Vita - Chapter Six - Undeath

 2E 445

The sun was low in the sky, stretching Lia’s shadow out along the floor of the temple gardens. She stood in front of the massive bonfire that rose high above her reanimated body. It had been constructed by her hoard of undead thralls while she underwent the transformation from human to lich. This bonfire was a sacrificial pyre, with the hearts of all that had been slaughtered by Lia’s undead thralls scattered throughout. Around one to two-hundred souls were usually housed within the temple, between the healers, monks, nuns, the sick and injured as well as their families. Even on the low end, this would be a worthy offering to the Deity of the dead.
Lia attempted to smile to herself but found that she lacked any lips. That was a strange sensation. She would have to get used to this new body. The corpse of her brother was still following her, ever loyal to his little sister in his undeath.
“Anton, bring me a torch.” The command was silent, more of a thought, although Lia found herself instinctively trying to form the words with lips and a tongue she no longer had. Another example of her struggling with the changes to her physical self. It didn’t really matter; in time she would figure out a means of vocalising herself. After all, she now had the rest of time itself as she didn’t have to worry about dying. It wasn’t as though the lack of any sound bothered Anton’s corpse as he was able to understand her commands due to the magic that bound him to her.
The zombie shuffled off, into the temple to retrieve her torch. Lia was left alone with the rest of her undead servants in the dying light of the evening. Although it was impossible to tell due to the lack of any skin, Lia was very much smiling to herself. She had finally achieved her immortality. Death was no longer a mystery to be feared, now it was little more than a new beginning. She had granted herself what Vita promised without evidence. Before long Anton’s corpse returned with the requested torch. Lia handed the two hearts she had carried from the morgue over to her brother’s zombie.
“Hold these for me.” The words once again came out silent despite Lia’s natural attempt to say them out loud. This irked her enough that she snatched the torch from Anton as he took both the hearts from her. He was literally holding his heart in his hands. This thought amused Lia enough that her momentary aggravation faded away. She turned to face the bonfire and threw the torch onto the kindling at the bottom of the pyre. The fire started to spread quickly, igniting the larger pieces of wood that had once been the furniture within the temple.
In no time at all the bonfire was ablaze, easily consuming the many hearts that rested throughout. As the flames grew brighter, they caused the shadows of the many loitering zombies to extend in every direction away from the fire. As the flames consumed the furniture and sacrificial hearts, they caused the many elongated shadows to dance. The bonfire burned so bright that Lia almost didn’t notice how dark her surroundings had gotten as the sun vanished below the horizon.
It was time.
“Trux, Deity of the dead, I request an audience with you. I offer these hearts, that once beat within the chests of those devoted to Vita, Goddess of life, to you in exchange for my immortal existence upon this physical plane.” At first nothing happened, but then Lia felt a presence emerge behind her. She turned only to find nothing besides her shadow that stretched all the way to the temple walls. As the flames jumped around her shadow danced against the stonework.
Had she imagined the presence?
“Trux, I demand my audience!” It was then that she noticed that her shadow wasn’t behaving in the same way as those of the zombies around the fire. Her shade was darker and swayed back and forth out of time with the movements of the fire. It was moving of its own accord. As she noticed it, the thing that occupied her shadow pulled down its hood. She was able to make out the silhouette of her own skull. Trux had obviously possessed her shadow to use as their form in this physical realm.
“Trux, it’s a pleasure to finally meet in person.” The shadow bowed to her. That felt good, a God bowing to her. She then turned and pulled the hearts free from her zombie brother’s hands and returned to her meeting with the shadow.
“I offer you my heart as payment, so that I may watch my brother’s soul pass from this physical realm, to whatever comes after.” She held up her own heart, offering it to the shadow of Death. Lia then held up Anton’s heart. “I have bound my brother’s soul to his heart so that I may witness his journey from this life to the next. I feel I’m owed the chance to say goodbye to his mortal soul.” The shadow reached out one of its arms and pointed towards the flames behind Lia. The command was apparent. She turned around and one after the other threw the hearts onto the roaring flames of the bonfire. The shadow was waiting for her when she returned to face it. The shade held its hands together for a moment and when it pulled them apart a portal formed between them.
Lia gazed into the portal.

