//Author Note: Try reading: Bloody Æther | Scribble Hub //
Thayne, Leech, and Parker stand behind me quietly staring at my back, judging me. I hold down my shuddering breathing. Ruby is right, and I am here to learn, but did she have to do this to me?
I just know that they’re sharing looks and gesturing to each other, communicating in ways that I can’t understand even if I was paying close attention. They’re keeping more of a distance from me now that they know, and I know that they’re picturing me as some terrible villain.
Are they going to try and kill me? Or are they more like Lothar and the others, quietly thinking bad things about me, but not ready to put a knife through my back?
Ruby promised that I’d be safe, so I don’t know why these people were chosen to help me down here. Couldn’t they have found more people like Ruby and Semi, they don’t mind my magic at all, and I know that there must be more people like them in this city.
Instead, they’ve brought these mercenaries. People that hate me now that they know what I am. People that will try to kill me, just to make sure that necromancy doesn’t come back.
I’m safe alone with the skeletons and undead, rather than in their company, but now isn’t the time to ask Ruby why she brought them here with us.
“You’re a necromancer?” Rindel asks as I probe him with my magic. Usually, slipping into the mind of a corpse, their memories appear right in my own mind, just floating there when I want to reach out for them. The memories that aren’t damaged and decayed, at least. This time is different. It’s more like dealing with the vampires, his memories are protected by a shield too powerful for me to break through.
“Hmm, you’re an amateur?” he asks. “Henry was always far gentler with his magic.”
I withdraw, stepping back and thinking about what I felt inside of him.
“You’re like the vampires,” I say, nodding to myself. I can still use my magic on him, and I can probably force new orders on him, but I can’t get access to his memories.
“Vampires?”
“Undead that are still people,” I say. “They drink blood and make other vampires. You feel a lot like they do.”
“I’ve never heard of such things,” Rindel shakes his head. “I’m not the most well-informed, so I can’t say that they weren’t around in my day.”
“Can you teach me?” I ask, staring into his dead eyes. All the magic that I’ve learned, I’ve taught myself and only now, seeing just how much a proper necromancer can do, can I start to notice all the things that I’ve been doing wrong. I feel like I’ve been pushing a cart sideways, all this time.
“I’d make for a rather poor tutor,” Rindel says, shaking his head to me, but still smiling warmly. “I know some, and I’ve read through the journals kept here, hoping that I could learn how to manipulate myself. It’s impossible, and all those notes are meant for someone who can already use the magic, it doesn’t help me to figure out how to first cast it.
“Give me a moment to collect them for you,” Rindel says, standing and stepping into a backroom. “I’ve kept them in good condition just in case of a situation such as this.”
As he steps away we’re left in the company of our mercenary guards, they’ve given up speaking out against my magic but I just know that they’re still thinking about it. Now when they look at me, they don’t see Syr, they see a dirty necromancer. Something despicable. Something evil.
I don’t like keeping secrets from people, but this is one secret that I need to keep, just because most people will react the same way, if not worse.
I just know that they’re going to spread rumours when we get out of here, even if they’re good people. I’ve spent enough time in the merc guild to know that when they get gloomy and filled with drinks most people will start to say things they shouldn’t.
What happens when the secret gets out?
“You’re safe,” Ruby says, rubbing my shoulder and smiling down at me.
“I’m a man of my word, and I’m not going to cause you any problems,” Thayne says, speaking slowly and carefully, thinking over every word. “I won’t fight you, and no one will know about this, I just… I’ve recently made a few mistakes in my own life. I killed a man, and hurt people that I loved, because of my own stupidity and greed. I betrayed the goddess that I pray to, but I can still spread her message even if I’m not a good man.
“Necromancy harms the soul,” Thayne says, and Ruby rolls her eyes, staying close to my side. “Natural undead sometimes form when a person’s soul lingers longer than it should in a place thick with æther, an already damaged person is hurt only more when someone with your magic catches them.”
“If they’re untrained, that’s true,” Rindel says, returning with his books. “However, a decent necromancer would never intend to damage a soul.”
