Erazon’s breath caught as he stepped into the chamber, where time itself seemed to stand still. Darkness swallowed him, vast and oppressive. The floor shifted subtly with each step, smooth and reflective like black glass. Above, constellations shimmered—though these weren’t ordinary stars. They twisted into the shapes of forgotten gods, celestial eyes seemingly fixed on the meeting below.

Ahead, something loomed—ancient and vast. More force of nature than being, Lord Death stood, draped in shadows. Ethereal chains hung from an unseen ceiling, massive and translucent, fading in and out of existence. Occasionally, they rattled, as if tugged by some unseen force from beyond. Pulses of light coursed through the links, a reminder of the power he held over life and death.

"You have awoken, Mistwalker." His voice rumbled, low and thunderous, filling the chamber. "You stand at the edge of eternity. Life and death, light and shadow, order and chaos—all threads meet here. This is where the balance of all things is weighed."

"So... this is it?" Erazon swallowed hard, glancing around. "I’m dead?" He paused, dread tightening in his chest. "What happened to my friends? To Wild-Wizard? To the knight?"

"Your body lies cold, but your soul remains tethered," Lord Death replied, his form still, shrouded in living shadows. "Your friends live—for now."

"But not for long." The words twisted his gut. "Not with him out there hunting them down. I failed them... I failed everyone..." His voice echoed hollowly in the vast space. "How long have I been here, watching this?"

"Godric and Elizza believe they can escape," the grim voice continued. "But the king’s shadow is long. They will not find safety unless something changes. Even now, more guards move into the city. The King has declared Carlin a magic-free zone."

"A magic-free zone?" Anger and regret surged through Erazon. "They’ll be defenseless!" He clenched his fists. "I wasted time. I should’ve fought harder, learned more magic, gained more power. Instead, I threw my life away—without understanding any of this."

"It was not fated for you to die this day." Lord Death’s voice grew colder, reverberating with ancient authority. "The Death Warrant bore another’s name. It was not foreseen that you would interfere with fate so soon."

"Who?" Erazon's gaze snapped to the figure before him. "Solena?" The name left his lips like a prayer. "She was supposed to—" He faltered, mind racing. "She’s still alive, right?" Frustration boiled over. "What power do you keep speaking of? I can barely summon fire... and I had to make a deal with the devil to do it!"

"You interfered with threads of fate beyond your understanding." The skeletal gaze pierced through him. "Wild-Wizard has twisted destiny’s course. Solena is alive... but your power, I cannot fully reveal to you. Your memories must return in time." His tone darkened. "The unspoken vow with Pyridion is dangerous. He opposes the Nine, seeking only to awaken his master. It may serve you now, but be wary. Do not lose yourself to its allure."

Erazon ran a hand through his hair, exasperation etched on his face. "I don’t understand how I could interfere with fate. If I see a friend in danger, I’ll try to help them!" He shook his head. "But it seems I’ve paid the ultimate price. I didn’t have what it takes to stop him." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm tired of riddles and half-truths. The fire titan warned me of lies—from you or Aeolex. What are you gods hiding?" His eyes hardened, defiance shining through. "All I want is to help my friends and save Carlin from Wild-Wizard. How did he get so strong?"

"I serve neither good nor evil," came the response after a moment’s pause. "I maintain the scales. When balance is disturbed, calamity follows. You are more than a wizard; power lies within you yet to be realized." Shadows deepened around Lord Death as he continued. "As for Wild-Wizard... He was my lieutenant, aiding in maintaining balance. His ambition grew. He stole the Death Scythe and killed the God of Reincarnation, disrupting the cycle."

The revelation hit Erazon like a hammer. "He killed... a god?" The words stumbled out, disbelief etched in every syllable. "No wonder that scythe was terrifying." His fists clenched. "How can I stand against him now?" A bitter laugh escaped. "If only I had another chance..."

With a slow turn, Lord Death began walking deeper into the chamber. Erazon hesitated, then followed, his mind racing. "What happened when the cycle of reincarnation was broken?" he asked, glancing at the towering shadows around them. "What does that mean for the world?"

"Much has changed since that day." The voice grew darker. "Now, when souls die, their magic dies with them. Instead of powerful mages being reborn, they sometimes linger as vengeful ghosts, trapped on the mortal plane, or they wait in purgatory, hoping for judgment."

The chains overhead rattled softly, punctuating the words. "I judge the souls I can, guiding them to what comes next. But this is only a temporary measure. Without the cycle, the magic in the world slowly dries up. The gods themselves weaken, and lands once fertile become barren. Worse still, shadows from the Mist invade, bringing death and decay."

A chill crept up Erazon's spine. "So, it's not just Carlin... not just Solena," he muttered, piecing it together. "The entire world is in danger."

"Yes." Lord Death nodded, his skeletal form looming amidst the statues of the Nine. "The shadows spread like a plague, fueled by the imbalance. As the Nine weaken, their domains begin to falter. Without reincarnation, magic decays, and the balance tips further toward ruin."