One moment Anton was screaming in agony as his deranged sister cut his heart from his chest, then he was trapped, unable to sense anything around him, held within a prison of darkness. Just as soon as he found himself held within this nowhere prison, he found himself waking up on the floor of a jungle. At least he thought this was a jungle, the truth was that he had never seen a real jungle in his life, but this seemed to fit the descriptions he had read in books. There were so many trees that their canopy hid the sky from view, while hundreds of vines tied each of the tree trunks together. Strange animals climbed along this network of vines. As he got to his feet, Anton was able to see that the floor of this forest was just as full of life as the area above him. Moss, bushes, and various flowers that were completely foreign to him bristled with life everywhere he looked. It must have been raining recently as all the flora around him was dripping with water. The sounds of birds singing rang out all around him.
He had no idea how he had gotten here, but it was beautiful.
“I’m glad that you like it, Anton.” The voice was just as magnificent as the land around him. He turned to face the source of the voice. There was a woman, she wasn’t human, but she wasn’t like any of the species of Honosreach that he was aware of either. She had the size and rough form of a human, with the beauty and ears of an elf, the wings of a giant moth, while her skin was made from the same bark as the trees around her. The more Anton looked at her, the more he noticed. Her hands had six digits instead of the more standard five like his own. It was as if she was comprised of every sentient species that made up the rich world of Honosreach.
“My lady, is it you I have to thank for saving me from my sister?” Anton was unsure who this woman was, or what her station was, so he fell back on formalities as much as possible.
“Please, you may speak plainly around me. As for your sister, I fear I owe you an apology, as I was unable to save you from your fate.” Her words sounded marvellous at first, but as their meaning sunk in, the more they lost their lustre.
“Unable to save me? Then, you mean, I’m…” Anton let the word go unspoken.
“Dead. Yes, I’m afraid I do.” Anton stumbled to his knees, the reality of his situation hitting him hard. Then he looked up at the strange woman and the realisation of who she was dawned on him.
“Vita?” She giggled at the sound of her name.
“Yes, it’s true, I am Vita and you’re my child, as are all that live within the mortal realm. I have watched your life; it’s been one filled with devotion for me; for which I’m beyond honoured. I only hope that you’ve enjoyed the gift of life I was able to grant you.” Her smile lifted his spirits, but he couldn’t help reflecting on his seventy-two years of life and wishing that he had done more with them. He could have travelled the world, or married a beautiful woman and raised a family, or really anything.
“Did I waste my life?” Vita smiled back at him and held a hand to his cheek, her bark felt warm.
“Bless you, sweet child. You spent your life healing others in my name. Because of your actions there are families that would never have been without you, adventurer’s able to continue their stories, and knights helping the other Gods and Goddesses. That doesn’t sound like a wasted life to me. I’m so very proud of you.” Anton felt a little better.
“Thank you.” It wasn’t enough but it was all he could think to say as he smiled back at her. Suddenly something caught Vita’s attention, her smile faltered for a second, before she looked at him with sad eyes.
“I’m afraid our time together is at an end, he has called for your soul and it’s his by divine right.”
“He?”
“Tywyll.”

Lia watched on, through the open portal, as her brother’s soul was plucked by Tywyll from Vita’s realm and dragged into his own. It was hard to really make out what she was seeing as all around her brother’s soul was nothing, just a void. This was a nothing so empty, that it didn’t even contain darkness, it wasn’t black, it was just a hole, a void in reality that held her brother’s soul. No, that wasn’t completely true, there was a presence in the void. It wasn’t a form that took up space, it was more like the sense of pressure where something should have been, a nothing within the nothing in the form of a man. This presence turned eyes that didn’t exist onto Anton. Lia could feel the fear that radiated from not just Anton but Trux too. Then Anton’s soul was torn apart, stretched into infinity, pulled in every direction at once until there was nothing left.
No more thought, no more consciousness, no more soul, no more Anton.
Trux closed their hands and the portal into Tywyll’s realm vanished.
All that awaited those that died was oblivion. A fate she had now escaped.
As Lia lifted her eyes, she found Anton’s undead eyes looking towards her. Even through she now had no heart, she couldn’t help but feel a weight within her chest.
“Goodbye Anton.” As she spoke the silent words, the corpse of her brother understood their meaning and climbed up onto the pyre.
Both Lia and Anton had died during this night.

Where Lia died, Thanistra rose into undeath.

