Flaming Immortality

[WP] "But I'm your direct descendant! Which means I'm fated to defeat you!" "Kid, I'm ten thousand years old. Everyone in the kingdom is my direct descendant. You're nothing special."

*****

With his last mortal breath, Elgathar the Ferocious screamed as the eternal flames absorbed him. His once-brown eyes flickered to a vibrant red. He grinned in delight. There was no need for an elixir of life, after all. Immortality was gained in a different way.

It was glorious, for the first century or so, flaunting his self-made power over all else and conquering the lands. He forged a kingdom, which became an empire, and within 186 years and 43 days of his immortal life, the entire globe was obeying his rule. First, he was cruel. Then he was benevolent. Then he was cruel again - after all, niceness was not in his repertoire of common personality traits. Time continued on, as it tended to do, and as centuries became millennia, Elgathar the Ferocious decided it would be best to live a more simple life, treating days and decades as little, self-contained treasures. He left the world in a half-decent state and lived in the mountains.

Prophecies popped up, stating how Elgathar would be defeated by his direct descendant. It was a cause for concern in his early decades when he committed a paranoid genocide on people he thought were his brood, where he abstained from creating more for a century more. Still, one or two could have escaped. Eventually, he gave up on being scared. There was no point, really. He gave up his vow of chastity also because Elgathar the Ferocious was the sort of person who liked that sort of thing every few years - or months - or decades... Time was difficult to keep track of, especially when your mind was meant for no more than a century's worth. Ah well.

Ten thousand years passed since Elgathar defied death. A young, brave-faced teenager knocked on his door in his cabin atop the mountains. To come all this way to visit him - how nice. So polite too, to knock. The teenager had learned of the immortal soul who once ravished and caused such carnage on the lands in history class, and had learned too of the prophecies about direct descendants. One look at the family tree led the teenager to believe they were destined to slay Elgathar the Ferocious, then claim a large bounty or something else cool.

Elgathar opened the door. Looked down.

"Hello. What's your name? Did you come all this way by yourself?" He asked, in a voice that hadn't been used for 106 years.

"Ash, sir. Which is what you'll be soon enough. I challenge you to a duel!" The teenager said, in a quivering yet confident voice.

"Must we? I've just popped the potatoes on. Oh, very well... To the death, I suppose?" Elgathar was rather bored with the prophecy, leading certain individuals to think they were special. Only last eclipse there was someone else on the mountain pass, who'd died trying to get to him. 300 years ago as well, there'd been quite a few duels. He didn't win every one of them but was pretty decent. Also not being able to die was rather handy in those sorts of things.

"Yes, to the death. At sundown! Out here! I will be ready for you." Ash said. They were secretly doubting everything by now, but to die a glorious death would be better than becoming a cabbage merchant like their father in their mind.

Sundown came. Ash stood confidently, the wind blowing through their hair, with a proud expression due to the cause they thought was righteous. Elgathar shuffled out of his hut and drew a dagger, a tiny, rusted thing compared to Ash's elegant sword, but it was sharp and good at peeling spuds.

"Are you absolutely certain you want to do this to the death?" Elgathar asked, worried for this teen.

"Hah, yes! You have heard of the prophecy, then! You are afraid of me!"

With a shrug that said 'let's get this over with, the immortal bowed, respectfully. Hopefully, dueling had not changed in a few millennia, else he just left his neck vulnerable for no reason. The kid bowed also. Good.

Elgathar stepped forth and swiftly plunged the dagger into the teen's neck. Blood pooled. The kid choked, but still tried to slash at him. Missed. Missed again. Chopped off an arm, that'd take a while to grow back.

Finally, Ash relented. He screamed in despair and pain.

"But I'm your direct descendant! Which means I'm fated to defeat you!"

"Kid, I'm ten thousand years old. Everyone in the kingdom is my direct descendant. You're nothing special."

With that, Elgathar pulled Ash up and brought out a lighter from his pocket.

"You've got guts, though. Do you wish to survive this, die in agony but with some semblance of glory - or whatever you want to justify it, or never die again? Choose quickly, you don't have long."

"Live." The frightened teen declared, as their eyes glazed over.

Elgathar used the lighter, summoning the eternal flame, to heal the singular wound he inflicted. Life returned to the kid.

"Live, but not forever, right? Trust me, you don't want to - but now your neck is kind of invulnerable. Yeah." Elgathar said, reassuring young Ash, who was soon sent on their way.

Another ten thousand years passed. There'd been plenty more descents that challenged him. All who visited he offered immortality to, mostly out of boredom than any noble ideal, but each one declined. Well, one or two didn't, one of which spent several centuries trying to kill him, but eventually they all settled down. Eventually, one descendant decided to simply push Elgathar off a cliff, into the tundra and call it a day. Turns out that counted as defeating, mostly because the immortality born of fire would be quenched by water, doubly so with a lot of snow.

And so ends this tale of immortality and fate.

*****

THE END