The mage resolved to fight the lich before his armies rose

regardless of mistakes he’d made he lived the life he chose

he’d never let the past come back to curse the world anew

this would be the time to do whatever he could do

But still confusion haunted every thought inside his head

he came to fight the lich, but it had thanked the mage instead

“What have you to thank me for, I played the hero’s part

I fought my each and every enemy with all my heart”

The lich was laughing too much to make sense of every word

responding playfully to what announcements he had heard

“I know you love to swing your silly weapons night and day

let us greet each other in a more exciting way”

Without a word he launched a full assault upon his foe

the lich was smiling as he blocked the spears of ice and snow

no matter how the mage attacked with magic, fists, or staff

the lich would soon recover with his magic spells and laugh

Assuming that the lich’s words were meant to do him harm

the way he’d witnessed other spells, or one old monarch’s charm

he tried to quell the chaos in his head with each attack

but every time he drew a breath, the shock and fear came back

The lich was still convinced that this old mage was just a friend

a comrade in the search for death and carnage without end

although he did grow bored of all the elder’s cold attacks

as he summoned more undead, the lich could still relax

“Play with these until you’ve satisfied your need to fight

they aren’t as strong as you but they were heroes in their right”

the undead which he summoned were much different than the rest

they still had some intelligence and seemed to be distressed

They shouted out in anger but they couldn’t keep control

manipulated by the lich who held their very soul

they wielded swords against the mage with legendary skill

their swords all full of sorrow moving by another’s will

The mage was moved by every swift attack the heroes made

he’d never seen so dignified or disciplined a blade

despite their being dead and may centuries displaced

their lives of dedication to the sword were not erased

A feeling crept upon him, but a curse was not to blame

he realised in all his admiration there was shame

for what he fought was not just any hero who was strong

he knew the way the hero fought from one old hero’s song

The sword that now attacked him was a shining work of art

know throughout the east for tearing dragon scales apart

the hero who still wielded it, his face now mostly bones

was honoured for his service to a host of ancient thrones

Each attack that came was more impressive than the last

each hero’s sword was sharpened by a long and epic past

he almost hesitated to defend himself at first

he wouldn’t fight such righteous heroes had they not been cursed

Yet in the heroes admiration, something else emerged

a sober recognition when their great attacks converged

for even though he knew the heroes’ every fight and war

he realised he’d never seen a hero’s blade before

He didn’t recognize a single one of their attacks

even after death their will and spirit showed no cracks

the way they swung their swords was unlike anything he knew

but emulating them was all he’d ever tried to do

They begged the mage to kill them and relieve them of their pain

fearing they’d be used to kill, preferring to be slain

in bitterness and rage, he cast the strongest spell he could

they thanked him as they turned to dust, and then they left for good

The lich was entertained by how the mage had sent them out

he laughed with satisfaction til he heard the old man shout

“I never thought I’d meet a monster worse than I have been

your very presence makes the world around you this unclean”

Again the mage attacked the lich with mighty spells of ice

but for his efforts, he would only hit him once or twice

the lich was far more fluent in the art of magic spells

much stronger than its summoned monsters, only empty shells

“If you wish to fight and die, I’m happy with that too

you’d be stronger anyway when I next summon you

but tell me, for I’m curious, why you don’t give your all

I sense a fire inside you which still answers to your call”

The mage was well aware that he had pushed his fire away

the flames he used to scar the land and lead the world astray

he thought he’d rather die than once again release control

and let the endless fire in his heart consume his soul

“Don’t insult me, human mage, I’m kind but not a saint

show me all the strength you have or die without complaint”

the lich stood up and walked toward the mage without a care

mocking him with every word that filled the poison air

The old man kept attacking and his powers never waned

failing still to even keep the monster entertained

but now he had no time for hesitation or regret

he may have slain two dragons but was not a hero yet

He summoned forth a little fire at first in his right hand

ashamed to still take pleasure in the flame at his command

suddenly he summoned forth two blades, of ice and fire

hesitant to act upon his enemy’s desire

He let the ice and fire consume his body in a flash

unleashing on the lich an endless storm of frozen ash

he tried to call upon the sense of purpose he once knew

and rise to meet the challenge if his destiny was true

He fueled his every strike with thoughts of justice, peace, and love

heroic traits that gave him powers granted from above

even if his motives hadn’t always been so pure

he could face this evil as a hero and endure

He found some power in his purpose, swinging both his swords

and for his faith in destiny he clung to its rewards

but as the cavern filled with ice and ashes while he fought

still it seemed it wasn’t what his enemy had sought

In his eyes, the image of those mighty heroes burned

those you held the title which he once thought he had earned

he felt like he could hear his heart begin to break in two

but with his foe before him there was nothing he could do

“No longer will I humour you, you’ve worn my patience thin

this hero’s games you play has no more battles left to win”

with that the lich leaned forward and he grabbed the old man’s head

and threw him at the wall so hard the wall was dyed with red

His magic was dispelled before he landed on the stones

his healing magic slow to fix his many broken bones

his fire had been extinguished and his ice destroyed with ease

the lich, in just a single move, had brought him to his knees

“How was such a cursed being allowed to grow so strong

where in fate’s design could such obscenity belong

now a monster mocks me for the hero’s path I walk

my fate is not to fail today and die upon this rock”

The lich was walking leisurely to where the mage had flown

disappointed at the strength his enemy had shown

his body had recovered but his spirit still was weak

he listened as the monstrous lich again began to speak

“You talk too much of fate for such a small, pathetic man

I’ll tell you what your fate is so just listen while you can

you fight as long and hard as time allows and then you die

you act upon your nature, as I have, and don’t ask why”

The lich reached out and placed his hand around the old man’s arm

lamenting that his comrade couldn’t do him any harm

he cast a spell that would’ve made a normal human die

but noticed something in the fallen old man’s eye

~