Vita - Chapter Five - Death

 2E 445

Lia sat naked within the morgue, on the stone workbench with a freshly cleaned and sharpened knife, a piece of parchment, and two rubies previously engraved with the runes necessary for later. Her robes were folded neatly and out of the way on the nearby shelves next to her brother’s heart. Anton’s body had been reanimated and now stood ready for any commands she may have for him. The empty hole in his chest was a gory reminder of the recent massacre. Her old pallid skin wasn’t far from the bloodless dead skin that Anton’s reanimated corpse wore. The runes carved into her arms that allowed her control over her undead army continued to fester and weep. They would continue this disgusting display for as long as they were active. Lia didn’t much mind, she had grown used to it.
The unclothed necromancer looked at the runes written on the parchment in front of her. She had to study these carefully as even the smallest alteration would mean that the process would fail. She swallowed away the fear and pushed the knife into the skin covering her cheek. The blade sunk deeper and deeper until she felt it reach bone. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain, but she blinked them away. She sliced the blade through her skin, starting just above her mouth all the way along to the edge of her earlobe. Deep red blood oozed from the wound. The pain was so much worse than she had expected but there was no going back now.
She cut into her cheek again, this time higher, starting just below her left eye. The salt from her watering eyes ran down her face into the open wound and caused even more stinging. She let out a hoarse scream to try and relieve some of the pain, but it persisted anyway. As the knife returned to her cheek, she pulled it downwards, connecting the two horizontal cuts. The blood that ran from the wound was thicker than she had expected it to be. A rich dark crimson that offered a visualisation to the pain that screamed at her from inside her own head. She pushed past it and returned the blade to her flesh, preforming a second vertical cut connecting the other side of the two horizontal ones. Her eyes were watering beyond control as the pain persisted. Blood dripped onto the stone surface of the workbench below her. She moved the parchment, careful to avoid it becoming obscured by her own blood. Then she slid the blade underneath the section of skin she had cut around and lifted it free. The pain from this exceeded any that came before it and she allowed herself another scream of agony as she pulled the slab of skin free from her face.
As the skin hit the stone workbench with an uncomfortably wet thud Lia allowed herself the chance to openly sob through the pain. The first part of the process was complete.
“Get me a clean cloth from the infirmary!” She screamed at the corpse that had once been her brother. It shambled out of the room, leaving her alone with nothing but the pain and blood. She tried to focus on the runes written out on the parchment, but the pain made it almost impossible to think about anything other than the pain itself. Another scream escaped as the corpse of her brother returned with the cloth. She snatched the material out of the corpse’s hand and began to clean the wound.
“Get me a hand mirror, make sure it’s not broken!” The corpse once again left the room. Lia wiped away as much blood as she could while she waited for the zombie to return. When it did, she took the mirror and inspected the injury. Three strips of exposed muscle were visible through the area of missing skin. As she moved her mouth and nose the muscles went from taut to lax. Seeing them exposed like this was a strange, and not at all comfortable experience. What was to come would be a lot worse. She picked up the knife and began to cut the muscles closest to her nose. The agony returned as the knife tore away at the fibres of the muscle. It didn’t take long for her to have cut through the first set. Before she had a chance to think better of it, she started on the second collection of fibres. The lefthand side of her mouth began to slump downward as the muscles responsible for holding it up were disconnected. Fresh blood pumped itself free from the muscle tissue. Lia took the knife to the final bundle of fibres and cut at them with less precision than the last ones as the pain began to interrupt her careful slices. Eventually the muscles holding the left side of her mouth upward were all cut loose. She screamed once again, but the sound was muffled as the lefthand side of her mouth was unable to open.
She began to loudly cry as she looked at her ruined visage in the mirror. Her face was mutilated beyond repair. Still, it would all be worth it in the end.
“Get me pain relief, quickly!” The undead corpse of her brother vanished, leaving her and her ruined face alone. She took the time to look at the runes on the parchment, this time forcing herself to focus on the lines through the agony. Each line needed to be reproduced perfectly, the smallest alteration would deny her the immortality she craved. Time began to blur as her grip on reality slipped with the intensity of the pain. She had no idea if Anton’s corpse had taken ten minutes or ten hours to return with the requested drugs. Still, eventually he returned with a syringe full of a murky green liquid. She took it from him and looked towards her arm before lining up the needle of the syringe with a vein, but the double vision made it almost impossible. When she had done her best, she pushed the needle into her arm and depressed the plunger. Almost immediately a sensation of giddy weightlessness overcame her as the overwhelming pain started to feel like it was happening to someone else. She felt almost detached from her own body.
“That’s good shit Anton!” She joked to the corpse of her brother, the words sounded slurred as her mouth refused to open on the lefthand side. This caused her to giggle at the sound of her own voice. She quickly looked down at the mirror, knife, and runes printed onto the parchment. This was the final stage of the process she would ever carry out while alive. If it went wrong, she would not be able to finish.
Lia picked up the knife, giggling at how light it felt in her hand. She then picked up the mirror and held it up to the destroyed remains of her face. As the knife contacted her skull a painful sting erupted across her entire face. It was so painful that it tore through the effects of the drugs and overwhelmed all her senses. The intense sensation ran through every nerve within her head, overwhelming her hearing, sight, and even taste. Eventually it faded. Lia looked at the runes, focused on what she decided was going to be the first line and returned the knife to her skull. As the metal blade scraped itself across her exposed bone, carving the line into her skull, that loud, painful sting exploded across her entire nervous system. This was only the first of hundreds of lines, each one had to be perfect, and each one would hurt just as much as this first one. Over the next few hours Lia carefully copied the runes, line for line, into her skull. She barely felt human by the time she came to the end of the process. Lia focused on the last line, her mind had collapsed into pain induced insanity, all that she knew was that she had to finish carving these runes; so she made the final act of self-violence and carved it into her skull.
Lia’s heart stopped beating.
She gasped for air but found that no matter how much she tried to breath it wasn’t enough. Her lungs had shut down, so they were unable to draw oxygen from the air. Lia instinctively gripped uselessly as her throat. Her hearing started to fade as darkness closed in around her. All her organs started to fail as they used up their finite supply of blood. It didn’t take long for her body to collapse to the stone workbench. As darkness overtook her the last thing she remembered before she lost all awareness was reaching towards the reanimated corpse of her brother for help.
Then everything vanished.
Lia’s brain stopped functioning, and with it so did her panicked dying thoughts.
She had died.
Her soul tried to escape her mortal body, only to find itself bound to her skeleton.
Consciousness slowly returned to her. Although she found that she wasn’t looking out of her eyes. She was instead looking at her corpse from the perspective of the engraved rubies sitting on the workbench.
“Pick up those rubies and face them towards me.” Her voice was quiet as both her tongue and lungs were now dead. Still the command was magically understood by her thrall who did as it was told. Part of the runes now etched into her skull allowed her to maintain control of her thralls as a lich.
As the zombie held the rubies towards her, she was able to see herself from a third-person perspective. It was a strange sensation. Still all the pain, effects from the drugs, and the madness had vanished since she was no longer connected to her brain or nervous system which was a massive advantage. She used the knife to remove her old eyes and replaced them with the rubies. To finish the process, she proceeded to hack away at the remains of her flesh, extricating her skeleton from the confines of her now dead body. This was much easier than everything that had come before it as she no longer felt any pain. Her soul was bound, for the rest of time, to her bones.
Death was no longer a threat.
After she had ripped the skin and muscles away and had torn out her now useless organs, she got redonned her robes.
Lia had died, but she had been reborn into undeath as a lich.
As she pulled her hood up and over her exposed skull, she felt set free for the first time; free from the overshadowing, overwhelming, all-consuming fear of death.
It was time to contact Trux, she had one more question to ask, for the sake of her dear brother.

