Never Die Twice

The last Convergence was due tomorrow, and Asclepius had returned in defeat.

In response, Tye gathered his elites, both undead and living in Nastrond’s cathedral in order to make plans. Hagen, Asclepius, even Mockingbird—who was wise enough to understand what was at stake—stood next to Lady Yseult and Annie around a large table, covered in maps of the Lyonesse region.

“Since the lich is back and Medraut’s armies didn’t disperse,” Hagen said, pointing a finger at Asclepius, “we must assume that he isn’t going to back down.”

“He refused to listen to reason.” Asclepius shook his head. “He has no desire to see anyone survive the current cycle.”

As Tye had feared, his old friend would not stop until he had consumed all worlds in the eternal flames. “How many forces does he have?”

“According to my spies in their camp and recon work with your vampire rats,” Mockingbird said. “Four to five hundred thousand.”

The Calamities’ war machine had Nastrond’s defenders outnumbered more than five to one; and they had undead knights and mythical heroes on their side. Lady Yseult, who was familiar with the legends, had managed to provide the defenders with a theoretical class sheet for each of the Fianna. All of them were at least level seventy, each possessing powerful class combinations.

“Fionn, leader of the Fianna, was capable of using both pyromancy and weapons.” Lady Yseult provided everyone with paper sheets with drawings of warriors in ancient armor. “His leadership Classes made any army he commanded deadlier. Diarmuid, the most powerful warrior of his time, used multiple weapons in combat, including spears and swords.”

“Medraut will probably keep these two close and command from the rear, where it is safer,” Hagen noted. “Oscar and Cael are both warriors with flying mounts, and so will probably lead the air force.”

“Lughaid Stronghand is the only true spellcaster among them, and the most powerful [Druid] to have ever lived,” Lady Yseult said. “He was known for transforming the entire battlefield to the advantage of his troops.”

“Caílte, exceptional bard and master of beasts, commands Fenrir’s wolf children,” Mockingbird continued. “Cumhall, a powerful berserker, fights at the vanguard with the horseman Goll. Only Conán the rogue and Oisín the priest are unknowns, and may be deployed anywhere.”

“Our primary goal is to destroy Medraut and his ten commanders,” Hagen explained. “The rest of his troops, while numerous, rarely reach above level thirty, although some war beasts have been observed at level fifty.”

“These are the forces he currently has,” Tye pointed out. “Once the Convergence starts, fire giants will move to reinforce them.” Maybe even Calamity Surtr himself.

“Any sign of Royal Knights like Lancelot?” Lady Yseult asked. “We know Medraut assassinated and impersonated him.”

“Loki’s impersonation spell destroys the victim’s body as part of the ritual, the flesh grafted onto the murderer,” Asclepius explained. “I doubt he could raise the original.”

“There are undead royal knights among the troops, but none in a command position,” Mockingbird said. “Nor did they seem sentient.”

“It makes sense,” Tye said, joining his hands. “Unlike the Fianna, Medraut didn’t have much time to raise them. Maybe he worries they could escape his control if improperly bound; safer to use them as disposable, mindless shock troops.”

“There’s something else,” the criminal mastermind said. “According to my information, the Death Knight also tamed a level sixty dragon.”

“Is it confirmed?” Hagen asked, the rogue shrugging off; she only had rumors and hearsays, and nothing certain. “We have to assume it is.”

“What about Gwen?” Annie asked, the princess having skipped town soon after her talk with the necromancer.

“We know she made contact with the Avalon army’s remnants,” Mockingbird replied. “According to my information, she is moving to reinforce us; but I’m not sure if she will get here in time.”

“We have to assume she will not make a difference and act accordingly,” Tye decided, although he privately hoped the princess made her way to the city in time. He had a surprise for her. “How are our defenses?”

Hagen detailed the defensive strategy, the position of each troop, where the adamantine golems had been deployed, where he had placed traps and long-range defenses… everything had been optimized to slow down the enemy’s advance and prevent them from reaching Nastrond.

“We do have an advantage they do not expect.” Hagen waved a hand at Annie. “The girl’s teleportation system.”

