True Death

Ra’azel was tense, the unnerving sensation filled him. He reached to the side, carving a rune, half worried that it wouldn’t work. It obeyed his command, and he sighed in relief.

Quickly he raised his forearm and carved a string of runes in his new flesh. It wouldn’t be as good, but he didn’t have any choice, the armor on this body was wrecked and he didn’t know how the formations would interfere. He carved the strings that connected him with his spatial storage and returned to him the access to his constructs.

Immediately he pulled out a dozen constructs, his supply was dwindling fast. His constructs scanned the surrounding and returned… nothing at all. They weren’t working properly.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something and whirled around, nearly stumbling as his body moved at a speed he was not used to—its attributes were far higher than what his own body had been capable of.

He narrowed his eyes, the eyes that saw more than he ever was able to see on his own before. And he saw nothing but darkness.

Something moved in the periphery and he whirled again, and once more he saw nothing.

“Show yourself!” He yelled, his hand raised and ready to carve out a rune. None of his opponents had demonstrated anything like this power.

He had to assume that it was either some kind of a trump card perk, or a domain—chosen were supposed to have those. He didn’t know it, had no counters for it, and therefore he feared it.

This was too much. He had already accomplished his goal. He had gained access to the Framework. Not in the way he had imagined, no, but he had it nonetheless. There was no need to remain here.

He raised his hand and started carving the rune strings that would break him out of here and teleport him somewhere far away. This place was making him feel strange.

A sound startled him, and his head turned. A large shadow moved among the trees. He froze as it stepped into the light.

A giant beast, a wolf, with smooth thin layer of black fur covering its body and a white mask on top of its head. Two red eyes glared at him from behind it.

Ra’azel froze, his hand shaking. His Soul was only just settled into the new body and still it reacted, influenced by what his Soul felt. His heart started beating faster, blood rushed through his body, his breath quickened and processes started. New Essence was born within his being, Fear.

“No,” he shook his head and took a step back. He knew it, as all Aspects, as all living things on his world had known it. The last thing anyone ever saw. An Aspect beyond all Aspects, the one that all feared meeting, but inevitably all stood before.

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“You can’t be here,” Ra’azel whispered.

“WE ARE HERE, ALWAYS. TO HUNT.”

It spoke and growled, its voice piercing into his head and making him tremble.

“This can’t be real,” Ra’azel said. “There are no Aspects like you here. Something is attacking my mind, a Fear based power?” He argued with himself. Because nothing else made sense.

It had to be something that was drawing his greatest fear out of him, showing it to him. Perhaps the previous occupant left something in this body, in the vessel?

The Reaper took a step closer, it bent its knees, ready to strike.

“YOU TOOK WHAT WAS OURS,” it growled.

Ra’azel blinked. “I took nothing from you.”

“IT WAS… IT WAS… YES, ANATALIEN, THAT WAS THE NAME,” it growled and Ra’azel’s confusion grew. “WE WILL END YOU FOR THE INSULT.”

He could feel the anger now, it rolled away from the being like a wave, impacting the environment. Making it shudder and darken.

This wasn’t what Ra’azel was thinking it was, this was… real. It knew Anatalien it—wait, Ra’azel remembered things he had overheard, things he had learned from the Unchained. This entire attack, what he saw just moments before he was brought to this place, the woman and her aura.

The Reaper shook its head, as if in pain. Its eyes looked wild, the world around them shook, the ground trembled.

Ra’azel took the opportunity to start his string again.

The Reaper’s head snapped to him, sensing what he was doing, and its eyes narrowed.

“WE REMEMBER YOU, RUNESMITH, BONDSMITH, ENSLAVER, WORLDSMITH. YOU ESCAPED OUR GAZE, YOU LIKE OTHERS DENIED US THE LAST HUNT.”

It knew him, of course it did, it knew all things that had an end. Again, it shook its head, and again the world trembled. Then, in a span of a blink, the Reaper was no longer alone.

A beautiful white form stood next to it, a hand on its neck, along with a dark skinned tall woman covered in tattoos. The Scythe held its bone weapon in delicate hands, and Ra’azel felt fear grip his heart.

“Calm,” the dark-skinned woman said in a melodic voice. “Remember yourself Ryun, don’t let your anger control you.”

The Scythe continued. “We are not who we used to be, long ago.”

Ryun? Ra’azel narrowed his eyes. This was not the True Death, or they were both the chosen and… So much that he didn’t know. So much that he had no answer for, this was why he didn’t fight against the unknown.

The Unchained had failed him, they were supposed to be his instruments, but other people disappointed him, always. He could rely only on himself it seemed.

As they whispered to one another, he raised his hand and slowly started carving his escape.

Who he once was, was lost in the memories. Only the Reaper’s voice, the weight of ages, remained clear. Anatalien was a word that had some meaning, he knew that the being in front of him had taken something, had done… The moment he saw him, remembered him, it no longer mattered.

The yeti had escaped the previous Reality, had escaped True Death. He could not leave alive.

The Reaper’s head was hurting, being split in half. Things were blaring in the corner of his vision, but he didn’t know what they were or how to make them go away. He remembered only the hunt.

And then, they were there, two voices slid into his mind and spoke within and without, reminding him of his life here and now.

Memories of a time spent together, a short time, but a time filled with connection. With emotion, a strange dynamic, three people who found one another. Each understanding a different part of the other, but together all the same.

The words woke the one whose anger had pushed him so deep into the memories.

Ryun was pulled back, slowly, out of the deepest reaches of memory, and the echo of his memories receded into the background.

“Thank you,” he said slowly. His anger still ran hot, but now he understood that this had to be him, not just blind anger.