《Oathbound; The Suffering of Others》 Prologue This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡° Chapter 1 - Delusions of Knifehood ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 2 - The Lady of the Forest ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° was?¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 3 - Sundering ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 4 - An Informed Decision ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°actually know,¡± Ente admitted with little hesitation. ¡°It was still a mystery in my day, I would be quite interested to see if they¡¯ve solved it.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 5 - A Place Called Up ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡® ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡® ¡°¡® ¡® ¡°¡® ¡® ¡° ¡° Chapter 6 - A Villainous Interlude ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 7 - Confrontation ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° old friend. You are powerless so close to the circle, let alone so close to our armour,¡± he sneered. ¡°Give me a reason why I should unhand your apprentice when he provides such brilliant leverage over you.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 8 - Circulus Seruatis ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°conscious audience¡¯s shock, he produced the collar in question, though at what point he¡¯d obtained it, Alec couldn¡¯t remember. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 9 - The Worlds Deadliest Librarian There was an exasperated growl as The Swordsman sat on the edge of Erebus¡¯ bed, having just placed the insensate Holly in the infirmary¡¯s only other permanent bed. It was a simply equipped station, about three hundred years behind modern magical healthcare; it tended to take a long time for new discoveries to make it this deep into paladin territory, let alone into the cold, dark heart of the Forest Von Mori within it. A forest one lich had foolishly remarked as being ¡®a minor challenge for the journeyman magician¡¯ within Von Mori¡¯s hearing, only to go missing a week later. The case had never been definitively resolved. ¡°You didn¡¯t half pick your times badly,¡± The Swordsman told the unconscious form, reflexively checking the necromancer¡¯s pulse and breathing. ¡°At the risk of being inconsiderate, couldn¡¯t you have waited two weeks to shake the foundations of society as we know it?¡± ¡°Hardly his fault,¡± stated a voice from within the confines of Erebus¡¯ backpack. The man looked at the bag appraisingly, a raised eyebrow sending an apparent tremor through the tattoos on his forehead. ¡°You would be Ente; the ghost?¡± ¡°I see you took the time to interrogate the child,¡± the ghost snapped coldly. ¡°Well at least you¡¯re still the same; a coward through and through.¡± The Swordsman paused for a moment, pursing his lips in annoyance. ¡°I don¡¯t believe we¡¯ve ever had the pleasure of being introduced,¡± he said flatly, though he couldn¡¯t quite eliminate the growling undertones in the sentence. ¡°I¡¯m Ente the Illuminator,¡± the ghost declared. ¡°And we have met.¡± With some effort, the immortal cast his mind back through the centuries, eventually narrowing the possibilities down to one. ¡°You were the elf,¡± he began slowly, as if waiting for confirmation, though none proved forthcoming before he ploughed onwards, ¡°the one that insisted on sleeping outside so you could see the stars.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to remember,¡± the ghost confessed. ¡°I remember a lot of things. I even remember what you said when I asked you why.¡± The ghost was annoyed; it was hard to loathe and despise someone who was being friendly. ¡°I said because theirs is an eternal beauty. And you told me I was wrong.¡± As he relived the memory Ente managed to reclaim some of his bitterness towards the immortal. ¡°Sorry but it¡¯s the truth. Stars die, galaxies burn, and life shall end, the cold hand of entropy will take everything and everyone given time, not out of malice, hatred or scorn but merely because that is the nature of the universe. We are but a brief flicker of a guttering candle, a moment of light in the darkness and all we can hope is to shine as brightly as possible in the time we have. All things end, live long enough and you¡¯ll see that,¡± The Swordsman said with utter solemnity, his expression grave. ¡°That could prove problematic,¡± Ente growled, and though The Swordsman could not see the glare being directed at him, he could certainly feel it. ¡°Only if you continue to be excessively literal,¡± the man told him before his words took a turn to the chilly. ¡°Now I believe you were going to tell me under what definition I am a coward.¡± ¡°You could have stopped the fighting. One word and there would have been no wars.¡± ¡°Yes. I could have intervened, sworn death and destruction on all who fought, and then what would you have had me do? Kill the Paladin Council of War? Destroy every lich that declared its defiance?¡± he asked wearily. ¡°Diplomacy at swordpoint isn¡¯t diplomacy. People will rebel as soon as the threat is no longer present. The hardest lesson I¡¯ve had to learn is that you have to let people, as a group, solve their own problems or they repeat them time and again.¡± ¡°And all the people who died in the meantime?¡± the ghost demanded angrily. ¡°Would have died anyway. Death is the only inevitability, it¡¯s what you do before it that matters, present company excepted. You can¡¯t force peace and freedom on people, they have to have chosen it for themselves, made a choice to unite and rise against their oppressors. When people have bled and died for peace; then they will have an understanding of its worth.¡± The ghost went silent, deep in thought. The Swordsman didn¡¯t interrupt, instead seeing to his patients as best he could, cleaning out Erebus¡¯ wounds with a flannel soaked in a mixture of iodine and alcohol, the substance provoking a pained hiss even in unconsciousness. Then he turned his attention to the dryad, only to turn away when his medical repertoire fell short of the task before it. ¡°But you could do it. You could force a peace,¡± the ghost stated stubbornly. ¡°There is a peace now. And not because one despot says so, but because it¡¯s what people wanted. You have to have patience, when the majority have had enough of something you¡¯ll be surprised how fast it ends.¡± ¡°That¡¯s heartless,¡± Ente retorted, ¡°to let people suffer when you could change it. The Swordsman had finally had enough. ¡°Are you really that dense? All that would happen is they¡¯d unite against me, then as soon as I¡¯m out of the picture they¡¯d return to fighting the same stupid war they¡¯d been fighting before I turned up. You cannot force people to change, persuade perhaps but never force. To quote the young necromancer here, ¡®Anyone hoping to lead the revolution is clearly on the wrong side.¡± ¡°But-¡± The Swordsman slammed the door as he left. As all this had been happening, Alec had found, with little difficulty, the library, its sheer scale making it obvious as it towered above all but a few buildings and then been promptly overwhelmed by it. In his whole life he¡¯d only ever seen eleven books, three of them philosophical discourses and a manual on the differential hardening of iron; the latter had been a gift from the old monk to the village¡¯s blacksmith, though the former had been a gift to the whole village. There had been other books from the old man, a small book of hymns and poetry ¡ª which from the state of the spine and the ease with which the words rolled from the monk¡¯s lips Alec had always privately suspected had been his own copy ¡ª written in a delicate flowing script bordering on the calligraphic. This had been accompanied by a surprisingly matter-of-fact history of the Paladin Order; most of the spoken history was rather self-praising with heavy use of words such as noble and glorious. Alec had actually asked the monk once why there was such a disparity between the two histories. The old man had looked up at him with benign amusement and said without trace of irony, ¡°Because stories that simply tell people what happened are nowhere near as interesting as ones where great heroes triumph against foul creatures and cruel villains. True isn¡¯t necessarily interesting.¡± Of course, now he was beginning to doubt elements of even the matter of fact paladin version of history. The other two volumes the monk had donated could only be described as odd. One had been a two thousand page manual on how to fold paper into the shapes of animals, whilst the remaining volume had been about a magical creature that looked like a humanoid fox known as a kitsune, rarely found outside of the eastern continent of Belsinan, many thousands of miles from Contenmere. The creatures were apparently masters of trickery and illusion who delighted in one-upmanship upon the other races, sometimes fatally so. Of the three books not provided by the benevolent sage, two had been simple and outdated by several decades, farmers¡¯ almanacs, but the final tome had been a marvel. A crumbling dictionary, inks fading in places and some pages missing entirely, a lack of paper, papyrus or vellum in the village had prevented the attempts of repair upon it, but nonetheless, it had been an invaluable tool for both Adis and the monk which had led to unusual levels of literacy amongst the people of the village. Thus the library was a small Renaissance in itself to young Alec, his eyes wide with glorious wonder at the seemingly endless array of shelves, each shelf nearing three metres in height and a third that in width, every single one filled with compendiums, tomes and volumes, some barely thicker than a child¡¯s smallest finger whilst the largest almost required two men to carry. Unbeknownst to Alec, the Seruatis library was amongst the largest available to man, rivalled only by the Citadel¡¯s collection, some of the magical institutions, two private collections and most of the elven libraries ¡ª by simple virtue of being older. To the people of Seruatis there was a certain level of ambivalence to the library. Though from a rational perspective, it was inevitable; it was a tool, a useful tool but a tool nonetheless. The mystique of boundless knowledge loses its appeal to most people when they live with it every single day of their lives. To Alec, there was no such apathy or complacence. To him, the library was beauty itself and yet posed a great question; where to start? ¡°Can I help?¡± enquired the sharp voice of the librarian from beside him, the woman moving soundlessly on the auburn carpet, her choice of garb an overcoat topped with a large hood. The teen turned quickly, startled, and stopped still as a statue as he beheld his first gorgon; unlike the majority of people to find themselves doing so, Alec actually would have the opportunity to do so more than once. This was not due to any special quality bestowed upon him, nor the incredible foresight and protection provided by Erebus, but great caution on the part of the gorgon in question. ¡°Why are you wearing a mask?¡± Alec addressed the obvious question, ignorance of the most innocent kind allowing him to address boldly a topic that the more well informed would treat with utmost delicacy if they dared broach it at all. The gorgon smiled behind the eyeless iron mask, finding the forthright approach rather refreshing. ¡°It¡¯s so I don¡¯t accidentally hurt people.¡± Most people would have been tempted to ask why, Alec, channelling Erebusesque perception, did not, opting for the more useful ¡°How?¡±, picking up on the subtle tones of remorse in the gorgon¡¯s voice. ¡°You¡¯ve never heard of a gorgon have you?¡± the gorgon stated, a whole conversation taking place in the subtext. ¡°No,¡± Alec professed, looking down, embarrassed at his own ignorance. Another smirk from the woman, unseen by the world in general from behind the iron facsimile of her own visage. ¡°We¡¯re a rather tragic species I¡¯m afraid, evolution¡¯s little joke, or the victims of a mad goddess if you believe the legends,¡± she declared in a tone that clearly showed that such beliefs were purest poppycock in her opinion. Despite the self-pitying nature of the words, there was nothing but confidence and surety of self in her stance. ¡°Why tragic? I mean how can being a gorgon be so bad?¡± ¡°Anyone who looks directly upon my face turns into stone,¡± she said morosely, not excessively enthusiastic in her ability to turn a flesh and blood being into a marmoreal statue. The teenager looked conflicted for a moment, now aware that he had, metaphorically, been tap-dancing on a minefield in terms of the delicacy of the subject matter. To his credit, he did not once seem afraid of her, perhaps believing in the natural altruism of all people, though having met Lutan, this was unlikely. Thus an observer would simply conclude that he had a sufficiently deft mind to realise the mask was a deliberate attempt to shield the likes of him from harm, at great personal expense, and at a speed faster than his instincts of self-preservation. All this resolved into a single sentence, apologetic to the point of confession, ¡°Sorry if I was insensitive.¡± There was a hissed bark of laughter from the gorgon. ¡°Don¡¯t apologise for something you couldn¡¯t have known.¡± ¡°Um¡­¡± Alec began hesitantly, treading with far greater care now, ¡°How do you know where you¡¯re going with that mask on?¡± ¡°Years of practise and I¡¯ve got an exceptional sense of hearing, so I don¡¯t bump into anyone.¡± ¡°Oh. Do you miss being able to see?¡± ¡°I can still see, I just can¡¯t remove the mask while the library has people in it. Late at night, I like to read some of the more fragile texts and copy them out so age doesn¡¯t cause a permanent end to them.¡± ¡°You work here?¡± the boy asked, intrigued about the library¡¯s day-to-day runnings. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Live here in fact. I¡¯ve a room on the top floor. Now, what can I do for you?¡± the masked gorgon rephrased her initial question. ¡°Well, there¡¯s just so many books¡­¡± Alec began, only to be met by the harsh, sibilant chuckle from earlier. ¡°That you can¡¯t fathom where to begin,¡± she finished for him, the sheer rapidity of the intervention indicating the frequency of the problem. ¡°Well considering your apparent interest in my people¡­ I can recommend some of the more accurate and impartial texts on gorgons, as well as a number on cockatrice and the exceedingly rare catoblepas.¡± The librarian began to walk away with surprising speed, clearly not bluffing on her awareness of her surroundings, and upon reaching the shelves, began to pluck books from them seemingly at random. ¡°What¡¯s a catoblepas?¡± her young companion asked, whilst attempting, without success, minimal or otherwise, to sneak a glance at the titles. In response she handed him a book, rather helpfully named Catoblepas. It was a surprisingly slim volume, soon accompanied, without prompting or enquiry, by a rather larger one about cockatrice. Then, after a considerable walk down the aisles to a section marked with a reasonably obtrusive gilded G. That the librarian knew this spoke volumes on her memory, though not as much as on her ability to unerringly remove the correct tome on the first attempt. On the subject of gorgons, five volumes were plucked out in quick succession before just as quickly being offloaded into Alec¡¯s arms. ¡°Find yourself a desk and get reading,¡± the gorgon ordered, preparing to disappear back into whatever shadowy recesses librarians inhabit when people aren¡¯t being either louder than a whisper, seeking advice or wishing to take a book out of the library. ¡°Come find me when you¡¯ve finished them all.¡± And with that parting instruction, she vanished amongst the aisles, leaving Alec in a pile of books large enough to obscure most of his vision and utterly lost amongst the shelves, though, by the time tested technique of wandering until finding one¡¯s goal, he did eventually find a desk and so settled down to read. Back in the infirmary, The Swordsman was watching the unconscious Saiko with an expression that was part respect for a fellow master of their craft, part amusement, a slight dab of surprise and the merest hint of awe. Piled up in the chair beside him was Saiko¡¯s personal armoury, the collection worryingly large and the source of the man¡¯s amusement, which while on the machinations of his patient¡¯s mind was not at his expense. Despite an excessive number of centuries to his names, The Swordsman had never met anyone quite so well-armed. He¡¯d tried to be as unintrusive as possible in the circumstances, a matter only assisted by the four layers of clothing ¡ª technically, at least two could be counted as armour ¡ª each with their own caveat of violent intent. Despite the indignity of being stripped of weapons and clothing, though once it proved harmless, the latter had been reapplied, it was merely something that had to be done. Allowing a man with a violent potential greater than some assassins he¡¯d known, to walk around armed would be foolish to the extreme. First, he¡¯d removed the swords, two slim arming swords strapped across Saiko¡¯s back, then the falchion¡¯s empty scabbard, idly noting the length of garrotte wire threaded into the belt it was attached to as well as resolving to pick the sword back up as soon as he had a moment¡¯s peace; he had a hunch about that sword. Then there had been the cloak, weighted in just the right places to make it throwable as an impromptu net or surprise flail. The cloak had actually been a pleasant surprise. The many-hued dark grey cloth ¡ª no one who actually understood stealth would use black ¡ª spoke of both a certain fastidiousness to detail and a cunning originality, a rare combination in The Swordsman¡¯s experience. It also helped that the weave of cloth in question had been known to, if not stop arrows, then certainly slow them significantly, presumably reducing anything short of the chainmail punching bodkin, or a crossbow quarrel, to a manageable trifle for the armour two layers further in. Of course, with the advent of the needle bodkin, even plate steel was no longer entirely safe. However, the traditional broadhead arrow was still the archer¡¯s favourite, for, despite its parlous lack of armour penetration, it still had the pertinent perquisite of inflicting wounds that were significantly more likely to prove fatal. The first layer of death, and prevention thereof, removed had revealed two bandoleers of throwing knives, overlapping across Saiko¡¯s chest; he hadn¡¯t even needed to remove them to know each would be balanced to perfection. Two knives in each bandoleer had proven worth a closer inspection, one ¡ª from the distinctive black tarnishing ¡ª was a silver alloy or at least silver-coated yet, by some miracle of the smith¡¯s art, actually managed to keep an edge. A werewolf killer¡¯s weapon. It had not been quite as easy to identify the knife¡¯s nature as he was used to; the steel blades had all the gleam of granite on a dark night. The weapons of a true assassin rather than someone who merely wished to look the part. An affectation of machismo that proved all too common and oft all too fatal for the braggart involved. The other knife of note was made of wood, presumably because the throwing stake had proven a complete failure when subjected to such peevish and petty concepts as aerodynamics, and so vampire hunters, wise enough to realise that what you wanted most of all when dealing with something strong enough to pull off your limbs was distance and thus had, unless of exceptional aim, been forced to make do with wooden-headed arrows and quarrels, as well as throwing knives that would go thwack! rather than clang! if they missed. The robes the bandoleers were fastened around belayed the stealthy themes indicated thus far. The fabric was dyed ¡ª well likely dyed ¡ª the familiar reddish-brown of dried blood, presumably to conceal stains of such a nature. It was a lighter fabric than the cloak, perhaps a particularly dense wool or similar. Whatever it was it proved to have a worrying selection of objects, from a set of lockpicks to smoke bombs to actual bombs to a pair of stilettos sown into the lining with painstaking care. Each joined the growing pile alongside the robe itself, revealing the armour it was intended to hide. The Swordsman¡¯s opinion of the man rose slightly further again as yet another facet of subterfuge was revealed; the thick cloak and wool robe hiding the armour quite masterfully, such that the first a prospective killer might know of it would be when their blade was turned aside, likely bringing them within reach of Saiko¡¯s own exceptional sword-arm and whatever weapon currently attached to the end of it. Lies within lies within clothing¡­ he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how such a man had come to be in the service of Lutan. The armour was quite interesting and, if his deductions were correct, of his patient¡¯s own design. A series of interlocking titanium plates suspended and woven into a spider silk mesh. The existence of spider silk mesh was a subject of much contention among soldiers, mages and scholars alike. For a considerable amount of time magicians had been aware that spider silk was, ounce for ounce, significantly stronger than the finest steel. So when asked, as a sign of increasing paladin/magician cooperation, to find a way to cheaply improve the quality of basic armour ¡ª which from a paladin point of view was anything not containing nullstone ¡ª one particularly ingenious specimen had suggested they try to mass-produce the stuff. They had first tried doing it safely by using magic to modify goats in such a way as to produce it in their milk, but when the volume had proved insufficient, corners had been cut. Another team working on the project had simply made the spiders grow to excessive size, finally settling on an arachnid whose average dimensions and mass was somewhere between a rhinoceros and a small elephant. Predictably it had collapsed under its own weight and suffocated. Alas, the team had proven to possess a dangerous combination of determination and poor foresight. So with predictable foolhardiness, instead of abandoning the venture as a doomed experiment, they began again, using magic where biology rebelled. Miraculously this approach not only worked but proved to have its own failsafe as the spells supporting the arachnids, both figuratively and literally ¡ª had to be renewed every three days. Despite some accidents, though rarely fatal as antivenom was usually on hand, the yield of spider silk was quite high, and after the use of said silk to create some very thick protective gloves, so was the yield of venom. There is an old expression ¡®from the ridiculous to the sublime¡¯ used as an attempt to convey that the sheer level of unthinking, brazenly stupid decision making is not describable by mortal man, rendering the observer into a state of near awe at the failure to foresee the consequences. In this case, with demand increasing exponentially, one biomancer, a Professor Munsento, decided to remove the failsafe by making the arachnids intrinsically magical and thus sustaining the spells themselves. The one trace of intelligence in this decision was that he didn¡¯t release the genetically modified creature into the ecosystem on the basis that a good lawyer could deal with any problems this might cause¡­ Naturally, the spiders escaped and, without the failsafe, prospered, another ever-present danger in a world already full of them. By now, the arach had infested forest, jungle, desert and plain, with only the frozen south and tundra of the north being spared. And there were rumours that Munsento had survived, desperately devoting his life to fixing his mistakes; one particularly prolific rumour said that he¡¯d travelled