"Come to me." The mortal orders with a smile. The two guards that had brought me in leave and go back outside where they close the doors. I slowly stand and walk towards where the mortal sat on his throne. Even though he had no mark like mine he thought that he was the true immortal. All the mages I killed did.
"Tell me." He says, "Why would you enter into my grasp so carelessly? Are you the bearer of a message from my enemies?" He assumed I was simply a servant as all the other immortals. He knew none of us had any magical powers and so I was probably the only immortal left who wasn't simply treated as a deathless servant.
"No" I respond in a soft voice to aggravate him. "I have come to find who I am." He laughs from atop his marble throne. Many of the mages had simply assumed I was one of the immortals whose minds had broken when I asked this question. After he finishes laughing he says,
"I will tell you what you are, you are a fool."
"That is not what I am." I say in the same quiet voice as before. The mortals hated it when I acted as if they were barely worth speaking to. Hopefully that would enrage him enough to punish me enough that I would die if I hadn't been immortal.
"You are nothing to me." He says anger in his eyes, then making a swift gesture I feel more than see my left arm being torn off. I hide my pain and do not even change my breathing. Even though I could still feel pain after so many years I could hide it well. The mortal continues staring with his cold impassive eyes as I continue standing. From his sneer it was obvious he had at least hoped to get a small reaction. I begin laughing knowing that losing my arm, however much it might hurt, would not count as a mortal wound therefore needing to be punished more. True to my expectations he yells, "Silence!" and with another small gesture I feel my heart inside of me collapse in on itself.
Now I begin laughing in earnest. Every single one of the mages I had faced I had managed to convince to give me a mortal wound. This one had been almost too simple with it's ease. The mage had obviously never heard of moderation, but then again it wasn't hard to tell with him wearing a crown of bones. I begin slowly walking towards him.
"You reign is over." I say feeling the transformation beginning. As always if I wished I could have stopped it. But why would I? It served me well to have everyone assume that I wasn't a true immortal and just a magical assassin in disguise. That made it all the sweeter when they died.
"You have used us." I say now feeling waves of red, white and black sweeping over me. Wings burst from my back and my hands turned into claws. Now the mortal was yelling spells as I approached. If he had simply ran it would have been better for him. I was the last of the first immortals and the only one to retain some shred of my former glory. It required me to receive wounds that would have killed a normal human but that was a small price to pay for retribution. "You have killed thousands," I continue "You believe that you are the true immortals!" I say yelling now "You are nothing! You take, steal, lie, murder, but in the end you are a simple mortal." Now he tries to run but I leap over to him gliding on my wings.
I grab him and throw him to the ground hearing bones snap. He tries to say something, probably a plea for mercy or a bribe but in my current state I could not even hear him above the blood rushing through my veins. I rip the crown off his head and then rip out his heart. I lean in close to hear what he would say. All magic users I killed except one had given me a name. I had simply not found the right one yet.
"Forgotten." I throw his now dead body across the room in frustration. I had heard that one many times now. I watch as the palace begins to crumble around me with his magic that had been holding it together gone. I walk out the doors shifting back into my natural form of a human and smile at the shocked guards then use the last of my death's magic to transport me to the gate of my home.