“Your magic perverts souls, making them into tools, altering them to serve a necromancer’s whims. You’re only doing this, training a new master because that’s what you were told to do.”
“An understandable misunderstanding,” Rindel hands me the book, bound well with a weathered leather cover. “The soul is outside of a necromancer’s purview, it is more a parallel area of study. In most cases the soul breaks out of the body upon death and can’t reanimate itself, so what Henry has done for me, is much like a jeweller carefully crafting a ring that can house the gemstone that is my soul.
“It is different in that he cannot shape the jewel itself at all, and thus has to carefully shape the housing, the bones and flesh, around the soul. Of course, this is more a matter of æther channels, so it’s not as if my ribs have been reshaped into a chalice or any such stupidity.”
“You’re saying that your soul is undamaged?” Thayne asks, running his hands along the grip of his hammer.
Rindel pauses, hesitating to go on, the sounds in his throat proving that he’s still struggling even now.
“No, my soul has been damaged, but no more than any soul would be after years spent waiting for someone who will never return,” he says, patting down his clothes. “Better, in fact. As most would be broken by this, but not me. If I had a talented necromancer to repair my housing, and to free me from this prison, then I would be perfectly healthy.”
“I can learn how to do that?” I ask, carefully opening the pages of the book. The words are scribbled in by hand and it’s nothing like the clear letters that I’m used to, but if it has the secrets to gaining strength, then I will learn to read it.
“I can learn to make someone like you?” I ask. “Someone still…”
“You can’t bring back the dead,” Lothar says, coming out of his reverie to press a hand on my shoulder. “Syr, necromancy is… it’s not the same as healing someone. You can’t just dig up a body and bring back who the person was.”
“I know,” I say. “I just want the strength to keep people alive so that I don’t have to make a miracle. It’s just… I mean if some old necromancer could do this, then…?”
“Then, read and study,” Rindel says, handing me the book filled with notes. “If you dig around in the right æther wells, you might find other remnants of my old friend out there. It wasn’t luck that you found me, I think. Rather, if you’re chasing undead around in places like this, it was something inevitable. It was instead my fortune that you came here to find me, instead of finding some other old ruin.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the notes and flicking through the pages.
A little after the earliest pages, there are sketches of flesh and bone with small threads drawn through them. Æther channels and veins, but I don’t know what it’s meant to mean. Am I meant to make these myself? I don’t think I’m that good with a knife.
“Study enchantments,” Rindel suggests, looking over the book. “Henry mentioned once that his greatest breakthrough was learning to repair the æther veins in a person’s body, something he learned from his forays into enchantments magics.”
“Thank you,” I bow my head to him. “Is there anything I can do for you in return?”
Rindel opens his mouth to say something, but pauses, closing his eyes and settling back into his chair. He stays like that for a good while, but I wait patiently. He’s probably just trying to work around his issues again, and it would be rude to say anything.
Maybe he wants me to try and fix him, or to come back when I’ve learned how to use necromancy better so that I can get him out of here.
“I wish to die,” he says, keeping his eyes shut closed. “I wish to leave this world and seek my old friend in the next.”
“I… don’t know how,” I admit. “Unless you want me to smash you to bits? Should I train myself and come back?”
“No, this much should be easy,” he shakes his head. “It’s easier to break something than to forge it. All you need to do is pull out the deadbolts holding my soul in place. It should be simple once you’ve found them. Please, there is nothing more apart from that book that I can offer you now.”
“You’re a strong undead, aren’t you?” Ruby asks. “Can’t you serve her instead? She’s in a dangerous situation at the moment, and I’m sure she could use your services.”
“If she were strong enough to overwhelm Henry’s old magic, then perhaps, but she is not,” Rindel says. “She is not even strong enough to keep us alive outside of this æther well. So unless she is to stay down here, then I can do nothing to help her further.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I can come back in a few years when I’m stronger. I can help you then. Isn’t there something more you want to do?”
