The Exchange: Audition

"Eless, my arm appears to be missing," Sir Godfrey said as he stood at the centre of a pile of corpses. Numerous limbs lay scattered about but only one of them belonged to someone still alive.
"Oh, so it does," a little girl replied, "how unfortunate." She was standing outside the ring of minutes-dead goblins, surveying the scene with quiet indifference. Idly she kicked a gnarled and bloody head and watched it roll a few yards in the long grass of the forest clearing. A casual observer might have been shocked at the sight of two large wings protruding from her back, fluttering slightly in the breeze; but an observer with slightly more questionable intent would be yet more shocked by the fact she was stark naked.
"Mmm, indeed, it's most inconvenient," the broad-shouldered and inexplicably blackened man spoke as he clutched the stump of his shoulder which was now bleeding profusely. He looked quite a state in his soot-covered, battered armour and completely asymmetrical face - one eyebrow completely scorched off with patches of hair both on his head and chin missing too. "Can you perhaps regenerate it?"
"Of course I can regenerate it," the little fairy scoffed, rolling her eyes, "You think an Archmage of eight hundred years doesn't have it within her power to fix something as trivial as a missing limb? Whether I want to or not, now that's a different question entirely."
"Pah!" the man spat, noticeably irritated, "If you don't come regenerate my arm right now, I'll ask Izumi to put you in that little pink dress I know she loves to see you wear."

At the sound of this the little fairy's eyes widened in horror, "Don't you dare Molotov! I'll ram this wand right up your arse if you so much as call her over!"
"When given the choice between not being able to sit down for a few weeks and certain death by blood loss, I know which one I'd choose," he responded dryly, "Now get over here and give me my arm back already!"

The fairy scowled with such intensity Molotov thought she would burn a hole in the back of his skull. But after a few moments she begrudgingly fluttered over a mound of corpses and landed next to him, just managing to dodge a spray of blood from the stump at his shoulder. She spread her hands a few inches from the wound and a pale white light flooded out. The light grew stronger, engulfing the shoulder entirely and Molotov was forced to look away as the intensity threatened to blind him. Warmth slowly began to overtake the numbing pain and after almost half an hour he looked back to see a fresh, naked arm. It looked almost as if a small child had pulled an arm from one doll and stuck it onto another, such was the way the new, pink flesh contrasted with the dark, leathery tanning of the rest of his body.

There was a rustling and both heads turned to see a woman running out of the underbrush at the edge of the clearing. Her face was half concealed by a tight-fitting black mask that also covered part of her neck but her mouth was free.
"I heard a strange, mechanical rumbling deep within the forest," she addressed them, "I fear it may be some diabolical goblin contraption that I have no intention of facing. We should leave here, did you manage to collect those herbs you so desperately needed?" the 'desperately' was long and drawn-out, dripping with sarcasm.
"Ah yes, hmm, I believe I do," Molotov replied thoughtfully, stroking his irregular beard, "I'd almost forgotten in all the excitement of being jumped by these little buggers," he gave one of the corpses near his feet a solid kick to add emphasis.
"Uh, guys," the little fairy interrupted, "about that contraption," she was pointing to the edge of the clearing.

Sure enough, amidst the bushes and foliage of the forest stood a strange machine. It was like a couple of metal boxes on wheels. And strange wheels they were too - also metal but with a remarkable black substance around the edges. Molotov first figured the metal to be burnt and sooty but ruled it out due to the regularity of the black coating and its apparent thickness. The box at the front appeared to have a shiny, clear material at the front. It looked almost like glass but it was far smoother than any he'd ever seen, even amongst his instruments of alchemy back at his workshop. Despite the material being transparent, the interior of the box was shrouded by the shade of the trees.

"I say, those goblins are a damn inventive bunch aren't they?" Molotov chuckled incredulously.

The three stood quietly, a little on guard, eyeing the mysterious machine, expecting at any moment a goblin attack. Nothing happened. Then, without warning, a slice of metal broke off the side of the machine and swung outwards on hinges. The fairy fluttered back a few feet, startled by the movement and Izumi drew a shuriken from her belt. But, instead of a horde of goblins swarming out of their container, a man stepped out. He was dressed in very odd attire but it was unquestionably a man nonetheless.

The trio relaxed slighty and Izumi tilted her head curiously as the man approached.

