I stared up at Cojisto. No priests of any gods had performed a successful resurrection in… ages. Long, long before the Thousand Year Blizzard started sucking in all the ambient mana that it could to sustain itself. Centuries, if not millennia. It wasn’t so much a lost magic but one locked away by the gods.

  It was something that the majority of them had decided on, good and evil alike. Such a thing was unheard of, but the world was a worse place before the decision. The stories told that it was done to keep the world from devolving into a game of pawns fighting back and forth endlessly with no fear of death because they could be brought back if they fell in battle.

  In a world like ours where battles and even wars could be decided by a handful of individuals, the losers were always the regular folks. I, personally, agreed with the decision. No matter how powerful or long-lived you were, death should always be final.

  Good and evil still fought, of course. There was never any stopping that. Sometimes one side would win, and then the other would regroup and push back. No matter what happened, the balance would always find a way to reset towards neutrality.

  Shade Lord Drom Grul, First Servant of Krosomlar, god of shadows, may have lived for two centuries through divine magic and been at war with the Hero King Maltis for just as long, but his reign of terror didn’t last another five years after slaying the royal one last time once resurrection magic was removed from the world. Having been led by one awesomely powerful man for so long, his government soon collapsed without anyone to rally around.

  His country was taken over and eventually became what was presently known as New Frausta. There were still temples to Krosomlar tucked away here and there, but the god was no longer so influential that a single one of his followers could change the flow of the continent.

  “Badger, are you okay?” Cojisto asked, snapping his fingers over my head to get my attention.

  “I’m fine,” I said, slapping his hand away. A little purple spark protected him on what appeared to be instinct, and I remembered the Fluid Force ability he had gotten from the Dungeon Master. “What I don’t get is why you’re lying to me.”

  He frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever lied to you about anything. Honestly, I’m a pretty truthful guy. Which is what a liar would say, I know, but in my case it happens to be true.”

  Moose croaked from behind me.

  “Yes,” Cojisto sighed. “I do know that is also what a liar would say. The point is, I’m not lying.”

  “Then answer me this, adventurer,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “When was the last time you heard of anyone coming back from the dead, huh? You, of all people, should know that resurrections are—”

  “Recistation,” he interrupted. I arched an eyebrow at him, and Moose huffed. Cojisto nodded. “My bad. Resuscitation. That’s what happened to me.”

  I turned to look at the holy animal behind me. His brown eyes were far too intelligent for what he was, and he nodded as he stared back at me. I was reminded of the fact that Moose had been the one to set up a counter ritual to stop the Cult of Chaos from making their dungeon in Athir. He hadn’t known anything about them back when I explained one I had set up in Razorbeak’s dungeon, but he had come a long way very quickly.

  “What did you do?” I asked, though it came out as a demand.

  My tone caused his ears to flatten against his head despite being many times my size and weight, and Moose began to croak and growl, stamping his foot. I knew he wasn’t trying to scare me, but telling a story. Cojisto started translating when it became clear that his best friend wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

  “Moose can’t resurrect people, but he thinks that he and I might be different,” the man rambled, translating quickly as if to keep up with Moose. “Not that he can resurrect himself or me, but that we’re connected in a way that doesn’t make a lot of sense for other people. Our souls have bonded through the power of friendship and brotherhood. That’s how he was able to sense that I was dead and not just knocked out.”

  The healer nodded and Cojisto seemed to pick up where he left off.

  “We do have a very solid connection, so I can see what he means. Almost sense it myself, even. Not as potently, but it’s there. A kinship, I mean. It’s always been there, just more prominent recently. He’s my best friend, you know? Always has been. But the moment I was tossed away by Ulrich’s lightning spell, he could feel my soul start to leave my body. You know, on account of the fact that I was dead.”

  I held up a hand for Cojisto to pause, and he seemed to stumble over his words in the process of stopping. He was rambling and I wanted to keep him grounded.

  “What did you see at that point?” I asked, my morbid curiosity getting the better of my foul mood.

  “Nothing,” Cojisto answered. “Ulrich’s attack sent me flying backwards into a wall, then there was a void. Not like the one we got stuck in after you did your ritual thing with Ferry back in the blizzard, but something… hungry. But not maliciously so, you know? Like it was greedy but not actively harmful. Like when you give a kid some candy, but you accidentally gave them something that you were saving for later, but when you try to take it back and trade it out they hold on stubbornly to it. Like—”

  “I get the picture,” I interrupted, cutting him off before he could spiral deeper into the analogy.

  His experience was in line with others who had gone through near death or actual death experiences. Resurrections were off the table, but there were ways to bring someone back to life if they were administered quickly enough. CPR or even a well-placed jolt of electric magic could restart a heart. It didn’t always work, but it could happen.

  “It certainly sounds like you were being called to have your soul sorted to the proper afterlife,” I told him before I turned back to Moose. “So, what did you do?”

