inconvenient and you want to avoid it as long as possible. But eventually, well, everyone has to pay the taxman."

Bozo didn't say anything for a little bit. Mulling over my words. I was looking down on him when another Warren leapt up from the bushes. I leaned back to evade the slicing metal nails, and slammed my foot into his chest. He hissed in surprise as he was sent back into the bushes. "Warren, this isn't funny! I'm busy, go bother someone else!"

Warren struggled, his leather trench coat caught among the branches and stems. He was shouting insults and threats as we continued on our way, his voice fading as we rounded the bend.

I didn't look behind me as I noted to my captive "You don't seem used to this sort of thing, undead fighting each other. Did you even go to an academy? Or are you just one of those country bumpkins that stole someone's armor and went prancing across the countryside?"

Bozo shifted "I did go to academy, and I earned this armor!"

"Of course you did." I patted his head.

"I did!"

"No one is saying otherwise." I agreed a little too quickly.

"I went to The Horned Dragon Academy! Ask anyone there, I was the top graduate this year!"

"Thank you." I muttered tugging on the reins to redirect Buggy's path, her speed didn't change as she moved off the road and started tearing her way through underbrush.

"Wait! What are you doing?!" Bozo shouted as branches whipped at his unprotected face.

"Well, we are going to the city of snow." I explained patiently "And this is the fastest route. Horned Dragon academy is in the city of snow."

He stared up at me realizing he had been tricked "How do you know that?"

"Because I was the one that founded it." I explained. Enjoying the shock on his face.

"You can't be." he argued.

"Why not?" I countered without skipping a beat.

Bozo's response was heated "Elric the founder was a man of virtue and justice!"

"No, Elric the founder was a man that didn't want everyone in his city to die." I corrected mildly "It had nothing to do with virtue or justice. It was survival. And it sucked."

"Elric the Shining Star of the North didn't become some zombie farmer."

"Well, no He didn't."

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"I knew you were lying!" Bozo shouted in triumph.

"After Elric Bastion saved the city, he and his family moved to a large farm and he enjoyed his life, until that country was immersed in battle. One of the kings decided to take drastic measures, tore down ancient barriers keeping out the undead and allied himself with a lich. The king won the battle and the lich took over the two kingdoms. Elric went into battle against the poweful lich, was cursed and became a wight. He helped his family escape the clutches of the lich's armies. All alone he decided to stay as a farmer."

Bozo just listened in a stupor, his entire reality collapsing around him "The entire academy is founded on his battle style and tactics. His spells and magic is the foundation of everything in all the academies of the northern kingdoms."

"Ah, well this is embarrassing, I can't do any magic, couldn't as a human can't as an animated corpse." I gestured down at my body "As for my battle style, I was born with one leg that grew at an odd angle, I just figured out how to make a fighting style that worked for me."

His eyes traveled to my bent leg, "I always thought when they said 'he walked with halted steps' it was in reference to his humble nature."

I chuckled and flicked the reins to increase Buggy's speed "Nope, I was full of myself until death. After it, well, death does have a way of changing a man."

When we arrived on the outskirts of a small village I stole some clothing hanging on a line. Lifted some leather gloves from an inattentive carriage driver and finally took the the bright green cloak of one of the constables. He was not using it, he was snoring soundly in a corner of a barn, hiding from his duties. I had to send Buggy and the wagon back home, didn't need to have anyone throwing a spear at her in fear. She trundled off as I slung Bozo over my shoulder and started walking down the well trod road towards the City of Snow.

-

Laslilus kissed my neck before she rested her head on my shoulder. I was sitting in my chair staring at the fire, gently I bumped my head against hers. "You don't have to go." her words were no longer urging or desperate. They were tired. She was simply repeating them, the same tone as a prayer to the gods. My words were in the same tone as hers. "If I don't stop him, the rest of the world becomes a graveyard under his foot. I won't let that happen to you, or the children or the pure white city."

Her fingers found a lose thread in the shoulder seam of my shirt. She tugged on it out of habit "I need to fix your shirt again."

