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“Liches are bitches who get stitches.” -Selen
Baden’s body had been reanimated for three days before he woke up.
To say he woke up was a misnomer- his body had been operating under the orders of the lich who raised him as he attempted to collect the shards of his mind. Three days in though, he had a name and at least that was a start.
Well, he had a name and a whole lot of rage.
The bastard who raised him was a Hypogean, one who insisted Baden call him Master and Baden did since his lips and tongue could make out no other sounds. This fueled the hot rage that bubbled in his chest, angry and oozing and
(A hand shot through his sternum, crushing bone and ripping into his pericardium)
Baden paced, running a hand through his hair as he tried to get a hold of his emotions. He couldn’t do this often- if his Master caught him doing this he’d do that obnoxious thing with his voice that made Baden’s mind turn into blood pudding. If that happened too often, Baden wasn’t sure if he’d remember his name anymore, let alone the things he should remember.
Which he was still working on, by the way. It was hard to remember what he had to remember, especially when he was given orders that his body got along really well with- tearing through flesh and invoking fear in the eyes of those he faced was frightfully easy to slip into. His arm was metal and sharp edges that were perfect for ripping hearts out, something Baden found himself doing more often than not. He drank his rage, intoxicated by the hot rush it gave his muscles and bones. Being angry was the closest thing Baden felt to being alive, which he understood on a fundamental level that he was not. When he wasn’t angry, Baden felt nothing but guilt and emptiness, like he was missing something. The eye in the middle of his chest sought something out and judging by its restless movements, it found nothing.
There were three things that were essential to his being.
One: His name was Baden of the house [redacted]
Two: He was a [redacted] to a beautiful [redacted] who he [redacted]
Three: His [redacted] was the strongest [redacted] in the country, and Baden [redacted]
Those redacted bits were getting really annoying, and Baden had an idea as to ways to clear them up. The trouble was, his brain did not get as clearer after spearing the bastard who decided to resurrect him to his chair as Baden had hoped.
In fact, if anything, killing his Master just made things worse. One moment Baden had full control of his limbs, and the next he... wasn’t.
“How impolite,” the lich rumbled using Baden’s mouth and Baden’s vocal chords. “I was saving you for a greater purpose, but this will have to do,”
Baden tried to move, to say something, to scream- all of it was drowned by that bastard lich’s sick laughter in his head.
“You’ve been misbehaving, my puppet,” the lich remarked, flexing Baden’s hands with interest. “It’s time to punish you,”
Baden’s legs began moving and his body slunk into the posture he used when hunting. Unease mixed with the rage and frustration boiling inside Baden’s skull as he struggled and fought against his bonds. This wasn’t fair! He didn’t want to be-
(all members of the Rayne house begin with the lowest ranking, Baden, you know this)
-dead, he hadn’t meant to fall! He was just trying-
(stay with me, stay with me Baden don’t you dare die)
-to remember who he was and what he wanted to do with himself-
(Papa look at the painting I did of you)
-and fill in the missing holes in his chest and get the fucking lich out of his head.
Baden’s body continued to move, and his mind continued to seethe, cutting himself on the erratically scattered shards of his memories.Each one he reached for hurt him, and for each wave of pain the lich controlling him grew stronger. He walked for hours and days, not stopping to eat or rest or drink. Baden didn’t need those things anymore.
Baden’s body stopped in a familiar place. As much as he didn’t want to recognize where he was, he did. Sights and smells and memories all began to flood his brain at a rate so overwhelming Baden did not realize he was walking to the sparring grounds until he was there, looming in the doorway, staring down his prey. His prey who turned upon seeing him, somehow managing to maintain grace and poise up until the point where he recognized who was stalking him and in an earth-shattering moment his eyes lit up with hope so potent Baden could taste it on the back of his tongue-
“Baden?” he asked in a voice that Baden remembered as well as his own, a voice that usually was firm and clipped but here was soft and breathy and filled with something so fragile and yet-
“Not quite,” Baden’s voice rumbled, his mouth twisting into a mockery of a smile that luckily his prey couldn’t see from behind the muzzle Baden’s master affixed to him. “May seeing this face give you peace as I escort you to the next world,”
Baden realized two things rather quickly.
