Jay Bishop, the new Deathlife Knight, was sitting in his apartment. In his hands he held his sword, the short sword Azurewrath. It had shown he images of his past when he had first transformed to help Michiru, although it had been later he had found out who she actually was. Now, he wanted to know more. He held the sword and closed his eyes. He wanted to know more of his past. The sword obliged�

Jay was 12, and lived with his parents, although they were now looking for a way to get him married. His father, when sober, was a farmhand. But today, he was a drunk.

The big man stood over his small, petite wife, bellowing and screaming, while the poor women cowered away in a corner. "Not finish with the house work, will you! Here I am, working hard to provide food, and you stand around and let the dust gather, eh?"

Jay ran over, grabbing his father�s sleeve. "Father, Mother was tending to Jacob. He hurt himself playing-ooof!"

A winded Jay looked up from where his father had thrown him. "Stay out of this, boy!" he then turned back to his wife. "So, now you�re raising our sons to be disobedient whelps? I�ll teach you, wife!" He began to rain down heavy blows. Until he turned and grabbed a struggling Jay, who was trying to hit him. "Stop hitting Mother! Stop-"

Again he was cut off, this time by a right hook to his jaw. He landed, sprawled out on the floor. His father was on top of him in seconds, hitting him hard everywhere. "You ungrateful whelp!" the older man grunted.

The beating continued for what seemed like hours to Jay, but when he looked he saw his brothers pull there mother up. Then they walked away. "Help me!" he croaked, and he knew they heard him, because young Jacob turned and looked at him with frightened eyes, but their mother pulled him away. Then he passed out.

Jay�s eyes snapped open. It was over a thousand years ago, and it still affected him badly. So, the first step on his Road of Fate was his mother abandoning him to his drunken father, after he had tried to save her. That explained why he felt so angry with his current family. Not good. Now, what next.

Jay had been lying in the ditch for what seemed like forever, although it could have been hours or days, the way he had been slipping in and out of conciseness. Several people had left him for dead, which he was damned close to. Another coach was approaching. He tried to rise, but then his body exploded in pain, making him gasp instead of scream it would have been if it had been less pain, for at least that would have helped him.

Through the haze of pain he heard someone say, "Master, he still lives. Shall I leave him?"

Jay couldn�t here the response, but felt the powerful arms wrap around him and heave him off the ground. This time the pain was extraordinary, and he couldn�t help but pass out.

When he woke, he thought he had died. There was no pain, and he felt as though he was floating. Then he realised, he was in a big fluffy bed. He sat up, to see an old, old man, sitting in a padded chair. "Oh good, you�re awake. How nice. We have healed your injuries, and in case you have been wondering, you have been here for three days."

Jay looked at the man as though he had sprouted second, third and fourth heads. "Three days? My wounds, how have you healed them so fast?"

The old man smiled thinly. "Magic, boy. Do I get no thanks for my hard work, hey?"

Jay looked stumped for a few seconds, then "Th-thank you, sir. My name is-"

The old man waved him off impatiently. "Yes, yes, Jay, I know that already." He saw the look on the young boys face. "No, I did not use magic to probe your mind, child. You talked of many things for a while, as your leg became infected, and created a fever. It is also how I know how you ended up in that ditch. Tell me boy, would you like me to have your father punished? I can you know, for I am a powerful man."

The boy looked shocked. "No-o sir. If my father is punished, he will take it out on my mother."

"Ah, but your mother left you, did she not, to your father after you tried to save her?"

Jay looked away, and said, "Yes, sir, but she was frightened and hurt. And without my father, my brothers would starve." He looked at the old man, and fear was in his eyes this time. "Sir, why do you want me? Why have you helped me?"

The old man nodded. "Ahhh, so you finally got to that. What I want? I want an apprentice, boy. You know what I am?" Jay shook his head. "I am a necromancer. I use the dead for what ever I like. And so will you, soon."

Jay shuddered. There were many memories of his lessons, how the old man had started him off by teaching him the basics, then showed him how to reanimate bits of bodies, hands and legs at first, then heads, arms, legs, until finally he could raise a whole body, or zombie as his master called them. And many other creatures of the dead. But there was one more challenge for him. Raising a whole army�

Jay got up, and went to his kitchen, and poured himself a large shot of vodka and coke, with very little coke and a whole lot of vodka. He sipped it, still thinking. He had a vague idea of what happened next, but he needed to know more. He had to find out more. Setting his drink down, he returned to his chair. And picked up the sword.

