Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CH.1 AWAKENING

An old skeleton set down the old tome he had been reading for a time, now finished, on a cold stone desk. Where’s the next one? There had been two piles of scrolls and books on his right, and a pile for the finished works on his left. Every one of the knowledge-bound items was on his left.

"Do I need to go looking in the library again?"

The ancient Lich strided through the trapped hallways of his tomb. Was that skeleton always there? The Lich strided forward, subconsciously resurrecting the fallen trespasser. Likely The Lich made a comment unwittingly in his mind, such as; What great joint structure!

Many of the traps were sprung, and there were cobwebs littered all over his tomb. Skeletons he had raised permanently were gone. Only one remained standing, guarding the entrance to the library.

A small chill shivered down the Lich’s boney spine. He wore a dark blue tunic with a coffee colored shall, with baggy gray pants and no shoes—what was the point, he couldn’t feel anything at the bottom of his feet anyhow. On his nearly bare head was a crown made of bronze, that looked old and rusted. Tufts of unwithered curly brown hair stuck out of his head, stubborn, and refused to fall out. His left eye was fully intact, with a murky rotten sclera and a bright ruby red iris.

The skeleton at the door saluted the Lich as he passed, the sorcerer awkwardly returned the gesture. When the Lich opened the great wooden door, it fell, the snapping of rusted hinges echoed throughout the tomb.

Who has done this! Who was meant to take care of the library! The Lich was furious. Shelves had collapsed under the weight numerous tomes, scroll bags had fallen into the moisture filled halls, and so many books were on the ground. What happened to the Librarian! The Lich took an angry step forward,

CRUNCH

Oh, that's what happened. The librarian’s body was on the ground, his (or was it a her? No, look at that ribcage, definitely a male) skull now fractured into pieces under the heel of the Lich. How long have I been reading for?

The lich heard subtle steps behind him, only to find the skeleton in the hallway. Did I raise him? The lich furrowed his nonexistent brow. Oh well. “Congratulations—!” His voice was far hoarser than before. When was the last time I gave an order? “You are now head librarian. Fix the shelves and such… would you?” The new skeleton saluted and began picking the books off of the ground. The Lich strided through the grand library, smiling (well, not actually) at the grandeur of it—There were just SO many books!

The Lich began the search for new knowledge to gain. He started at the left most corner, and worked his way down.

The creation of false life by Zotikos Septimus Zeta
The renewal of the Occult by Zotikos Septimus Zeta
The bane of magic by Zotikos Septimus Zeta
The Lich cringed at the name. Who is this blowhard? Why do I have so many of his books? Well, at least they were interesting to read…
The travels of a warlock by Emerick the Evil
—Tryhard. The Lich thought. Such a stupid man. His theories never made sense.
On and on the Lich went, through every scroll and tome and books and parchment littered throughout the library.
Oddities in magic by “Ol” Otto Orlin
Spirits got you down? By Siegfried Crankerstein.
The bony sorcerer roamed through every book. Every. Single. Book.
Have I… read all of them? He questioned.
Yes. Yes I have.
The soft tapping of the new librarian was the only sound in the sardonic room.
What now?
.
.
.
I could…work on my codex? The lich left the library, the skeleton at the door saluted him again. He stopped. The new librarian was struggling to pull out a beam from a ruined shelf.

“Help the new librarian, would you?” The skeleton dropped his spear as if it were a broom, and shuffled into the library. The Lich stepped lightly around his tomb. Many of the rooms were bare—not from treasurer hunters, who’s skeletons littered the floors—but because the Lich wanted all of his artifacts to be within close proximity. Some things he could only hoard, whilst others he left as bait for adventurers.

“Regalia, Tolach, Manoch.” The Lich chanted three words in his favorite language—why it was his favorite, he didn’t remember—a magic circle appeared beneath him, taking the color a royal blue, scarlet, gold and green. Every corpse around was reanimated.

17?! When did 17 adventurers get in here!? The old Lich was shocked by the sheer amount of them—each missing limbs, many with fractures and even one was missing his skull. Have my senses truly been dulled? When was the last time I even faced a party? “Go to the Library, refurbish it if you can. If the books are ruined, do everything you can to preserve them.” The skeletons creaked and shuffled towards the library.

17!?

The Lich continued onwards into his office, a small, cluttered room with two comfy chairs and lodgings in the hall fitted for multiple familiars—who were all dead—but now were brimming with undead life at his spell. Each of them had a crystal in their eye, which allowed the Lich to gaze through them. Each of them were only bones. He had a dog, a snake, a rat, a vulture and a robin—but no cats, he hated cats—But he didn’t remember why. The last thing left was the skin of an ancient monster—something he had bred a long, long time ago. Is it still alive? He wondered.

The Lich hit a notch below his stony desk, scratched a rune in the wall with a specific knife (which disappeared shortly after) and pushed in the brick that was made of steel instead of stone. The wall opened, but the Lich dared not step inside.

“Veti, Veni, Villi.” He spoke again in his most natural language. A popping sound was heard, then the magic barrier that was rigged to explode was deactivated, and now the Lich strolled inside. His steps echoed a strange enthusiasm as he passed multiple artifacts of varying power. Every one of them were encased in ancient stained glass that lit up the room like lamps, each etched with a symbol only he would know. Above them were robes that hung like war banners, each different and extravagant. Is that really what I used to wear?
The Lich reached the podium with three steps—he skipped them all. Though he was in a shriveled form, he still retained the great height he was alive. The steps were set to spit acid, fire and ice to whomever landed on them.

On a black sandstone podium sat a perfectly made book. On its cover was The Lich’s magic circle, in ruby, sapphire, emerald and gold trimmings. It looked no bigger than any other book, in truth, it held the combined notes that the Lich had made from thousands of years. With the power of mystery, the development ability from his falna—

Falna? I have a Falna?

Then The Lich remembered the one-eyed god who gave the sorcerer his blessing.
Ah, my old god. Where is he? He thought, puzzled. The Lich opened the book without even touching it—it was attuned to him and him only. He could tell it to find any scrap of forbidden lore within it, and it would deftly follow his demands. “What’s my name again?” He asked the codex.

The book flipped to the first page. It appeared blank, until ink writhed from it in old language. The words writhed and withered, going in and out of the page.
The answer didn’t form.

“How??” The Lich asked in bewilderment. “It must still be connected to my mind …No…I removed that feature. Have I never given it my name?”

Glass cases in the corner of the podium caught The Lich’s attention. Both were fully translucent, and caked with dust. The Lich walked towards the display on the right and blew softly, as if his lungs still existed. A great gust of wind came forth from his mouth, blowing the dust away. Inside was a toga, white in color with a blue sash and an ornamental clipping. The sash was tethered to the toga by a silver belt. Above it, resting on two hinges was a green laurel crown. Drawn to it, The old lich ditched his bronze crown and replaced it with the laurels. He replaced the shawl with the toga, its fabric soft and long. Before he closed the glass case, he noticed a pair of sandals with straps that reached to where his quad muscles would be—he put them on too, just extremely tight so they wrapped around the bone.

So comfortable… A face flashed in the Lich’s mind. It was a beautiful woman, sewing with red hair. The lich had grown fond of this memory—he saw it nearly everyday. Another thing I have to detail.

The Lich looked in the other cabinet which was far longer than the other. It was a wand, and a great spear, though the spear seemed to function more as a staff. It was made entirely of silver with a magic stone implanted in the middle of its spearhead. The wand was long and wooden, with 5 gems of different colors. From the bottom (and the largest) was a ruby, topaz, lapas, emerald and the smallest, a dark gem at the top. The Lich took both. On the sides were multiple rings, at least 10. The Lich took them out, put them on, and they tightened to his bony fingers. Each of them had jewels, etchings, or even nothing to distinguish them from each other. In a flash, The Lich remembered each of the ring's abilities.

Now what should I do?
I could wait for my god to come back… No. He thought. He likely found me poor company. A sad expression (would have) crossed the Lich’s face. The new and fresh clothing made The Lich feel excited, though nothing escaped the… nothing that was in his ‘heart.’
“Codex, what should you do when there's nothing to do? The library is empty, my god won’t come back. What’s left here?”

The codex flipped to a blank page. If anyone else stumbled upon the book, they would look inside to see a complex maze of notes perfectly made to be illegible. Then, the page would turn black unless the power word was spoken, which only The Lich knew…
Or didn’t know. Thank the heavens it could still tell it was him.
Nothing. Was written on the page in flowy handwriting.

“Then what is there to do?” The codex flipped a page, as if switching forms.
'Adventure.'
“Adventure? I have been fighting against adventurers for…. Well, you understand.”
'Adventure.' It repeated.
“The world has changed up there, the Babel might not even still be standing!”
'Then find out if it is.'
“And what will I do after?” The Lich couldn’t understand why the Codex had such a sway to him. “Orario may still be there…gods and goddesses have likely fallen.”
'Make a name for yourself.'

The Lich gasped. “A name for myself? When I don’t even remember it? I am the Lich—the ceaseless enemy of good. I chose immortality 2000 years ago—”
2000 years ago? The Lich thought. Am I beginning to remember?

Liches had a funny way of dealing with the world. Most of them, like the Lich in the tomb here, walled-up inside their graves or mausoleums and read everything they could to gain power. Normally, after all the knowledge is consumed, a lich will go out, wreak havoc and build their empire; tasteless things like that which The Lich in the Tomb couldn’t care less about. At times, however, A Lich may spend so much time gaining that occult power (Like ours truly) that their cold, undead hearts may forget their purpose: then they usually die. Usually quite horrifically. Tomb accidents account for 50% of all Lich deaths, Afterall. Well, until they revive from their phylactery that is.

The Lich sighed. Perhaps his mind wasn’t all gone. Hopefully more will come soon.
'When was the last time you saw the horizon? The burning sun on your bones? The green grass beneath your feet? Food in your mouth? Water down your throat? The codex encouraged.'

“Ever since Epimetheus and I fought.” The Skeleton is sorely remembered. “I’ve been hiding here ever since then.” The memory burned in him. The battle of immortals was something he would never forget.

'You did steal a part of the primordial flame.'

“Only enough for a torch I said!” The Lich thundered. “But nooooo… Can’t have anybody else have his precious fire.” I still have that torch, right? The Lich hoped.
That was so many years ago… “How do you remember that?”

'You made me so you could fight him again.'

“Oh yeah…” The Lich remembered. With a wave of his hand, the Codex floated towards him. “But we can do more than that.”

'Certainly.'

“Maybe you're right—besides, I doubt many of the surface adventurers are as strong as before. Albert… he was a warrior.”

I thought you hated them. You used to rave about it all the time.'

“Huh… I guess I did. I may have disliked them, especially that prancy elf Celia. But, let bygones be bygones and all that.” The Lich slipped the want into his belt, and carried the staff as if it were a walking stick. “Well… I guess it's time to see the light.”

'Looking like that?'

The Lich stared at his bony reflection in the glass cabinets. “I guess you're right. What were the requirements for Flesh resurrection?” The pages of the codex flipped around, and then ink bled through into the pages. Old blood, drawn into a magic circle—
“Silver tonic, black argu, blah-blah-blah. Where was my magic circle again?”

'Below the library.'

“Right! Thank you.” The Lich left the room, the Codex hovering behind him. He closed the false wall and strutted down his corridors. How long has it been since I lost my flesh? At least my hair is still around. The Lich-lord whimsically stepped in the Library, the 19 skeletons hard at work. “You there!” He pointed at one skeleton. Giving general commands such as ‘one of you’ or ‘get over here’ Never resulted in anything getting done. Specificity was very important with the undead. “Escort me to the magic chamber.”

The skeleton simply stared.
“The one with my magic circle.”
It didn’t move.
“Could you please show me where it is…?” The skeleton began shuffling to the upstairs potion of the library, where no skeleton had begun construction. Its bones creaked all the way up the elegant steps.

Go outside, experience the world… again…
“You're right! I should just step out there now and—”

'You're still a skeleton.'

“Right again! Let’s get to the magic room shall we!” The Lich-lord strutted down the halls of his tomb eccentrically, the codex hovered behind him. He entered the library where 19 skeletons were hard at work fixing the shelves. The Lich climbed a stylish (though now rather macabre) spiral staircase to the second floor. He traced his fingers around the books, until he found just the one:

Secrets of the Undying, by Zotikos Septimus Zeta.

The Lich pushed the book back instead of pulling it, and the shelf swung like a door. The Lich entered a well lit room with many shelves, plants that had long since died, a table of alchemy and spell weaving, a Shelf full of hand-made grimoires. There was a grand mirror in the back of the room without a hint of dust. The most astonishing part of the room was the perfectly replicated magic circle that was the exact replica of the Lich’s. Ulike most mage’s circles, his was detailed with symbols and colors, a rarity and perhaps the only one of its kind in the modern day.

“Now, what were the required materials?” The Lich asked his Codex.

'The Old blood of the undead youth.'