"That's quite a machine you've got there good sir, are you an inventor of some sort perchance?" Molotov addressed the man as he neared them.
"Yeah, she's quite a machine indeed," the mysterious man called back, "As for an inventor?" he laughed, "I've been called many things but an inventor is not one of them." Eventually he reached them, "I'm Death," he said, holding out his hand.
"Ah, Death, of course, nice to meet you," Molotov shook the offered hand vigorously, "I daresay I've been on your doorstep a number of times already," he chuckled, looking the man up-and-down, taking note of the vibrant colours he wore. "Although," he added, musing, "I always expected a more... skeletal Death. You know, black, flowing robes, giant scythe. That sort of thing."
"Yeah, I get that a lot," Death replied simply.
"So, if you don't mind my asking, why are you here exactly? Did Elessima's little Regeneration spell back there not work properly?" Molotov asked.
"Oh no, no, don't worry, you're not dead." Death patted him on the shoulder, "I'm just here to present you with an offer."
"Sounds interesting..."
"You see, I've got a little tournament I'm organising down in the Underworld. The prize for which is the resurrection of a soul of your choice. Just one soul mind you but I'll be sure to bring you all back here and you can carry on as normal, minus one death."
"Oh that's quite an offer indeed." Molotov grinned, "I'm sure people would positively kill for a chance like that, if you'll excuse the irony," he began stroking his beard again, "I'm not sure why you picked me though, I can't think of anyone in particular I'd want to resurrect."
"Ah then, perhaps this will jog your memory," Death lifted up the front of his hat and his eyes met Molotov's. Molotov could feel himself being pulled into their inky depths, he tried to look around to see how his companions were faring but found he couldn't break loose from Death's stare.

He blinked. He was in his workshop back at the mansion. However he seemed to be floating above it, it looked quite different when seen from the top. Looking around he could see the ghostly images of Death, Izumi and Elessima floating beside him as if swimming in the air. His eyes flicked downwards as he heard a click and saw himself, his real self perhaps, enter the room.  He saw himself wander over to a desk in the corner of the room and carefully arrange some apparatus. There was a wooden bowl filled with a black, powdery substance which he placed next to a glass beaker containing an unlabeled chemical. After sniffing the beaker, satisfied, he walked away and began arranging other things in the room. Pouring chemicals, crushing plants, he was absorbed in his work that he didn't notice Yenea enter the half-open door to the workshop.

Molotov's heart sank, he knew what was about to happen, this memory had replayed itself in his mind so many times before. Yenea, his best friend and most loved companion, wandered silently through the rows of desks laden with equipment and reached the corner of the room that past-Molotov had previously visited. There was nothing grand about her death, no noble sacrifice or betrayal - it was actually rather messy. She hopped up onto the table to sit and in the process knocked over the beaker containing the strange chemical, it crashed over and splashed into the bowl of the black substance. It hissed for a few moments before violently exploding. The explosion caused several more around the workshop as volatile substances ignited in a chain reaction. Past-Molotov was thrown through a wall and landed heavily, various parts of his aflame. After some frenzied rolling in the grass he found himself mostly unharmed however. Yenea was not so lucky. All that he found left of her was a tooth.

Molotov heard a gasp as the floating Izumi beside him witnessed the violent explosion. But the scene soon faded away and Molotov stumbled, again finding himself in the forest clearing, under the sunlight.

"You're right of course," Molotov said sadly, "she's dead because of my incompetence, I must rescue her given this opportunity."
"Heh, I thought you'd change your tune," Death said, "and, you know, if you want, you can bring these guys with you too," he added, pointing to Elessima and then Izumi.
"Well, I think that's their choice, not mine," he shrugged and looked at Izumi, "Do you feel like traveling to the Underworld a little early?"
"Pff, don't make it sound like I have a choice, of course I'm coming with you," she scoffed. Molotov simply nodded, smiling, and then looked at Elessima.
"We're saving Yenea? That little bitch?" the little fairy spat, "Yeah sure, I'd love to resurrect her just so I can kill her myself."
"Excellent, it's settled then, if you three would like to hop into my truck over there, we can be on our way immediately."
"Ah, a truck, so that's what you call it," Molotov muttered to himself as he followed Death into the front metal box, admiring the smoothness of the glass.

"You might want to strap your daughter in there, driving can be dangerous" Death indicated to some strange black straps with a single metal tooth attached loosely to each of them.
"I'm not his daughter, asshole!" Elessima snapped, fuming.
"Now, now dear, be a good little girl and do as the man says, we wouldn't want anything to happen to that cute little face of yours," Izumi beamed at the little fairy as she sat, arms crossed.
"Suck my wand, bitch!" the fairy spat back, refusing to touch the strap offered to her.
Molotov simply burst out laughing.