the world in search of natural predators of web-building spiders and enlarged them similarly, though the rumour was typically dismissed on the basis that no one could be that stupid. Fast forward three hundred years and the project, consequences aside, had been highly successful in its initial aims and thus increasing amounts of armour were, instead of leather and iron, made of spider silk, light as a feather and harder than steel and thus in the case of Saiko¡¯s armour raised mild questions as to why he¡¯d even bothered with titanium plates. In fact, to a suspicious kind of mind, one might speculate that the underside of such plates might have protective runes carved into them whilst carefully concealing the presence of such from his magic-hating employer. The Swordsman elected not to check on the basis that it would be like smashing a fine statue to examine the stone¡¯s composition. Another thing revealed by the removal of the bloody robe were the knives, one strapped parallel to the bottom of each leg and forearm. The latter of which had proved decisive in its nullification of the late Sir Bareth the previous day. The fourth layer contained no armour at all, a mere silk body sleeve with some runes of cooling sewn into the fabric. The Swordsman could sympathise, without a light soft layer beneath it, such armour could chafe awfully and that many layers would be unpleasantly warm in the heart of winter let alone on the cusp as they were now. After a cursory patdown to ensure that no weapons were left that were larger than a fingernail, The Swordsman left it at that, at least allowing the man his modesty, before he sat down in his chair to muse quietly on the sheer number of weapons. Each one purposeful and logically placed and yet on consideration with all the other weapons; excessive. He¡¯d have to think about this, but something told him that the potential before him was worth nurturing. Saiko was an exceptional fighter, for an amateur. * As he carefully retraced his steps, Lutan could not help but smile, almost whistling as he walked, nearly half a decade of careful, meticulous planning finally at fruition. There were loose ends to tie up and lies to tell, but for now, he just basked in the glow of success. It had taken nearly half his life, but the traitor Erebus was dead at long last. It was joyous to finally be able to take the first step towards letting go of his hate. He¡¯d imagined killing the necromancer a thousand thousand times, watching the life drain from that cold, heartless gaze. There was a slight crunch as the heavily armoured paladin proved too great a weight for one dryad¡¯s skull, her body several yards away, Lutan walked on unperturbed; it merely served the foolish creatures right for interfering with his holy mission. They¡¯d hidden that from him. The very reason the Paladin Order had been founded. But he¡¯d found it; when the betrayal grew too much to bear, he¡¯d thrown himself into his training, and, recognising another who saw necromancers for the spawn of darkness they truly were, the Keepers of the Divine had accepted him into their ranks. Even they had betrayed him in the end; when he¡¯d suggested they step out of the shadows, they¡¯d died like traitors too¡­ pleading. A small part of him felt disgust at that; Erebus would never have begged for his life. It would take him five days to escape the forest, including a day for him to tend to his wounds. It didn¡¯t matter; he had food and water enough for the journey, more than enough if he scavenged off the corpses of his erstwhile servants, and, providing he followed the carnage, not a dryad alive to try and stop him. He¡¯d have to organise a party of lumberjacks when he got home, a lesson to dryadkind on what happened when you crossed the Paladin Order. Without Von Mori, any defence would be hopelessly haphazard. Of course, explaining what he¡¯d done to Von Mori would be difficult, but already an excuse was forming, one that would be more palatable to the council than ¡®She got in my way.¡¯ Lutan smiled darkly. Von Mori had been a thorn in the side of the Paladin Order for time immemorial, resisting all attempts to colonise within her borders; this wasn¡¯t strictly true, but to Lutan, it was true enough, and without the forest dryad¡¯s meddling, things would be changing shortly. The council might be hard to convince, but the paladin knew several business interests who would be extremely grateful. Ahead of him a dryad waited, visibly trembling in fear as she stood amongst the corpses of her neighbours. The Lord Protector was not a fool; no matter how distorted his worldview, stupidity was not an accolade that could be fairly lain at his feet. Despite disagreements, in later years, he¡¯d had a good teacher in the deductive process. Thus rather than casually beheading the creature as he walked past, he stopped, curious what message the forest considered important enough to sacrifice another dryad. ¡°Speak creature,¡± Lutan commanded, causing the dryad to jump, raw terror plain in her hazel eyes, her gaze remaining fixated upon the sword at his hip. ¡°L-L-Lady Yew s-sends a message,¡± the tree spirit stammered, ¡°the-the necromancer still lives.¡± Lutan froze in midstep before drawing his sword upon the wretched creature, the poor girl falling over in her desperate haste to get away, scrabbling backwards in the blood-soaked dirt. She stopped as the tip of Lutan¡¯s broadsword came to rest casually beneath her chin, the dryad wincing where the nullstone alloy left burns from the contact with the bark hued flesh. ¡°Now, let¡¯s have a little detail, shall we?¡± ¡°I-I don¡¯t know,¡± she almost begged, ¡°Lady Yew saw. That¡¯s all I know, I swear.¡± Lutan believed her, and so he slowly removed the sword from beneath her chin. The dryad seemed to collapse with relief, and then Lutan¡¯s sword took her head off. Dispassionately Lutan watched the light fade from her hazel eyes before wiping the blade clean on the corpse¡¯s clothes and resheathing it. It hadn¡¯t been anything personal; she¡¯d merely ceased to be useful. For scant seconds he considered storming or sneaking into Circulus Seruatis on his own to finish what he¡¯d started. But a moment of thought was all he needed to rule out that idea; there were too many variables, too many unknown quantities and worst of all, too many unpleasant known quantities. After all, to put things in perspective, a plan years in the making, where nearly everything had been accounted for, had all but failed in the face of a few unknown details. A plan which had accounted for the village, for Erebus, for The Swordsman, even for Von Mori herself ¡ª ironically, what had seemed the most dangerous part was the only one piece of the plan to go off without a hitch. And there was always the, rather likely, chance that this ¡®Lady Yew¡¯ was lying. Having made up his mind, Lutan continued his route back to what he considered civilisation. He would rest, rearm, and then, and only then, he would return. Chapter 10 - Dont Fight An Elemental ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 11 - The Lord of the Kitchen & The Inspirational Swordswoman ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°had committed. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°gift,¡± ¡ªshe all but spat the word ¡ª ¡°is worth more than entire kingdoms, people have sold their souls for less. And yet someone gave it to you?¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° dryly. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 12 - The Problem With Being A Confidant ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 13 - The Confluence of Immortals ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡®Relax child.¡¯ Erebus sent calmingly, entirely unsurprised as this produced the opposite response, Alec instinctively trying to remove the intruder from his surface thoughts. It was lucky he hadn¡¯t delved deeper, or both of them would be facing at least minor brain damage. ¡®Calmer now?¡¯ he enquired politely. The second expenditure of magic was much smaller but still enough to raise the ambient temperature of the air. ¡®I¡¯m calm.¡¯ Alec replied, at last, figuring out how to thought-send intuitively. ¡®Sorry¡­ I just wasn¡¯t expecting it.¡¯ The message heavily overshadowed by guilt. ¡®It¡¯s a normal reaction,¡¯ Erebus assured him. ¡®We can talk like this for a while if that helps.¡¯ ¡®Okay. What did you want to talk about?¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s your mind kid, you decide,¡¯ was the phlegmatic response. Erebus struggling to stop secrets hidden from the world for years from leaking across the mental link. ¡®Too old and too out-of-practice,¡¯ he chided himself, cursing the ravages of time upon his mind. To his horror Alec replied, the errant thought travelling across before he could stop it. ¡®What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ the boy asked, concerned at his mentor¡¯s doubt. ¡®Just age,¡¯ Erebus reassured. ¡®Though magic has conquered decay of the body, the mind is not so easy; we can prevent mental illness, for the most part, but that doesn¡¯t prevent centuries of memory from weighing you down.¡¯ Why¡¯s that a problem now?¡¯ ¡®Have you ever tried, really, really, really hard not to think about something? Right now, two centuries of secrets are all but begging to flow across the link, and it¡¯s mentally exhausting, like being engaged in a form of mental combat against yourself.¡¯ ¡®Then how do professional telepaths cope?¡¯ Alec asked, aiming unerringly for the pertinent question as the monk, and now the necromancer had taught him. ¡®Decades of constant practise and meditation, alas, I am but a mere dabbler in the arts of the mind.¡¯ Somehow Alec knew that wasn¡¯t entirely true but did not press further as Erebus continued with the conversation proceeding at the speed of thought; it was hard to believe that a mere handful of seconds were all that had passed thus far. One of the reasons for holding the conversation with eyes shut, neither of them could grow disjointed by the difference in the time they felt had passed and the time actually passed. ¡®Now, are you feeling comfortable enough with this mode of communication to allow me to delve beyond your surface thoughts?¡¯ ¡®I suppose so,¡¯ the boy sent deliberately, though he lacked the discipline not to send his true thoughts across as well; a boiling mass of doubt and fear. Suppose is insufficient I¡¯m afraid. When you¡¯re certain, let me know.¡¯ ¡®Okay.¡¯ ¡®Do you want to take a break?¡¯ the necromancer asked kindly ¡ª it was little less than a miracle that Alec wasn¡¯t bleeding from the eyes, though doubtless, his bond to Holly was providing some insulation from the strain. ¡®We can try again in a couple of hours.¡¯ Yes¡­ please, Alec replied, finding the presence of a second set of thoughts in his own mind more disconcerting than he could put into words. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°¡­ ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡° ¡° ?¡± Saiko asked, trying to recall the long fluid string of syllables. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° far too young to have to understand these things.¡± There was a pause, ¡°Scrap that, I¡¯m too young to have to understand these things.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 14 - The Dream Eyed Man Pride was a terrible, difficult thing to swallow up until the point you chose to do so. This was not the first time Erebus had been forced to face this hard truth, but it was definitely the most bitter as he stood outside the ancient enemy¡¯s door. Fortunately, with the choice came determination and acceptance, enough, he fervently hoped, for the task at hand. With great disgust, he rapped firmly on the stout oak door before him, the wood so old it had all but fossilised, and the sharp crack issued forth could have just as easily been the sound of his knuckles breaking. It was almost two minutes before he heard the sound of footsteps past the threshold; doubtless, the wait was a calculated insult by the owner. The necromancer knew there was no way the creature behind the door hadn¡¯t heard the knock and, by other, more esoteric senses, been expecting him for hours. A dreamy-eyed man opened the door, his stare managing to take in Erebus whilst also gazing into the middle distance. ¡°Hello again necromancer scum. Please do come inside,¡± the man said without preamble before gliding back inside with a swish of his tartan toga and long, flowing auburn locks. ¡°A pleasure to see you too Pheus,¡± the scum replied dryly, acutely aware the creature was making an effort to be polite. ¡°I¡¯m here to-¡± ¡°Get me to save the dryad girl. My answer is no.¡± The man smiled, exposing too perfectly white teeth. ¡°I will see you and everything you care about rot, now would you like a drink?¡± ¡°Whiskey please, whatever Agh¡¯zak recommends,¡± Erebus replied. ¡°I am prepared to bargain for her life.¡± Pheus smiled unpleasantly, ¡°Then perhaps we might come to an arrangement. From your desperation I presume your library search was utterly fruitless.¡± ¡°As you knew it would be,¡± the necromancer replied evenly. ¡°Your terms?¡± ¡°Of course it wouldn¡¯t work.¡± Pheus sneered, ¡°Foolish boy, like all your kind, looking to the past to find the future. How you defeated us I will never understand.¡± ¡°You only fought for yourselves.¡± ¡°Spare me the heady idealism,¡± his host declared in disgust. ¡°You want terms, here are my terms. Your dreams and a month of nightmares visited by me.¡± ¡°A steep price,¡± the mage observed. ¡°For the attempt or the successful completion?¡± ¡°They are the same. That is why you came to me when all other options were exhausted.¡± Somehow the statement was utterly without ego, a fact and nothing more. ¡°No one knows nightmares like you Pheus.¡± ¡°And no one ever will,¡± this time there was ego. ¡°Why my dreams?¡± the necromancer asked. ¡°Boredom. You and the paladin are the most entertaining show for a thousand miles and everyone gets to watch but me.¡± ¡°And the others? How do they watch this?¡± Erebus asked, voice growing softer still. ¡°Nem sees the paladin. Jay sees the choices, but both of you keep your dreams from me.¡± Erebus laughed, the sounds utterly humourless yet filled with a near bottomless well of viscous hate. ¡°To know you are reduced to mere voyeurs. Very well o¡¯lord of Dreams. The pact is made.¡± ¡°The pact is made,¡± Pheus echoes, getting up to fetch two glasses, each glittering like the finest jewels in a king¡¯s ransom and pouring a generous measure of amber liquid into each from a jewel-encrusted decanter. ¡°Do you know there¡¯s a huge expanse of land across the western ocean which has never known our guidance? A tribal people, rich in oral history and trusted by the spirits of nature.¡± ¡°Am I supposed to applaud?¡± the necromancer snorted. ¡°I haven¡¯t got to my point yet,¡± Pheus chastised. ¡°Just south of this place there is an empire, built upon human sacrifice by the bloodiest of my kind ever known.¡± ¡°And you are telling me this because?¡± ¡°Simply enjoying the irony, that we were cast down for our excesses, yet they persist.¡± The man shrugged, ¡°Sometimes I consider making a clean break, letting go of my hate and rage. And then I remember your people had my family killed.¡± ¡°And all the families they had killed?¡± a harsh, bitter note in Erebus¡¯ voice, quite in contrast with the whisky. ¡°Weren¡¯t mine.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± The magician sighed, downing his glass in a single burning gulp before continuing with a hint of hoarseness, ¡°Our business is concluded.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let the door hit you on the way out.¡± * In the two days since Alec had failed to enter Holly¡¯s mind he¡¯d had very little free time, either stuck meditating, which wasn¡¯t particularly conducive to a clear mind, or learning how to fight with Saiko, the mercenary growing more visibly worried each day and the training more intensive and eccentric. Yesterday he¡¯d been training against Agh¡¯zak, the orc proving an amiable and patient teacher when kitchen utensils were kept out of reach. This afternoon he¡¯d been tutored by a retired paladin Saiko had managed to dredge from amongst the populace. A fact Alec had come to regret by the third hour of drills, when the wooden gladius in his hand may as well been purest lead. Still, the boy didn¡¯t shirk from the training, a fact Saiko found as disconcerting as it was helpful, the mercenary certain that one of the demons the boy was to fight was, in fact, the very same he was being trained to fight. It was bound to be a fruitless task; Saiko knew Lutan, his style, his weaknesses, his strength. He also knew it wouldn¡¯t make a jot of difference if it ever came to a fight. There was no way a couple of months of training, no matter how well targeted, how superlative the teachers themselves or how dedicated the student, could overcome decades of training and experience, not withstanding the better weapons and armour or the greater strength, speed and reach. Agh¡¯zak had been a lesson in dealing with superior strength, the orc quite reasonable about playing the thug once the motive behind it had been explained. Whilst, in Saiko¡¯s experience, orcs were seldom the bloodthirsty, bloodsoaked berserkers of legend, Agh¡¯zak was laid back to the point of pure zen by comparison. The retired paladin, Sir Antimony, had been a stroke of luck in the discovery. A silver-haired, eye-patched rogue, Saiko had taken an immediate liking to the old man, his first impression one of roguish humour, lazy amiability and razor wit. A mental picture neatly framed by an evening of drinking as they lied outrageously about their exploits. The paladin had proven a less able tutor than Agh¡¯zak, at least by Saiko¡¯s definition, friendly yes, considerate also yes, but an uncreative taskmaster, though that wasn¡¯t why he¡¯d recruited the age-silvered swordsman. He¡¯d needed a paladin to teach the boy the basics and, by fortune or fate, had found one. And for all Sir Antimony¡¯s creative recounting, his time amongst the townsfolk had proven the old knight¡¯s tall tales to be a mere appetiser. Which led to tonight. Alec had never had a training session at night before, but there was a certain frisson of expectation on the air and a subtle sense of motion in the shadows as well as gliding silhouettes amidst the umbra, just outside the reach of the magelights. Apparently, Seruatis never truly slept. Saiko had told him to turn up at the patch of dying grass and moist earth that served as their training ground at midnight, a time he¡¯d interpreted, never having had access to a clock, as a few hours after dark until now. Fortunately, especially given they¡¯d only recently passed the Winter Solstice, Dus had elected to time it for him. Days at a time of solitude had given the gorgon an uncanny time-sense, or so Alec had come to believe. The truth had proven a touch more practical though not as prescient. The slender beeswax candles that burned in a bowl on Dus¡¯ desk burned for an hour and no more, with a ten-hour candle for when she slept, though how she knew if they remained lit when her mask was on Alec couldn¡¯t fathom. The patch of warm earth proved eery in the night air, the shadows giving it the greyish hue of old grave dirt, and each chirp of an insect or faint mammalian rustle was a clarion call to the small nub of neurons in the back of his head marked ¡®Fear.¡¯ As he began to relax, gaze flitting from shadow to ominous shadow, a hand came to rest gently on Alec¡¯s shoulder. The teen¡¯s terrified scream was muffled by the gloved hand across his mouth. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to work on your awareness,¡± Saiko said quietly, letting him go. ¡°Allow me to introduce tonight¡¯s sparing partner; Anita Vasghoul.¡± Alec looked around for his foe, whilst pondering why the nocturnal duel, he¡¯d figured out already that each new trainer or foe was intended to teach a lesson. Finding out what the lesson was, on the other hand, and understanding it was another matter. A small petticoated girl stepped out from behind Saiko, almost a full head shorter than Alec, but he judged to be about his own age, her skin unhealthily pale if belayed by the vitality in her eyes. Short as she may be, Alec was overcome with a certainty she¡¯d be able to pound him into paste. ¡°She¡¯s kindly agreed to be your sparring partner tonight,¡± Saiko continued. ¡°Thank you?¡± he replied hesitantly, mind split between the inevitable beating he was going to receive and the reasons for the subterfuge and misdirection. Another infamous invaluable lesson from his old mentor: The only thing better than spotting and understanding a trick was to not let anyone know you¡¯d done it. Alec had suspicions as to what the catch was with tonight¡¯s lesson, a growing theory. With the bare minimum of flourish, he brought his wooden blade up to a guard position, arms still aching a little from earlier today, the tip aimed at Cassandra¡¯s pale throat. ¡°Ready when you are,¡± the teen declared evenly. Saiko nodded approvingly, regarding his pupil¡¯s stance and movement with the same calculating critical eye he would a potential opponent and despite a few minor problems with his stance ¡ª weight slightly too much on the forwards foot ¡ª and his grip on the blade a bit too stiff in the wrist ¡ª found it passable. In the mercenary¡¯s experience, most people first learning to use a blade had a tendency to grandstand and flourish, more focused on looking heroic than being effective in the belief the two flowed together. There was an art to fighting for style; arena fighting was a discipline in itself, but it bore little resemblance to one-on-one duelling and even less to a pitched battlefield. As his mind wandered Saiko kept part of his attention on his student as with steady exactitude, the girl bowed low, and Alec struck, stepping forwards to bring the flat of his blade towards her exposed head, aware the surprise attack could be lethal if it landed edge first even with a training blade. Saiko smiled briefly, watched as with an adroit sidestep Anita span in under Alec¡¯s guard in a neat half-circle, taking him by his overextended wrist and flipping him over her hip into an embarrassing sprawl in the dirt. The girl stepped backwards, out of reach of a desperate grab or kick, though none was forthcoming. ¡°You fight without honour,¡± she stated as Alec pushed himself back to his feet. ¡°Good. You might just live.¡± Five minutes later and Alec had had enough, body a mass of stinging welts. As he¡¯d suspected, Anita was most definitely not a young girl, she was too fast, too strong, and even without a sword, she¡¯d beaten the crap out of him. Little more than a blur when she decided to strike, and she¡¯d struck often. Frustrated, he threw down his blade. ¡°I give up! what¡¯s the point of this? I¡¯m getting nothing out of this other than hurt,¡± Alec declared, anger echoing out into the darkness. In any other city, this would have caused a chorus of rage back from freshly awoken residents, but fortunately, as he¡¯d already figured out, the day-night cycle wasn¡¯t even given lip service. ¡°You tell me what the point is,¡± Saiko told him. ¡°You¡¯ve a decent head on your shoulders, use it.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°And I¡¯m telling you I haven¡¯t the slightest clue!¡± the boy protested loudly. His teacher frowned, ¡°Very well. Then we shall end this lesson early. Think on what this was meant to teach you and when you¡¯ve an idea find me and I¡¯ll set up another lesson.¡± Alec scowled but didn¡¯t protest further, picking up his blade before saluting his foe/partner as curtly as he felt he could get away with before stalking away to go to sleep. Saiko shook his head as the boy left, noting the sullen sunkenness in the boy¡¯s shoulders, ¡°That could have gone a lot better.