“Why did I write it like that? It just sounds silly. Just write: ‘Blood from the youthful flesh.’”

'Blood from the youthful flesh.'

“Much better. Still creepy, but much better.” The Lich murmured. The Lich searched his cabinets for vials of blood so he may fill the circle. He found them hidden away out of sight in a small healing section. The Lich poured the vials into specific symbols of the magic circle etching. When he finished, the Lich stood in the middle. “What were the words again?” The codex hovered closer.

'Vasi hali et aqua forti. Facit, Facit, et aqua Forti.'

“Vasi hali et aqua forti. Facit, Facit, et aqua Forti.” The codex swiftly left the magic circle. In a flash of unholy light, the Lich’s body was turned to its original form. The Lich gasped for air as if he were held underwater. The grand mirror in the back reflected a tall, young man with a full head of curly brown hair and fair skin. His left eye still was embedded with the strange red eye, but his right eye was bright gray. “Not too shabby. Was I really this young?” The man in the reflection could not have been older than 19.
Perhaps. But your spirit magic will make you look older.

The young form still came with its own rules. It aged fast, especially when he used the magic from his spirit contracts. There were times when the Lich faced a powerful party, only to look like a skeleton at the end of the battle—but his eye—his ruby eye, the gift from his god would forever stay the same: The evil eye.
“Is there anything else to do? Before I see the light?”

'You need to replenish the stock of blood.'

“Ah, of course! What would I do without you?”

The codex shifted its pages again. Remain a skeleton for the rest of your life?

“Probably right…” The Lich took a knife from the cupboards and slit his wrist with it without thought. He filled multiple vials with his blood, more than any human could lose. He added those vials to the rest of the expansive storage, and walked out of the room into the library.

Are they still getting all of the books dry? The Lich thought as he watched his hardworking skeletons. “All of you!” The skeletons snapped to attention and saluted. “I’m going out for the day—Good work all of you! Oh, and, once you're done, maintain the tomb. Fix traps, clean the walls and floors and—” The Lich had a flash of a memory: a clean stone grave. “And fix my sarcophagus… and the other one—the special one.” No response, just back to work. “Codex, how far was Orario again?”

'2 miles'

“Hiding in plain sight—truly, one of my best ideas.”

'What will you do?'

“Adventure? Fight? Die? For the first time in a long while, I really don’t know.”

Chapter Text

“Say, Codex, did I ever leave a magic circle in Orario?”

‘Yes. You left one for that family—the one who served the other immortal there.’

“Was it in that craggily old shop? What was it… The witches’ secret house?”
Indeed.

“Visci!” The Lich said in delight. “Now for the shade spell…” The old Lich cleared his throat. “Return, twilight. The night approaches. Your envoy beseeches you, Shade. Incarnate of Darkness. Queen of shade.”

Darkness surrounded the Lich, and he focused on the magic circle which was the second farthest away from him.

Off to adventure!

Leona may have been an old toad, a mage who had explored the dungeon in her younger years, and created countless magical artifacts; but she never expected to see someone appear in her secret closet.
“AAAHHH!”
“AAAHHH!”

“What are you doing here!?” Leona demanded. The young man in front of her wore strange clothes—a toga with a blue sash, gray pants and white tunic. He looked out of place—not just because he was in her closet.

“I’m sorry! I thought my ward wouldn’t have been built over!”

Leona stared into his eyes, then looked away. His left eye was too strange to gaze at. It looked like the eye of an old man, with murky whites. But its red was fervent, and overpowered the look of his gray iris on the right.

“Return, twilight. The night approaches. Your envoy beseeches you, Shade. Incarnate of Darkness. Queen of shade.” And in a moment, a black magic circle appeared and the wizard was gone.

“What in heaven's name?” Leona gasped. Leona trudged through the house, finding her dusty staff. She slowly walked towards the closet again; the black light appeared, and it looked as if a hole opened wherever the light touched. Leona threw the closet door open, preparing her chant—

“A peace offering! I have a peace offering!” The young wizard thrust a book that Leona sensed was filled with magic.

“What is it?” She nearly croaked.

“A grimoire of my own making…! Those are still valuable, right?” He spoke in a demeanor unbefitting of a young man. He stood up, towering over the witch. His robes were still pristine white despite the dusty closet.

“Why… thank you?” Leona snatched the book from the wizards hand and—
Heavens above. Leona thought, shocked. Just how much power is filled in this thing?

“Who are you? Why did you build over my ward?” The wizard's hand rested on a carving in the stone, one that Leona had always thought her ancestors had made.

“I am Leona Lazzuli, I am the shop keeper here.”

“Lazzuli? That’s an old name…” The wizard was deep in thought.

“My family has lived in Orario for many centuries.” Leona said proudly.

“I know.” The wizard said simply. “What was their name? Samson? They started this, right?”

“I wouldn’t know. My family moved here after the sealing of the dungeon 1000 years ago.”

“Yikes, how long have I been away…?” Leona was scared of the young man. He was odd, and his manners reminded Leona of her grandmother, so long ago. Leona studies the grimoire. It was elegantly made, gold, ruby, emerald, and other materials were used in the decorative color. Just those gems could drive the price of it up by lots… and the fact he gave it to her so casually heightened her curiosity. “May I ask—what year is it?”

“1000 C.D.”

“Well…that is certainly a long time.” The wizard looked oddly at her. “As much as I would love to learn of our great city, I think I would like to experience it myself. Thank you!” The wizard brushed past a shocked witch and nearly ran out the store.

“Hold on!” The old woman strained her voice. “I ought to pay you for this, correct?” Leona dug around in an old pouch next to the desk. ``60,000 is a bit much for this tome, but all's well.” The old witch squeaked the lie.

He narrowed his eyes, sending a gaze that made Leona’s heart cease for a moment. “Is it? How generous. But I insist more. To make such a powerful item, a person must truly test themselves further. I’m sure you have more valis than that?” Leona caught the message; Don’t even try it.

“60,000 now sir, then perhaps later you can..” The wizard waved his hand.

“Yes, I’ll be back.” He walked out of the shop in a quizzy manner.

Leona thought quickly. “Might I recommend the Hostess of fertility!”

“Very good!” He yelled back.

Leona dropped her staff and climbed into her shop's hidden attic. She retrieved a scroll that looked even older than her. It was a large, detailed compilation of her family which went all the way too…Samson.

Fels must know… He might know. Leona took a small object from her pocket that looked like a large marble. It was red, with black markings. “Mr. Fels! Mr. Fels!” She said in a hoarse voice.

A small bit of shuffling was transmitted. “Yes, Leona?” The aged voice answered.

“What other immortals do you know of?”

The Lich gasped. The city had grown so much over… What was it?
700 years. He thought. How much of his life was that?
The Lich strolled through the city, gaining looks for his attire.

When did everyone start wearing adventuring gear? The Lich thought. There were so many different kinds of people, with accents and some languages he didn’t understand. The amazons are still around? I thought I wiped them out years ago….

The memory shot through his head. Just how long ago was that? The flashes in his mind were seas filled with islands, flames that brought down kingdoms and a storm which destroyed them all. Typhon. He remembered, terrified.

Priorities first—I need to remember my name. The name is key.

The Lich wondered what to do—maybe a good whack on the head? Or perhaps the codex is lying to him? No, it couldn’t….

Or can it?

“Something to experiment later,” the Lich murmured. “Now that I have flesh again, I might as well eat something. Gods, when was the last time I tasted water? Bread? Meat?” What was the name of that place the witch told me? The hostess—

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry sir!” A young girl bumped into the Lich on what seemed to be the largest street in Orario. The Lich put on a friendly face, but behind it were narrowed eyes and a cold, judging gaze.

“That’s quite alright.” The Lich was old, and drew on many experiences that worked their way into his instincts; which now told him that the maid-like girl was trouble. “Good day to you.” The Lich brushed her off politely, and continued on his way, The codex carried in his arms.

“Hold on sir! Your Leta came off.” The girl held up a golden, decorative pin with a blue flower drawn upon it. How did she know its name? The Lich questioned. That pin is meant to stay on even in a skirmish—did she pick it off of me?

“Why thank you.” The Lich transfixed the pin back onto himself, and continued to stride away.

“Hold on sir!” By Olympia—that's a word to remember—this girl does not know when to rest. “Might I know your name?”

Shit. “You need not trouble yourself with such a thing, miss.”

The girl had a smile that looked painted on. “Please, I insist.”

A name popped into the Lich’s head, along with the image of a man with stubborn black curls. “Exekias.” He said begrudgingly.

“Well, Mr. Exekias, would you perhaps like to enter the Hostess? My treat for bumping into you!”

“So what is this, are you some kind of high-way man?” Exekias wondered if this entire event was started by that witch.

“What!” She blushed in a way Exekias found repulsive.

Loud stomps echoed from the large pub. A woman (who could have also been a dwarf, perhaps both?) Stood in the doorway. She had an impeccably strong build, with long chocolate hair and eyes. She wore blue clothes and a large white apron. “Syr! Stop trifling with adventurers and get back inside! It’s almost night, and we need adventurers to be well served.”

“Yes, please girl, go to your boss.” Exekias pleaded. The girl shot a look at the proprietor.

“You there! Expensive lad are’ ya!?” The hostess projected. “You want some food? Best in Orario!” The hostess had completely changed her attitude. Exekias starred her up and down, judging her as a threat.

I could take her.

Exekias gracefully walked into the club. The pleasant aroma rushed him, and he stopped in his stride. Perhaps I ought to stay a while…

“Normally, I wouldn't dare stop a customer from buying a lot of food but this is just… abnormal.” The proprietor Mrs. Grande (or ‘mama mia’ As she recommended) said cautiously.

Exekias had eaten 19 plates of food—and with the portions the hostess of fertility provided—it could be enough to kill someone. Luckily, Exekias was already dead. The waitress, Syr, would stop from time to time to bother the old Lich, but Exekias would simply give an extra coin to ‘Mama mia’ to get rid of her. She was remarkably curious, even for a human.

An immortal? Perhaps a god? No… there is no arcanum surrounding them.

Exekias quietly debated as the pub filled with adventurers. “Clearly, you have a very well liked establishment.”

Mama Mia snorted pridefully. “Best in the city. I’m sure you could agree?”

Exekias had to admit it; the food was excellent. “The finest of delicacies. Tell me, Mrs. Grande,”

“Kiddo, call me Mama Mia.” She said in a gruff voice. Oh, how looks can deceive. Exekias thought.

“Mama Mia, were you a warrior of some kind?”

The dwarfish woman looked at Exekias with a light coat of shock. “In fact I—was—used to be a dungeon crawler.” The pause in her sentence gave the Lich thought.

“Quite the accomplished one, I’m sure.” The Lich smiled gently. Mama Mia put down a plate of shellfish. My favorite; that’s something to remember.

“What about yourself? With those clothes I’d assume you're from Olympia.” Mia Grande said curiously.

Olympia? First the clothes, my mutterings and now this woman—thrice is not a coincidence. “How astute. Have you met any from Olympia?”

“Olympia does not allow their people outside of it.” The dwarf said, suspiciously. “You look like a man from dungeon oratoria.”

Exekias’s eyes and ears picked up. “Dungeon Oratoria? Is that a book!?” He said, very excited.

“Do you not know about it?” A new voice cut through the space between Mama Mia and Exekias. It was a young man, perhaps only 14, with red ruby eyes and white hair. He was on the skinny side, and a bit short for his age. “It’s one of my favorites!”

Time stopped for Exekias, who stared at the boy in surprise.

“I recognize you.”
“Really? I’m sorry sir, I don’t remember you.” The boy said sheepishly. He drooped gloomily. “Unless if it was from this morning—”

“No, no, I have a knack for this sort of thing. I’ve seen your face before.” Exekias puzzled his ill mind, trying to remember anyone who fit the boy. “Oh well! What brings you here, young man?”

“Bell! It’s good to see you! I’m glad you came!” The annoying girl came up to the both of them and ushered Bell into his seat. He was blushing at the girl. Oh, the young.
“Well of course I would—!” The young lady hugged him, then swiftly walked away into the crowd of adventurers.

“Well now, aren’t you popular kiddo?” Exekias said. The boy looked down, embarrassed. “Though frankly, I would choose another. Did she rope you into coming here?”

“She found a magic stone I dropped—”

“Ugh, you have no idea how old that trick is.” Exekias turned his body dramatically.

“In my day, people used to do that all the time.”

“In your day?” Bell furrowed his brow.

Oh, best be more conspicuous. “Oh, sorry—I’m terribly poor with liquor. Often I say things I don’t mean.” Exekias could feel Mama Mia narrow her eyes behind him. He hadn’t ordered a drop of anything the entire evening. “You seem agitated boy,” Exekias changed the subject. “Something strange happened?”

“You seem like an experienced adventurer, could I ask you for advice?”

Technically, I have entered the dungeon.

“Of course my boy.” How long has it been since I’ve been a teacher?

“What should you do if a minotaur is chasing you…?”