  He once again started speaking and stomping with Cojisto lagging a few seconds behind to translate. “Moose didn’t even realize I was dead until the whole soul connection thing showed him I was. It wasn’t the first time I’d been knocked out and it probably won’t be the last, but the moment he knew what had happened he came my way and touched his snout to my head.”

  The man paused as Moose continued, as if he wasn’t sure how to put it into words I could understand.

  “Hey, that’s way too technical for me to figure out how to say,” Cojisto interrupted apologetically. Huffing, Moose nodded and tried again. “Okay, okay. So, basically, he cast a spell that healed my body enough that it became a decent enough vessel for my soul. Heart pumping, lungs breathing, getting everything to work that needed to. I just kind of… schlurped right back into it.” Moose gave him a look, and he raised his hands. “What? That’s a good word for it. It’s what I felt!”

  As the two started to argue, I thought about what Cojisto had said and lamented that I couldn’t understand it directly from Moose himself. Resuscitation was a good word for it. It reminded me of some of the old texts about divine spellcasting that I had read back when I was learning what it meant to be a paladin of Tegril.

  “It sounds like you’ve grown enough to learn a spell called Breath of Life,” I said, causing them both to look at me. “It just barely skirts around the rules about raising people from the dead. If the soul has not reached Sarlor’s domain, the Space Between, to be sorted, then there’s no resurrection taking place. Only those in the upper echelons of the church are usually powerful enough to wield it, and it’s not bestowed often.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Moose has always been special,” Cojisto praised with a grin. “He’s been calling it Cure Deadly Wounds, though. Breath of Life is good, too, but I like this because it follows the same name as the other cure spells.”

  I shrugged. What they called it wasn’t any of my business so long as it worked. Which brought up my next question, and I turned to the healer. “Can you only use it on Cojisto? Is that why he brought up the soul bond or whatever you two have going on?”

  “Oh, no, no,” the man quickly answered. “That’s just how he knew I died.”

  “With the power of friendship and brotherhood,” I said flatly.

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “But Moose can use it on other people if he knows that they’ve died and he can reach them fast enough?” I asked, getting straight to the core of the question. “Because you were rambling before and that muddled the details.”

  A quick glance passed between them before Cojisto nodded. “Moose is unsure because he hasn’t used it on anyone else, but he’s almost positive that it can. In fact, he’s working on his own spell he’s calling—” The healer grunted, interrupting the pugilist, who shrugged. “You want Badger to take us along, right?”

  The question made Moose sulk a little, but he nodded.

  Cojisto continued. “He’s working on his own spell called Soulwatch that’ll let him expand that link to others. He can tell if they’re alive, injured, poisoned, dead, and a bunch of other stuff. It only works on me so far because, you know, we’re already connected, but he thinks he’ll have it done soon.”

  I found myself nodding along even as I frowned. That kind of healing power was beyond me. Even though I did have the capability to mend wounds with a touch, I wouldn’t be a match for someone dedicated to those kinds of arts. As much as I didn’t like their disappearance, having Moose around could mean one of us survives a fight we otherwise wouldn’t have.

  Plus, Cojisto was a competent fighter who got on well with everyone except me, so his presence would help more than it hindered.

  But I wasn’t going to just let them back in all willy-nilly.

  Crossing my arms, I turned towards the Human and glared up at him. He stood up a little straighter at the sudden shift in mood. “So, you died,” I said simply. “I didn’t take you as the kind of person cowed by the threat of death, considering your goal is to be the world’s greatest adventurer.”

  Cojisto scratched the back of his head and sighed. “To be honest, Badger, I didn’t think I was, either,” he admitted solemnly. His eyes turned towards the ocean. “I always thought I had everything figured out. Travel with my best friend, join some groups going on dungeon dives to get the full breadth of the world, and become one of the greats. That had been my goal for a long, long time.”

  There was a brief pause, but there was something in the air that told me I shouldn’t try to fill it. He continued again shortly.

  “I’ve had my ass kicked plenty of times before. Lost a lot of battles, won some more, but I’ve always pushed forwards. Kept my eyes ahead of us. Never stepping off my path. Until now.”

  “Because of your fight with Ulrich,” I stated.

  To my surprise, he shook his head. “No, because that wasn’t a fight. That was entertainment, and we were on the wrong side of it. I could tell that I had the skill advantage in hand to hand combat, but only barely, and he only used his magic when he felt he needed to until the end.” Cojisto sighed heavily and turned back to me. “Look, man. I’ve been in the presence of power before. The DoD director guy, some of the heaviest hitters the Consortium have on record, you. This was the first time I thought I saw a mountain I couldn’t climb. And you know what the worst part of it was?”

  I frowned, but took a wild stab at it. “That it felt like he was holding back on purpose, because dead men don’t seek revenge,” I guessed, using Ulrich’s own words.

