Fog, stretching and willowing in an unknown breeze spiraled around me. It was time for me to pass on to the next world. Hopefully the dice of fate rolls in favor of me the next go around.. I started blinking desperately, I wanted to see my home one last time. I could make out the vague shapes of my family standing around me, my mother gripping my numb hand in her iron grip. The town doctor standing soberly behind her. There was nothing he could do for me anymore, we had caught the disease too late.

  All he could do was ease my passing, I was grateful for that. I’d like to think a weak smile spread across my face before I closed my eyes for the last time.

  My sight left first, followed by sound, then scent. My feeling of touch abandoning me long before my final moments. Until all that was left of me in that world was a hollow shell lying still on a straw tick bed.

  “I have a use for you,” A kind sounding voice whispered, “Would you like a second chance?

  ”

  I thought about that question for what felt like a lifetime, time feels weird in the void. I gathered my will into one single word, “Yes.”

  A mist took the void’s place, and my senses returned one by one, leaving me standing there, clueless on how to proceed. Was my second chance at life this place? To wander for eternity? I had vague hopes it would at least be interesting.

  I glanced around, deciding on what direction to wander in first when I spotted a man, standing casually in the mist. “Um, hello?” I asked, my voice feeling muted. Either by the years of disuse or the thickness of the mist.

  The man jumped, as if startled, “Oh, hello,” He smiled broadly at me, “My apologies, it usually takes longer for you people to arrive.”

  “You people?” I raised an eyebrow.

  The man nodded, “We’ll get to that later. For now, what’s your name?” He reached out and pulled a leatherbound book from thin air, opening it and pulling an ink pen from its pages.

  I blinked, that was such a casual use of magic that it left me dumbfounded. “I’m sorry but, what kind of magic was that?”

  “A simple cantrip,” The man chuckled, “Makes transporting things around a hell of a lot easier. “ He tapped his forefinger against the spine of the book, “Your name please?”

  “Oh right,” I mumbled embarrassed, “It’s Crowley.”

  He nodded, “Crowley,” He tapped the spine a few more times, eyeing me curiously and I watched my name engrave itself in a spiraling script, “No last name?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

  I shook my head, “Not anymore no.”

  The man nodded, “Right, well please take a seat and we’ll discuss your future.” He snapped his fingers and the mist coalesced into a simple wooden table with chairs to match.

  I took a hesitant step forward, again with the casual use of magic. I was amazed and frankly, more than a little jealous. “Before that, what’s the book for? I get it has my name on it but I can’t see the reason for something so large for the current situation.”

  “Ah,” The man nodded and took a seat gracefully, “It’s to record your journey from here on. I like to keep records of my investments and experiments.”

  I sat across from him, “Records of your investments and experiments?”

  He nodded and held the open book out for me to read, it was writing itself, recording every word spoken and every movement taken. I didn’t have any words for it. “How does it keep track of me?”

  “Magic,” The man answered simply, “A soul tie if you want specifics.”

  I frowned, I hadn’t heard of something like that before and then I realized something. “Oh, what was your name?” I had gotten so caught up in what was happening that I forgot to ask the most basic of questions.

  “I have a few,” The man thought for a moment before deciding on one, “You can call me Sirus.”

  I nodded, “All right then Sirus, before we get started I have a question. Am I an investment or an experiment?” My foot tapped soundlessly against the misty floor. .

  “That depends on a few things,” Sirus answered thoughtfully, “Have you ever been to an interview or been privy to one?”

  “I was around when my mother was interviewing staff a few times,” I replied after a moment.

  “Great,” Sirus smiled, “This will be similar. I’ll just ask you a few questions and I want you to answer honestly. Got that?”

  I nodded.

  “Fantastic,” He pulled a couple more books from the mist and laid them out on the table, “Firstly, how old are you?”

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Twenty-three,” I answered.

  “Is that Winters or Years?” He asked.

  “Winters,” I clarified.

  He nodded and wrote something down in one of the books. “And what kind of upbringing did you have?”

  “My Father was a knight and I was trained as a squire for a few years before,” I hesitated, a lump forming in my throat, “After my younger brother was born and I started getting sick, he didn’t have much use for a bastard son.” I coughed, “Became more of a bookworm after that.”

