Butter descended the tower steps, her mind adrift with Adoncia, Snow, and the two Fingers trailing after her. Her thoughts swayed between the echoes of Seg’tharis’ tale and her own bubbling self-doubt—connecting to Utelira’s Divine Force was unlocking mysteries within her soul and giving her questions that needed to be answered.
A lesson that’s as old as time… There is always a bigger fish in the ocean. Priss is so careful with how she proceeds… Methodical. There certainly are things I can learn from you, Sister, and perhaps that is why this life feels so different. I know we are enemies. You know we are enemies. Yet, we’ve come to tolerate one another. Being linked to your soul on such a foundational level has given me insights I seem to have not anticipated.
The cost of change, I suppose… She reached up to cup her chin, her focus shifting to process the gradual decline of the Death Energy in the stone fortress now that the Susime’s death god had passed onto his next life. How unexpectedly predictable, she mused, her aquamarine eyes narrowing slightly.
The cool stone of the last step pressed against her bare foot, snapping her out of her reverie. Something inside her shifted, a faint pulse from the Eye of Utelira, a resonant hum that rippled through her core.
This is new… No, it’s not.
She stopped mid-step, her hand instinctively brushing the necklace hidden under her top—something was bleeding out of some deep recess within her.
Before she could fully process it, her surroundings blurred, and suddenly, she wasn’t in the death-soaked fortress anymore. Instead, Butter found herself overlooking a sprawling city—gleaming white towers, intricate bridges woven from pale stone, and streets that seemed to glow faintly under a violet sky.
The Forbidden City of the dawn elf empire…
Knowledge latched onto her like claws sinking into her brain, Utelira stirring again within her prison. With the jewel facing inward toward her chest, the sharp pulse that emanated from the Supreme Chief cut right through the center of her soul to strike something buried deep within.
My previous life with Priss… When I was Ashrit.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt the ground shift beneath her. In the blink of an eye, she was inside an opulent room, her reflection staring back at her from a perfect diamond mirror. The fountain beside her bubbled with sapphire water, cool and refreshing, yet Butter’s gaze was locked on the figure in the mirror—her figure.
Golden skin, sharp, refined features that speak of royalty, she internally noted, processing for the first time a clear image of who she’d been once upon a time. Yet, one feature made her soul squirm for some reason, her sister’s smirking face flashing across her mind
My eyes…lime-green, wide. Her hand automatically rose to touch the area beneath her right eye. It feels…wrong. Something is wrong with this version of me. Something is…disjointed, like pieces of a puzzle trying to force themselves together.
The room vanished again, but the unsettling feeling lingered as she stood above a sea of humans—millions—all of them dead. Humans who had bowed to her only three months ago, but were now under her twin sister’s rule.
How? This doesn’t feel like…me, Butter internally whispered, overlooking the carnage. I conquer but I don’t commit genocide.
She could feel her hatred and disgust boiling beneath the surface, all directed toward one individual: the night elf, Irkalla.
Butter’s lip curled in distaste, reliving thoughts that appalled her. “That mistake should have died in the womb, her twisted purple skin touching mine… An outcast from birth. And yet, of course, she’d survived, thriving in the shadows. One mistake from that traitorous king that thought of himself as my father. He couldn’t kill her with his own hand or keep his dick in his pants and away from the scum night crawler queen.”
The question gnawed at her, like it always did. “How hard is it to kill an eight year old?! Eleven years later, I’ve given assassins and bounties their easy path to riches for long enough. How many heads and bodies has she piled up? Now she thinks it’s cute to take a kingdom away from me? Well. How well did that turn out for you, Sister?”
Her fingers brushed the small and somewhat fresh cut beneath her eye, a mark from their first true battle the previous night. “I suppose you do share the same blood as me, despite our mother’s filthy skin. I’m perfect. A goddess incarnate. Yet you managed to cut me… Well, we can’t have that.”
She turned her cold eyes to the heavens with a scowl, her guardians and personal guard shifting nervously around her as storm clouds began to gather, reflecting her mood.