  “That’s exactly it,” he confirmed, pointing down at me. “All that power from the Dungeon Master, backed up by Moose and Dalsarel, and I barely dented the man. I had a lot of thinking to do, so we went home.”

  For a moment, I was relieved that Ulrich was such a petty man. If he was to be believed, then the only reason why he didn’t do everything himself was because he was under orders to take out big threats as they appeared. That’s how he found me, after all.

  Not for the first time, I wondered how close CC had been to actually winning that fight. Director Ortaephaen would have made an appearance before everything was truly lost, but a battle between him and Ulrich likely would have leveled portions of the city.

  I shook my head clear of such thoughts. That’s not what happened, so it didn’t matter. “Where’s home?” I asked instead. “And how long did you wallow before you got your act together?”

  “Breezeholm, on the outskirts of the Coroda Wildlands to the north,” he answered.

  “You lived in the Coroda Wildlands?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yeah. Breezeholm’s located between two clashing mountains overlooking everything,” Cojisto continued. “About halfway up on a plateau. We get a great view of the wildlands and Ostany, that string of Gnomish settlements to the north.”

  I glanced at Moose with newfound appreciation. “Is that where he found you? Coroda?” I asked, and the healer nodded. “You know there’s nothing but monsters and barbarians in there, right?”

  He rolled his shoulders in an approximation of a shrug, and it seemed like that was all he had to say on the matter.

  With a sigh, I turned back to Cojisto. “So, you went home. If you came back to us, then we all could have trained together and we could have had two more perspectives on Ulrich’s style, right?”

  “Yeah, but… we didn’t want to come back as failures,” he said softly, as if admitting it would make the world view him differently. “Plus, I had to come to grips with a few things. Moose has always said we’re transient, right? That we show up, we do a few jobs, and then we’re in the wind. It’s always been fun, but clearly that attitude wasn’t enough. So, up on the mountains, I did some soul searching.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “That I’m not doing this to line my pockets, or for the thrills, but for people.” Cojisto looked back down at me, and there was resolve and determination in his eyes that had been sorely missed. “Badger, it’s my calling to be an adventurer. It’s in my blood and there’s no denying that. But, at the same time, I want something more. I don’t just want to be the world’s greatest adventurer anymore; I want to be a hero, with a capital H. A protector. Someone that everyone everywhere can look up to. Moose, too. That’s our ambition, and we’ve been training for that.”

  The pugilist started taking a few steps back, and his Fluid Force started rippling down his right arm. “I wasn’t idle even when I was thinking. You know me by now, I have to keep moving. So I did what I did best. Fought. Learning everything I could about my new powers with Moose since he’s so much smarter than I am.”

  Chuffing, the healer nodded from beside me. The purple energy on Cojisto’s arm started solidifying, hovering around his wrist.

  “I’m not the same Cojisto you knew. I’ve shed myself of the weight of my failure. For the first time since… I can’t even remember, I’m focused, Badger. Death has changed me, and I’ve come out stronger because of it.”

  Taking one last step back, Cojisto raised his energy-clad arm into the air. He made a fist and brought it downwards towards the rock we were all standing on. His Fluid Force moved with him, coalescing and descending with him. The earth shook on contact as the purple magic flowed into it, threatening to throw me and Moose off balance, and for a moment there I thought he was going to destroy the stone from underneath us.

  The tremors subsided as he took a breath and he stood up straight. Underneath where he had punched was a hole. He beckoned me towards it as Moose cast a spell to conjure a ball of light. I did as he instructed, following the magic.

  A perfectly circular hole went far deeper into the stone than I thought it would, and I could see the water rushing in from the other side. Cojisto took a breath and bowed his head. Moose was quick to join him, letting his spell disappear once it was no longer needed.

  “Badger, we’re really sorry for leaving you and everyone,” he said, his fists clenched so tightly that I worried for his joints. “We understand if you can’t trust us, but we still want to be a part of your group. We promise not to get in the way, and we’ll do everything you say without question. Please, take us with you.”

  “And what about Ulrich?” I asked pointedly.

  “If we fight him, then we fight him. We’re not in it for revenge, but to help our friends and everyone else.”

  I frowned as I looked from Cojisto to Moose, and he stamped the ground once. That, I knew, meant he agreed with everything his companion said. I turned my gaze towards the hole again.

  So, Cojisto was focused now, was he?

  My frown turned into a scowl as I realized what I was thinking. Throwing my arms in the air, I turned around and started heading to the road to Port St. Grandus.

  Behind me, the adventuring duo was quick to follow. “Wait, does that mean you accept or deny us?” he asked.

  “It means I have some calls to make,” I answered, surly at the surprising amount of pride I felt for Cojisto. “For better or worse, welcome to the team, I guess.”

  They cheered, and I groaned. With the things I put myself through sometimes, I had to be some sort of glutton for punishment.