"I want to die."

It was Kyle's standard response to most questions now. The particular question he was answering this time was rather innocent: "Would you like more soup?" The farmer's wife offered him whatever she was making for the family, and only expressed more sympathy for him whenever he showed his contempt for life. His own life.

Life was good for everyone on this farm on the outskirts of Kara except for their guest, Kyle. The father, Jander, found Kyle lying face-down next to the lifestone when they came home from working the field yesterday. It had been a pleasant day to work the fields, with a brisk wind coming from the sea to the south to make the late summer sun a more pleasant burden to bear. Returning to find Kyle at the farm was not entirely a surprise. Kyle was not a new face - Jander had taught him to bind his soul to that same lifestone only six months earlier.

Jander and his wife Kina had taken up residence at this outlying farmhouse soon after meeting in the small town of Kara. Both did some exploration in their early days in the land of Dereth, but have since decided to settle down to a life more suited to having children. A life preparing for peaceful existence - a life with hope for the future of Dereth. For their old homeland of Ispar was no longer within reach, if the Archon of Asheron was to be believed.

Kyle appeared one day at the farmhouse. Jerdan and Kina were not accustomed to seeing new faces in Dereth, as the new arrivals were usually channeled to Holtburg and Yaraq by portal fields set up by the Arcanum. How Kyle came to be there was anyone's guess - he may have been portaled into the Linvak Mountains by a portal storm, or maybe he wandered there in confusion from Shuoshi. Kyle wandering through the dangerous mountains without getting killed was entirely believable, as Kyle sometimes exhibited an extraordinary amount of dumb luck. It was often said in town that Kyle would be an excellent Adventurer and addition to Queen Elyssa's army if he chose to be one.

But Kyle did not want adventure or luck. He wanted the one thing this land of Dereth could not give him.

"I just want to die."

Kyle said it slowly this time. Jerdan and his young son turned to look at their guest with concern. Jerdan looked at the expression on Kyle's face, searching for signs of his suspicion that Kyle hated and resented him. Kyle did not want to hurt anybody - he told Jerdan twice now that he did not blame him for teaching him to bind to the lifestone. But the implication was always there - if Jerdan had not taught Kyle how to bind, then Kyle could fade into oblivion. He could escape whatever he was running from. Jerdan's son quickly lost interest in this politics of adult gazes, and returned his interest to the crickets crawling into the farmhouse, eerily drawn to the Swamp Stone he was given by a visiting Adventurer. Jerdan had never noticed the relationship between crickets and swamp stones before - he made a mental note not to keep that toy in the house any longer.

Jerdan swallowed and gave his same reassuring statement, "Feel free to stay here as long as you like, Kyle. We want to help you." Kyle knew that. Jerdan still felt uneasy around Kyle. Everyone feels uneasy around Kyle. In a world where there is very little to fear any longer, there is still something unsettling and threatening about a person who no longer wants to live. As Healer Kana says, 'Nothing provokes fear as much as the mind we cannot understand, and learning Kyle's mind is not something I wish to pursue. It's not healthy.'

Kyle always returns to Jerdan's house because he is bound to the lifestone near their front door. Kyle will not bind to another lifestone - "I have bound myself to one too many already," Kyle would say. Kyle would find a way to die (for there are many in Dereth) and return to the Kara farmhouse, too weak to wander. He would be too listless and introverted to go out into the sun again and work to regain his life energy. He would sit on the bedroll in the downstairs room, dejectedly building up the energy to wander away. Sometimes Kyle would say where he had been, but most of the time he would not. Jerdan believed that Kyle would leave merely to give his family some peace. But none of them disliked Kyle - they only felt sorry for him.

"They can feel sorry for me from a distance," Kyle mumbled to himself, as he raised himself up off the floor and headed for the farmhouse door.

"Is that you Kyle?"

The archer called out from a hilltop. His was a face Kyle had seen before - a member of the Strife monarchy. Their mansion was in this area - many of them knew Kyle. There was a slight smirk on the archer's face - he believed Kyle's appearance would trigger good luck.

A hiss sounded from off the archer's left side - down the hill. The hiss came from a strangely colored creature on long spindly legs. The creature seemed to absorb some of the sunlight shining upon it. It was a grievver, bouncing across the foothill towards Kyle. Without looking at either the archer or the grievver, Kyle stood in place and allowed fate to occur.

