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 bonesIf you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

　　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

　　~