Chương 96: Chapter 059 The Thirteenth Death: Blood Mage Assassin, Arc 1, Epilogue. AKA: Chatty Death

AKA: Chatty Death Jack opened his eyes and found himself seated at the familiar table in his mother's kitchen. The smell of fresh bread lingered in the air, though the oven was cold and the room still. He looked around with wide eyes; his throat dry.

"I killed Greaves. I-I'm still alive?" he whispered. The memory of fighting Greaves and drowning flashed through his mind.

"No." The reply came in a deep, resonant voice from behind him.

"You are very much dead." Jack jerked to his feet with a scrape of chair legs across the tiled floor, his heart hammering in his chest. With instinct guiding him, he drew his dagger and spun around, ready for a fight. Standing in the doorway was an old man with long, dark hair. He wore a well-tailored suit not unlike the ones his father preferred; he leaned against the frame as though this were his own kitchen.

"Who are you? Where is my family?" Jack demanded, with his blade raised. His hand went to his breast pocket, and to his astonishment, he found several spell scrolls tucked inside. He blinked, realising that his left hand had returned.

"What, what is happening?" The old man chuckled.

"Every time, the same reaction. It never fails to amuse me." With a sharp snap of his fingers, the kitchen blurred, the walls melting away until Jack found himself standing in a grand chamber of the Royal Library, a place he had once considered his second home for over four years of his first life. Jack stumbled backwards until his shoulders thudded against a shelf crammed with dusty tomes and curled parchments. The air was thick with the scent of old leather and dry ink.

His grip on the dagger trembled, and when he raised it towards the stranger, his voice broke in panic.

"Wh-who are you?"

"You will not be needing that." Another snap, and the dagger vanished from his grip.

"Now, sit down. We have important matters to discuss." Jack's gaze darted about, searching in vain for his missing weapon.

"I still have my scrolls," he thought aloud.

"What the hell…"

"Sit." The old man lowered himself into a plush armchair and gestured towards its twin with a grin.

"You cannot hide your thoughts from me here, Jack. You are an open book." He gave a throaty laugh.

"Do you get it? Open book. You're a scribe." Jack clenched his jaw and refused to move.

"Who are you?" The man rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.

"Very well. You are never any fun. We shall do this your way, again." He mimicked Jack's voice with a theatrical whine.

"'Who are you? Where is my family?' Always the same." His expression sobered, and his tone dropped.

"You may call me Thanatos, God of Death. Now sit down." Jack's mouth fell open.

"Tartarus!"

"No," Thanatos replied.

"But if you would like to visit, I can certainly arrange it." He smirked and nodded towards the chair.

"Sit." Taking the hint, Jack lowered himself into the chair.

"He can't be Thanatos, look at him," he thought aloud.

"Damn it!" Thanatos chuckled.

"You have a decision to make, Jack. Although I already know your answer. You are remarkably predictable, particularly when Greaves is involved."

"I hate him," Jack blurted out his first thought, his fists clenching in anger.

"Yes, yes, we know." Thanatos waved a hand.

"He is a murdering bastard. You despise him. Blah, blah, blah…" Ignoring Jack's scowl, he leaned back.

"You've been here a dozen times. This, however, is the first occasion you reached a temple and bound a class, locking your new memories in place. So, congratulations are in order." He gave a slow, mocking clap.

"It only took thirteen attempts. What a hero." Jack opened his mouth, but Thanatos raised a hand to silence him.

"Don't bother. Yes, you have been here before. Yes, we have had this same conversation many times. No, you are not mad. Though if you continue bungling our plans, you may well drive the Fates to madness." His laughter echoed through the shelves.

"Listen carefully. You have a choice. You may accept your death and allow your soul to be judged by Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus… or you may wake upon your sixteenth birthday and try again."

"Try again!" Jack shouted.

"I have to save my family," he thought aloud. Thanatos shook his head with a sigh.

"Every time. Always the family. What is it with mortals and their endless attachments?" He gave Jack a curious look, then smirked.

