Death: Genesis

“Again!” spat Master Silas as he loomed over Talia. She looked up at him from where she’d fallen and glared. The man had died before he’d had a chance to ascend, which should have meant that he was so far beneath her that even touching her should have been a distant dream. And yet, he’d still managed to establish himself as her superior. “You will never be a true fighter if you can’t even defeat me, girl.”

Talia ground her teeth, but she didn’t immediately rise. She’d been sparring with her former teacher for longer than she cared to admit, and she had yet to land even a single blow. It was infuriating, and the anger coursing through her was as distracting as it was unexpected.

She hadn’t eaten a heart in quite some time, and it had been days since she’d consumed her last heartsblood elixir. So, her emotions should have been distant, quarantined away from her thoughts.

But they weren’t.

Instead, they wrapped her in the tight grip of nostalgia, anger, and regret, squeezing until she couldn’t even begin to ignore their influence. It truly was like she was back in the Mortal Realm, well before she’d ever been transformed into an unliving Revenant. Which told her that none of it was real.

As genuine as they felt, the emotions were a projection of the dungeon. It had somehow read her mind, found the events of her past, and inserted the appropriate emotions. It was the only explanation that made any sense at all.

Still, knowing that and doing something about it were two very different things.

Because the challenge before her was clear. If she wanted to move on, she needed to defeat her former master. Back in the Radiant Isles, Zeke had been the one to kill Silas. Talia had always regretted that she’d never had the chance to show the man how far she’d come.

He wasn’t evil. He was just misguided. Dedicated to a woman who’d fully embraced her insanity. So, while he’d done terrible things, he’d done so out of a sense of duty and, Talia suspected, love.

Did that excuse his actions?

Maybe. Reasons mattered, though Talia wasn’t certain if they were more or less important than results. If someone killed a thousand people, was she evil? Some would say so. But what if killing those thousand people was done in service of a just nation? What if they were criminals? What if they were ruthless terrorists? Talia didn’t know if those details would change the nature of the act, but she did know that context tended to complicate everything.

The world was not black and white. There were more shades than simple good and evil. And Silas was an example of that.

However, Talia’s perception of the man had taken quite a hit each time he’d knocked her from her feet.

Finally, Talia picked herself up and said, “You don’t have to do this. I know you’re not real.”

“I’m as real as you are, girl,” he responded, taking a fighting stance. In a vacuum, it was a ridiculous looking thing, with one pointed foot far out front and his hands held loosely before him. Yet, Talia knew precisely how effective it could be. “All you have to do is strike me. Just one time, and I’ll let you go for the day.”

Talia wanted to roll her eyes, but she restrained the impulse. Instead, she turned away from the martial arts master, looking around the room. She knew she was in atop a cliff overlooking the jungle, with the mountain looming on the other side. And yet, that was not what she saw. Instead, she found herself in the old training wing of her mother’s palace. There were a dozen members of the Radiant Guard training in the space, but Talia knew they were no more real than the columns encircling the area. Instead, only Master Silas was solid.

Regardless, the sight brought back a host of memories that were better left forgotten. Countless hours spent training, all for naught. Her mother would never have let her be a true warrior – not because it was dangerous. Not because she was unsuited to that path. Rather, she was prohibited from taking the proper skills because that would have ruined Constance’s plans to sacrifice her in order to resurrect a father Talia had never really known.

From the very start, she had been destined for failure. And what’s worse, everyone who should have cared about her knew precisely what was going on. She had been fattened for slaughter and treated not like a person, but as a means to a nefarious end.

Anger gripped Talia’s heart, and more thoroughly than at any point in her life. It was at that moment that she realized that she’d never truly dealt with her feelings surrounding her mother’s betrayal. In the direct aftermath, she’d been robbed of her emotions by her transformed race. Being undead came with a host of benefits, but the most useful had been that it had left her with a completely even keel. Despite what had happened, she’d felt very little.

But looking back, Talia knew that her emotions had never disappeared. They were still there, waiting to pounce at the most inopportune moment, and that was where they would remain until she dealt with them.

Or perhaps they would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Whatever the case, fury welled up inside her, wrapping around her heart and mind until there was nothing else left. Her mother’s betrayal, she had accepted. It was terrible, and in all the worst ways. However, she’d never been that close with Constance. But Silas Martel? He’d been the surrogate parent she needed. She’d thought he cared. That he would do whatever it took to protect her.

Yet, he hadn’t.

He was no better than Constance. Worse, even. At least Talia’s mother had never truly pretended to care. She’d gone through the motions, but Talia had always known that Constance was too distant to love anyone. In retrospect, Talia recognized that that detachment was characteristic of someone who’d been at the peak of a realm for too long without ascending. Not that that excused her actions – it didn’t. But it explained them.

In any case, Silas was supposed to be different. He was always more human. He had always treated her with care and kindness. And all the while, he knew that she was destined for sacrifice.

That betrayal hurt worse.

Before she could suppress those emotions, she said, “You were supposed to care about me.”

“I care about my duty, girl. For a while, that was your development.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“So I could be sacrificed?” she spat.