¡± Anita shrugged, ¡°Could have gone worse. It can always go worse.¡± ¡°It can always go better too,¡± Saiko riposted. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a pessimist.¡± The vampire shook her head, ¡°I¡¯m an optimist at heart. To expect the worst from any situation means you can never be disappointed, all the surprises are joyous ones.¡± She smiled warmly at him. The merc couldn¡¯t suppress a shudder; child vampires creeped him out. Though not the norm, they were popping up more and more often, at least according to some of his friends in the monster-hunting business. On the mage side of the border. Something about the increasing social acceptability of the undead in modern society, though that was just what the younger hunters said, the old ones, grizzled steel-stubbled bastards to a one, the ones who had stopped being quick a very long time ago and had to settle for smart and underhanded, they simply smiled sadly when the subject was broached, but they wouldn¡¯t talk about it. Usually, child vampires were ¡®mission of mercy¡¯ cases though Saiko couldn¡¯t see anything merciful about it. True, their lives were being saved, but saved for what? Eternity trapped in a child¡¯s body, unable to form adult connections, forced to watch your friends and peers age and grow, and eventually wither and die, whilst forever trapped in a body their mind had long outgrown. A lot of adults weren¡¯t equipped to handle that sort of trauma. He¡¯d heard almost a quarter of vampires chose to greet the sun within their first three decades though Saiko doubted that. In his experience, when a vampire snapped, they snapped, and it was time to clear out or arm up before your corpse was part of an art exhibit with a central theme of red. From what he¡¯d heard, child vampires were worse. Anita met his eyes and, he judged, read rather more than he¡¯d have liked from them. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I haven¡¯t killed anyone in years.¡± ¡°That¡¯s reassuring,¡± Saiko said dryly. ¡°Sorry your practice got aborted.¡± ¡°Hardly practice, barely even qualified as fun,¡± she complained, raising a hand that was rapidly turning into claws. ¡°Care to go a few rounds? I¡¯ll take it easy on you.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be sure not to return the favour,¡± Saiko replied smoothly. The best part of an hour later, nursing a swollen eye, a split lip and some stinging of light cuts, he found himself approached by the necromancer. ¡°What do you want?¡± he demanded. He¡¯d been aware of the magician watching for some time, though he¡¯d been courteous enough not to interrupt. Black always showed up bizarrely well in darkness. ¡°Just curious as to why Alec can almost be classified as a walking bruise,¡± Erebus said. ¡°He came to you to complain?¡± the merc revising his estimate of the boy downward. ¡°Nothing so dramatic. The boy stopped by the infirmary to get some salve for his bruises, I merely happened to be the healer on duty.¡± ¡°And here you are to question my methods,¡± the swordmaster pointed out, voice sourer than acid. ¡°I understand your methods. It¡¯s an unfair world so you¡¯ve given him an unfair opponent, someone he would not normally consider a threat then have him crushed mercilessly and repeatedly so he¡¯ll treat all opponents no matter their lack of stature or obvious physical prowess with wariness and respect.¡± Erebus paused just long enough for Saiko to nod. ¡°Have you considered that the boy¡¯s spirit might break under such methods? He¡¯s been through a lot lately.¡± ¡°I have,¡± the swordsman answered with defensive haste and testiness. ¡°Personally I¡¯d say Alec is made of sterner stuff than that. And if he isn¡¯t¡­ then better he breaks here than out there.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± his former foe replied. ¡°I just wanted to make sure you were thinking about these things.¡± Saiko nodded, prepared to accept the olive branch on offer, ¡°Why all this interest in the boy? Don¡¯t get me wrong, I like the lad but you¡¯ve gone to great lengths to protect him and at great risk to yourself.¡± ¡°Our host has been sharing his theories I see,¡± Erebus remarked, rolling his eyes. ¡°Not even slightly. Why? What does he think?¡± ¡°That Alec is my son who I¡¯ve kept hidden for years under Lutan¡¯s nose.¡± The some-time assassin gave that a moment¡¯s thought, ¡°No.¡± ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡± ¡°Still doesn¡¯t answer my question though.¡± ¡°Maybe not but let me ask you a question, why should I not have saved the boy?¡± Erebus smiled slightly, the guise of amateur philosopher one he wore with the familiarity and comfort of an old coat. ¡°I¡¯m not your apprentice. Nor am I an idiot. Please stop evading.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± the necromancer replied with steady finality. ¡°My reasons are my own and shall remain so.¡± ¡°I can respect that. I¡¯ve some other things I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you, if you¡¯ve no objections.¡± ¡°I will listen to your questions, though I cannot promise you answers,¡± Erebus replied, hedging his bets, still unsure where Saiko¡¯s loyalties lay and finding the sellsword both perceptive and likeable, always a dangerous combination. ¡°Very well,¡± Saiko agreed and the sotto voce negotiations over, ploughed on with his question. ¡°What exactly is a grey mage?¡± The necromancer laughed, ¡°Technically I am, as I¡¯m sure Lutan said many times. Let me guess you didn¡¯t want to appear ignorant in front of your employer so just smiled and nodded whilst making appropriate defamatory remarks, possibly concerning my parentage?¡± ¡°It tended to do the job.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a rather old and dated title, seldom used since the line between healing and necromancy got really blurry,¡± Erebus explained. ¡°It refers to a magician who is an acknowledged master of a ¡®white art¡¯ ¡ª usually healing ¡ª and a ¡®black art¡¯ such as necromancy.¡± ¡°With white representing good and black representing evil,¡± Saiko observed. ¡°Naturally, though the original reason many of the more morally murky arts were called black magic is that their practice traditionally took place under the cover of darkness, and thus for purposes of juxtaposition any magic that was perceived as good became white. Next question.¡± ¡°Very droll. Here¡¯s a question, I thought most mages only focused on the one art so why would you split your attention between two magics which are antithetical to each other?¡± ¡°Because they aren¡¯t, or at least the traditional combination of necromancy and healing aren¡¯t, they compliment each other magnificently, and the longevity both give gives more than enough time to study both. Both require a near unrivalled knowledge of anatomy and both in times of war have the effect of keeping as many troops in fighting condition as possible.¡± ¡°Very pragmatic.¡± ¡°The magicians who survived the constant warring with the Paladin Order had to be pragmatic. The peace we are enjoying now, the same peace Lutan would see shattered is a result of that pragmatism.¡± ¡°I know my history.¡± Saiko growled, ¡°Just because I¡¯m a mercenary does not mean I¡¯m an idiot.¡± ¡°Never said you were. Lutan¡¯s no fool and unless you¡¯re the secret heir of some lost kingdom I can¡¯t think of any reason he¡¯d keep a sellsword for an advisor other than that you give good advice.¡± ¡°You never had the pleasure of Lord Owen¡¯s conversation,¡± he replied dryly. ¡°I assure you his swordsmanship was superior in all aspects.¡± ¡°The knight?¡± Erebus hazarded. There was a nod and a smile, ¡°Made advisory meetings all but intolerable.¡± ¡°What exactly would he suggest?¡± ¡°Oh the classics. He really believed the whole ¡®down with magic¡¯ spiel Lutan preached, particularly the concept of tainted by association.¡± ¡°I presume from your derision that you weren¡¯t a believer?¡± Saiko gave him a hardbitten look, ¡°Of course I believe, I believe whatever I¡¯m paid to.¡± The smile shared wouldn¡¯t have been out of place on a pair of sharks. Silence reigned briefly between them until ¡°What are the boy¡¯s chances?¡± the mercenary asked. ¡°Good. I¡¯ve found a¡­ specialist who should be able to solve the problem.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you and Alec be with him then?¡± ¡°If only it were so simple, unfortunately Pheus requires Alec to be sharing Holly¡¯s nightmare state.¡± ¡°I know it probably doesn¡¯t change anything between us but I do regret the null collar and I did speak out against it.¡± Erebus closed his eyes in contemplation, ¡°You¡¯re right, it doesn¡¯t change anything.¡± ¡°Shall we part ways now?¡± Saiko said quietly. ¡°It would be a pity to end on a note of discord.¡± ¡°There is no discord,¡± Erebus assured him. ¡°There is nothing to be done about the past, just have care for your future.¡± The master magician lowered his voice to the deep quiet of a conspirator, ¡°Our dear patron has plans for you, and as I respect him I would play nice even if I despised you, which for the record I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°What sort of plans?¡± the mercenary queried as a cavalcade of red flags danced in his mind¡¯s eye. ¡°Well the term ¡®apprentice¡¯ may have been tossed around, as might have been ¡®successor.¡± Erebus had seldom had just cause to use the word flabbergasted, but this certainly seemed to qualify as Saiko seemed to be giving his best impression, and it certainly was a convincing one, of a freshly landed pike. ¡°But he¡¯s the finest swordsman on the continent!¡± Saiko managed after the best part of a minute stammering over the first letter. ¡°Which makes him rather qualified to make such a judgement. He think¡¯s you¡¯ve a natural talent which needs refining.¡± ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± the mercenary asked. ¡°I think you can guess.¡± ¡°Lutan,¡± Saiko answered. ¡°Indeed. I felt, though The Swordsman disagrees, that knowing the opportunity available to you might affect your choices should agents of your old boss come a-calling.¡± ¡°So you don¡¯t actually trust me.¡± ¡°I trust you to act in your best interests and so I felt it only fair you were able to make a well-informed choice.¡± ¡°As I said you don¡¯t trust me.¡± ¡°I trust you the same as I trust anyone else, I trust you to act within the confines of your personality.¡± ¡°But you don¡¯t know me,¡± Saiko objects. ¡°Are you familiar with the phrase ¡®know the man, know the method¡¯?¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± the sellsword replied, not sure where the necromancer was going with this. ¡°Then by the same virtue to know the method is to know the man, and so you¡¯ll find I do in fact know you rather well sellsword.¡± Saiko glared, ¡°How do you know Lutan¡¯s people aren¡¯t already here, laying in wait?¡± ¡°You¡¯d have told us.¡± This was met with a doubtful look, ¡°I said I know you. You¡¯re a natural survivor, you¡¯d tell us just to hedge your bets. I get assassinated and we can¡¯t blame you and you remain in favour with Lutan. Whereas if we foiled any such attempts then you gain favour in our eyes and Lutan never finds out.¡± Saiko considered protesting, but unfortunately, it was all true. ¡°You¡¯re disturbingly perceptive for a necromancer. The ones I¡¯ve met tended to spend all of their time wittering on about if truth is beauty then is beauty truth and whether it¡¯s possible to hear falling trees.¡± ¡°I¡¯m the other kind of necromancer,¡± Erebus replied with a quiet smile. ¡°You remember those evil bastards who starred in the old tales? I¡¯m one of them.¡± The mercenary laughed nervously, ¡°I¡¯m beginning to see that.¡± ¡°One last question before I leave you in peace. Did you know what Lutan had planned for Von Mori?¡± There was an edge to the question, and despite Seruatis¡¯ ban on non-consensual violence and Erebus¡¯ earlier assurances of good intent, Saiko knew that if he gave the wrong answer, then the peace he¡¯d be left in would be a final one. ¡°I knew he had a plan but I didn¡¯t even expect what it involved. My guess was some careful legal obfuscation under the auspices of the Accords.¡± The mercenary shook his head in disbelief, ¡°If I had any idea at all well¡­ contract be damned I¡¯d be being led blindfolded through the Stonegaze mountains right now.¡± ¡°What do you know about the soul binding he used?¡± Erebus asked, sallow and troubled. ¡°Well, emerald focus, but you already knew that and I¡¯ve no idea where he got one that large, but very intricate runes inside it, four dimensional layering.¡± ¡°Four?¡± the necromancer spluttered. ¡°Are you absolutely sure it wasn¡¯t a trick of the light?¡± ¡°Beyond a shadow of a doubt. I even asked.¡± ¡°Most troubling¡­ and Lutan had his armour on during the activation?¡± This was met with a curt nod, ¡°Very troubling indeed, the only way to get a spell-trap that intricate in the presence of nullstone is to use enchanted null for the runes.¡± It was Saiko¡¯s turn to splutter, ¡°Impossible. I¡¯ve never even heard the legend of a craftsman that good.¡± ¡°I know of just two able to pull off such a work of power and skill. They¡¯re both here as it happens.¡± ¡°The Smith,¡± Saiko guessed, glancing at the currently inactive acceleration rings on his fingers, ¡°and¡­?¡± ¡°The Runemaker; what you¡¯ve described is exactly his area of expertise.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t see it if I¡¯m honest. How would Lutan even know he existed?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to tell you. There are confidences I can¡¯t betray.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t or won¡¯t?¡± ¡°Does it matter?¡± the centuries-old mage replied, smile terribly sad and desperately weary. ¡°You know how the game is played.¡± ¡°Blood contract or worse?¡± ¡°Does it need to be worse?¡± Erebus replied. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take my leave now, though I fear your candour has merely spawned more questions.¡± Saiko watched the necromancer with a mixture of dark amusement and respect. He wondered what guesses the magician was keeping to himself. He¡¯d certainly been right about most of it. Once he was sure Erebus was gone, he split into a full grin; it was time to hedge his bets. Chapter 15 - Here There Be Monsters ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° * ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 16 - The Dreamscape ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Chapter 17 - A Conversation With A Nightmare ¡° ¡° ¡°a lot of encouragement, I¡¯ve seen larger egos in automata.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡­ ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. * ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡®You could just ask you know?¡¯ Alec pointed out with a mental chuckle. ¡° ¡®Who else?¡¯ ¡®How are you doing this?¡¯ she asked, still incredulous. Just how much had she missed last month? ¡®Erebus had me doing meditations for a month, as well as some limited mental contact. Sensed you in my thoughts, thought I¡¯d try to reply. Looks like it worked.¡¯ ¡®Looks like it did.¡¯ Holly agreed, impressed despite herself. ¡®So what were you rummaging around in my head for? I sensed you had a question but not much more than that.¡¯ ¡®Erebus dismissed me from the infirmary, he thinks there¡¯s going to be an argument, no idea why, but didn¡¯t want me hearing it so probably secret necromancer stuff. I was told to find you, but I don¡¯t know where you are.¡¯ ¡®In the cafeteria.¡¯ ¡®I know that,¡¯ which, in sheer frustration, she yelled aloud as well. ¡®Where is it?¡¯ ¡®Oh¡­ uh where are you?¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t know!¡¯ ¡®Well can you get back to the infirmary? I can guide you from there.¡¯ ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° * ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Epilogue ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. * ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° * ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Oathbound Q&A Q1: What else can you tell us about the series, where is it going? The huge focus for me when writing Oathbound was trying to examine how hard it is to hold a person to account when they have too much power, be it political or personal as well as pushing Erebus as far as he could be pushed through his moral code, up to and including accepting his own death. As to where it''s going... that''s a tough one to answer in terms of the overarching series due to the dangers of spoiling major events. What I will say is that the focus on Oathbound was on the cost to Erebus of adhering to his morals, the sequel, Oathkeeper, will focus on the cost it has on his friends. Q2: Obviously you''re not going to reveal the gender bender, but what made you want to write that? and when you did, or are doing what kind of challenges did you find or might you come up against. In that sense, do you have sensitivity editors? or good beta/alpha readers? Ah the gender bender tag, I often regret adding it so early in the day, or at all really. As to what made me want to write it, I didn''t, not really. Like a number of things that happened in Oathbound, such as Erebus'' surrender or Holly''s unconsciousness, the gender bend element arose as a consequence of choices I''d made in the worldbuilding and how certain facts interacted with each other. Short version, and carefully avoiding who it is, I''d have had to restart how the magic works from scratch or drastically alter some major character arcs to avoid the gender bender aspects to come in Volume 3. I''m somewhat tentative even calling it gender bending, that''s not quite right but it''s as close to what''s going to happen as Royal Road has a tag for and close enough I feel I can put it in good conscience. I do have sensitivity readers, for Oathkeeper onwards, in some ways they''ve made my job a lot less scary as I want to examine difficult issues in my work and the last thing I want to do is hurt someone in the process. I, and my future stomach ulcers, just wish I could say they agreed with one another on anything whatsoever. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Q3: This is or looks a big series, how long are you planning for? I have plans for up to seven books in the main series as well as plans for three stand alone novels that will address aspects of the world that I simply won''t be able to in the main series. The problem with a species of demon that lives at the bottom of the ocean in total darkness and silence, fearing every day they''ll be wiped from Reath if discovered by one of the leviathans that roam the oceans, is it makes them awfully hard to loop them into the story. Q4: What made you go to amazon first, rather than here? That''s a surprisingly complicated question. Part of it is ego I suppose, I was turned down by the major publishers, at least those few still accepting fantasy novels but a small publisher did accept my book, provided an editor and offered me a cover artist (though I went with an artist I knew who''s art I was a huge fan of). This novel has been posted here with the publisher''s permission thanks to the argument of ''If noone ever sees it noone can ever buy it'' carrying the day though I will almost certainly have to take most of it down when the Kindle edition is ready down the line. Another part was that I wasn''t sure if Oathbound would even be a good fit for Royal Road given the prevalence of LitRPG and xianxia over other forms of fantasy, only deciding that even if it flubbed completely that was no good reason not to at least try. While it hasn''t been an unmitigated success I am happy with the results I''ve had in building a small following which will hopefully stand me in good stead for the sequels. Q5: What''s your writing schedule? and do you prefer coffee or tea! I try to write every day, and have been getting better and better at it, putting in an average of five hours a day on weekdays now. And I prefer tea all the way, black with a splash of oat milk. On a related tangent I am hoping to move my upload schedule to twice a week, it will be a strain and I may have to stop but I do think I''m writing enough to do it. My big problem there is my philosophy isn''t to use set chapter lengths, when the chapter is done it''s done. Anywho that covers all the questions I received. Oathkeeper; The Conspiracy of Fire and Shadow will begin here next week with three chapters being dropped at once. By that point the Patreon will up to Chapter 11. Oathkeeper; The Conspiracy of Fire and Shadow - Prologue It is a commonly held belief that rumour can exceed even light¡¯s notorious speed, spreading cancer-like through a population. Whilst this was not technically true, rumour could get places light could not, it seeped through walls, crept through stone and stepped through doors without even bothering to knock. The rumour today was a juicy one indeed; Erebus the Grey Mage, Vanquisher of K¡¯dain, Faebane and Daemonfriend was a captive of the Paladin order. It even had the advantage of being true, but the people who would prove most interested were also the kind not to go on rumour alone where an enemy was concerned. It would take vital hours to confirm it through official channels, fortunately for Erebus¡¯ friends and allies did operate off rumour. Still some were slow to take precautions, perhaps they thought their positions would protect them, or that they were too insignificant to make anyone¡¯s list, or perhaps they just didn¡¯t hear the rumour. Whatever it was the overnight death toll was staggering. Deep in the Necropolis three necromancers leading an exploration party of senior students through their first tour of the Wraith Vaults only had time to scream as wards flickered then failed. In Velmide, Pala and Delen, herbalists renowned for their sensory enhancements potions, were found slain in their beds, no visible wounds upon them but faces a rictus of terror. In the great paladin capital of New Pax vampire slayer Johannes the Grim would be seen chasing his quarry into a darkened alley only for neither prey nor predator to ever be seen again. And that was just some of the easy fare, the pieces that could be plucked casually from the board with their guardian unable to object. For those who would be able to aid the condemned mage rather than benefitted from his protection a more sincere effort was required¡­ * The blizzard battered against the shield of the small strike team trudging through the snow, they¡¯d been inserted by mirror (the object prepared decades ago for when such an attack was viable), just twenty miles away from the uncreatively named Winterhome Castle, ancestral home of the Aegis Borealis, or so it was said, in truth the Aegis was too young an organisation to really qualify for an ancestral home. A young entity on Contemnere, weighing in at a mere century, it had been a thorn in the sides of many for its staunch, bordering upon fanatical, defence of its borders, a near perfect pentagram of forts, fortresses, walls and castles (each enchanted to the last stone) to guard its heart where the Queen of Ice made her lair, not the Queen of Winter, one of the fae ¨C it was a common mistake which had cost scores of lives ¨C but the ruler of the frozen wastes and rolling tundras of the north. There was no trade to speak of, and no ships even dared try and slip past its waters anymore ¨C to the fury and despair of many a merchant. Few were allowed within, cryomancers and a few aeromancers were permitted to enter for the purpose of joining their ranks, but of actual visitors there were very few indeed. But though many had wished to bring down the self proclaimed Shield of the North it had weathered every effort until now. It had taken years for the Vedec Enchanter¡¯s Syndicate to get the mirror so deep inside. They hadn¡¯t dared enchant it for fear the tiny drop of mana would be noticed by a patrolling mage, and to get an actual person past the circle of the pentagram of defences was all but impossible. Some meticulous scrying and long ranged telekinesis done by a full coven had moved it a few feet a night until it had finally penetrated deep enough that Winterhome was just a mile away. Even dropped almost on the doorstep of their target it wasn¡¯t easy going, the blizzard battered against their wards, air deflection ones rather than something truly helpful like temperature stasis. They didn¡¯t dare use fire or ice magics this close to the Queen, it would be less the equivalent of putting up a flare and more like putting on a fireworks display. The only thing holding back the bitter winter chill was their thick clothing and the wards to stop the wind. Even with them Troubleshooter Madain was bleeding from several cuts where an errant piece of hail had punched through the ward and sliced into flesh, nothing deep but enough to know they¡¯d be carved to ribbons without them. All six of them were feeding their magic into the totem powering it. They couldn¡¯t see the target, and this far north the compass was useless, so they just had to trust their sense of direction and the occasional pathfinding spell to reorient. It was perilous work, but this wasn¡¯t the first heavyweight they¡¯d expunged for the Syndicate, the more powerful of the magically inclined were arrogant to a fault and seldom took lesser mages seriously and though they lacked the sheer power of the Queen any two of them should be able to take her. Six of them was frankly overkill. At least it should have been six, as Madain did a headcount of his squad and found it one short, maybe the cold had gotten to them or they¡¯d simply fallen behind, either way outside the ward they¡¯d have been killed swiftly. At least they hadn¡¯t gotten any spells off that would reveal their approach. It did present a problem though, in the thigh deep snow it was slow going and with only five to share the strain of the spell even slower still but they still should have been able to make it. The next time one of them dropped Madain saw it, for just an instant, an icicle that might as well have been an arrow, hidden amongst the hail and snow, took Salah in her goggles, piercing through the spell-forged glass as only a magical projectile could, the wardmistress, a twenty year veteran in the Syndicate dropped without even a gasp. ¡°Ambush!