“What are you doing here?” asked the surprised Archmage. Of all people and creatures, the wandering, deathless scribe was the last individual he expected to see in a rogue Elder’s refuge.

“Not really here, Archmage. Somewhere to the south. But my spell told me you belatedly got around to visiting Banna. Don’t be surprised about the advanced spell. It isn’t like that primitive conjuration I heard the Titan Iapetus used. This one enables us to talk and see each other. A gift from one powerful and fortunately deceased dark spirit,” smiled Lumeri. “And you’re finally on Banna, a land where true titans of magic walk. Where mere mages wield power which easily dwarfs a deity’s strength.”

“Where’s that dying rogue Elder you told me was waiting for me?” asked Tyler. A sinking feeling was starting to emerge, threatening to drag any previous expectation into oblivion.

“She’s dead. The call of death couldn’t wait any longer. I did visit her once more, just before she was dragged into whatever hell awaited her kind. I had a change of heart, you see, and her expiring presence on this plane was too opportune to pass up,” continued the image.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” cursed Tyler, all restraint thrown into the ether. It was apparent he was going to hear something ugly and that Lumeri the Scribe wasn’t the same obedient and humble entity he had encountered before.

But Lumeri didn’t answer him immediately. Instead, his right hand gestured, and an image of the shen appeared in the room.

“The shen. Infinity in a symbol. Of Kemetian symbolism. A fitting sign of my desire. A reminder of the circle I want to break. Thaut of Kemet was my principal jailor. I believe I had told you that already. An infinity of existence. A punishment to last until the end of time,” voiced Lumeri, gazing upward at something only he could see. “I realized that it was too long.”

TOO LONG? It’s infinity, you moron, thought the now irate mage. But he admitted that the disjointed narrative of Lumeri alarmed him.

“I want to die, Archmage. I am… deathly tired. So tired you can’t imagine the burden my being endures and suffers every time I see a sunrise,” continued the scribe. “Then, call it an epiphany… but a thought occurred to me. I had reached a point of having enormous magical knowledge at my disposal. I was uniquely positioned to whisper ideas and courses of action to powerful beings. What if I do something to achieve what I really desire?”

Oh, fuck. I think I know where this is going, realized Tyler. Another goddammit headache.

“I repeat, what the fuck did you do?” asked Tyler, this time in a cold, seething manner.

“You’ll know about that in due course, Archmage. But patience seemed to be lacking in your person. That quality, I have in more than sufficient quantity. Enough for a world.”

“This world is full of tragic mad gods and mortals. I had enough of their stories. I seek rest. As in death. My punishers said I could only die at the end of time. Such a simple sentence, yet filled with interesting nuances. Would the elimination of the deities of the First World constitute such an event? Or does it involve the total disappearance of magic? Achieving the former would be quicker, and the second, a trying yet possible endeavor. I decided to try the easier solution first. If it doesn’t work, I will focus on the latter,” explained Lumeri, still with that disturbing smile.

“You would sacrifice a world in order to die?” exclaimed Tyler, refusing to believe what he just heard.

“I would,” replied the scribe calmly.