Chapter 5

It's been six days since we started 'playing' the Doom board. I have had my ups and downs, I failed one challenge, one where I had to defeat the champion without hurting him. Well, he was way too weak! I only pushed him and his ribs broke. What the fuck man.

Right now I am going to square 682. Currently, I have 6 dice, if I win this one I will have the 7 dice. By the way, the Seraphim is winning. Yeah. He's on 712 with 7 dice.

The moment I step the square the world seemed at a standstill. That hum, that smell... Closing my eyes in reverie. I could recognize it everywhere. I haven't heard or smelled it in thousands of years. As I opened my eyes I couldn't help but feel something break inside me. Jazmine flowers as far as the eye can see, separating the flowers was a dirt road. At the end of the road, was a dragon's blood tree, and on his branches sat a small house. My house. My old house.

"Ah..." Is that my voice? Am I talking? "Why do I sound..." Huh? Looking towards my hands and feet I see myself changed. Rather than change, reverted to how I was before. I am still me, but less. I do not feel the blessings of the gods, I do not feel the runic array empowering my body and soul. I do not feel my enchanted gear. Instead, I am wearing my old robes.

"Am I back?" I wonder. I don't know what I am feeling right now. Sadness? Anger? Willingness? Should I enter the house? Will he be there?

It was... About eight thousand years ago. Right here, where I learned what magic was. Right here where I pushed Gilgamesh to his death, right here when I burnt the first civilization to the ground. Not at the same time, of course, it took me years to destroy Sumeria. I am not proud of it.

I was punished, of course. The gods cursed me thrice. For every evil I did until that moment. First, I was cursed with immortality. Second, I was cursed to have my fate intertwined with my lover, no matter what, we would always love each other. Lastly, I was cursed with his early death, and the knowledge that he would reincarnate, but never be able to love me.

Hades told me once, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And scorn me they did. Am I still on the door? With a slight push, I opened the door.

"Oh, Na-" It was his voice! But before I could do anything, the world spun and I am now elsewhere. "No! Bring me back! Please!" Looking around, I slowly calm myself. Breathe. You're the Blighted One.

I am still not the present me. Still, looking at the dome holding the water back, I can see where I am. "Atlantis..." My whisper not traveling far. It was six hundred years later since the death of my lover that I found myself as the apprentice of Skadi, she brought me to Atlantis.

Atlanteans were nice people, all so innocent. It was easy to steal their technology and magic, they taught me everything I wanted and more. Skadi knew what I was doing, but she didn't care, she has done worse. With the years I came to like Atlanteans, so I taught them how to be distrusting of people, I thought I was doing something good, but it did not end well. They took too good to my teachings, the result was a civil war that destroyed Atlantis. They didn't even have warriors at first.

-smack- "Wake up, girl." A slap and Skadi's voice roused me from my thoughts, just as I turn around to see my first teacher, the world spun again and I find myself in Sparta. On Ares' coliseum. I had killed before, of course, I did. You don't survive to 10 in the old world without killing for survival. The average lifespan was 30-40, can you believe that? Those who reach 40 were believed to be elders.

It was on this coliseum, on Sparta, that I learned what it meant to battle. Oh, I was hundreds of years old by this point, experienced in everything the mortals of our time had. But the Spartans... They created true combat. Who taught me, is the one I know recognize as Leonidas' ancestor, Tarpides. As I took my spear and got into position, the world spun again.

Now, I was on a rainbow road, the Bifrost. It was on Asgard that I stopped sulking and accepted my fate. Where my vicious ambitions began, perhaps it was the greed or the sweet lies of Loki who pushed me. But I did try my best. At this age, I was started to be known as the Blighted One. In fact, I tried to actively avoid my born name. It's not that I took the easy road. Being called the Blighted One by deities slowly changed my essence. True names and all that.

It's just, that I don't think I wanted that name related to me, let him remember her, and not me.

As always, misfortune followed my steps. Or was made by myself without me noticing it. Even when I try to do good I end up destroying and bringing blight to the world. I stopped caring about that a long ago. It's not my fault. Not really, just my cursed existence.

One day, in Jotunheim I saw a little wolf pup, I thought it looked cute. It was cute. Soft fur, gems as eyes, and a beautiful voice. So I asked him to be my companion. It was the first time I ever said those words in many years. I was usually shunned but blessed. My existence had no sense at all. The whim of the gods. It always bites them back. Like my poor Fenrir. Tortured and mistreated, bound and tied. Growing and growing.

One day, he swallowed the moon. The next, he killed Odin. And I brought the ragnarök. Looking towards Asgard's beauty I sighed. On one hand, I stopped caring about the destruction I brought, on the other hand, it saddens me that such a beautiful place was destroyed.

"The price of your greed is your son and your daughter." I muttered as the world spun again.

THIS BELONGS TO YOU, BUT EVERYONE ELSE USES IT. WHAT IS IT?

All for a simple riddle? "My name. That's the answer, now take me away from here."

As the world spun again I find myself back on the board. Seven shiny dice floating in front of me. I don't have the strength to be angry, really. Hm? My immortality? Why do I have an immortal lipstick if I am already immortal? Well, my immortality is different from the one on the lipstick. With the lipstick as long as I have the make up I can regenerate, not instantly but quite fast. just using some of my stamina. With my cursed life, I can die, and revive again. But lesser. I can become whole again, but to do that I must fulfill a divine task.

-sigh- The angel is on the 757, bad luck. Apparently, he has to win against his equal. A large dome appeared surrounding the angel, obscuring him from my view. Damn it.

Three hours later, Ishmallah resurges from the dome looking straight at me. Seven dice floating in front of him. We both know we're about to finish the game.

Rolling my dice one by one. Let's hope luck it's on my side.

23.

27.

19.

21.

25.

25.

21.

Yes! Towards the 842! "I am gonna win my wingy foe! Hahaha!"

With how much I am riling him up, he's probably angry as hell. I wanna see him snapping.

The trials are getting worse and worse. They're not really trying to stop us anymore, but destroy our will. It is a curious tactic. besides, I do know the cube, have had him for a few thousand years already. Is it perhaps angry that I haven't played with him these last centuries? I mean, I did toss him that Englishman, what was his name? Francis something. It was an explorer. Well, who cares. Oh, huh. Did the square turn into a library? I can feel it thrives on hatred. Curious. "So, evil library, what now?"

READ ALL THE BOOKS INSIDE.

"..."

I swear I just heard a snort somewhere around here. Must be my imagination.