¡± He yelled, whirling, but the sound of it was swallowed by the storm, still it wasn¡¯t hard to work it out, with them now at four strong and their leader clearly bursting into action, the four erected a true shield spell, a barrier against kinetics to stop the storm outright. It didn¡¯t help, another icicle punched through, shattering on Madain¡¯s personal shield, the artifact now active. Again a moment of insight as it shattered, the Troubleshooter able to see the runes inscribed, perhaps even grown, into the ice that were allowing it to punch through a shield that would have held up to a minor meteor strike. The four moved back to back, shrinking the shield to make it more efficient, and finally it began to hold up to the impacts as they searched for a target, but whatever was striking them was invisible in the blizzard and out of range of any more esoteric senses. All they could do was endure the bombardment. An hour later, as the storm subsided for a few scant minutes there was no trace of the bodies buried in the snow, the landscape smooth, snow white and glistening as the strike team vanished without trace, unknowing that they¡¯d never even been noticed by their enemy, the icicles just a defence measure placed into the storm as a precaution. Just like every attempt before them. * Karatas Du Pois was a man with a lot of friends and very few enemies, something bordering on a miracle for the Paladin Ambassador to the Necropolis. Polite, kind to a fault and humble to boot, it was hard to put a flaw to his name, but if one were to put a flaw to it it would be the way he¡¯d used his position to protect his old commander. Using his influence amongst the Paladin Order to protect him from necromantic reprisal and vice versa. And worse the man was aware of secrets the Umbral Temple would see taken to his grave, a secret held by only two outside the temple. The two legendary survivors of the Maltz debacle had committed the cardinal sin by knowing there was a third who had, after a little bit of magical skulduggery, walked away as well. Now with the opportunity to remove one and weaken the other the temple acted. Deep in the night, before morning would break the news to him of his friend and mentor¡¯s peril, death found its way into his family¡¯s quarters in the Necropolis. Three of the Umbral Temple¡¯s Nightblades, every bit the darkest stereotypes of umbramancers, able to move unnoticed wherever they chose, leaving bodies in their wake. These three were well known to the Necropolis, they knew its people well, with their organisations maintaining close ties since time immemorial, it was therefore child¡¯s play to bypass the wards on the room. When they made the final shadowstep inside it was from over a mile away, no witness would be able to put them near it. Alamaya would confess to being conflicted on this one, and she¡¯d have been surprised if it wasn¡¯t a feeling shared amongst them though they all were far too professional to put voice to their misgivings. She knew Karatas, knew him well enough there was a good chance she¡¯d end up invited to his bloody funeral, and she knew Jonas did as well. Hells she knew the kids who¡¯s bedroom door they ghosted past, shadows tightening around them to muffle their footsteps, the unreal made soft and solid. And yet she swore she could hear each footprint like the clang of a funeral bell. This was insane! What possible prize could be worth this? Even with all the deniability in the world this was going to a major incident for the Necropolis, a paladin ambassador murdered on their soil. What she was doing now could start a war. Could start The War. Still she didn¡¯t turn back even as the same technique put silent a hinge that Neia, the ambassador¡¯s long suffering wife, had long complained was far too noisy, and no amount of oiling seemed to fix. This wasn¡¯t the kind of job you could just quit, even if Inigo and Jonas went along with it they¡¯d spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders. As Alamaya ghosted across the floor to the bed where the couple was sleeping there¡¯d be a soft little gasp from Jonas, followed by a muffled thud as his long knife hit the carpet. It¡¯s normally at this point in a tale that she would say something like ¡®and it saved her life¡¯ but the terrible truth was it had been far, far too late the moment they¡¯d entered Karatas¡¯ quarters. Turning on a heel to chastise her noisy subordinate she¡¯d find herself the only person in the room bar the sleeping couple. She didn¡¯t cry out in shock, responding swiftly by erecting a kinetic barrier but she doubted it would do much good, whatever had happened to Jonas and Inigo for all it had been fast it had none of the hallmarks of high impact magic. Out of the corner of her eye the Nightblade caught movement, something in the shadows only to whirl and find it behind her again. And then the attacker revealed itself. Alamaya gasped, her barrier dropping and her blade fell from suddenly numb fingers as she simply stared while the shadows in the room began to shift, parting to reveal what could have been mistaken for a hole in the world itself. A patch of perfect darkness, a silhouette stood upright and casting no shadow of its own, advancing slowly towards her. The Nightblades were considered peerless assassins, unnoticeable unless they wanted you to and singularly patient when needed, for no one could maintain their guard all the time. But the Umbral Temple had forgotten they were not the only ones with an interest in the necromancer, and some of them had access to real monsters. She knew what this was, but for a moment she simply couldn¡¯t believe it. She¡¯d seen it¡¯s like before, hovering at the edge of where the shadow world met reality ¨C though they could only be seen shadow-side ¨C the nightmare that haunted the entire art of umbramancy, devourer of mages, no defence worked, no offence mattered a damn. They¡¯d called it simply ¡®Them¡¯ for fear that to give it a name might give it the strength needed to pass into this world. The idea that one might fully manifest in the realm of shadow was the worst fear no one ever spoke about. The idea that one might manifest in the real world would have required sedatives. ¡°M-m-m-mo-mo-m-mon-monst¡­¡± There was a flicker in the air and the Nightblade¡¯s head slid smoothly from her shoulders as Neia sat up in the bed, one hand extended where she¡¯d channelled an airblade. Before the blood splatter could coat the room the creature struck, consuming the corpse even as it plummeted towards the floor. Neia stared at the terror that lurked in the heart of all shadow mages, hand still outstretched and the magic still glowing in the spell-ring she¡¯d worn to bed, old habits died hard afterall, and old mages died even harder. As she took in the wound in the world that walked she¡¯d let out a soft sigh of relief, lowering her hand, ¡°Susan. Call me paranoid but I¡¯m going to presume this isn¡¯t a social call.¡± ¡°Sorry Nei.¡± The shadow said, expression not just unreadable but nonexistant, though her voice was soft and genuinely contrite, ¡°I need to borrow your idiot.¡± The necromancer gave a little half-shrug, not yet elbowing her husband awake, ¡°How many were they? Are the kids-?¡± ¡°Just three, and no, they never did more than glance at the door.¡± Susan assured her, ¡°Though perhaps for your peace of mind you should go check.¡± ¡°And don¡¯t press my ear to the door while you talk. Got it.¡± Neia¡¯s laugh was a bit strained as she gently shook her husband awake. It turned out waking the soldier turned diplomat would take a while, the man, now in his fifties but due to the perks of his position still appearing in his late twenties clearly hadn¡¯t kept the youthful vigour that should have gone with it. Still after a brief rub of sleep from his eyes and a couple slaps to his stubbled face, applied by his own hand to help shock himself awake he¡¯d be sat at rapt attention to listen to Susan as Neia left the room to give them some privacy, and check on the kids. Despite Susan¡¯s assurances part of her had to make sure for herself. ¡°So want to tell me why I¡¯ve got blood soaking into my carpet?¡± He asked tiredly, rubbing at heavily bagged eyes, an extended youth hadn¡¯t meant lots of sleep. ¡°Oh Neia got that one before I did.¡± Susan explained, a shrug barely noticeable from the silhouette. ¡°Cute.¡± Karatas growled ¨C attempted murders made him cranky. ¡°Fine, fine, always so hasty even now you¡¯re old and crotchety.¡± She observed, sitting down beside him, but keeping a fair distance to ensure they couldn¡¯t touch even by accident. ¡°Our mutual friend is in trouble.¡± ¡°And they¡¯re worried I might what? Pick up a sword and go charging off to the rescue?¡± He snorted, trying not to blow up at his friend, and the unofficial survivor of Maltz ¡°More likely write a strongly worded letter. If I¡¯d left a body you¡¯d have the Umbral Temple by the shorthairs right now.¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. ¡°That would have been useful.¡± It wasn¡¯t quite a chastisement. ¡°I try not to screw over my own people when stopping them from doing something stupid.¡± Susan replied, and though she had no gaze to avoid Karatas still got the sense she was avoiding his. ¡°Yeah I know, I know.¡± He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, ¡°When you catch up to him, tell him¡­ tell him I can¡¯t help him this time. And that I¡¯m sorry.¡± This time he was the one avoiding her gaze, instead focusing on the blood soaking into his carpet. ¡°Anything I can do or say to change your mind?¡± She asked gently, somehow that was worse than what he¡¯d envisaged, he could have taken being called a coward, wanted it even, but that quiet disappointment hurt. ¡°I¡¯ve got kids Sue, your folks at least keep it impersonal, but what if someone had decided to ¡®send a message¡¯. No, I owe him more than I can put in words but I just can¡¯t this time.¡± ¡°What about if I can get him to the Necropolis?¡± She tried, one last attempt for old time¡¯s sake. ¡°If you can somehow manage that, then yeah, I¡¯ll write some strongly worded letters as you put it.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t ask for more than that.¡± And with that she moved back into the shadows and was gone. Karatas wished he hadn¡¯t felt his honour go with her. * Argyris Alchemists & Artificery, or Triple A to those who made regular use of its services, was one of those places that never slept. Even if there had been no people around, and there always were at least a few whether it was someone abusing the twilight hours to etch runes into a breastplate without fear of someone distracting them at a crucial moment, catching up on the latest alchemical almanac or illegally testing their latest potion on themselves, the place bustled with the activity of the golems that did a lot of the heavy lifting, monitored the vats and, under careful supervision combined with a total lack of self-preservation, were programmed to try and make more golems. Yet tonight silence had finally fallen upon Triple A, leaving Lydia Argyris, last scion of the Argyris line who had owned and operated Triple A since its inception centuries ago, to wonder just how she had allowed it to come to this as she hid behind one of the alchemy tables in a barricaded lab. If there was another living soul left in Triple A she¡¯d have been surprised, even she had survived on luck and she would have liked to believe she knew the complex better than anyone, though clearly not well enough. She had been in her personal artifact lab when it had all gone wrong, her and three journeymen, who would likely have been acknowledged masters anywhere else, had been putting the finishing touches to a potion of regeneration, always a tricky business given its tendency to react to any organic matter at all. Noone wanted a repeat of the Skin-Cell Simulacra incident, especially so soon after dinner. People often assumed the hard part was the regeneration itself, those people were, in Lydia¡¯s considered opinion, morons. The hard part was getting it to stop. She¡¯d been dressed in full safety gear and directing the golems to add the last ingredient, two grams of powdered unicorn hair freely given (for a vat she could nearly swim in), when all hell had broken loose. One of the golems, a vision of quartz and silver, had grabbed one of her colleagues, she hadn¡¯t been able to tell who past all the protective gear, and thrown him into the vat. Without the unicorn hair there had been no stopping agent, the results had been¡­ unpleasant. If she survived this she was definitely going to pay a handsome sum to have the memory of those screams removed. To her credit she didn¡¯t freeze, presume a malfunction or try to negotiate with what might be a rogue golem that had gained sapience, Lydia ran for the door, sealing it behind her. It was cold-blooded but there was no way that the door would hold long and her employees would buy vital seconds to get to one of the artificeries and grab a weapon or one of the on-site guards to put down what had to be a sabotaged golem. That had been the plan at least, the blood in the corridors told a different story, not one sabotaged golem but many, the strength of the factory turned against itself. Lydia had tried anyway, suspecting it was futile as she crept from lab to lab, trying her hardest not to step in the blood and gore, not out of any particular squeamishness but a desire not to leave a trail. The golems of the lab were as intelligent as she¡¯d been allowed to make them. Not actually sapient, not capable of learning, but with such an extensive list of responses to stimuli it would have been hard to tell without a lot of observation ¨C that or a brief conversation. She wanted to say she¡¯d nearly made it but honestly it hadn¡¯t even been close, there¡¯d been a golem guarding the armoury and, going by the way two of her colleague¡¯s skulls would need professional assistance to pick the shards out the walls, they weren¡¯t inclined to help. There was something tragic about the idea of being stuck in a weapons factory unable to get her hands on anything more dangerous than a hammer. She¡¯d kept the hammer, tucking it into her belt as she snuck out of battlestave assembly. It wouldn¡¯t achieve anything. On even a cheap clay golem, as much as a golem could be cheap, you¡¯d need a sledgehammer and the muscles to back it up to achieve anything and Triple A¡¯s golems were far from cheap. They started at things like marble and azure and got more excessively grandiose from there. It hadn¡¯t been pure ego, alchemy could be strange at times, sometimes even gold, infamous in mortal chemistry for its sheer lack of reaction, could set a potion off catastrophically, and the bizarre assortment of materials used in Triple A golems usually resulted from a specific need for something that wouldn¡¯t detonate, dissolve or deform on contact with the product. Over centuries they¡¯d built up quite the eclectic collection and now it was coming back to bite her. With the armoury unavailable she had two choices left, other than just waiting to die, get down to the loading dock where there would be weapons aplenty, a bit of a trek down through three floors ¨C perhaps not having external windows had been a mistake ¨C but not out of the question, or head to her private office, much closer and it had her trouble kit but it always had two golems guarding it, each handcrafted by herself. And therein lay the big question, how had Triple A¡¯s golems been subverted, one was perhaps understandable, a traitor in maintenance, a recent alteration, it was doable, not easy but not the kind of thing tales would be sung about either. To subvert the entire golem staff¡­? She had a suspicion about that. There was no way to hide that level of tampering, which either meant someone had managed to buy off, corrupt or blackmail her entire maintenance department, twenty men and women all told, and while it wasn¡¯t out of the question that a few had been bought off or pressured her people came from such a wide variety of backgrounds and institutions that it was hard to imagine a single serpent capable of it or a broad enough coalition of malefactors to achieve the same without internal discord outing them. Which left option two; that the golems had been replaced entirely. The audacity of it was breathtaking but it was the only conclusion Lydia could reach as she slunk slowly up a stairwell to the fifth floor, darting quickly back down a few steps as she saw a patrolling golem step past the door, the artificer running the theory over and over in her head, partly to keep her mind busy but mostly because she was about to stake her life on it. If she was right then the replacement would have to take place during maintenance, it would be the work of years to get all the details needed to create a replica able to pass that level of inspection and then have a copy made and swapped in. Who and why could wait until they were staring down the tip of her wand, but if she was right about how then just maybe she had a chance, because the golems that guarded her office had never been worked on by anyone other than herself, and even that within said office, they should still be clean. Still programmed to protect her person, and unlike the rest these ones had been explicitly designed with combat in mind. Much to her surprise she made it, finding the corridor to her office indeed defended. In fact she found it a warzone, her two guards engaged in a battle they¡¯d never been designed for but faring well as they went hand to hand with four of the stirring golems, thick, oddly jointed and fairly mobile designs that were posing a surprise threat to two top-of-the-line combat models. It was the programming, as it nearly always was, for all they¡¯d been designed for battle they¡¯d never been intended to fight anything that wasn¡¯t humanoid and the odd disposition of limbs was allowing them to strike blows that even a superlative martial artist would never have landed, a shattered pile of what had been a marble and jade arm evidence of their efficacy. They also clearly weren¡¯t the first, rubble worth a king¡¯s ransom lay heavy upon the floor, enough that Lydia was worried for the floor ¨C it hadn¡¯t been intended for this sort of weight. The problems didn¡¯t end there, she had no way past the melee to the safety of her office, if she were a master mage she probably could have snuck, finessed or simply forced her way through, trusting to shield spells and kinetic bursts to see her safe but as one of the few non-mages at Triple A that was the equivalent of simply wishing she weren¡¯t in danger ¨C which she did. And now the golems had noticed her, trying to disengage from their opponents to rend limb from limb. Her bodyguards nearly got them all, but with only three arms between them and four golems it was never going to work. As Lydia turned to run, knowing she¡¯d never outpace it, she found herself face to face with Mercury Max, the only quicksilver golem on the premises. For a moment she allowed herself hope, if there were any other golem, any other at all, that could have escaped compromise it would be the only liquid golem on the premises. Then Max engulfed her, pouring over the startled woman in a tidal-wave of liquid metal. She¡¯d been so close. * An old man walked unsteadily down the roads of New Pax, weight supported by a five pronged walking stick that was worn close to through and took a wagon out towards the Aegis Borealis, and nothing troubled him for some things scared even monsters. * No sane person would go searching for a vampire inside a volcano, perhaps no sane person would do anything inside a volcano, even suicide, there were much less unpleasant ways to leave the world. Nevertheless if one were to venture deep into the bowels of the Academy Vulcanus, to a small chamber where magma roiled and bubbled beneath a thin spit of rock leading to a small platform barely large enough for a person to sit they would have found Amara Sunwalker, pyromancer, vampire and one time master to a young(er) Erebus the Grey Walker. The woman was sat cross-legged and nude, her clothes the unfortunate victims of a momentary lapse in concentration years ago, ebony skin that should have been roasting in the superheated air not even glistening with sweat as she sat in the silent meditation that had consumed her in the last decade, and would soon end when she finally reached the point of starvation. It was a great honour to be allowed her time, the students of the Academy would work together to assemble a collective heat ward strong enough to last a few questions before the inferno forced them to flee. Anyone with the ability, by whatever means, was permitted to enter. In a few rare cases cryomancers, transitioning to true thermomancy would meet with her, liches with heat wards inscribed into their bones would sit with her, some to seek wisdom, some to test her concentration and resolve. Amara could sense through the fluctuations of temperature in the tunnel to her little sanctum a fresh group approaching, standard heat wards across the board and strong ones going by the way the temperature went from able to melt glass to pleasantly warm. Uniform though, clearly some sort of bought ward. She bit down on her disapproval, with her soul and mood as tightly bound with the volcano as it was after so long here it would be as good as murdering those young souls to hold enmity towards them and besides she had said any method. There were seven of them, five who¡¯s faces she couldn¡¯t make out through the heat haze wearing the vivid crimson of Vulcanus and not the apprentice¡¯s robe either. Now that was surprising, any journeymage accredited by Vulcanus should have no need of such crutches even in this excessive heat, at least not for the duration of a conversation. The other two surprised her, the perfect darkness of their garb, covering every inch of skin as well as hair and eyes along with the lack of a shadow gave away their origin, Umbral Temple. Again there should have been little need for the wards, a skilled umbramancer could use their shadow as a nigh-perfect heatshield and these clearly had the skill. It was a testament of just how far she had to go in her own mastery that the magma below her swirled and bubbled to her confusion. Still even if it showed on the glowing orange-yellow surface below her it didn¡¯t show in voice or face as she greeted them, bowing her head respectfully, ¡°Welcome sisters and brothers. How may I help you?