The stars above us flickered faintly, cold and distant. A quiet wind passed through the trees, brushing against the makeshift tents where the elves slept, huddled close under thin blankets. The forest was silent now not because it was safe, but because even the monsters were resting.
Ashley was kneeling near the edge of camp, drawing divine protection marks into the soil. Each one glowed for a moment before fading into invisible barriers meant to ward off wild beasts and cursed spirits.
Then, as she stood up and dusted her hands, she walked over and looked at me with that curious, glowing stare.
"Hey, Vessel," she said softly, "I have a question."
I grunted. "Make it quick. I'm trying to get some sleep."
"How did you end up on the path of vengeful and regretful souls?" she asked. "Why did your soul refuse to rest?"
I looked away. "I don't know"
She waited.
I sighed. "I guess I was unhappy with all three lives I lived."
She sat beside me, quiet, listening.
"I was born in Lusaka, Zambia," I said. "Not in some fantasy world, not with a sword in my hand just a normal place. But life wasn't fair. My parents died when I was too young to even remember their faces. People would ask me what they looked like, and I couldn't answer. Just blank memories."
I paused.
"I tried to survive as a beggar a real one. Not like the others who were pretending. I didn't even have shoes, or a place to sleep. No relatives. Nothing. Just the streets."
Ashley's eyes softened. She didn't interrupt.
"But nobody believed me. The ones who had everything called me lazy. The ones pretending to be poor were praised for their 'hustle.' I was alone, starving, ignored. I was so depressed I didn't even notice the truck that ran me over."
She opened her mouth slightly, surprised.
"I died just like that. And I woke up in a strange white room."
Ashley frowned. "A white room? With a silver tree?"
I froze.
My blood went cold.
"How do you know that?"
She looked unsure. "That's my sister's domain. The goddess of order. Her space is white, clean, sterile. She picks her champions from lost souls."
I stood up slowly.
"No" I muttered. "That was your sister?"
Ashley looked alarmed. "What did she tell you?"
"That I'd be given a new life. That I could be a hero. That if I fought the Demon King, I could be free."
Ashley's voice dropped. "And in your second life?"
I stared at her. "A golden room. A throne made of flame. A man with wings told me I was a chosen soul. That if I helped his followers win a holy war, I could return to Earth."
She took a step back, hands to her lips.
"That was my brother"
She looked like she was going to vomit.
"I didn't know " she whispered. "I swear to the heavens, I didn't know they used you."
"Used?" I laughed bitterly. "They threw me in like a chess piece. I killed the Demon King. I led armies. I became a king. And when I tried to bring peace when I tried to stop the bloodshed they turned against me. Called me a threat. Executed me in the mountains like a stray dog."
Ashley didn't say a word.
She just stood there, glowing softly in the dark, her hands trembling.
"They promised me freedom," I said. "Both of them. Twice. And twice I died."
"I'm so sorry" she whispered. "I thought I was the first one to bring you here. I didn't know they"
"Of course you didn't," I snapped. "You're just like them. Another god chasing prayers."
Her face twisted in pain. "I'm not like them. I didn't lie to you."
"No," I said coldly, "but you would have, if it helped you reach your divine quota."
She bit her lip, lowering her eyes.
"I" she whispered, "I didn't want to be forgotten. That's all I ever feared."
"Well," I said, turning to walk away, "maybe you should've feared becoming like them instead."
Ashley didn't follow me that night.
She stayed by the tents, hands shaking, divine marks flickering in the dirt.
I don't know if she cried again.
But I do know one thing:
For the first time she didn't glow.