《Death Cursed》 Chapter One: A Visit from an Old Acquaintance The wind sighed through the cracks in the ancient stones of the tower, carrying the chill of a world that had long since moved on. Perched high in the forgotten peaks, the tower was an island of isolation, its lone occupant shrouded in centuries of self-imposed exile. Dorian Kael sat by the fire, its flickering light casting long shadows across the room. Around him were the remnants of a life stretched too thin¡ªscrolls and books from empires that had crumbled to dust, trinkets from eras no one remembered. He stared at the empty page before him, the quill in his hand motionless. After 11,765 years, what else was there to say? The fire wavered, its light dimming as an unfamiliar warmth filled the room. Dorian looked up, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of the dagger at his belt¡ªa pointless reflex. He knew who it was before the figure even appeared. ¡°You¡¯ve redecorated,¡± said a voice, smooth and calm, with just a hint of humor. The figure stepped out of the shadows, not cloaked in ominous black but draped in a simple robe that shifted like sunlight through leaves. Death smiled¡ªa friendly, almost casual expression that somehow made him even more unsettling. ¡°Death,¡± Dorian said, his voice flat. ¡°It¡¯s been a while.¡± ¡°Just a few millennia,¡± Death replied, inspecting the room with an appraising glance. ¡°You¡¯ve certainly mastered the art of solitude. I¡¯m impressed. Though I have to say, I didn¡¯t expect you to last this long without losing your mind.¡± Dorian leaned back in his chair, his gray eyes narrowing. ¡°What do you want?¡± Death sighed, the sound more weary than ominous, and pulled up a chair that hadn¡¯t been there a moment before. He sat down, folding his hands neatly in his lap. ¡°Straight to the point, as always. I appreciate that about you, Dorian. No, ¡®How¡¯s the afterlife?¡¯ or ¡®Still enjoying your work?¡¯ Just business.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°You¡¯re not here for small talk,¡± Dorian said, his tone sharp. ¡°So, again, what do you want?¡± Death¡¯s smile faded slightly, replaced by an expression that almost resembled sympathy. ¡°I want you to stop hiding.¡± Dorian¡¯s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Death continued, his voice gentler now. ¡°Do you remember what you said to me, all those years ago? The night you begged me for immortality?¡± ¡°I remember,¡± Dorian said bitterly. ¡°I told you I wanted to live forever. To escape death. To be invincible.¡± ¡°And I gave you what you wanted,¡± Death said, nodding. ¡°Your greatest wish, turned into your greatest curse. And here you are, still clinging to it after 11,765 years.¡± Dorian¡¯s hands curled into fists. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what I was asking for.¡± ¡°No one ever does,¡± Death said with a small shrug. ¡°But the point is, you¡¯ve had time. More time than anyone else in existence. You¡¯ve seen the rise and fall of civilizations, the birth of new worlds, the endless cycle of life and death. And yet, you¡¯ve spent the last few centuries locked away in this tower, watching the world from a distance.¡± ¡°Why should I care about the world?¡± Dorian snapped. ¡°It¡¯s better off without me.¡± Death tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. ¡°Is it? Because from what I¡¯ve seen, the world could use someone like you right now. It¡¯s changing again, Dorian. Old powers are stirring, and new ones are trying to take their place. The balance is shifting, and not in a good way.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not my problem,¡± Dorian muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. Death leaned forward, his tone soft but insistent. ¡°It is your problem. Whether you like it or not, you¡¯ve shaped this world in ways no one else ever could. Your choices¡ªyour crimes¡ªthey¡¯ve left marks that haven¡¯t faded, even after all this time. You wanted immortality, and now you have it. But it wasn¡¯t just a curse, Dorian. It was a chance. A chance to do something that matters.¡± Dorian met Death¡¯s gaze, his gray eyes flickering with something between anger and doubt. ¡°Why do you care? You¡¯re Death. What does it matter to you what happens to the world?¡± Death smiled again, this time with genuine warmth. ¡°Because I¡¯ve always liked you, Dorian. For all your flaws¡ªand there are many¡ªyou¡¯ve got potential. And because, believe it or not, I don¡¯t enjoy seeing people suffer. I want you to stop running from what you are and start being what you could be.