Annie smiled, a bit embarrassed by the attention. She shouldn’t have been.

What seemed to have been a lifetime ago, when he still held his shop, Tye and Annie had discussed her idea for a permanent teleportation system; using a spell that bounced a target off the invisible barrier between the Nine Realms and rode the backlash to the target destination.

It would have taken years to create a workable system at the Academy if the project was even sanctioned. But in an environment with understanding allies—and plenty of cannon fodder—Annie had managed to create a workable prototype.”

“I didn’t do much,” Annie replied with great modesty, glancing at Asclepius. “Master Asclepius did all the calculations.”

“Apprentice Annie laid the foundations,” the lich replied. “I only shared with her my own research, to help her fill the gaps.”

“Are you kidding?” the young witch protested. “I didn’t even take the percentage of errors during Convergences into account until you pointed it out!”

Master and apprentice. She was already one of them, and the way she bounced off ideas and discussions with the lich made Tye quietly proud in his choice of lieutenant.

“Congratulations, Annie,” the necromancer congratulated his apprentice, who smiled in response. “I told you, you could do it.”

“This is an amazing invention,” Asclepius agreed. “It makes me wonder how things would have turned out if our Citadel had such an emergency exit.”

The thought had crossed Tye’s mind. While he had placed teleporting relays inside the city to deploy troops, he had also developed an emergency exit to get a few people out of Lyonesse, just in case he had to resort to extreme measures. Lady Yseult and Annie, in particular, had explicit orders to escape through this hidden route should Nastrond fall.

Hagen… had more specific orders.

After the group exchanged final plans, Tye dismissed everyone. “Except you, Hagen,” the necromancer told the Dullahan. “There is something we must discuss.”

The others dispersed, leaving only the necromancer and his trusted knight in the room. “Is it done?” Tye asked in a low voice, once certain no one could hear.

“Yes,” Hagen replied. “It’s all set.”

“Did any of them notice?”

“No one except maybe the lich.” Who was already in on the plan anyway. “I used different teams for each part of the design, as you asked.”

“Good. I said that I would offer only death to those who opposed the Great Work,” Tye said, his heart having turned to iron. “I will deliver. When the sun sets tomorrow, either all our enemies shall be dead, or we will. No middle ground.”

The Dullahan put a hand on his waist. “What about Laufey?”

“I have a final, special task for her,” Tye said. “If all else fails and Medraut reaches this place.”

“You’re sure chief? She’s Loki’s spawn; even while bound she remains treacherous and deadly.”

“Exactly why I know that she will perform excellently.”

The Dullahan chuckled, then prepared to make his way outside.

“Hagen.” Tye stopped the knight, a question having gnawed at him for a while. “Why are you still here? I know you care nothing for this world, or mankind, or even the Great Work.”

“That’s true enough. I don’t want to die, but I don’t want everyone else to live either.”

“Then why have you followed me this far, if you don’t believe in my vision?”

“I have done many dirty deeds, first on behalf of nobles who used me as a scapegoat, then on my own,” Hagen said. “But never before had I met someone capable of earning my respect. Never before you, that is. I follow the man you are, simple as that; the kind who will do anything to make his dream come true. And I admit, being in the shadow of greatness is a fine way to live. If you wanted to burn the world, I would still hand you the match.”

Tye smiled, and for once it was genuine. “Thank you for your friendship, Hagen,” the necromancer told his most trusted lieutenant. “I promise you that no matter what… the two of us will live through this mess. To begin again.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Walter.”

Tye nodded at his best friend, leaving him to return to his post. The necromancer glanced at the root of Yggdrasil and the fouled waters, for which he had sacrificed so much to obtain. Tomorrow, it would all end, one way or another.

He picked up a mental presence, glancing over his shoulder. “Annie.”

“Hey, Tye,” she said, stepping into the cathedral while glancing at the murals. “So it’s finally here. Ragnarok.”

“Not if we win.”

“It’s strange,” the witch said, looking at her feet. “I trained years for this moment, and now it’s coming… I’m terrified. Even with your elixir, I’m… I’m afraid to die.”