A streak of frost and ice particles left the archer's taut bow and perched in the grievver's belly, between its back legs. The shadow creature turned to face its opponent and bounced forward, instantly moving at full speed. It stopped bouncing 30 feet short of the archer with five more shafts buried in its head and torso. It collapsed with a sigh.

"I don't want any help," slurred Kyle, not turning to look at the archer - his most recent savior. "I know Kyle. But we don't want you to die - you're good luck!" replied the archer as he kneeled over the corpse of the wandering grievver. "Hot damned!" he exclaimed, "The acid duct is undamaged! You really are good luck, Kyle."

Kyle fidgeted nervously as the archer carefully harvested a few precious drops of venom from the intact acid gland and placed them in a crystal vial.

"So did you get to request help from Asheron?"

"Shoyanen asked Asheron for me last time he visited the court of the Queen. He said no. Shoyanen thinks that Asheron is trying very hard to regain the trust of Isparians, and doesn't want the controversy of helping one of us to unbind from a lifestone . . ." Kyle replied, trailing off at the end. It weakened him to even speak long enough to answer the archer's question. He sank to the ground, and sat with his back to a South Osteth Cedar. A breeze picked up suddenly and rustled leaves far overhead.

"What of Numhidira, and the strange research? The human husks . . ."

"Whatever she learned, she will not share her knowledge." Kyle's answers were practiced, and often repeated. Few had tried to answer, for themselves, the question "What if I WANT to die?" Most people asked him the same questions, and thought along the same lines as he had. Kyle had been trying to die for a long time now - and found it much more difficult than anyone would have thought. Kyle died many times, but he did not wish to come back.

Kyle sat in the sun and his thoughts turned inward. He could not escape thought - could not find oblivion. He would sleep away half the day, but then wake and be forced to think. An eternity of thought. A prison of thought. Threads of despair and hopelessness that would never end. Despair at endless life without his wife and son in Ispar, whom he would never see again - and he did know if they were alive or dead. He only knew that one day they would die, and he might not.

Kyle did not notice the archer continue his hunt, heading West.

He did not know how much time had passed. Kyle struggled up the rocky terrain, somehow avoiding the attention of a group of Monouga's pelting each other with rocks for sport. He was weaker even than when he left Jerdan's home, for he had not taken the time to find anything to eat. The sun had begun to set, though the air remained warm. Because Kyle lived in a constant state of 'vitae' or lost life energy, he was very sensitive to heat and cold, and stopped moving when the temperature dropped too much. He doubted he would make it farther than the top of this rise today.

Not that he measured progress, time, or days - he wasn't headed anywhere.

Kyle staggered a few more steps, then sagged against a tree. He did not sigh or make a sound. His head lifted up briefly, and he saw a figure standing at the top of the hill.

The man stood staring at him - a dark outline against the setting sun. A dark-skinned Gharu'ndim man in black armor. He wore no helm on his hairless head. His eyes were the only spot of color - a silky brown color, fixed and unmoving.

"You are Kyle."

Kyle paused for a moment. "Yes I am. How do you know me, stranger?"

"The other archmages speak of you sometimes, Kyle. You match their description."

Wrapping an arm around the tree, Kyle decided he would not move any farther until he knew what this stranger wanted. "And are you going to try to help me also, mage?"

"I want to help you Kyle. I want to help release your soul."

Others had told him this before.

Some were actual Arcanum members who thought they had ideas on how to unbind a soul from a lifestone. They were eager for a research subject - and Kyle was the only person who fit the description. Some would toy with him, for some Isparians enjoyed tormenting others. Some thought they could talk Kyle out of his depression, and promised him death in order to get him to open up. Some meant well, some did not. Kyle was openly skeptical now when someone claimed to want to help him, but he really did seek death. So he listened.

"Come with me, Kyle. I have an elixir that will release your soul."

The stranger raised his magic focus - a magical likeness of the world of Dereth. He mumbled a few arcane words and opened a magic portal before him. The stranger walked through the portal.
Kyle followed him.

They both stood at the foot of a volcanic mountain. Faint rumblings could be heard from below and behind them. Both Kyle and the mage looked instinctively at the ground beneath them. They stood upon black carbon deposits and obsidian. The air was hot and dry, and what they at first took for silence was a faint hiss of superheated air escaping from a fissure in the black rock.

