Tyril
Tyril sat on the edge of his bed, his thought whirled around him. After Imp had informed him of his fathers possible revival, he and his wife, whom Tyril had discovered was living in the tower with Imp since the fall of Whitewater, had been transported to an inn in Whitewater.
He could not believe what he had heard. Marik, his father whom he himself had landed the final blow on, might be the very person who would end the cycle. No matter how much he mulled over the thoughts, everything seemed to line up, will almost everything.
The only differences between The Reaper and Marik lay in the fact of the possible madness. Marik had not gone mad from the loss of a loved one and he had no siblings that Tyril had ever known of. Marik had gone mad from power, power that he himself had acquired. No one, not even Yourith, Tyrils oldest brother who fought beside Marik, knew how he had came to have those powers.
For the longest time, Tyril had thought he had simply gain them from the aether. However, Tyril had walked the realms of the aether several times and could not find the source of Mariks abilities. Tyril suspected that even Marik had not known where his abilities had come from.
Tyril sat in the darkened room so lost in thought that he had not even heard the door open and shut. He had not even heard his name as his wife, Elvyna, calling his name. He had not realized she was present until her hand touched his.
Moving with a start, Tyril started to pull his sword free from its sheath only to pause as he saw Elvyna staring at him with fear and worry. She did not fear Tyril who had started to unsheath his sword, she feared for Tyril. She was there when he fought with Marik, saw both warriors die, she nearly took her own life just to be with him.
She had been the one to carry Tyrils lifeless body out of the crumbling black kingdom. Been the one to wipe the blood from his still corpse. She was present when he came back, stayed by his side as he learned of his abilities, and even been his anchor when he first established Whitewater.
No, she did not fear Tyrils blade. She knew he would not harm her, no matter how startled he was. What she feared, however, was the thoughts that seemed to sap the very life from his features.
"My love," Elvyna said, her voice soothing, "what bothers you so?"
"If...." Tyrils voice caught in his throat, making it hard for him to speak. He cleared his throat several times before trying once more. "If my father is this.... Reaper," Tyril said the name with disdain, "then that will mean I am the one who released him upon the world."
"We do not know that." Elvyna said firmly, her voice taking an icy edge to it as if to warn Tyril. "Even if he is The Reaper, how could we have possibly known that when you killed him."
"It matters little, my love." Tyril drew Elvyna closer, more to comfort himself then her. "If a child waved a sword around and hurt someone, who is responsible? The parent for not teaching the child, the owner of the sword, or the child who should have known better?"
Elvyna sighed and pulled closer to Tyril, burying her face in his tunic. "I would normally say all three, but-"
"You would be correct." Tyril interrupted Elvyna who was about to say that she doesn't think that situation applies to him. "Its the parents fault for not teaching the child better. The sword owners fault for allowing the child to weird a weapon he did not understand. The child's fault for causing harm. I am the child, just as the Gods are the sword owner, and the Source is the parent."
Elvyna sat on the bed listening to Tyrils heart beat. She could have made a number of arguments, blamed the Gods for not passing the legend on, or curse the Source himself for creating such a creature. Elvyna kept quiet, however, knowing that no argument she made would count as plausible.
"What do we do now?" Elvyna asked after some time passed.
"We will work with the others and try to find a way around this." Tyril spoke quietly as his hand brushed Elvynas hair. "Who knows, maybe we will be able to learn more about this legend and why he keeps appearing."
Adrian
Adrian rode on the back of his young dragon companion, the wind tossing his long hair around his face. His thoughts were not on what Imp had said, they lingered more on what he saw ahead. Ahead of him, in an old dead village, the very village he had grew up in, it appeared to have people walking the streets.
At first Adrian had thought he was going mad, the village was destroyed long ago by the necromancers and he had been the lone survivor. He knew no one would willingly go to this village for fear that they may get cursed.
As Adrian flew closer to the village, he noticed something odd. These people, those that walked the streets, were the very same people who had been killed by the necromancers. His dragon, Starlight, hovered over the village for a long moment.
From a distance, they appeared to be alive, however, up close it was apparent they were spirits. Adrian did not stay for long, it was not for fear of the curse that was said to be on the village. He had no desire to dredge up his past, the past he had put behind him.
He was no longer a farmers son, he was the warrior known as Adrian, brother of Grall. Adrian felt a small pang in his chest as Grall entered his thoughts. He had not been able to spend any time with Grall lately. His best friend and brother had been so busy with other matters that Adrian had started to seek out his own adventures, that is what led him to this village.
Adrian sighed and directed Starlight to fly away. He didn't know who he would tell about this, but he knew someone had to know.
Cassandra
Cassandra landed on the flying castles courtyard. After their meeting with Imp, Cassandra had decided to do some research of her own in the one place that held more knowledge then those of the towers, her home. Cassandra began to walk through the abandoned courtyard, her thoughts going to the past.
