Chapter 36

Meaningless Struggle

"My lord, please!"

— Medieval Russia —

A group of peasants huddled together closely, dressed in filthy and tattered rags that were a stark contrast to the pristine gothic architecture that made up the vast majority of the audience chamber they stood in. In front of the peasants seated on an imposing throne, listening to their pleas with a disinterested look, was Koschei in the prime of his life.

"Lord Koschei. While your soldiers pillage our home for resources. We, your humble serfs, all starve and suffer in squalor!" The leader of this motley group, a wizened shaman, pleaded with him in desperation, "Our livestock and crops have been all but depleted for your war effort, and whatever we do have is barely enough to get by! Please, my lord, I implore you! Cease this meaningless violence."

Koschei scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically, "Ugh, of course you serf wouldn't understand the design of my grand vision. What are now a few ravaged slums will be something far greater once my conquest has brought back all their spoils and riches, you and your descendants will live like KINGS!"

"And should your fool's quest fail?" The shaman implored angrily, "What will it all be for then? I have lived under your family's rule my entire life! But never once have I seen for myself the salvation you promise us!"

Koschei groaned in annoyance, "Yes, such is the nature of risk. Do not fret, should this campaign fail, I can always launch another one. Rest assured, your homes will be rebuilt… eventually."

The look of disgust on the shaman's face was indescribable, "YOU BEAST! You think we care about those material things? Homes can be rebuilt, lives cannot! Everyday we struggle in the fields, providing for our fellow people, whilst you lounge up here unbothered. And now we must deal with famine on top of it all due to your neverending lust for more!"

"You just don't understand." Koschei replied with a dismissive wave, signaling for his guards to take the peasants away. "Through war and conquest, I shall grow the borders of my land till it encompasses all! While you lot are to provide substance for my troops to do so. Don't you see? I'm giving your meager lives meaning, to serve in my glorious purpose! What more could you want than that?"

The shaman spat on the polished marble floor, glaring at Koschei, "Unbelievable… You are not a ruthless warmonger like I presumed, you are a delusional FOOL! Curses upon you, Koschei. One day… ONE DAY! Perhaps you will understand. But till that day, you will be followed by the shadow of DEATH!"

Koschei shook his head as he watched the guards drag the peasants out of his audience chamber, "Why won't they see, not only am I giving them purpose. I'm ensuring they'll never have to struggle again! My, what shortsighted subjects I have…"

All of a sudden, Koschei felt a chill run down his spine as the temperature of the entire room seemed to drop, "W-why, is it so cold…?" He whimpered, glancing from side to side. At that moment , out of the corner of his eyes. Koschei witnessed shadows seeming to gather and converge, covering the walls in darkness as they slowly merged and shifted to form a humanoid shape. The being stood still in one corner of the room, facing him with a face devoid of any orifices or features… All of a sudden, a pair of wings burst out of the entity's back, as talons emerged from bony fingers. Opening its eyes, two red orbs burning with a predatory light stared at Koschei, boring a hole through his soul. The entity did not move a single inch, but still did Koschei scream.

…

That was how Koschei, a mere feudal lord, came to be plagued by the ominous Death Deity Chernabog. A punishing curse for his greed and lack of empathy, to live with the constant knowledge that at any moment, his end could somehow arrive and the entity could claim his prize. This would lead him to Baba Yaga, and obtaining the secret of immortality, so that he might be free of Chernabog's curse. Hiding his soul within a chest, Koschei became nigh unkillable. Not only granting him the freedom he sought, but allowing him to dominate and expand his rule across the land with ease, as a deathless warlord whose flesh could not be pierced by neither sword nor spear.

Koshei was on top of the world, his empire stretched far and wide, but there was still so much left for him to conquer! But his incredible success came at a cost. Far and wide, his fellow feudal lords seethe in envy, who did this Koschei think he was? Coming out of nowhere and stealing their land? It should have been them who did the conquering! Fueled by resentment, these lords raised their armies and joined forces, storming Koschei's castle, looking to put an end to the Deathless' reign.

Koschei's immortality, a tremendous asset on the battlefield. Was rendered useless now that his castle, the very place the chest containing his soul was hidden, was under assault. The endless waves of foes made it ever more likely that his weakness would be discovered, and should that happen… Well, Chernabog had spent the last few decades staring daggers at Koschei each time he survived a blow that would have definitely killed him. Should he be given the chance, the Death Deity would most likely finish the job.

Left with no other choice. Koschei grabbed ahold of his precious chest, fleeing into the refuge of the deep dark woods, abandoning his troops, riches and castle. "I'll reclaim it all," he growled as he raced through the thick foliage, "This is but a mere setback… I'll simply gather my forces anew, and reclaim everything I've lost today, and MORE! Until I've done so… I will NEVER be content!"