Which was perfectly natural. They were up against death incarnate. “Annie, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said, without hesitation.

“Then take this.” He handed her a small, black box the size of a hand. Magical seals protected it, preventing anyone but a select few from peeking inside. “Keep it.”

“What is this?” she asked, observing the device with curiosity.

“The key to our victory, should everything else fail,” Tye said. “You are the only one I can trust with it. You must only open it if Nastrond falls, and only once you are out of the city through the teleporter. Not before. Not after. I can trust no one else.”

“Why me?” Annie asked, a bit suspicious. “I’m touched, yes, but…”

“There are others who could take it with them. Hagen, Lady Yseult… but they are too well-known. The enemy will target them, while you, Annie, you have a chance to escape unscathed.” Tye sighed sadly. “And now that you learned my knowledge, I want you to survive. You are my legacy, Annie.”

The witch seemed overwhelmed with emotion, nodding as she put the box under her arm. “Tye, can I… Can I ask you something? A favor?”

“Certainly, Annie. What is it?”

“Can I…” she breathed deep and long as if mustering all her courage. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

“You already do,” he pointed out, unsure why she felt anxious.

“Just us,” she replied quickly, her cheeks turning redder. “Just the two of us.”

“You want to play Boards & Conquest one last time before the world ends?”

“No. Tye, I… I’ve never…” By now, Annie’s face had turned crimson, and she put her hands behind her back as if to hide something. “And the world might end tomorrow...”

…

Oh.

Oh my, quite the embarrassing moment there.

“Annie, I may not look like it, but I am old enough to be your father,” Tye pointed out. “I died in my twenties, but that was thirty years ago. I am also your teacher, not your equal, which makes a possible relationship dubious. Certainly, Percy would be better suited.”

“If we live forever, then when I am one hundred twenty, you will be one hundred fifty.” When seen that way… “Tye, I… you’re so smart and brilliant and... even if you are a bit scary sometimes… it’s not unattractive either. I… I like you. Even after everything.”

He had dreaded that conversation for months. And now, in spite of all his preparations, Walter Tye didn’t know how to handle it responsibly.

“You do not like me, Annie. You only like the shadow on the wall, the image you had of me.”

The necromancer transformed back into his true form; without the cloak to hide most of it.

His body expanded into a nightmarish fusion of countless corpses and souls bound into a single vessel; a serpent with vestigial legs and humanoid arms, whose skin was made of silent faces. His skeletal snake skull oozed poison.

“Do you still desire me now, Annie?” he imparted these words into his apprentice mind, as she took a step back in shock at the suddenness. “This is the true me, the eternal undead below the human skin. The face I project died thirty years ago.”

Her reaction surprised him. She didn’t respond with shock, or disgust, or despair.

She chuckled.

“Tye, you’re no beauty contest material in human form either! You have red eyes and white hair!” She smiled thinly. “Tye, I… it never was about how you looked. I mean, you can shapeshift at will. I just… I just felt we had a connection, that’s all.”

She fidgeted in place, uncomfortable.

“I thought it… it would just be an extension of that.”

“Annie, how to say that…” the necromancer struggled to mince his words. “I admire your intellect too, and I appreciate your charming company, but first of all, I felt none of these… biological urges since I achieved undeath. It is my belief that immortality will help mankind outgrow them.”

She didn’t say a word, which made Tye very uneasy. He felt the urge to answer, so as not to hurt her feelings.

“You see, sexuality, in its rawest form, is simply the expression of a mortal lifeform’s fear of extinction; the desire to pass on one’s seed is a mere copout alternative to true immortality. While this may have been an effective survival strategy, the pleasure now distracts us from seeking a true alterna—”

“I get it, Tye,” she interrupted him.

“Your best friend and I will also continue fighting, in spite of your best efforts,” the necromantic deity continued. “If I kill Princess Gwenhyfar, will you forgive me?”

“Tye, she asked me to leave with her.”

The necromancer froze.

“She asked me to leave with her,” Annie said. “But I didn’t.”

“Why?” he asked, confused.

