"It's been a while since I last saw a human. A thousand years, perhaps? Forgive me — the memory gets hazy." The Lich tilted its head, almost sheepish about it. "Please, lower your killing intent. I have no interest in fighting someone as blessed as you. I'd get blown to pieces before I even tried."

  I stared at it.

  The miasma around us had actually settled. Not gone — still thick and heavy in the distance — but here, immediately around the palace entrance, it had pulled back. Like it knew better than to crowd this particular stretch.

  "You can relax," the Lich continued. "The miasma doesn't spread in this section of the palace. It concentrates at the source, deeper inside. Out here, at least, we can talk."

  Talk.

  I didn't lower my guard completely, but I let the glow in my hand dim. "Fine. What do you want?"

  "Only for you to listen, if you'd be willing." It paused, as if expecting me to say no. When I didn't, it took that as permission.

  "This place was once part of the great Byzan Empire. Home to the Four Sages — scholars and mages of extraordinary renown, each one dedicated to the advancement of humanity. Under their guidance, the Empire flourished. Medicine, agriculture, architecture, the arts — all of it transformed. It was, by any measure, a golden age."

  It sounded like a history lecture. I crossed my arms and let it continue.

  "But the Sages cared too much. Or perhaps too recklessly. They believed that human suffering could be ended entirely — that if humanity could access a sufficient source of power and overcome the mental manifestations of their own pain, they would transcend their limitations." The Lich's bony fingers moved through the air as it spoke, almost like it was still rehearsing the memory. "One of them, Almodey, devised a plan. A portal. A connection to another realm where that power resided."

  "Let me guess," I said flatly. "It went badly."

  "Spectacularly." If a skeleton could look rueful, it managed it. "The other Sages discovered that the realm Almodey had connected to was one where humanity had already been driven insane by that same power. They tried to stop him. They were too late. The portal opened, and with it, a tear in the world."

  It went quiet for a moment.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  "Dark creatures poured through. The miasma followed. Anyone it touched — the madness spread to them within hours. The Empire fell before anyone understood what was happening. The remaining Sages used everything they had, called on the gods, and managed to contain the tear — seal it within the palace walls. They couldn't finish it alone. The hero of that age, Ashkart, gave his life to lock it completely."

  "And Almodey?"

  The Lich didn't answer immediately.

  "Driven mad by guilt," it said finally. "He couldn't leave. Wouldn't. He stayed to guard the seal, to ensure it held. And over centuries, he became..." It gestured at itself. "This. The No Life King. Bound to this place for as long as the seal needs guarding."

  I looked at it for a long moment.

  Oh.

  "You're Almodey."

  "...Yes."

  I'd suspected it two sentences before the admission but hearing it out loud was still something. The Sage who'd opened the portal. The one responsible for all of it — the fall of the empire, the miasma, the endless spawns, the entire reason this city was a ruin. Standing here, a skeleton in tattered robes, guarding the thing he'd broken for a thousand years.

  "My comrades didn't deserve their fate," Almodey said. His voice had dropped to something quieter. "Their souls are still bound here. Unable to rest. All I wanted was to end suffering. I only ever wanted that."

  "And instead you caused it," I said.

  Not cruelly. Just — accurately.

  He didn't flinch. "Yes."

  A beat of silence. I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

  "So what do you want from me? You're not about to ask me to fix this, are you."

  "I would give you everything I have if you did," he said immediately. "Anything. I had considered testing your strength first, to confirm you were worthy of the task, but—" He looked at me with those dim ember eyes. "You are clearly more than I anticipated."

  "Pass," I said. "I'm not here to collect ancient relics or clean up thousand-year-old messes. I just need to get through the palace."

  Something flickered in his expression. "...Through the palace."

  "Yes."

  "Not for the Seal."

  "I don't even know what your Seal looks like. I need to get to whatever is generating the rift." I watched his face. "The rift to another realm that's been sitting in your inner chambers this entire time. That's the source of the miasma, isn't it."

  He was quiet for a moment. "...You already knew."

  "I figured it out about three minutes into your history lesson, yes."

  Almodey made a sound that might have been a sigh. "The armory where the Seal is stored — it's locked. You'd need the mark to enter. Without it, the wards will activate. You'd burn." A pause. "Painfully."

  "Is the rift in the armory?"

  "No. The main hall. But the armory connects to it."

  I considered that. "How do I get the mark?"

  He raised a bony hand and pressed it to his chest. A faint light gathered there — old, tired-looking, but real — and then moved toward me.

  "You'd need mine," he said simply. "I've been waiting a long time for someone who could actually reach the source. If you're willing to go in — the mark is yours."

  I looked at the light sitting in his palm.

  Then at the palace doors behind him.

  "You're going to make this more complicated than it needs to be, aren't you."

  "Probably," Almodey admitted.

  "Fine." I reached out. "Give me the mark."