Bursting into a clearing, Koschei blinked as to allow his eyes to adjust to the sudden presence of light. In front of him stood a tiny village, small and worn, its cobbled streets uneven and its wooden houses crooked from years of weathering. Men dragged their tools behind them, returning home sweaty and tired from a hard day's work in the field. Their wives, equally exhausted from taking care of things back home, stood waiting for their husbands return alongside their children.

Poverty evident in the threadbare clothes of the villagers, the soot and sweat on their bodies disgusted Koschei to no end. "Such meaningless lives these people lead!" He thought, as he watched the villagers with a pitying look, "Struggling everyday for nothing, how they ever could be content with such a meager existence is beyond me!" But as Koschei continued to watch, his contemptuous gaze soon turned to one of confusion. For though the villagers were undoubtedly living in misery and squalor, the expressions on their faces told a far different tale.

Breaking away from their mothers side, children rushed forwards into the arms of their fathers who scooped them up and held them close, smiles of pure elation were plastered across every villager's face as laughter filled the air. Still holding onto their children, the men walked over to their wives, lovingly embracing them as well. Countless families, despite their miserable circumstances, all somehow shared in this tender moment so blissfully, why?

Koschei watched on in disbelief as the villagers made their way over to the center of their town. There stood a humble hearth crackling with a warm flame that cast a golden glow in the evening sky, more villagers tended the fire, waiting for the rest of their neighbors with a wide spread of food. In no way were the meals look as delectable or refined as the ones Koschei had back home, yet the aroma of the freshly made dishes, no matter how simple, had a smell more delicious that anything the feudal lord ever had in his life.

Laughter could be heard echoing through the night sky, as villagers sat down to eat as a community. Children played with sticks and stones, while their parents shared smiles and hearty conversation amongst one another. The scent, the sounds, the people… despite all the hardships in life, everything came together to create a humble home cherished by all who were fortunate enough to live there.

Koschei staggered backwards in confusion, how could those peasants be so… content? All they knew was struggle and uncertainty, and all of it would ultimately be for nothing! Meaningless! Whereas he, a mighty feudal lord, was born into a glorious destiny of conquest and riches! So why did they wear such happy smiles upon their face when he never did? How could they be so satisfied with their lot? He didn't understand, he couldn't understand.

Turning around, Koschei found Chernabog standing as still as the trees around them, Baba yaga's spell prohibiting him from coming any closer. From his spot where the gnarled branches of the woods stretched into the plain, the Death Deity glared at Koschei, eyes blazing with resentment.

"I've lived for centuries now, borned and raised with a silver spoon in my mouth," Koschei said in a shaky voice, "Anything I desired, I had. My ever command, answered. Yet, in spite of all the material possessions and prestige I've acquired throughout my life… none have ever come close to bringing me such content before… so warm, so vibrant, I can even sense it from all the way here."

Chernabog jerked his head unnaturally to the side, "And how can you?" He answered scornfully. "When you cannot understand… meaning behind struggles…? These mere serfs… though living in squalor, have found meaning in their hardships… The men… may toil relentlessly in the fields for hours… but they are content… for they know their hardships will keep their families fed… The women… struggle to care for their rowdy spawn… but they know… their love nurtures them like water to a sapling… And the children? Perhaps now they live life in bliss… but in time, they too shall find their own struggles and meaning as well."

Chernabog took a step forward, causing Koschei to flinch, "You… always desired more… how could you appreciate what you have…? When faced at last with adversity… you sought magic to alleviate your burden… Why should you feel content…? You speak of glorious purpose… yet all I see is an empty man… with less meaning in life than the humble serfs he despises… all I see… is a dead man walking... Prey..."

Koschei looked down at the chest clenched tightly against his body, before looking up at Chernabog and back to the village again. He had everything, they did not. He was empty, they were not. His attention focusing on the chest that contained his soul once more, the feudal lord let out a shaky breath.

"I always believed…" He said, struggling to his feet, "that struggle was meaningless, that hardship was the common man's mistake, that the greatest meaning of all, was the glory of accomplishment. But now, I fear… could I be wrong? Have I deprived myself of life's greatest meaning, by running from it all? If so…" Koschei held the chest high above his head, surprising even Chernabog, whose eyes widened as he watched.

"I WANT NOTHING MORE TO DO WITH IMMORTALITY!"

With that, Koschei let the chest slip from his grasp. Slowly and silently, it descended to the ground, shattering against the grass with what sounded like a sigh of relief. From the fragments and pieces, the glowing orb that was Koschei's soul ascended into the air. It hovered a few seconds, before soaring through the air and landing against his chest, melting seamlessly into his skin.