¡± Silence filled the room, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Finally, Dorian sighed and leaned back in his chair. ¡°If I do this... if I step back into the world... what then?¡± Death stood, his form seeming to shimmer like heatwaves. ¡°Then you¡¯ll find out, won¡¯t you? Life¡¯s a lot more interesting when you¡¯re part of it.¡± And with that, he was gone, leaving the room warmer and quieter than before. Dorian stared into the fire, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Outside the window, the mist parted briefly, revealing the vast, ever-changing world below. For the first time in centuries, Dorian felt the stirrings of something he thought he¡¯d lost long ago: purpose. Chapter Two: The Weight of Many Lives The fire crackled softly in the hearth as Dorian Kael moved through the tower, gathering what few belongings he deemed necessary. The rest he left behind¡ªscrolls, trinkets, and relics from lives long gone. These possessions, once treasures, now felt like dead weight. They had meant something once, but to him, they were nothing more than reminders of the endless cycle he was cursed to endure. A leather satchel lay open on the table, half-filled with a simple change of clothes, a waterskin, and a knife. He paused, holding a battered amulet in his hands. Its surface was worn smooth, its intricate carvings faded with time. He remembered the blacksmith who had forged it¡ªhimself. The sound of the wind outside grew louder, as if urging him to hurry. But Dorian took his time. This wasn¡¯t just packing. It was leaving behind centuries of solitude, stepping out into a world that might no longer have a place for him. --- As he folded a cloak and laid it in the satchel, his thoughts drifted to the lives he had lived. Lives that felt as distant as the stars now. He had once been a king, his throne a gilded seat atop a crumbling kingdom. He remembered the weight of the crown, the endless parade of sycophants and advisors, and the blood on his hands from the wars he had waged. He had ruled with an iron fist, determined to leave a legacy. But the kingdom had fallen, like all things, and Dorian had walked away from the ashes, unscathed but hollow. Before that, he had risen even higher, an emperor commanding legions and territories that stretched beyond the horizon. The world had trembled beneath his rule, yet the loneliness had been unbearable. He remembered the nights spent staring at the stars, wondering if his existence had any meaning beyond conquest. And then there were the quieter lives. The ones where he had tried to find peace. He had been a pauper, living in the gutters of a sprawling city, surviving on scraps and the occasional kindness of strangers. In those days, he had seen the best and worst of humanity, often in the same breath.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. He had been a blacksmith, forging weapons and tools with calloused hands. For decades, he had found solace in the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal, creating things of beauty and purpose. Until someone had recognized him, and the past had come rushing back like a tidal wave. He had been a thief, prowling the shadows of bustling markets, stealing to survive¡ªor simply to test his skill. He remembered the thrill of the chase, the danger, and the fleeting satisfaction of outwitting his pursuers. As a farmer, he had tilled the earth, planting seeds and harvesting crops with a quiet determination. That life had been simple, almost idyllic. But it hadn¡¯t lasted. The farm had been destroyed in a war he hadn¡¯t seen coming, and he had moved on, as always. There was the life of a guard, standing watch over the gates of a city he barely cared about. That had been a punishment, he supposed¡ªchoosing to live among people yet keeping himself apart. He had served well, but the anonymity hadn¡¯t dulled the memories of the blood on his hands. And so many others. He had been a scholar, a merchant, a mercenary, a priest. He had tried every path, seeking meaning, redemption, or simply distraction. Yet every life ended the same: with him walking away, unchanged, while the world moved on without him. --- Dorian placed the amulet in the satchel and closed it with a sharp tug of the straps. He picked up a sword next, its hilt wrapped in worn leather. It wasn¡¯t his original weapon¡ªhe had lost that centuries ago¡ªbut it would suffice. The weight of it in his hand was familiar, almost comforting. He glanced around the room one last time. The tower had been his sanctuary for centuries, but it was a prison, too. Every stone seemed to echo with the voices of his past. The ghosts of his victims, the friends he had outlived, the lovers he had lost¡ªthey all lingered here. Steeling himself, Dorian slung the satchel over his shoulder and walked to the heavy wooden door. He hesitated, his hand resting on the iron handle. ¡°What role will I play this time?