“I know you and her… I know it’s going to end terribly, but…” Annie let out a sigh. “You were always there to encourage me. You believed in me, mentored me, and… and you know so much. You can do so much.”

“You can say that after all the sacrifices I made?” he asked, puzzled. “The people I killed?”

“You’re an asshole,” Annie told him bluntly. “But… you know how I tested the teleportation relay?”

“Yes, I provided the mindless undead and carrion-eater fodder.”

“It… I thought it would bother me, you know, to use living corpses and animals as test subjects,” Annie said. “But it didn’t. When it worked, I… I actually felt happy. I proved my theory was right, that it could be done. That it can help everyone. The cost never truly entered my mind.”

“Your accomplishment is all that matters,” Tye reassured her.

“I won’t go as far as you did, but… far farther than Gwen, and closer to you,” Annie added. “I’ve made so many excuses, in spite of your behavior… that I think I was just lying to myself. If I cared as much as Gwen did, I would have left long ago. I don’t like what you’ve been doing but… I like you in spite of that. I still think you can do great good for the world.”

Tye fell silent for a moment, trying to process it. “I still do not understand,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to,” she replied. “I don’t ask what you think about this, but how you feel about me?”

How did he feel?

Confused.

Her feelings towards him made no sense, no more than Hel’s. Still, unlike the mad goddess, he genuinely enjoyed Annie’s company. She was bright, charming, and while naive, she had an iron core similar to his own. On every occasion he had done his best to protect her, even when it complicated his plans. He wouldn’t mind keeping her at his side for centuries to come.

Was that love?

He didn’t know. He didn’t even know if he could return her feelings with the same intensity.

Maybe he could learn to, though. He had all the time in the world to figure it out.

In the end, the necromancer shapeshifted back into human form, the young witch eying him in silence. “Not today, Annie,” Tye said, disappointing her, “But maybe in a few years. Once you have grown older and wiser, until you are no longer my apprentice, but my equal.”

“But we may not live long—”

“We will,” Tye interrupted her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “We will live through this, no matter what. I won’t let you die.”

Annie hesitated for a second, and then put her arms around his waist and they hugged, her head against his shoulder.

On the morning of the last battle, the Calamity Nidhogg sat on a throne of bones, located right in front of Nastrond. For now was not the time for men, but a time for beasts.

His forces were in place, the traps set, his final weapon in place. Nothing more could be done, and his fingers twitched with unease. His mind wandered off, scrying his entire realm at once.

Walter Tye would make his last stand, in the city he had fought so hard to conquer. No one would take it from him. No one.

Above, the sun had risen, only to be overrun by darkness. The celestial object had turned black, as the moon moved to obscure it; turning it into a ring of fire. The stars had all died in the skies, leaving only pitch-black darkness. There was no cloud, no wind, no rain. The world itself seemed to draw its breath.

And then it began.

Fiery lines spread across the heavens and the earth, rifts spewing flames and ashes. The giants of Muspelheim forced their hands and iron swords through, eager to set the universe on fire.

Answering this lethal signal, Medraut’s armies began to march, thousands of souls crossing into Tye’s territory at once; undead and men walked on the ground, while monsters, dragon riders, and demons flew across the darkened skies. Their battle lines encircled Lyonesse, a circle converging towards the center.

The last Convergence had started, and the hordes of Hell had been unleashed.

Even Tye received a notification, spelling out the stakes.

Yggdrasil Quest: Vígríðr, Field of Ragnarok

Prevent [Medraut, Herald of the End Times] from destroying the root and starting Ragnarok.

Bonus objective: Prevent [Calamity Surtr] from crossing into Midgard.

Bonus objective: Personally slay [Medraut, Herald of the End Times].

Bonus objective: Defeat all the enemy commanders.

No doubt had Medraut received a similar quest. In the end, the World-Tree took no sides; its System no more sentient than a plant. Just as it empowered undead and gods alike, whether the cycle continued mattered little to it.

The die was cast.

“Medraut, Hel… I will slay you all, again, and again, and again!” Tye snarled, raising his scepter and calling upon the ancient powers of Nastrond. “As many times as it takes!”

Stars fell from the heavens, and so began the twilight of the gods.