“Are you watching, Father? Do you see what you’ve wrought through your weakness? I’ve expanded your empire three-fold since I executed you myself for your crimes against our race. It is a wonder you managed to sire someone like me. Maybe I was too harsh on you and the slutty night elf queen bewitched you with her magic. I’ll sort it out when I reach the heavens.”
Her grip tightened around the extravagant spear she held, forged of starmetal and enhanced by the greatest mages in the empire. And yet, it hadn’t helped her when she’d lured her twin away, intending to end her father’s mistake quietly.
Butter smirked internally at her previous incarnation’s frustration. Well, that didn’t seem to work out for you, sweetie, did it. You retreated, and with a wound at that. Oof. I’d be pissed, too, but you should have known Priss is a lot tougher than that.
A festering sense of pride stung in Butter’s chest, feeling the ghost-like claws digging into her chest; it was as if she were arguing with herself. “I could have crushed her, but that night…something was different. I had everything. I have powers she couldn’t dream, trained from birth in the art of war and magic. There was something deeper that she used…something primal that made my blood boil.”
Excuses. Excuses. I was such a whiny bitch! Oh, are you not done throwing a tantrum? Butter sighed, rolling her non-existent eyes as her body moved on its own to overlook the slaughtered human kingdom. Maybe I can’t fault you for never having to work for anything. I had to work my wings off to just restore my soul from what you did to us. She used her raw spiritual force that she’d tempered. It’s obvious. While you relied on magic and items.
“It’s not like I could have known that then. You’re an idiot for working with her. She named you after fat! Do you have no pride? I did this to make a statement to her. One week it took her to subjugate this human kingdom from me… I slaughtered it in one day.”
Oh! Are we doing this, Green Eyes? Butter snorted, feeling disgusted while observing the mountains of human corpses her dawn elf soldiers piled up. You’re a fool if you think this would have an effect on Priss. She lives for death. If anything, this empowered her. But you’re all the way up your own ass with how superior you are. You can’t think of her as your equal and that is your fault.
“…I may have my faults. I will admit that. Irkalla was more than your Elinor will ever be. If I were in your shoes, it would be her kneeling before me.”
Fire rose in Butter’s words. I don’t kneel before Priss and she doesn’t kneel before me. As I see it, we’re equals, though I have had to pay rent to her, so to speak, which is…uncomfortable. I will not deny that. However, I see her as my sister. That counts for something to me. You failed. I will not.
A short chuckle shook her past self’s chest as one of her generals raced up the wet, blood-soaked stairway to the castle doors. “We shall see. You are far more vulnerable than you seem to believe.”
“High Queen Ashrit, the fugitive has been spotted walking down the road. The soldiers are waiting for your command.”
“Good. I hope she enjoyed the renovations I’ve made to her new kingdom.” Lightning cracked overhead as the dark clouds continued to gather; the rain would fall shortly. “Line the streets with soldiers. For every meter of ground she takes, send a soldier to confront her. Let’s see how much that mysterious power she has can last.”
Butter sighed. I’m guessing this first real confrontation between us in our last world is only the beginning of our story. I can see why Priss hated me so much if this was what I was like… Where’s the charm? Hmm. Maybe it’s just this moment that is painting me in a bad light… I hope it is.
The lightning flashed, and suddenly it was nighttime, rain pouring down on them. Standing at the foot of the bloody stairs was a smooth-skinned night elf, emanating an unholy aura, the pattering of rain falling around them.
“You will lose everything for us.”
The air around her shimmered with another rumble of thunder, the image fading back into the present. Her foot touched the stone. Irkalla’s intimidating presence still pressing in on her chest. The kingdom her twin had stolen was lost to time now, crushed by Ashrit’s command, the streets caked with human blood to set a tone for that world.
Her steps echoed as she moved forward, descending further into the fortress, but her mind lingered on the vision of Irkalla. She’d sensed that primal connection between Elinor and her when she’d first opened her eyes…but Irkalla, that felt like something different, something indomitable.