"Before I send you back, let me see if I can pound some survival sense into that thick skull of yours. Do you know how many times you've died trying to knife Greaves within hours of awakening? Enough that we began to suspect temporal brain damage." He twirled a finger near his temple and snorted. Jack pressed his lips together, desperate not to think aloud.

"I love my family." The words slipped out regardless, and he groaned. Thanatos ignored him and snapped his fingers again. A leather-bound notepad appeared in his hand, along with a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles perched upon his nose.

"Let us review your many failures." He flipped through the pages with a rustle.

"Every time you spotted Greaves outside the Royal Library, you stalked him and attempted to stab him with your dagger. Five times, Jack. Five. What in Hades' name were you thinking? No! Don't answer. That was rhetorical."

"I hate him," Jack muttered automatically, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Thanatos gave an exasperated sigh.

"We had to intervene with visions to stop you from dying quite so early." He shook his head.

"Your willpower is too high. We haven't been able to successfully compel you once yet."

"Compel me? Visions?" Jack asked.

"You expect me to believe the Gods sent me visions?" The words escaped his lips before he could stop them. He groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Of course we did." Thanatos barked a laugh.

"Do you have the faintest idea how costly it is to send a vision to a mortal? No, you do not. You mortals never do." He sighed.

"And then you fought the visions and your own compulsions." Jack stared in annoyance.

"I didn't ask for this," he thought aloud. Thanatos shook his head and laughed.

"Mortals. So ungrateful for our benevolence."

"I didn't ask for any of this!" Jack yelled his thoughts in annoyance.

"Oh, did you not?" Thanatos tapped the notepad.

"So all those countless hours of prayer for vengeance against Greaves and justice for your family were someone else's? We hear every prayer, Jack. Nemesis took pity on you."

"But the Gods never answer?" The realisation struck like a hammer. Jack's breath caught.

"The Gods listened… You answered…" He bowed his head.

"You helped me. Thank you."

"Ah, there it is. Reverence, as dull as ever." Thanatos skimmed the notes again.

"You died seven times within Viscount Tides' compound. It became so ridiculous that we had to post a warning sign on the privy door, and you still ignored it. We wasted yet another vision keeping you from expiring in the most humiliating fashion." Jack's eyes moved to the notebook.

"I died in so many stupid ways," he muttered, then blanched.

"By the Gods, Greaves fed me to the orc warrior!? What the hell!" Thanatos threw back his head with a booming laugh.

"Yes, that one was spectacular. I have never seen Nemesis laugh so hard at a mortal's demise. You've really annoyed her, you know." Stolen story; please report. Jack frowned.

"I was eaten alive! Nemesis… she laughed?" He pressed a hand to his face, remembering the sign on the privy door and the vision.

"I died in a fucking toilet?"

"You certainly did," Thanatos replied with a smile.

"A memorable highlight." He chuckled as he held his fingers a hair's breadth apart.

"Nemesis was this close to choosing a new champion, but that's all in the past now." Jack's mind went blank as he tried to process what it all meant.

"The Fates took bets, you know. On how you'd die next." Thanatos leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Clotho had essence on 'bitten by a thousand spiders.' She was very disappointed when you made it past day five without incident. Lachesis thought you'd trip over your own feet and fall into an open grave. Atropos, bless her, believed in you. She bet on 'death by Greaves in an epic face-off of good versus evil.'" Jack's mouth worked soundlessly.

"The Fates… gamble on my deaths?"

"Among other things." Thanatos waved dismissively.

"You're not the first mortal we've found amusing, and you certainly won't be the last. Though I must say, the time you tried to escape Viscount Tides' compound by dressing as a serving girl was a personal highlight. That even softened Nemesis' heart. You were so cute in those knee-high socks." He burst into laughter. Jack recalled the strange weapons merchant from whom he acquired his dagger.

"Wait! How did I not see it? She was Nemesis!" His mouth dropped open.

"I-I spoke to Nemesis. How?"

"You mortals can't cope with our divinity. If we are too obvious, your minds reject our presence." Thanatos chuckled.