She had once walked this path as nothing more then the shame of the altain race. Back then she was young, weak, and naive. Cassandra scoffed at the memories, at her foolishness to believe she would come to no harm. Instead, she had been beaten, raped, starved, and tortured at the age of six.
Cassandra hurried through the courtyard, wanting to escape the memories from those days. She had gotten her revenge, but the pain that was etched into her heart remained. She had not wanted to bring those memories she had worked so hard to bury to the forefront of her mind, but she needed to get to the court library and this was the only unobstructed way there.
As Cassandra approached the door, a voice called out to her. A familiar voice, one that should be long dead. Cassandra turned to meet the voice, her sword in hand.
Cassandra found herself staring at a spirit, the spirit of Mileanas, Cassandra's mother. "Is that how you greet your mother, my dear?"
Cassandra's lips curled into a snare, she was one of the last people Cassandra wished to see. "You are no mother of mine." Cassandra said in retaliation.
"Oh?" The spirit feigned confusion and pretended to ponder Cassandra's words. "If that's the case, then can I have my head back?"
Cassandra turned from the spirit in disgust, she could not do anything about her, but she would not be able to follow her. Cassandra tried to open the doors to the court library, only to find it locked. The spirit, for Cassandra refused to call her by name or title, remained where she was, watching Cassandra.
Cassandra lifted her leg and slammed her foot against the door. With a satisfying crack, the door flew off of its hinges and Cassandra stepped in. To Cassandra's surprise and anger, the spirit followed after.
"What is it you are looking for, my daughter?" The spirit asked in a mocking tone. "Is it perhaps information on The Reaper?"
Cassandra, who had been stepping around the bodys of other altains who were killed in this room by her own hands, looked up. "How-"
"Did I know?" The spirit finished for her, a satisfied look on her face. "Haven't you been wondering why I am here?" When Cassandra didn't answer her, the spirit continued. "The viel is weakening, this means The Reaper is growing in power."
"Can you tell me who The Reaper is?" Cassandra said, she made no effort to hide her dislike of the spirit, nor her worry over the veils weakening.
"Oh dear daughter," the spirit said, "of course I will. The Reaper is not who you think it is, however and I hope you are prepared for the answer."
"Just tell me spirit, or begone from my sight." Cassandra screamed, her anger caused the wood around them to tremble.
"The Reaper is the orc known as Grall." The spirit said with a chuckle.
Grodak
Xierma sought out Grodak the moment he returned. They sat across from each other in their room, Grodak told Xierma everything Imp had told him and Xierma told him everything she had uncovered from her investigation of The Reaper.
"I do not think Marik is The Reaper," Xierma said, her voice adamant, "I think its someone alive. Parchment that we uncovered reveal that when The Reapers powers begin to strengthen, the veil will start to weaken."
"If The Reaper is alive," Grodak said, "then who could he or she be?"
"Thats what I sent my spys to find out." Xierma spoke quickly, she needed to get back to her tower soon because Fluffles was to report in soon. "My guess is an extremely powerful necromancer or someone of equal power that can control the dead."
Grodak nodded his head, Xierma left shortly after as Grodak thought everything over. However, Xierma returned moments later. "The Reaper is Grall." She shouted as she entered the room.
"Impossible." Grodak began to say but stopped himself, knowing better to doubt Xiermas spys. "What makes you say that?"
"I sent Fluffles to the mural, the one he had used previously to move through time, and there, he saw your brother leaving." Xierma spoke in such a hurry that Grodak had a hard time understanding her at first.
"So?" Grodak said, his voice taking on a dark undertone. He did not like the idea of anyone spying on his family. "He probably just visited the place to see what Fluffles was talking about."
"Thats not all." Xierma, who usually kept a calm cool air about her, now looked worried and angered, as if she had been the one who was accused of being The Reaper. "As he left, he spoke of The Reaper," Grodak opened his mouth to say something but a swift look from Xierma made him close it, "I do not mean how you and I speak of The Reaper. He kept using I and me, at one point he even flat out said he was once The Reaper."
Grodak stared at Xierma, feeling as though the world had been tipped upside down on him. "How could he be The Reaper?" Grodak asked after a few minutes of silence. "He is a God, the God of death. He was rewarded such powers for defeating the previous God of death."
"I do not think he became the God of death," Xierma said, her mind seemed to be putting all the pieces together as she spoke, "I think that near death experience was the catalyst for him to gain his abilities as The Reaper."
"Then how did he find out?" Grodak asked, his voice came out unusually calm.
"I do not know," Xierma spoke without noticing the unusual calm of Grodak voice, "maybe he knew all along and that was the reason he faced off with the God."
"Good guess," a voice spoke from behind them, Gralls voice, "but you would be wrong."
Grodak stood up, unsheathing his sword, and stood between Grall and Xierma. "Is this true, Grall?" Grodak shouted, his words sounded strangled to his ears. "Are you The Reaper?"