“Indeed. I trained you to fight so that you wouldn’t get yourself killed before it was time,” he said, his tone cold and unfeeling. That was unlike the Silas she’d known. He had always been warm. Kind. Demanding, certainly. But he had cared about her. This version clearly did not. Was it all an act? Or had he simply buried it?

Or more accurately, was this a calculated reenactment meant to elicit specific emotions? That seemed more in line with Talia’s expectations.

“You died. You know that, don’t you? Zeke beat you.”

“Is that what you think? How could a child defeat me? I am the greatest fighter the Radiant Isles have ever seen. I –”

Talia didn’t let him finish. Instead, she darted forward, aiming a swift kick at his forward leg. He pulled back just enough that she missed, and yet, she’d never intended the attack to do any real damage. Instead, it was only meant to establish her range. She kicked again, keeping the attack low so she wouldn’t overbalance herself.

Silas blocked it with a raised shin.

“Is that all you can muster?” he needled.

Talia ignored him, launching a blisteringly fast series of kicks and punches. He blocked or dodged them all, though a couple sent him skidding backwards. She didn’t have access to her skills, but her stats were just as high as always. Unfortunately, Silas attributes had been augmented as well, reaching the point where he was as far above her now as he had been right before her ascension to the Eternal Realm.

She continued on, never slowing. Silas deftly avoided each attack, often slapping them aside just enough to disperse her momentum. Talia remained under control, though. She had learned a lot since the last time they’d fought, and she had become a much more calculated fighter.

However, the real problem quickly became apparent. She’d long since embraced a reliance on her skills, and without them, she felt naked and unprepared for any fight. So, she didn’t put up quite the showing she would have preferred. Still, she was far from unskilled, and she kept Silas on his back foot.

But frustratingly, she couldn’t seize any advantage.

Then, suddenly, he snapped out a kick that took her in the stomach. It didn’t harness the full might he had available, but it was enough to send her skidding backward. Her abdominal muscles spasmed, and if she’d needed to breathe, she would have had the breath knocked out of her. Even with that small advantage that came with her status as one of the unliving, she still found herself reeling from the sudden and powerful attack.

Silas didn’t let up, advancing with a series of sharp kicks that kept Talia on the defensive. She blocked and dodged, just as he had, but she felt a sense of panic rising in her heart as she came to realize that Silas was, at the very core of his technique, better than her.

“You are still just as pitiful as ever,” he disdainfully said. “No wonder your mother wanted to sacrifice you.”

Talia didn’t respond, though her seething anger reached a crescendo as she threw herself at him. In doing so, she completely abandoned technique, fully embracing the instincts she’d developed after becoming a revenant. Silas wasn’t prepared for that, and for a few seconds, the momentum of the fight shifted, and for the first time, he was thrown off balance. That spurred Talia on to new heights of fury. Her hands and feet blurred as her rage translated to speed.

And then, she nicked him with her claws.

It only resulted in a scratch, but Talia knew it was the beginning of the end. Because even if she didn’t have access to her skills, her Will was just as available as always. As such, she’d embraced the Path of Decay, which did precisely what the name implied. Normally, it only enhanced her skills, but even alone, it could prove deadly.

Against Silas, though, it only resulted in a slight weakening that manifested in the form of a minute decrease in his speed. It was enough to give Talia more leeway, and yet, iit wasn’t long before Silas once again turned the tables.

“Cheap tricks,” he spat. “A true warrior could defeat me without skills or paths.”

Talia ignored him, throwing herself at him with renewed fury. Back and forth they went, periodically gaining or losing advantages until Talia landed another blow, which resulted in a second decay-infused scratch. The fight went on, though Silas was once again slowed. He adjusted well, embracing his prowess in martial arts to minimized the effect.

For his part, he landed plenty of attacks as well, though they did no lasting damage other than cause a bit of pain that Talia had no trouble disregarding. He hit like a truck, and against most people, even the lightest punch would have been enough to break bones. However, Talia was still under the effect of Zeke’s skill, which augmented her endurance and strength. In addition, she was no slouch when it came to durability, largely owing to her unique class and constitution.

So, even though Silas had the clear advantage in terms of landing blows, his inability to do lasting damage spelled his doom.

Talia kept going, and over time, each time one of her attacks was successful, the decay in Silas’ body mounted further. After a dozen or so scratches, the smell of rot had filled the air. A dozen more, and Silas’ skin grew pallid. After that, it was all downhill until, at last, he collapsed under his own weight.

Talia could hear the weak fluttering of his heartbeat, and even though he was obviously dying, he still managed to growl, “You are a disgrace to everything I ever taught you. Relying on skills and Will is a weakness. You know this. A true warrior would –”

She ignored him. Instead, with a furious stomp, she brought her foot down on the man’s face. That still didn’t silence him, so she did it again, dislodging his jaw in a splatter of blackened gore. The rot had infused his bones, weakening them until they couldn’t resist even her strength.

Still, he gurgled something Talia couldn’t understand.

So, she stomped him again. And again after that until, at last, his skull shattered beneath her foot. Only then did she realize that her breath was coming in ragged pants, and she dropped to her knees, tears coming down her cheeks.

She said, “A true warrior uses every weapon at her disposal. The real you taught me that.”