In the beginning, there had been a dream. A desire to save others.

  To ensure nobody had to suffer like he once did. Freezing and starving on the streets, on the run from a slaver that sought to butcher and sell him for parts. Backed into an alley and falling to the ground. His legs failing him, his hope abandoning him.

  He’d had nothing left. Only a quiet, desperate plea for someone, anyone, to save him.

  In the end, it was his magic that had responded. It had torn his body apart in the process, but it had saved his life.

  Since that day, he had gained new duties and responsibilities. First as the student of that man, then as the servant of Death. He’d grown older. Learned more about the world. Witnessed the cruel and brutal depravities of humanity.

  His experiences had hardened him, made him more weary and jaded. Such had been necessary.

  But at the core of it all, buried beneath the layers of cynicism and realism and stoicism, had resided that simple, childish dream.

  It was that dream that had driven him to relentlessly keep on moving forward even as his body became more fractured and scarred with every mission.

  It was that dream that had caused him to nearly sacrifice his life time and time again with idiotic suicidal plans because he refused to let someone die.

  And it was that dream that had ultimately led to him making the single greatest, most terrible choice of his life.

  Not much time remains.

  “I know.”

  We have mere weeks, perhaps even days, before it fully awakens. Once it does, this world will fall into ruin. Millions if not billions of souls, both alive and dead, will perish, consumed by that unnatural, aberrant being.

  “... I know.”

  Levi sat at the edge of a colossal rocky cliff overlooking a forest below, his legs dangling over a steep drop and his gaze unreadable as he stared off at some unknown point in the horizon. The moon shone brightly in the night sky, and a faint night breeze rolled through the air, causing his hair and clothes to billow gently.

  Death stood behind him, his cloak errantly swirling around him like a whispering cloud of shadows. His voice, if it could even be called that, seemed graver than usual. The atmosphere between them was tense – and of course it was, considering what they were facing.

  An ancient being, neither god nor demon but something that preceded both, was slowly stirring from its long slumber from within the voided rift between worlds. Over the past year, it had established connections to tens of thousands of mortal souls across the entire world, slowly corrupting them into vehicles it would then use to awaken into the world. If it awoke… when it awoke…

  Well.

  Currently, it exists only in the dreams of mortals, Death said. Its using their souls as a medium to bring itself into existence. Once it manifests into reality, calamity will inevitably follow. You must stop that from happening.

  “How?” Levi asked, his voice quiet. “I spent a year trying to find a way. Called in every favor I had, searched and scoured the eight corners of the world for knowledge, prostrated myself before the gods and fae for help. All to no avail. Severing the connection between the souls and the slumbering being is impossible. Killing the corrupted mortals won’t work, because even if the physical body is dead, the souls themselves will still exist.” He finally turned and looked at Death, his gaze resigned and weary. “So… what would you have me do?”

  He already knew, of course. The solution was obvious. Simple, even. But he still needed to hear Death say it out loud.

  For a long moment, Death didn’t respond. A silence fell over them as they stared at each other, man and reaper.

  Then, without hesitation, Death spoke.

  Destroy them all. Annihilate their very souls. Extirpate every last trace of them till not even dust remains.

  Each word hammered into Levi like an executioner’s axe. He closed his eyes. “Doing so would require using soul magick of the most forbidden,” he said in a whisper. “I don’t even know how many sacred laws that would break. It would have the entire world calling for my head.”

  I know.

  “But more than that…” Levi opened his eyes again to reveal the anguish in his gaze. “You would have me completely eradicate tens of thousands of souls. There would be no afterlife or reincarnation for them. They would be consigned to oblivion for eternity.” His voice broke. “Death, god help me, you would have me take away their right to die.”

  … I know.

  Another silence fell over them, far heavier than the last. Every fiber of Levi’s being protested against the idea. Raged against it vehemently.

  But…

  If he didn’t do this, then even more would die.

  He had to save as many people as possible, didn’t he?

  It was the correct choice.

  Slowly, his expression set with an unfaltering resolve. He stood and turned away from the edge of the cliff.

  “Okay,” he said simply. “I’ll do it.”

  I’m glad to hear that–

  “But… I’ll do it my way. When I destroy their souls, the backlash of the soul magick will fracture my own soul; such is the inevitable price. Before their souls fade away into oblivion, I’ll imprint them onto my own, filling in that crack. I have that ability. It won’t mean much, but this way, at least a part of them will still live on. I’ll carry their sacrifices with me.”

  Death stared at him, and Levi could tell that beneath the layers of reality obscuring his face, his skeletal visage was taken aback.