“How about you start from the beginning.”

“I think you did admirably boy. The fact you were even able to run from it is something worth celebration.”

Bell perked up at that. “Really? Isn’t it cowardly?”

“There is no honor, no luxury, and no hidden truths in death. Running for your life is natural. Bravery is a means to expand yourself—but more often than not, it is your end.”
“He’s… right kiddo.” Mama Mia said.

“What do you think I could have done differently?”

“Hmph. What else was there for you to do? You evaded it well, using the narrow corridors and such. But I feel there is more to this…”

One of the waitresses gave a call. “Mama Mia! The party with the big reservation has arrived!” A large party of Elves, Amazons, and creatures of all races entered the tavern. They all seem so familiar… Exekias nearly tore his mind apart, looking for the familiarity that would not appear.

That Elf

An emerald elf walked into existence, and Exekias felt a twinge of shame.

Black wind, as far as the eye could see. A golden child picked up a fallen hero's sword. An emerald rival died with her staff—and a sorcerer ran.

Exekias snapped out of the moment when he heard a whimper as a stream of girls entered the tavern. Bell was hiding himself, just after he gazed at the golden haired child. Oh. Exekias smirked. That’s the rest of the story. “Well Bell, why don’t you talk to her?” Exekias chuckled, unsure who of the bunch he had his heart set on.

“Are you kidding me!” Bell loudly whispered. “She's level 5! And she saved me!”

“Good, then you already have some sense of familiarity.” Exekias was about to laugh.

“Nooo…” Bell sunk lower into his seat. “But I still have to thank her—!”

Exekias put a hand on Bell’s shoulder. “You must always show gratitude.” Exekias put as much emphasis as he could muster into those words. “Each of them started at zero, just as you are now.”

“But I’m level one…”

“Shoosh. Go to her. She’ll likely recognize you. After all, not many boys look like a rabbit.” He squirmed at that.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Some strange resolve boiled within the young man, and Exekias smiled behind a wise face.

“No, I can do it myself.” Bell got up from the bar.

“Be sure to ask what kind of man she likes.” Bell looked back with a red face, but continued to the large table. That was poor sport. The lich gazed at his staff, rested neatly against the rustic bar. He felt the many gazes of the bar rest upon him. He desperately needed new fashion. “Who are they?”

“The Loki familia. Arguably, they are the strongest around.”

The strongest? “ What of the Zeus and Hera Familias?” She queried her brow.

“Them? They’ve been banished for 15 years. They went extinct 7 years ago.”

Zeus? Hera? What did you do?

“I had heard a great deal of things about them…” Disappointment leaked into his voice. “Such a waste.”

“Anything else Mr. Olympia?” The hostess quickly exerted the question.
“Me? No, nothing more. Although, I could use your help. As you may notice, I am in dire need of new clothing.”

“Are you an adventurer?” The large hostess asked.

“I’m thinking about it. How much… excitement does it bring?”

Mama Mia rolled her eyes at the lich lord. “Oh trust me, it's all fun and no grind.” Exekias granted her a sly smirk. “How strong are you? I imagine as a mage, you will be needing a party.”

“Perhaps.”

The hostess gave a dubious raise of her brow. “You're definitely a mage. You have all the pomp for it.” She studied her thoughts for a moment. “I’d recommend The Babel’s 6th floor, the 5th if you have gold to spare.”

“Many thanks!” Do people still say that? “May I see the damage?”

“Of course your majesty.” She said, mocking his accent. She shuffled behind the bar and brought out a paper, detailing every course. I’ll be… what has happened to Valis nowadays? The Lich reached inside the toga and found no coins.

Oh… that's right.

“Something the matter?”

“It seems I may have left my Valis… behind…” An unamused look came over the dwarfs face.

“You’re not leaving without a way to pay me.” Did she just threaten me? Dear Heaven, when was the last time someone threatened me?

“Why not take my staff or collateral. I can promise you it's a very good one. I’ll come back tomorrow with your money, and I’ll take it back.” The Lich took the spear staff into his hand and passed it over to the dwarf.

She gave a deep, Begrudging sigh. “Fine enough. Don’t be late, or I’ll get as high a price as I can for it.”

“Splendid.”

Exekias hadn’t realized it at first, but the bar had become louder with laughter—and not the merry kind. The Lich swiveled in his chair towards the center of the room, where the so-called ‘strongest familia’ sat themselves down. Bell was there, his gaze tragically transfixed to the floor. The table itself was silent, apart from a grey Were-wolf who was given to drunken ramblings. How did I not notice it before? The Lich thought of the fledgling adventurer fondly, and yet he couldn’t even hear Bell cry from a few meters away.

“Admit it Ais!” The wolf cried. “Never In a million years would he be man enough for you! He can’t wag your tail!” Lich noted Bell's shiftiness just before the boy broke for the door. Syr stood to the side to allow him to pass.

“Dine n’ dashin at Mia’s? That’s bold.” Exekias felt the twitch of an arcanum and the godly power behind it. This is their goddess.

“Bete! That was uncalled for.” The Elf spoke. She sounded like a mother exhausted with her child. “It was our fault the minotaurs escaped the 17th floor. You had no need to belittle him.” A figure with golden hair set out to find the Bell.

“Excuse me.” Exekias folded his blue sash over his shoulder as approached the table of adventurers. He directed his words to the red haired goddess. “That was your familia’s doing? Harming my ward?” The Lich said sternly. I feel as if I should break them… Images of extinguished heroes sprawled through his mind. “I must say, it's rather tasteless.”

“Hmmm…? Who r’ you?” The goddess asked, on the verge of drunkenness.

“Beat it toga.” The grey were-wolf snarled.

“The adults are talking pup.” The wolf got up from his seat, drunk and wrathful.

“Bete, simmer down.” A strong voice silenced the table. It came from a blonde pallum near the goddess. “Young man, as captain of my familia, I offer—”

“Oh, I could tell who you are.” Exekias interrupted, earning himself a vengeful look from an Amazon. “As I said—the adults are talking. Seeing as you couldn’t corral your little team to chase down a measly minotaur, my faith in your capability is lacking. Now.” He turned to the goddess, her scarlet eyes opened for the first time. “I demand recompense for my ward.”

A twinkle of remembrance sparkled in their deep red eyes. “Oh.” the goddess Loki said gravely. “Yer one of ‘em.” She frowned.

“Glad you noticed.” There is no reason to hide myself from a god. The Lich lord thought.

“You little shit!” The were-wolf continued its yelling.

“Bete, sit.” The goddess commanded, much to the astonishment of her familia. “Alright alright, I’m sorry. What can we do to make this right?”

Exekias sighed, lifting part of the scorn from his gaze. “He’s a new adventurer. Last I remember, It’s not uncommon for them to wind up dead, especially those from poorer familia.” He sent a shrouded gaze over the table. “Perhaps a few tips here and there—and a bit of tutelage, oh, and of course, perhaps you could pay for my bill and his?”

“Done.” The goddess said bluntly. She stared at him for a few moments. “Your friend, Jims was his name? He helped me out a while back.” Her lie came off as easy as truth. “Besides, I got a soft spot for newbies.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Mia?” The hostess was already staring back, as was most of the bar still sober enough to remain awake. “It seems you need not hold onto my staff any longer.” She sighed and threw it back to him. “His name is Bell Cranel, his familia I am unsure of. Though I am sure we can agree he is quite recognizable.”

The goddess nodded.“Good night to you. I’ll give Jims a hello from you.”

Just then, the golden haired girl who had set out for Bell came back inside. Her eyes were the same as her hair, and the Lich knew her face from even a thousand years ago.

“Aria?” He called. “Is that you?” All but the goddess of Trickery looked in his direction. No… It can’t be her. She’s not nearly powerful enough. But—she is a spirit, is she not? The Lich was puzzled for the first time in milenia. She looked just like the great wind spirit—but she was shorter, and the soft body which had once belonged to the spirit had not evoked itself here—and her face. Aria was a soft wind that brought joy to all, but there was no emotion within this child.

“Who are you?” Her face twitched into something else, revealing a feeling unkind to him.

“No one.” I shan’t not discover this mystery now—save it for another time. A messenger wearing the guilds uniform entered the pub, seeking for the blonde pallum.

The goddess closed her eyes again. “Be sure you do.” She brought a mug to her lips, then returned to a relaxed, drunken state. Exekias stepped out of the pub and walked atop the cardinal street, the great babel far above him. Where did Bell run off too? His attention was diverted by a snow white owl atop one of the many stores. It stared at him, bobbing its head and twisting it around. “Are you looking for him too?” The Lich Lord mocked. The codex felt heavy in his arms. He spied the orb inside one of its big sockets, and knew at an instant it was a familiar.

He heard the childish familia hurry out of the Pub, likely due to the messenger. They rushed through the streets, likely to their manor. Each of them moved swiftly, even the drunkard. Their hurry could only be for something dangerous. Ah, The lich Lord surmised. I was rather loud stepping in. Now the bird stared at him like he was a fool. “It seems I best follow?” The lich lord gave a crooked smile as he followed the bird through Orario’s many streets. There wasn’t a soul near him, and the crystal lamps dimly lit the surroundings with pale blue lights that were a burden to stare at. The familiar led him to a poorer place, where the homes were less than hovels and the roads smaller than a boaz. He was led to a small center, where a broken fountain displayed a homely mermaid, tragically dry.

“I can only assume dear Lazzuli spoke of me?” The Lich lord chuckled. “Trading in one immortal for another, hmmm?”

“You always brought a stir.” A figure clad in darkness responded, stepping into the crystal light.

“Is that true?” What did I used to get up to here? The lich understood that now he was with another immortal. He could see the black robe clinging so tightly to the figure. The lich knew that beyond the hood, there was no flesh to be found.

Chapter Text

CH.3 THALES OF OLYMPIA

“The Familia in the tavern—are they really the strongest you have?” Exekias was unbothered by the fellow immortal. If it couldn’t figure out how to bring back its own flesh, then there was no need to fear it. Likely it couldn’t even fight. “I’d imagine someone may have put them on alert—that pallum looks quite headstrong.
“You have no idea.” The boney figure sighed. “They are the Loki familia.” Its voice box and vocal chords were long since rotten, but the voice came through rather inhumanely.

“The new sort, hm?”

“For us, perhaps.” It had no humor to its voice. It’s on edge around me. It knows me.

“Do you recognize me?” Exekias asked, a small hope in its voice.

“Do you not recognize me?” It said, “Or perhaps,” It rushed its words out so suddenly, it put The lich to pause. “I am confusing you with another immortal.”

The evil red eye of the lich narrowed. “Really? I would doubt there are many left. After All, I never quite liked sharing my books.” Small moments of the past erupted in the Lich’s mind. He saw other immortals bound by time, refusing their knowledge. “I would say there aren’t many to compare me with.”

A long silence fell onto the pair. The white Owl danced in the sky above them. “I am Fels.” That name means nothing to me.

Not a moment passed before the codex fluttered its pages.

‘There is a lack of notation for them.’

“How old might you be? I’m trying to find you here.” He tapped the surface of the book.

“800.” It said simply. Pages of the codex flipped and flopped. It looked crazed and manic.

‘Nope, nothing.’

“Huh… last I was here, 700 years ago, the Zeus and Hera Familia still ruled…their captain was slain, by whom I don’t remember. What did those two Power-houses in?”

“The Black dragon.”

Golden green wind turned the tide against dark fire.
A great and terrible storm fell upon a black nightmare.
A sword more godly than any of the Liches own creations shined through the storm
Two petrifying eyes of putrid yellow were fallen upon—and then only one remained.
Typhon had awoken.
It stared at me.

“Why on earth would they do such a… brazen thing?” Exekias felt fear in his voice. He hated that.

“They were at the height of their power. The Leviathan and the behemoth had already been slaughtered. They had multiple level 7’s, a Level 8 and 9.”

“It’s not as if they were the first in history.” The Lich snarked. “If Albert could only wound it, then how could they stand a chance? A spirit warrior true if ever one there was—and we were beaten.”

“We?” Fels asked.

“Yes yes, I was there 1000 years ago. Any questions?” The lich asked intolerably. “It was not a very even battle, from what I remember.”

Sad silence filtered the area. The tragic mermaid fountain stayed still and quiet. The lich moved to sit upon it. “These adventurers… what happened to them?”

“Whatever do you mean?” It asked.

“Do not mistake me—never were they all equally as noble, or true and strong. But they had… character. Now they seem only like weak fools. Is this the state that Zeus and Hera left Orario in?”

“There was darkness here, 7 years ago.” It said simply. “The evils came, familia’s brimmed with criminals and horrid adventurers who would have never survived Zeus and Hera stepped into the light. Familia’s which have been here for centuries went extinct, and evil gods nearly destroyed the babel. It was the Loki and Freya familia who stepped up to defend the city. Do not doubt them—they had not the resources of the chief Olympians, or the numbers to keep up with the suicidal tamers and bombers.”