Vita - Chapter Four - Elderly

 2E 398-445

Lia found a home within the hidden Trux sanctuary. Her questions about what happened to the souls of the dead after they left the physical world drove her into years of obsessive study.
Was there an afterlife awaiting those who died, or was it simply oblivion?
As she trained and studied within the sanctuary, she slowly became a novice practitioner of magical runes. Despite the range of skills open to her once she learned to read and construct arcane runes, she never strayed far from the realm of the dead. The graveyard above the sanctuary provided suitable test subjects for Lia’s morbid magical experiments. After years of practice, she was able to reanimate the bodies of the dead. The rotting remains of the townsfolk became her undead thralls. While she had found a sort of immortality, it was only the body that persisted in this undead state, the soul, the consciousness was still lost.
Lia’s skills with understanding and creating magical runes continued to improve over the years. Once she had mastered reanimating the remains of the dead she moved on to other necromantic arts. All of it was in search of a means of immortality for herself. In totality Lia spent forty-seven-years living and learning within the Trux sanctuary. By the time she was ready to leave the haven and apply all she had learned she was far from the filthy frail woman freezing in the autumn cold. Lia had become a powerful mage and necromancer. One with the means of achieving her eternal existence. All she needed was the means of paying the price that this immortality would cost.
It was time to return to Vita’s holy temple.