The first was that the man standing before him was Thane, the strongest swordsman in the world, Baden’s friend and partner and confidant and lover.
The second was that this fucking lich was going to use Baden’s body to murder Thane.
Baden’s muscles coiled as he lunged for Thane, summoning a wickedly long and horribly hooked spear to attack. Thane parried with his sword, shock and betrayal and hurt obvious on his face for a moment before those emotions were smoothed away under the mask of professionalism. Thane was a fine swordsman who rarely let emotions get in the way of his work. Baden was still impressed at Thane’s ability to recover from the horrible sight before him- or perhaps it was the lich feeling impressed by it. Baden didn’t know anymore, and he hated it. Baden swung the blade attached to his other arm in a sharp arc that would have split open a slower opponent’s neck- Thane was out of the way, faster than a viper.
“How dare you use his face,” Thane’s voice shook a little, but anyone who knew him knew that it shook with rage. The other lightbringers in the sparring field had now backed away, too scared to interrupt but too enthralled to glance aside. Thane paused for a second, making eye contact with someone behind Baden’s body. “Someone, get me a necromancer. Quickly!”
“Who am I to waste such a valuable resource?” the lich demanded, tilting Baden’s head to the side and gesturing with his sword arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll use your corpse too. You can be together in undeath, as it should be,”
Disgust roiled in Baden’s stomach as his mouth taunted his lover and in a sense he was glad that Thane leapt for him, his sword a silver blur through the air. Baden tasted frustration and disappointment in the air, but no murderous intent. Disappointment was bitter, like when one comes across a contaminated stream after days of no water and must drink in order to survive. Frustration tasted hot, like laying red coals on one’s tongue. Rage and betrayal, each burning like acid eating away at the heart, followed frustration and disappointment as Thane and Baden battled. Baden’s body slid through dances and drills like he was made to fight-
(you were)
-but it was all muscle memory, from years spent sparring with this man, from years spent laying next to him under the same stars and holding each other’s hand-
(human emotions are disgusting)
-and never needing to say the words ‘I love you’ because the sentiment was so obvious in their actions that such declarations were simply superfluous-
“Father?”
Everything stopped.
Baden turned slowly and saw a woman mounted on an armored horse, blonde hair long and loose behind a winged helmet-
(her mother’s hair looked like that)
-and the widest blue eyes possible, locked onto Baden.
“Estrilda get out of here!” Thane barked at her, his voice echoing concern and fear.
Estrilda?
“How fortuitous,” Baden’s mouth said lowly-
When did she get so grown up? Baden remembered her at age five, begging to ride his warhorse and demonstrating a surprising amount of balance as he hefted her up on the mighty beast, leading her along in a gentle trot so she wouldn’t fall off, but now she was dismounting her horse and running for Baden like some kind of idiot. Baden could see the tears welling in her eyes and even through the lich made Baden’s hand shift his spear to impale Estrilda, his beautiful and talented daughter dodged it and tackled Baden with the strongest hug he’d felt in decades. Baden stiffened, overwhelmed by a warm sensation that encased his whole body.
“Father, you’re finally home,” Estrilda choked out into Baden’s chest, squeezing him tightly. Baden tried to open his mouth, tried to yell at her to run away from him, to stay away from him he was going to kill her and then Thane closed in, one arm curling around Baden’s waist in a terribly familiar move. Baden could feel the lich in him recoiling at the thick taste of love filling him- salted caramel, Baden decided, the kind that tasted best poured over freshly baked brownies that were shared on winter holidays during peacetime.
Baden’s knees buckled. His hand released his spear and it clattered to the ground. Estrilda and Thane held him close and the eye on Baden’s chest that had been searching and seeking something finally closed.
“Hey, heard there was a-oh,” Baden’s head shot up to look at the stranger who walked in- a tallish fellow with a wide hat, a blue hand and a coffin strapped to his back. The man pulled out a crossbow and leveled it at Baden, his eyes cold. “I get that you’ve got some kinda reunion going on here, but there’s a lich in that body,”
“A lich, huh,” Thane remarked from Baden’s left side, obviously keeping his voice neutral.
