Death.

Only in death could I find peace. For only in death is my mind at rest. My body. My… soul.

What I once thought I should fear, I now revere. This numb, serene blackness I now regard as a blessing. For only in death am I my own.

But no peace can ever last for me.

No blessing ever stays with me.

I can only be my own for so long.

For I am not the fortunate kind.

Life.

I could feel the life seep back into my veins, turning to flesh what was once stone.

No…. twice stone.

For this is a third life.

The third time I must bear the burden of living blood flowing through my veins.

No troll could say they have been brought back from the dead twice.

No troll except for me.

"Again you shall rise and set me free."

Angor Rot awoke, a sharp breath rushing through his lungs.

He awoke to a blackness. Not one like death, but one like a cage. One he knew.

This is the Shadow Realm. And with the Skathe-Hrün destroyed, there is no way out.

Angor remembered it all. How he ended up here. He could almost feel the Eclipse Blade still piercing his skin and bone, his flesh slowly turning to stone in the final moments of war, falling back into this realm he once utilized…. a necessary sacrifice for the defeat of Morgana.

The defeat of his captor.

He was all to willing to give his life for one final moment of the hero he used to be.

The hero that was destroyed with the loss of his soul.

The hero he could reclaim as his own, just like his soul. In his final moments…

But why…

Why was he awake.

"My champion….."

That voice.

"Together, we will return."

Those hands, touching his body. Caressing him.

"Together… We will show those fools they cannot be rid of their Eldritch Queen so easily."

That breath, whispering in his ear.

It was Her.

Whatever She had to say next, Angor didn't care. He broke from Her grip, baring kill-hungering fangs at the only source of light in this abyss of darkness, one question in his mind overpowering all the rest. "What have you done?"

"What does it look like, my champion? I have brought you back to me once more." She spoke as though She had done him a favour. "No one can take you away from me. Not even you."

Instant rage. It overtook Angor with the intensity of many suns. His blade a hungry tongue crawled out of its sheath, glowing Creeper's Sun ready to salivate death into the veins of its next victim. But the troll, he whom had just been dead only moments earlier, he had no hope of matching the sorceress like this.

That much was made clear by the blast of raw energy She flicked at him, an effortless endeavor to cast Her possession aside. She threw him like it was nothing.

Just because She's trapped doesn't mean She doesn't still have Her magic.

He can't fight like this.

Why is this happening?

Why has she brought him back?

"Why?!"

"I need you."

"You have no need for me!" Angor's dark voice cut through the shadows like his knife through flesh, bleeding with fury. "You are trapped here as I am, forever and always! What possible need could you have for me anymore?!"

His rage was met with a cruel giggle. One suiting that of a deranged sorceress.

Why, indeed? Was it just to make him suffer? Never let him have the one feeling of peace he yearns for? Was it to exercise Her magic, see if She could still perform something so bold as resurrection? Has She done this merely to use him as entertainment while they waste away in shadows?

"You are wrong, Angor Rot." Spoke Her soft voice. "We are not stuck here."

Yeah… Rot wasn't buying it. "The Skathe-Hrün is gone." He insisted. "You have no escape."

"I created the Skathe-Hrün. I was the first to have mastered this realm. This is MY domain, and I͏̘͎ ͚͓͖̮̥͘w̜̝i͔̺͔̗ll ̨̱͙no̟̰̘͇̝ͅt̡̟̼̗̺̦ͅ b͕̙̙͓̗͉ͅe̮̲̮ ̵̲̻̟̼̰͔̣t̛r҉̝͉̘͔̤ͅap̯̤p҉̲̲͓̯̯̬e̹̫̟̕d͏͈͖̠ ̝̝͕h̞̘̘͚̞͈͠e͔͔͕̭r̲e͎̹͙ ." The witch's angry voice boomed, before lowering back down to a soft coo. "Just wait, my champion. You will see."

No. He doesn't want to see whatever sort of treachery She had planned. He's had enough of being Her puppet.

Grim as the situation seemed, Angor would stand his ground. Wisps of purple magic lingered at his fingers, his lone eye scanning the Pale Lady for weak spots and motion cues, anything to give him an edge.

"I've been working tirelessly, my champion."

God, how Her voice annoyed him.

"I made a way in and out of here before. I can do it again… and I think I have."

Shut up already.

"Do they really think I spent all those years of preparation only to be trapped here of all places? They must be mad if they think this temporary cage can stop me!"

Idling posture. She's getting comfortable in her monologue.

One clear shot.

Magic burst from Angor Rot's claws, a screeching fireball locked onto its target with no falter.

But Morgana seemed to have been watching him just as closely.

Her movements were smoother than Angor could have expected, Her leaning out of the way of the blast just enough to only get grazed. As the violet flames ripped by the side of Her face, they tore off a piece of mask with it. Though, not even a moment's time passed before shadows manifested a physical form to replace it, like they had a mind of their own.

In one last ditch effort to land some kind of damage against Her, Angor Rot lunged forward, knife in hand aimed at Her throat, but the sorceress reacted too quickly, ensnaring him in golden chains moments before he reached Her.

"Do you see how this place bends to my very will, Angor?" She softly cooed, leaning in close to display Her new chunk of helm. "The Skathe-Hrün may no longer be accessible to us… only a minor inconvenience. It just means I've had to work some… 'new angles'."

As much as Angor wanted to make some other snappy remark at this witch, he didn't have the time to as he was engulfed in a strange gold light, completely blinding him. Tingling sensations crept through the cracks in his body, a harsh ringing pounding through his ears, intertwined with Morgana's hellish voice, singing songs of victory in their future. When the light faded away, everything was black.

It was like he lost contact with all of his senses. Couldn't even move. It was almost like another death.

But this was not death.

What felt like hours, or maybe even days, dragged by Angor Rot slowly, but even his sense of time felt jumbled.

Finally something happened.

He could start to feel his senses slowly return.

He could hear birds.