2E 445

Vita’s temple hadn’t changed much within the forty-nine-years that Lia had been away. The vast gardens outside of the massive building were still teaming with life. Various insects sang to each other while the sounds of hidden nocturnal predators stalking their prey filled the cold night air. The temple, more of a medical centre than most traditional places of worship, blended in with the overgrown nature of the gardens. The walls were covered in ropey vines that had been allowed to grow wild and free where they pleased since cutting them would have been against the teachings of Vita.
Lia’s memories of her happy life within this temple had long since faded with age. The only thing that persisted was a vague sense of safety by her mother’s side. Vita taught these fools that life was a gift, but Lia knew better; life was an unfair, random, and chaotic mess. It was time that she proved this reality to those that lived within Vita’s temple.
Once the townsfolk of the nearby Oakenheart woke up in the morning they would find their graveyards emptied of their deceased occupants. These corpses now marched in an unorganized hoard behind Lia as she approached the temple in the dead of night.
The old woman that led this morbid parade had changed a lot from the bright-eyed little girl she had once been. Her skin had lost its once brown shade and had taken on a sickly pallid colour with dark shadows under her eyes. A greasy tangled mess of grey hair hung from her head, the rough, uneven, ends that hung at her jawline were evidence of a hasty self-cut with little care for appearances. In contrast to her messy face and hair, her robes looked almost regal. They were constructed from a soft black fabric that absorbed what little light there was reflected from the many moons that hung in the sky above her. This gave the fabric an almost unnaturally dark appearance. The opening of the robes hung diagonally, with a polished black metal edging along the seams of the robe. The trousers were very much of the same design while the undershirt was a simple linen thing. Her outfit was finished with steel-toe-capped boots made from a black leather.
Runes carved painfully into Lia’s arms began to necrotise and decay as the magic contained within them activated. The garden began to wilt away as she approached with her undead army. She couldn’t help but glance towards the large pond off to her right as she entered the grounds. The Lilypad’s started to darken and curl into themselves while the surface of the water erupted into chaos as the fish within the pond thrashed against the foul necromantic magic. This scared the slumbering ducks that emerged from their hidden nooks and crannies before attempting to fly away from the danger. A few made it far enough away to escape the influence of Lia’s dark magic, but most failed to get airborne or simply dropped from the sky shortly after leaving the ground. The young child that she had once been hoped that Dina’s children had been among those lucky enough to have escaped. As she continued to stare at the nostalgic body of water the fish lost their futile battle against her magic and floated lifelessly to the surface. By the time that Lia reached the entrance of the temple the garden was little more than a mess of brown sludge and decaying animal carcasses. The smell of rot hung sickly sweet in the air. This would be an unwelcome smell within one of Vita’s temples. That thought made Lia smile.
Four of her undead thralls bashed in the doors to the temple. Only a few scared healers were awake in the lobby. They were completely unprepared for such an attack. Their pained screams filled the temple, alerting everyone to the danger. Lia allowed her hoard to unleash itself upon her victims. Each healer, monk, nun, or family that fell to her undead mob would soon stand back up and join the army of the undead. Lia’s attack was a complete slaughter. Husbands and fathers would fall only to rise once more to begin feasting on the families they had died defending.
Lia made her way through the carnage towards the infirmary, towards the morgue, where she could be at home with only the spiders and corpses for company. Her undead army had been given free rein to massacre and feed on all but one person within the temple. She waited for her loyal soldiers to bring her target to her. Countless lives were lost while Lia sat and waited, playing with the now rusty autopsy knife. Eventually the heavy wooden door was pushed open as an undead reptilian woman pulled a struggling man into the room. Lia looked at the thrall, this one was fresh, the blood dripping from her broken jaw was still a healthy red colour. She wondered who this woman had once been. How had she ended up so far from her homeland. It didn’t matter anymore; her soul had left this physical realm. Perhaps it was now with Vita, but Lia doubted that very much.
“Stop!” Lia’s voice was almost impossible to make out over the symphony of death. Still, the thrall, able to always hear any command from its mistress, complied and dropped the terrified man to the ground. “Wait by the door, make sure no one else comes in or out.” The zombie complied, taking up position in front of the heavy wooden door.
“Lia?” The scared man barely recognised her after so many years. It was understandable, she barely recognised him. He had become an old man, with tired looking skin and a grey, almost white beard.
“Hello Anton.” Her voice sounded hoarse as she tried to speak over the sounds of butchery.
“Why are you doing this?” Anton’s voice sounded old and frail, but there was something under the surface; pain, and grief.
“I’m so close to defeating death, to leaving that fear of absolute oblivion behind, to becoming truly immortal. Nothing is free though, so I needed to arrange the payment.” Lia held up the autopsy knife. Anton’s eyes dilated in fear as he saw the familiar weapon.
“You don’t have to do this!”
“Unlike your Goddess, who shirks any and all that dare question her baseless claims of eternal life, offered with no proof, no evidence, Trux offers the truth. They offer more than just that, they offer evidence of the truth.”
“Please Lia, don’t do this! Stop this slaughter! Please!” Anton began to ceaselessly beg for the lives of those within the temple as well as himself. Eventually his pleas became a pathetic blubbering of nonsense. Lia continued her explanation heedless of her brother’s breakdown.
“All Trux asks in return is payment in the form of human hearts. I thought there was a certain poetry in giving the Deity of the dead the hearts of those devoted to the Goddess of life. My thralls can manage everyone out there.” Lia pointed the rusty end of her knife towards the heavy wooden door. “But you, Anton, I felt I owed you a more personal goodbye.” Lia looked down at the pathetic frail old man loudly sobbing to himself in fear. She looked at the thrall standing ready by the door. “Hold him still.” The corpse lifted Anton into a standing position as he thrashed against his captor. His struggles were useless. The corpse would allow her muscles, skin, and bones to rip and break before she released him. Lia used her knife to cut open her brother’s robes and undershirt so that she could get to his bare chest. As she plunged the autopsy knife into Anton’s chest and cut into his flesh the cacophony of screams and dying entered the room. Her brother’s screams were forty-nine-years in the making. His heart would make for a special offering.
By the time that the sun breached the horizon the temple of Vita had fallen silent.
The screams of the dying had given way to the silence of the dead.

