After many decades and hundreds of battles, the Conqueror laid rest to his conquest. Victory was earned, albeit sour, and the quiet of his lands drove him to the cusp of madness.

  How peaceful, he thought. I almost forgot I could be calm… I never knew silence could be so loud.

  He celebrated in his castle, a grand spectacle built atop a small mountain, crafted by the finest builders who served him. The back wall of his throne room was exposed to nature, kept open by pillars of solid gold. He stood at this opening, arms resting behind him. He filled his lungs with air, his air, no one else’s. He stared at what was now his—a wide river between two hills, peasants cultivating crops and trading with each other in towns at either side of the steady stream.

  The Conqueror felt a deep longing inside his soul. Did he miss the thrill of battle? Were his castle walls too crooked? Perhaps he’d slain an enemy he was fond of and missed them. The truth? It was none, or maybe it was all. There is no answer, as not even the great Conqueror knew the reason for his own turmoil.

  All his enemies were dead. The fiercest ones were given a fate worse than death, their souls condemned to be trapped in trophy crystals, which decorated the Conqueror’s regal tunic. They wailed in agony, a symphony of success, music to his ears.

  He grew bored of his accomplishments already. He explored his silver throne with his fingers, rimming the eye sockets of his foe’s skulls adorning the armrests, and sat in it. Skeletons swung above in cages of iron. Legendary swords, axes, and bows were scattered on the walls as memories of the worthiest warriors. He kept some of their armour too, displaying them on stands. He had hoards of gold and jewels flowing like rivers through the room, and still, none of this was enough to leave him feeling satisfied.

  Let this torment finally end, he thought. This bargain is done. I will fulfil the rest and be done. I am tired.

  He clicked his fingers with a sharp whistle. A bed of red silk and soft wool cushions appeared at his command. Atop it, a succubus. Black hair, just like his. Purple-skinned. Eyes void of any colour, a hollow darkness. She reeked of potent magic and eggs… she laid on the sheets completely naked, tempting him closer with a finger.

  He scorned her. In the eyes of the gods above, this demon was his lawful wife. Not once had he bedded her, not once had he kissed her. In truth, he wished she was dead, and he had not a drop of love for the hellish fiend. Alas, a deal was deal, and he was too deep to back out of the bargain.

  “Come, my sweet conqueror,” she sang. “The nations bow to you and you alone. I bow to you. Come and give me my heir, great one. That is your final battle.”

  She unhinged her jaw and out rolled her exceptionally lengthy black tongue. It wrapped around each of his fingers, pulling his hand to her mouth and biting his thumb. He gazed into her deceivingly pretty black pupils, seeing the dull reflection of his own red eyes within them. He circled her even blacker lips with his free thumb, disgusted by the thought of laying with a creature like her.

  “This is the last thing you ask of me?” the Conqueror confirmed. “Just this, and then you will give me what I want?”

  “Of course,” she purred. “A demon and a god never back out on their bargains… ‘twas well struck.”

  “Fine then,” he sighed. “As per our deal, give me a son. That is the purpose for which you exist. One child, a boy. When we are done with this, I shall see what uses the two of you have for me.”

  The succubus said not a word.

  His garments vanished with another click of his fingers. He snuffed the candles to a smoke with demanding glances.

  “Come,” she said. “I am ready for you.”

  He climbed onto the bed, sighing. She kissed his chest, working her way to his neck, tickling his lower back with her arrow-tipped tail. The instinct never came for the Conqueror; he had no desire to lay with her. She took charge, changing position, mounting him. She ran her hands from hips to his neck, giving him loveless kisses.

  Sex is for heirs only, he thought. This would be quicker if I take the lead and get it done. I am so tired.

  He grabbed the sides of her waist. She was firm as a statue, stiff, unmoving. He’d never struggled to move something before, not once, and he was using all his might.

  What is this? What is she doing? Why can’t I move?

  She pressed her lips harder against his, digging her tongue into his throat and deeper down, exploring his stomach and intestines like a worm exploring a tight cave. He brought his teeth down on her the tongue, but it felt, like steel, and she continued the adventure of his insides. He was choking, suffocating, growing weaker, and there was nothing he could do or say to stop it.

