[Cards] Underworld Asphodel Regalia (Patreon)

For years, we complied to the shackle of mortality that had been placed on us by the greater powers. Looking down upon us with enough disdain to allow us to die whilst jealously guarding immortality for themselves. Why was it fair for them to withhold eternity from us, just because we were born human? It was no wonder that at the first moment we could, we forsook them for the only being who could shatter our shackles: the Deathless.

The Deathless was the power that ruled the Underworld. We begged the Deathless to let us live. We begged for freedom from the emptiness of death. We wailed the lamentations of our souls and laid our breasts bare for the Deathless. We slashed our arms and spilled our blood. For years did we pine for the Deathless' attention, suffering every innumerable pain endurable by our fragile mortal shells. Yet even with all this, the Deathless remained silent.

With naught but a heart determined to see our people weep no more, one from amongst our number declared that if the Deathless would turn a deaf ear to us, then he would force the Deathless to hear our demands. He would walk alone, and stride the path to the very Underworld itself. There, he, burdened with the yolk of our sorrows, would find a cure for death.

We assured him that his intent was steeped with madness, but his will was iron, and before the first light of the next dawn, he departed us. We never expected his return.

It was not until a year and a day had passed did we see him again. He looked unwell; sickly pale and devoid of all but the bleakest of emotions. Yet, he strode home atop a glinting chariot of silver pulled by a black stallion, head held high and clothed in macabre finery. What's more...he had not returned alone. His chariot was trailed closely by a retinue of pale figures most familiar to us. Our fathers & mothers. Our grandfathers & grandmothers. Our great grandfathers & great grandmothers. Generations of our long passed family, right up to our thrice-great grandparents, followed behind the one that survived the realm of the Deathless...and they were smiling. He had done what he promised. He had found a cure for death.

Such a feeling of euphoria enveloped our beaten hearts, that all at once we fell to our knees as he passed, and pressed our heads to the ground with reverence. For three days after, and for the first time in years, we celebrated. Wine was drunk, feasts were eaten, and songs were sung.

When the celebration of the return had ended, it was followed by a coronation of He Who Conquered Death. Though he was born low and though he did refuse at first, we agreed to place the laurel of the people atop his head, for only one who had trod the paths of the Underworld was worthy to be our king.

—Excerpt from Chapter VI: The King of the Underworld from Tales of Ages Long Past by Alder Drycholn.