“No,” Rindel shakes his head. “I am satisfied. Please, give me this request. Oh, and could you also pull the strings from old Jerry outside? His soul broke free on its own a few centuries back, and I’m sure that he’d be disgusted to see his flesh still walking about as it has been. He’s much too dangerous, besides, and it would be terrible if someone stumbled across him.”
“A little late for that,” Lothar whispers, still clutching the old coin in his fist.
“How do I do that?” I ask. “How do I turn you into ashes?”
“That could be a little more difficult than freeing a soul,” Rindel admits. “You’ll want to break the flow through the channels keeping us active. I’m sure you’ll see what I mean when you try it. It should be a useful technique for dealing with the other undead around here.”
“Against vampires, too,” I say. If I could kill that person that Rea was worrying about, then it would be worth it.
“Then, if you would,” Rindel asks, reaching for me. I rest my hand in his, and let myself look inside of him again.
“If I may, I would like to pray to Shialla,” Thayne says, stepping forward. “She would take better care of your soul than the other gods. She is kind to those of us who are broken.”
“And I’m sure that she appreciates the souls you’ve sent her,” Ruby replies, glancing back at him as if to silence him. Thayne flinches but bows his head low in something close to a nod.
“I’ve made my mistakes,” he admits. “My faith in the goddess is not one of them.”
“Syr,” Ruby waves me toward Rindel. “I will guard you, so feel free to do as you will.”
“Okay,” I nod slowly, trying to be gentle as I probe around the undead man’s soul. “Are you sure you’re sure?”
“I am certain,” Rindel says. “I was prepared to stay and ensure that someone could learn from my old friend’s legacy, but… I think that I will leave my hopes in you. I… I…”
His words loop and break down as his eyes flick back and forth as if he’s suddenly broken.
“I can work around the injuries, but the longer that I stay here, the more pain that I must suffer through,” he says. “Please, if you ever do grow strong as Henry. Make sure that you never leave behind anyone to suffer the ages after you’re gone. Please don’t leave behind a broken man like me. Don’t make that same mistake.”
“I won’t,” I say. Reaching inside of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to hurt like this.”
Closing my eyes, I whisper commands feeling for the responses and understanding little by little, the structure that makes the man what he is. He’s a work of art, degraded by time, but his core remains protected by an inviolable shield. His soul. Something that even a master necromancer can never create, or pervert.
Rea was much more delicate compared to this man she had none of what I see here, the thousands of commands and protections that the old necromancer carved into this man around his soul, protecting it further. Many of the orders stuck inside of the man are simple things, things that I’d never think of, some I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
This body is yours; it will never feel otherwise.
Your heart beats, and you feel life in your flesh.
Your mind is clear, and you will not be corrupted by time.
A thousand orders keep this man as he is. Some make him more comfortable, and others make it so that he won’t go insane. I’m not sure what all of them are for, but I know that I can’t break them. They’re not made to be shields against another necromancer, but that’s what they are in the end.
Still, I don’t need to break any of this. I just need to add one little thing.
“You’ve done enough. You’re free,” I say, feeding it into him as an order. “You can go now.”
The commands that hold his soul in place are strange. They’re strong but weak. While I’m sure that he can’t break himself free, all it takes from me is the slightest thought to loosen the locks that bind him in this flesh. As the locks slide out of place, and the one part of him that I can’t touch slides out of its prison, his body slumps over, releasing a long sigh. He almost sounds relieved, but the truth is that his soul is already gone.
As it slips through my fingers, I feel the faint cracks in its surface. They’re not weaknesses, and I know that I couldn’t exploit them like stabbing a knife through a gap in a person’s armour. It’s more like trying to splash water on the sun, it’s simply impossible to even reach it.
While Thayne whispers his prayers to a soul already gone, I explore the remains, digging through a thousand orders still deep set within his flesh. Unlike the skeletons outside, and my own undead, his body was always meant to be controlled by the soul, and so now that it’s gone a vital piece is missing.