  She pinned his hands down, pressing her bottom harder against his legs to stop his squirming.

  His power. His conquest. His countless wars. His waiting… all of it was pointless. When done, he didn’t even have the energy to understand what had happened. He laid in the bed, pale, sweating, wheezing in breaths as the succubus wiped her lips clean of spit and stole the red silk bedsheets, wrapping herself in them.

  “A bargain well struck,” she whispered. “I hold the end of your deal fulfilled. You shall get what you want, the way we decide it.”

  She crawled back up the bed, licking him from groin to lips in one long stroke. “You were amazing,” she whimpered in his ear. “We thank you for what you done… thank you for being so open and vulnerable with me.”

  The double-doors to his throne room swung open. Loud steps came closer. The Conqueror’s vision was blurry, foggy—he saw the silhouettes of two bodies lose their heads, hitting the floor with a clang, followed by a cackle from a lone figure.

  This man sauntered in. He was tall, wide, and that’s all he saw. He gave the succubus a long, lustful kiss. Death couldn’t process a single thought. He saw what he saw—a scarred eye, so deep that his eye was a cloudy white, a hint of purple from where the colour had refused to fade. The Conqueror saw no other features.

  “Well done,” the man said to the demon. “Just as planned.”

  The succubus knelt, swearing fealty to him.

  “This must feel terrible,” the scarred man said. “For you, not me. A conqueror dragged down at his highest. This is why you should never trust another when you’re as powerful as you are. You could have kept your gifts to yourself, breezed through immortality until men like me were dust… you could’ve found a way to get what you truly wanted through your own means. You are a fool.” He walked the length of the bed and seized the Conqueror by the throat. “A fool,” he repeated. “I could kill you right now. Cut off your head, put it on a spike… but you are useful. I curse you to sleep eternal, a husk of your own soul. Conscious, forever. Do you feel all your memories leaking? Your memory of her? Your memory of me? I am better than you. I am stronger than you. Each time I fuck your wife, I will remember this moment… we shall never meet again.

  The succubus waved goodbye. With a click from the scarred man’s fingers, he cackled, sealing the Conqueror in infinite walls of darkness for eternity.

  ------------------------------------------------------

  Eternity, it seemed, was not as endless as one once thought.

  A crack of light awakened the Conqueror, blinding him. His first instinct was to punch the stone sealing and shatter it the fragments. The blow left him with sore knuckles, and the hard bang brought a high-pitched yelp from whatever stony box he had been locked in.

  He squeezed his fingers through the gap. Two pale hands aided him in moving the slab to free him. He sat up, perplexed, staring at his apparent saviour. He didn’t know her, but she interested in him in a way he couldn’t quite describe. Silvery white hair, eyes of icy blue, a smile on her lips like she’d found the missing piece of a puzzle she’d been endlessly searching for.

  “You’re actually real,” she whispered. She brushed her filthy knuckles across his clean cheek. “So soft… just as mighty as the legends said you were. I found you. I knew I would. I knew I wasn’t an idiot for believing in you. I don’t have to be alone now.”

  “Get your filthy hands off me.” He pushed her away, clicking his fingers expectantly. “Where am I? This is not my castle, nor is it my dungeons… why are there corpses littered around me? Woman, are you deaf, or dumb? Tell me what spell you’ve casted on me, you damned witch, and I shall kill you to free myself from it.”

  “You have a nice voice,” she mumbled. “Calmer than I thought it would be… are you the man who grants wishes?”

  What remained of his memory gradually returned to him.

  That traitorous pink-nippled demon whore, he thought. She took my castle and my powers. I’ll rip my fist up that dirty hole between her legs and pull out her organs. “I do not have time to speak to a woman like you,” he hissed. “I must return to my castle at once.”

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  He clicked fingers, and again, nothing happened.

  This place is either dampening my powers, or that demon truly took everything from me. This woman is the only clue I have as to where I am… why is she staring at me like that?