“I believe its phylactary is on its person,” a softer voice spoke up from behind the coffin guy- this was a young girl with long white hair and the glowing green eyes of a graveborn. “If you two could please hold him there, I will retrieve it,”
“I will embrace Baden as long as I can,” Thane remarked.
“I haven’t seen him since I was eight. Papa’s not going anywhere,” Estrilda added. The small graveborn made her way around Baden and he hated that he couldn’t see what she was doing (there was something familiar about her, something that tickled the back of his brain with concern). After a moment, he heard a triumphant gasp as she pulled a small pouch of bones out of Baden’s armor. Panic welled up in Baden’s body for a few seconds before the young graveborn child’s eyes glowed and the phylactary combusted in green flame. Baden inhaled for the first time of his own volition, and promptly passed out.
Baden woke up to the smell of his favorite tea. He sat up slowly in his bed and saw Thane sitting on a chair next to the bed, fast asleep with his chin tucked into his chest. Quietly, Baden reached out for the mug of tea to drink it but then paused- could he even enjoy anything anymore?
The door creaked softly and Baden jumped, scrambling for his spear. His spear appeared in his hands in a cloud of green-tinged black energy, but the person who stepped in the room was the young lady graveborn again, clutching a book to her chest.
“Do not be afraid,” she told him in a soft voice almost like a whisper. “You are among friends,”
“Am I?” Baden asked, frowning. “I tried to kill my own... my own...”
“You were possessed. It happens,” the girl shrugged, as if she was simply stating facts. “My name is Isabella, the Taken Soul. You?”
“I am Baden of the house Rayne,” Baden replied. “An Abomination,”
“If that is how you feel,” Isabella shrugged, snapping her fingers and summoning a stool to sit on. “Usually Auntie Shemira welcomes graveborn once they rise, but she’s busy with someone else right now so you have me. What are your questions?”
“Can I... drink tea?” Baden asked after a moment’s thought.
“Of course. Tea is delicious,” Isabella nodded. “In fact, you can eat whatever you want. My favorite treat is stick incense. Papa enjoys apple juice, and Silvina eats those bouncing rubber balls,”
“Ah,” Baden blinked at Isabella and instead of commenting on the strange assortment of foods this girl’s family ate, he picked up his tea and sipped it carefully. “Am I a danger to Thane? Or my daughter?”
“Your daughter?” Isabella blinked back at him, fixing him with wide green eyes. “Ah, you are a father. A good father, not one who would abandon his children,” (Baden had a feeling that statement was directed at someone, but had no idea who) “I like you.”
“Oh,” Baden took a sip of his tea- pine tea, his favorite. The taste filled him with warm memories that didn’t hurt this time but fit together like puzzle pieces along the backside of his soul. Thane stirred in the chair next to him and Baden realized for the first time- Thane was missing an arm.
“You’re awake...” Thane mumbled sleepily, reaching out and gently grabbing Baden’s wrist. Baden let him, shivering pleasantly at the pressure of Thane’s thumb running against his inner wrist.
“Finally,” Baden rumbled. “I’m sorry,”
“For what?” Thane asked.
“Trying to kill you,” Baden explained.
“That wasn’t you,” Thane said. “Right?”
“Right,” Baden agreed.
“Do you remember me?” Thane asked.
“I do,” Baden nodded. Thane met Baden’s eyes and laced his fingers through Baden’s, bringing their hands up to his lips and kissing the back of Baden’s knuckles. Baden’s eyes widened and even though his body was dead, his face heated up.
“And that is where I’m leaving. If you have other questions, please don’t hesitate to ask! Just uh, introduce yourself to Papa and Silvina beforehand, they get protective. Ta-ta!” Isabella excused herself, ducking out of the room. Thane stared at where she was sitting, and then looked back at Baden with a glance that was more than a little friendly.
“Good. Now I can welcome you back to the land of the living properly,” Thane informed Baden with that soft, self-satisfied grin he wore whenever he won a spar.
There were three things that were essential to his being.
One: His name was Baden of the house Rayne.
Two: He was a father to a beautiful daughter who he adored.
Three: His lover was the strongest swordsman in the country, and Baden loved him fiercely.