Hero Of Broken History

The morning crowd at the Adventurer's Guild was thicker than usual. Something about market day brought out every would-be hero looking to make quick coin before the merchants packed up. Avian stood at the contract board, studying the postings with the kind of focus that came from searching for something specific.

The parchments blurred together - rat exterminations, herb gathering, the usual Bronze-rank tedium. But there, marked with the guild's urgent seal, something different. His fingers traced the words, pulse quickening despite himself.

"Another ghoul sighting," he murmured, pulling the notice free to read properly. "Eastern district this time. Near the old tannery."

Beside him, Kai yawned, still fighting off the morning sluggishness. The inn's beds were too soft after years of training mats, and neither of them had been sleeping well. "Ghouls again? What is it with this city and undead? You'd think they'd invest in better cemetery security."

"Different location. Different pattern." Avian studied the details, mind already working through possibilities. Multiple sightings over three nights. Strange lights that moved with purpose. Locals complaining about missing pets - cats first, then dogs, now someone's prize rooster had vanished. Classic signs of necromantic activity, starting small and building power. "Could be connected to our friend from the other night."

"The death mancer who got away?" Kai's voice dropped, suddenly more awake. The morning crowd was loud enough to cover their conversation, but some topics deserved caution. "You think he's setting up shop again already?"

"Two days. He's had two days since the cemetery." Avian folded the contract, decision made. "That's enough time for someone who knows what they're doing. Someone who's been practicing for five centuries."

The weight of that sat between them. Five hundred years of experience, now turned toward some new purpose. And he'd seen Avian's soul, recognized the impossible.

"Only one way to find out," Avian said finally.

Kai's eyes suddenly widened, tracking something over Avian's shoulder. "Oh no. Please don't turn around."

"What?"

"Just... trust me. If we don't make eye contact, maybe he'll—"

"DESTINY HAS BROUGHT US TOGETHER ONCE MORE!"

Why did fate insist on assigning him a walking migraine?

Every head in the guild turned as Leontis burst through the doors, arms spread wide, cape billowing despite the complete absence of wind. Today's outfit defied color theory - purple vest, green shirt, golden cape, and was that glitter in his hair?

"The protagonist's keen senses detected his stalwart companions from across the city!" Leontis bounded toward them, weaving between annoyed adventurers with surprising grace. A party of Silver-ranks had to dodge aside, cursing as his cape nearly sent their breakfast flying. "Kai the Clever! Avian the Perpetually Tired! Our fated reunion is at hand!"

"We saw you yesterday," Avian said flatly, already exhausted by the sheer energy radiating from the bard. "At the bakery. You were buying those cream puffs. All of them. The baker's children were crying."

"That was merely a preview of today's destined encounter!" Leontis struck a pose that belonged on a statue nobody asked for. "But speaking of fate - observe!"

He produced a contract with a flourish that sent papers flying from nearby tables. His grin was triumphant as he held it high like a sacred relic.

Avian's stomach dropped as he recognized the guild seal, the location details, the exact same fucking ghoul investigation.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"The threads of narrative have woven us together once again!" Leontis beamed, somehow producing rose petals from nowhere to scatter around himself. Several adventurers sneezed. "When I saw this contract, I knew - KNEW with the certainty that moves mountains - that my supporting cast would be drawn to the same heroic calling!"

"It's not heroic," Kai said, though he was clearly fighting laughter at Avian's expression. "It's pest control with extra steps."

"Every great saga begins with humble tasks! Today ghouls, tomorrow dragons, next week probably some cosmic horror that makes us question the nature of reality itself!"

For just a second, his grin wavered. Just a second - a flicker of something darker behind the theatrical mask. Then it was back, bright as ever.

"I've already registered our party of three with Clara. She says hello, by the way. Also that you still owe her that interview about 'unusually mature combat techniques.'"

"You registered us?" Avian's eye twitched. "Without asking?"

"Heroes don't ask permission! They seize destiny by the throat and demand adventure!" Leontis paused, and his expression shifted to something almost sheepish. "Also, Clara said joint contracts get a fifteen percent bonus, and the protagonist has recently discovered that cosmic significance doesn't pay for room and board."

That was... actually practical. Annoyingly so.