  “Woman,” he grunted. “Are you a witch? I was certain I’d killed off all the powerful ones.” The memory of the scarred man flashed him suddenly. “Who—what? A scar with no name?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She was still stunned by him. “I’m just—I’m speechless. You’re real.”

  He was taller than she expected, wider than she thought. She didn’t think he would be completely naked, which flustered her into a light blush.

  “Well?” the Conqueror said impatiently. “Do you have what I need, or are you utterly useless? I need answers.”

  She ignored him completely. “Can I make my wish to marry you right here? What are the rules?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Marry me? What are you—where are my clothes? Why am I naked?” He climbed out of the tomb. “Stop looking at me. I am a conqueror; I am not to be stared at like I am some common thing.”

  She offered her own tattered clothes for him to wear. He scoffed at her in response. A lowly peasant, he thought. This couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

  “Keep the clothes, vermin.”

  “Is it—”

  “Do not speak to me woman. I am thinking. Explain to me why you are here. How did you find me? What is this ruin?”

  She made awkward and shy hand movements as she explained. “Well, I followed an owl here. Weird, I know, but it was really eager for me to follow it. They brought me to some pillar things, and there was a lot of traps. Some nearly took my head off—then I found your tomb! These bodies were here when I got here. I touched the stone, something glowed, something exploded. I don’t really know what happened, but this was only a few minutes ago.”

  Sounds like that succubus bitch stole my own method of sealing to imprison on me. Of course they took it. How would a peasant like this be able to bypass the magical spell placed on me? That is not likely at all.

  Much to her disappointment, the Conqueror ripped the smelly robes from one of the larger corpses and wore them himself. The copper vambraces and greaves he now wore had turned green.

  “I saved you,” she whispered. “Doesn’t that mean I get to make a wish? That’s what the legends say.”

  “A wish?” he scoffed. “Ah… I know what you speak of. You are lucky, stranger, I can feel within my soul that those traitors could not steal what I was born with naturally. You saved me from my sealing, so you may make one request. If it is in my power, you may have it, but know that I can only bestow upon you what is in my power to give… it doesn’t seem like I am capable of anything truly godly at this moment.”

  “Is there a limit to what I can ask?”

  “My gift will not allow me to give what I cannot, the limit is what I am capable of.”

  She wiped the sweat from her forehead. “I want to use my wish wisely… I need to know what I can wish for… I can’t just say ‘I wish for your soul to be bound to mind for all eternity and you must do everything that I say’, can I? That’s too much?”

  Apparently, his gifts deemed it not. The ruins glowed red and blue. A chain of crimson wrapped around the Conquerors neck, snapping to a collar of blue magic around the girl’s wrist. Both then disappeared.

  “Oh,” she whimpered. “I didn’t… I didn’t think that would—”

  This is not possible, he thought in despair. Why of all the wishes did my soul allow that one to go through? Complete control over me should be impossible… I must kill her quickly before she gives a command that renders me unable.

  She saw his growing temper and his scowl. He took a long stride towards her with his fists curled.

  “Stop!” she yelled. “I’m not your enemy!”

  His legs froze stiff as if weighted by heavy steel. He twisted his body, trying to turn. He was stuck, exhausted, sweating

  This is disgusting, he thought. Curse my gifts. This is horrid.

  “Release me,” he grunted. “This is humiliating.”

  “I’m sorry!” she squeaked. “Can I make a second wish to undo what I just did?”

  “No, you imbecile,” he snarled.

  “What if I—”

  “You cannot cheat my powers, wench. Release me, kneel at my feet, be honoured to die to right your wrongdoings.”

  “I worship you,” she whispered. “Actually, it’s not my fault that you have a flaw in your own power! I command you not to harm me in any way; I command you to love me.”

  The order not to harm her burned into his soul, but the latter did not. “I am not capable of love,” he growled. “And you cannot order me to change my feelings. That is not how souls work.”

  “I will make you able to love by showering you with it.”

  “You are a fool if you think that is how it works, vile wench.”

  “I order you to speak nice to me!”

  “Of… course,” he forced.

  She composed herself and paced around him, grabbing his face and blushing when she felt how large and dense his arms were.

  “You are mine to command?” she said as if getting a puppy. “I give a command and you do it? No questions? I order you to tell me if you are mine to command.”