¡± he murmured to himself. Would he be a protector or a destroyer? A builder or a wanderer? After so many lives, so many masks, the answer seemed impossible to grasp. The wind howled outside, carrying the scents of the world beyond¡ªwoodsmoke, distant rain, and the faint hint of spring. It was a world on the brink of change, just as Death had said. Dorian pushed the door open, stepping into the cold, misty air. The path ahead was uncertain, but he knew one thing: staying here, in this tower, was no longer an option. As he began the long descent down the mountain, he felt the weight of countless lives pressing against his back. But for the first time in centuries, he also felt the stirrings of something else: the faintest glimmer of hope. Chapter Three: The Road to the Capital The air was brisk, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as Dorian Kael treaded down the overgrown path. The mountain had long since faded into the mist behind him, and before him stretched rolling hills that gave way to forests. Somewhere far ahead lay the capital¡ªshimmering with its spires of glass and steel, a city teetering between the old world of magic and the new age of machines. Dorian walked with purpose, his boots crunching against the gravel. His sword hung at his side, swaying with each step, its familiar weight both a comfort and a reminder of the dangers that still lurked in the wilds. The satchel on his back carried only the bare essentials, but it felt lighter than the burden of his past. The first sign of trouble came as he approached the edge of a dense forest. The faint rustling of leaves overhead seemed almost too rhythmic, too intentional. Dorian¡¯s hand instinctively fell to the hilt of his sword. He paused, his sharp gray eyes scanning the trees. A low growl broke the silence. From the shadows emerged a creature unlike anything the natural world should have birthed¡ªa skeletal wolf, its decaying flesh clinging to sharp, exposed ribs, and its glowing, red eyes locked on him. Behind it, two more emerged, their movements unnervingly silent. Dorian exhaled, drawing his sword in one smooth motion. ¡°You couldn¡¯t wait until I reached the road?¡± he muttered. The first wolf lunged, its jaws snapping inches from his face. Dorian sidestepped, his blade flashing in a wide arc. The steel struck true, slicing through the creature¡¯s neck. The head tumbled to the ground, but the body didn¡¯t fall. Instead, it clawed at him, driven by whatever foul magic animated it. Dorian cursed and thrust his free hand forward, murmuring an incantation under his breath. A surge of blue flames erupted from his palm, enveloping the creature. It crumpled to ash, leaving the other two wolves circling cautiously. --- The second wolf pounced from his left. Dorian twisted, his blade catching its spine mid-air. The strike severed the creature cleanly, but even as it fell in two pieces, the fragments twitched, struggling to reform.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°No,¡± Dorian growled, slamming his boot down on the beast¡¯s skull. He pointed two fingers at its remains, releasing a crackling bolt of electricity that shattered its bones into harmless shards. The third wolf snarled, its glowing eyes narrowing as it skulked closer. It was larger than the others, its body more intact, with jagged antlers sprouting from its skull like some twisted mockery of a stag. The wolf feinted, darting left and right, testing his defenses. Dorian didn¡¯t wait for it to strike. He surged forward, his movements unnervingly fast for a man his size, and brought his sword down in a heavy, two-handed arc. The wolf dodged, but not entirely; the blade sheared through one of its legs. The creature howled in pain, its voice a ghastly mix of animal and human screams. Dorian didn¡¯t hesitate. He thrust his sword into the ground, freeing both hands to weave a more powerful spell. His words were sharp and guttural, ancient phrases that made the air around him hum with energy. A moment later, the earth