¡± ¡°We uh¡­ that is¡­¡± One of them said clearly not having thought this far. ¡°Speak Brother Malfior. There is no judgement here.¡± She assured him, as her disquiet deepened. Malfior was a master pyromancer, and a personal friend at Vulcanus, skilled enough that not only did he not need a preconstructed heat ward but could have likely gone paddling across the surface of the magma chamber and gotten off with only light burns. There was only one reason for him to bring a heat ward, Amara realised too late as the condensed will of five master pyromancers crashed down upon her own ward as the two Nightblades threw something down at the magma pool. Whatever it was turned out the lights, the magma simply ceasing to glow and plunging the chamber into total darkness as one braved the narrow spit of rock, footing perfect as he ran out to her, weapon in hand. It was a perfect attack on a pyromancer, on a vampire it was lacking. She didn¡¯t need to see to know where her foes were, every heartbeat might as well have been an alarm bell as Amara¡¯s concentration wavered in the few moments it took her to rally her will to match them ¨C and got some nasty flashburns for her trouble ¨C vaulting over the top of the approaching Nightblade and kicking them off the spit and into the magma below. The scream ended almost instantly as he hit the molten rock though whether his heat ward had failed on direct contact or the impact had killed him ¨C magma was only soft in the relative sense ¨C Amara couldn¡¯t tell, and didn¡¯t care, already sprinting down the spit. For all they were skilled fire mages, they were poor combatants, but that was what the remaining Nightblade was for. As the five kept up the pressure on her shield, he lunged at her, keeping her on the spit whilst trying to tag her with his weapon, she couldn¡¯t see what it was but he used it like a club, Amara blocking him carefully at the wrist and forearms, not daring to touch it ¨C the club was certainly enchanted and probably with something nasty. Still she had to do something to get rid of him, for all she could have bested any two of the pyromancers trying to collapse her ward she was barely able to hold it in place against five, each mental blow like a hammer, and like a hammer on stone cracks were beginning to spread. Fortunately for her again the five proved unskilled combatants, instead of just keeping the pressure on and waiting for her to fail one of them ceased their assault to send a beam of pure heat through the rocks, slagging the stone in moments, the slim spit collapsing beneath her feet. With the unnatural strength of the undead she pushed off against the stone, vaulting up high, the Nightblade was not so quick or strong, desperately lunging up and managing to take a grip on the molten stone of what remained of the spit with his left hand, weapon discarded. Letting his fingers sink deep into the lava to the hard stone beneath, heat ward holding strong. Amara stole the heat from the molten rock as she landed, throwing it to splash uselessly against the barriers of the five mages against her. But that hadn¡¯t been the point, the Nightblade¡¯s hand now sealed firmly in place to dangle on the ledge, unable to make the gestures needed to cast his magic. Then she was amongst them, and for all they were masters of fire their hand to hand was beneath pathetic with their magic reflexes sluggish to boot, unable to shift their shields seamlessly from fire to kinetics, with Amara¡¯s vampiric speed it was the work of moments to snap necks and crush throats, leaving just the unfortunate Malfior standing, and even that was just because she was hungry. A decade of isolation and attunement down the drain and she was starved from it, on top of the injuries from the fight she needed to feed and soon, barely hesitating before biting down on the neck of her treacherous friend, not stopping until he¡¯d fallen limp, allowing the body to vanish in the magma pool as it toppled off the ledge. That left just the Nightblade to get answers from, it hadn¡¯t just been blind bloodthirst, Malfior had still been a master of fire and interrogating him for any length of time could have proven difficult with him trying to collapse her ward with his mind until his last breath. The Nightblade had no such capabilities and now unable to flee was the best way to get answers. ¡°I surrender?¡± The sable-robed assassin tried tentatively as she approached him, light starting to return to the magma pool as whatever alchemical powder had been dumped into it finished its work. ¡°Very well.¡± She mused as she stopped by his dangling hand, ¡°Tell me who sent you and why and you walk out of this on your own two feet.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Beneath the hood he looked surprisingly sheepish, and young, they¡¯d sent children to kill her (which was to say someone under a hundred), ¡°I don¡¯t actually know, I just got the order to be outside the tunnel an hour ago, equipment was provided and a description of the target.¡± He paused, clearly realising this wasn¡¯t quite life-saving information and thus adding, ¡°they didn¡¯t know either, just a letter with the right password and seal.¡± ¡°Did they say what the seal was?¡± Amara asked, staring down at him. ¡°One of the major elemental cults, they didn¡¯t say which.¡± He looked up at her hopefully. ¡°Got any next of kin?¡± The vampire inquired politely, smirking as she watched his expression fall into resignation. ¡°If begging for my life would help at all I¡¯m fully prepared to do it,¡± He tried weakly, knowing it was hopeless. To Amara¡¯s credit she considered it, ¡°Afraid I need to minimise the evidence.¡± ¡°Make it quick please.¡± That¡­ was a problem. She couldn¡¯t really approach him without risking being dragged into the magma pool below, nor could she simply free his hand to let him fall as freeing him would let him cast again. Which meant she had to go through the heat ward, quick and painless it wasn¡¯t even as her condensed will brought the chamber up to such a temperature that the walls began to run with cherry red liquid rock, rapidly glowing to a fiery orange. The Nightblade began to scream, his purchased ward too strong to just collapse and too weak to diffuse the heat fast enough. It was a long, slow process, or it would have been if the Nightblade hadn¡¯t reached into his robe with his free hand and cast the ward down into the magma below, gently drifting ash followed it moments later. The vampire would sigh with relief, she was not a fan of torture but she¡¯d been alive way too long to take risks when she didn¡¯t have to. One by one she¡¯d push the bodies off the ledge, letting them be consumed by the churning inferno beneath. Now to get to the bottom of this¡­ * The final ally went unmolested because no one had even thought to look for her. Oathkeeper - Chapter 1 - Prophecy & A Prisoner Alec would have been lying if he said he wasn¡¯t nervous, or rather he had lied, repeatedly. The fourteen year old boy was carefully triplechecking the contents of his pack with Holly¡¯s (somewhat exasperated) help. When he¡¯d arrived in Circulus Seruatis he¡¯d had nothing but the clothes on his back, and even they had been torn, worn and bloodstained. Now that he was leaving it was almost hard to believe the amount he had, and all of it of the finest quality the retired warriors, magicians and craftsfolk of the Protected Circle could devise. His backpack alone was incredible, a black-leathered construction in the necromantic style, with pockets on the side, a large belted main pocket with a Mori-oak bottom, bespelled by runework in the stitching to drastically reduce the weight. If the bottom was removed by an inquisitive soul they¡¯d find an extradimensional space that had been linked to the pack that was twice again its volume, and he needed that space. For all the incredible largesse the pack represented it hadn¡¯t been his only gift. ¡°Flask.¡± He demanded, extending a hand to his roommate who, with a weary if indulgent sigh, handed it to him as if this wasn¡¯t the third time they had done this, with the teen carefully unpacking and repacking everything each time some new gift made its way to the soon-to-be departing teen¡¯s humble abode. ¡°Flask.¡± Holly echoed, handing him the overengineered water receptacle, the wooden container damn near glowed with barely supressed spell backlash, less a flask than a grenade that hadn¡¯t decided if it wanted to explode yet. The cap had been bespelled to siphon water out of the air and into the flask and to glow a particularly eery red in the presence of poisons, dangerous bacteria or other undrinkable contaminants whilst the flask itself was enchanted to neutralise and purge the same. Should the lid be lost he could have pressed any rock of sufficient size to the top and it would be shifted to a perfect fit. Curiosity meant he now had fifteen different lids. Additionally it was bespelled to resist sharp and blunt trauma, to contain twice its volume in water and, after much discussion by the enchanters, to offer a variety of twenty-five flavours of water, changing at random each time the lid was removed. Now if only Alec could persuade them to remove liquorice from the rotation he¡¯d have declared it perfect. With the flask safely stowed in one of the side pockets Alec would glance down at this list for the next item, ¡°Rations.¡± Two weeks worth of hard tack and trail mix tightly wrapped in leaves were handed over to be placed in the bottom of the bag where they would hopefully never see the light of day again. It was only then that Holly handed over what Alec would have described as ¡®the real food¡¯. At first glance and empty wooden lunchcase that would, every midday and evening dispense a still hot meal from the dimensional stasis it had been stored in. Agh¡¯zak Skullcrusher, former orc warlord and now professional chef for all of Seruatis, had provided six months worth of food as well as the loathsome trail mix in case the box malfunctioned. There were some things even a master of the art could not improve. ¡°Firelighters.¡± Alec declared, echoed a moment later by the soulbonded dryad. Twelve small alchemical pods, meticulously sealed and magically hardened to only be openable by mortal touch, were placed in the bag alongside the more traditional flint and steel. ¡°Clothes.¡± A surprisingly large number of articles of clothing were put into the very bottom of the bag, Dus, the Seruatis librarian had rather gone overboard, the ancient gorgon seldom got the chance to exercise her more motherly instincts and had tried to make up for lost time. They wouldn¡¯t be winning any fashion contests, Dus¡¯ fashion sensibilities so out of date they¡¯d not only come back in and out of fashion but in and out of retro as well, not that he¡¯d ever tell her that. ¡°Utensils.¡± A collection of steel cups, bowls and cutlery were put in, nothing too esoteric, for all that Seruatis was obsessed with magical artifacts they¡¯d drawn a line at putting them in their mouths¡­ mostly. ¡°Jacket.¡± The Jacket deserved the capital letters, body armour more than a method of keeping warm and fending off rain though it would serve in that capacity as well, thick leather with a silk lining (for catching arrows), it was enchanted against flame, lightning and, unusually, entropic strikes, with a series of small strike plates stitched into it to protect his vitals. All in the classic black of the necromancer at Alec¡¯s request ¨C there had been discussion of using shadowweaving to really make the fabric dark but it had been vetoed by Dus. It was alas rather heavy though, and Alec was still adjusting to walking around in it for any length of time, it wasn¡¯t an excessive weight but more than a teen would find comfortable. There had been an even heavier jacket, without the enchantments, for him to train in these last two weeks as the eve of his departure had grown near. ¡°Sword.¡± Now the sword was a surprise, in that it was more or less just a sword, specifically a spatha, the near metre long double-edged blade outdated by modern standards with a handguard rather than a full crossguard but the living relics that had done the forging had been insistent, it had runes engraved into the blade to keep it sharp without a whetstone and to be very hard to break but nothing further. That had been probably the biggest surprise, with options to have it ignite whatever it touched, to wrap roots around a foe¡¯s ankle with the right gesture, to turn the air itself into a cutting weapon, to make the blade phase, glow or even fight for itself they had settled on just the basics. Or rather his swordteacher Saiko had, the former mercenary going into verbal battle against dragons, liches and simply retired legends to insist that Alec wasn¡¯t ready for that kind of responsibility and that given the people he was most likely to fight, paladins with their magic neutralizing nullsteel, it would be pointless as well. Saiko had, to universal shock, won the argument on enchantment though his argument for an estoc, longsword or some other variant of knightkiller had gone unheeded. The scabbard though had a sting in its tail, made of the supernaturally hard Mori-oak the forest surrounding Seruatis was famous, or perhaps infamous, for, Alec¡¯s recent lessons had included how to bring the sheathe into play as a second weapon, primarily defensive. Saiko knew there was no way in just a couple months of practice he¡¯d be able to get Alec to a standard where he¡¯d be able to stand toe-to-toe with trained knights, soldiers and, given the company he kept, potentially, assassins, but he hoped that the obscure style of fighting would be able to wrongfoot them enough to give him a chance. ¡°Staves.¡± They weren¡¯t technically his, belonging to his mentor Erebus, now suffering in durance vile, at least as far as Alec was aware, in truth the worst the necromancer had had to face was isolation and loneliness and those were practically friends to the centuries old monster. One was Erebus¡¯ travelling staff, a length of ebony, starting to get a bit on the thin side where the runes, so thick and small it was hard to believe they¡¯d been carved by hand, had been replaced over the years, capped with an obsidian skull (a perfect replica of its intended owner¡¯s) and with a springloaded blade in the other end to turn it from stave to spear at a moment¡¯s notice. It was a magician¡¯s equivalent of a multitool. The other staff however, for all the craftsmanship of its partner, was something special. A simple Mori-yew staff, unadorned and without a focus, though there was a nestling of tendril-like branches at one end that would eventually hold one. It practically thrummed with necromantic energies, so thick and strong that even Alec could feel it like a static charge in the air. Lady Yew, the dryad who had bestowed it, had been old, and not rise and fall of empires old, but the ¡®I remember when those mountains weren¡¯t there¡¯ old. In revenge and hate she had given it to Erebus to kill Lutan, the slayer of Von Mori, the great dryad of the forest itself, the heartwood of such an ancient dryad was a rare material indeed, it could only be given, never taken as such a dryad would sooner destroy their tree than let it be harvested by mortals. Von Mori, it had turned out, wasn¡¯t dead, merely captured, but by the time that information had emerged it had been far, far too late to take the staff back. It was with utmost care that Alec would tie both staffs to his travelling pack. Finally ready to go he¡¯d shrug the pack on, glancing over at Holly, ¡°You know you could carry something right?¡± The dryas shrugged, ¡°I¡¯m hoarding my strength, unless you somehow learned how to cast spells in the last half hour.¡± He was pretty sure Holly was bullshitting him, and if he¡¯d wanted to he could have opened the bond between them to check but they¡¯d both been working hard on boundaries since she¡¯d woken from her coma, partly to try and be kinder to one another after a rough start and partly to prevent a repeat of the events that had necessitated it. ¡°Fine. Then any chance of casting a spell to make this stuff easier to carry?¡± ¡°Afraid I don¡¯t know any.¡± The prickly dryad said smugly as they left their home of the last month, heading for the outskirts where their escort was awaiting. Well not technically their escort. Erebus was a lot more haggard than Alex remembered him, a month¡¯s worth of beard doing a bad job of hiding where a pale and thin face had become near translucent and sallow. The necromancer¡¯s hands were cuffed and his legs were manacled, not null, the standard method of mage restraint which could be overcome by sheer power, but runes of binding and dispelling, an order of magnitude stronger, and multiple orders more expensive. The Swordsman was there, shadowed by Saiko, ostensibly the two were there as guards rather than to say farewell to a friend and enemy-turned-cordial-acquaintance respectively. The paladin, Janiah Vorthame, clad in just her armour, each piece polished to a mirror finish, rather than her usual drab and discreet chainmail and robe ensemble, was present to ensure nothing untoward happened in the transfer from Seruatis to Paladin authority. The silver-haired and apparently teak-hewn veteran soldier, now permanent ambassador to Seruatis, looked like she was trying to chew a wasp-and-nettle sandwich, her own choice of escort for Erebus had been declined by her superiors and she¡¯d made no secret of the fact, especially after a few beers. It was an open secret she was the catspaw of someone high up in the paladin order, though, with how difficult correspondence between New Pax and Seruatis was, no one had actually managed to figure out who. Perhaps all those letters had been lost in the mail, or the fireplace, one or the other. Dus, the gorgon librarian and by all accounts one of the eldest of Seruatis¡¯ living relics, was there in her eyeless mask, and with how Saiko and Erebus carefully weren¡¯t looking at her neither were sure she wasn¡¯t going to attempt a prison break. Janiah had tried to ban her presence but The Swordsman hadn¡¯t backed it, and without some form of overwhelming magical firepower she wasn¡¯t liable to listen. ¡°Ah, you took your time child.¡± She chided as Alec trudged across the moist grass and mud that consumed the outskirts, the teenager looking decidedly ill this close to the barrier, if anything Holly looked even queasier. There was a lot of null in the waist high wall that surrounded Seruatis and the poor dryad was enduring what amounted to a light radiation bath. With Alec to draw energy from she¡¯d be fine in a few hours but right now the only reason she wasn¡¯t throwing up was that dryads didn¡¯t eat. ¡°Sorry, I was busy packing.¡± He said, looking down at his feet in embarrassment, cheeks turning crimson as Holly chimed in, ¡°For the third time today.¡± ¡°Well you¡¯re here now. We can finally get this sad little affair over with.¡± She declared, amusement dancing behind her voice. ¡°Not quite.¡± Noone had seen the three approach, perhaps they¡¯d teleported, perhaps they¡¯d been invisible, but they were there now and the centre of attention as, in their minds, should always have been the case. The reactions were varied, Holly, Saiko and Alec damn near jumped out of their skins, though only Saiko went for his blade, as did Janiah, though Saiko stopped himself from drawing it once he¡¯d realised it was a Seruatis resident, forsworn of violence. Dus¡¯ reaction was probably the strongest, the gorgon had her fingers on her sightless domino mask and had even removed the strap, practically vibrating with rage as Erebus moved to interpose himself between them, though for who¡¯s protection was heavily debatable. The Swordsman, the titular protector of Seruatis, merely sighed, ¡°Pheus, Nem, Jay.¡± He acknowledged each in turn with a quick nod of the head. ¡°I trust there is a reason for this melodrama besides boredom?¡± ¡°I have been having bad dreams lately.¡± Pheus informed him, voice soft yet terribly tired, as if the act of staying awake was a herculean effort. ¡°And Jay finds himself¡­ indecisive.¡± Shockingly Dus calmed, reattaching her mask as The Swordsman nodded at the trio to continue, Pheus clearly their spokesperson. Pheus, as Alec understood the matter, was a retired archmage specialising in the rare discipline of oneiromancy, the magic of dreams, though he¡¯d never met the man in person he was apparently the mage who had roused Holly and himself from the shared nightmare that had threatened to kill them. The other two he wasn¡¯t even passingly familiar with, though the family resemblance was striking. Something about that last thought nagged at him, though he wasn¡¯t sure why. ¡°We require the necromancer.¡± Pheus said, and it wasn¡¯t a request. The Swordsman glanced at Erebus who nodded his acquiescence, expression grave, then at Dus, who did the same. There was no love in the eyes the two directed at the trio, hate was in fact quite mild, but there was also respect there, they weren¡¯t the sort to hold vendettas lightly and they were the sort to settle them swiftly, that Pheus and his brothers still walked to be hated spoke volumes of their power and competence. Janiah, unfortunately, missed the interplay, or more likely regarded it as merely an obstacle between her and her duty as she roared, ¡°Absolutely not, this mage is a prisoner of the-¡° And stopped. Not shut up but stopped entirely, no breath, no pulse, just held in a moment of such perfect stillness that for a moment Alec feared that Dus had turned her to stone until he realised that her skin had not turned grey. Slowly Alec turned his gaze to Erebus, following his mentor¡¯s shocked gaze to the true culprit: Pheus. ¡°What have you done?¡± The Swordsman whispered, disbelief and a hint of fear behind his words. ¡°Nothing. If we agree I have done nothing. This is not a matter for children to interfere with.¡± He practically sneered his defiance, ¡°That includes you.¡± ¡°What if I decide to interfere?¡± Dus asked sweetly, moving to confront the arrogant archmage mere inches from his face, chin raised in defiance. ¡°Or am I a child too?¡± ¡°No. If you interfere¡­ then we¡¯ll throw down, here and now, just like you¡¯ve always wanted.¡± He stated calmly, not unmoved by her threat but not prepared to back down. ¡°Let¡¯s say I agree to let this pass¡­ why the necromancer? You said this isn¡¯t a matter for children.¡± ¡°The necromancer is not a child.¡± As always when he said it he managed to make ¡®necromancer¡¯ sound like a particularly venomous swear word. ¡°He¡¯s barely two hundred!¡± Dus protested. ¡°He has seen three faces of the enemy, that¡¯s two more than you. If the boy there had seen as much I¡¯d give him the same consideration.¡± ¡°I have a condition.¡± The gorgon compromised, ¡°I¡¯m there as an observer, to make sure the man that walks in is the man that walks out.¡± Pheus glanced at Nem and Jay, conferring without words, ¡°Agreed.