Jay was standing by the grave of his master. He knew what he had to do. He had to kill those responsible for his masters death, the only man who had ever been good to Jay. He couldn�t have died from natural causes. He was too powerful. So who had killed him? They did a voice in his mind told him the ones who abandoned you, tried to kill you. They wish you have no happiness, ever. Yes, that made sense. He would show them, that now he was the greatest of all necromancers, that they could not harm him anymore. He set off for the town where he had been born.

Jay walked through the town. Four years ago he had been beaten and dragged off to die. Four days ago, he had poisoned the wells. But he had made sure it would not affect his blood kin. He had his other plans for them.

He ordered two off the biggest men, the blacksmith and his son, who had recently died, to rise again. They obeyed. And now, he thought, to see Them. He walked up to his door, and listened. He pressed his ear against the door. He could hear his father ranting. With a simple gesture, for simple gestures are all his creatures could understand, he ordered the door smashed in.

Stepping through the ruined archway, he found his father looking at him in stunned silence, his left fist still raised over his wife. "Ah, father, it is not at all pleasant to find nothing has changed."

His father turned to him. "Jay? No, He is dead. I left him in ditch to die."

Jay nodded. "Shame someone found me, isn�t it? Someone who actually cared for me. For your crimes, father, you will die the Death of a Thousand Cuts. Trust me, it hurts. Take him away." His farther charged at him, but one of Jay�s zombie guards grabbed him, and with the help of the other one, took him away.

Jay turned to his mother. "Well mother, do you wish to join me? Soon, me and my undead will rule this world. Or, you can choose my fathers fate."

The women looked at him, but when he reached for her, she screamed and turned away. He sighed. "So be it. You, and my former brothers, will be tortured to death for several days before I let you die. Goodbye, women."

Jay nearly threw up at what happened next in his memories. The torture had been long, and truly brutal, but that was just the beginning. After, he raised each corpse, so fresh the soul had no chance to escape. Trapped forever in dead bodies, his family was forced to serve their killer. Him. No one deserved that, not even that freak who used the monsters.

He quickly scanned over his next load of memories. They were mainly fighting, ending with the army of undead he had managed to create through hours of spell casting, being smashed by the Prince of the Realm, Endymion, his Generals, and some man called the Imperium Knight. He thought about the Knight for a second. He had seen him somewhere, or at least the sword, somewhere before. That Guardian person. Maybe he was a descendent? Oh, well. Time to watch the final chapter. The last few steps of his road.

Jay stood before Beryl, who was flanked by her new Generals. She was going on about how much more powerful they would be together and generally being dull.

Finally, Jay snapped. "Shut the hell up! Its all your fault, isn�t it? Everything that has happened to me, it was you! When I bring you back, you will be the foundation of my new army. My Generals. Prepare to die!"

Before he could move, Jedite was on him. He dodged the first attack, but the General was fast. And he had a sword. Jay dodged, ducked, weaved, striking back and withdrawing for what seemed like hours, although it was a matter of minutes, a life time in a fight. Finally, he got the General below the belt. As he crumpled, Jay laughed his triumph. The froze. There was a sword sticking out of his chest. A sword from behind. The Jedite on the ground vanished. It was an illusion. Jay collapsed, and after pouring all his energy to his wounds in an attempt to heal them, died.

Jay sat back. So, that was what happened. But, even this was not the finish. But, surely death was the end? Obviously not, since he was standing here, with the memories intact. Except this one. This one, he couldn�t quite grab. All he could get were a few words. But they were fading from his memory even as he thought about it. Quickly he wrote them down. When he had finished, they were no longer in his head. But the paper said this.

"Jay, through a Twist of Fate what was meant to happen didn�t. You were meant to be born in the Moon Kingdom, but this happened. Your powers of life were used for death. You will have one chance to save yourself from the pits of hell. Use it well."

*So*, thought Jay, *I have a chance. This must be it now. My chance to redeem my self.* To sort out the Twist of Fate that made him this way. He smiled. But would he be able to defeat a truly awesome enemy, that was the question. Could he beat himself?

The End