Exekias fell silent. He felt the resolve of the shades of words. “When the gods first came down to the surface, the spirits were still plentiful. Many of them had been devoured, do not mistake me, but so many remained I thought there was still a sliver of hope to defeat the black beast—perhaps with the sacred flame of Olympia, as well. But now… I don’t feel them. Their power… have they left this world?”

“Nearly every one has been absorbed by monsters. We have had a few threats here and there through the years… but none have been able to destroy Orario.”

“The rambunctious young always find a way.” The city had changed, so very much. But the babel and the walls were as steadfast as they had always been. “I don’t feel the same power here… or perhaps I have acquired too much these past centuries.”

“Why are you here?” Fels asked.

Exekias smiled thoughtfully at the mage. “To go on an adventure.”

“You will find no better place.” The voice confirmed. “I'll take it then…”

“Yes, you may call off your hoards of adventurers. I have no desire to fight anymore. I have been reading, experimenting, studying and grinding through thousands of years… and now I ask: for what?”

“You can never be too old to become an adventurer.” Fels responded. “I found that out myself. I wasn’t young when I first traveled from Altena.” Exekias nodded at the mention of the Mage’s city.

“A fine truth.” The Lich complimented. “Now, how exactly does one become an adventurer?”

The Halls of the guild were one of the few unchanged parts of Orario. The thousand year old building stood next to the babel as one of the last true landmarks of the dungeon city. Many advisors sat at their stations as adventurers brought in their spoils. A long line of aspiring adventurers waiting in line, some patiently, some rather twitchy. The Lich’s strange fashion continued to draw looks from the men of the room. The codex felt heavy in his arms, and he used the great magic spear as a simple walking stick. After receiving his application, he sat down at a neat booth.

Name: Exekias
Familia: Unknown
Achieved rank: Unknown.
Date of Birth: Unknown
Purpose for Adventuring: To adventure.

Will they even accept this? The Lich questioned. He brought the form over to the till, where a dark red haired were-wolf accepted his form. She looked back and forth from the Lich and the form—a wide, friendly smile upon Exekias’s face.

“I’m sorry but this is too little.” Oo, she’s dealt with this a bit much hasn’t she?

“I thought so too, but you must understa—” A short, fat, white haired elf tapped her shoulder. She leaned down to hear his whisper, and then she stepped aside.

“I was told you were coming!” His exuberant tone didn’t match his doughy face. “Please, follow me.” He opened a latch to let the Lich through the station. “I am Mr. Royman, I am president of the guild, just under our founder of course. If you would please come with me.” His voice was pushy, but unpersuasive. It wreaked fear—something The Lich understood well. He followed the fat elf through the guild, whilst he droned on and on of the landmarks' great history. The image of the guild burning invigorated a small comfort within the Lich’s cold heart.

Royman stopped at a large door, signifying the status of presidency. The room itself was spacious and permeated with items of the dungeon, some of them likely older than the elf. “Please, After you.” He chided. The desk he sat upon was ancient. ‘I’d know a thing about that.’

“Did that fellow Fels inform you I was coming?” The elf nodded vigorously. His form seemed out of place with his uniform.

“Yes, master Fels had confided in me. I am here merely to establish your place in Orario, all at your behest. Might you have any questions for me, or shall we get started?”

The Lich appreciated his politeness—it's how he used to spare adventurers. “No no, please go ahead. You are the expert here.” The elf smiled as warmly as he could.

“Firstly then, Are you part of a familia?”

“Yes—but who they are is something I have long forgotten. I know they are alive, somewhere within the world.”

“That will be difficult to apply… without a familia to register, we may be unable to put your advancements upon the witness board.”

“Oh, that's quite alright. I suppose then you will need me to keep a light public figure?” The Elf scribbled upon an adventuring application sheet.

“Yes, that would be much appreciated sir. What of your status? Might you remember that?”

“Oh, heavens no. I gained it 1000 years ago, my friend, and it merely peaked my interest. I believe I reached the first class.”

“Your strength is obvious.” The fat elf complimented. “That would be only natural. What is your name? I noticed you put down Exekias, shall we keep that?”

The Lich had been staring at the many artifacts in the room. “Hmm? Oh, no please. I was simply forced to give it to a waitress. I would prefer to blend in, and Exekias is a bit foreign.” The Lich carefully eyed the Elf’s uniform. “You have a very nice jacket.”

“...Thank you.” The elf said nervously.

“Do you have a tailor, or a good shop for these sorts of things?”

“But of course!” He cheered. “I will give you the address, and if you would like the guild will be more than happy to burden the cost.”

“How gracious of you.” The lich tried hard not to show any emotion to the representative. “I would ask you, dear sir, what might be a normal name in Orario? Back then it was all Albert’s and Alfred’s and Benedicts.”

“Might I say, a name should be chosen with roots in Olympia.” the country appeared in his mind again and again.

“Yes… I have heard that Olympia is quite secretive. Perhaps I have a family background there… lets say, emerging from its islands.”

“Its Islands?” Royman stared confused. “Olympia is only the island. There are none other.”

The Lich blinked in a slow, accusing manor. “Young man..” The elf was old, likely akin to a human in his sixties. “I have been alive since before the sealing of the dungeon—I think I would know Olympia had other Islands.”The fat elf gulped fear down his throat. ‘Perhaps I was a bit much…’ “You wish to tell me something.” The Lich said more patiently. “I will hear your honesty, and I swear my anger will not surge.”

“Sir, before I came to Orario and the guild, I was born in the Duenly forest. I left there at 30, and traveled the world for 20 years. I never stepped foot in Olympia, as is their law, but I have gazed upon it from the outside. This may have been 100 years ago, but I do not remember a single Island in the distance, nor have I heard of one in any book.” The earnest face fell to an awkward silence. The Lich didn’t meet his gaze, and merely stared at the floor in contemplation. “But, perhaps I—!”

“Am I really that old?” A broken voice permeated the room in a cloud of sorrow. “Islands that no man but myself remembers?”

Royman sat in respectful silence. “Thales.” Said the Lich. “He was an artist. I have one of his works in my lair. It is a simple name. He must be thousands of years dead by now…”

“Thales is a good name, not common, but not outlandish for a foreigner. It suits you well.” The guild president marked it down onto his paper. “How about… Thales Agath. His family originates from Olympia, but he escaped upon a ship, thirsty for adventure. He came to Orario to become and adventurer. What do you think of it sir?”

“I would say, well done. I thank you for your time.” The Lich gave out a rare compliment.

“And you for your patience!” The guild president was far more at ease. “Please note that, we are of course removing any and all influence from you, despite your station as an adventurer. You are unbound by us. And of course, the order for new garments will be put in by myself personally. You will find the tailor at Abby central, the last building on the southwest channel just before the babel itself. Gon anytime tomorrow. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Oh, no. I will take care of myself. Though I do have one question…”

“Ask away.” He was far more cheery than before.

“What has happened to the adventurers?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“They are so very weak… I feel as if one of my spells could blast them apart. In my time, monsters still tried to claw out from the babel, so I could understand that, now with their seeming compliance, adventures are not after the protection of the world.”

“The dark age left many scars. But as of now—I can only see Orario as growing. Zeus and Hera left everlasting marks. But adventurers… they will always strive forward.” Royman sat silent for a moment. “I will be keeping your file here. Please, I beg of you sir, do not cause a plethora of trouble.

“Worry not, I have no reason to leave any mark upon this city.” The immortal found a small portion of respect for the fat elf. “Perhaps I am too judgmental of this new generation. In fairness, none of them have had thousands of years to push themselves.” Thales stood from the chair. “Thank you. I will take my leave.”

As the Lich Lord left the room, Royman broke down huffing and gasping for breath. “Fels, I understand it now. He truly is terrifying.”

Chapter Text

CH.4 THE TEACHER

It had been 3 days since Thales became an adventurer of Orario. He sat outside the Babel, still wearing his toga. His eyes scanned over the crowds of adventurers, many of whom stared back. They would notice the large pouch of Valis that sat next to him, their eyes drawn to it like a light in darkness. When the white hair of Bell Cranel was spotted, dashing towards the dungeon Thales stood and waved the boy over. The young adventurer sheepishly came over, likely embarrassed from the incident at the hostess (which Thales now frequented).

“So the hero arrives. How are you, Bell?” The Lich said cheerfully.

“I’m okay.” Bell said simply, still flustered. “I have been going to the dungeon every day now, from dawn to dusk. How are you Mr. Exekias?”

“Exekias? Oh! My apologies Bell.” The rabbit boy stared in confusion. “I’m afraid that a long time ago I made a great many enemies here. I fled Orario during its dark age, and I merely used that name to… get around quietly.” None of what Thales said was a lie. “Please, just call me Thales.”

Bell looked at him oddly. “Are you talking about the evils?”

“Indeed. I struggled against them, but I fled before the defining battle.” The Lich lord spent some time in Gnome's libraries, reading a few brief histories. The Gnomes had all looked at him with strange familiarity, as spirits often did.

“You really fought them?” Bell looked bright eyed.

“Here and there.” Thales chided. “Now, dear Bell, I must say I am rather impressed by your resolve.”

“What do you mean?”

Thales smiled gracefully. “Not everyone can take such harassment from a first class adventurer.” Bell’s lips pressed into a thin line. “But here you are, fighting through it—its very impressive.”

Bell looked sully. “Thank you.”

Thales withdrew his smile. “Look at me, Bell.”

When the adventurer lifted his gaze, Thales was brought back in time again. ‘It's the eyes.’ He presumed. ‘That’s what's throwing me off. The eyes are all wrong.’ “Strength will always waiver—but resolve will push the clouds from the sky. Keep going, keep fighting. There is no greater power than unbending will.”

Bell smiled, his cheery demeanor gracing the world again. “I understand!”

“Now!” The Lich clapped his hands together. “You may have noticed that I was searching for you a bit—is something wrong bell?” The Boy looked up to the Babel’s top floor, and then in an instant Thales felt it too—a longing gaze that only a goddess could make. “You feel it too?” Bell nodded. “Leave it be.” The gaze drifted away, though Thales could tell its stare was only meant for Bell.

“What do you think it is?” Bell whispered, as if the godly force atop the world could hear him.

“Leave it.” The Lich commanded, and Bell snapped at attention. “I am in need of new clothes—as you can tell, this is a bit… much. I would ask you to help me shop.”

“Um… I suppose maybe after—”

“Oh hush now Bell.” Thales silenced. “How about we do some shopping and then I go with you to the dungeon? How does that sound? Having a veteran like me party up with you for the day?”

Thales could tell the bribe had worked. “Alright! I hope to learn a lot from you!”

The Items on the Babel’s 5th floor did not disappoint. The armor was either full plate, mail or cloth made by lesser spirits. Thales could feel the power within the material, and the spells that weaved them into being. Bell was starstruck throughout every shop, hopelessly gazing at items he couldn’t afford. A small pang of guilt had forced its way into his heart as Bell stared longingly at the weapons on display. Thales’s hands were clutching boxes and bags, armor and dress for mages. The splendid tailor that Royman had showed him was still working on some casual and more fashionable items.

“You can have something Bell.” Thales finally said, addressing Bell.

“Oh no Its alright, you don’t need to—”

“Nonsense, I see the way you're looking at those knives.” Blades that were as long as his forearm had caught the boys eyes. They were mirror polished, the same color as silver. It’s handle was wrapped red and its guard pure white. “It would be improper if you simply dragged you through here without giving you a thought.”

“But all of this is so expensive! You really don’t need to.”
‘He has good manners too? No wonder I want to mentor this boy.’ “Bell, please, after someone offers you something multiple times you must accept.”

“I don’t wanna be rude—”

“Then great!” Thales cut the boy off. “Lets take a look inside shall we?” He dragged the boy along, where his eyes grew wider and wider. Gleaming edges and fortified plates littered the store. The tucked away ‘failures’ looked impenetrable, and the bins of used weapons could be dragon slayers. Thales spied the shop keep, a proud dwarf past his prime. “Look around for anything else you might want, Bell.

“I don’t think–”

“Hush, look around, see what you like.” Thales stepped towards the elaborate counter, made of precious stone.

The dwarf’s beard was white as snow, but there wasn’t a hair left on his head. “How may I help you sir?”

Thales was surprised. ‘When did Dwarfs have manners? And why does everyone always call me sir? Don’t I still look young?’ Thales peaked at his palm, still made of youthful clear skin. “Yes—that knife in the window, the one with red rapping on the hilt, may I take a look at it?”

“Of course.” The smith slid the glass open, and plucked it from its stand along with the price tag. ‘500,000 valis for this? Too good to be true.’ Thales took it in his hands and was awed. Centuries ago, adventurers would have paid millions for work like this. The immortal shuddered to think what would pass for the best quality in this time.

“This is very well made.” Thales said in flat frankness.

“It is. My apprentice worked very hard on this.”

The surprises kept coming. “You didn’t craft this?”

