Lyssia

by David Hoffman

cradling it in her arms as she left the room. I could feel Lyssia’s hatred for the woman she held, how she despised having to now save the woman who had betrayed her family. Lyssia wanted to rip out the dagger and let the woman die, but fortunately she was in control now.

  Never in our years with minds linked had she made such a foolish error. I supposed I should have known better than to let her leave me, to indulge in the journeys that sometimes made the undead go mad. The master assassin doesn’t make mistakes – she never did – and a moral assassin does not take joy in torture or suffering. Unfortunately, I knew now that Lyssia was broken. Even if she returned to me, she would be a lesser assassin for what she did here. At best, her blade would be slow as her mind became consumed with her family, of the things she left undone. At worst, she would enjoy taking lives and inflicting unnecessary pain. In either case, my greatest assassin was now lost.

  She stopped when she got to the shores of the oasis, where the sand dunes met the water. The rises would be enough to make sure we weren’t spotted as she did the summoning. She placed the woman’s body under a desert palm, then went to the side of a dune to draw a glyph in a sand with her fingers. She spoke the ancient curse that bound me to this world, causing the rune to glow with a sickening green light.

  I felt myself being pulled from my throne, back into the living world. After I rose from the sands, I saw Lyssia through my eyes, and saw me, an emaciated green and glowing corpse, through hers. It was strange seeing myself after a hundred years, especially through the eyes of another.

  I went to the body that was waning on the sands. She wouldn’t have much longer without my help. My skeletal hand grasped the hilt of the dagger while the other pressed against the wound under the blade. I began to whisper a spell I hadn’t used in centuries, but one that was still vivid in my memory.

  Blood spewed from the wound as I lifted the dagger. My words caused my hand over the gash to glow with yellow light, light that began to disintegrate my necrotic skin and preserved muscle, all the way down to the bone. The light closed the wound and stopped the bleeding, but not without destroying my undead hand.

  “Master, your arm,” Lyssia said.

  It didn’t matter. I’d find a new one.

  The woman breathed deep once the light consumed me up to my forearm. Then, I ended my casting.

  “What’re you doing?” Lyssia asked. “She isn’t done.”

  True, and if left alone now, the internal bleeding would kill her.

  “I want to propose something to you,” I said.

  “Now?”

  “There is no other time. You said you wanted this woman to die, correct?”

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “Clearly, you did, otherwise you would not have stabbed her. You made a mistake.”

  Lyssia dropped to her knees and bowed before me. “Yes, yes I did, and I’m sorry.”

  I looked down at the woman who no longer held the stance of an assassin. “Which for you is a sign of defeat.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “You also enjoyed hurting this woman, and you wanted to kill her lover.”

  At that, Lyssia buried her head in her hands. “I know.” If only she could weep.

  “As an assassin, you’re of little use to me now since I can no longer trust you. You’re contracts with me are finished, whether you agree to my proposition or not. However, I submit that this woman could die this very night, if that is your wish.”

  Lyssia looked up at me, but knew it was better not to speak.

  “In her current state, so close to death, I can peel her soul from her body, and in place of her soul, I can put yours. You may live a new life, but only in her body, and only for a short time. The enchantments keeping you there will only last a decade or two, and there will be very little warning when the enchantments do break. It should give you enough time to see your family grow up, but not much longer. When death finally comes, it will be impossible to join the unlife again. With your body gone, your soul will have no choice but to join the nether. However the biggest question is if you would indeed kill this woman to have that.”

  Lyssia lowered her hands and stared at the woman lying on the ground before me. The link took me through the myriad of thoughts that whirled around her mind. She remembered the look in the woman’s eye when she had lunged with her dagger, and what she’d said, how Johan truly meant to her. Could that be cured by a brush with death, or was the woman set to repeat her actions again?

  Lyssia remembered the warmth of Arini’s forehead as she bent down to kiss her daughter, Jenna’s face, and finally, the way Johan looked while he was sleeping. She desired nothing more than to have them again, but to do so meant living as a woman she barely knew, and to suffer an untimely death once more.

  Then, she wondered what was left for her otherwise. Both of us knew she wouldn’t be an assassin, and neither of us knew if she would find a purpose again. She feared that unknown. She regretted her decision at first, then came to accept it, though she was never more unsure of herself.

  “I… I’ll take her place,” she said.

  “Understood.”

  And so, I conjured the powers of the nether, the manna of unlife, to wash over Lyssia. The aura of darkness forced her to the ground and ripped the soul from her undead body.

  I held her incorporeal form in my hand for a moment, then commanded the power of death to wash over the woman that lay before me and strip the soul from her body. I inserted Lyssia’s soul into the foreign body that tried to reject it, and forced them to integrate. My enchantments separated the soul of unlife and the body still yet alive, but which also held them together. While the pieces opposed each other like heat and cold, they both needed each other to continue their existence.

  Once the opposites stabilized, I sacrificed the rest of my arm to heal the woman’s body with Lyssia inside, bringing it back to life.

  Lyssia blinked for a moment before she closed her eyes and let out a scream. “God, it hurts.” She squirmed in the sand. “Why does it hurt?”

  “It means the enchantments work.”

  She panted as she tried to push herself off the ground. I gave her my remaining arm to help her up, but she refused. I supposed she’d rather stand on her own.

  “Thank, you, master,” she gasped as she found balance on trembling legs.

  “You should be able to return to town,” I said.

  She placed a hand on her chest and smiled despite the cuts across her arms and neck. “I’m breathing. I’m really breathing.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Master, I’m alive again. This is amazing.”

  “I’m sure. You should return to town soon, before any complications arise.”

  She looked at me for a moment, eyes glancing around my body. With the mind link gone, I could only wonder what she was thinking, or why she hesitated now.

  “Goodbye, Lyssia. Enjoy your remaining life,” I said.

  “Wait.” She reached for my hand. Her fingers touched mine, but I couldn’t feel them. “Thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate what you did for me. I promise I won’t take this for granted.” She let my hand go and climbed the dune. She looked back at me once she reached the top, smiled, then hobbled toward town.

  I returned to Lyssia’s old, undead body, lying in the sand beside the rune that had summoned me. I grasped her hand and pulled myself close. I whispered a spell, establishing a mind link between us.

  “So, what was your name?” I asked.

  “Melina,” she said.

  “Now do you understand the consequences of your actions?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  “Good,” I said, “now you can work on making things right.”

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