Pokémon Adventures Vol.4 Review

Written by Hidenori Kusaka
Art by Mato
Published by VIZ Media, LLC, San Francisco, CA (2009)
ISBN: 978-1-4215-3057-4

The year is 1998, Pokémon fever has spread across Japan and is also beginning to infect the western world. Volumes one to three of the Pokémon Adventures manga have sold very well. The next game in the Pokémon series has just released, which is Pokémon Yellow, a remaster of the original games but reworked to include references to the anime. This presents a problem for the Pokémon Adventures manga. How are you supposed to adapt a story that you have already told in your last three volumes? Somehow writer Hidenori Kusaka managed to do just that, by expertly rearranging aspects of the world and story that were left out of the first three volumes of the manga. Then artist Mato expertly brings this amazing story to life with their beautiful, and often, striking artwork! Volume four continues the amazing quality from the last three volumes. Let’s dive into this manga and unpack what makes it so good!

Vita - Chapter Three - Adulthood

 2E 398

Oakenheart was a fair-sized town that benefited from the trade offered by those travelling between the capital city of Athelbury and the coastal city of Navelton. For most people Oakenheart was a welcoming town with well-lit streets and plenty of protection from either the Quilldrake soldiers or knights from any one of the nearby orders. The local townsfolk were accustomed to all sorts of the many species and races that called this world home. Oakenheart stood as a shining example of hospitality within the Quilldrake kingdom.
But every day has its night, every light casts its shadow, and even the friendliest of towns have a dangerous underground network of criminals and cultists. Oakenheart was no different. This truth was best known to those that society had left behind, abandoned to the harsh cold reality; the homeless, mentally ill, and outsiders to traditional family values. In her search for answers, Lia had found herself tangled up within the web of secret cultists that called this fair city home. Despite the murkiness of her new community’s morality, she found the freedom to question the motives and truthfulness of the Gods freeing. It was these very questions that had caught the attention of the Trux cultists. Lia felt that she was within reach of immortality, or at least the means of acquiring it. Everything in Honosreach had its price, and this was no different.
Which is what brought Lia to her current situation.
The Drunken Pony was one of many taverns within Oakenheart. Unlike all the other taverns though, this one contained a particular man, one Lia had deemed an acceptable target. He was an abuser of women, a selfish person who cared only for his own pleasure.
The many moons hung high in the sky, standing in silent judgment. Most of Oakenheart was smothered in a comfortable darkness. This part of town stood out due to how well lit it was, with plenty of streetlamps covering the surrounding buildings with a flickering orange light. Despite the warm glow the streets were still cold as an autumn chill blanketed the town.
Lia shivered as she pulled the few filthy blankets she had to keep herself warm closer to her cold skin. It did little to help. As she waited, she focused on her breathing, enjoying the sight of the cloud of warm air as she exhaled. Despite what the bitter cold implied, each fresh cloud that escaped her lungs was proof that she was still alive. Proof that these years of living hard and rough hadn’t yet killed her.
The sound of the tavern’s opening door knocking the nearby bell caused her eyes to dart towards the doorway. A man, struggling to stand under his own balance tumbled out of the warm tavern. The flickering light from the streetlamps coated his face in darkness. Lia was unable to guarantee that this was her target. Her frustration mounted as the drunken lout stumbled towards the streetcorner. He stopped directly under the streetlamp closest to herself. While she could feel his unwelcome stare, the light directly above him masked his face in even more darkness than before. Lia felt vulnerable in the cold openness of the street. As the drunken man continued to stare at her, he pulled a cigarette case free from his jacket pocket and removed one. When the cigarette was held in his lips, he pulled another free before returning the case to his pocket.
“Fancy a smoke lass?” His voice was familiar. Lia’s heart leapt at the possibility of this being her target, before icy cold fear then gripped her at the realization of what she had to do if he was. She felt for the autopsy knife tucked into her waistband. It was the same weapon she had threatened her brother with two years ago. Now though, it meant safety, and perhaps more.