The dwarf shook his head earnestly. “No, honest. He’s becoming a man of his own.” There was unmistakable pride in the dwarfs' voice.

“Tell your apprentice he’ll make many adventures very happy. I won’t bother haggling.” Thales opened the bag of coins and counted away.

“I’ll be happy too. The boy’s a fine worker.” The dwarf took the coins in hand gratefully.

“Oh, just a moment.” Thales paused. “Bell, did you find anything else?”

“No, No! You don’t need to get me anything else!” He squeaked from the back.

“Kids, am I right?” Thales chided as the Dwarf put the coins in a register.

“You’ve yet to see they’re stubbornness.” The old man sighed.

Thales smirked at that, a toothy smile with a flavor of mischief. “Believe me, I’ve felt it before. Before I leave, what is your name?”

“Call me Godfrey.” Thales thanked the shopkeeper who bowed respectfully as the pair waved goodbye.

“How do you like it, Bell?” The young adventurer took it in his hands as if it were a holy relic. His eyes marveled at the craftsmanship, the intricacy of the mirror blade. He held it to his eyes just so he could stare back at himself.

“Why are you being so kind to me Mr. Thales?” Bell had stopped in his tracks, a nervous expression written all over his face.

Thales let moments slip by as he thought. “You… remind me of someone. He was… my friend? I think he was… you look just like him.” A smile graced his lips, but Bell looked hardened.

“Then I don’t want it.” The words forced Thales’s mouth open. Bell had spoken his mind with such conviction that it made the Lich Lord hitch his breath. Bell saw the look in his eyes for hours, the small bursts of guilt that would be etched into his strange orbs. “I don’t want it, just because you’ve taken pity on a person that isn’t me. I’m… sorry.” The sheepish look crossed the Boy’s face again, as he bowed and offered the knife back.

“Bell Cranel….. You are full of surprises.” Thales made no move to take the knife back. The fifth floor of the Babel was busy as ever, all kinds of mortals passing them by without sparing a glance. For a moment, Bell’s hair looked red and far longer. ‘It’s her again..’ He had seen this same woman everyday, randomly etching herself into his mind. It was the only memory he could easily call back too.

Reality came back with power, and Bell still bowed deeply and nervously. The awkwardness became nearly too much to bear for both of them, and Bell nearly ran away. “If you won’t take it from a strange acquaintance such as myself… then why not think of it as an investment.”

Bell looked up, curious. “What?”

“I see great things in you Bell—and the goal to become a Hero? That is something special indeed. Think of this as me wanting to keep that flame inside you alive, by all means.”

Bell paused, but his resolve was still there. “Alright. I promise to keep pushing myself! I won’t forget this!” He kept bowing, bringing a touching smile to the Lich Lord’s cold face.

“Lovely. Now, I believe we have a dungeon to crawl through.”

“Bell, stay low. Keep your knife pointed. They should only see the point.” For a new adventurer, the Cranel boy was average. He moved well due to his small frame, but he struggled in decisive blows, a natural challenge for someone using a knife. The seventh floor was the same as it was before, though entering it again brought an excited feeling for the immortal. “Don’t kill it—dodge it as much as you can.” The war shadow was eerily silent. It swiped at Bell viciously, but would pause again and again.

Monsters could be strangely intelligent at times. It fainted and flurried its attacks as much as it could. “Bell, Kill it in one action.” The young adventurer complied. Though the shadow was tall and lanky, bell swiped at its throat, killing it instantly. “Well fought.” the two had traversed the multiple floors for a few hours, and he could see the clock in Bell’s body tick towards exhaustion. “What do you say Bell? End it here?”

“I suppose so… my goddess doesn’t want me to push myself any harder than I am.”

“How touching. And your goddess is..?”

“Oh! She’s Hestia. I think she is the Lady of the—!”

“Hearth.” The Lich said. “Your goddess is Vesta?”

“Vesta? No, shes Hestia.” Bell corrected gently.

“No, Bell, she is Vesta. That's another name for her. She is widely worshiped in Olympia.” Bell looked at him bewildered, and The Lich mirrored the expression. ‘This is too perfect…’

“Really! That’s amazing!” Bell looked at the picture of happiness. “I should introduce you to her! I’m supposed to treat her to dinner tonight—why don’t you come along! You’ve helped me collect a lot of stones today.”

Thales had not felt shame hollow his form since leaving his tomb, but it crept upon his mind like a monster, lashing into his consciousness with unworthiness. It felt wrong to meet with the goddess of the Hearth, not since he parted from Olympia thousands of years ago—

‘^Fire. He saw fire in his mind. He saw the earth erupt, the seas rising and clouds of darkness weep burning stars. He saw it—the monster with a thousand faces, covered in coal black and rising steam. It was Typhon, the devourer of gods.^’

“Mr. Thales? Are you—?” The Lich jumped back from Bell, the word {Abdo} on his tongue.

“Sorry Bell, you startled me.” Thales gave a long, exasperated breath. “Let’s continue, shall we?” The young adventure eyed him carefully, before following along. The upper floors are easy to traverse, as is their nature. Blue and green light miserably lit the way, and the two carefully avoided monster houses and other frightening dead ends. Along the way, they spotted other adventurers transporting large monsters in strong unshakable cages. “Do you know what this is for, Bell?”

“I think my advisor called it Monsterpheria. It's an event the Ganesha familia puts on every year. They tame monsters in the colosseum as a spectacle.” Thales couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“I see…” the two kept moving until they reached the end of the dungeon. Bell would ask simple questions about the dungeon and fighting. Thales explained survival and safe zones to him, as well as the secrets to monster houses, the diabolical traps for adventurers.

When they reached the surface, Bell let out a sigh of relief. “By the way, Mr. Thales,” It was well into the evening when they climbed out of the dungeon. “You never answered me if you wanted to meet with my goddess.”

Thales looked to the top of the Babel, where the lingering eyes now stared at him. “Perhaps. Shall we meet in the Hostess?” Bell gave a curt nod, and waved goodbye.

Thales entered the Babel, and took the elevator all the way to the Babel's summit.

Chapter Text

CH.5 LOVE OF ALL KINDS

Thales loved safe exploration. Abandoned libraries, ancient cathedrals and castles, and all things without the strength to destroy him. Just having a Phylactery made everything ‘safe’ in a way—but it could take days to bring you back. With how much knowledge and achievement the last Lich lord possessed, all of Orario was a ‘safe’ exploration. But even so, he knew not what was awaiting him at the Babel’s top. It could be none other than a god, and with the look it gave Bell, they had to be quite the flirtatious God. He carried with him the bags of clothes he had brought down to the dungeon with Bell.

Awaiting him was perhaps one of the largest men Thales had ever seen—not quite close enough to the man he once knew as ‘Exekias.’ He was a Boar human, with rusty hair and eyes. He was the epitome of a warrior, and likely the strongest person Thales had seen thus far. “You are here for my goddess.” His voice was deep as well and commanding.

“I am. Will you allow me in?” The boaz nodded and beckoned him further. The Lich had once been to the Babel’s top floor, just after it had been fully constructed by Daedelus. The name gave him a sour taste in his mouth. “What is your name?”

It took the boaz a moment to answer. “I am Ottar, captain of the Freya familia.”

‘Ah, a goddess of love.’ “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The boaz Ottar gave a curt nod back. The warrior led him to a large set of doors made of refined metal. It looked better at keeping things in than out.

The boaz politely held the door open for Thales, and he gave his own nod as he stepped inside.

“Hmmm… I see the view is still immaculate.” The room had one wall of pure glass, which allowed the goddess of beauty to longingly gaze at the world below. The room smelled of sweet wine and old flowers. Next to a mighty throne was a bouquet of pimpernel flowers of varying colors. The goddess herself was silver haired and eyed, possessing a revealing dress.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The voice that would make men fall to their knees sang through space. “I took this from Hera personally.”

“I don’t blame you. She was always a bit…”

“Hysterical? Tyrannical?” Her voice alone could make unkind words sound beautiful. “Ottar, bring a table and chairs for me and our guest.”

“Yes my lady.” Ottar said dutifully. Thales set aside his bags.

“Thank you, I’ve been standing all day.”

“I know.” The boaz came back with a wonderfully carved wooden table and chairs that were set close to the view of Orario. “Allow me to introduce myself—I am Freya, of the Freya familia. Wine?”

“Please, call me Thales. I’m afraid I don’t really remember my true name. Thank you, but I don’t drink.” Her own glass was filled as silence accompanied the room. Both of them gazed down onto the tiny world. The adventurers were ants before them both, and the world looked so fragile from all the way up high. “The last time I was here, an old friend of mine disappeared.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. Irregular mortals such as yourself always find ways to get around.” Thales could tell the goddess of beauty was trying to pick at him. It was strange—seeing as he could obliterate her captain from existence with a few spells.

“Daedelus was such a nut.” Thales smiled fondly, and for the first time the goddess looked at him. “I told him it wouldn’t work—that the gods sought the impossible. I told him it wouldn’t stand forever, that it would exhaust every bit of gold in the world. He took me here, just to prove me wrong. That was the first time someone managed that, for a long, long time. Then he went and disappeared—something about the marvelous dungeon.”

“At least he managed something in his fleeting life.” Her words were uncanny—they sounded foreign coming from her. She likely hadn’t meant it at all.

“An interesting way to call a mortal a mortal.” Thales snickered. “Be frank—many of you gods thought he couldn’t do it either.”

A small smile graced his lips. “Fair enough.” Silence erupted between them again. Both of they’re gazes drifted back to the glass wall. “What are you looking at down there?”

“The adventurers, gods, they're so tiny... I would ask you the same question, but I am sure I know what.” He looked back at her with a smirk. “Or who.” The small smile Thales had earned from the goddess of beauty faded away. “What do you see in him?”

“Hmph… Do you think he is unworthy of me?” She dazzled with a charming smile.

“I have met a few goddesses of beauty—and hundreds more mortal beauties. I often find there is either never enough for them, or they can never reach what they want.” The frankness of Thales' words gave Freya a small moment of pause. “He… Is a good kid. But he needs to get stronger.”

“Hmhm… he is getting stronger.” Freya gave out a tiny chortle. “Did he not tell you how long he has been in Orario?”

“I imagine a month or two, yes?” Thales quirked his brow.

“Only three weeks.” Thales could only smile at Bell Cranel’s continued assortment of surprises. “He received Hestia’s blessing two weeks ago.”

“Is that how long you have been keeping an eye on him?”

“No. I noticed him a few days ago, emerging from the dungeon.” Thales could see the smile of a person truly in love. “His soul… it's transparent. Pure white.” It looked as if it was painful for her to take her eyes off of him. ‘Ah, so that's what she was looking at.’ “Its growing stronger by the day.”

“The way he moved, the floors he’s already traversed…”

“He has something.” Freya concluded the thought. “But that’s not what I’m after.” Freya declared.

“You want his love.”

“More than anything.”

The silence encroached between them. She indulged her gawking at Bell, whilst Thales shifted his gaze all over Orario. He saw the twisted streets of the Daedelus district, the powerful Familia manors all over the dungeon city. He saw ruins that even he couldn’t recognize, and temples and churches that had been made 1000 years ago. “I always enjoyed speaking with gods.” His tone was friendly, despite Freya’s own attitude. “It's nice to speak with other immortals, despite how little they understand of the world.”

Freya scoffed. “You think God’s do not understand the world?”

“The world is easy to understand past 1000. I mean immortality. Eternity. Forever.” the words rolled off his tongue like sweets. “I earned my immortality, my—”

“Stole you mean.” The goddess of beauty chided gleefully. “You simply took others' mortality. And when that little phylactery of yours runs out—what will you even become? An evanescent thought in a world that has already forgotten you. A husk of… well, nothing at all really.”

“Oh, I’ve seen what will become of me. I would hardly call it life.” Thales admitted. “But none of you have truly stared down the truth of time. That is the master of all. Time. If Bell died, would you stop his soul from moving on?”
“Without a thought.” Freya said with mighty conviction.

“He’ll hate you.” Thales enunciated every part of the word hate. “He would beg to return to heaven. That would surely tarnish a soul.”

The issue seemed like nothing to the goddess of love. “I will make him my Odr, and he will understand. He will see my love—”

“Your obsession you mean.” Thales made sure his words were not bridled by harshness. “May I give you advice, o’ goddess of love?”

“I doubt my decline will reach your ears.” She sighed.

“Do not pluck him as if he were a flower. He will die quicker than ever, no matter how vigilant you are over it. Leave him on the earth, and watch him grow. Let him come to you if he pleases. Otherwise, he will never love you. Let him be your hero.”

Her laugh was genuine and sweet. “My hero?”

Thales himself chuckled. “Well, you are alone in a tower, with only a powerful guardian for company.” The Lich gave Ottar a slight glance and a wink. The Boaz seemed entirely unbemused.

The goddess of love seemed lighter than before. “And what of you? What role will you partake in his epic tale?”