beneath the wolf erupted into jagged spikes of stone, impaling the beast from all sides. It twitched once, then fell still, the light fading from its eyes. Dorian retrieved his sword and wiped the blade clean on the grass. ¡°Still got it,¡± he muttered, though his tone was more weary than triumphant. --- As the day wore on, the road grew quieter, the forest thinning into open plains. But peace was fleeting. Dorian¡¯s next challenge came at dusk, when he spotted a Chimera prowling near the ruins of an old watchtower. Its lion-like body was massive, with a serpentine tail coiling behind it and the head of a goat jutting grotesquely from its back. The beast turned to him, its eyes gleaming with feral intelligence. ¡°Of course,¡± Dorian sighed, drawing his sword once more. The Chimera roared, its lion head belching a jet of fire. Dorian rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the flames, and countered with a spell. A gust of wind howled from his outstretched hand, snuffing out the fire and staggering the beast. He charged, his blade flashing as he aimed for the lion¡¯s throat. The Chimera twisted, its goat head butting him with surprising force. The impact sent him stumbling back, his grip tightening on his sword. The serpent tail struck next, its fanged mouth darting toward his face. Dorian caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and pivoted, slicing upward. The blade severed the tail with a sickening crunch, and the creature howled in agony. The Chimera reared up on its hind legs, its claws slashing wildly. Dorian raised his free hand and unleashed a barrage of icy shards, each one embedding into the creature¡¯s hide. Frost spread across its body, slowing its movements. He saw his opening. With a battle-hardened roar, Dorian leapt forward, driving his sword into the lion¡¯s chest. The beast collapsed, its weight nearly pinning him, but Dorian rolled free just in time. The Chimera let out a final, pitiful growl before falling silent. --- By the time Dorian reached the edge of the capital¡¯s outskirts, the stars were already beginning to emerge in the darkening sky. His body ached from the day¡¯s battles, but his mind was sharper than it had been in centuries. The sight before him was staggering: the capital city of Illimara, a sprawling metropolis where the glow of magitech lamps illuminated towering spires and bustling streets. Airships drifted lazily overhead, and trains powered by both steam and magic roared through elevated tracks. Dorian adjusted his satchel and stepped forward, his heart heavy with apprehension. He had fought monsters today, but he knew the challenges awaiting him in the city would be far more insidious. For now, though, he allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction. The beasts had been a test, and he had passed. Whatever lay ahead, he was ready. Chapter Four: The Gates of Illimara Dorian approached the gates to Illimara, blending seamlessly into the line of travelers waiting to enter the city. Merchants with heavily laden wagons chattered nervously as guards inspected their goods, while a sleek, hovering carriage glided to a stop nearby. Its hum resonated with a distinct mixture of mana and machine, a symphony of magic and engineering. Fascinated, Dorian watched as the mana-infused crystals embedded in the carriage pulsed rhythmically, powering the intricate mechanisms. The design was a marvel, and he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how such a device had been constructed. He began calculating the framework in his mind, mentally disassembling the carriage¡¯s components and considering how he might build one himself. The line moved steadily, and soon it was his turn. Two guards, armed with sleek weapons that resembled rifles but pulsed faintly with mana, stepped forward. The taller of the two scrutinized him, his face impassive but alert. ¡°Name and reason for entering?¡± the guard asked, his tone brisk. ¡°Dorian Kael,¡± Dorian replied calmly. ¡°I¡¯m here to seek work. Heard the capital¡¯s thriving these days.¡± The guard¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°What kind of work?¡± ¡°A sellsword,¡± Dorian said simply, shrugging. ¡°Good with a blade. Figured a city like this would have plenty of need for one.¡± The second guard, shorter but stockier, motioned toward Dorian¡¯s sword. ¡°Weapons or contraband to declare?¡± Dorian unbuckled the blade and handed it over hilt-first. ¡°Just the sword.