“Sure thing mister.” She answered in as innocent a voice as she could muster as she got to her feet. The remains of the temple robes, undershirt, trousers and workers boots covered her frail body. Her precious blankets hung over her shoulders as she made her way towards the drunken man. Lia strained to make out his face but couldn’t in the darkness. He then pulled a matchbox free from his jacket pocket and lit one of the fire sticks. Lia focused on his face. He moved the tiny flame towards the cigarette in his mouth. As the tobacco inside the cigarette began to burn the match lit up his face enough to let Lia know that this was her target. She smiled to herself, but this was mistaken by the man as instead intended for him.
“You got a pretty smile, girlie.” He held out the unlit cigarette towards her.
“Thank you mister.” She took the smoke from him and placed it between her lips. “Can I have a light please?”
“Of course.” As he spoke, he leaned his face towards hers, as if he was coming in for a kiss. Lia prepared herself for any danger. He pressed his lit cigarette against her unlit one and took a drag, allowing the flame to spread from his smoke to hers. She inhaled the tobacco smoke as he moved away from her. “Ya’know, I could help you out with cash, if you wanted to have a little fun.” Lia removed the cigarette from her mouth and smiled as she let the smoke emerge from between her lips.
“Sure thing mister. But where would we go?” She punctuated the sentence with another drag from the cigarette. While she didn’t smoke very often, the tobacco helped calm her nervousness.
“Follow me.” He grabbed her wrist, tight, and pulled her towards one of the nearby alleyways. The shadow from the two buildings either side of them hid them from view. Although the various unattended supplies, and wooden crates from the nearby shops made it difficult to navigate. As the drunken man stumbled down the alleyway, Lia lost her blankets.
Eventually she found herself pressed up against the cold stone brickwork. The smell of old ale hit her before she felt the man’s lips pressed up against her own with his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She panicked and reached for the autopsy knife tucked into her waistband. As she gripped the wooden handle of her weapon, she felt the man’s hand trying to force itself into her trousers. As he slid his hand down there, he found it sliced open on the blade of Lia’s weapon. He screamed a profanity at the sudden pain and Lia attempted to cover his mouth with her left hand as she pulled the knife free with her right. The darkness made it nearly impossible to see what she was doing so she ended up only covering his chin with her hand. As he realised what was happening, he bit down onto her hand, drawing blood as he did so. She bit her own lip to avoid screaming herself, and readjusted her hand, finally covering his mouth. Her right hand plunged the knife into his flesh. Lia wasn’t sure what she had expected this moment to feel like, but it wasn’t anything like this. The knife hit something hard and jerked to the side; this awkward motion sprained her wrist. She bit down harder on her lip as the pain ran up her arm like a jolt of electricity. The man struggled to free himself from her grip. Thanks to his superior size he was able to push her to the side, but the knife came with her. Lia hit the floor hard; more pain erupted across her body. She got to her feet as quickly as possible and looked for her target. He was screaming something unintelligible as he struggled back down the alleyway. Lia moved after him. Catching him wasn’t difficult as he tripped on one of the empty crates littering the alley. Lia used her left hand to find the man’s scruffy hair, gripping it tight when she found it. She then stabbed the knife towards where she expected his neck and throat to be. It missed and hit his collar bone. This caused more pain to shoot up her arm as the knife once again jerked to the side. No time for this. She pulled the knife free again and aimed higher. This time it hit what felt like his throat. As if he was trying to confirm her hit, the man began to emit a wet gurgling sound as he tried to inhale. Lia pulled the knife free and plunged it back in. The cold autumn chill was replaced with a wet warmth as she repeatedly plunged the knife into the man’s throat. She continued this vicious assault until the gurgling sound ceased, and the man’s body went limp.
It was done.
Lia rolled over onto her back and allowed herself to exhale. She smiled as a cloud of warm air obscured her view of the judgemental moons above her. Then, as the realisation of what she had just done hit her, she started to sob to herself. She only stopped when she felt the warm puddle of blood begin to soak through her robes, snapping her back to the task at hand. After she wiped away the tears from her face, she rolled the man over onto his back and got to work on the next awful task of the night.