“A mentor? A friend? I am entirely unsure. But he needs tutelage. He needs strength—that is the only way for his dream to become a reality. I am so very happy not to know what will happen next.”

“And yet, why you?” A mysterious stare transformed Freya’s face. “You are the Last Lich lord—the epitome of Evil. Will you be his ‘monster rex’ as well?”

“Perhaps that’s what I deserve, after so many centuries. I nearly died to a hero once, and perhaps Bell will finally be the one to do it.”

“Oh my!” She faked a shocked expression. “And here I thought you were the cheery sort.”

Thales looked at her with a face marked by time. “I have met girls and boys half his age beg for death. I’ve butchered warriors, kings, spirits and heroes for the pettiest of reasons. Do you think I am the last Lich lord, simply because the others could not stand the test of time? No, oh god no. I am the last because I made myself the last.”

She stuck her finger out at him, as if she were a detective solving a mystery. “There he is—there is the Lich Lord.” She mocked. She swirled her sweet wine in her glass, thinking of her next words. “I have but one last question for you, then you may take your leave. How old are you?” She asked, curiously.

“Last I remember… 2000.”

“And you were born…?” She quizzed.

“The islands around Olympia.”

She looked confused. “Oh dear, I’m sorry to tell you but, that's not nearly old enough.”

Now it was Thales turn to be puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“The Islands around Olympia sank nearly 6000 years ago. The monster Typhon sunk them into the sea.” The news startled him—but not for long.

“I see… that is why no record of them exists. Thank you. One last question from me, if you’ll allow it.” She nodded gracefully. “Have we met before?”

Freya shook her head quickly. “Not that I remember. What makes you ask?”

“Oh, nothing much at all. Just that tricksy smile of yours… the teasing and the impatience. It reminds me of someone I met recently.” He stood from the wooden seat. “I’d love to chat again sometime, as long as you wish it my lady. As of now, I have dinner planned with a friend.” She stood with him.

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. Your honesty is refreshing compared to Loki.” She gave him her hand, and he gently kissed it before taking his leave. “And Thales?” The immortal whipped his head back. “Do have a splendid time at the hostess. Mia is one of my personal favorites.”

He smiled gratefully. “I’ll remember that.” The Lich traveled down the Babel as Freya sat back in her throne, eyeing the translucent soul.

“Ottar?” The goddess called to her champion.

“Yes my lady?” He responded gently.

“Train harder. Send for the others to serve in your stead. That Lich… I have little faith in immortals such as him. I cannot stand his presence around Dear Bell.” She saw the old soul, splotched with colors that looked putrescent glide down the Babel.

“Yes my lady.” There was an eagerness in his voice; finally, he had a wall to break.

“But do understand Ottar—I doubt you could ever defeat him alone. But should the time come…” It broke Freya’s heart to think of what she nearly said to her champion. She had watched him grow from a child without a name to the supreme of all Orario.

“Yes My lady.” He poured her wine again. “Always.”

Thales found Bell sitting alone, a small refreshment on the lonely table. Mia gave him a holler, and Thales waved back to the host. Nerves that had crept into his mind vanished as he couldn’t see or feel a divine presence nearby. Relief took over, and Bell took notice of him. The boy seemed quite dower.

“Mr. Thales!” He called out. “I’m sorry, my goddess wasn’t able to make it today.

“It's alright Bell.” His tone betrayed a hint of relief. “Let's eat. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.” It was an easy lie for a Lich. In truth, once undeath was achieved, sleep, food, water and every necessity of life was unneeded. If the undead lord still possessed a physical form, they could do these necessities, but why? Sleep takes too much time, and you could have been studying in the meantime.

Thales asked Bell about his favorite stories from childhood, and the boy erupted with knowledge that even the eternal Lich found impressive. Every few moments, Bell would say a name that sent the Lich back in time—either when he met them, or destroyed them.

“Is this what inspires you to be a hero, Bell?” the Lich smiled as the question flowed out of his mouth.

“Some of it, yeah..” The bunny boy smiled earnestly. “My grandfather always wanted me to be a hero.”

“You seem to hold him in a high regard.”

“Of course! He raised me afterall.” A bittersweetness came over Bell. “He used to read me so many stories—he would hand-write them too!”

“He sounds remarkable. What was he like?” Ever since their day out, Thales felt a small kinship with Bell. It grew as Bell continued to speak of legends and heroes. In that moment, Thales truly felt like a teacher.

“He was… perverted. When he told me to go to Orario, he said that I should pick up girls in the dungeon and build a harem.”

“.......That is…rather interesting.” Of all things, Thales never expected that. “A man who loved heroes and women—reminds me of this other guy I used to know….” Food was delivered to their table by Syr, who tried their best to only look at Bell, only offering a curt nod to Thales. At his behest, Bell had ordered steak and potatoes, highly dense and packed with the protein Bell needed. “Bell, I never did ask you.” The rabbit perked up, munching on a potato. “How have you reached so far in the dungeon?”

The boy looked oblivious. “Because I was with you?”

“Bell, please, from what I saw you could have been down there alone.” Bell continued with his blank expression. “Oh, I see. Familia secret huh?” Thales took on an easy smile. “I get it, I get it. Though I must say, I remember a time where cooperation was far more voluntary.”

“I’m doing well?” Bell asked simply.

“Thats what I just said Bell. You are going through the dungeon floors exponentially faster than any starting adventurer I have ever met.” The Lich sighed at his apprentice. ‘Apprentice? Is that what he is to me now?’

“I am?” ‘Is he… he really doesn’t know.’

“Perhaps hard work truly rules the world.” Thales said changing the topic. “Just know Bell, people will take notice eventually. Some secrets perhaps ought to be kept to ones person.”

“I really don’t understand what you're saying… but I kind of do?”

‘He’s going to need a lot of work.’ “Bell, has the Loki familia reached out to you yet?”

“Why would they?” He asked nervously.

Thales let out a sigh. “I asked them to train you up in return for the minotaur incident.” Redness came over the young adventurer.

“W–why..?”

“Hush. They might be a little weak, but they can still help you. I’ll take it as they haven’t reached out?” Bell stared in silence, heat adding to his face more and more.

“I saw Mrs. Wallenstein yesterday in the guild… I think she was searching for someone. But uh… I… ran away.” Listening to Bell fess up was just as humorous as watching him try to tell a lie.

“Well, don’t do that anymore, cause I had to negotiate for that, you see?” ‘Bell’s a special case as always.’

An earnest look came over his reddened face. “I’m sorry she's just—”

“The love of your life?” Thales thought Bell would erupt by the look of his face. ‘Just how red can a boy get? I’ll have to test that..’ “Believe me Bell, I’ve seen that look before.” In the corner of his evil eye, he could see Syr silently taking dishes. “Is that your damsel? Your princess in a tower?” Thales couldn’t help but chortle.

“Please stop…”

The Lich couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, Gorne pameo.” Thales said the words perfectly in his Olympian accent.

Bell furrowed his brows like a rabbit grooming their face. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” The Lich said, still bemused by his student.

“What you just said! I’ve never heard that language. What does it mean?”

Thales blinked owlishly before realizing what he had done. “Ah, sorry. It's an old saying. It’s hard to explain to someone outside of Olympia but in the simplest way I could describe it…” The Lich paused in thought. “Literally, I am calling you a steamed pomegranate. it's a famous fruit over there. You say it when someone is deeply and sheepishly in love.” Thales let himself die down a bit. “Bell, take their advice. It has been a long time since I have been in the dungeon, and they likely have plenty of… modern experience.”

“Does your falna make you, like, super young?” Bell quizzed. “Are you a really high level adventurer?”

“Something like that.” Thales lied. “Bell.” He called for his students' attention. “I’m going to be gone for a little while, but do not fear the Loki familia. Take their training, and remember—bring flowers every time—”

“Mr. Thales!” Bell squeaked.

Thales looked again at Syr, who had neglected to take their plates. “Alright, get out of here Bell. You’ll need rest for the days to come.” The young adventurer bowed and thanked him, and skedaddled out of the tavern, parting with Syr and the rest of the staff.

Mamma Mia wordlessly sat at the counter. There were plenty of adventures in the hostess. Syr was taking orders when Thales lifted his index finger, as if to cast a spell on the waitress. Mama Mia and an Elf stared at him, waiting for something, anything.

“There she is.”

Chapter Text

CH.6 HIGH NOVICE

“Raul! Raul!” Anakitty shouted. Raul, the level 4 of the Loki familia was adeptly focused with his rapier. The midday sun beamed down onto the veteran adventurer and his opponent: a mortal model, full of dots and holes. Little red splotches littered arteries and vital areas—Raul was not particularly fast nor strong for a level 4, but he could still practice enough—he had no weapon to truly call his own, like Finn his Spear and Ais her sword. On the ground near him were maces, longswords, bows, crossbows, daggers and spears. “Raul!”

His attention finally shifted to Anakitty, standing a few meters away. “Sorry! I was in the zone.” Raul Murmured.

“Loki wants to see us—she said to be really quick about it. Line and Alicia are already there.” Raul couldn’t remember the last time Loki had personally summoned him. He liked his god, though her antics could be too much to bear. The two dashed down the hallways of the Twilight manor, passing adventures who came back early from the dungeon, or the rare sort who left deep into the day. As the two reached the stairs, Anakitty turned to him. “Oh and uh… be polite.”

Loki’s room was elaborate, though it possessed little flavor. The walls were fine wood and the floor covered in red carpet. The Jester was carved into the doors and the few stonework's and banners that lay around the room. The bed was a mess, as every maid always quit after a few days. Small stains were prevalent over the rug, each reeking of hard liquor and wine. Raul spied Alicia, Lefiya, Line. Cruz and Elfy waiting for them on small chairs near the balcony. Tea and cookies had been settled on a fine table between Loki and another man near the curtains, though her side of the plate had barely been touched.

“Kitty!” The goddess leopard out of her chair jumped at Anakitty, intending to grab the girl who swiftly ducked away. ‘Anakitty was always so graceful.’ Raul admired.

“Loki, do you always need to jump on me?” Anakitty sighed, used to the goddess’s torment. Lefiya. Elfy and Alicia sighed collectively as Cruz chuckled.

“Is this how you greet every woman?” The man near the curtains asked. The man was around Raul’s age, unshaven, with a full head of curly brown hair. His eyes were startling as they scanned through Anakitty and Raul. His left was red and the right grey. He was dressed like a man going to a summer party, with a fine white dress shirt and long beige trousers. His shoes were new and bright brown. He sat at one leisure, unintimidated by the high class adventurers around him. “You need more class.”

“Can it Thales!” Loki shouted. The man sighed, taking a sip of tea. The goddess gathered herself off of the scarlet floor. “This is the last o’ em. Say Hello Raul.” Anakitty’s words flashed in his head. He bowed deeply and carefully.

“Hello Sir, I am Raul, I’m part of the second class division.” Nervousness pervaded the room.

“Good day to you.” He gave a curt nod. “So this is your merry band Loki? 7 hopeful trainees for me to take under?”

Loki sat down kindly. “If ya don’ mind.” She gave a strangely gracious smile. The usually fatuous goddess was prim and proper around the man. “They all got good spirit! I can tell ya that fer sure.” The air around the man grew older every second.

The man named Thales gave Loki a proper stare. “Spirit’s good.” He seemed to enjoy having the rousty goddess corralled. Lefiya shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “So how exactly—what’s that sword you got on your hip boy?” He pointed a bony finger at Raul. The adventurer grimaced as everyone stared towards him. Even Loki flashed her scarlet eyes at him.

“It’s my Rapier.” Raul was about to pluck the sword from its sheath, but thought the man would find it rude. He undid the straps to his belt and stiffly walked to the man. Raul eyed a basket of assorted items, even things from Loki’s personal collection, all tied with a veil and a ribbon as a gift. Thales took the sword from Raul and unsheathed it, marveling at the blade silently.

“In my day, having something like this was special.” A smile flashed on his face. “It's been a while since I’ve fought with one of these.” He handed it back to Raul. “Loki, let the boy sit down.” Raul was shocked to see his goddess bow her head and offer her fine seat to him. “Tell me about yourself—and you, girl.” He said pointing at Anakitty, who stood next to Line and Elfy.

Raul sat timid, and Anakitty took the initiative to ease his burden. “I came to Orario when I was 13.” She said softly. “I’ve been here with Raul for 8 years now, back back when the dark period really kicked off.”

Raul was surprised that Anakitty spoke with so little confidence. He introduced himself with even less. “Me and Aki have been leading the second string for a while now.” He rubbed his neck with his leather glove. “She’s usually in charge a bit more than I am—all of us here are pretty good fighters.. Or at least I’d say so.” The words stumbled out of his mouth.

Thales sighed deeply and he could feel Loki’s ashamed stare. “Pretty good fighters? You need more vocabulary.” The man spoke in an accent Raul didn’t recognize.

“Loki, does the adventurers' graveyard still have that big open field? The one by the Heroes bridge?”