Passing another statue, the figure continued, "Your friend, Solena, is bound by a dark curse. The Scythe that Wild stole from me grants unimaginable power. With it, he transformed into an undead and learned to control mortal minds. Solena has been under its influence since she was a child."

"Is there a way to break her curse?" He stopped, chest tightening. Desperation crept into his voice. "Can you take me back? I'll do anything to save her."

Silence filled the chamber, heavy and unnerving, as if the very walls held their breath. Finally, Lord Death spoke, his voice echoing with ancient authority. "There is one way," he said slowly, "but it comes with a great price."

"I’ll pay it," Erazon replied, not missing a beat. "What do I have to do?"

"Steel yourself." The skeletal figure turned to face him, eyes like endless voids. "You must bring me the souls I seek."

His heart skipped a beat. "Souls?" The tremor of disbelief crept into his tone. "You mean... I have to kill for you?"

"Wild, the King, and any who oppose you." The gaze remained unwavering. "The balance must be restored."

"I... I don't know if I can." A hard swallow, his voice cracking. "I’m not strong enough..."

"I offer you power," Death intoned, the words tolling like a bell in the silence. "The choice is yours."

"My friends... they need me." His voice softened to a whisper. "Whose souls?"

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Wild, the King, and any who stand in your way." Lord Death’s tone was unflinching. "Will you submit to this task?"

A shiver ran through him. "I... don’t have a choice." The words tasted bitter on his tongue. "If they’ll die without me, then I’ll do it."

A nod of acknowledgment came from Lord Death. "I will grant you life, power, and a pact. Fulfill this mission."

"And Solena?" Erazon’s eyes burned with urgency. "How do I free her?"

"Wild siphons power from Orlithar, a sorcerer imprisoned beneath Carlin’s guild," Lord Death explained. "Free him, and you may find your answer. Solena maintains his imprisonment, drawing from his power."

"I can’t let him control her anymore." Resolve hardened in Erazon’s eyes. "She deserves to live free."

They walked on, statues of gods looming around them. "What about the monk?" Erazon asked quietly, his thoughts drifting to his fallen comrade.

"Motus Kiatsu is among mortal men," came the reply. "Even now, he heals your friends. His death was an illusion, a mastery of his craft. You alone need return."

Silence settled between them as they continued, the weight of the mission pressing down on Erazon like a mountain. At last, they approached a statue shrouded in darkness.

"This is Nox," Death said, a hint of sadness threading his voice. "The God of Shadows, the one responsible for the Ghostlands."

"The Ghostlands..." Erazon shivered, his eyes fixed on the shadowed figure. "These gods... they're terrifying."

Their journey continued until they came to a statue bathed in light, a serene goddess. Her presence radiated warmth, a beacon of peace in the darkness. "Aurelia..her city is Luminael," Death explained. "It has been taken by the king’s men, though many still worship her. She is a light in the darkness, guiding those who seek healing."

His thoughts drifted to Elizza. "She said something to me," he murmured. "‘May Aurelia guide you’."

There was a faint flicker of approval from Lord Death. "She speaks wisely. Remember her words."

They walked on, reaching a statue encircled with chains of pure lightning. The air crackled with energy, making the hairs on his arms stand on end. "Who is this?" he asked, curiosity mingling with unease.

"The God of Lightning," came the reply. "He defied the heavens. It was I who ended his rebellion. His power now lies dormant, sealed within these chains."

A chill ran down his spine, not just from the electrifying energy that filled the air, but from the weight of the history revealed. He realized he was standing in the presence of a God that had once stood against Death itself—and failed.

A small chest opened at the statue’s foot, revealing a vial filled with crackling energy. "This is a gift," Death said, handing it to Erazon. "Use it only in your most dire moment. It may be the difference between life and death."

At last, they reached the end of the hall, where a long parchment unfurled itself on a table. The paper was ancient, yellowed with age, and covered in intricate, flowing script that seemed to dance and shift as Erazon tried to read it. The ink glowed faintly, a deep, dark red that hinted at something far more sinister than mere dye.

"This is the contract," The grim figure intoned, "It binds you to the task ahead. It ensures your return to the mortal realm, with the power you need to fulfill your mission. But know this, —by signing, you tie your fate to the balance of the world. Should you fail, the consequences will be absolute."

His heart pounded as he scanned the text, his gaze skipping over the countless stipulations and arcane terms. The sheer volume of it all was overwhelming, but he knew there was no other choice. "What happens if I sign this?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "What if I fail?"

"If you fail," Death intoned coldly, "the balance will be shattered, and you will be lost to the void, your soul adrift in endless darkness. But if you succeed, you will restore order, protect those you love, and perhaps find the answers you seek."

Faces flashed through his mind—Godric, Elizza, Solena—all of them in danger, all of them needing him. Weighing the cost, he took a deep breath and steadied himself. Whatever the price, he would pay it.

With a firm stroke, Erazon signed his name. The parchment glowed brightly before rolling itself up and vanishing. Lord Death’s skeletal hands reached out, sealing the contract with a dark, glowing symbol that faded into the ancient paper before disappearing into his robes.