¡± The stocky guard grunted as he hefted it, his expression briefly betraying surprise at its weight. ¡°Heavy for a traveler.¡± He inspected the weapon, noting its craftsmanship. ¡°Old, too. Where¡¯d you get it?¡± ¡°Family heirloom,¡± Dorian said smoothly. The taller guard gestured toward a glowing archway near the gate. ¡°Step through the scanner.¡± Dorian complied, passing under the rune-etched device. A faint hum filled the air as the magic probed him, searching for hidden enchantments or forbidden items. For a moment, he wondered if it would detect the vast reservoir of magic coursing through him, but the machine gave no sign of alarm.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°He¡¯s clear,¡± the taller guard said. ¡°Welcome to Illimara, Dorian Kael. Follow the main road to the plaza if you¡¯re looking for work. Notice boards and hiring agents will be there.¡± Dorian retrieved his sword and nodded. ¡°Thanks.¡± As he passed through the gates, the sheer scale of the city unfolded before him. --- Illimara was a marvel of ingenuity, where magic and technology coexisted in perfect harmony. Mana-powered streetlights illuminated the bustling avenues, and elevated tracks carried humming magitech carriages that wove through the skyline. Merchants hawked enchanted trinkets, and street performers used minor spells to entertain passing crowds. Dorian¡¯s gaze lingered on the massive obelisk that dominated the central plaza. Its dark surface shimmered with runes that pulsed faintly, projecting information into the air above it. He approached, curiosity piqued, and placed a hand on the cool stone. Instantly, a surge of information flooded his mind¡ªpublic notices, city laws, even job postings. The magic interfaced directly with his thoughts, offering a glimpse into the city¡¯s vast network of resources. He withdrew his hand, both impressed and unsettled by the innovation. His musings were interrupted by a commotion nearby. A young woman was pleading with a crowd, her voice shaking with desperation. ¡°Please! My brother¡ªhe¡¯s trapped outside the southern gates! A pack of direboars¡ªhe won¡¯t survive!¡± The onlookers exchanged uneasy glances, but none stepped forward. Direboars were ferocious creatures, their tusks capable of shattering steel. Dorian sighed inwardly. He had promised himself he wouldn¡¯t draw attention¡ªnot yet. But the woman¡¯s panic stirred something within him, an echo of a time when he had failed to act. ¡°I¡¯ll help,¡± he said, stepping forward. The woman¡¯s eyes filled with relief. ¡°Thank you! Please, hurry!¡± --- The southern gates led to a dense forest, its towering trees casting long shadows over the narrow path. The woman led Dorian partway before stopping, pointing toward a distant clearing. ¡°He¡¯s there¡ªup in the trees!¡± Dorian nodded. ¡°Stay here.¡± Advancing silently, he soon spotted the boy. The teenager clung to a high branch, his face pale with fear as three direboars circled below. The beasts were enormous, their bristled hides glinting in the fading sunlight. One of the boars caught Dorian¡¯s scent and let out a guttural roar, charging toward him with terrifying speed. Dorian sidestepped at the last moment, his blade flashing as he slashed across the beast¡¯s flank. The wound was deep, but the creature barely faltered, its fury only growing. Dorian extended his free hand, conjuring a gust of wind that sent the boar crashing into a nearby tree. The other two charged simultaneously, their tusks aimed for his chest. Dorian leapt into the air, twisting gracefully as he unleashed a wave of fire from his outstretched hand. The flames engulfed one boar, its pained squeals echoing through the forest. The remaining beast hesitated, its eyes narrowing as it circled him warily. Dorian pressed his advantage, darting forward with inhuman speed. His blade struck true, piercing the creature¡¯s heart. The final boar lay dead, steam rising from its still form. Dorian turned his attention to the boy. ¡°You can come down now.¡± The teenager climbed down shakily, his gratitude evident despite his terror. Dorian led him back to his sister, who embraced him tightly. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, tears streaming down her face. Dorian nodded, already turning to leave. ¡°Be careful next time. The world¡¯s more dangerous than you think.¡± As he made his way back to the city, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this encounter was only the beginning. Illimara held secrets and challenges he had yet to uncover, and his journey was far from over.