Feeding my magic into him, I have him stand up and move, but it’s no different to anything I’ve done before. He’s not intelligent at all.
“What are you doing?” Thayne interrupts his prayers to squawk at me, gripping his hammer and huffing as he stares at the moving corpse.
“He’s already gone,” I say shaking my head. “I’m trying to figure out what was done to his body. It’s all just muscle and bone now.”
Thayne relaxes just a little, still gripping his weapon tight as he watches me mess with the corpse trying to find a way to break it like he wanted me to do. To make him crumble as ash.
I’ve never learned properly how to do all the things that I do, so it’s all a matter of feeling things out. I tug at various parts inside of his mind and body, feeling about for a weakness.
It doesn’t take me long to find the magic clashing against mine. Not old orders set into his flesh, but fresh magic constantly renewing him, feeding into spell structures that are carved into his body. Tracing the flow back to the source, I find the æther veins that supply him with necromantic energies.
The æther channels are caved into every bone in his body, and breaking the spell manually would be difficult, but I don’t have to. Carefully, I pull at the enchantments inside of him and tug loose the part at the end, turning æther into magic.
“Thank you,” I whisper as he crumbles. “I’m sorry.”
If I was a more powerful necromancer, I could probably have saved him, but I can’t. I’m too weak, and I don’t know how to do the one thing that makes me special.
Before I can start thinking too much, I rush out the door to do the same for the rusted knight. He stands there as if waiting for me to end his long shift. I do not waste even a moment, weaving my magic into his flesh and probing around for the same parts that I pulled in Rindel.
It’s different in him. It takes more than a few seconds, and I couldn’t do this in a fight, but the rusted knight isn’t fighting.
I pull at the magic stringing him together, and he collapses, his armour clattering against the ground as his flesh and bone lose their shape.
Ruby catches the staff before it can even touch the ground.
“I think I’ll be holding onto this,” she says.
“Ah, okay,” I shake my head, glancing again at the weapon. It’s too light, and I have a good set of swords already. It would be decent loot to sell, but not very good equipment for me. If she wants to use it, then I’m not going to complain.
“I could study the armour,” I say, picking the pieces up and stuffing them in my pack around Crow. It’s too big for me to wear, and Thayne was convinced that it would be difficult to find someone who can repair it anyway, but I’m sure that I could use it to get better at enchanting. Maybe Anna can study it with me, it would be a good distraction, and she’s always good at making æther work efficiently.
“Maybe we should have done that after we got past the rest of these guys?” Leech whispers in irritation, staring at the bones slowly gathering around us.
“It’s fine if we move fast,” Ruby says, waving us back the way we’ve come as Lothar helps me to pack up the armour.
“Syr,” he grabs my hand looking at our allies. “Stay close to me.”
“What is it?”
“Just, keep your guard up,” he says.
Leech and Thayne lead our group away as Ruby and Parker watch our backs. The skeletons are pulling themselves back together but they’re taking some time to get there. So many bones were broken by the rusted knight that many of the skeletons are lacking important parts and can’t do much more than flop about on the ground.
The few that crawl in our path aren’t all that dangerous.
The mercenaries are going to turn on us. They’re going to try and kill me. That’s what Lothar is worried about, and I know it too.
Do we have to fight? Is there something I can say to keep anyone from dying?
“Here we are,” Thayne says, smashing the last skeletons in his way, glancing back at us as we reach the crypts that will lead us back up to the surface. “Let’s get out of here and forget all of this ever-Damn it!”
His eyes widen and he lifts his hammer defensively as Ruby flies over our heads, her new weapon striking down at him. A thick red blade comes into existence and burns against the haft of the hammer he lifts to block the attack.
“Parker!” Leech screams, raising his shields high as he charges into battle.
Behind us, Parker lies on the ground clutching at his throat as blood pours out. His eyes stare at us in horror. I rush toward him, preparing my healing magic, but Lothar grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me away.