  If you do that, then you will feel the full weight of their final memories. The combined sorrow and despair of every soul destroyed by your hand. It will drive you mad.

  “Perhaps,” Levi said. “But it’s the least I owe them, isn’t it?”

  Oh, Levi…

  Death studied him for a long moment. He must’ve seen that Levi wasn’t going to be swayed, however, because he nodded. Very well, then. I shall not stop you. May luck smile upon you, my dear servant.

  Eight hours later, countless innocent men, women, and children suddenly collapsed all around the world, their hearts stopping in unison. Top healers, spiritualists, and priests were immediately dispatched to find out why. It didn’t take long to determine the cause.

  Somehow, someway, the victims’ very souls had been utterly destroyed.

  It was horrific. Inhumane. Several of the priests had collapsed into sobs when they’d confirmed it. Even a couple of the demonic spiritualists had looked utterly horrified.

  Alarm bells went off everywhere as every faction in the world went on high alert. Clairvoyants, sages, and spiritual investigators were brought in to identify the culprit. They didn’t have much hopes of success; anyone capable of such a feat would’ve undoubtedly concealed their tracks very well.

  To their surprise, that wasn’t the case. They easily found the one responsible, as if he hadn’t tried to hide himself at all.

  At first, they suspected a frame-up. Agents were sent to confront the man and hopefully prove his innocence.

  They returned with dark, solemn looks on their faces. News spread like a wildfire, sending the earth, heavens, and hells into an uproar.

  Twelve hours after the initial act took place, an order was declared by every major faction of the world.

  For the usage of forbidden soul magick to destroy innumerable mortal souls, the archmage Levi was to be sentenced to death.

  Ever since that day, Levi hadn’t once touched soul magic again. He’d learned, intimately so, why it was considered to be one of the most forbidden fields of magic. He’d locked away all the knowledge he had of it and shoved it into a dark corner of his mind, never again to see the light of day.

  As for his dream… He’d turned his back on it. Someone like him, with so much blood on his hands, no longer deserved to pursue such a pure dream. He thought he’d fully given up on such ideals.

  Until now.

  “Can you?” Qorbin asked again when Levi didn’t respond. He was staring at Levi with a startling intensity. They all were; Liliya looked at him like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and even Hawke had turned from where he was kneeling on his knees to look at Levi with a sudden desperation to his gaze.

  Levi, for his part, pressed his lips together thinly.

  The girl’s damaged, corrupted soul rendered her current existence little more than a desolate husk, an absolute abomination against life. Her grotesque, misshapen form was proof of that. Which made sense; after all, resurrection was one of the few things that nothing, not even magic, could accomplish. Should accomplish.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Death was final. Death was irreversible. Death was absolute. That was how it ought to be. Healing the girl, even if only temporarily, would still be completing the resurrection, and thus violating those sacrosanct rules.

  The first thing Levi had been taught when he’d entered Death’s service was that those rules were to never be broken; indeed, most of the targets Levi had been sent to eliminate were those who’d tried to cheat, reverse, nullify, or otherwise evade Death in some shape or capacity. Healing a resurrected soul… Levi had definitely been sent by Death to kill people for less before.

  If he healed the girl here, there was a good chance that Death would send another one of his servants after Levi himself. Hmm. That was a good question, actually; did Death have any servants in this world? Levi didn’t actually know if Death had any other servants other than him – Death had never mentioned it before…

  At any rate, the correct choice here, of course, was to just let Qorbin put the girl out of her misery.

  …

  Yet, for some odd inexplicable reason, Levi found himself not wanting to make the correct choice this time. He was being foolish, stubborn, perhaps just a little bit suicidal, but…

  Deep within him, the faint embers of an old dream flickered to life once more.

  He looked at Qorbin and Liliya. “Do not tell anyone I am able to do this,” he said. “It’s a secret you must take to your graves.”

  Slowly, they nodded, even as the implication of his words caused them to tense up and their eyes to widen.

  Then, Levi turned toward the girl. This entire time, she had been slowly limping toward Hawke, her movements shaky and uncoordinated. He quickly moved to step in front of her, placing both hands on her shoulders as he peered into her eyes. Twin sightless hollow pits stared back at him as she stopped in place.

  “Papa?”

  “I’m not your father,” Levi said. “I’m a… friend, I guess.”

  “Hurts…”

  “I know. Trust me, I know.”

  With his True Sight, he could see how deformed and corrupted her soul was. The damage was extreme; he doubted anyone in this world – or his previous – could’ve restored her back to full health.

  But a decade serving under Death had been enough for him to pick up a few things here and there. It was that knowledge he used as he manipulated his magic in a way he hadn’t in a long time, channeling his own scarred soul to power the spell. Though he hadn’t cast soul magick in three years, it came back to him like he’d just cast it yesterday, the magick effortlessly coming to life.

