The jade green glow emanating from her eyes danced in the tears welling beneath. All I ever wanted to do was make her proud, to make up for all the trouble I’ve been. It took me a minute to realize why Sonia was crying. I ain’t never been a smart man.

Maybe that’s why I took the blow of the curse. I wanted to be useful, just for once. Even if it was my last scene in this play, I wasn’t going to go out having it be said that I never broke even. Of course, she always told me she didn’t mind. They all did, all those wizards, warriors, and people of prophecy that lined the pages of ancient texts we’d dug up. They were the chosen, the fated eight, and I was the ninth. Well, I was technically the first to join Sonia Oakhearth back in Kirk’s Drift. The other seven came along the winding path that has been this wild journey of ours… Of theirs, really.

They were the ones saving people. I just watched and did all the small necessary jobs required to keep ‘em alive. “We need you to get this from the stables” or “Hey, Hoak, go get us rooms at the inn whilst we go and talk to the queen.” They didn’t mean harm by it, I just ain’t meant for that spotlight. That’s why I wasn’t in the prophecies. Well, that’s what I thought, until then.

Turns out, I was in the prophecy. I was the lich, the one that needed to die in order to save the world. Tough luck, huh?

So there I was, all undead-looking and wheezing through dusty lungs. None of the eight moved. They just looked at me all sad-like. I was confused because, hey, we’d won. We beat the fucking High Lord of Lowen in a brawl. All that needed to happen was finishing the curse that was now trapped in me, the curse that I was. I wanted to tell ‘em to stop hesitating and finish it before something or someone showed up, but my vocal cords were decayed. I couldn’t speak. A cough shot dead lung tissue onto the rubble at my side. I fell over onto my hands and knees as black sludge, what I reckon was my blood, poured from my mouth like the fountains in the queens court. Well, at least what Aya said they were like.

“No… Gods, this can’t be…”

I would have told Sonia that I should have stopped smoking like she asked. Bad jokes at worse times was my most important contribution to the team, but my last words were going to be whatever stupid shit I said before diving in front of that ritual dagger. She rushed over and knelt next to me. She was always the kind one, never let herself believe that things would end badly. Most of the time, thanks to the eight, they never did. And here I was, ruining the mood.

“There has to be some way to fix this! We can’t… I can’t… I…”

I placed my withered hand on her plated shoulder. Destiny did many things, but it never lied. I was done. I was going to die here or else we all were. Was I scared? Yes. I just didn’t want to think about it. I just needed her to get it over with before I got stuck in my head. I shook my head, bones creaking and muscles snapping. I didn’t want to die, but I certainly did not want to live like this. Sobs choked her words.

“Hoak, please… I can’t… I won’t. I’m not letting you go. We still need you.”

I don’t know how I replied to Sonia. I guess it was magic. I ain’t a damn lich expert. I always left shit like that to Solomon. But, when I did speak, I wasn’t… right. It wasn’t coming from me.

“No… you ain’t gonna need me… not anymore.”

She hugged me tight, which really must have sucked because I probably stank like, y’know, a corpse. She just kept saying “no” and “I can’t” as she wept into my shoulder. I could feel her tears dripping down into my exposed rib cage. Being a lich ain’t no fun. I pushed her back. She had sludge on her face, but channels of tears were cutting through it like the Rivers of Rowan. I miss that place, but I was a goner. My story was done. This was my lot in life, and I can’t argue with fate. I spoke again, ethereal and strange.

“You… you have to… please… I ain’t… I ain’t worth the world.”

“I owe you everything. I can’t let you go like this. Anything but this.”

What I said next was cruel. I didn’t mean it to be, but bad jokes at worse times were my best contributions.

“No… I still… owe you twelve gold…”

I broke her wagon in Kirk’s Drift. It’s a long story, but that’s how I ended up with my first of many debts to her. She remembered, clearly. She couldn’t even look at me after that. Sonia unsheathed Solace, her divine sword. She looked ready to finally get fate under way until she looked back. The sword tip fell to the ground between the two of us.

She was right. She couldn’t do it, but fate never said she would be the one to kill the Armageddon Lich.

I lifted the point of the sword and lunged into it. Sonia wasn’t quick enough, I caught her off guard. She and a few of the others screamed. They all rushed forward as I felt holy fire cleansing me away. That’s when it hit me. I did it. I killed the greatest evil in the world.

Sonia couldn’t stop screaming as my arms and legs turned to ash. Flashes of magic, prayers, and all kinds of things came out from the eight in a vain attempt to save my burning body.

I closed my eyes and slimed. I did it.

I had paid my debt, all twelve shiny gold pieces of it.