Ocean waves reflecting a black, starless sky recalled for Maddin the texture of tribal weaponry, blades made of rough-hewn obsidian. Belladin led him away from town, down a muddy path to the shoreline. There, a dinghy awaited them. It’d been dragged out of the water, resting in the black sands of the beach.

  The fleet footed bard hurried toward their conveyance while Maddin paused, turning back for a last look at the island. A menacing volcano with glassy, black slopes rose above the world, extruding innumerable streams of green, naked bodies through vents that from here looked like viridian lava flows. So many souls. What would they do to this world?

  “Do you want to be captured?” Belladin snapped.

  Maddin turned back, watched the bard struggling to push the boat toward the sea. He joined him at the transom, making short work of the task. The dinghy drifted into the water and the two men leapt inside. Belladin fell against the bulkhead while Maddin took hold of the oars and began to row.

  “Where to, bard?”

  Belladin waved his hand about while catching his breath. “Just…give us a minute, will you?”

  Maddin scoffed, lifting the paddles from the water. Droplets tinkled as they tumbled from the oar back to the sea, a delicate, pretty sound. As he listened to it, he realized how quiet it was out here, away from land. It had been so loud since his arrival. The noise of a thousand desperate souls swimming within the volcano’s pool, then their screams while he descended, and the clamor of town with its crowd of opportunists.

  He was relieved to have this quiet moment.

  Belladin coughed and slapped a hand on the gunwale. “I’ve not run like that in years!”

  “What would’ve happened had they caught us?”

  “Death. A permanent one this time.”

  “You ever die?”

  Belladin laughed as he pulled himself up from the bilge. “No, I came into this world through a womb, not that godforsaken anus called Elusis. And if I had, I’d still be green as you. Greener! If I had any say.”

  “That so? No deliching for Belladin?”

  “Sickness of a lich belies his power.”

  Maddin glanced down at his fists, recalled their speed as they executed his Fury Burst. He reveled in the satisfaction of cartilage flattening under his knuckles, the crunch of bone as the soldier’s skull shattered. Had his Berserker class seeded this bloodlust? Or had he carried it with him to Aldersi?

  It was certainly greater strength than he’d possessed in his former life, but hardly enough to merit the bard’s envy. “All I have is one neat fighting trick.”

  “Presently,” the bard appended. “You must foster your magic, Maddin.”

  The lich shook his head. “How?”

  “As one hones any ability. Through its regular use.” Belladin fished in his robe, came away with a pre-packed pipe and match. He flicked the match against the hull, held its flame to the pipe, and puffed until its contents glowed red-orange. “Close your eyes.”

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  “What for?”

  “Gonna plant a wet one on ya. Just close your fuckin eyes.”

  Maddin obliged, trusting in his other senses to detect Belladin’s movements should the bard attempt a spell of some kind. “Alright, now what?”

  “Man of little patience.”

  “What should I be patiently waiting for?”

  But then he saw it. In the darkness behind his eyelids, a green light appeared. “Ah, there it is,” said Belladin, having observed Maddin’s subtle reaction to its appearance. “Don’t open your eyes.”

  Maddin kept them pinched shut. He focused on the light as it cut back and forth through the dark, trailing green vapor that hung in the air. Before him, a message in emerald mist appeared.

  Berserker, Level 1

  Present abilities:

  Fury Burst

  Lich aether: 6

  Maddin’s curiosity attached to the last figure and in response an explanation scrawled across his vision.

  Liches accrete aether via the expression of their Abilities. Aether may be exchanged for new abilities. Levels unlock abilities. Lich aether required to achieve Level 2: 10. Lich aether required to achieve Level 3: 50. Further Level insights at next Level. Further Ability insights at next Level.

  The green point of light that drew these words suddenly whizzed off into the distance, carving a faint line through the dark. It faded the further out it traveled, where Maddin sensed greater Levels and Abilities awaiting.

  He opened his eyes and they fell on the grinning bard. “Did you see it?”

  Maddin scrubbed one eye, still adjusting between modes. While reviewing the status of his lich magic, he felt transported. Opening his eyes was a jarring return. “Yes,” he replied.

  “What I would give for a taste of that,” said Belladin.

  “How about your life and bodily comfort?”

  Belladin shrugged. “If I knew I’d arrive in an entirely new world full of possibility, sure!”

  Maddin picked up the oar handles, continued to row. “I don’t care about possibility.”

  A smirk slanted across Belladin’s face. “No, only your purpose, which you’ve yet to share.”

  “I’ve yet to confirm its existence.”

  The bard shot Maddin an incredulous look. “Come now, I’ve just saved you from a life of army enslavement. Surely that fosters a bit of trust between the two of us.”

  “Think I did most of the saving.”

  “You killed a soldier. Had I not been there to sow chaos then lead you through it, what might you have done, hm?” Before Maddin could hazard an answer, Belladin provided his own. “Died is what you would’ve done. Again.”

  Maddin rowed in silence for a moment, the bard watching him expectantly. “I’m here to kill someone.”

  Belladin clapped his hands together and smiled. “Ah! There it is. So it’s revenge, eh? Good motive, could think of worse for a story. Vengeance. I can work with that. Tell me more, who’s the man you came to kill?”

  “Reegan.” Even without his sense of taste, the name left an acrid flavor every time he spoke it.

  “Reegan,” the bard echoed, rolling the name around his mouth, appreciating its texture, the possibilities lurking in its two syllables. “What’s Reegan done to earn him your undying ire?”

  Memories stirred by the bard’s question cast a red veil over Maddin’s eyes. Rage colored his vision, amplified by the Class assigned him. “He burned my world to the ground.”

  Belladin nodded. “Vivid, and yet at the same time terribly vague. Care to specify?”

  Maddin watched the awful memories project themselves across his sight, erasing the bard’s lined visage, the boat, the sea, Elusis striving for the heavens. In their place, a woman’s slack features, dead eyes peering into oblivion.

  His fists wrung the oar handles, driving slivers of their wood into his palms. Anger and his new lich body dulled the pain.

  “Maddin?”

  He blinked, peered through the blood-red fog of his fury at the bard.

  Before he could speak, something passed beneath the dinghy, causing it to rock back and forth. Maddin watched a large, dark shape move rapidly through the water.

  Belladin stole an oar from Maddin and began padding with anxious haste. “You’ll be wanting to match my speed, or your quest for vengeance will shortly come to an unsatisfying end.”

  As Maddin went back to rowing, his eyes tracked the sea creature’s path as it curved back toward their boat.