Maybe there is something to Ashrit’s words… So much fog surrounding our past and who we are. What I felt from that night elf might even make Elinor shiver… That being said, I cannot close my eyes to what I’ve seen and feel in our current life. It’s worth exploring.
A silent chuckle shook her chest as she turned her gaze to the high windows, feeling the sun drawing nearer. The burning questions rose with it, bubbling up with curiosity more than fear. In truth, the most frightening part was how free and fearless she was becoming.
Is she having any visions like this? Why are we even fighting? Who stands to gain from this bitter rivalry? Heavy curtains sway within me, whispers from my past urging me to smother her to oblivion…but where will we go when either of us drift away?
Her vision wandered with her restless spirit, feeling the wilting power draining from the fortress walls. Why has the universe pitted us against each other? There has to be a reason for it because…honestly, and call me a fool all you wish, Astrit, but I’m growing quite fond of my sister. I won’t close my eyes to what could be.
Butter’s hand rested lightly on the banister as she descended the final steps of the tower. Utelira settled down, causing the gap that had opened deep within her soul to seal shut again. A small smile brightened her cheeks.
Maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.
Butter’s gaze flicked to the tall, imposing door ahead that opened without touch, their faint echoing footsteps falling in perfect rhythm with those behind her. She walked through the stone halls of the death fortress, now hers to do with what she pleased. Naturally, she had to first deal with the opposition, and what better way than to further develop her forces?
The faintest ripple of energy stirred through the Nexus, prickling against her senses like static as she followed her maid’s conversation with White and Mika. The ri’bot warrior was stunned she’d won over the fort without a fight but little did she know that it had been a battle, of sorts. The death entity had been testing her the entire time to see if she’d falter in channeling his sister’s power at such levels.
Snow’s presence lingered at her side, tentative but resolute, while Adoncia moved with purpose, the faint shimmer of Death Energy still clinging to the undead woman: little did she know the gift that had been bestowed upon her in Seg’tharis’ passing.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The air in the hallway was heavy, thick with the mood of her new citizens as they approached the doorway overlooking the courtyard. Butter’s fingers brushed along the cold stone wall, her smile broadening slightly when they opened on their own, welcoming her.
She stepped out onto the platform, meant to address the death cult. The Death Raiders awaited her, their souls already stirring in response to Seg’tharis’ absence in the keep. She could feel their uncertainty simmering.
The First Finger approached her side, his bony frame stiff, eyes downcast. The second-in-command’s raspy whisper didn’t leave her ear, “High Queen, the Death Raiders stand ready. Shall I… What is your command?”
Butter’s lips curled. “Yes, tell Lokar to bring Nergath. It’s time for him to face judgment. We wouldn’t want to keep Seg’tharis waiting too long.”
All eyes locked onto them, their instruments of life eroding power glowing with emerald light shifting in their hands. The First Finger bowed deeply, his hunched frame shuffling forward, murmuring words that seemed to weave through the air like a deathly song. It reached every corner of the fortress, slipping into the ears of the ri’bot under her dominion.
Butter watched the ripple of recognition spread like a storm cloud, an unspoken command that passed through their souls, as the elite guard moved in response.
One of the lieutenants vanished in a swirl of green mist. She tilted her head, the smallest flicker of curiosity crossing her face as she surveyed the courtyard. Soon they would learn why she was here, standing before them with their First and Second Finger.
Snow hovered beside her, that uncertainty again flashing in her eyes, though she remained silent; she knew the woman was taking in every action she made, committing it to memory.
Butter’s smile softened as Adoncia’s worry grew stronger.
“Her legs are shaking, High Queen.”
No need to worry, Blue Eyes. Snow is doing fine. Well, actually, she is not doing fine, but will when exerting herself…or her soul will collapse on itself. I’ve calculated the risks and solutions. Things I shouldn’t know are blooming within me the more I draw upon Utelira’s power, for better and for worse.
