By Ryan Rahman

Once upon a time, there was a brave warrior named Avreb who hailed from the kingdom of Alcep. Just before summer arrived, a great monster came and laid waste to the countryside. Alcep’s soldiers were no match for it. Avreb, the kingdom’s greatest warrior, was dispatched to deal with the brute. He’d faced many a monster before, but never one like this. The creature named itself Tasmer and said nothing more. Tasmer was grotesque: a hideous thing that offended every sense. Its stench burned the eyes and nose. Its breath made the air reek of sewage, clinging to the tongue. Its screeches left ears ringing for hours afterward.

In the end, Avreb defeated it, breaking his sword in the process. Before it died of its wounds, Tasmer vowed revenge. Avreb didn’t respond; the battle left him exhausted. He rested, if only for a moment. He knew he’d soon be called to dispose of yet another monster. Tasmer’s blood clung to the shards of the blade and seeped into them. Avreb returned to Alcep with its head and was celebrated once again for his exploits.

But this time, he didn’t feel triumphant.

And the celebrations didn’t make him feel better.

Tasmer’s vow lingered in his mind. Avreb took the broken sword to the smith, Tamle, to have it reforged. “Something’s not right about this sword. It feels wrong. Possessed. Whatever you killed… its blood seems to have affected it.”

Tamle examined it further.

“Blood can sometimes bind to the blade that spills it. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a new sword?”

“You say this every time I come here,” Avreb replied. “Just fix it. The kingdom needs me. Besides, I can’t afford a new one. The king won’t buy me one either.”

Tamle obliged. “As you wish—coin is coin.” The sword was reforged to perfection, yet Tasmer’s essence remained embedded in the blade. In the weeks that followed, Avreb was sent to deal with fresh horrors on the roads, by the rivers, and wherever the kingdom’s enemies hid. He was given no time to rest. The weeks soon blurred into months.

Summer came and went.

Tasmer’s vow kept echoing in his skull, and he didn’t know how to stop it. Violent nightmares began to take him. He saw the faces of all his defeated foes in a great banquet hall. Their stomachs were slashed open. Their faces were drenched in their own blood. He cut them down over and over again, but even as they lay bleeding, they taunted him, telling him all would be revealed soon. The nightmares left him drained when he woke. His lover eventually left him, unable to bear his nightly screaming any longer.

Fed up, he went to see Aclore, a seer who lived in the mountains just outside of Alcep. She peered into her enchanted mirror and told him he wouldn’t die anytime soon. Avreb felt relieved, but it was short-lived; Aclore told him the future remained shrouded in smoke, and that her vision might not come to pass. She didn’t elaborate further, telling Avreb he’d have to pay more if he wanted to know more. He couldn’t, as he was low on coin; his family owed a great debt to the kingdom, which is why Avreb worked as Alcep’s chief slayer. Unsettled, he left and didn’t tell anyone of their encounter.

Over time, Avreb changed.

He became more unpredictable.

More bloodthirsty.

More violent.

He tried to tell the king how he felt, how he didn’t know what was happening to him. The king reminded him of his family’s debt and assured him it was temporary—his feelings and the attacks on the kingdom. Avreb, however, began to kill indiscriminately, slaughtering friend and foe alike. He couldn’t tell who was who anymore. When he snuck into the castle one night and threw the prince out of a window as he studied, the king finally declared Avreb mad. The king had refused to believe the rumors until royal blood was spilled.

Avreb fled Alcep. Riders went after him to bring him to justice. Even while running, he killed anyone he encountered with the sword, leaving countless bodies behind. One night, he took refuge in a cave in the forest near the main road to Alcep. He realized how beast-like he’d become as he tore into his food the same way a wolf devours its prey. As he wiped the blood from his mouth, the sword began to cackle loudly. Until now, it had only whispered in waking life and in dreams. It mocked him for going from beloved hero to detested villain. Tasmer claimed it had planned this all along, that it wanted to be defeated. In its previous form, it was too bloated and too sluggish; it wished to kill more quickly.

Avreb understood: when Tasmer’s blood spilled, the shards absorbed it.

As Tasmer reminded him of all the foul deeds he’d committed, Avreb wept with remorse. “Did you really think you were doing anything meaningful for the kingdom? You weren’t. You were just feeding me since the blade was made whole. Nothing more,” Tasmer said. It told him if he wished to redeem himself, all he needed to do was fall on the blade. Avreb tearfully emerged from the cave. He looked up at the night sky and asked the stars for forgiveness for all he’d done.

He stripped himself of his armor and fell upon the sword.

As the blade pierced his gut, he exhaled as if setting down a great weight. For a moment, there was silence. Almost peace, even. As Avreb took his last breath, however, Tasmer interfered and halted death from claiming him. It gloated that even though its revenge was complete, it would make Avreb’s life even worse just because it could, adding that it had ruined others similarly. Tasmer claimed Avreb didn’t deserve the sweet release of death, and that by falling on the blade, its essence had now penetrated him. Avreb, broken by this, remained quiet. It told him he no longer had a name or purpose except to do its bidding in silence and without question. Tasmer declared Avreb would henceforth be known only as Vessel—an instrument for causing death and destruction until it was satisfied.

He rose.

New armor began to form around him, sealing him shut, his face forever concealed behind the visor. The plates were darker than the ones he’d worn before. Vessel picked up the sword with both hands. The blade glowed in a sickly green color. Tasmer told Avreb anyone killed by the blade after it was reforged would be recalled from death to assist him. From the darkness, both men and monsters emerged and encircled Vessel, kneeling before him. As with Avreb, Tasmer clothed the undead horde in the gear they’d died with.

It commanded Vessel to lead them out of the forest and break the world. The undead slowly rose to their feet, marching to Alcep with him. When first light broke, the bells tolled. They rang as if warning Alcep of its impending doom. The breaking of the world began there.

And nobody lived happily ever after.

Nobody.