"Fine," Avian ground out. "But we're doing this my way. No dramatic speeches during combat. No narrating while we're trying to be stealthy. And definitely no—"

"No promises!" Leontis spun on his heel, cape swirling. "The muse speaks when she will! Now come, my faithful companions! The eastern district awaits!"

He strode toward the exit, already humming something that sounded suspiciously like a musical number about friendship and ghouls.

"I'm going to murder him," Avian decided.

"No you're not," Kai grinned, gathering their gear. "You're curious about why he keeps showing up. Plus, he's actually good in a fight."

They found Leontis outside with meat skewers from a passing vendor.

"Provisions!" he announced. "A hero must maintain his strength! Would you like some? I bought extra because I knew you'd forget to eat breakfast again, Avian."

That was thoughtful. And accurate.

"Thanks," Avian managed, accepting a skewer.

"See? The protagonist provides!" Leontis beamed. "Now, while we walk, shall I regale you with the ballad I've been composing?"

"Please no."

"Too late! Verse one!"

The journey to the eastern district took an hour, filled with Leontis stopping at "narratively significant" landmarks. Each pause came with a full performance - fountain prophecies, alley flashbacks, interpretive dance at an ugly statue. By the time they reached the old tannery district, Avian had developed a persistent eye twitch.

The transition from living city to abandoned district was gradual, then sudden. Shops became less frequent, then boarded up, then empty shells. The crowds thinned until they walked alone through streets that felt forgotten by time and hope alike. Even the sunlight seemed weaker here, struggling through industrial haze that might have been pollution or something worse.

The smell hit first - old leather and chemicals that had soaked into the very stones. But underneath, seeping through like blood through bandages, something else. Something sweet-sick familiar that made his teeth ache and his mana channels cramp.

"Death magic," Avian said quietly, hand moving to Fargrim's hilt. The blade hummed recognition, remembering the taste from two nights ago. "Same signature as the cemetery. He's not even trying to hide it."

"Oh, excellent!" Leontis pulled out his lute, checking the tuning with practiced fingers. "The thick plottens! Our mysterious necromancer returns for round two!"

"How do you do that?" Kai asked, genuinely curious. "How do you say something insightful and idiotic in the same breath?"

Stolen novel; please report.

"Natural talent! Also, years of practice. You should hear my philosophical treatise on the nature of cheese."

They moved deeper into the district, following the death-stench like a trail of breadcrumbs made of corruption. The buildings here had given up on standing straight, leaning against each other like drunks sharing war stories. Some had collapsed entirely, creating rubble-strewn gaps where shadows gathered too thick for the time of day.

Avian found himself checking sightlines, noting escape routes, cataloging defensive positions. Old habits from old wars, when every street could become a killing field. This place had the same feel - too many corners, too many ambush points, too much wrong.

"There," he pointed to a warehouse that squatted like a toad made of brick and bad decisions. Three stories of industrial ugliness, windows boarded or broken, loading doors hanging open like mouths. "The concentration is strongest there. He's had two days to prepare. Whatever's in there, it won't be as simple as the cemetery."

"Then that's where our destiny awaits!" Leontis strode forward confidently, cape billowing. "Prepare yourselves for—"

A ghoul burst from a side alley, all teeth and hunger and poor timing. Not the shambling type from two nights ago - this one moved with purpose, intelligence flickering in dead eyes. Leontis yelped, stumbling backward as claws raked the air where his head had been.

Avian moved on instinct, Fargrim clearing its sheath in a draw that painted the alley wall with ichor. The ghoul dropped, bisected before it could recover for a second attack. But even dying, it smiled.

"Glorious teamwork!" Leontis gasped, hand over his heart. "The protagonist's tactical retreat created the perfect opening for—"

Two more ghouls emerged from the shadows. Then three more. Then enough that counting became less important than killing. All moving with that same terrible purpose, corralling them toward the warehouse.

"Formation!" Avian barked, all annoyance forgotten in the face of combat. "Kai, left flank! Leontis—"

"Already on it!" The bard's fingers danced across his lute strings, producing notes that made reality hiccup. Suddenly there were three of him, all running in different directions, all shouting different battle cries. One sang about justice, another about lunch, the third just screamed creatively.