“Sorry. I don’t mean to doubt you,” she mumbled, trying not to fidget. “I’m just really looking forward to getting in contact with Earth again.”
Oh? Do you want to return? Butter mused, making the maid stiffen and strain a laugh.
“No! Sorry. No. My little brother and parents are at the Wixum Lake. I’m just hoping to get a few things from Earth that will better help us make things…easier for a lot of the humans. I don’t have a lot of problems with…girl issues due to being undead. There are a lot of suffering women and teens that could use some modern medicine that the witches can deconstruct and create something more lasting.”
I like that thought process… I’m sure we’ll be able to get everything we could want, she said with a light chuckle, further causing the maid’s nerves to rise.
Moments passed, the air thickening as tension crackled through the Nexus, Mika getting more antsy by the minute. Then, Lokar appeared from one of the black doors, a hulking figure with darkened scale armor glistening under the dim light, possibly crafted from one of the creatures killed on the other side of the Crystal.
Nergath was shoved forward in his wake, stripped of his vestments and bindings, a figure of meek presence, but with a pride that no doubt infuriated Lokar. Butter could almost taste the confusion rolling off the First Finger of the Left as he stepped forward, glancing around, his eyes flicking upward.
“The Radiant Eminence? Where…is the Head?” Lokar growled, his voice filled with a suspicious edge as his gaze scanned the assembled ri’bot. “I felt Seg’tharis’ unholy presence leave the fortress, but the Head is…”
The First Finger of the Right stepped forward, his frail form standing tall with an unexpected authority as his raspy voice silenced the leader of the warriors. “Seg’tharis, his everlasting unholiness, has decreed…” The ri’bot’s voice rang out, hollow and echoing. “The Head…is Butter, High Queen of the Evening Star.”
A ripple of murmurs spread like wildfire. The cult followers bristled, anger flashing across a few faces as the words settled in.
Centuries—no, millennia of strict adherence to the old order, and now this? Butter could see the discontent bubbling just beneath the surface, their minds racing with disbelief at the abrupt change in leadership, and by the Radiant Eminence.
But she was prepared for this. Her smile widened, almost playful.
She raised her voice, the lilting cadence of her words cutting through the tension. “Oh, I understand the hesitation, truly I do.”
Butter paused to get their attention, clasping her hands behind her back.
“This isn’t exactly orthodox, now is it? A new Head, and not just any Head. But I assure you. Seg’tharis’ wishes were clear, as spoken by his Right Finger. He chose me as his final act before he passed into the great unknown…”
She suppressed a giggle at the irony, her words taking on a brighter note for just a moment to proclaim the ‘achievement’ of obtaining death to these followers, who were brought back time and time again by the Life Cult to act as their sword.
“I’m here to fulfill his last command.”
Her tone shifted, sharper, though not without its charm. “I’m not one to ignore discontent, either. Your concerns are valid, my people.” She gestured to the gathered ri’bot, her expression turning serious. “So let’s settle this in the way the Death Cult does best… Through sacrificial combat.”
Lokar’s narrowed eyes mixed with his grin while rolling around his shoulder, his muscles rippling. “An apt way to determine the Head of Seg’tharis. With you, then…Head?”
Butter let out a light, musical laugh. “Oh no, dear, no. Not with me. I’m far too busy for that.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she shifted her posture to look to her right. “But my champions? Yes, they’ll be enough.”
Snow’s vision flew open in slight panic, her messy hair weaving with her head motions. Adoncia, on the other hand, grinned and stepped forward. Her oni horns grew as she summoned her kanabō club, hefting it over her shoulder, the thick air of death energy crackling around her.
Lokar’s mouth creased. “You will follow the will of Seg’tharis through who is not taken?”
“Exactly!” Butter chimed. “And should my champions send yours to Seg’tharis, then we’ll all know the truth, won’t we?” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Perhaps Seg’tharis prefers…new leadership after all. Maybe…you, Lokar?”