“Leave it to her,” he says, dragging me to the side of the room.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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//Author Note: Try reading: Bloody Æther | Scribble Hub //
Thayne, Leech, and Parker stand behind me quietly staring at my back, judging me. I hold down my shuddering breathing. Ruby is right, and I am here to learn, but did she have to do this to me?
I just know that they’re sharing looks and gesturing to each other, communicating in ways that I can’t understand even if I was paying close attention. They’re keeping more of a distance from me now that they know, and I know that they’re picturing me as some terrible villain.
Are they going to try and kill me? Or are they more like Lothar and the others, quietly thinking bad things about me, but not ready to put a knife through my back?
Ruby promised that I’d be safe, so I don’t know why these people were chosen to help me down here. Couldn’t they have found more people like Ruby and Semi, they don’t mind my magic at all, and I know that there must be more people like them in this city.
Instead, they’ve brought these mercenaries. People that hate me now that they know what I am. People that will try to kill me, just to make sure that necromancy doesn’t come back.
I’m safe alone with the skeletons and undead, rather than in their company, but now isn’t the time to ask Ruby why she brought them here with us.
“You’re a necromancer?” Rindel asks as I probe him with my magic. Usually, slipping into the mind of a corpse, their memories appear right in my own mind, just floating there when I want to reach out for them. The memories that aren’t damaged and decayed, at least. This time is different. It’s more like dealing with the vampires, his memories are protected by a shield too powerful for me to break through.
“Hmm, you’re an amateur?” he asks. “Henry was always far gentler with his magic.”
I withdraw, stepping back and thinking about what I felt inside of him.
“You’re like the vampires,” I say, nodding to myself. I can still use my magic on him, and I can probably force new orders on him, but I can’t get access to his memories.
“Vampires?”
“Undead that are still people,” I say. “They drink blood and make other vampires. You feel a lot like they do.”
“I’ve never heard of such things,” Rindel shakes his head. “I’m not the most well-informed, so I can’t say that they weren’t around in my day.”
“Can you teach me?” I ask, staring into his dead eyes. All the magic that I’ve learned, I’ve taught myself and only now, seeing just how much a proper necromancer can do, can I start to notice all the things that I’ve been doing wrong. I feel like I’ve been pushing a cart sideways, all this time.
“I’d make for a rather poor tutor,” Rindel says, shaking his head to me, but still smiling warmly. “I know some, and I’ve read through the journals kept here, hoping that I could learn how to manipulate myself. It’s impossible, and all those notes are meant for someone who can already use the magic, it doesn’t help me to figure out how to first cast it.
“Give me a moment to collect them for you,” Rindel says, standing and stepping into a backroom. “I’ve kept them in good condition just in case of a situation such as this.”
As he steps away we’re left in the company of our mercenary guards, they’ve given up speaking out against my magic but I just know that they’re still thinking about it. Now when they look at me, they don’t see Syr, they see a dirty necromancer. Something despicable. Something evil.
I don’t like keeping secrets from people, but this is one secret that I need to keep, just because most people will react the same way, if not worse.
I just know that they’re going to spread rumours when we get out of here, even if they’re good people. I’ve spent enough time in the merc guild to know that when they get gloomy and filled with drinks most people will start to say things they shouldn’t.
What happens when the secret gets out?
“You’re safe,” Ruby says, rubbing my shoulder and smiling down at me.
“I’m a man of my word, and I’m not going to cause you any problems,” Thayne says, speaking slowly and carefully, thinking over every word. “I won’t fight you, and no one will know about this, I just… I’ve recently made a few mistakes in my own life. I killed a man, and hurt people that I loved, because of my own stupidity and greed. I betrayed the goddess that I pray to, but I can still spread her message even if I’m not a good man.
“Necromancy harms the soul,” Thayne says, and Ruby rolls her eyes, staying close to my side. “Natural undead sometimes form when a person’s soul lingers longer than it should in a place thick with æther, an already damaged person is hurt only more when someone with your magic catches them.”
“If they’re untrained, that’s true,” Rindel says, returning with his books. “However, a decent necromancer would never intend to damage a soul.”