"Wait here a moment, Kyle."

Kyle did as he was told. He stayed on his feet, suddenly feeling stronger and more energetic from the heat around him. As if in response to his returning vitality, the dull ache of hunger suddenly issued from his stomach.

Looking around some more, Kyle discovered that the setting sun was not visible. A thick, natural cloud layer enveloped the sky in his field of view, probably caused by escaping volcanic gasses. As his eyes adjusted to the dark of cloud cover and approaching nightfall, he could make out the cave entrance in the rock fissure ahead of him into which the mage disappeared. It was pitch black, and Kyle could not tell what the mage had used for a light source in the cave.

As Kyle breathed in more of the hot air, his hunger turned to nausea. He sank to his knees as his stomach turned inside out, reacting to the sulfur-tinted atmosphere. His new-found energy was quickly gone, and replaced with a confusion about where he was and why he came here in the first place. The passage of time, measured first by the wispy movement of smoke from rock fissures, soon became a blur to him.

Some time later a dark cloud coalesced into the face of the strange mage, looking down upon him in pity. "I am sorry, Kyle - that took me longer than I thought it would." He produced a mahogany goblet, filled with liquid. The mage held it before him. When he realized that Kyle was too dazed to get up, the mage knelt beside Kyle with the goblet.

Kyle regained some of his bearing and realized what was happening. It was now very dark, with only a dull orange glow coming from a distant mountaintop. He still did not understand how this dark stranger could make his way around in this terrain with so little light. He worked his way into a sitting position, and his left hand came up to make contact with the goblet placed before him.

"This will . . ."

". . . release your soul, Kyle. It will end your suffering."

The mage looked upon Kyle's shadowed features, thinking of the man who made other Isparians aware of the magical waters of Mount Lethe: Celcynd. The haunted mage of Holtburg. Celcynd first came across the ancient Empyrean lore that revealed the fabled powers of Mount Lethe. The waters of this volcanic mountain, in deep underground pools, was said to make the drinker forget his earthly pain. Something Kyle very desperately needed. Something Celcynd sought, but could not bring himself to drink.

The mage paused before feeding the waters to this lost soul. It was a gross act of hubris to make this decision for another - the mage knew this well. To withhold the truth about the waters of Lethe from Kyle was to play at being a deity, like the ones worshipped long ago on Ispar. It was to meddle in the lives of others, and to appoint yourself a 'Lord of the Sky', as the word 'Empyrean' translates in their own language. To take control of the life of others was not the way of Ispar - at least not the proud Gharu'ndim people.

When in Dereth, however, do as the Empyreans do.

Slowly the goblet made it's way to Kyle's lips. Time lost meaning for both Kyle and the mage, who both watched the goblet with a detached sense of the gravity of what was about to occur. Neither knew what would happen, as both of them guided the goblet across several long inches of space. Kyle touched the goblet to his lower lip, drew a breath, and drank the elixir.

Then Kyle forgot.

Where he came from was forgotten. Why he was here was forgotten. Who he left behind was forgotten.

"Do you want to die, Kyle?"

"I . . . no." Only one memory was triggered from the mage's question: my name is Kyle.

Another voice sounded behind them, "You are a fool, Tetraheathen."

The mage stood up and wheeled towards the voice that spoke his name. The mahogany goblet crashed to the ground, spilling the Mount Lethe water on the dry obsidian surface. Though Isparians had little to fear from one another, Tetraheathen raised his magic focus, preparing war magic to defend himself.

The figure took a step forward and Tetraheathen realized that it was not another Isparian that addressed him; it was the Empyrean mage Asheron.

Isparian and Empyrean faced each other silently. Tetraheathen was incredulous at the sudden appearance of the man who called his race to this land. Why would he come here, and why would he address Tetraheathen directly?

Of course, he knew the answer.

"I am acting in your absence, Asheron. I am taking away his pain" stated Tetraheathen, finally finding his voice.

"You have taken nothing, Isparian."

The tall Empyrean walked forward, but his features were no clearer than before. Only the faint red-hot glow of lava in the distance revealed the trademark robe and golden headdress of the mage who had mentored the struggling Isparian people since long before Tetraheathen arrived in Dereth. Asheron's gaze remained fixed on Tetraheathen, disapproving of his actions but also fully aware that he had inspired them.

