Chapter Text
I
Beryet was a simple man of the sea. He led an ordinary seafarer life at Serpentine Delta with ordinary aspirations and ordinary ship-welding skills.
Luck had it he passed away in a shipyard accident three scores ago, leaving behind his needy family to scramble without answers.
And his corpse to be taken by tenacious waves that dragged him far, far away.
The simple man held regret at the time of his passing. Penniless, unknown. And his soul clung onto his remnants drifting in the sea, where hungry fish pecked and nibbled bloated flesh for sustenance.
Moon phases shuffled a hundred times.
And he kept drifting.
Meaningless.
…needs you…
Deathsinger …
Then a song permeated the shallow waves of a shore he had languished in; a voice more potent than the loudest thunder.
A song to soothe his regret, to mourn his unmourned passing.
It called to him.
The Deathsinger’s requiem.
Three decades he spent on the dark isles living among the unbound, taken care of by the devout to the Mourner while his spirit gained strength to speak. A land of the dead still living whose collective goal was to act on their newfound meaning, be it a continuation of their former lives or a chance at exploring their potential… within reason.
To Beryet, this meaning in death was as ordinary as it had ever been in his mortal life: his family’s wellbeing.
Listening to the Deathsinger’s homilies, he learned how to approach this new life and embrace it with open arms.
He was taught to read and write by fellow spirits of the order, thus he traded correspondence with his family many times along the years. Shocked they were to hear from him, but slowly they accepted his fate and secretly sent him knickknacks from his old home.
With fellow fallen seafarers he would even brave the shore waters’ depths, finding trunks of ancient baubles which sold at shady markets in trade boats that paid his family a hefty inheritance.
There was meaning; there was community.
You are grateful …
…to him.
Join Aegis. Join the legion of Death.
This undeath was his life for a long, grateful time. Nonetheless, his purpose and meaning were coming to an expected end. And how better than to transcend in celebration of All Souls Night.
With his family provided for and feeling lighter in his soul for it, Beryet knew his stay was over.
He was ready to cross the Veil of Tears.
…protect…
Him.
Become his sword.
Abandon the afterlife you seek.
Standing at the cathedral’s courtyard where the crowd had gathered for festivities, Beryet began to doubt himself. He thought he heard whispers.
But -- they were his thoughts.
…weren’t they?
“I… can’t leave?”
You want to pay his generosity in kind …
“Give back.”
The Deathsinger has enemies you cannot ignore …
“Must protect.”
There is no higher purpose in death than to protect its emissary.
“Purpose.”