With a roar of triumph, Chernabog rushed forward, no longer barred by the confines of Baba Yaga's spell. His talons outstretched, tearing deep into Koschei's feeble flesh and bursting out the other side in an explosion of blood and innards. Koschei let out a strangled cough as he slumped against a nearby tree, leaving behind crimson stains on the bark as he slid down its trunk. The dying man gazed weakly at the village in the distance, its inhabitants still joyous as ever, completely unaware of the gruesome violence nearby.

"To have another chance to find meaning, to actually feel content. Even if just for a moment…" Koschei lamented weakly with his dying breath, as his eyes slowly closed, "I would truly… give up everything."

…

(Present Day)

"You've… changed…" Chernabog grumbled, "Tell me… how is it you feel content… when you are closest to death… than you've ever been before?"

Koschei blinked, before chuckling, "Heh, funny isn't it? The foolish lord from all those years ago, who could care less about his subjects… now fighting to safeguard humanity's future? Oh the irony." With a grunt of effort, the old man staggered back to his feet, turning to properly face Chernabog.

"I see it clearly now," Koschei said with a grin, "to struggle and learn, that is what gives life meaning. Sitting on an empty throne, waiting for everything to be served to me on a silver platter, without a fight… How could that ever compare to this moment? I may be putting my life on the line, but for once! I'm actually challenging myself, giving it my all. Not to gain, just simply risking limb and bone to make it out alive! I may be knocking on death's door, but I finally… FINALLY have meaning! Shouldn't the rest of humanity have the chance to experience it too?"

Chernabog lowered his head, staring deep into Koschei's eyes, the child-like determination within them, shone through even the milkiest cataracts. Slowly the Death Deity leaned back, arms and talons twitching as he let out another rattling sigh… before erupting into slow laughter, the sinister tone prevalent in Chernabog's voice now absent.

"You really aren't the same whelp back then…" As he spoke, parts of Chernabog's body began dissolving into wisps of black smoke. Drawn towards Koschei's scythe, gathering, coiling around it till the staff was half concealed. "You weren't for a long time… I just refused to admit it… Very well then, old fool… allow me to help you show this god… What it truly means to be DEATHLESS!"

With that, the remainder of the Death Deity turned into a swirling mass of shadows, leaping onto Koschei's scythe and covering it in a tornado of darkness. Across the arena, Set snarled, shielding his eyes from the dark aura emanating off Koschei's weapon. His sandstorm buffeted by the intense pressure of it. In a burst of what sounded chillingly like human shrieks, Chernabog's darkness dispersed, revealing Koschei's scythe now fully covered from the top to bottom, in the same shadowy soul magic used by him prior. Swirling around the old man's forearm and ankles, were more of the stuff. Flickering and blazing, they created the image of ominous black flames swirling around Koschei's arms and legs.

Göll let out a gasp of familiarity, "T-this feeling… this aura… it's… it's!"

"Exactly like when your sisters did it with the first generation of Einherjar!" Prometheus finished with a grin, "There's no denying it, what Koschei has with Chernabog right now is…"

"VOLUNDR: VECHNOST CONTENT!"

All of a sudden, Set launched a bolt of lightning towards Koschei, the fallen prince's attempt to cut his opponent down before he could make use of this new power. As the bolt whizzed through the air, a cold tingle ran down Koschei's spin, whispering to him the incoming strike. On instinct, Koschei's arm shot upwards. The combination of it and his scythe's handle parrying the lightning bolt entirely, the soul magic surrounding both insulating the deadly electricity entirely.

Koschei whistled, twirling his new scythe around and pointing it towards his opponent, "Hehehe! Now this isn't half bad, old nuisance! Now then, fallen prince, seems like we're both playing our best hand now. Time for us to move on to the finale, don't you think?"

Set narrowed his eyes. Tilting his head upwards, the fallen prince caught his family's eye. Isis, still bitter, looked down with her arms crossed. Horus attempted an air of bored nonchalance, but was clearly invested in the fight. Last of course was Nephthys, though his wife wore a poker face, the way her hands were tightly clasped and the worry that shone in her eyes, told Set a different story.

The fallen prince exhaled, clashing his two saber blades together with a loud "BANG!" mixing the elements once more. Red glass precipitates were produced, floating around Set as they pointed their jagged edges menacingly towards Koschei.

Pointing with his blade, Set said nothing as he stared daggers at the old man, Koschei grinned in response, raising his own staff. No words were spoken, but the message between the two foes were evident,

"You're going down!"