Loki perked up. “Yup.”

Thales eyes scanned over the room again. “You’re lucky I’m bored. I’ll take these three.” He jerked his finger to Cruz, Line, and Elfy. “And these two.” His eyes drifted over Raul and Anakitty.

“But what about the lil elves?” Loki balked. “Alicia and Lefiya are good qual—”

“I don’t like elves.” He said it was a fact of life to be remembered. “They have plenty of time to surpass themselves.” Lefiya looked down embarrassed while Alicia had a great disdain imprinted on her eyes. Her mouth opened to speak, and he could see Loki ready to silence her—but then Thales looked at her, a stare petrifying to any. “Now!” He said, strangely cheerful. “Meet me by the heroes bridge by 4. If you're late, never speak to me again. Loki, dinner at 7 you said?” The goddess nodded.

“If you don’t mind,” Loki said cautiously. “I’d like to watch. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Raul and Aki fight.” Alicia angrily left the room, Lefiya timidly stepping behind her.

“Splendid.” Loki escorted him away, the air felt like it had been brought to its knees. “See you all then. Wear something light—you're not going to a dungeon!” He chortled kindly, as did Loki. They’re goddess came back a few minutes later as everyone discussed the strange man.

“Loki, who was that?” Cruz said.

“I hope to high Hestia, your new teacher.” Raul had never seen Loki sigh so much. “You guys better impress him. You have no idea how much ass kissin’ I had to do just to get im’ here.”

“Why do we need a teacher? We might be the second string Loki, but we're far from newbies.”

“To him, y’all are toddlers.” Loki huffed. “This is an opportunity once in a lifetime. I want to see each of ya outside the manor in 30, and if ya ain’t there, I’ll never update them’ falna’s ever again.” Loki took a swig from a cup. “And Raul?”

“Y-yeah?”

“He said ya have to bring the rapier.”

“There e’ is.” Loki murmured next to Raul. “Stay here, imma talk to him for a second.” Thales stood there, in front of the statue of Albert Waldstein. Loki slowly and awkwardly inched towards him, standing there with him in silence.

“He was shorter than this.” A faint smile graced his lips. “I’ll never forget the first time I fought him. Gods, he was a warrior. That trick he pulled with Aria nearly got me in a single hit.” He chuckled lightly.

“I never watched his struggle, no matter how much the other gods wouldn’t shut up about it.” Loki smiled at him. “He must have been a once in a milenia sorta deal, huh?”

“That's putting it lightly.” He lifted a rapier from his side, elegant and old. “I had the honor, and the privilege of sparring with him before the Dragon fell upon us.” Loki was disturbed to see him shutter. “Even with so little footwork he could strike so very quickly, and so very powerfully. I was never a talented swordsman, and for a long time I saw it as useless art. Then, I grew out of that when a knight tore out my Larynx, and for nearly 4000 years after that, I trained and studied with the best—even taught some of them.”

“Ya sure you're not a bit rusty?” Loki grinned.

“Oh, absolutely….” He faced her, a scoundrel's smile on his lips. “But you’ve brought me some aspiring heroes—and their confidence amuses me.” He trotted away from them. The field had a large willow tree next to the river that ran beneath the heroes bridge. It was sat on an angle, of which he took the highest position. Loki watched as he instructed the 5 to gather beneath him.

Raul eyed the man carefully. The air of an old man flourished around him. Each of them dress neatly at Loki’s behest. If the weapons they carried hadn’t already spoiled the image, they might have looked as if they were at a summer barbeque. “What exactly is your regiment gonna look like?” Raul asked nervously.

“It's already begun.” Mr. Thales said with a smirk. “Look at me—what do you see?”

“A human…” Cruz mumbled.

“Obvious, but that's something at least.” Thales said. “Look at my weapon, my posture and position.”

“You have a rapier!” Elfy said. “And you have the High ground.”

“Yes, but what kind of rapier. Why do I have the high ground?”

“It's a swept hilt.” Raul murmured.

“Good—what does that tell you?”

“Uh,” Raul mumbled and murmured long enough for the instructor to silence him with a glance.

“If you're thinking of an answer, think in silence.” He pointed the weapon at them in a stance Raul recognized. “Don’t waste time with wasteful words.”

“It's a decorative design for a well functioning weapon.” Thales' head snapped to Anakitty. “You have good clothes too, which means you probably have some money.”

“Well done.” Raul looked down to the floor with quivering eyes. He couldn’t match the stare of the man. “It also permits the assumption that I’ve had a good education with this weapon. Now, what are its weaknesses?”

Line found her confidence. “It doesn’t fully protect your hand.” She squeaked.

“And what is the best way to exploit that weakness?”

Raul had felt the pain of a thrust to the hand before. “An upward thrust.” Raul said it strongly, though his body was trembling. ‘So much for a level 4 adventurer….’

“Yes. Well said. Now forget the weapon—though keep your eye on it—look at my posture, my eyes, what do they show.”

Raul felt the others silently judging—he didn’t stammar or mumble. “You're using the Rezadests form.” Thales blinked owlishly, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“And pray tell, what does that mean?”

“Your weight isn’t on your back leg because you're not gonna lunge.” Raul clarified. “You’ll circle us to gain control.”

“Rudimentary, but correct. But you have yet to watch for one last thing—where have I been looking?”

“At us,” Anakitty murmured. “You’ve barely blinked.”

“Indeed. But that means I haven’t been looking for an escape. Why might that be?”

Anakitty drew her sword. Line and Elfy readied their magic and Cruz put himself in front of them. “Because you think you can take us.” Aki said gravely.

“Incorrect.” Thales smirk widened. “I know I can take you.” Elfy began chanting and Line readied herself as dreadful air permeated the world. Fear escaped Raul like a chimney and smoke. “Good instincts, mage.”

Raul could tell those were the last words Thales would speak to them. Cruz took the strongest defence he could, right in front of the mages—

Thales had disappeared. Raul was used to sparring with the fastest of adventurers, and instinctively bought his sword closer to his body.

A blow had knocked his sword to the side—but he was gone again in a flash. The swipe that had unbalanced Raul was strangely weak—’he liked my form…’

Aki did the same, and the rapier rapped her sword as well. Cruz followed suit—but Elfy and Line had been in the middle of chanting.

“Dead.” Thales held his rapier against Elfy’s throat.

He swept over them again, going from Raul to Aki, striking at their guards—Line was only Level two, and she as well felt the cool rapier against her neck.

“Cruz right?” Thales appeared right behind Raul’s friend. “You don’t usually guard mages, do you?”

“No sir…” Cruz murmured.

“Do better. Elfy, and Line was it? Stand up, You’re back to life.” Thales returned to the top of the hill, his moment agonizingly slow. “Let’s try again.”

Raul was rounded on. The cuts and pokes came so fast it felt as if he had taken them all at once. His guard was firm, and the teacher approved.

Aki was not so lucky. He came at her from the back, unlike Raul, and left a gash on her cheek just half in inch from her eye. Half a heartbeat later, Aki turned around, only to find Thales at her back once more.

“Watch out Aki!” Raul rushed without thought, using a reckless thrust to drive Thales back. Thales grasped Rauls rapier by the tip.

“Weave, Tapestry of storm.” The air smelled like ozone and the brightest flash of power Raul had ever seen entrapped Aki. She held it within a box of electricity. Thales jumped back. The distant chants gave Raul pause, Cruz hadn’t moved, and Raul felt his back frizzle in front of the lightning box.

“With one chant, that little box there will explode. You might get away in time—but she won’t.” Thales said it without an inch of emotion. “What will you do? Send your magic my way, and I’ll chant my little word of power.”

Raul gritted his teeth, and widened his eyes at the unstoppable man.

“What will you do?” He commanded, pride high in his voice. Raul glanced at Cruz before nervously setting his eyes back on the Teacher.

“You won’t do it!” Raul said chittery.

“Why?”

“Because I want a duel!” The Cuts on his body still poured red.

“A duel? What kind?” Raul could hear Aki whimper, and a buzz from the electrical prison.

“Just me and you, to first blood—!” Every instinct Raul had screamed at him. He shot a wink at Elfy and Line.

“

” Line shouted her magic, and the cuts dissipated.

“Very well.” He tapped his own shoulder with the rapier and then put the edge right between his eyes. “Elementra hale Cecuh.” Raul nervously saluted back.

They inched towards each other. Raul mimicked his stance, and with the tips of their blade they made contact. Raul weakly tried to gain control of the bind, only for Thales to either overtake him or fall back. Raul dared not look at the handle, for fear that his next attack would be discovered.

“

” When Raul heard Elfy make the chant, he pushed forward, thrusting and cutting as much as he could.

“I thought it was just me and you.” Thales said with a smirk etched on his face.

Raul did everything he could to force Thales’s attention on himself. The Spellblade effortlessly parried or with graceful footwork stepped his attacks aside.

“

” ‘The chant is almost over!’ Raul put every ounce of his weight on his back leg, and made a daring thrust. Fire sparkled in the corner of his eyes.

Thales let go of his rapier, and grabbed hold of his students like he had before. The ball of flame soared to him with fury—he neither braced or flinched.

“

.” Raul felt intolerable heat. Three slashes the size of Raul and Aki combined eviscerated the fireball. Elfy sighed, and prepared another enchantment. Thales jumped back to the high ground.

“Not bad for a novice.” Thales smiled fondly. “Good timing—your trust in each other is remarkable.”

Loki sighed deeply on the heroes bridge. The stone monuments coldly looked over them all.

Chapter Text

CH.7 LEGACY

Fels was not squeamish. They had lived as mere bones for centuries, and would continue to do so until they turned to dust. It was not without its benefits—Fels has mastered the art of playing dead. If the museum guard rounded the corner, they could be just another exhibit. Although in frankness, they’d be one of the few of their time. The Orarian Institute of History and Culture had once been two separate museums—One dedicated to the History of Orario and its dungeon, and the other to the rest of the world. Eagle eyed visitors would notice the great lack of artifacts and records from 751–699 C.D. The causal explanation would be that the Orario fire that ignited the city in 698. The museums had nearly turned to ash, and were eventually conjoined into one entity.

Not even the ashes of those 52 years were ever recovered.

There was a fire, truth be told, that Fels had witnessed 698 years ago. But that was after a series of other fires and truly scaring battles which conveniently wiped the true name of the most powerful sorcerer to have ever existed beneath the heavens;

His former master, the newly dubbed Thales Agath.

He was old. Fels was something of an expert on that subject. But even they felt like nothing compared to the undead sorcerer who’s age surmounted a hundred empires and a billion souls. Fels heard his former master's oblivion-laced words in his ears, on the day were the formerly living being asked his master just how old he truly was:

‘Civilization was the new thing.’

Those words haunted Fels for so long. The necromancer said it so casually, that it nearly came off as a joke.

‘Help me find my history, won’t you, dear Fels?’ His now oblivious master requested the day before. ‘The Codex won’t give me a lick of a memory, or even the first letter. I asked if we could play hangman for it, but it nearly burned down the kitchen when I asked…’

6000 years was a lot to cover. Of 1852 artifacts collected and cycled through the museum quarterly, less than half a hundred dated to the age of heroes. The oldest of all was the crown of the last king of Lakrios.

But in that moment, the most interesting was the log of a captain 400 years before Albert Waldstein’s sacrifice.

AUG 3rd, [The gods have blessed us. ‘Fair Fertility’ runs as smoothly as she ever has. The Count gifted us with gold a plenty. Just the down payment could afford me 3 more ship hands. Just thinking of the rest takes the Tedium out of keeping his artifacts in tip top shape.]

AUG 4th, [That Count is a noble fellow, no matter what Darrol says. We haven’t seen a grey cloud in sight. Oscar fell over during the storm, and drowned before we could pull him up. But the Count did something—some sort of magic I’d never seen before. He told me it was power he got from a spirit, believe it or not. Oscar’s not the same though. He can talk, but only in dribbles. He can walk, but he looks like a drunkard who picked a fight with the wind. The Count promised me it was normal, said to give him plenty of rest and space.]

AUG 9th, [Oscar ain’t getting any better. Our only blessing is clear skies. His sickness makes him smell rotten and damp. The Count advised us to stay away from him. I can hardly tell what it is. No fever or pox makes a man smell like that. Darrol thinks the Count’s spells are no good. The seas haven’t challenged us yet—but it's always grey in the heavens. Micken fell over too, but no one was awake to drag him out of the waves.]

AUG 13th, [I’ll have to send my thanks to the heavens. Oscar’s made a full recovery, and ever since Jiggen and Zeno put each other down the Decks have been in despair. He’s not much talkative now, but Oscar will be making us laugh yet. Still not a storm has forced us to brace, nor has a single monster prowled the waves. Even Micken’s body only had a bite on him.]

The rest of the month had been soiled by spilled ink, which had created a mass of black void on parchment.

