Never Die Twice

His little shop was overcrowded, and he hated it.

“Thank you for coming!” Tye said while Laufey was equally busy finalizing a potion sale. “Thank you, that will be one hundred gold coins.” “Thank you for coming!” “Thank you!”

He had become a ‘thank you’ machine, and they kept coming. Adventurers, old grandma, kids, all of Lyonesse. An army of admirers buzzing like insects. They kept invading his private space like cockroaches, sucking him dry.

Please, stop.

Tye was kind and sensitive. Too many customer interactions in a day drained him more than a vampire’s kiss.

A week after the Convergence, his worst nightmares had become reality. If fulfilling the orders to help with Lyonesse’s reconstruction wasn’t stressful enough, everyone wanted a potion from the ‘Giantslayer,’ as they called him. Soldiers still hunting the last of the giants wanted equipment, masons needed potions to strengthen the new buildings...

As evening approached, Tye sighed in relief as salvation approached. “I’m closing shop!” He shouted to the line of customers, who groaned in protestation. “I have to sleep too!”

It was a lie, but he genuinely couldn’t take it anymore. Thankfully, the clients respected him enough to leave… with one, redheaded exception.

“Hello there,” ‘Morgane’ said with a charming, confident smile. While less smug than the original, the very sight of her still annoyed Tye. “Closing shop? And here I thought we could have a drink with my dear Laufey.”

“With pleasure,” his assistant said, although more for the sake of the customers.

“That’s a good idea,” a client said. “Hey, Tye, what if we invite you—”

“You are very kind, but no thanks,” the necromancer replied with genuine frustration.“I will let these two drink here, but the rest of you, out. I’m closing.”

This time, at the sight of his tired, angry face, nobody else complained.

As Laufey pushed everyone towards the exit, the necromancer remained behind his counter while looking at ‘Morgane.' The witch smiled coyly while stroking her hair, mimicking humanity almost perfectly.

The [Shadow Fiend] was one of Tye’s familiars: a thief of the body from the dark realm of Niflheim and one of Laufey’s ‘handmaidens.’ These creatures burned out their hosts, ‘riding’ them until their destruction before jumping into another, constantly searching for physical sensations they were denied as bodiless spirits. Tye had theorized that, with an alchemically modified form of vampirism, he could create an immortal vessel that could sustain the possession.

So of course, when presented with the offer of a permanent body, the fiend had readily accepted to serve.

The main weakness of vampires was their tendency to go down in flames during the day, since they lost their soul during the transition. Vampires were soulless shells as shown by their lack of shadow, husks with fragmented memories of their past life. By binding a spirit to immediately replace the original soul, the necromancer could ‘correct’ the imbalance without the body decaying too much, getting the best of both worlds.

During the day, Morgane’s vampiric powers were suppressed, and she behaved like any other human. She cast a shadow and a reflection. She ate food and drank water.

At night though, while her true nature remained hidden, Morgane’s powers and thirst for blood returned. The ‘special’ potions Tye produced would deal with that hunger.

In short, she was a major milestone in the history of necromancy. An immortal undead which could easily pass for human, with almost none of the weaknesses of her prototype. If Tye could find a way to keep the original soul anchored to the body without compromising the physical transformation, immortality for all human beings was definitely within reach. They would even gain supernatural powers to boot.

There was still the matter of the blood addiction though. That part needed to go.

Finally, the cherry on top of the cake… through their familiar bond, Tye could see and hear through her anytime he wished. Not that he had the time to do so, with all the current chaos.

Until now.

After Laufey closed the door and the windows, leaving the shop empty except for the three of them, Tye cast a few spells to guarantee their secrecy. He then jumped right to business. “If you managed to blend in so well, I assume the procedure worked perfectly, and you can now access all your host body’s memories?”

“My body’s memories.” As he had suspected, while the soul carried the immortal essence of a person, the brain was the place where mortal souvenirs were created and stored. “I believe I remember the previous tenant’s life even better than she did.”

“Laufey informed me of your… recent excesses.” Overdrinking, fooling around with classmates, and discreet self-harm before her vampiric regeneration kicked in. Even Laufey apparently ‘enjoyed’ her company during a potion delivery.

“I’m just discovering the pleasures of a physical existence,” Morgane replied, moving her hands to her breasts in a sensual way. “Nothing wrong with it.”

“Not if it threatens your cover,” Tye replied, as cold like winter's chill.

“They think I am just dealing with my ‘near-death encounter’ in my own way,” she chuckled. “I am Morgane, now and forever.”

Good. Very good. “Tell me everything about the princess.”

“Mmm…” The vampire sat on his counter. “First, I have to start with her sister’s story. That of Morgane Sieglinde, unknown daughter of King Siegfried.”

“A bastard then?” Tye guessed, pleasantly surprised. His [Blood Magic] worked better if targets shared close familial ties, so he could always target the princess through Morgane. “I assume the story of her being the princess’ cousin was a mere cover-up?”