I caught her hand, stopping the motion. "It'll only be for a night, I slip into the castle, drive the spear in the lich's chest and be back before the sunrise. I promise."

"Promise?" she asked.

I curled my fingers around hers, the orange firelight flickering against my closed eyelids. "I promise."

I swore I could still feel the warmth of her head on my shoulder as I opened my undead eyes to the night forest. I lay there for much longer than I needed to. Listening to the crickets.

"I didn't know that zombies slept." Bozo stated from his place against the tree. The rope that had bound him was neatly coiled beside him.

I surveyed him, sitting half in the shadows. I tapped the side of my head, the blue flames in my eyes flickering "Zombies don't sleep. I am not a zombie. I'm a wight."

"What's the difference?" he asked, sharpening his sword.

I chuckled "Zombies are mindless slaves, formed from necromancer's magic. Wights we are much more, we are the lock and key of the undead world. Wights are the deathless, scaring the things that lurk in graves beneath the ground."

"You just look like a normal undead with a straw hat on your head." he pointed out.

"That's because he doesn't like scaring the red blooded mortals." A woman's bright and cheery voice explained.

"Ursula, what are you doing here?" I growled as the woman stepped from the shadows. She was pale, and unbelievably tall. Her long hair transitioned from red to blue.

She looked at me with eyes completely black "You left your farm, I was curious to see where you had gone." She tugged the white robes around herself. "Besides wasn't going to let you run off and possibly get yourself killed."

"Nobody can kill me, I'm already dead." I growled, it came out harsher than I intended and Bozo shot me a glare.

Ursula didn't bat an eye. She unsheathed her long sword from her back, placed it on the ground beside her as she sat down. "Well don't need anyone putting you permanently in the ground. I wouldn't be able to get my fresh brains from your garden."

"That's what you grow? Brains!?" Bozo's voice was raised in slight horror.

Ursula waved away his emotive words "Yes, yes, dear. He also a vineyard of delicious Ossis berries. A Sanguis pepper tree and Corvus eggs laid by his undead hens. He is the only being to ever get Corvus eggs. Ever!"

"Stop making it a big deal, Ursula. Bozo doesn't care."

She shot him an incredulous stare. "Your parents named you Bozo? That is messed up."

"That's not my..." Bozo shot me a look and his words died off. "Not my full title. It is Adventurer Bozo Esquire."

"Oh, an Esquire. I didn't realize we were being fancy here." She rose to her full height and then dipped into a curtesy, pulling the sides of her robes up like a princess. "I am Ursula Plain One of the Bone Order." She turned towards me "And may I introduce Elric the Farmer of the Dead."

“We’re just a bunch of evil undead to him.” I waved away her words "Nothing you just said matters to the kid.”

“That’s not true!” Bozo countered. Though his face flushed on my words. He attempted to make it appear he had intended to ask this question from the beginning. “What does Plain One of the Bone Order mean?”

“A Plain One is the highest elite within the undead hierarchy, it is a rank and title. ” I shot Ursula a glance, she gave a nod of permission and I explained “The Bone Order are a cast of undead that specialize in ending the existence of unruly undead.”

Bozo looked between us both, his mind racing as he tried to collect this new information and compile it into some type of logic “You mean she is an expert at killing undead?”

“She is a master at exterminating undead. And living, so don’t get any ideas.” I said dryly.

Ursula threw a twig at me. “Don’t go scaring the lad.” She shot him a playful wink “Would you mind getting some firewood so that I can start a fire? While the farmer here doesn’t care about the cold some of us will freeze to death.”

“Oh, absolutely!” The knight said, jumping to his feet.

Ursula watched the young man hurry off into the shadows, wincing when she heard him stumble over a bush. “He’s out of earshot. Now I would appreciate an explanation. You are well outside the boundaries of the grave grounds. Even further from your farm. What is going on?”

“He came to kill me.”

The Plain One rolled her eyes "This isn't like you to mind, people try to kill you at least once a week."