“Your magic perverts souls, making them into tools, altering them to serve a necromancer’s whims. You’re only doing this, training a new master because that’s what you were told to do.”
“An understandable misunderstanding,” Rindel hands me the book, bound well with a weathered leather cover. “The soul is outside of a necromancer’s purview, it is more a parallel area of study. In most cases the soul breaks out of the body upon death and can’t reanimate itself, so what Henry has done for me, is much like a jeweller carefully crafting a ring that can house the gemstone that is my soul.
“It is different in that he cannot shape the jewel itself at all, and thus has to carefully shape the housing, the bones and flesh, around the soul. Of course, this is more a matter of æther channels, so it’s not as if my ribs have been reshaped into a chalice or any such stupidity.”
“You’re saying that your soul is undamaged?” Thayne asks, running his hands along the grip of his hammer.
Rindel pauses, hesitating to go on, the sounds in his throat proving that he’s still struggling even now.
“No, my soul has been damaged, but no more than any soul would be after years spent waiting for someone who will never return,” he says, patting down his clothes. “Better, in fact. As most would be broken by this, but not me. If I had a talented necromancer to repair my housing, and to free me from this prison, then I would be perfectly healthy.”
“I can learn how to do that?” I ask, carefully opening the pages of the book. The words are scribbled in by hand and it’s nothing like the clear letters that I’m used to, but if it has the secrets to gaining strength, then I will learn to read it.
“I can learn to make someone like you?” I ask. “Someone still…”
“You can’t bring back the dead,” Lothar says, coming out of his reverie to press a hand on my shoulder. “Syr, necromancy is… it’s not the same as healing someone. You can’t just dig up a body and bring back who the person was.”
“I know,” I say. “I just want the strength to keep people alive so that I don’t have to make a miracle. It’s just… I mean if some old necromancer could do this, then…?”
“Then, read and study,” Rindel says, handing me the book filled with notes. “If you dig around in the right æther wells, you might find other remnants of my old friend out there. It wasn’t luck that you found me, I think. Rather, if you’re chasing undead around in places like this, it was something inevitable. It was instead my fortune that you came here to find me, instead of finding some other old ruin.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the notes and flicking through the pages.
A little after the earliest pages, there are sketches of flesh and bone with small threads drawn through them. Æther channels and veins, but I don’t know what it’s meant to mean. Am I meant to make these myself? I don’t think I’m that good with a knife.
“Study enchantments,” Rindel suggests, looking over the book. “Henry mentioned once that his greatest breakthrough was learning to repair the æther veins in a person’s body, something he learned from his forays into enchantments magics.”
“Thank you,” I bow my head to him. “Is there anything I can do for you in return?”
Rindel opens his mouth to say something, but pauses, closing his eyes and settling back into his chair. He stays like that for a good while, but I wait patiently. He’s probably just trying to work around his issues again, and it would be rude to say anything.
Maybe he wants me to try and fix him, or to come back when I’ve learned how to use necromancy better so that I can get him out of here.
“I wish to die,” he says, keeping his eyes shut closed. “I wish to leave this world and seek my old friend in the next.”
“I… don’t know how,” I admit. “Unless you want me to smash you to bits? Should I train myself and come back?”
“No, this much should be easy,” he shakes his head. “It’s easier to break something than to forge it. All you need to do is pull out the deadbolts holding my soul in place. It should be simple once you’ve found them. Please, there is nothing more apart from that book that I can offer you now.”
“You’re a strong undead, aren’t you?” Ruby asks. “Can’t you serve her instead? She’s in a dangerous situation at the moment, and I’m sure she could use your services.”
“If she were strong enough to overwhelm Henry’s old magic, then perhaps, but she is not,” Rindel says. “She is not even strong enough to keep us alive outside of this æther well. So unless she is to stay down here, then I can do nothing to help her further.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I can come back in a few years when I’m stronger. I can help you then. Isn’t there something more you want to do?”