"I have let him forget - he can start anew."

"Isparians are complicated creatures, Tetraheathen," replied Asheron. "When Kyle lost his family, their loss became an absence in his soul."

"He can fill that absence, now, with something else. Another love, another family, study of the magical arts."

"If he was able to replace his family in his heart, he would have done it on his own, Isparian. He does not need your help."

Asheron finally turned his gaze to Kyle, sitting on the bare igneous rock. A look of sorrow crossed Asheron's face, as he acknowledged the sin of discussing a man's fate as if he weren't in the room, able to make his own decisions. It was Asheron's own behavior in this regard that inspired actions like the one just taken by Tetraheathen.

Asheron addressed Tetraheathen again: "And now I cannot permit this man to live."

Tetraheathen gasped.

Asheron continued, "The emptiness in his soul will not go away. He will feel it again. He will feel a piece of himself missing. Before today, Tetraheathen, this man knew why he feels sorrow. What you have taken from him is the knowledge of what he has lost. What you have created today is a man who will wander the land in sorrow, and not know the source of his sorrow. On this path lies only madness.

"And the particular madness of Isparians . . . scares me." Asheron's voice trailed off into silence. Tetraheathen knew that Asheron was making a reference to his recent foe-turned-ally, Candeth Martine.

Tetraheathen bowed his head. A streak of lightning lit up the sky in the distance, far enough away that there was no trailing thunder. The Gharu'ndim closed his eyes and thought about the words of Asheron. He did not question the Empyrean's wisdom, but he did wonder how it was that Asheron knew so much about his race. Suspicion of the aged Empyrean wizard surfaced in his mind, but he suppressed those thoughts and turned back towards Kyle.

"What are you going to do with him?" asked Tetraheathen.
Asheron replied very simply, "He's coming with me." With that, Asheron became silent and took three steps towards the confused and incredulous Kyle. Asheron motioned Kyle to get up, which Kyle did quickly and without question. He sensed the righteousness and power in the ancient mage, and wanted to obey him.

Asheron quickly made several motions with one hand, summoning a portal. Asheron helped Kyle to stand with his free hand, then both of them walked into the portal and vanished.

And that was the last time anyone ever saw Kyle.

Metal sollerets crushed the first dry leaves of late summer as a figure approached the small Kara farmhouse. It was morning, and the sun had just left it's hiding place in the distant Linvak Mountains. The chirping of birds could be heard, but they did not echo in the valley because the air was so warm for that time of morning. By all accounts, a nice day in South Osteth.

Jerdan was clearing weeds and unwanted encroaching plants from a garden plot. His gaze was rooted to the ground, but he heard the footsteps coming down the hill towards him. Jerdan looked up and saw the figure approaching. At first he did not recognize him because of the armor, but the dark skin and hairless head made him easy to identify.

"Well, hello Tetraheathen. Good to see you again."

"You too, Jerdan. I bring news from the outside world again."

Jerdan put down his metal tiller and walked with the armored mage back towards the farmhouse. It was not far. Jerdan's son was playing near a water trough by the side of the house.

When they got to the house, Tetraheathen reached into his pack and produced a small toy for the boy - a yellowish jewel glowing faintly with an internal purple glow. He always left something for Jerdan's son when he visited. Though Tetraheathen had come to Dereth near Holtburg and was taken care of by friends near Glenden Wood, he had spent a lot of time here with Jerdan in his early explorations of Dereth. He had, in actuality, been aware of Kyle for some time and watched him from afar.

All three walked into the farmhouse and entered the kitchen area to greet Kina. She smiled upon seeing Tetraheathen again, and brought over a set of wooden chairs so they could all sit. Tetraheathen declined her offer and remained standing (his armor was heavy, and he would not test his friend's carpentry skills today).

Their conversation was brief in any case. "Kyle will no longer return to this house."

"Did you help him . . . to finish his quest?" asked Jerdan.

"No . . . and yes." Tetraheathen paused, choosing his words carefully. "For better or for worse, I think he got his wish.

"As for me - my brief career as an interlocutor is over. Getting power is not as hard as learning how to use it."

The armored mage abruptly left the house by the nearest exit.

"Shirov Thiloi"