"Nemesis was never very good at subtle hints."

"I forgot?" Jack thought aloud.

"Not exactly," Thanatos continued, "Your mind remembers the interaction, but rejects the notion of divinity to protect your weak minds. We don't want mortals' brains randomly exploding, now do we?"

"Exploding?" Jack thought.

"Mere details. You don't have a brain here, so you should be fine." Thanatos snapped his fingers, and the spectacles and notepad vanished.

"Since you have chosen a class, albeit the wrong one, your new memories are secure. You shall recall everything except this meeting and that you met Nemesis and Demetre."

"By the Gods, I met Demetre," Jack thought aloud after recalling the old lady in the temple of Demetre.

"She was really nice, not like Nemesis," he muttered, then cursed as he realised he had spoken aloud again.

"Sorry." The God of Death chuckled.

"I need you to listen. Even if you forget, the words may cling to your thoughts despite your high willpower." He sighed.

"Your resistance to compulsion is both useful and infuriating. You don't even listen to your past selves."

"What?" Jack was confused. Thanatos leaned forward.

"Each time you died, you attempted to implant a few simple thoughts into your own mind to guide your actions." He sighed.

"You are about to try again. Perhaps the thirteenth time will be the lucky one." Jack shook his head.

"Lucky! I'm never lucky." Thanatos took on a serious expression.

"We need you to kill every blood mage in Lundun. Every last one. That is the only way to prevent what comes."

"I-I can't kill all of them." Jack went pale and shook his head.

"There has to be at least fifty of them!"

"Try closer to three hundred." Thanatos frowned.

"Most are nobles, but not all. Some awakened much as you did. And it was fortunate you did awaken, because you need that class. Honestly, how did you miss the hints we scattered before you?" Jack looked confused.

"What hints?" He shifted in his seat; the weight of the task felt like a lead weight pressing on his shoulders.

"I can't kill three hundred blood mages," he thought. The God continued, "Nemesis sold you the assassin's dagger. The assassin who hunted blood mages. Hunt. Blood. Mages. Obvious, was it not? How could you not see the hint that you should choose the blood mage class to hunt blood mages?" Another snap, and Jack's dagger reappeared at his side.

"Demeter herself gave you a blood-red rose. Blood rose, Jack. Blood! Do you know how much power that flower contains? And you keep it in a vase in your mother's kitchen." He shook his head in disgust.

"Mortals. You didn't even recognise the smell of roses that Demeter wafted in your face while you chose the wrong class." Jack rubbed the back of his neck.

"None of that was obvious," he said.

"And I wasn't listening to Nemesis. I thought it was a stupid merchant's lies to make a sale." His thoughts were spoken aloud again.

"Regardless," Thanatos continued, "you managed to unlock the class naturally, though not in any way we anticipated. None of us wagered essence on that outcome, which spared me a loss of power at least. I bet it would take another seven deaths to choose the class. You aren't the sharpest blade in your mother's kitchen." He chuckled. Jack met his gaze with anger in his eyes.

"Then why bother sending me back if you're so certain I'll fail?" Thanatos paused, studying him. For a moment, the humour drained from his face. Then he chuckled.

"Perhaps because even the Fates enjoy an underdog." Jack listened and tried not to think aloud.

"Don't think of anything aloud," he thought.

"Fuck!" The God laughed and straightened his jacket.

"When you wake." His voice became serious.

"You must choose Novice Poet as your next class. Those skills will be essential."

"Poet!" Jack blurted.

"Why…" He noticed the smirk on the God's face.

"What an arsehole," he thought aloud.

"Fuck!" He slapped his hands over his mouth. Thanatos roared with laughter.

"Your face." He wiped a tear from his eye.

"Novice Inquisitor is the best class to choose next; the class includes skills for dealing with blood mages."

"Which skills?" Jack asked. Errant thoughts slipped out.

"Why are my affinities so high? I'm a scribe."

"Your affinities are so high because you kept dying. Each time you came here, they increased." The God sighed.