SEPT 2nd, [Gods, I beg, keep your blessings on the sea. Oscar has nothing left in him. No laughter, no smiles, and no blood. He’s as pale as a ghost. The Count looks older by the day. He’s grown a beard faster than I’ve ever seen. Daniel, Gerald, Thomas and Steve were all swallowed up by a ship serpent that had snuck into the lower deck. I don’t know how it hid down there. Darrol has been shady around the count lately. The others are getting impatient. Oscar reeks of heavy perfume that only the noble sort could get. The ship serpent hadn't been made for the provisions, so all of the supplies are top notch. I gave the men a bit more food than I should; but they need it. Jerry, Thank the gods for Jerry. He ripped the serpent in two with his bare hands. The men are happier after seeing that—the signs are clear. Were only 10 days away from Melen, thank the gods.]

SEPT 5th, [It was a clear sky again today. Jerry’s been missing for two days. The mast swung wildly, and Oscar took the hit. His jaw popped off like a wishbone. He just stood there, staring at me and the count. Jims was found in a lifeboat, and Godfrey in the other. When we pulled the Anchor, there was Jerry, or at least, there was a quarter of him. It looked like a flaming sword had carved him up. We're only a week from Melen now.]

SEPT 6th [Gods, save me. Darrol stabbed the count with my own sword. HE just stood there. The count ripped him in two faster than Jerry did the ship serpents. Those things came from the boxes and the hull. They gobbled up everything they saw. Jims, Godfrey and Oscar were holding me down. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the smell.]

SEPT 7th, [The Count either keeps me in the crows nest or my quarters. He’s left me enough ink to drown myself in, and enough food and beer to last me a year. He wants these little logs. There gonna be his trophies when we reach Melen. God, he’s old. His beard reaches down to his chest and his hair is just as long. But his eyes; he still has the goddamned eye. His serpents watch over me, day and night. I see their eyes staring at me in the darkness. I smell their scales in every breath. I smell Oscar’s perfume like a ghost hovering over me, waiting for me to look about and die in horror. The skies are clear.]

Fels scribbled every last note onto their own parchment. A large folder served as their hard surface. It was filled with references, stories and legends of powerful immortals from thousands of years past. Fels was sure his old master had assumed at least half of those identities (though hopefully not the one about a skeleton bathing in orphan blood). Fels nervously complied with his master's demand. He couldn’t outright refuse Thales if they wished to keep their history a secret.

The withered skeleton briskly strided through the museum's underbelly. Fels looked for a name—not his masters name, but instead that of an ancient and vanquished foe.

“”Ethel The Evil.”” Fels master told him the story so long ago. There were once a fair many immortals in the world, most of whom plagued it. Many of them died after the Argonauts legacy sparked the golden age of heroes—but many of them quarreled. In such long lives as those, only the oldest could truly stay above them all.

Ethel the Evil had been one of the first recorded immortals ever scribbled onto parchment. A high elf of the Alf royal forest, they had attained lichdom just as The Necromancer had—but they had not nearly enough power.

“”She terrorized the world from the Elcos to the Dragon Valley.”” Fels master had once said. “”She wanted a duel—perhaps it was to cement her legacy. I was rather well known in those times…””

‘What happened?’ Fels had asked.

“”She started saying something, then I said something, and her body went this way and that way.””

Fels hoped for a mention of her death in some forgotten text.
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The south corner bar played music every hour till the night until the sun reared its ugly round head. The guild had done a marvelous job in giving him his own apartment. He was on the top floor, high enough to peer over the Orario district, but low enough to hear the bands performance. Thales had fond memories of music. The woman with red hair who captivated his vision seemed right there in front of him, ready to dance.

His apartment housed many of his weaker artifacts, all of which were on display. Things without names that could kill the most ferocious of monsters with a cut. He had a large kitchen (a personal demand, along with the antique grandfather clock) with a guest room and a wide living space. The balcony was wide, with multitudes of plants and vines. A well stained wooden table sat beneath a lovely canopy. There were shelves upon shelves of books everywhere.

But instead, he found Loki staring at him strangely. The goddess and her second string adventurers collapsed in his home after hours of instruction. She was helping him in the kitchen; or at least, as much as she could. He took out chicken and beef which had been marinated in ways lost to time. Thales made skewers of buttered, balsamic chicken and honeyed steak. Fresh green and red peppers were charred with large quartered onions. Thales had never seen adventurers eat so fast. Thales brought out wine meant only for guests (which means all of it) and served it neatly. Loki polished three glasses in 7 minutes. Raul and his group took one sip and fell drunk.

“I don’t remember Elfy being such a lightweight.” Loki flashed a toothy smirk. “Did you really have ta drug my kids?”

“I’d rather just speak with you.” Thales said light heartedly, gingerly sipping his tea. “Immortal too semi-immortal.”

“Semi-immortal?” Loki snarked. “Not a single Lich woulda ever described their cold little bodies like that. How did ya get them with just a sip?”

Thales returned his own smile. “It takes a lot of potions to be a Lich.” Just a pinch of dust put them asleep. “And I’d say semi-immortal is the best way to describe it. After All, I can still die.” Thales forced the words out of his throat.

“It’d take a tough son of a bitch.” Thales looked at the abnormally cheery goddess.

“Alright Loki.” Thales set the tea down making a sharp clangor. “Flattery from you is a strange thing. You won—I’ll make Raul my apprentice and the others my students.”

“Raul?” The goddess opened her eyes. “What do you mean by apprentice?”

“I like the boy. He reminds me of my other apprentice. I’ve taken him under my wing. Consider your generosity thoroughly rewarded.” The table of blacked-out adventurers left a sully mark in the corner of his eye.

“Ha! You’re not the only one.” Loki took a large swig from her glass. “My captain saw somethin’ in em’ too. Says Raul could be a great successor.”

“Do you not believe it yourself?”

“He needs a jump in ‘is soul.” Loki sighed. “He’s fought the evils and monsters, but every time he crawls through the dungeon he still comes back misty eyed.”

“You could say that again. The other girl—Aki right?----Was she some noble girl?”

“Yuppers. Didn’t wanna marry some old relic. You might know somethin’ about that.” Loki jabbed.

“A tale as old as time.” Thales said, his voice a basso.

“Song as old as rhyme.” Loki finished the song. The both of them laughed it off, and Thales made a smile filled with mirth.

“You know that play?” The memory of stages and production filled his head. The musical of the century it had been called. ‘It should have been the musical of the milenia.’

“I always had a soft spot for actors and the theatre.” Loki smiled sweetly. “You as well?”

“I think so.” Thales frowned sardonically. “I have snippets here and there of a noble life. Immortals go through so many phases, you know what I mean? I saw a funny looking clam the other day, and it reminded me of a time where I lived in a lighthouse.” Loki chortled at that.

“Ya don’t have to tell me.” Loki said. “I see why ya took this place. The music is everywhere.” She took a bite out of a half aten skewer. “And by Thor’s pansy skirt, you can really throw down.”

“Why thank you.” Thales gave her a nod. “Funny enough, when I brought your familia here, I half expected them to start dancing.” The music picked up with a pert play, a fiddle and a flute taking charge. “Do people not dance anymore?”

Loki’s smirk flickered. “Nah, not my kids, or most adventurers their age. Outside o’ the dungeon, its like they have no life.”

“A certain one comes to mind?”

“My Aizu. The one who found ya for me.” Thales remembered seeing the golden-haired girl stroll into the alley, asking awkwardly for him to follow her to the Twighlight manor.

“She’s a bit of an airhead, ain’t she?”

“You have no idea. Normally I don’t advocate this, but I’ve begged her to pick up a book once in a while.” Loki looked more flustered with every sip of wine.

“Might I ask, how did she find me?” Thales had found it rather odd how she just appeared in front of him, out of the blue.

“That’s the thing…” Loki begrudged her words. “She said ya had a kind of pull around ya. It was weird to hear her say it, and ever since you called her ‘Aria’ in the pub, she’s been on edge. ‘Specially after her last few dungeon dives.”
“Well… she certainly looked like an old acquaintance..” Thales' mind debated his next few words. “She’s Alberts daughter… isn’t she?” Thales kept his words as strong as he could.

Loki’s eyes turned sad at the voice of an immortal broken by a thousand lives. “Who?”

Thales stared at her, a neutral expression written over an ancient face. Loki stared back. “You’re right.” Thales said abruptly. “Though I’ll admit, they look so similar. I’ll keep a… sturdy eye on her. Lend her my protection if the need arises. That’s the least I can do.”

“She might beg for more.” Loki sighed. “Once she hears that Raul is your new apprentice, she might go after ya.”

“I’ll have to refuse. I’d be a bit awkward for one of my other apprentices.”

“How so?”

“She might just be the apple of his eye.” Thales chuckled. “Though it would be fun to embarrass him.”

“What?!” Loki screeched. “No way! He can’t have my Aizu!”

“Frankly, I don’t blame him.” Loki continued her rambling tirade. “The most beautiful women seem to be in Orario.”

That stopped the goddess of trickery. “I know right!” Loki banged her fist against the table. “I thank myself every day that I came here.”

The band picked up, and the fiddle hissed while the flute sang. Thales glanced at the table of sleepy adventurers. “Its such a shame they don’t dance anymore.”

Loki stared at him drunkenly. “What is this? Some round-a’bout way of gettin’ me on my feet?” Loki lurched to her feet. “Lets dance oldy.”

“If you insist.” The two took to each other. The band slowed their pace, and Thales dipped and swayed with Loki. He was doing practically all of the moves, but she danced and swung with him, gentle breezes pushing them along.

“I could see it in yer eyes. Face it,” Loki grinned. “You’re hopelessly in love with me.”

Thales never laughed harder in his life. “Oh? Perhaps I’m just trying to butter you up.”

“Nah, nah.” Loki opened her scarlet eyes to the world. “Some long lost love, ain’t it? I’ve seen the look. Who was the woman who stole a cold heart like yers?”

Thales stopped swaying, but kept her hand. “The truth is, I can’t remember her name. Even her face is a mystery. It’ll happen eventually, but it's torturous. I know she had… red hair? Maybe wine colored?”

“Maybe it was just me playin’ a lil old trick on ya. Disguises and acting are part of my forte.” Loki smirked.

“Was that something you did? Did you pretend to be her?”

For a horrifying moment, Loki was genuinely lost in thought. “Nah.” She said, bring relief to them both. “I wasn’t lookin’ towards Olympia in those days. I was havin’ fun up north with the rest of the Aesir.”

“You really scared me their.” Loki let out a cheery laugh. “How did you come to that conclusion? Surely you can’t just see it in a look?” Thales inquired. ‘Have I really let my guard down this much?’

“Ya wouldn’t stop staring at me.” Thales delivered her to a chair, and using his hand she gracefully sat down.

“Oh…” Awkwardness took hold of Thales, and Loki enjoyed looking at the embarrassed immortal. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no.” Loki began. “It was quite flattering.”

Thales let out a chortle. “I don’t mean to sound old-fashioned, but in my day staring at ‘beautiful’ women was not as… demeaned.”

“What ever yer tryin’ to butter me up for, just ask for it now. Yer makin’ me blush.” The both of them heard a snort from the adventuring table.

“Oh, they're getting up soon. What should we tell them?” Thales sighed.

“I got this. Just tell ‘em we had a good old drinking game.” Loki swiveled out of her chair and chugged every last drop of wine that remained in their drinks, before taking a seat at their table. “Thales?” She called.

“Yes?”

“Thanks fer takin’ my kids. Imma be seeing ya soon. You look way to lonely up here. Just make sure ya cook up——!” Loki’s face fell to the table, snoozing away.

Thales looked out to the starry night sky. It had changed so much since his boyhood. The band slowed down, and its marvelous melodies were drifted by a caring wind.

“Really I’m so—”

“It’s alright, Raul.” Thales said kindly. The young man's face was flushed with embarrassment. A passed out Loki was carried on his back. “Be ready for next time, and bring all of the weapons you want. I know I will.” Raul sighed, and the second string of the Loki familia returned to their manor.

Thales journeyed back up the many flights of stairs. He had a lot of plates to clean, despite the group's help in their collection. He put on a banyan made 900 years ago in the far east, and returned to his floor.

On the coffee table just above the codex, layed a folder. A small note sat atop it.

‘I collected all I could find for now. Happy reading.’

Thales thought of the fleshless shadow staring at him from afar. Wondering if they should put all of Orario on alert. Thales’s memory was returning faster than he thought it would. The codex was eerily quiet, daunted by the silence. Thales took the folder and sat in the chair just in front of the fireplace. The papers inside remained unopened and unread, but he could see a thousand grinning faces looking down upon him.

‘Best to sleep on this.’ Thales left the folder on the chair, and went to his unused bedroom. Liches were undead—sleeping, eating and even breathing was all together unnecessary. But sleep was the most dangerous of all. There was no rhythm or waking call that could force an undead to abandon slumber. Dreams become eternal nightmares and then switch back to simple, evanescent thoughts. Even in his fleshy form.

Thales closed his eyes, the faces still marking him with snark.