When I was young, I used to believe in a traditional afterlife. When you died, you’d go to a special place where everything was good and warm and fun, and you’d spend forever being there because you lived a good life and you deserved it. Even when I was shown that the afterlife wasn’t an afterlife at all but a cycle of life, death and reincarnation, I still clung on to that belief. My life was miserable. I wanted something nice to come out at the end of it.
Seriously, my life was horrible. I was born a slave, designed to serve the elite of my kind. I outlived almost all my kids. My first kid was born from a virgin birth, I didn’t even get a couple of seconds of pleasure from that. My second was a product of rape, and although I loved him dearly, he was taken away too soon. I never found out the father of my other five kids. Only one of them is still alive and technically, he really isn’t. Does it count when one of your kids is in fact an aspect of the fourth dimension?
I outlived all but one of my partners as well. They came and went faster than my kids did. I thought maybe I was some sort of avatar of death and that was why they kept on dying. Nope, turns out I was just unlucky. Or maybe it was because I was an avatar of anti-death.
You see, when I was alive, I was a necromancer. I know that a lot of you will shudder at the thought. “Oh look he’s a horrible monster who perverts life and twists death!”
No. It’s not like that. I used my abilities to extend life and slow down death. I spent decades being chased by evil, being slowly tainted by it. When I had the chance to free myself from that, I took it and became a healer. That’s what I did. Yes, it meant taking the lives of little forest creatures, but what does the death of a little birdy mean when I’m using it to restore the life of your loved one, who had been wasting away for months?
I may have cheated a little bit to extend my own lifespan, but I kinda had to. My last partner, he was much more long-lived than I was. We were bound together by tragedy. His life had been absolutely miserable as well. But we found each other and lived for many a happy year.
Then one day, I just… died in my sleep. Really, I couldn’t have asked for a better way to go. I died peacefully, in the arms of my loved one. Of course, it wasn’t great for him, but you know what I mean. Plus, he died of a broken heart about twenty minutes later.
So there I was, on the shores of Kinigi. I was always told that it was a river, and you wade into that refreshing water and drift off. It wasn’t like that for me. I was flapping around like a beached whale, surrounded by Defenders of the Cycle, the terrifying Veth.
These monsters all told me that I’d been a naughty little vok, what with my necromancy. But then they told me that Death herself was somewhat amused. They gave me a choice – either they tear me apart and I go down the river, or I become one of them.
I went for the latter. They grabbed me, put me in some sort of pod then left me.
Now I’m here, a little Veth. And it’s really not what I expected. I was thinking it would be something like a strict military or something like that. The second I clawed my way out of that pod, in my new, shining white body, I expected to be put through vigorous training and spend my days mercilessly patrolling Kinigi. I do do that occasionally. Not very often. Normally I go and do that for fun, I get invited out to go and kill Deitics and things like that.
But most of the time, I’m doing stuff for Kinisis herself. She is a very busy 6th dimensional being, and she needs me to keep track of things for her. I’m basically Death’s secretary.
To think, I died and became a Veth, only to end up with a desk job.
Still, better than being a Deitic, I guess.