¡± The Swordsman took a deep breath, gathering his calm, ¡°Let¡¯s say I agree you didn¡¯t just violate the one rule that makes this place function, what am I meant to do with her?¡± He indicated the lifeless paladin, still locked in place. ¡°Oh she¡¯s fine, just trapped in a moment of time, if we put everyone back where they were standing we can end the spell and she won¡¯t even notice. No harm no foul right?¡± ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m not happy about this.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to be.¡± The oneiromaster admitted, ¡°But tempus fugit, I come to you all bearing the gift of prophecy, at great cost I might add.¡± ¡°You could have led with that.¡± Seruatis¡¯ patron grumbled, not entirely soothed. ¡°What is the prophecy?¡± Pheus took a breath, closed his eyes, and began to speak in a voice that wasn¡¯t his. It wasn¡¯t male or female, but it was melodic and strangely haunting with harmonies dancing behind the cadence as if an entire choir were giving voice in support. ¡°The last of the first shall come to sun¡¯s aegis to weep her final tears. The mother of statues shall be reborn by the blood of the dreamer.¡± ¡°Yes! Oh sweet martyr yes!¡± Dus was practically jumping with joy just to be shushed from all sides as the prophecy continued. ¡°All doors shall shut and all foes forsworn as the new blade shatters. Then the chains shall tremble, the chains may break, for they were doomed in the chainbreaker¡¯s death. When the painting slew the painter and their legacy became liars duty Yet should the last chain fall then darkness shall rise Eternal enemy, annihilator, corruptor, the siblings of the first gods shall have their silence.¡± The chorus of voices faded and Pheus opened his eyes, looking thoroughly queasy as he looked around owlishly at the drawn faces surrounding him, ¡°I hate doing that.¡± ¡°Well that was ominous and obscure, as prophecies go a solid nine out of ten.¡± Erebus declared, trying, and failing, to lighten the mood. ¡°Not entirely obscure.¡± sang a still jubilant Dus, the gorgon quite literally dancing, shimmying her shoulders and waving her hands skywards in wildly exaggerated circles. ¡°Oh I¡¯m happy to say no rules were broken on this one. So these dreams¡­ are my hands around your throat or do I just rip it out with my teeth?¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Pheus rubbed tiredly at his eyes, ¡°Neither, I¡¯m going to take the necromancer with me now.¡± For a moment Erebus looked like he was going to argue just on principle but he stamped down the urge, walking surrounded by the three ¡®archmages¡¯, Dus keeping a polite distance, still flying so high on the prospect of future vengeance she was prepared to play nice. * Inside the small house the three archmages dropped their act, Jay¡¯ face splitting in two entirely separate half-visages, one caramel skinned, brown-eyed, full cheeked and smiling whilst the other was pale, sunken, sallow and scowling, the eye nothing but an empty pit. Nem¡¯s transformation wasn¡¯t half as dramatic, his expression twisting into an inhuman rictus of rage and hate, eyes literally burning with it as the three stopped pretending to be anything other than what they were, the last of the gods, their power waned, their dominion broken, but still even now something beyond mortal ken and mortal strength. Pheus was hardest to look at, not because he was particularly hideous, he wasn¡¯t, if anything he was the most beautiful of the three, ephemeral and almost diffused, dreams afterall were not a particularly solid concept. He was also the only one talking even now, away from prying eyes. It was a fact that put Erebus on edge, he¡¯d met them before, knew their nature and their personalities and none of them had ever been timid about expressing themselves. Dus and Nem¡¯s shouting matches had once been legendary in Seruatis. The lord of dreams directed a contemptuous glance at his brothers before speaking, ¡°The situation is¡­ well dire frankly doesn¡¯t cover it, apocalyptic comes pretty close.¡± ¡°I take it you¡¯ve got suspicions on what the prophecy means then.¡± Erebus observed softly, taking a seat opposite him whilst Dus remained standing. ¡°How much do you know about my kind, necromancer?¡± Pheus inquired, keeping his voice stern as he could manage, though that forcefulness was a tell in itself, usually when talking to any necromancer that same mellifluous voice would be flowing with unconcealed hate, rage and any other invective he could find room for and Erebus himself tended to get a second helping just for good measure. ¡°More than most, but I suspect not as much as you¡¯re about to tell me.¡± The necromancer hedged, ¡°You¡¯re gods, or at least claim to be. Ancient beings with dominion over aspects of reality.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ that¡¯s mostly propaganda.¡± Pheus admitted, the vaguely humanoid cloud managing an impressive shrug. ¡°The ancient secrets privy only to the few able to uncover them are propaganda?¡± Erebus managing to put a shocking amount of doubt into that question. ¡°Well yes, we were ruling the sapients of the world with an iron fist, do you really think we were just going to straight up reveal weaknesses?¡± ¡°Now that you say it out loud¡­ no. No I don¡¯t. So much for artifacts from a bygone era. So if you don¡¯t have absolute power of parts of the world, what can you do?¡± ¡°They can influence a single aspect of the world, influence but not control, abstract as you like, but each of them only gets one.¡± Dus chimed in from her spot leaned against a wall, earning her a sharp collective glare from the three gods. ¡°What? You three suck at explaining things. I probably just saved us ten minutes of our lives that despite being an eternal being I still would want back.¡± Pheus sighed, ¡°You know I actually thought your good mood would last at least a day. But she¡¯s right, influence not control. I can see any dream I choose, even through the Seruatis barrier, only a few highly trained and disciplined minds can keep me out, and I can alter the dream to my will. Nem sees the links between people, specifically their enemies, and can inhabit and embody the mind of them though he can¡¯t alter them. And Jay sees choices¡­ don¡¯t ask me how, that one¡¯s abstract even for us and frankly a curse given it has more or less blackjacked him into decision paralysis his entire life.¡± He paused to let all that sink in before ploughing on further, ¡°But none of that is actually important beyond providing you a frame of reference, the point is that we¡¯re fairly weak gods, our predecessors were a lot, lot stronger, and a lot less personable. And I don¡¯t mean that in the sense they were hard to get along with, I mean they were literally less like people and more like forces of nature that happened to have senses of self. We called them the titans, the fomor, the progenitors, a host of names.¡± ¡°Before them were the primordials, beings like the earth-mother, sky-father, night-queen and afterlife-king each with a thousand names and members of a thousand pantheons, a thousand people at once and just one. Now they physically were their aspect and were the second generation of divine being alongside the elder gods. Now for the bit we¡¯ve never told anyone. But¡­ given the prophecy¡­ now¡¯s the time.¡± ¡°When we talk about the earlier gods as being primeval forces that happened to be people, that isn¡¯t true of the first gods. They were just ideas that happened to be alive, a few became people down the line as the nature of what they were altered.¡± ¡°So they were the first.¡± Erebus said, ¡°You think the first line of the prophecy is about the first gods, specifically the last one, whichever one that is. But where the hell is sun¡¯s aegis?¡± ¡°Not just the first line, but we¡¯ll get to that. And sun¡¯s aegis can wait too, what matters is who the last of the first is.¡± Pheus explained, voice lowering in trepidation, that was when it hit Erebus what was so different about the three, why two were silent and the third was opening up with secrets that they¡¯d sat on for longer than recorded history. They were afraid. ¡°Most of the first gods happened at the very moment of creation, or so we were told, more accurately they were that first moment. But two¡­ two followed later, after the first stars ignited, the first planets had formed¡­ Life formed¡­ followed inevitably by¡­ the other one. The last of the first.¡± ¡°Death.¡± Erebus said, surprised as all three of them shushed him. ¡°Don¡¯t say it as a name.¡± Pheus hissed, ¡°She hears you. If you want to call her anything call her the lady with the scythe.¡± ¡°So De- the lady will come to this sun¡¯s aegis and cry her final tears¡­? Well I was right about it being ominous.¡± ¡°Well that moves us on to what makes this prophecy so very concerning on a personal level, to the best of our knowledge there¡¯s only two places that could qualify as sun¡¯s aegis. The grand temple of the Tonalteuctin and Seruatis itself. Going from other clues in the prophecy we¡¯re inclined to believe it¡¯s Seruatis.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Erebus demanded, leaning forwards in his seat for the rest of the exploration. ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you that.¡± The retired god told him sternly, ¡°As much as I dislike sharing family history that is what it ultimately is; history. Seruatis¡¯ secrets are still very much alive and well. The point is that she will come here and weep her final tears.¡± ¡°What could make the lady cry?¡± The necromancer asked, keeping it simple and direct as he accepted the explanation, and implied rebuke, without further comment. ¡°Many things, there¡¯s a dozen here who¡¯s passing would move her, but none that would be her final tears. People die, that is the nature of all that lives, for her to stop caring entirely would mean she no longer has things to care for.¡± ¡°You¡¯re talking-¡° ¡°Apocalypse. Ragnar?k. Armageddon. The End Times. The Closing of the Ledger. Call it what you will, I have prophesized the end of all things and the inciting event happens here.¡± ¡°Surely there¡¯s wriggle room? There always is with a prophecy.¡± Erebus too stunned to even try and conceal his aghast expression, jaw hanging loose as he pondered the implications, mind running through the chorused lines of things to come for some glimmer of hope. ¡°Precious little¡­ the only other way for the lady to never cry again would be if she were¡­ taken off the board.¡± Pheus managed to force out, choosing his words carefully, in the hope the thin pretence would avoid the awareness of the youngest primordial being. ¡°Which would prove paradoxical.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t any of the other first gods do anything?¡± ¡°She visits all things in time, only two remain to our knowledge and they¡­ are of little use. One¡¯s so devoted to non-interference they might as well not even be sapient and the other is frankly too fond of interfering.¡± ¡°Do these two have names?¡± Erebus asked, apparently determined to pull this particular tooth. ¡°Call them the old man with the hourglass and the one with green eyes.¡± The necromancer took a few moments to parse that, the hourglass was obviously Time but the one with green eyes could be a number of possible entities. ¡°Can¡¯t the green eyed one help?¡± He asked, playing a guess, ¡°They tend to be good at playing long odds.¡± Pheus gave him an approving nod, ¡°Yes but they¡¯re also the one who sets the odds, and they can get pretty tetchy if you try to cheat. Who¡¯s voice do you think read out the prophecy?¡± ¡°Then what can we do if we can¡¯t stop it?¡± Erebus demanded, trying to etch his defiance into each word as if he could speak with such conviction that the universe itself would have to take note, ¡°You don¡¯t talk like someone who¡¯s lost all hope, and I certainly don¡¯t believe that the universe will just roll over and die because a particularly old ghost said so.¡± ¡°We find other avenues of attack, the prophecy was more than just one line. Go through it, bit by bit, we¡¯ve got some ideas of what it means, hence why my brothers are staying quiet, the cowards.¡± ¡°Well the second about the mother of stone and the blood of the dreamer¡­ the only way I can read that is that Dus kills you.¡± Erebus stated, ¡°And yet you don¡¯t seem terribly concerned.¡± ¡°Oh that¡¯s certainly what it means, and going by the reborn bit she¡¯ll find it every bit as cleansing as she hopes.¡± Pheus gave Dus an amused glance, the glowing orbs in what passed for the cloud-person¡¯s head literally twinkling with mirth and the gorgon¡¯s smirk was wide enough it had to hurt, only then did he let it fade, literally, from his eyes, ¡°We were killed a long, long time ago necromancer, your kind broke us, we¡¯ll never rise again and we persist out of little more than habit. I won¡¯t miss this place, this life, if this is the end of us then I¡¯m fine with it, and if by some fluke we survive I am fine with that also.¡± ¡°The next line¡­ Jay and Nem get killed¡­¡± Erebus parsed, running it through his head. ¡°There¡¯s wiggle room, hence their silence, they still hope to survive this.¡± Pheus agreed, ¡°though none of us have much of an idea what the new blade is, best guess is some kind of weapon we aim at the one with the scythe will fail catastrophically, but that¡¯s pure guesswork. But the fourth line is what we find interesting¡­ want to take a crack at it?¡± ¡°Then the chains shall tremble, the chains may break, for they were doomed in the chainbreaker¡¯s death.¡± The mage repeated slowly, ¡°Well you¡¯ve got a may, not a shall, in there so I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s a weak point. No idea what the chain it¡¯s talking about is, just too broad to be useful, same with the chainbreaker.¡± ¡°The chainbreaker is you.¡± The god informed him, ¡°You¡¯re the only person to destroy three of the aetheric chains.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t be sure it¡¯s the aetheric chains, and surely someone¡¯s broken more? The Ascended Martyr for Veil¡¯s sake!¡± ¡°Your precious martyr only ever broke the one chain. An important one true, but just one. And it has to be the aetheric chains, the stakes are far too high for it to be anything else, it¡¯s not going to be some guy who¡¯s paid to stress test an apprentice blacksmith¡¯s shoddy work. You¡¯re the chainbreaker, and your death apparently dooms all of us. Which on a personal note is a huge disappointment given I¡¯d been looking forwards to it.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ oh that¡¯s precious.¡± Erebus noted, ¡°You¡¯re about to try and protect me aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Given your death will be the trigger for the end of days¡­ it would be churlish not to. And whilst I¡¯d like to think I¡¯ve elevated petty spite to an art form there are limits.¡± ¡°I¡¯d point out that this glorious edifice of a theory is built on a lot of assumptions. Far too many for you to be giving out power.¡± ¡°I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d jump at the chance for some real divine relics, you may not covet power like so many of your order but you¡¯re not one to refuse a useful tool either.¡± ¡°Power that can be given can also be taken.¡± Erebus pointed out evenly, ¡°The world has forgotten about divinity, better it remain that way than be brought back into the world.¡± ¡°Not even to save the world?¡± The god pressed, the cloudy form moving to a chair and apparently sitting down. ¡°I¡­¡± The words were slow and halting, ¡°I don¡¯t trust myself with it.¡± It was bizarre really that only here, surrounded by three of his worst enemies, and the silent and watchful Dus whom he respected more than he could put into words, he could express that particular insecurity. ¡°You don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m going to offer yet. What we¡¯re going to offer.¡± ¡°You really think this is it don¡¯t you?¡± The necromancer mused, as it was finally starting to settle in. About as accomplished as a battlemage could get, he was used to dealing with high stakes, even before his apprenticeship in the hells he¡¯d seen off a full fae incursion on his own; mostly through bluffing and brinksmanship but he¡¯d done it all the same, but the sheer enormity of it was taking a while to sink in. ¡°We do. We paid a heavy price to get that prophecy. Two thousand years of work in flames for it.¡± ¡°And this work was¡­?¡± ¡°Complicated, I¡¯m just trying to contextualise the importance of this prophecy.¡± Pheus told him. ¡°Technically it was twelve thousand years of work.¡± Jay chimed in, breaking his silence at last, ¡°Given we¡¯ve had to abandon the project altogether.¡± The god of choices paused before continuing at Erebus and Dus¡¯ questioning gazes, ¡°No point having a project that stretches towards eternity if there¡¯s a deadline on the entire planet.¡± Pheus opened his mouth to silence his brother then thought better of it, ¡°Yes. Ugh this whole thing is a mess, and frankly you¡¯re not qualified to do the heavy lifting on this but you¡¯re all we¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Erebus replied dryly, doing his best not to snark back at a comment like that, if only because he suspected that for once it wasn¡¯t snark. The grey mage was under no illusions as to his abilities, he hadn¡¯t been a prodigy for the first century of his life, above average yes, possibly in the top five percent of mages of his generation, both in power and versatility, and that had earned him trust enough to tackle major threats to the world (as part of a team), demonic incursions, rogue mage cults, a Wild Hunt in his youth. Then had come the failure at Maltz, four dead officially, two souls burned to nothing and a third damned to a fate so dark that oblivion was regarded as a kindness. The two survivors had reacted oppositely to each other, Karatas, young and untempered, the obvious weak link, had thrown himself into his fresh cause with an adamantine determination. Erebus, the veteran, the survivor of a hundred battles, slayer of daemon, elemental, mage and mortal man¡­ Erebus had shattered. Made mistakes that were costing him even now, namely abandoned a child who had lost their father. It had seemed so small at the time, so¡­ not unimportant, he¡¯d wanted to do it but it had been so small compared to revenge. In madness and in pain he¡¯d summoned a demon. That was to undersell it, he hadn¡¯t just summoned an archdemon, or a demon lord, but a demon king. An entity more powerful than any that had walked this world before. She had been terrifying but Erebus had planned exquisitely, the binding was perfect, he had her true name, not a single rune was a millimetre out of place, he¡¯d used materials inimical to her nature (shadow and madness) and in his devastated state his will was utterly implacable. It had taken her about three seconds to break all of it. The worst had happened, he¡¯d unleashed, unwittingly, a monster upon this world that even the Immortals as a group would struggle to put down, that the surviving gods, diminished as they were, were no longer an equal to. Her rampage would likely end the world as people knew it, the smoking craters of the nearest nations testament to his folly. There had been no rampage, no reforging the world in her image, her coup, such that it was, had been bloodless, for after destroying everything in place to hold her back she had calmly sat down and bargained with him, entranced at the temerity of the mortal before her. And so their contract had been made. When he¡¯d returned after an eternity, or six months from an outside perspective, for all that he was still made of mortal flesh his power and knowledge were beyond such a shell. He¡¯d extracted his vengeance and laid low a demon lord for good measure, the most powerful mortal mage on the planet. And Pheus knew all of that and was telling him he was too weak for the task to come, because that had been the horrible realisation, that being the most powerful mortal mage was little different from saying the most powerful cockroach. All he¡¯d achieved by becoming more powerful was trade his old foes in for new ones. He could probably kill Pheus if he tried, it would be a project of years and he certainly wouldn¡¯t do it alone, allies were in that respect merely another expression of power, but it was something achievable to the point that before this morning¡¯s prophecy, and had the god ever made the mistake of leaving Seruatis, he¡¯d have added it to his busy schedule. ¡°So tell me what I¡¯m facing.¡± He demanded. ¡°A bard.¡± Nem told him flatly, ¡°I am sorry.¡± ¡°Shit.¡± The word was the sharply barked expletive of a condemned man. There were few magics he hadn¡¯t delved into in his apprenticeship in the hells, but bardic magic was one of them, the magic of narrative, able to manipulate reality in ways that often resembled advanced ¨C and highly illegal ¨C temporal magic as events rewrote themselves to seek out a desired result. His master had known it, he was sure, but if there had been even a whiff of narrative upon him on his return he¡¯d have found every force in the world turned against him, a united front from paladin and mage, lich and lycan, undead and unicorn, dragon and draugr, god and goblin, all turned upon a single man. That was how dangerous bardic magic was. There were few magics banned, the mages of the world believing in carefully controlling the more dire branches of magic, but there were a few. Those with the power to affect causality such as temporal and narrative magics, those that could cause wounds in the world itself such as annihilation, and a few other even more esoteric arts. Of all of them narrative magic was the one Erebus least wanted to face, he¡¯d been taught how to fight it, at least as much as a person could fight the world actively choosing to attack them at every turn, but that knowledge was cold comfort in the face of such a foe. ¡°You¡¯re certain?¡± Erebus asked, expecting the god of vengeance to look affronted at the implication. He wasn¡¯t, even Nem himself would probably have asked that question, because some things even gods feared. ¡°I embodied Lutan myself, he may have had the memory removed but he can¡¯t hide it from me.¡± ¡°Can you tell who the bard is?¡± The necromancer asked, sounding, if not quite bloodthirsty, then enthused to cut the problem off at the source. ¡°If I knew that we wouldn¡¯t even be having this conversation.¡± Nem chuckled darkly, ¡°And I should know. Something¡¯s obscuring my vision, that or even Lutan does not and never has known his pawn¡¯s identity.¡± ¡°Not impossible.¡± Erebus mused, ¡°But he must have a method of contact?¡± ¡°A cutout man, now cut out.¡± Nem told him with a tight-lipped smile, ¡°First thing I thought of.¡± ¡°It explains a lot. Like how he found me¡­ the sheer serendipity of things, that bloody dagger for example, Alec¡¯s survival ¨C for all his own talent. Everyone knows the mentor dies halfway through the story.¡± Erebus mused, unconsciously stroking the scar beneath his robe where the aforementioned dagger had almost killed him and even now left him a shadow of his former self. ¡°You got very, very lucky.¡± Janus told him, ¡°Still if that is Lutan¡¯s game then perhaps you should leave the boy behind, for both your sakes.¡± Erebus gave that suggestion his full consideration, shaking his head as he reached his conclusion, ¡°Lutan doesn¡¯t like to repeat a trick, he¡¯ll have something fresh set up as a contingency for my survival.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see why he would change it when there¡¯s no reasonable way for you to even find out he has a bard.¡± ¡°It¡¯s his way, and besides Janiah will have reported it either way.¡± The necromancer said simply. ¡°I¡¯ll just have to keep my wits about me. Anything else?¡± ¡°One last gift before you go.