Oakenheart’s graveyard was located on the outskirts of town. It was a quiet and forgotten place, peacefully hidden in a vale of darkness. By the time that Lia reached this morbid venue of death, the moons were dipping below the horizon. The sun hadn’t yet crested the skyline, but the subtle increase in light heralded its presence. There wasn’t much time left before daybreak made the sordid business that Lia was dealing in dangerous.
At the centre of the graveyard stood a mausoleum. To most of the townsfolk, this mausoleum was no different from those around it. It was, however, the concealed entrance to the hideout of the Trux cultists. Lia nervously entered the graveyard; her robes were covered in the blood of her victim. She had used her blankets to cover most of the incriminating evidence, but she knew that wasn’t enough. Between what could still be seen of the blood, the still bleeding bite on her hand, and the gruesome object wrapped up in a messy blanket, it was obvious that she was guilty of some foul crime. She made her way, as quickly as she could, towards the central mausoleum. As she reached the door she fumbled for the key, she had been given by the cultist that had contacted her weeks prior. Lia nervously removed it from her pocket and unlocked the heavy stone door. It took what little remained of her strength to push the door open. A brazier burned bright on the tomb at the centre of the room, coating the dusty interior with a warm glow. Lia entered the morbid structure and pushed the door closed behind her. This place reminded her of her old perch within the temple’s morgue. Only the spiders and corpses for company.
Lia realised how safe she felt within this mausoleum. She was safely hidden away from the eyes of the public. The brazier offered her warmth, a feeling she had almost forgotten during her years sleeping on the streets. What remained of her guilt at her recent murder began to melt away in this macabre warmth. She quickly unwrapped the gory prize from the blanket. Before long Lia was holding the still wet heart of her recent victim in her hands. A grotesque payment for her means of immortality, but not one she was above paying.
She threw the organ into the flames of the brazier. At first the wet blood caused the flame to sputter and crackle, but after a few moments the heart began to burn as it fed the fire. As her gift was accepted by Trux, the Deity of the dead, the coffin slid back into the stone wall of the mausoleum revealing a flight of stairs that led down into the shadows.
A figure, almost completely obscured by the darkness waited at the bottom. As Lia made her way towards them, they spoke in a voice as shrill and frigid as the dead themselves.
“Welcome to the family, sister.”