The ghouls, despite their unnatural intelligence, split their attention between the illusions. It gave Kai the openings he needed, knives finding the soft spots between ribs with surgical precision. Avian carved through the confused creatures with brutal efficiency, Fargrim singing satisfaction with each kill.

But they kept coming. Too many, too coordinated. This wasn't random. This was herding.

"Behind you!" Leontis called out - the real one, not an illusion.

Avian spun to find a ghoul that had been smarter than its fellows, creeping along the wall to flank him. His sword came up, but the angle was bad, the ghoul too close—

Fuck it. No other adventurers around to see.

Lightning struck.

Lux materialized from her ring form in a burst of electric fury, jaws clamping down on the ghoul's throat. Thunder cracked as divine teeth met undead flesh. The ghoul didn't even have time to scream before it was ash on the wind.

"Good girl," Avian breathed.

Lux barked happily, tail wagging as electricity danced between her teeth. Then she noticed Leontis.

"SPIRIT WOLF!" The bard's eyes went wider than should be physically possible. "Oh, this changes everything! The narrative complexity! The symbolic resonance! Is she bonded to you? Can she talk? Does she like belly rubs?"

Lux tilted her head, studying this strange loud human. Her tail wagged harder as she seemed to reach a decision. Then she bounded over and tackled him to the ground, licking his face with enthusiasm that sparked.

"ACK! Divine kisses! I'm honored but also electrocuted!"

"Lux, no," Avian sighed. "We've talked about tackling people."

She looked back at him with perfect innocence, as if she hadn't just floored a grown man. Her tail wagged harder.

"I love her," Leontis wheezed from the ground. "She understands dramatic timing!"

Kai finished the last ghoul and surveyed the carnage. Bodies littered the alley, already beginning to decay with unnatural speed. "That was too easy. If this is the same death mancer, he's either gotten sloppy or—"

"Or these were just the greeting party," Avian finished. The coordinated attack, the herding behavior, the intelligence in dead eyes - all of it screamed trap. "He's had two days to prepare. That's not much for a normal mancer, but for someone with five centuries of experience? He could have an army in there by now."

"Only two days?" Leontis sat up, somehow managing to look thoughtful while covered in lightning-wolf drool. "That's remarkably fast work. Almost like he had preparations in place already. Hidden caches, perhaps? Or maybe..." His eyes lit up. "Time magic! Operating outside normal temporal constraints!"

"Or he's just really motivated," Kai suggested. "Getting your life's work destroyed tends to light a fire under people."

"Lux, scout ahead. Stay careful." Avian watched his companion pad toward the warehouse, nose to the ground. Lightning crackled in her wake, leaving the smell of ozone mixing with death magic.

They followed slowly, weapons ready. The warehouse doors hung open, darkness visible beyond. But it wasn't empty darkness. Things moved in there. Many things. And underneath the movement, a rhythm. Like breathing. Like something vast and patient waiting for its moment.

The death magic grew thicker with each step, coating his throat like oil. But there was something else. Something different from the cemetery. This wasn't just preserved death - this was death being shaped, molded, given purpose beyond simple animation.

"Well," Avian said quietly. "Shit."

"What manner of shit?" Leontis appeared at his elbow, lute at the ready. "Dramatic shit? Comedic shit? The kind of shit that requires a training montage to overcome?"

"The kind where our death mancer friend has been very, very busy." Avian drew Fargrim fully, the blade drinking in the deathlight with evident hunger. "And very smart. Get ready. This is going to be messy."

"The best chapters always are!" Leontis grinned, and for a moment, beneath the theatrical nonsense, Avian saw something sharper. Something that understood exactly what kind of danger they were walking into and was excited by it.

They entered together, stepping from dying daylight into darkness that had ambitions.

The warehouse interior was wrong in every way that mattered. What should have been empty space for storing goods had become a cathedral to perverted life. Corpses hung from chains like macabre chandeliers, twitching with not-quite-animation. Circles within circles covered the floor, painted in substances that glowed with sickly light. And at the center, a construct of bone and sinew that pulsed like a diseased heart.

"Two days," Kai breathed, voice hushed by the sheer scope of it. "He did all this in two days?"

"No." Leontis's voice was different. Quieter. The theatrical boom replaced by something hollow. "This is older. He just... activated it."