The words hung in the air like a damning curse, the silence that followed even heavier than before. The Death Raiders exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of centuries of loyalty hanging over their heads like a guillotine. For a moment, no one moved. Then, a dozen stepped forward, their faces set with grim determination, ready to answer Lokar’s claim.
Butter clapped her hands together, breaking the silence with a light laugh. “And there you have it. In the sight of your brothers, the Fingers of the Left and Right, and Seg’tharis himself…” Her smile turned wicked. “Let the answer be told by the fallen.”
Her gaze shifted, locking on Adoncia. “You’re up first, Blue Eyes.”
Adoncia nodded, stepping forward while setting her club against the wall and stretching her arms high over her head, twisting left and right to create popping sounds throughout the area.
“I won’t fail you, High Queen. In fact, I feel invincible.”
Snow paled slightly, her voice shaking as she mumbled, “Wait, High Queen, I already fought them… I’m not…I’m not at their level!”
Butter paused, her back turned as she began to walk away. She glanced over her shoulder, a gentle smile on her lips. “Oh, Snow, you’ve grown far more than you realize. That little Seed inside you? It’s just waiting to bloom.” Her eyes gleamed, and she winked. “Level 20 is around the corner. And you’re not done growing yet…we’ll talk more when I return. Oh!”
She glanced at the Second Finger of the Right and added, “Make sure Nergath gets a good seat during the ritual. He is a witness, and when it’s done, send him down to the dungeon to deliver the results… I’ll be waiting.”
She could feel Snow’s soul trembling beneath the surface, the pressure mounting within her.
She’ll crack soon if she doesn’t push harder, Butter thought, her smile fading slightly as she entered the fortress to follow the weak, pulsing embers of life she felt guiding her through the halls. The Greater Seed she absorbed…she’s going to need to break it open, or it’ll crush her. Anything less than this, then not even Priss could bring her back since there will be nothing left of her spirit.
As Butter moved deeper, Adoncia’s voice echoed through the Nexus, laced with mild complaint. “High Queen, it’s cruel to put me against them… You know I can absorb Death Energy.”
Butter’s grin widened as she responded, her voice teasing. “Oh, that’s not typical of your fellow undead, sweetie… That little gift? Seg’tharis granted it to you in his passing. By the way, you best tell Snow to boost up her Stats and look over her Feats while you’re drawing their attention. She’ll need all the help she can get.”
The shock in Adoncia’s silence was palpable, leaving her two champions to prove their worth. Mika and White would have their turn soon enough. Not all of the Fingers had chosen to answer the call, and the presence of death was now rising through the stone walls.
Isn’t it funny? When the brain is lopped off, the body just thrashes. Were you a chicken and not a toad, Seg’tharis?
Her humorous chuckles bounced through the corridors as Butter disappeared into the shadows. The cold air clinging to her the further down she went until she found herself in an ominous, cramped prison. Cells of barely living creatures lined the area, the stones themselves sapping their strength.
Butter moved deeper into the fortress, following the weak pulse of Life Force that guided her. The oppressive atmosphere of decay surrounded her, the walls almost humming with the energy of countless souls drained by the Death Raiders throughout numerous generations.
The stone beneath her feet was cold, and the light from the glowing stones dimmed as she descended into the bowels of the fortress.
She approached the deepest chamber, past the cages and shackled prisoners of the Crystal conquest until reaching a small room lined with chains that sang with the last vestiges of the life they’d held. There, suspended by those chains, was a young ri’bot woman—Irida, the Head of the Life Cult.
Her pure golden skin had paled, and her eyes remained closed in a state of enforced meditation. Butter stood before her for a time, studying the woman who had kept the Susime alive for untold generations. A responsibility she’d carried from her predecessor, no doubt.
Butter glanced to her left, where a human skeleton lay, left scattered across the floor—her sister’s body. Finally, I have everything I need to truly live again… Soon. I’ll take my first real breath since dying as Ashrit. I’ll have my own lungs… I’ll be able to feel whole again.