¡± Pheus said, ¡°The rest of the prophecy can wait, no point piling more stakes onto you when you won¡¯t be alive for it.¡± ¡°Very kind of you.¡± Erebus replied dryly, not missing a beat. ¡°I thought so too. Now¡­¡± He gave one wrist a theatrical flourish and a glass jar appeared in his hand, a small mote of light floating in the centre, though Erebus couldn¡¯t have put a name to the colour. It was the colour of life, of joy, of beauty and of truth. It was the very light of creation itself and the mere sight of it provoked a slightly awed silence from the five most jaded people in the entire jaded town. ¡°Is that¡­?¡± The mage breathed, torn between horror and entrancement. ¡°A divine spark? Yes.¡± Pheus finished for him, ¡°It was nearly mature too, just another three thousand years and it would have been self-sustaining. Alas, but needs must. I bequeath it to you to do with as you will.¡± Dus gasped as Erebus¡¯ eyebrows disappeared up into his hairline. ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡± The gorgon exclaimed. ¡°Is there anyone you¡¯d trust with it more?¡± Pheus asked with what sounded like genuine curiosity. ¡°Well no, but there¡¯s no one I¡¯d trust with it at all.¡± She stated, the heat of her glare strong enough that the god could feel it even through the sightless domino mask. ¡°I¡¯d second that.¡± Erebus whispered, ¡°I don¡¯t want it. It¡¯s just¡­ it¡¯s too much power, I don¡¯t trust myself with it.¡± ¡°Cope.¡± The god told him heartlessly, ¡°You aren¡¯t the only one who¡¯s making sacrifices here.¡± ¡°So what can it do?¡± He asked the trio, half-expecting an evasion. ¡°Anything but not everything.¡± Janus began, Nem taking over to add, ¡°It¡¯s not stable but consider it a single spell, anything you can think off, just infuse it with your desire.¡± ¡°Or you could try to absorb it.¡± Pheus added, ¡°More than likely you¡¯ll explode, which would be good for the comedy value, but there¡¯s a small chance you could contain it and you¡¯ve power enough to feed it that you might even be a viable host to nurture it.¡± ¡°Because that¡¯s going to happen.¡± Erebus growled, dismissing that idea as fast as he could, half-tempted to forget he¡¯d even heard it. ¡°So any spell I can imagine?¡± ¡°Nearly any spell, whilst I would describe its potential as world-breaking it doesn¡¯t go as far as making that literal.¡± Pheus joked, trying to, rather weakly, force some levity into the situation. ¡°Then I desire to be healed.¡± The necromancer said, the three gods practically leaping towards him, too late to stop the desire transferring into the delicate little spark which flickered in its strain to fulfil that simple request. It was probably the most subtle spell he¡¯d ever experienced, he felt nothing, no change, no sensation, but as he prodded at his wounded heart with his more esoteric senses he found it whole and unscarred from the dagger that had so nearly claimed his life. The three gods all but snatched the jar from him, fussing over the flickering spark as if it were a newborn infant until they were sure it was stable. ¡°That was reckless.¡± Pheus understated, the cloudy form swirling with crimson rage that he was struggling to suppress. ¡°I¡¯d argue it was essential, if my life is so valuable then my health is my most valued resource.¡± Erebus said, allowing himself a few moments of relaxation, simply enjoying the ease of an existence where he wasn¡¯t having to quietly maintain a delicate healing spell. Sheer bliss, but alas his life had little room for self-indulgence. ¡°You could have destabilised the spark.¡± He hissed back, the jar clutched protectively inside his chest, half-obscured by the misty flesh. ¡°I could have.¡± The mage agreed cheerily before he let the cold inside him consume his face, ¡°But I didn¡¯t. Now, you¡¯ve made your desires clear, you¡¯ve made the importance of my survival clear, it¡¯s time I made something clear. I¡¯m not going to change, I¡¯m not going to live my life in fear, forever running, constantly reacting to some new threat.¡± Erebus allowed that to sink in, only continuing when Nem opened his mouth to object, simply speaking over the god of vengeance, ¡°No matter how hard you try, I will die eventually, it doesn¡¯t matter how far down the road you kick this ball, you¡¯re going to catch up with it eventually. So here¡¯s what I want from you, a list of locations, every weakness in the world, every buried horror, forgotten artifact of doom, every structural aetheric chain, and the names of every devil and imperator of the second generation you can remember.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 2 - A Dubious Rescue It would have been nearly an hour when Erebus returned with the three archmages, though Dus had declined to join them, refusing to elaborate on her reasoning. The situation was much as they¡¯d left it, Alec and Holly were resting on the ground, crosslegged and leaned against each other, that had been one lesson the two had learned in their misadventures, to rest when possible because you never knew when there would be an emergency. The Swordsman was watching over the two, expression torn between amusement and frustration, occasionally glancing at the still rictus form of Janiah, which had managed to collect a couple of starlings, the birds taking to flight at the quartet¡¯s approach. ¡°I should tell you all to leave and never return.¡± He declared darkly, not even trying to hide his anger, ¡°This cannot work when you flout the rules so flagrantly.¡± Of all people it was Erebus who retorted, ¡°When a rule is no longer fit for purpose it should be ignored. This place is meant to be a place of safety, noone¡¯s safe in an apocalypse.¡± ¡°You turned your coat fast.¡± The tattooed blademaster snapped back. ¡°My coat¡¯s the same it¡¯s always been. But sometimes a serpent will grasp at a drowning man.¡± The mage replied smoothly as he gave the three archmages the side-eye. That at least got a chuckle from all parties as Erebus crossed to the two sleeping youths and shook them gently awake, ¡°You know, rest is one thing, but a sleep that deep really isn¡¯t good on the road, anything could happen.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t help it.¡± Holly grumbled defensively, ¡°Once he gets drowsy, I get drowsy, then he gets drowsier because I¡¯m drowsy and then we¡¯re asleep.¡± Alec nodded his head along to the dryad¡¯s explanation the gesture somewhat lost as he stretched his limbs. ¡°What are we doing about Janiah?¡± It was Pheus that answered, the lord of dreams looking human again as he wandered over, ¡°Simple enough. From her perspective no time has passed so we just stand where we were when time was stopped for her and don¡¯t mention anything.¡± The teenager couldn¡¯t keep the doubt off his face, ¡°The sun has moved and Dus isn¡¯t here, she¡¯s bound to notice.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The archmage agreed, thin lips twitching with a positively delighted smirk, ¡°And she won¡¯t be able to prove a thing.¡± ¡°Seems a little cruel¡­¡± Alec mused, though Holly seemed to share Pheus¡¯ amusement, the young dryad having to hold back giggles at the thought. The paladin had not endeared herself to either of them in truth, referring to them as the ¡®victims of necromantic experimentation¡¯ which while technically true certainly wasn¡¯t how they thought of themselves. ¡°If she¡¯s going to pull the tail of a tiger then she doesn¡¯t get to complain when she gets clawed.¡± Pheus replied blithely, ¡°In the old days we wouldn¡¯t have been half as considerate at this.¡± ¡°In the old days we¡¯d have been trying to kill each other.¡± Erebus pointed out, ¡°Not all nostalgia is good. Now places everyone¡­¡± Less than a minute later, after a few minor adjustments where Alec and Holly had accidentally swapped places and Erebus needed to be re-manacled, Janiah would burst back to motion, still mid-bellow, ¡°-Holy Paladin Order and I will not surrender him to anyone except the Guard-Commander of New Pax. Certainly not some jumped up fossils who insist on malingering in this forsaken hole.¡± Pheus smiled, the expression warm and heartfelt, ¡°My apologies Lady Vorthame, you are of course correct, my brothers and I will resume our malingering and trouble you no more.¡± And with that the three were simply gone as if they¡¯d never been there, and it was certainly possible they hadn¡¯t. Janiah, for her part, stared at the empty space, aware that something wasn¡¯t quite right but unable to put her finger upon it as her gaze traversed the carefully blank faces arrayed before her, even if Alec and Holly¡¯s lips were twitching. Still as Pheus had said, she couldn¡¯t prove anything no matter what she suspected. For a few seconds impotent rage danced in her eyes, clear for any with the eyes to see it, before it was pushed out of sight, ¡°If there are no further interruptions, we can get underway, the guards should be meeting us outside the barrier.¡± She wasn¡¯t happy about that either, but The Swordsman had been quite firm that as they weren¡¯t seeking sanctuary they would be regarded as a hostile presence and she¡¯d had little choice but to acquiesce with poor grace. Erebus walked in front of her, manacled hands in front of him, Janiah watching him suspiciously the entire way and not raising a hand to help him over the waist high wall. Alec frowned at that, Holly and himself helping the necromancer over with a minimum of fuss, as awkward as it was manhandling his own mentor. He wasn¡¯t entirely angry with Janiah about it, proximity to the wall was a strain at the best of times, making it hard to do anything, last time it had actually been sheer apathy to his own apathy that had gotten him through it. This time he¡¯d been slowly building up his exposure to it, along with Holly who was still having to bite back small sounds of pain as she crossed it, more or less fleeing for the treeline once she had. Glancing at Janiah as he vaulted over it, he could see a pair of fairly vacant eyes staring back at him, ¡°You need to cross the wall.¡± He told her, hoping the instruction would spur her to action, it certainly had when he¡¯d last faced this crucible. Fortunately it did, not that Erebus was making a run for it, and not that Alec would have helped Janiah if he were, instead the necromancer had found himself surrounded by two robed and hooded figures, staves held at the ready with spells visibly crackling at the tip. By this point Alec had had enough of a grounding in magical heraldry to read the basics, one in the vivid and dancing scarlet of a senior pyromancer and the other in the arsenic green of an alchemist. ¡°At least you¡¯re on time.¡± Janiah declared, striding forwards to meet them as her fugue lifted, crow-footed eyes sharpening once more. ¡°But I thought there were supposed to be more of you¡­?¡± ¡°A month is short notice to travel this deep into the forest.¡± The crimson robed one said, voice bespelled to be inflectionless and genderless and the shadows of their hood unnaturally deep so not a single detail could be made out of their face, ditto their partner. ¡°Especially given its recent change in attitude.¡± ¡°Do you believe you can escort the prisoner safely with just the two of you?¡± She asked them, all business now. ¡°It won¡¯t be a problem, we¡¯ve arranged a site-to-site teleport to outside New Pax where we will be supplemented with sufficient reinforcements to ensure his detention.¡± The alchemist assured her in that same obnoxiously neutral voice, taking out a vaguely purple glowing crystal, despite the colouring Holly suspected it was something far rarer than mere amethyst, sharing that insight across the bond. ¡°I was not informed of this.¡± Janiah replied, eyes narrowing suspicion. ¡°It became necessary when we realised we would be undermanned. You decided the timeline, not us.¡± The pyromancer pointed out, not relaxing their grip or aim at Erebus for even a moment. ¡°We were not informed of the children either.¡± ¡°My apprentices.¡± The condemned explained, or rather lied, ¡°They¡¯re key witnesses for my defence.¡± ¡°Irregular. We will consult.¡± From the alchemist, the way the duo alternated who spoke strangely eerie. Both raised a hand to their ear, clearly listening to something before nodding and chorusing as one, ¡°Very well. We will abide.¡± Frankly it made Alec¡¯s skin crawl, and he could feel a similar repulsion coming across the bond from Holly. Even Janiah looked a touch out of sorts, ¡°Well?¡± She demanded, wanting this done with. ¡°Command says it¡¯s okay.¡± The pyromancer announced, and even the voicechanging spell couldn¡¯t entirely conceal their displeasure, a hint of masculine growl managing to get through. ¡°The prisoner and witnesses will join hands.¡± Green robe ordered as the purple glow from the crystal began to intensify, in moments getting hard to look at. ¡°Wait a moment.¡± Janiah ordered, ¡°I still have to-¡° They never found out what exactly Janiah had to do, the two mages clasping crushing grips on Alec and Holly¡¯s shoulders and with a flash of ethereal plum light they were gone. * It was bitterly cold. That was the first thing Holly noticed as they arrived, the biting chill was like nothing she¡¯d ever felt before as the wind cut through her dress as if it were gossamer. The second thing was the sheer lack of plantlife to speak of, even without her tree she was still at heart a dryad, and still had the suite of supernatural senses that involved but there really was nothing, not even lichen or moss. Just stark white ice as far as the eye could see as snow battered against the bubble of calm a mage in a steely blue robe (the colour unfamiliar from Holly and Alec¡¯s lessons) was maintaining for them as they all reoriented themselves. Alec for his part looked fairly queasy and that was as much as Holly got before she narrowed their link as far as it would go, receiving a look of betrayal from the teenager as the nausea hit him doubly hard without the apparent anchor of Holly to cling to. Fortunately it never went further than looking ill. The two mages and their prisoner took the teleport without even so much as a wobble, the two grabbing Erebus and throwing him to the ground as one drew a sword and advanced upon him as the necromancer scrambled back across the ice. ¡°Lord Protector Lutan sends his regards.¡± Holly tried to reach for something, anything, to stop it as Alec rushed forwards, only to lose his footing on the smooth ice and crash down heavily, the whumph of air leaving his lungs barely audible over the howling wind. It was all happening so fast and there was nothing, nothing that Holly could do, no plants to manipulate. Desperately she drew on Alec¡¯s mana, breaking the bond as wide open as she could, not even wincing as she felt the teen¡¯s pain, nausea and winded state like it was her own. For the first time in her life Holly cast a spell. It was barely stable, little more than a mass of mana and crude intent that the two assassins stop, even Holly didn¡¯t know how it would express itself. A wave of force rippled through the air, fraying and expanding as it did so but still carrying strength enough to throw the blade-wielder from their feet, which made it all the more tragic that the pyromancer stopped it with a simple barrier of bright blue fire before it could reach them, the flames setting light the magic itself, reducing it to little more than an insubstantial ash floating on the wind. It was hopeless, Alec had no more mana to give and in his manacled state Erebus couldn¡¯t even fight back as the assassin drew back the blade, poised to stab down at the defenceless target. The dryad closed her eyes, flinching at the harsh crack of the blade plunging into the ice. Opening her eyes a few moments later she was surprised to find the assassin stood over Erebus but with the blade stabbed firmly into the ground next to him. ¡°Had you going didn¡¯t I?¡± inquired a clearly feminine voice while offering him a hand up. ¡°Yeah you did.¡± The necromancer growled, accepting the hand up, ¡°Crypt¡¯s sake Natalya, what if I¡¯d killed you?¡± ¡°You¡¯re in mana-restraints, do your worst.¡± Natalya scoffed, dispelling the illusion on her robe, the toxic green fading to an inky black, the very twin of Erebus¡¯ own robe. Still for all her mockery she did put up a spellshield. Now Holly wasn¡¯t an expert on spellshields but she had seen a few while living in Seruatis, half-spheres of shimmering force, walls of glowing green entropy, rock and earth rising to form a golem-like shell of armour. Von Mori herself had preferred a flurry of petals that disrupted magical energies not born of the forest, and if that sounded weak for a borderline primordial being then that was just because the person hadn¡¯t ever been in the centre of a hurricane of foxgloves petals and pollen. As shields went this one was solid. A complex network of vaguely green glowing runes suspended in a force barrier that wrapped entirely around the mage in a bubble. Erebus raised an eyebrow at it, ¡°I thought you used a skintight shield?¡± He rapped on it with his knuckles, flashes of incandescent white sparks rising from the contact and the knuckles visibly reddened from even that brief touch. ¡°Times change.¡± She half-shrugged, expression still unreadable beneath the hood whilst Holly and Alec watched, neither of them entirely caught up on events to the point that Alec hadn¡¯t even picked himself up off the ice yet. ¡°Now I said do your worst.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t. It¡¯s of the fire and forget variety and I¡¯m saving it for a rainy day.¡± Erebus replied, offering his wrists, ¡°Any chance of taking these off? Or is this not actually a rescue?¡± His fellow necromancer would, with apparent reluctance, unlock the manacles, ¡°A rainier day than being stabbed through the gut and bleeding out on the ice?¡± ¡°Much rainier.¡± Erebus assured her, ¡°Now who¡¯s with you?¡± ¡°Less than you¡¯d hope, it¡¯s been a bloodbath since you got detained.¡± She admits, ¡°It¡¯s bad Ere¡­ I know they got Fredrick, Morlan, Monica, Dreadful Ed and someone just about levelled Triple A. And that¡¯s just the ones I¡¯m sure of. Frankly some of it¡¯s weird, the Umbral Temple took a run at Karatas and Amara nearly got made extra crispy by some bizarre joint operation between the Umbral and Vulcanus.¡± Other than a particularly tight-lipped frown Erebus took that in stride as he gave the waiting pyromancer a long look, as if trying to pierce the magical darkness beneath the hood by simple staring power alone, ¡°That you Amara?¡± ¡°In the flesh, just about.¡± The pyromancer replied, ¡°And Sato¡¯s powering the barrier until we¡¯re ready to teleport to a secondary location, though that¡¯s going to take a while given someone decided to bring along two extra people.¡± ¡°Things got complicated.¡± Erebus explained whilst managing not to include any explanation, ¡°Just about? Vulcanus actually took a run at you?¡± ¡°Things got complicated.¡± She echoed, before pulling Erebus into a rib-creaking hug, ¡°It¡¯s damn good to see you kid.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that I¡¯m ungrateful for the rescue but if your own people are hunting you shouldn¡¯t you be in hiding?¡± He asked with clear concern as he tried to extricate himself from the hug. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°If someone tries to assassinate me in front of you, what¡¯re you going to do kid?¡± Amara asked with a carefree laugh, not letting him go just yet as she began rubbing a knuckle on the top of his head. ¡°Kill them, obviously.¡± Whilst the mages were busy catching up, Holly had found herself with her own problem to deal with, Alec still hadn¡¯t gotten to his feet, the teenager just about having managed to get himself to a seated position as he puffed and panted as if he¡¯d just finished a marathon, his skin adopting an unhealthy pallor. She tried to send a little healing into him, not a true spell, just the instinctive magic she usually used, but it didn¡¯t help, it did worse than not help, Alec starting to shiver and shake. ¡°Stop you fool of a girl. Take much more and you¡¯ll kill him.¡± Natalya hissed, interposing herself between Holly and Alec, for all the good it would do if she ignored her advice. Fortunately Holly did listen, managing a rather weak, ¡°What? No, I was healing him!¡± ¡°With his own mana. You¡¯re trying to fill a bucket of water by taking water out of the bucket then dropping it back in, not only are you not getting any new water but you¡¯re losing some in the transfer.¡± ¡°I¡¯m f-fine.¡± Alec complained, teeth chattering, ¡°J-just need a m-minute.¡± ¡°You¡¯re mana starved, idiot.¡± Natalya snapped at him, ¡°Just take breaths and siphon from the air, it¡¯s a bit cold-aligned for my tastes but it¡¯ll have you feeling better.¡± ¡°How d-do I do that?¡± He gasped, trying and feeling to get to his feet and settling for hugging his knees instead. ¡°You¡¯re kidding me, what has he even been teaching you?¡± The necromancer groaned, a dull slap of hand meeting forehead before she rubbed at her eyes. ¡°Meditations mostly¡­¡± He caught a brief look at her expression, ¡°it was important at the time.¡± ¡°Of course it was.¡± She sighed, ¡°Well just reach out with your mana senses and-?¡± ¡°My what?¡± The facepalm was a lot louder this time. ¡°Just give me your hand, you aren¡¯t going to like this.¡± She told him, grabbing for the appendage in question, still she¡¯d given him fair warning, in her mind at least as she pumped some of her own magicka into him. Ideally she¡¯d have given him ambient mana, the magic that suffused all things rather than magicka, her own supply. Alec¡¯s screaming indicated why, high-pitched, shrill and desperate, it brought the conversation between Erebus and Amara to a halt and even the stalwart and taciturn Sato, still maintaining their little bubble of relative calm from the blizzard, faltered for a moment. ¡°What did you do?!¡± Erebus bellowed, shoes scraping and scrabbling on the ice as he crossed over to Alec with all the speed he could manage, the young man still screaming as Natalya maintained her grip. When later asked to describe it Alec would describe it as like fire in his veins, and he¡¯d be lying through his teeth as he did so, it was cold, terribly cold, and felt more like it was oozing than racing, this terrible chill, much worse than the physical cold of the ice around them, slowly passing up his arm and he feared that if it reached his heart that it would stop. At the same time his other senses received their own assault, a tinny ringing in his ears, the taste of something sickly sweet in his mouth and suddenly the breeze on his skin felt like a knife. It had only taken seconds for Erebus to wrench the two apart, trying not to shake the teen as he checked he was okay, the necromancer¡¯s eyes all but blazing as he glanced sideways at Natalya, ¡°Well? Care to explain?¡± ¡°The dryad took too much from him, I was just giving him a leetle boost, barely a smidge.¡± She defended herself, entirely unconcerned at her colleague¡¯s change in demeanour. ¡°With magicka?!¡± ¡°Well if you¡¯d bothered to give him even the most basic training I wouldn¡¯t have had to.¡± She growled, ¡°He can¡¯t even sense mana yet!¡± ¡°Things were complicated, I was busy.¡± He snaps back, summoning a light to his fingertip as he checked Alec¡¯s pupil response only for the teen to jerk his head away. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I.. I do feel better actually.¡± Alec admitted, as begrudging as Erebus had ever heard him. The necromancer let him go, letting the spell go out to rub at his own eyes, ¡°Fine, fine, how long until we can teleport again?¡± ¡°Half an hour unless you¡¯re prepared to power it personally.¡± Amara replied before Natalya could put in her own waspish retort. ¡°Can¡¯t. Need to marshal my strength for now.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°Where¡¯s the secondary jump site?