"But those are generally the undead, I kill them and they reanimate in a day or two and run away with their tails between their legs. This was a living killer." I didn’t meet her eyes, instead pretending to be very intrigued by my curling nails.

"You fight a living at least twice a year.” She countered “Again not odd. Why is this different?"

"He is a novice. He got through the gates that should have stopped him. He survived all the way to my farm, made it through the canyons of the festering worms, somehow skipped getting possessed by the green ossis, too many things to count..."

"Oh." Ursula breathed the word as she processed this glaringly concerning omission.

I ran my fingers through the purple strands of hair on my head "Right?"

"But that's impossible!" blue and red haired woman argued.

"Right?! He is an impossibility. I've exposed him to a few different undead and all of them have acted like he isn't there. Undead should be unable to ignore a living, by nature they want to feast. Warren attacked twice and didn't even notice him. Buggy didn't attempt anything either. She can't control herself even around a three-month dead and buried corpse."

"So, he represents something bigger and it worries you?"

"Yes, because this stinks of a freaking epic adventure where a horrible villain and his army has to be defeated. If I sit and wait for this to story build to the climax then it'll ruin my harvest season. Better to nip this in the bud before it gets any more momentum."

"You are investigating all of this so your harvest isn't spoiled." The tone of her voice made it clear how she felt about my priorities. “Do you realize what happens if the lich king knows you are away? He will send out his armies again! He will turn this world into grave dirt and maggots!”

I raised a disbelieving eyebrow “You are exaggerating. Andrest may have been that way a while ago, now he is enjoying the luxury of his rotting kingdom.”

“He was that way a few hundred thousand years ago right after you died and locked the death realms, in the last five hundred years he is restless again. And he will tear from that castle as fast as the West Wind if he knows his warden is missing.” The woman explained attempting to keep her voice patient.

I was stubborn, finding the flaw in her exaggeration “It hasn’t been that long since I died.”

“It has!” she exclaimed in frustration. Her tone causing me to pause, she never spoke like this, she was always light and whimsical, she was never like this, this cold serious murderer who had earned the title of Plain One. Her words were colder than frost iron “And you just sit there in your rocking chair and sip your cider. You’re hiding like a coward, Laslilus would be ashamed of you!”

Her words lashed like a whip through the air and I felt my teeth click together at her cruel accusation. I pressed my eyes closed attempting to keep my emotions in check as I met her eyes now “Careful with your words, Ursula. You know what I am.”

“Yes.” She touched her hand to the hilt of her sword, the muscles beneath her skin tensed like a cat. She kept her onyx black eyes locked with mine. “I am fully aware what you are. And it doesn’t make you any less of a coward.”

“I wonder which of us would survive.” I mused. I meant to make my voice light, but it emerged deadpan. As the slithering set of sounds slipped between my teeth my power unleashed itself without my bidding. Around her skeletons emerged from the shadows, each with eyes the same as mine. As they drew closer the darkness within their sockets started to flicker with stars of the same color as my flame.

Ursula kept her eyes locked with mine. “You would throw away our friendship over something so small me mentioning your wife?”

“You think that Laslilus is small? You were formed from death. You have existed from time immemorial and yet you are so much less than any of the living. You have the audacity to use her name as a weapon and try to fault me for responding in kind?” The trees started to creak as the bark twisted into faces of anguish. “You will never speak my wife’s name again. The only reason you still stand is because of our friendship. Be grateful for my frail human compassion.”

And just like that my anger was gone, the skeletons turned to dust and blew away in a light breeze, the trees returning to their original forms and I was left glaring at Ursula.

She looked away, ending the staring contest. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Well, you were never rude before.” I shot back adjusting the strap of my bib overalls.

I was interrupted from further discussion as Bozo re-entered the clearing with a look of uncertainty in his countenance. “Did either of you see a bunch of trees turn into monsters?”

Ursula’s expression was neutral “That would be the Farmer’s doing, hand me the firewood. “