  Unlike last time, however, he didn’t use it to kill.

  The soul magick flowed through his hands into the girl’s body with a bright white light, suffusing her entire form. She let out a quiet gasp, almost unconsciously, as slowly but surely, he healed her soul, stabilizing and restoring it to what it once was.

  He was acutely aware that such an act defied the natural order. Resurrection of any kind violated the sanctity of death – the same sanctity he’d once swore to uphold. If Levi were still acting as Death’s servant, his duty would’ve compelled him to kill himself where he stood, and even now his instincts screamed at him, at the sheer wrongness of his actions.

  Even still, Levi continued pouring the soul magick into her body. Sweat rolled down his face and his vision blurred from the effort – and then he froze.

  Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he swore he could see a tall forbidding figure standing in the darkness of the forest, a cloak of curling shadows around its form and an unearthly scythe held by its side. Time seemed to slow to a stop, the air chilling to a freezing temperature as the world around them darkened by several shades, dense clouds of grey mist rolling in. Forget the potential servants – it appeared he had decided to make a personal appearance.

  Levi tensed up, but didn’t stop. His jaw tightened as he stared at the figure, refusing to back down.

  Your move, Death.

  The figure tilted its head. Its scythe gleamed menacingly–

  And under the moonlight shone the unmistakable glint of a skeletal smile.

  Levi blinked, stunned.

  Then, the figure turned and disappeared. The colors seeped back into the world and the flow of time returned to normal. Nobody else present seemed to have noticed the sudden interloper. Only Levi had.

  Slowly, an odd little smile spread across his face.

  It seemed that just this once, a certain someone had decided to turn a blind eye. Levi didn’t know why, but he was grateful all the same.

  With one last pulse, Levi finally cut off the magick, breathing heavily as he stepped back. For several seconds, nothing happened.

  Then, the body finally caught up to the soul, and she began transforming before their eyes. Deformed flesh melted away into pale unblemished skin, withered hair bloomed into flowing golden blonde locks, misshapen limbs lengthened into a healthy body. Liliya drew in a sharp breath, and Qorbin swore softly.

  Hawke stared with wide, disbelieving eyes as his daughter returned to him, looking as if she hadn’t aged a day since he last saw her. Her eyes were closed as her hair fluttered in an invisible wind.

  “This isn’t permanent,” Levi said, breathing heavily. “I managed to stabilize her soul, but only temporarily. She has only a few minutes left at most.” He snapped his fingers, and the enchanted ropes binding Hawke fell to the ground. “I suggest you make the most of them.”

  Hawke turned his gaze to him. “Are you…”

  “Well, go on,” Levi said. “What are you waiting for?”

  Hawke didn’t need to be told twice.

  “Emma!”

  He lunged forward, a desperate jerkiness to his movements as he rushed over to her, seemingly ignorant of his injuries. Qorbin stepped aside, still on guard in case Hawke tried to make a break for it, but he didn’t need to worry. Hawke stopped in front of his daughter, reaching out with one hand but then hesitated, as if he was afraid to touch her.

  Slowly, Emma opened her eyes, revealing dark brown eyes the same color as Hawke’s own. She blinked, disoriented, before focusing on Hawke.

  “... Papa?”

  “Emma?” Hawke said. “Emma, it’s me.”

  For a second, Emma just stared at him, not saying anything. Levi frowned; had his magick not been enough to restore her sanity?

  Then she smiled, a pure, genuine smile full of joy and childish vindication.

  “I knew that you’d come save me!”

  Hawke broke. He hugged her tightly, his form trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

  “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone onto that mission, I shouldn’t have left the town – it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault.”

  “They said you wouldn’t come,” Emma said. “But they were wrong. I knew they were wrong.”

  Hawke didn’t respond. He seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

  “I was strong and brave, just like you told me to be,” Emma continued. “I didn’t cry a siiiingle time.”

  Hawke let out a sound that Levi didn’t quite know how to describe. A noise of pure sorrow.

  “Well, okay,” she said hurriedly. “Maybe I did cry a little bit. But only a little–! Eek!”

  She cut off as Hawke tightened his embrace around her, though not so tight that it hurt. “You… You did well. I’m proud of you, Emma.”

  He drew back, kneeling in front of her so that he was on her eye level. He examined her with a desperate intensity, drinking in the image of her as though he was a man dying of thirst.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are you still staying up late at night? Did you remember to eat three meals a day?” She narrowed her eyes. “Just because I was gone doesn’t mean you’re allowed to slack off, you know.”