"Your commitment is noted," Lord Death said. "Now, for the tool that will aid you."

The air in the chamber shifted, growing lighter as a small vial materialized in the skeletal hand. Inside, a tiny winged creature buzzed furiously, her purple and blue wings beating against the glass with such intensity that the vial shook slightly.

"LET ME OUT, YOU BONE-BAGGED BUFFOON!" a high-pitched voice shrieked from within. "I’LL TURN YOUR SKELETON INTO JELLY, YOU DUSTY OLD RELIC!"

A sigh, like the whisper of ancient winds through a graveyard, followed by the uncorking of the vial with a flick of a finger. The pixie shot out like a bolt of lightning, wings fluttering furiously as she hovered in the air, her tiny face scrunched up in a fierce glare.

"IF YOU EVER—AND I MEAN EVER—PUT ME IN THAT BOTTLE AGAIN, I’LL TURN YOUR SKULL INTO A FLOWERPOT!" Lumi spun in the air, hands on hips, eyes blazing with indignation.

The patient, albeit slightly exasperated, look from the grim figure in response. "Lumi, you were tearing pages from my most important books and turning them into paper airplanes. A little containment was necessary."

"Containment? Containment?! I was organizing your mess, you overgrown bony bookmark!" Lumi shot back, zipping closer to the skeletal face. "Those books were practically begging to fly! And those pages? They were just sitting there, all boring and stiff. I gave them a purpose!"

"A purpose?" An arched brow, if one had been there. "You were making a game of it, Lumi. Pages from the Codex of Eternal Wisdom are not meant to be folded into paper airplanes."

Lumi puffed out her chest, unrepentant. "Well, maybe if you weren’t such a dusty old relic, you’d appreciate a little fun! You can’t just sit in this gloomy chamber all day, reading those boring old tomes. You need some excitement!"

Erazon couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of the tiny pixie giving a piece of her mind to Death itself.

A gentle poke from a long, skeletal finger sent Lumi spinning in the air like a leaf caught in a breeze. "Now, now, little one. Behave. You will accompany Erazon on his quest, or it’s back in the bottle with you."

Lumi huffed, crossing her tiny arms and pouting. "Fine! But don’t think I’m going to like it!" She turned her glare on Erazon, sizing him up with narrowed eyes. "And you! You’d better not be as dull as Mr. Bones here, or I’ll turn you into a cabbage!"

Still amused, Erazon gave her a mock-serious nod. "I’ll do my best to keep things interesting."

The pixie flitted around him, inspecting him from head to toe. "Hmm… you don’t look like much, but I suppose you’ll do. At least you’re not completely hopeless." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Just mostly hopeless."

"Thank you," he replied dryly, though he couldn’t suppress a grin.

Satisfied with her inspection, Lumi turned back, her demeanor shifting to something almost businesslike. "Alright, alright, enough chit-chat. We’ve got an old, fat mage to save and a world to keep from burning! Let’s get moving before I grow roots standing here!"

The ancient entity, his patience evidently not yet worn thin by Lumi’s antics, gave her a solemn nod. "Very well, Lumi. Guide Erazon well, and remember what is at stake."

She waved her tiny hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. Keep him alive, save the world, yadda yadda. Now let’s go!" She darted to Erazon’s shoulder, perching there like a brightly colored bird. "Come on, Mistwalker! ”

Her wings buzzed with anticipation as she settled on his shoulder, her usual bravado momentarily subdued by the weight of the moment. Erazon looked back one last time, seeking any final hint of what lay ahead. The vast chamber around them was still, the distant constellations shimmering with an eerie calm.

The skeletal figure regarded him with an unreadable expression, hollow eyes reflecting the faint light of the stars above. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice softer now, yet carrying the weight of ages.

"Remember, Mistwalker, think for yourself. Question everything. "

As the final word left his lips, the chamber began to change. The stars above flickered, growing brighter, until they weren’t stars at all, but embers, glowing hot and fierce. The air thickened, the temperature rising as the walls of the chamber seemed to melt away, leaving Erazon standing in a vast, open forge, the ground beneath him glowing with molten heat.

The heat was intense, yet it did not burn. Instead, it wrapped around him, seeping into his very bones. Lumi’s eyes widened in surprise, but before she could say anything, the ground beneath them began to shift. The molten floor rippled like liquid metal, shaping itself into a pathway of glowing embers that stretched out before them.

Erazon felt an irresistible pull, not just on his body, but on his very soul, drawing him forward. Each step he took resonated with a deep, echoing clang, as if he were walking across a giant anvil, the forge of creation itself. The heat intensified with every step, the embers flaring brighter, until the world around him was a blinding sea of light and fire.

He glanced back at the fading shadows, a flicker of doubt lingering at the edge of his mind. But with Lumi perched on his shoulder and the weight of his vow anchoring his steps, he knew there was no turning back.

And then, just as suddenly, the heat vanished, replaced by the cool, familiar air of the mortal realm.