Death? Death is fine. I have no issues when I am dead. Death Itself is generally a great Being and friend of mine. My issue?
Life sucks and then you die. As the saying goes.
But for me, Life is the gift that keeps on giving.

Please excuse me for the pity-party, but I just died again after my life as a fish, which ended as I had my gills painfully slashed and I bled out, drowning in air. So, yeah, feeling a little bitter at the moment. -Being a fish was almost as fun as being reborn as some sort of bird, until I was caught in a trawler net.

Oh, it's time for me to land in the next body that should-have died.

Metaphorical fingers-crossed I can be something capable of intelligent conversation this time -fish are fun, but a fair bit limited on the stimulating conversation fro- agh! Ow.

This hurts more than usual. Shit. Why? What's wrong with my new body? This REALLY hurts. Ow Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it it stop. Make it stop. Ma-

The soul known as Leto in life escaped his body, to be replaced by an unfortunate Master of Death a moment later. (A Harry-is-Fenris fic).

Chapter 1

"The procedure seems to have been successful, Magister Danarius, although we almost lost him for a moment." A voice said somewhere above him as he slowly started to gain consciousness for the first time in this Life.

"Hmm, yes. I see the lyrium has settled in nicely. Excellent, I am satisfied this one proved to be a good investment, better than the others so far." A different voice replied, maybe this Magister, Danarius? "See to it the slave survives. Notify me at once should the lyrium begin to affect his condition or shows signs of instability." The voice continued.

"Yes, Magister Danarius." the first voice answered.

He whimpered in pain, unable to move or open his eyes. His whole body felt as if it were afire, a sizzling, bubbling, acidic burn racing across his skin.

Something was pressed to his lips, his mouth automatically opened to receive a cool, bitter liquid and he choked, but managed to swallow most of it. Some sort of potion? Whatever it was, it seemed to be of a positive sort, as the pain cooled to a more bearable level. -Still intense, but now more extreme discomfort instead of blinding agony. Exhausted, he drifted back to sleep in relief.

Some time later, several instances of periods of conscious agony, then the administration of more treatments, food, bathing and bandaging, then more sleep, and throughout being weaker than a newborn runt, he finally awoke with enough clarity and strength to move freely and comprehend the world around him.

This... had been the worst start to a new 'Life' in a long while. Worse than the time he'd awoken as a frozen lump of a brainwashed assassin.

Opening his eyes he sat up and slowly took stock of his environment properly for the first time. He was lying on a clean straw pallet in some sort of underground chamber. There was a thick cloying, metallic smell of blood lingering in the air. The cobbled stone floor was clean and free of debris and the room was cool and empty at present. Satisfied he was safe at least for the moment, he stretched out his limbs in front of him. Every joint was stiff and he ached everywhere. His skin felt tight and painful under the bandages that covered most of his skin. He was naked barring the bandages. Lovely.

He had two feet and two hands so this time he was some sort of bipedal being this time. -He always preferred being closer to his 'First' Life's body. He had long lost any strong feelings over gender, he knew he was male this time but depending on the culture or society, every gender brought with it it's own range of potential issues. Being male sometimes was just as bad as being female in reached up and felt his face, noting short stubble of a shaved head under bandages and long, pointed ears. Not human then. But he felt no horns, crests, tentacles, fur, scales or feathers, he had two eyes, a nose and a mouth with close to human teeth and his skin was smooth. Maybe he was a vulcan? From what he could tell, his eyesight was more acute than a humans, as were his sense of smell and hearing. Although he supposed he would have to wait to find out what the norms were in this place.

Dismissing his explorations for now, he reached out for the jug he'd spied that was filled with water. Taking a deep few gulps, he quenched his thirst and considered the situation.

From the little information he had so far, he realised he was some sort of slave. He assumed the 'procedure' mentioned to be the source of his current pain and the cause of death for the original owner of the body. Others were mentioned that hadn't survived, and the substance 'lyrium' was involved.

Hmm, well. This probably wasn't the most favourable environment to stay in while he recuperated further and found out more about his new life.

Settling into a semi-meditative state. He attempted to reach for one of the aspects bound into his soul -his veil of invisibility. Traversing age-old avenues of his power and reaching for the power easily.

Only to be stopped! He gasped and choked, a tight band of pinching metal around his neck and electricity racing through his body, immobilising his body and causing twitching and spasms, while he lost any focus or ability to think past the shock.

Eternal moments later, the collar loosened to an innocuous and previously unnoticed band around his throat once again. Panting for breath, sitting leaning against the wall for support, he considered the problem. Some sort of suppression collar? But why would he have one? He had already noticed that this body lacked the ability to harness the magic present in this world, so this sort of binding should be wasted on a mundane slave. Maybe he was missing something?

Footsteps echoed behind the only door within the chamber, drawing his attention, before he heard a quiet click in the lock and the door swung open on silent hinges to reveal several figures striding in and towards him. He guessed the collar has alerted someone somehow as well. Darn.

At the front of the group was a bearded man in rich, expensive looking clothing with icy cold eyes that clinically catalogued his body. At his side was a dark haired woman with a petulant expression, dismissing him with a derisive sneer. At both sides of them were muscular men armed with swords sheathed at their sides. Finally, nearly hidden by the rest was a diminutive being in simple clothes, downcast eyes, long pointed ears and hunched shoulders, the thin silver band at the throat denoting another possible slave.

Electing to stay quiet, he attempted to maintain a neutral expression as he chose to look at the man who he guessed to be the leader of this group and base his response off his actions.

"Hmm, well I see you are finally awake. Do not draw on the lyrium again until I allow it." He commanded, before continuing, "Although I'm sure you now know why you will be unable to either way. The specialised collar at your throat I designed to suppress your power until I deem it suitable. Ah, you look confused, surely you knew to expect this?" There was the beginning of a sly smirk tugging at the man's lips.

He hadn't changed expression.

Maybe this man expected his lack of understanding about lyrium? Or was it something else?

Well regardless, he went with his usual approach: Amnesia.

Since he didn't know the body he inhabited or the people or world in which he now lived in, affecting a loss of memory was a surprisingly effective method of avoiding suspicion when coupled with his soul's habit of jumping into bodies that should be dead.

"Who are you?" he asked, a deep, if sore and rough voice sounding from his mouth. "Where am I? Who am I?" he questioned. Slave or no, people usually accepted bluntness from those with amnesia.

And it was true, rather than look offended by the questions, the man looked delighted. Although the little slave had flinched away, the woman's frown had grown and the guard's hands has twitched into fists, looking angry. Ignoring them the man answered

"I am your Master, Magister Danarius, of The Tevinter Imperium in my estate within the city of Minrathous. This here is my Apprentice Hadriana." He said gesturing to the dark haired woman. He didn't introduce the others but then he didn't expect that.

"And you belong to me... Fenris." Danarius finished, with a smug smile and air of satisfaction.