  “I…”

  She pouted. “Papa!”

  Hawke chuckled. “Sorry, sorry. I – I’ll try to improve.”

  “You better!” she admonished, her eyes narrowed. Then she tilted her head, as if listening to some invisible sound. Her face softened. “Oh. I think I have to go now.”

  “What? No, wait–!” Hawke’s voice broke, dropping to a whisper. “I don’t want you to die again.”

  “Aww, don’t be such a worrywart, it’s not so bad,” Emma giggled. She beamed. “Death is kind, after all!” Hawke and Levi both froze in unison, though for very different reasons. “He’s super nice and he says funny things.”

  “Ah,” Hawke said. “Is that so? I… I’m glad.” Then he hesitated. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go to where you and mama are, though.”

  Slowly, Emma reached out and touched his face with a gentle hand. And she smiled.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll come find you anyway.”

  Hawke’s eyes widened, at a loss for words.

  “Love you, papa.”

  “I – I love you too.”

  Then she turned to Levi. “You’re the one who brought me back, weren’t you?”

  Levi nodded. “I am.”

  She beamed at him. “Thank you, mister!”

  Then the light left her eyes before her form shimmered and she dissolved into shards of light. They flickered in the air for a moment before dispersing into the night sky.

  For a long time, Hawke stared at where she’d previously stood.

  Then, he spoke.

  “Thank you, Levi Ironwood.”

  “Just for the record, I didn’t do it for you,” Levi said mildly. “You killed thousands of people including children just like her. As far as I’m concerned, you deserve to rot in hell for your actions. I did it for her.”

  And, though he’d never admit it out loud, he’d done it for himself as well. A selfish act for a selfless dream.

  With luck, it would balance out.

  “I know,” Hawke said quietly. “But thank you anyway.” He was silent for a moment. Then: “A few months ago, I was approached by a man who called himself Phantasm.”

  Levi, Qorbin, and Liliya all tensed up.

  “He told me of how to make a contract with the Hollow and enact the summoning ritual,” Hawke continued. “I believe he wanted me to summon a daemon into this world to exact revenge on the adventuring population. And to be honest, at first that had been my plan. However…”

  He sighed. “A thought entered my head one day – what if I could alter the summoning ritual to summon my own daughter back from the dead? It was pure hubris, of course, but I was desperate enough to try anyway. The moment she came back, I instantly knew I’d made a terrible, horrible mistake. I should’ve killed her and released her from her suffering.” He stared down at his trembling hands. “I should’ve. But… I couldn’t. Even though her existence was clearly an aberration upon this world, I couldn’t bring myself to end her life, however corrupted it was. What kind of father am I?”

  None of them spoke for a moment. Then, Liliya stepped forward. “Even if her resurrected form was a twisted abomination of what she once was… she was still your daughter, wasn’t she?” she said softly. “It’s only right for a parent to love their child no matter what form they take. It’s how it ought to be, I believe.”

  Hawke blinked.

  Then, he smiled a small, sad smile.

  “Perhaps you’re right. Goddess, how I wish I could’ve seen her grow up…” He was silent for a long moment. Then, a look of resignation passed over his face. “So, what now?”

  “Is there anything else you can tell us about Phantasm?” Qorbin asked bluntly. “His abilities, his identity, anything at all.”

  Hawke shook his head. “He had some concealing magic that prevented me from discerning too much. The only thing I know about him is that he seems to hate modern adventurers even more than I do.” His eyes flashed. “And I hate them a lot.” Then he paused, his gaze moving over to look at Levi and Liliya. “Then again, perhaps I was wrong about that as well. The new generation doesn’t seem so bad. Mentor them well, will you, Mythmaker Ravenbane?”

  “I will,” Qorbin said. He raised his blade. “Any last words?”

  Hawke smiled ruefully. “Do I deserve any?”

  “Not really. But since we’re already here, might as well anyway.”

  “Fair enough. In which case… At the center of Elysia is a memorial stone listing all the people who died during the attack ten years ago. I know this might be an unreasonable, selfish, even reprehensible request, but… would you mind carving in my name next to my daughter’s?” His eyes flashed with a mixture of pain and guilt. “You see, Mythmaker Hawke died that day as well. His body just hadn’t caught on until now.”

  Qorbin regarded him for a long moment. Then, he nodded. “Consider it done.”

  Hawke nodded. “And one last thing…” He smiled. “Do check the basement of the cottage, will you?”

  Qorbin frowned but nodded again. “Will do. Is that it?”

  “It is.”

  With that, Hawke closed his eyes. A moment later, his head fell to the ground, his body toppling over as well a moment afterward.

  It was over.