Avian turned to look at the bard, caught by the certainty in his tone. Leontis stood perfectly still, staring at the bone construct with an expression Avian had never seen on his face. Recognition. Old pain. The kind that carved grooves in your soul.

"You know this work," Avian said. Not a question.

"The Weeping Mother configuration." Leontis's fingers had gone white where they gripped his lute. "Seven corpses of women who died in childbirth, arranged to birth abominations instead of life. He always did favor the classics."

The temperature seemed to drop. Kai shifted nervously, knives ready for threats that might come from any direction. But Avian kept his focus on Leontis.

"You've been tracking him. This specific death mancer."

For a moment, the mask slipped entirely. No protagonist bravado, no theatrical gestures. Just a young man looking at old nightmares made fresh.

"The cemetery wasn't coincidence," Leontis admitted. "I've been following his trail for three years. Every time he surfaces, I'm always just a step behind. A day late. An hour." His laugh was bitter. "Sometimes minutes."

"Why didn't you go after him yourself? After the cemetery?"

The mask snapped back into place, but it fit differently now. Like armor donned in haste.

"Because I'm not strong enough!" Leontis declared, throwing his arms wide. "The protagonist knows his limits! But I also knew - KNEW with the certainty that moves the heavens - that another would rise to face this evil! The prophecy spoke of a grumpy swordsman with a lightning companion who would—"

"Stop." Avian's voice cut through the performance. "The truth. Not the story you tell yourself."

Leontis deflated slightly. When he spoke again, it was with that same hollow tone.

"I was eight. My village was... small. Happy. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone, where the biggest excitement was the harvest festival." His eyes never left the bone construct. "Then he came. Said he needed subjects for his research. Said it was for the greater good."

The construct pulsed, and something inside it stirred. Bone scraped against bone with a sound like fingernails on slate.

"He took my mother first. Then my sisters. Then..." Leontis's voice cracked. "Then he made me watch as he improved them. Made them better. More useful."

"Leontis—"

"Do you know what happens when you reanimate someone fresh? When they still remember who they were?" The bard's smile was terrible. "They recognize you. They call your name. They beg you to run even as their hands reach for your throat."

Kai made a soft sound of horror. Even Lux, normally irrepressible, pressed against Avian's leg with a low whine.

"So yes," Leontis continued, mask fully restored now, theatrical energy crackling around him like armor. "I knew he'd be here! The protagonist always knows where the next chapter leads! And I knew someone stronger would come, because that's how stories work. The lone hero can't defeat the demon. But the hero with companions? That's a different tale entirely!"

"You could have told us," Kai said quietly.

"And ruin the dramatic reveal?" Leontis spun, cape swirling. "Besides, you're here now. We're here. Together. Just as destiny intended!"

The construct's pulsing grew stronger. The corpse chandeliers began to sway, chains creaking with weight that shouldn't have been moving. Something was coming. Something was waking.

"He's watching," Avian said, drawing Fargrim fully. The blade hummed with anticipation, eager for what was to come. "Has been since we entered."

"Oh, undoubtedly!" Leontis strummed his lute, producing a chord that made the air sharp. "He does so enjoy an audience. Especially one that remembers his early work."

A voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. Cultured, amused, terribly familiar.

"Young Leontis! What a delightful surprise. Still playing at being important, I see."

"Still playing at being god, I see," Leontis shot back, though his hands trembled on the strings. "How's that working out? Found immortality yet, or just new ways to defile the dead?"

"Found something better." The death mancer's laugh was warm, genuinely delighted. "I found proof that death is merely a transition. Your friend there demonstrated it beautifully. Iteration through incarnation! The philosophical implications alone—"

"He's stalling," Avian interrupted. "Whatever that construct is building toward, he needs time."

"Perceptive! I do so appreciate clever test subjects. And Leontis, you brought him right to me. Still playing your part perfectly after all these years."

"I am NO ONE'S supporting character!" Leontis snarled, and for once the dramatics felt real. "I'm the protagonist of my own story, and this chapter? This chapter ends with your permanent demise!"

"Does it?" The death mancer's voice was rich with amusement. "How wonderful! Let's find out together, shall we?"

The construct erupted.