"Surrender, Tyler!" a man in armor screamed.
His great sword clashed with another. Dark-haired, leather-armored, and rage written all over his face, Tyler gritted his teeth.
"Never!" Tyler roared, his face inches away from the armored man's. The swords pushed against each other, sparks flying.
Tyler was losing ground.
"It's over," the man in armor said.
He kicked Tyler in the stomach.
"Oof!"
Tyler rolled and crashed onto his throne. He was fading, not dying, but losing consciousness.
Smoke filled his lungs through his nostrils. He caught glimpses of his castle broken by cannon fire and barely holding together.
Blood of his soldiers and their corpses scattered around him.
It can't end this way. I won't let it, Tyler thought ragefully.
"Stay down please," the man in armor pleaded. His voice showed sincerity, maybe a little bit of regret.
He extended his arm.
"It's not too late for you. You can still come back to the light. Please, brother."
Tyler's eyes shot open blood red.
"Brother?" he croaked. He turned to the armored man to get a better look.
Blonde hair. Green eyes. A feminine face that betrayed the muscles hidden underneath.
Basically, a knight straight out of every children's fairy tale.
"You dare call me that!?"
Tyler rose, though he did so ruggedly. He was sure Anton had broken a few ribs, and he had long exhausted any healing potions.
"After everything you've done, you dare call me that word? F* you!"**
Tyler reached for his mouth as a pool of blood rushed out uncontrollably.
He chuckled defiantly, looking down at his bloodstained hand.
"Well, looks like I'm in worse shape than I thought."
His gaze returned to Anton, his brother.
"Lay down your weapon and I will take you in alive," Anton said.
"And then what, huh?" Tyler sneered. "I stay in a dungeon for the rest of my life? Or I get executed publicly for your glory?"
He smirked darkly.
"I see only one way out of this."
Tyler pointed his sword at Anton. No more words were needed.
"So be it, then," Anton said.
In a blur, Anton disappeared.
Tyler coughed up more blood. He fell knees first, then the rest of his body into a puddle of his own blood.
"Bastard," Tyler coughed, his eyes shifting to the man who had just cut him down. His sword lay by his side.
He didn't even have the decency to look at Tyler while he was dying.
"This is it, isn't it?"
Tyler closed his eyes. Maybe it would be better to accept his fate. He was tired, so tired.
"Are you truly giving up?" a deep voice whispered.
Tyler chuckled.
"Oh, that's just great. I'm starting to hallucinate. Well, I have lost a lot of blood. Better to ignore it."
"Coward," the voice mocked.
Tyler twitched an eye but paid no attention. He was going to be dead in a few moments anyway.
"Weakling."
Tyler ignored the voice again.
"Failure."
He could no longer take it.
"Screw you, asshole!" Tyler screamed.
The dark voice began to chuckle.
"Well, what else would you call yourself? You failed to protect your friends. Your family. Your lover betrayed you and slept with your enemy. And you failed to take your revenge."
The voice laughed louder.
Tyler bit his lip. Why was his subconscious mocking his failures? Couldn't he just die in peace?
Tyler tried to hold onto his rage as his life slipped away.
Tears rolled down his face.
The faces of those he lost those he swore to avenge flashed through his mind.
"I have to… I have to keep going. I promised them. I promised all of them."
But it was no use.
"Are you sure about that?" the dark voice asked.
"Of course I'm sure," Tyler said.
"Very well. I can make that happen."
Tyler scoffed, realizing how pathetic he was for having a conversation with his subconscious.
"I can grant your wish. I can give you back your life."
Something appeared in front of Tyler, something he could only describe as a translucent box with instructions.
Accept Deal From Lord Emris
Yes or No
Seconds counted down.
10… 9… 8…
Tyler contemplated. Maybe this was all in his mind a way to cope with his guilt.
But what if it wasn't?
"Yes!" Tyler screamed.
He heard a ding.
"Looks like you have some common sense after all," the voice said.
Tyler waited for something to happen. But nothing did.
The screen in front of him disappeared, and his sight faded into darkness.
He was dead.
Or so he thought.
Light shined through his closed eyelids, annoying, yet comforting.
He opened them.
"Where am I?" he wanted to say, but he knew exactly where he was. He just couldn't believe it.
"No… no, this is impossible."
He rose from his wooden bed, covered with fine silk sheets, and observed his surroundings.
It wasn't small, nor was it big.
He was in his childhood bedroom.
But that was impossible. It had been destroyed years ago.
"Just what's going on?"
In the midst of his confusion, Tyler saw a mirror.
He stepped back like he had seen a ghost.
"It's me."
Of course it was him. Not like he was expecting anything else, but he looked… younger.
In his teens younger.
"How's this possible?"
Tyler sniffed the air. He smelled something. Something wonderful.
He knew what it was.
Quickly, he rushed out of the room and downstairs.
"It couldn't be. Could it?" Tyler wondered.
Maybe this was just his life flashing before his eyes. But even if it was, he had to see her.
Tyler stopped.
He was frozen.
In the kitchen, he saw her.
A dark-haired woman who looked strikingly similar to Tyler was setting down breakfast.
Their eyes met.
She smiled at Tyler as she removed her oven mitt.
"Well, aren't you up ear-"
Tyler rushed forward and hugged her before she could finish.
"What's wrong with you, boy?" the woman asked.
Tyler didn't answer. He couldn't. The lump in his throat wouldn't let him.
"Mom…" Tyler said, his voice breaking, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face.
He hugged her tighter.
"Okay, now you're really starting to worry me."
'How? How is she alive?', Tyler thought.
Tyler heard the same ding he had heard when he died.
Opening his eyes, he saw the same translucent box, this time with a different set of instructions.
[Lord Emris has granted you a second chance at life.]
[Your villainous acts must continue.]
[Here are your objectives:]