"The Source says I am, so do the Gods." Grall spoke slowly, making no move towards Grodak or Xierma. "I, however, do not have any memories of being The Reaper."
"How did you find out?" Grodak asked, his sword felt heavy in his grip.
"When we were in Darkwater," Grall said, reliving that day, "after the armored knight killed me, the source pulled me through the void and told me all that I needed to know about myself."
Silence encompassed the room, for a long moment, no one spoke, no one breathed, for fear that this was the end of everything. As the silence continued, a new sound echoed into the room. The sound of running footsteps heading for the door.
"I should go." Grall suddenly disappeared into the Shadow World. Grodak reached out to stop Grall but he was already gone. Grodak reached out his hand to pull Grall back to his side through the Shadow World but found his connection blocked.
Just as he began to wonder what kind of sorcery Grall was working up, Adrian busted in. "The spirits of the dead are walking the world."
Grodak stared at Adrian in confusion. The spirits walked the world...
"The veil has weakened enough for them to appear." Xierma spoke in a hushed tone.
Grall
Grall stood in the Shadow World, his hands trembled with fear. He did not fear Grodak, he feared himself and what he was doing to the world. He had noticed it after speaking with Imp. The spirits of the dead were walking the world and it was his fault.
Grall walked through the gray land scape, looking for the one orc he knew he could trust, Wreag. "Wreag," he said when he found the orc training others, "what should I do?"
Wreag turned to look at Grall, seeing the sorrow on Gralls face made the orcs own features soften a bit. "What seems to be the problem, chieftain of none?"
Grall explained the situation to Wreag, and Wreag listened. He had not seemed to be surprised that Grall was The Reaper, nor was he surprised to find out what The Reaper was meant to do.
"Listen," Wreag said as Grall finished, "I am Talengar reincarnated. I hold in my mind all of his memories, including the memories of when you approached Talengar, questioning him. The only being in existence who knows what you are capable of is me and as long as you do not go mad, you should be fine."
Grall nodded his head in understanding. He knew Wreag was right, he knew the moment he met Talengar that he and Wreag shared a connection.
"The others won't believe that." Grall said, his voice low, so low Talengar thought he had imagined it.
Grall turned to leave, he had somewhere he wanted to be. A place he had to visit before he passed away.
Grall walked through the pathway he created and stood in front of a grave marker. For a long moment, Grall remained silent. He did not want to disturb the serenity of this place.
"Hi, Leah." Grall said as he choked back his tears. "I miss you, my soul."
Grall leaned down and placed his hand on the stone that marked Leah's grave. He took off his helmet, placing it beside her grave marker, and bowed his head, letting the tears flow.
Footsteps sounded next to Grall, signaling someone standing close by. Grall didn't look up, he continued to keep his head bowed. He had expected the stranger to attack him, demand money from him, possibly make fun of the weak orc who cried over his wife's grave.
The stranger did none of that, they instead placed a hand on his convulsing shoulder, as to comfort him. "Im here, my love."
Gralls head shot up, his face turning to the source of the voice and finding Leah, his wife, kneeling beside him. Grall knew the moment he saw her, she was here as a spirit and nothing more.
"No!" Grall shouted in anger. "Why are you here? Why aren't you in the spirit realm?"
"I came to see you." Leah said, a sweet smile touched her lips as her brown hair seemed to frame her features. "The veil was finally weak enough that I could come see you."
Grall reached out to cup her face, only for his hands to pass through her. Grall let out a grief stricken moan.
"Grall, my love, listen," Leah said, her voice came out in a hurry which caused Grall to look up, "I love you and I know-"
Before Leah could finish her sentence, a demon appeared behind her. He struck her with his long claws, causing Leah to scream out in pain. Grall jumped to his feet and unsheathed Oathbreaker. He lunged at the demon with full force only to be knocked off to the side as if he was nothing more then a fly.
The demon chuckled as he pulled Leah's hair, forcing her head back. "You will make for a good snack." The demon said as he brought his claws down on her neck, cutting her ghostly head from her body.
Grall watched on in horror, knowing full will that demons ate souls and those they ate could never return to the source. Those souls were lost forever. He forced himself to stand, every bone in his body, every cell, protested this, but Grall wasn't about to lose his wife a second time.
He brought Oathbreaker over his head and swung it down on.... nothing. The demon had disappeared and taken Leah's soul with it.
Grall stared at the ground where the demon had stood over Leah in disbelief. Slowly his eyes went to where Leah had stood, she was gone. At that moment, he felt something inside his mind snap and madness took over.
Grall let out an unnatural scream, a strange power burst through his body, making its way from his head to his toes before leaping out of his body and attacking the ground. The surrounding plants and animals all fell dead instantly. The strange power didn't stop at Gralls surroundings, it continued to move, killing everything and everyone it touched.