"It's not normal for a mortal to encounter divinity and the void so many times." He shook his head.

"You aren't going to remember this conversation, so concentrate on what's important. The inquisitor skills will work well with your assassin skills and make you a much better assassin over the coming decades."

"Assassin? Decades!" Jack yelled.

"That means killing up close. I'm a coward," he thought aloud and grimaced at having no private thoughts.

"No! I'm a scribe, not a killer. I have to save my family!" Thanatos leaned forward.

"How many have you slain with that dagger? Around two dozen, that's how many. You are our assassin already, Jack. You simply refuse to see it. With the assassin class and training, you'll be culling blood mages like ripe wheat in autumn."

"No!" Jack insisted, his thoughts spilling out in protest.

"I'm a scribe." He groaned at not being capable of controlling his thoughts.

"I chose the class to deal with Greaves, not kill hundreds of blood mages! I'm a scribe!" The God of Death sighed.

"At least Demeter would have found my joke funny." He stood and stretched his body like he'd been sitting for hours.

"You will also protect the orphan girl. She is important to what comes. Guard her well."

"Zia?" Jack's eyes widened.

"Why is she important? Zia's just a kid… I have to keep safe; she's important." The intrusive thought slipped out like it was his own. Thanatos smirked.

"I cannot say. But remember… Inquisitor class. Kill blood mages. Protect the girl." He retrieved a dusty book from one of the library shelves.

"Chant it until it burns into that thick head of yours." He shrugged.

"It hasn't worked too well so far. Twelve times you've done this and the first time you get to choose a class, you take the wrong one." Jack's thoughts spilled out.

"I'm a scribe, not an assassin. Why is my compatibility for blood mage so high?" He tried to control them as Thanatos continued to read.

"He's such a dick. I should stab him in the gut and see how he likes it." He sighed.

"Sorry." After calming his rambling thoughts, Jack repeated under his breath, "Choose inquisitor, kill blood mages, protect Zia," until his head throbbed with the words and his doubts grew louder with each repetition. Over and over again, he chanted, with his thoughts of not wanting to be an assassin of the Gods getting in the way.

"That will suffice." Thanatos returned the book to the shelf.

"One final piece of advice. Cease angering Nemesis. You have never once visited her temple… She even had one of her believers lead you there, and you still walked away." He shook his head.

"We had to calm her down; she wanted to hit you with a lightning bolt!" Jack's mouth dropped open in shock.

"I heard thunder."

"I'm not exaggerating," Thanatos continued, enjoying Jack's expression far too much.

"She had it ready. We had to physically restrain her. She was chanting the incantation. The power was gathering. Your mother's herb garden was this close to becoming a smoking crater along with most of Lundun." The God of Death held his thumb and forefinger a hair's breadth apart.

"Hera had to promise her a royal wedding between two feuding kingdoms to calm her down. Nemesis does love a royal wedding; so much backstabbing." Jack's eyes were wide.

"You… The Gods… You argued over me?"

"Nemesis did." Thanatos shrugged.

"The rest of us were just trying to stop her from spontaneously generating a cataclysmic thunderstorm over your city. Do you have any idea how much paperwork that would have generated? Divine intervention is complicated. We have forms. Multiple forms. In triplicate. With cross-referencing. You mortals, are always so quick to pray and so slow to appreciate the administrative burden." The God chuckled while Jack's mouth opened wider in shock.

"She expects a visit this time. She has a bit of a mean streak for those who disappoint her, and she doesn't forgive easily." Thanatos smirked.

"Do try your best. It would be a shame for you to die early." Jack nodded, the words echoing in his mind like the toll of a bell at a funeral.

"Visit Nemesis, or she'll kill me! Wonderful." He repeated what he was trying to compel himself to remember again.

"Choose inquisitor, kill blood mages, protect Zia, visit Nemesis." His final thought was a startling realisation.

"Wait! It's your fault I kept getting killed. You told me to kill blood…" Thanatos, the God of Death, looked sheepish and clicked his fingers…