“No,” Rindel shakes his head. “I am satisfied. Please, give me this request. Oh, and could you also pull the strings from old Jerry outside? His soul broke free on its own a few centuries back, and I’m sure that he’d be disgusted to see his flesh still walking about as it has been. He’s much too dangerous, besides, and it would be terrible if someone stumbled across him.”
“A little late for that,” Lothar whispers, still clutching the old coin in his fist.
“How do I do that?” I ask. “How do I turn you into ashes?”
“That could be a little more difficult than freeing a soul,” Rindel admits. “You’ll want to break the flow through the channels keeping us active. I’m sure you’ll see what I mean when you try it. It should be a useful technique for dealing with the other undead around here.”
“Against vampires, too,” I say. If I could kill that person that Rea was worrying about, then it would be worth it.
“Then, if you would,” Rindel asks, reaching for me. I rest my hand in his, and let myself look inside of him again.
“If I may, I would like to pray to Shialla,” Thayne says, stepping forward. “She would take better care of your soul than the other gods. She is kind to those of us who are broken.”
“And I’m sure that she appreciates the souls you’ve sent her,” Ruby replies, glancing back at him as if to silence him. Thayne flinches but bows his head low in something close to a nod.
“I’ve made my mistakes,” he admits. “My faith in the goddess is not one of them.”
“Syr,” Ruby waves me toward Rindel. “I will guard you, so feel free to do as you will.”
“Okay,” I nod slowly, trying to be gentle as I probe around the undead man’s soul. “Are you sure you’re sure?”
“I am certain,” Rindel says. “I was prepared to stay and ensure that someone could learn from my old friend’s legacy, but… I think that I will leave my hopes in you. I… I…”
His words loop and break down as his eyes flick back and forth as if he’s suddenly broken.
“I can work around the injuries, but the longer that I stay here, the more pain that I must suffer through,” he says. “Please, if you ever do grow strong as Henry. Make sure that you never leave behind anyone to suffer the ages after you’re gone. Please don’t leave behind a broken man like me. Don’t make that same mistake.”
“I won’t,” I say. Reaching inside of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to hurt like this.”
Closing my eyes, I whisper commands feeling for the responses and understanding little by little, the structure that makes the man what he is. He’s a work of art, degraded by time, but his core remains protected by an inviolable shield. His soul. Something that even a master necromancer can never create, or pervert.
Rea was much more delicate compared to this man she had none of what I see here, the thousands of commands and protections that the old necromancer carved into this man around his soul, protecting it further. Many of the orders stuck inside of the man are simple things, things that I’d never think of, some I don’t think I’ll ever understand.
This body is yours; it will never feel otherwise.
Your heart beats, and you feel life in your flesh.
Your mind is clear, and you will not be corrupted by time.
A thousand orders keep this man as he is. Some make him more comfortable, and others make it so that he won’t go insane. I’m not sure what all of them are for, but I know that I can’t break them. They’re not made to be shields against another necromancer, but that’s what they are in the end.
Still, I don’t need to break any of this. I just need to add one little thing.
“You’ve done enough. You’re free,” I say, feeding it into him as an order. “You can go now.”
The commands that hold his soul in place are strange. They’re strong but weak. While I’m sure that he can’t break himself free, all it takes from me is the slightest thought to loosen the locks that bind him in this flesh. As the locks slide out of place, and the one part of him that I can’t touch slides out of its prison, his body slumps over, releasing a long sigh. He almost sounds relieved, but the truth is that his soul is already gone.
As it slips through my fingers, I feel the faint cracks in its surface. They’re not weaknesses, and I know that I couldn’t exploit them like stabbing a knife through a gap in a person’s armour. It’s more like trying to splash water on the sun, it’s simply impossible to even reach it.
While Thayne whispers his prayers to a soul already gone, I explore the remains, digging through a thousand orders still deep set within his flesh. Unlike the skeletons outside, and my own undead, his body was always meant to be controlled by the soul, and so now that it’s gone a vital piece is missing.