  “I am yours to command,” he repeated forcefully. “Until the day you die,” he added with a smirk. “Mortal.”

  She took the comment and returned his smugness. “A mortal for now… what is your name?”

  That memory had also been stolen.

  “No name?” she said back to his silence. “My name is Snow. Just Snow. I will give you a name, one worthy of a husband!”

  “Is this a command?” he sighed.

  “I want to earn your trust,” she said. “It is not a command. No man should roam without a name.”

  If I’m going to be forced to take commands from this woman, I should play nicer. If I can get closer to her, perhaps I can earn trust, and cut her throat while she sleeps.

  “Very well, Snow. Do not name me stupidly.”

  “The tales said you had a scythe, is that true?”

  He had a memory of this. “Souleis,” he answered.

  “Black hair… red eyes… a scythe… I’ve got it! The perfect name for you is Death.”

  “Death?”

  “Death.”

  “This will suffice. I like this name.”

  She bit her lip and moaned, pushing her breasts against his chest and looking up at him with innocent eyes.

  “Now that a name has been given to you, Death.” Her hand slid down and stopped short of his groin. “I want to tell you what I wanted to wish for. I want to be your wife; I want you to fuck me, over and over, again and again. Fill me with your heirs so that our children can conquer the world.”

  Interesting, Death thought. An odd devotion for someone you’ve just met and don’t know.

  “I command you to do this,” she whispered.

  No order was sent to his soul. He didn’t understand what she was commanding him to do.

  “Are you under a lustful spell cast by a witch? Why are you like this?” he said. “I already told you. I cannot be commanded to feel. That is not how souls work.”

  “I just want love,” she sighed. “To be more than a peasant girl with no coin to her name. Are you a virgin?”

  Death was not often shocked. The sudden question made him squint at her. “You are very strange, Snow” he said. “I am not interested in you.”

  “Well, that’s just not nice. What if we do stuff doesn’t give an heir, huh? I can make you feel good in other ways.”

  “The concept of pleasure does not arouse me, nor do I find you a suitable host for my heir. You are powerless.”

  “I command you to tell me a path where I do become suitable,” she smirked. “You can do that, right?”

  “I would need to drain the powers of others and give some to you. You would need to be trained, skilled in combat, immortal.”

  “I can drain you in better ways.”

  “Snow, what part of 'pleasure does not arouse me' do you fail to understand?”

  “Fine, whatever… what you said, you can do all of that?”

  “Possibly,” he sighed. “But—”

  “Great!” she exclaimed. “Where do we start?”

  “Finding the succubus bitch that did this to me.”

  “Succubi have been extinct for three thousand years.”

  “That is impossible.”

  “Why so?”

  “She has a curse on her that can only be killed by my hand. One of my many gifts I was born with allows me to create certain soul contracts. I have a memory of me making one with her.”

  She stood silent in thought and pouted in annoyance before crossing her arms. “I command you to link your soul to me further. If I die, you die.”

  The order went to his soul. It was now certain… if she died, he would die, and his plan to kill her was thwarted before it began.

  “Are you completely insane!?” he shouted.

  “Nope!” she exclaimed. “I will earn your affection. I want your heart, Death. I order you to find a way to make me immortal and breed an empire of black-haired beauties with me. I may own your soul, but you own me too—I will do as you ask. Seduce. Kill. Be a Thief. I will do anything for you. If any man tries to touch me in a way that takes away the innocence I’ve saved for you, you shall kill them. When I find you a path to this succubus… all I want is a kiss and for you to tell me you are proud.”

  “This is all a command?”

  “It is.”

  Curse the gods, Death thought. I need to find a way to release myself from this… she is mortal, she will die eventually, I must find a way to make her immortal to ensure my own survival.

  “I could manage a kiss,” he grunted. “That is… acceptable.”

  “If you could manage more, we could marry here and now!” she offered. “C’mon… don’t you want a wife?”

  “No,” he grunted. “Release me from this order that has frozen both my legs, they ache. Take to me to whichever place you come from. I will start my search for the succubus and the scarred man there.”