“Oh, far from it. She’s dear Gwenhyfar’s half-sister and her cousin.”

It took a minute for the ghastly implications to dawn on Tye. “The king and his sister?” he asked for confirmation with disgust. And people called him a monster?

“Poor Morgane was soiled from birth,” Laufey replied, her voice dripping with perverse fascination.

“Obviously, the king would never reveal the truth, so he married off his sister to a noble, with the promise of a generous donation for looking the other way,” the vampire said. “Poor Morgane never took her lack of recognition well. She looked with jealousy at her trueborn siblings, and through her sister, saw the opportunity to rule.”

“She wants to take the throne?” Tye shrugged. “Absurd. Prince Arthur is a chosen of the gods, prophesied to be the best king in Avalon’s history, the Jarl of all Jarls. No one will support the princess’ selfish ambition.”

“Indeed, and she’s aware of it. But behind doors, poor Gwen is dissatisfied with Avalon’s state. Since she started attending the Academy, she has exchanged with Earthlanders and their culture; learned how things are in their world. How there are no thralls, and the fate of the world is not bound by either apocalyptic prophecies nor the will of the gods. She thinks Avalon would be better served by a fairer, more egalitarian system, where there are no slaves and no Jarl has power over life and death.”

“Oh?” This drew Tye’s attention since he himself fought to change the world for the better. “Has she tried to convince her father and brother?”

“Yes, but her father will not budge from his ways, and her brother won’t be swayed from his destiny. While Morgane advised her to take the revolutionary path, she instead decided to follow the lawful approach.”

“Being elected Queen by the Jarls.” Avalon may be a monarchy, but the Jarls had great power. When a ruler died, they gathered in a so-called ‘Kingsmeet’ to select who would take the throne among the candidates. More than one dynasty had ended after a narrow vote. “A tall order, considering her brother’s own powerbase.”

The full picture began to form in Tye’s mind. To get even a chance at being elected, princess Gwenhyfar had to prove herself as a great warrior and leader. She needed victories, against the Convergences, against villains, the flashier the better.

As he had expected, her whole crusade was a public relationships move.

However, there was the question of Nastrond. “Does she know anything about the undercity?”

“She refused to divulge her reasons behind her quest to conquer your dungeon, master,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Even my predecessor did not understand her obsession with it. But I may soon.”

“The princess invited her and the Jarl to a private, secret discussion tonight,” Laufey said, “They should employ guards with tighter tongues.”

“To discuss what?” Tye asked although he had his suspicions.

“My, but you, my master,” Morgane smirked. “The ‘Master Below,’ as they call you. Now that the giants are dealt with… you will be next.”

Tye smiled, searching under his desk for his specially prepared batch of potions. He brought two of them, each colorless.

“The left one for the Jarl,” the necromancer insisted. “The right for the Princess.”

In the depths of his underground sanctuary, wearing his robes and mask, Walter Tye meditated until the fateful moment.

His mind glimpsed through Morgane’s eyes and ears, as she exchanged banalities with the Jarl’s guards, waiting for the meeting to begin. Since he had some free time ahead of him, Tye decided to finally cash in on his new levels, opening his status screen to assign them.

You can take three levels in either of these two classes: [Infernal Alchemist] or [Loremaster].

Loremaster? He had unlocked a new class?

[Loremaster]: A keeper of secrets and scholar of the forbidden, who sacrificed morals for magical supremacy. Loremasters know that information is power, and gain access to esoteric abilities, such as mastery of the [Runes].

He must have unlocked it through his own research and attempts to break the seal of Nastrond; a task which [Loremaster] could probably help him with. Tye preferred to max out his classes, as he did with [Necromancer] before it was promoted into [Deathlord], and more [Infernal Alchemist] levels would help in his research.

However, his curiosity about Nastrond's true nature, and the possibility of unlocking this necropolis’ secrets, won him out. Tye assigned his three new levels to [Loremaster].

Congratulations. You gained three levels in [Loremaster], alongside the [Runemaster] and [Trap Symbol] class perks.

+30 HP, +60 SP, +1 VIT, +1 SKI, +6 INT, +3 CHA, +3 LCK.

[Runemaster]: You gain understanding of all runes and access to the [Rune] magic specialization. Increase your maximum spellcasting Tier by one.

[Trap Symbol]: When you inscribe a [Rune], you can add one of your known spells to the symbol, alongside activation conditions. When they are met, the spell is automatically cast, and the rune erased afterward.

Mmm, excellent Special Points and Intelligence growth, mediocre or average elsewhere. The new tier and access to the [Rune] specialization could only serve him well though; with a new tier of spellcasting available, his power had grown tenfold.

Tye’s eyes shifted to his painting collection, accumulated over the decades. From landscapes to mythical scenes of Avalon’s history, all of them fascinated him; much like a good sculpture.

An artist capturing a moment of eternity. That was the essence of art, and undeath.