Feeding my magic into him, I have him stand up and move, but it’s no different to anything I’ve done before. He’s not intelligent at all.
“What are you doing?” Thayne interrupts his prayers to squawk at me, gripping his hammer and huffing as he stares at the moving corpse.
“He’s already gone,” I say shaking my head. “I’m trying to figure out what was done to his body. It’s all just muscle and bone now.”
Thayne relaxes just a little, still gripping his weapon tight as he watches me mess with the corpse trying to find a way to break it like he wanted me to do. To make him crumble as ash.
I’ve never learned properly how to do all the things that I do, so it’s all a matter of feeling things out. I tug at various parts inside of his mind and body, feeling about for a weakness.
It doesn’t take me long to find the magic clashing against mine. Not old orders set into his flesh, but fresh magic constantly renewing him, feeding into spell structures that are carved into his body. Tracing the flow back to the source, I find the æther veins that supply him with necromantic energies.
The æther channels are caved into every bone in his body, and breaking the spell manually would be difficult, but I don’t have to. Carefully, I pull at the enchantments inside of him and tug loose the part at the end, turning æther into magic.
“Thank you,” I whisper as he crumbles. “I’m sorry.”
If I was a more powerful necromancer, I could probably have saved him, but I can’t. I’m too weak, and I don’t know how to do the one thing that makes me special.
Before I can start thinking too much, I rush out the door to do the same for the rusted knight. He stands there as if waiting for me to end his long shift. I do not waste even a moment, weaving my magic into his flesh and probing around for the same parts that I pulled in Rindel.
It’s different in him. It takes more than a few seconds, and I couldn’t do this in a fight, but the rusted knight isn’t fighting.
I pull at the magic stringing him together, and he collapses, his armour clattering against the ground as his flesh and bone lose their shape.
Ruby catches the staff before it can even touch the ground.
“I think I’ll be holding onto this,” she says.
“Ah, okay,” I shake my head, glancing again at the weapon. It’s too light, and I have a good set of swords already. It would be decent loot to sell, but not very good equipment for me. If she wants to use it, then I’m not going to complain.
“I could study the armour,” I say, picking the pieces up and stuffing them in my pack around Crow. It’s too big for me to wear, and Thayne was convinced that it would be difficult to find someone who can repair it anyway, but I’m sure that I could use it to get better at enchanting. Maybe Anna can study it with me, it would be a good distraction, and she’s always good at making æther work efficiently.
“Maybe we should have done that after we got past the rest of these guys?” Leech whispers in irritation, staring at the bones slowly gathering around us.
“It’s fine if we move fast,” Ruby says, waving us back the way we’ve come as Lothar helps me to pack up the armour.
“Syr,” he grabs my hand looking at our allies. “Stay close to me.”
“What is it?”
“Just, keep your guard up,” he says.
Leech and Thayne lead our group away as Ruby and Parker watch our backs. The skeletons are pulling themselves back together but they’re taking some time to get there. So many bones were broken by the rusted knight that many of the skeletons are lacking important parts and can’t do much more than flop about on the ground.
The few that crawl in our path aren’t all that dangerous.
The mercenaries are going to turn on us. They’re going to try and kill me. That’s what Lothar is worried about, and I know it too.
Do we have to fight? Is there something I can say to keep anyone from dying?
“Here we are,” Thayne says, smashing the last skeletons in his way, glancing back at us as we reach the crypts that will lead us back up to the surface. “Let’s get out of here and forget all of this ever-Damn it!”
His eyes widen and he lifts his hammer defensively as Ruby flies over our heads, her new weapon striking down at him. A thick red blade comes into existence and burns against the haft of the hammer he lifts to block the attack.
“Parker!” Leech screams, raising his shields high as he charges into battle.
Behind us, Parker lies on the ground clutching at his throat as blood pours out. His eyes stare at us in horror. I rush toward him, preparing my healing magic, but Lothar grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me away.
“Leave it to her,” he says, dragging me to the side of the room.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
//Author Note: Did you enjoy the twists? Or did you see this all coming?
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