Brushing back her liquid gold hair, she moved forward and reached out with her Life Force, sending a pulse through the room and shattering the chains that bound Irida, sending the woman to the hard stone.
Curling in, Irida stirred, her eyes fluttering open as the pulse of Life Energy struck, forcing her out of the meditative trance she’d entered to sustain herself. She blinked and slowly raised her body, goosebumps cascading down her arms when her gaze fell on her. Recognition dawned in her weary eyes, mixed with confusion.
“You…are not what I expected when I gave Nergath the Eye,” she mumbled, but there was a strength behind it that Butter found amusing as the toad forced herself to lean against the wall behind her. “Has our time come? Have I succeeded…or failed?”
Butter tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint smile as she moved to sit in front of the dying pillar of the Life Cult. “You have failed. It’s time for you to wake up, Irida. You were always meant to fail, and now… Your judgment day has come. The Radiant Eminence is here to restore balance… I have come to make things right.”
“So, this is the path the twins have chosen.”
Butter’s aquamarine eyes narrowed while darting to the left, where a cloud of mist seeped out of the brick. It parted, revealing an aged, gray-skinned ri’bot, sitting on a simple wooden stool that hadn’t been there previous.
A pipe with two openings rested on his palm, fixed between his delicate webbed fingers and lavish red silk adorned his figure. “Had I not warned you, Irida?”
Irida’s body shook as she forced a weak laugh as Butter observed the intruder, yet it was the diamond and milky stone inside his pipe that snatched her attention—trapped elemental force in the same manner the Supreme Chiefs had been imprisoned.
“Spokesperson Jet’al… Has the Prume finally decided to take action now that we have become so weak?”
The name sparked memories in Butter’s mind regarding the clans of the valley, drawing her curiosity. “The Prume would be the faction of ri’bot to the west of the Flex and south of the Delthax, correct? I’m afraid no one has much to say about your isolated cliffs. It’s my pleasure! What can I do for you?”
Jet’al brought the pipe to his mouth, showing his three teeth on either side of his mouth while drawing in a deep breath that lit up the diamond before releasing a puff of mist from his mouth. The fancy toad showed a smile, though his soft words held a melancholy note of pity while observing Irida.
“Hope…dangles on a string, like slow-spinning redemption, winding in and winding out…the shine of it has caught my eye,” he whispered, his gaze shifting from the uncomfortable Head of the Life Cult to the jewel hidden under her top. “It’s roped me in, so mesmerizing… I am certain now that I am vindicated.”
His focus moved to Butter’s eyes, his enigmatic smile showing relief that confused her. “I’m not here to interfere with your plans, High Queen. They may be selfish, flawed…wrong, but they are cleaning up so well. I will be in-touch when you begin exploring Ke’Thra’Ma’s legacy. For the voices who cannot speak, I thank you for the tender mercies you have shown.”
Swirling fog shifted him to the opposite side of the room, beside Elinor’s human corpse. “Consider this a gift from the Prume for your actions. With this, a rotten branch has been burned and purified. Be grateful, Irida… There is hope.”
She hummed as the diamond glowed, the gems in his pipe broke, and Jet’al, Spokesperson of the Prume, slipped away in a haze of fog. Tears welled up inside Irida’s eyes as her body began to quake.
Butter pressed her fingers against the fabric of her top, feeling the smooth jewel against her skin while picking apart his words. However, a sharp rise in Death Energy drew her attention to the black stones as they illuminated with a sickly green glow.
Drawing from Utelira’s power, she generated a golden dome around them, a small smile lifting her lips. “So many surprises… It seems the other Fingers have made their move. White and Mika will have fun. In the meantime…”
Butter turned her attention to the weeping gold-skinned ri’bot in front of her. “Why don’t you fill in the gaps for me so I can fix this mess? As Jet’al said, there is hope, and I am here to bring it to you, in judgment and grace,” she finished, reaching forward to lift the woman’s head up to look at her. “Tell me your sins, so I can free you.”