  Sirus nodded, his pen scribbling along a page. “And how would you describe your parents?”

  I shrugged, “My father was honorable, a bit of a drunk after the war, but a decent man I suppose.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek before continuing, “My mother kept by me after I got sick and did her best to take care of me until the end.”

  “Mhm,” Sirus nodded, “And did you feel like you were a burden to them?” He asked, his head never looking up from the page he was writing on.

  I frowned but nodded.

  “And do you think you’d do much better with a second chance?”

  I nodded again, my resolve hardening. I wouldn’t let anything stop me from living the life I wanted.

  He looked up from his book and smiled, “Excellent. Now then, one last question. What’s the value of a soul?” The swirling mist seemed to pause in its elegant dance when the words fell from his lips.

  He asked it so casually I genuinely thought it was a joke, I almost laughed. “I’m sorry?”

  “What is the value of a soul?” He repeated.

  “I,” I paused for a moment before continuing, “I don’t know.” I frowned in thought, he had been asking such mundane questions up until now. I wasn’t the slightest bit prepared to answer a question philosophers had been pondering for years.

  We sat in silence for several long minutes before he nodded and put down his book and pen. “I appreciate that you didn’t try to give me a half-assed answer. Give it some thought, it doesn’t have to be answered right now. Or even while you’re here in this place.”

  I nodded slowly, “All right. What happens now?”

  “Now we get on to your second chance,” Sirus stretched in his chair, “If my impression of you thus far is correct, you’re going to be an investment and an experiment.”

  “And what does that entail?” I inquired. As far as I was concerned, whatever he offered me was a done deal. I had just died, it wasn’t like there was something to go back to, there was only forward for me.

  “Simple, I’m going to assign you a class,” The books in front of him dissolved into the mist and he produced a green gem, “Via this handy little artifact. You’ll wake up in another world with a few million other people, this world is only inhabited by monsters at the moment. I want you and the others to change that.”

  “Huh?” The word came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  “It is a bit much isn’t it?” He laughed, I could’ve sworn there was a touch of mania in there. “But there’s no rush, ask me any questions that come to mind before we get you initialized.”

  It took me longer than I’d care to admit for my rational side to make a reappearance, but eventually it did.

  “What do you mean by you'll assign me a class?” That wasn’t the most pressing thing to ask I know but I was confused.

  “A class is a template, a path to power. Follow it or defy it, your choice.” He answered.

  “That cleared up absolutely nothing.” I muttered.

  The bastard just shrugged.

  “Fine, if that’s all I’m going to get on that then let’s move on,” I half snarled, “Why a world inhabited by just monsters? I know I said I trained as a squire but that was six or seven years ago, I don’t have the type of training you’re looking for.”

  “It’s a freshly born world, made from the ashes of a great war. I want you to colonize it, well you and millions of other people and races. Think of it like a restoration project.” He shrugged again, “It’s a second chance at life and a chance to make history.” He smiled broadly as he said the last statement.

  “That seems like a lot,” I replied.

  “Do you really have any other choice, Crowley?” He raised an eyebrow, holding the gem out to me.

  If I did, I wasn’t aware of it. “Fair point.” I reached out for the gem and only then noticed the pointed ears hidden in the long raven black hair. He was a fey. No wonder I was so confused the entire time.

  But it was too late, I had already wrapped my fingers around the gem. A rush of information hit me like a runaway carriage. I toppled from my chair and felt the gem begin to integrate with my body. I wanted to scream, I wanted the pain, the stabs in my head to stop. It was all too much.

  Sirus stood over me, watching the scene unfold and wrote something in a little book I hadn’t seen him pull out. “Subject appears to have an innate affinity with the artifact,” He muttered.

  I choked out a laugh that turned into a coughing fit, if this was an innate affinity then not having it would’ve been a death sentence.

  Sirus smiled and closed the book with finality, “Good luck out there Crowley. Use your new powers wisely.”

  My eyes started to close, a bizarre box of text popped into existence behind my eyelids.

  System initializing.

  Your Path has been chosen. Class granted: [Necromancer].