He could have spent the night mentally resting by watching them before a quick glance through Morgane’s eyes told Tye they had already started discussing. He focused on his agent, watching a gathering around a teapot in the Jarl’s estate.

“--the death of my son Lamor will not go unavenged,” the Jarl said, Tye finally seeing his face no longer hidden beneath a helm. He was old, with gray hair, wrinkles, and scars, pushing his sixties. Yet his blue eyes brimmed with determination. “You said you had identified one of the culprits, Your Highness?”

The princess nodded. “Have you heard of the Pale Serpents?”

Tye froze.

“That vile sect of necromancers?” The Jarl tightened his fists. “Your Highness cannot believe…”

“I do,” Gwenhyfar said, before noticing Morgane’s true lack of understanding and telling her the official truth. “The Pale Serpents were a group of necromancers, back when the practice was tolerated by the Kingdom.”

“But they were found guilty of monstrous crimes,” the Jarl spouted the royal propaganda.

No, Tye thought, filled with a mortal anger he thought long gone from his heart. We were framed, so the King and the Aesir could justify our destruction.

“-they abducted people to experiment on them-”

Willing subjects who had nowhere to go.

“-raised the dead from Helheim-”

So they could free mankind from the gods’ grasp.

“-created warped monsters-”

So they could master eternal life for all.

“-they were abominable villains, all of them.”

We were visionaries. We still are.

“In response, the Royal Knights wiped them out thirty years ago and burned their citadel to the ground,” the princess said. “Some of their knowledge survived, but as far as my father could tell, all the necromancers were killed and their corpses destroyed.”

“Or so he thought,” Morgane ‘guessed’.

“You believe this ‘Master Below’ is a survivor from the purge?” the Jarl asked. “If so, my son’s soul…”

“Through research, I identified one of the spells the sorcerer used on us, [Death X], as forbidden necromancy,” Gwenhyfar explained, proving herself far too smart and competent for her own good. ”The Dullahan who served the warlock was also identified as Hagen of Vendemar.”

“Hagen No Mercy?” The Jarl frowned. “I heard of his ‘exploits.’”

“I haven’t,” Morgane admitted.

“He was the vassal of Gunther, a Jarl of Vendemar one hundred years ago,” Jarl Gales explained. “But Hagen’s heart was ruled by greed. He murdered his own brother to steal a magical ring, stabbed a Royal Knight in the back during an official duel, and for a time was the most villainous knight living. He was eventually caught and beheaded.”

“The undead’s behavior matched the living Hagen’s own treacherous ways,” Gwenhyfar explained. “Only a powerful necromancer could raise a villain of that caliber from the dead, one hundred years after his demise, and bind him into servitude. The overwhelming number of undead in the lower levels, the appearance of the toxic slimes, and the traps also point at an intelligent will behind the dungeon’s monsters...”

Tye chuckled to himself. In truth, he and Hagen had met in Helheim after their first deaths and collaborated to escape that dreary realm. The necromancer considered the Dullahan more of an old companion than a subordinate.

In any case, the princess had identified the Necromancer’s true nature, which made her a big, big problem.

The more he listened to the meeting though, the more he grew convinced she didn’t know about Nastrond. She had set her eyes on Tye for the fame that she would gain, once she defeated the ‘Last Necromancer.'

And unlike the Jarl, at no point did she even touch the tea. When Morgane made a note about it, the princess pretended not to be thirsty, but Tye knew a liar when he saw one.

Her paranoia and intellect were off the charts.

“I intend to attack the dungeon tomorrow, to cut the snake’s head for good, and avenge the fallen.” The princess turned to Jarl Gales. “Do I have your support?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” he promised. “My guards and I shall be your shield.”

“My life is yours, Gwen,” ‘Morgane’ promised. “Now and forever.”

“Thank you,” she replied with a faint, but genuine smile. “Let us prevail.”

And so the meeting ended, with the Jarl marked for death, and the princess escaping doom’s grasp once more.

Afterward, Tye mentally returned to his sanctuary, and cast a spell. “[Blood Link].”

Through the alchemical substance that Morgane had put in his tea, the sorcerer immediately sensed a connection form between himself and Jarl Gales. The necromancer could hear his blood pumping, his heart beating, the song of his organs.

He waited a good two hours like a stalking predator, until the man was asleep, and then activated the trap.

“[Heart Curse].”

Tye felt the Jarl’s heart stop through their bond. He sensed the man gasp for his sorry life, trying to scream for help as the pain awakened him from his sleep, only for death to swiftly claim his soul.

No heroic death for the Jarl, although a Valkyrie would probably claim him for his ‘heroic’ deeds.

No trace of the Necromancer's magic would be left behind, and autopsies wouldn’t notice anything suspicious; considering the Jarl’s own age and the stress of the previous battle, it would be seen as a regrettable accident. The princess would probably suspect murder, but she couldn’t prove it.

As for her… Tomorrow, Princess Gwenhyfar would be gone.

One way or another.