¡± ¡°That¡¯s need to know for now,¡± The pyromancer told him, ¡°So what¡¯s with the kids? The real story, not the tripe you tried to sell us before we rescued us.¡± ¡°Alec¡¯s from Respite, the last survivor.¡± He explained to her, ¡°Lutan put the entire town to the sword for sheltering me.¡± ¡°The Four forfend.¡± Amara swore, ¡°I knew the kid had it out for you but butchering his own folks, that¡¯s twisted.¡± ¡°And na?ve of you.¡± Natalya interjected, ¡°I thought I¡¯d taught you better than that.¡± ¡°I took precautions.¡± Erebus protested, ¡°I still don¡¯t know how Lutan found me there. And on the cusp of finally tracking down Ente¡¯s Tear. Just bad luck I guess.¡± It wasn¡¯t exactly a lie, he was fairly sure now that Lutan¡¯s finding him had been very much a happy accident, but he certainly wasn¡¯t in a rush to reveal that the paladin had the means to tilt serendipity in his favour. He trusted his former mentors, they wouldn¡¯t ditch him just because of danger, but they were of the type to second-guess themselves into circles if they learned there was a bard plucking gently at the strings of fate. Scratch that, he was also of that mould but he also knew he couldn¡¯t afford to be, inaction would be every bit as fatal as a mistake. ¡°Doubtful, you will have made a mistake somewhere.¡± Natalya told him. ¡°I have it on fairly good authority that I didn¡¯t.¡± He retorted, ¡°Seruatis has access to some superlatively skilled information gatherers, they agree I took all reasonable, and most unreasonable, precautions.¡± His fellow necromancer didn¡¯t look satisfied but at least let the matter lie, ¡°So what was your plan, present the kid before a court as evidence?¡± ¡°Hardly, I want them both to live. Besides he slept through the slaughter. Or more likely was knocked unconscious as his home collapsed around him. Holly¡¯s testimony would be far more damning.¡± ¡°Oh don¡¯t get me started on her-¡± Natalya growled. ¡°Perhaps we should shelve this for a time when we¡¯re all in a more receptive mood.¡± Amara suggested, quiet and calm in the face of growing passions. ¡°There¡¯s been a lot of rumours flying about the last couple months. Some jokers are even claiming you killed Von Mori.¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t him! That was Lutan!¡± Holly spoke up, outrage overcoming the intimidating confidence the two mages had projected. ¡°Much is explained.¡± The pyromancer noted, because who would dare vouchsafe a Von Mori dryad on their matriarch¡¯s fate. Erebus as it happened. ¡°She¡¯s not actually dead.¡± He said, not having even considered that Holly hadn¡¯t been told the truth. He didn¡¯t think it had been done out of cruelty, secrets came too easily to Seruatis, and with himself in irons the only other people she¡¯d have been in contact who¡¯d even known that secret were The Eternal Swordsman himself and Saiko. Seeing the inquiring looks from his colleagues, and the shocked relief tinged with doubt from Holly, he continued; ¡°Lutan had a soul prison crafted, don¡¯t know from who, around the size of a fist, looked like emerald framed in what I¡¯d guess was a mithril-platinum alloy, a former associate of his claimed it was a four-dimensional runic enchantment with a refined null matrix.¡± ¡°That complicates things a lot, someone¡¯s been very naughty indeed.¡± Natalya stated, ¡°Still that sort of craftsmanship and those sorts of materials, should be fairly easy to track down.¡± ¡°The artificer could be unwitting, soul prisons might by restricted but they¡¯re not inherently illicit.¡± Amara opined. ¡°Oh making this one was.¡± The elder necromancer replied with absolute certainty, a chilling rage open on her face as it contorted into a snarl, ¡°You can¡¯t make a soul prison of any real strength without designating a species at minimum. Noone even makes them for dryads, it¡¯s not worth the trouble when you can just go over their heads and pact with the dryad of the forest if they¡¯re difficult, and if you¡¯ve nefarious intent that same great dryad will step in.¡± ¡°Trust a necromancer on this,¡± Erebus backed up his irksome coworker, ¡°Soul prisons are finicky at the best of times. This will have a paper trail a mile long if you know where to look, you can hide the final item from the books but this will have required prototypes, blanks, that¡¯s a lot of very expensive materials to keep off the paperwork. Not to mention trial runs, I¡¯d bet years of my life that if you go through the unresolved incident reports there¡¯s a lot of missing dryads all over Contenmere. Whoever made this knew what they were making and what it was for.¡± ¡°I hate this.¡± Amara admitted, ¡°I had to kill people I¡¯ve known for decades, close friends have tried to murder me in cold blood. It¡¯s¡­ I don¡¯t even have the words for what this is.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got one word.¡± Natalya said, flashing a gratuitous amount of teeth given she wasn¡¯t the vampire in this conversation, ¡°Conspiracy.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°Yes. I understand someone taking a run at you, I even understand someone making a play for Amara to get to me, but it being her own people makes no damn sense, and the Umbral Temple does not throw away people. I¡­ I just- It makes no sense to me. Hitting Dreadful Ed, he¡¯d been retired for decades, if they¡¯d just waited a few years time would have done their job for them, and Triple A?! Everyone gets hurt by that, paladin, mage¡­ even the hells did good business with them.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying there¡¯s something more at play than a little opportunism.¡± Natalya observes coolly, ¡°Any ideas as to who¡¯s?¡± ¡°You¡¯re assuming just one hand,¡± Amara pointed out, ¡°With such different targets it could be multiple factions.¡± Erebus and Natalya exchanged a glance, the latter deciding to bite her tongue and let Erebus handle it. ¡°That¡¯s incredibly unlikely, one large conspiracy is hard enough to hide, two going unnoticed beggars belief, more than that¡­ well I¡¯m sure I could calculate the odds but I¡¯d have to express it in exponents.¡± The pyromancer looked more than a little embarrassed, though it was harder to tell on a vampire than most people, given the inability of their cheeks to flush with heat still there were few other ways to interpret the near forensic examination Amara appeared to be making of her shoes. Both necromancers let it pass without comment, the vampire was a master of fire par excellence but for all her centuries of life she¡¯d been out of fieldwork longer than the pair had been alive, living in the Academy for nearly all of that long life, working on her mastery of fire had blunted her instincts and distanced her from the changing world around her. The current state of shadowplay simply wasn¡¯t something she knew anymore, for all her duelling prowess it was fully possible Amara was the weak link on the team even over Alec who at least knew he knew nothing on such matters. Still Erebus wasn¡¯t in the habit of humiliating close friends so he decided to throw her a bone, ¡°Still two with shared interests would perhaps explain the Umbral¡¯s involvement in the attack on you.¡± There was a moment of shared silence as the three digested the information they¡¯d shared, Alec and Holly watching on, a little too intimidated to speak, there was just something in the way the three master mages held themselves, like predators on the prowl, it was something they¡¯d never seen in the affable necromancer before and neither was sure they liked it, especially when it was abundantly clear the others seemed to regard them as an inconvenience. Still no silence could last forever and it was Natalya who finally put voice to the question they¡¯d all been dancing around. ¡°So what are we actually going to do?¡± She asked, a hopeful note creeping in as she addressed Erebus, letting him mull it over before answering. In truth Erebus¡¯ thoughtful expression was not because of the question he¡¯d been asked but the tone itself. It was weird having his mentors now looking to him for guidance, on an intellectual level he¡¯d known for some time he¡¯d surpassed them but still it didn¡¯t feel right and only got more nauseating given he was about to betray the faith they were placing in his judgement. ¡°We go on the attack. I was given some leads in Seruatis, locations the archmages there believed would be useful.¡± He said, handing them both their death sentences. It was¡­ practical. Heartless but practical. The end of the world was apparently on its way, and Erebus, for all his bluster in the face of Pheus, Nem and Jay, was scared. It was an unfamiliar thing, half-forgotten and malformed from disuse, but fear all the same. If it was just fear he could probably have pushed it away, not made the terrible choice he knew he was making, but far, far greater than his fear was his rage¡­ and his tiredness. All he¡¯d built, all he¡¯d sacrificed, all he¡¯d done¡­ all under threat. He would not allow that, could not allow that, for it all to have been for nothing. ¡°You will defeat every enemy, daemon, dragon or death itself. You will submit to nothing, no god, no master nor conscience.¡± Memory¡¯s fell voice whispered in his ear, each sentence echoing with the sound of the blows that had rained down upon his increasingly desperate guard at the time. Reality was seldom so easy, or so kind. His conscience gnawed at him, to consign people who trusted him to oblivion was a terrible thing even by his standards, to take people who held power and direct them to his will. Once upon a time, in a much younger man, the thought of it would have been intoxicating, now it made him want to be sick. He quelled that urge too, realising that his friends were waiting for him to continue, ¡°First though we need a safe place to work out of. Originally I was only thinking about somewhere that neither the Paladin Order or the Necropolis would look for me, having to add Vulcanus and the Umbral Temple to that list rather trims the options.¡± ¡°You¡¯re talking death zones.¡± Natalya observed with more than a hint of trepidation. ¡°What¡¯s a death zone?¡± Alec asked, terminal curiosity still apparently at play. ¡°Exactly what it sounds like.¡± The necromancer told him, ¡°It¡¯s a place that kills you. Simple as, you cross the line of glowing sigils that give audible, visual, mental and most importantly contextual warnings that the other side of it is bad¡­ you don¡¯t walk back out. Which raises the question why we¡¯d ever even consider stepping inside the kind of death trap that even most zombies are smart enough not to enter?¡± ¡°Because there¡¯s at least one I¡¯m sure I can crack open.¡± Erebus replied, steel in his gaze and surety in his voice. ¡°How sure is sure?¡± Nat demanded, his former squad leader not convinced in the slightest ¨C people had been trying to break into most those self-contained hellscapes for longer than either of them had been alive. ¡°Better than fifty-fifty?¡± He noted the doubtful looks he was getting, ¡°Sixty-forty. Look can you think of a better place to lay low while we make preparations? Even if someone manages to get a scry off on us there¡¯s no way they¡¯ll follow us in.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure. These attacks haven¡¯t been¡­ normal, I¡¯ve never even heard of an organisation spending mageblood like this, not since the Age of Invasion, and last I checked we aren¡¯t up to the eyeballs in gribbly horrors.¡± Natalya countered, ¡°though you¡¯re right I don¡¯t have anywhere better.¡± ¡°That does concern me. A lot. Last I checked in with the Umbral Temple they regarded Karatas and I as boon companions.¡± ¡°Perhaps they got tired of owing you a debt.¡± Amara suggested, ¡°Which you¡¯ve never explained by the way, what did you do for them that¡¯s worth killing for?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t really tell you.¡± ¡°Even though they¡¯re actively trying to kill people around you, possibly you as well?¡± The vampire singularly unimpressed at the secrecy, face contorting into a rictus snarl that exposed her fangs, going from friendly and approachable to horror of the night in a moment. ¡°I need you to trust me on this Ra, this one¡¯s so secret that I can¡¯t even tell you why I can¡¯t tell you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not good enough, not this time.¡± The vampire replied mournfully, ¡°I deserve to know why people want me dead, if you can¡¯t give me that much then we¡¯re done, I¡¯ll throw myself on the mercy of the Council and see if they can protect me.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Erebus hissed, ¡°It¡¯s¡­ you¡¯d be in danger just knowing, more danger than you are now.¡± ¡°More danger than assassins?! More danger than being on the run for my life? Of being cast out of the Vulcanus?!¡± Amara just short of screaming, the infamous pyromancer¡¯s temper coming to the fore perhaps. ¡°Yes.¡± The necromancer informed her, ¡°It would put a target on your back that could never be removed, The Umbral would hunt you to the ends of Reath, daemons would know your name and not fondly, the fae would seek to carve daggers from your bones.¡± ¡°At least I¡¯d know who was hunting me and why.¡± The vampire protested, starting to border on shrill. Erebus¡¯ eyes narrowed, ¡°Mara, are you entirely yourself?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± She yelled, ¡°I¡­ I was in the middle of the Rite of Compassion when they struck¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m me right now.¡± ¡°Wraiths wept.¡± Both necromancers swore as one, though it was Natalya who continued, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me? I could have¡­¡± only to trail off as her imagination failed her. ¡°Done nothing.¡± The vampire sighed, anger vanishing unnaturally fast. ¡°Noone can do anything, least of all me because I don¡¯t even know if there¡¯s anything to be done and it¡¯s driving me crazy.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a hard thing, not being sure if you¡¯re you.¡± Erebus said, with the weariness of experience, for all he was the youngest of the three there was a weight to the words that they couldn¡¯t gainsay, ¡°You¡¯ve got to decide whether you like yourself, and if you do then decide it doesn¡¯t actually matter who¡¯s really in here.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that¡­¡± Amara admitted, ¡°At least it¡¯s not just that, if it¡¯s not all me in here, or if not all of me is here, then what about¡­¡± She stopped, glancing at Holly, Alec and Sato, settling lamely on ¡°it?¡± ¡°Qrilotesh will be fine.¡± Erebus consoled her, brazenly ignoring the look of betrayal and dawning horror on his friend¡¯s face, ¡°They¡¯ve got a strong personality and millennia of making these pacts, chances are they barely even noticed.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t just say their name like that, not in front of-¡° ¡°Amy, the fact Vulcanus is backed by an elemental is hardly a secret, or if it is then it¡¯s a damn cheap one. It cost me one pint of bitter to learn it.¡± ¡°A half dozen freshly baked cookies for me.¡± Natalya antagonised gently, smiling as she did so. ¡°And what¡¯s anyone going to do with the knowledge? The last elemental in their weight class, and I mean physical weight, forget magical strength, flattened two cities and redrew a skyline, and that was such a best case scenario Second Response threw a party that lasted over a day.¡± Erebus half explained and half griped. ¡°Fine. So it¡¯s not the best kept secret in the world, is a little respect and decorum too much to ask for?¡± ¡°Yeah, I think it¡¯s safe to say you¡¯re fine Mara.¡± The necromancer replied dryly, ¡°But you¡¯re entirely right we need to know who wants me dead that badly. And I know just how to do it¡­¡± He trailed off, waiting quietly, and as always, for the inevitable. He didn¡¯t get it this time, no one leapt upon the pause, demanded answers or otherwise engaged with the melodrama, even Alec just gave him a tired look and waited him out. ¡°We need to wait things out,¡± He continued smoothly, ¡°Find somewhere no one would ever look, make quiet investigations, but first we need to make sure we¡¯ve ditched any magical tracking.¡± ¡°I¡¯m clean on my end.¡± Natalya assured him. ¡°Qrilotesh purged me personally.¡± Amara added. ¡°Ooh kinky¡­¡± The older necromancer quipped to a fiery glare from the vampire. Erebus rubbed at his brow as he decided not to comment on the phrasing, ¡°No countermeasures are perfect, we¡¯re going to need to guarantee we¡¯re clear and free if we¡¯re to make this work. You both know what that means¡­¡± ¡°Ugh come on kid, anything but that. Can¡¯t you just, I dunno, dump me in a vat of alchemical waste, it¡¯ll have a similar effect and I¡¯m more likely to emerge the same species.¡± Nat groused, arms folded in disgust. ¡°The fire tastes funny there and the sunlight acts weird, I¡¯m never sure if it¡¯s safe or not.¡± Amara added. ¡°Tough. If we want to live, we have to visit Arcadia.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 3 - The Old Soldier, The Monster & The Demon Arcadia, the sole city maintained in Avalon, the lands of the Fae, to describe it as a place of myth and legend was to sell it short. Myths and legends were just tourists when they visited Arcadia. Or so it was said. Where the laws of physics were little more than suggestions, bent upon the anvil of the strongest wills, where everything was for sale and where time was a memory. But that, ironically, had been a long time ago. Arcadia endured, still wondrous, still vibrant, and no longer even bothering to hide the dark underside it maintained. The Fae were sticklers for rules, and as interest in them had waned they¡¯d only gotten more predatory in their dealings with mortalkind. Anyone so foolish as to even say ¡®thank you¡¯ to a Fae lord would be lucky to still have all their children afterwards. It was however still the most magical place in the known multiverse, the sheer chaos of all those spells clashing, mixing, annihilating and creating was a death sentence to any magic so delicate as a tracking spell. Scrying mirrors showed little more than swirling static when trying to scry into Arcadia, and even that only when Arcadia was feeling polite. Alec knew none of this, he¡¯d heard of Arcadia, but no one had ever gone into detail about it. Holly on the other hand¡­ well dryads had always got along with the Fae, and Von Mori had even visited Arcadia, and she¡¯d had a will strong enough that even the Fae Queen herself, in either of her guises, had been unable to reforge reality around her. To them Arcadia was not a place to be scared of. Amara and Natalya however were not so na?ve. ¡°Want to live? You¡¯re joking, that place is little more than a meatgrinder for mages.¡± Natalya growled, ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances with the tracking spell.¡± ¡°Ditto.¡± Amara said hurriedly. ¡°Nat you were complaining at me just minutes ago that I must have been sloppy in my evasion of tracking, well if you want a guarantee that we aren¡¯t being followed then we have no choice but to risk Arcadia, or at the very least the Avalonion wilds.¡± Erebus explained reasonably, and then continued unreasonably, ¡°Besides, there are things I simply can¡¯t tell you outside of a location of absolute privacy. Some serious sh- stuff happened today and I want to tell you what I can. Seruatis was one option, Avalon would frankly be the next easiest to access and most likely the safest.¡± ¡°You¡¯re asking us to take a lot on faith kid, give us something at least.¡± Amara butted in before an argument could break out. ¡°Fine. There was a prophecy today, a big one.¡± That stunned them into silence. A fortuitous one as it happened for it gave the assembled six a few moments noticed as something staggered out of the blizzard and through the barrier of Sato¡¯s shield, the beleaguered hemisphere of calm popping like a soap bubble in the face of an unfriendly cactus. Alec for his part dove to the ground, dragging Holly down with him, and just in time as hail the size of walnuts punched through the space they¡¯d been standing in, the storm vicious as the wind tore at the two, the cold almost a living thing in its spite. It lasted a few seconds longer than it should as three master mages tried to erect their own barriers to the storm, all with entirely different means and managing to completely foul each other¡¯s efforts. Erebus put up a barrier spell, a stronger version of Sato¡¯s bubble of calm intended to act as a full shield rather than just break the teeth of the wind. That was torn apart by Natalya¡¯s entropic pavilion, reducing hail to little more than sleet and snow and breaking up the coherency of the wind ¨C and unravelling the barrier. That in turn was blasted apart by the dome of fire that burst forth from Amara¡¯s hands, the energy expended rendering it worse than useless, a flash of superheated air turned ice to water which then crashed down on all below soaking them through to the bone as the cold returned to bite even deeper than before. Sato thankfully had held back his own spell, taking the mana from the frayed fabric of Natalya¡¯s spell, the dissipating shards of Erebus¡¯ shield and the wisps of fire mana fighting helplessly against the piercing cold and dumping them all into the teleport spell he¡¯d been working on since before Erebus had even arrived there. * The new location was reasonably warm, that was a mercy given the soaked and bedraggled state of the spluttering mages. Sure even the lowliest apprentice had at least some waterproofing but when what could only be described as a wall of water descended it really was a case of hermetically sealed or bust. Even struggling to see through the cascade dragged with them it was still just moments until they realised that the six in the mouth of the cave were in fact nine. One had been expected. Two were uninvited. The creature that had destroyed their protection had been caught up in the spell as well it was... an old man. He was struggling to even stand as he leaned on his stick, his clothes torn to rags by the storm he¡¯d just waded through, feet all but blue, veins visibly bulging everywhere and ribs visible through the gaps in his clothes. He certainly didn¡¯t look like a threat and yet of the three that Alec was yet to meet he was the one that everyone was aiming at, Erebus¡¯ staff charged with some kind of aetheric evil that glowed a soft green, Natasha¡¯s crackling with barely withheld lightning whilst Amara had, inevitably, gone for fire, a small sun on the end of her own stave. Sato hadn¡¯t gone for a stave, but he did have three phials held between the fingers of a hand, the arm raised to shatter them on the ground at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°I have the primary brain.¡± Erebus murmured soft, low and, above all, urgent. ¡°I have the secondary.¡± Amara hissed as the fireball on the tip of her staff went from red to blue. ¡°I have the heart.¡± Natasha added for good measure. Sato didn¡¯t say anything, frankly Alec was starting to suspect he was more than just taciturn but actually mute. Noone dared move a muscle as the old man stared them down, which allowed Alec to take in the other tableau, and was frankly astonished that it was the shrivelled fossil they were scared off when there was an honest to null demon in the room. At over seven feet in height she cast an intimidating silhouette against the cave mouth, her skin was not the stereotypical crimson but rather a deep and rich purple, though really just her face was visible. Long spiralling horns led down to inhumanly angular features and ears so pointed they probably counted as weapons. Spikes of bone jutted from her chin. Other than that it was hard to make out any details, the demoness clad entirely in thick, plated armour, though Alec had never seen an example of plated mail that was quite so gratuitously spiky. He¡¯d seen the nearly barren and battle-scarred armour of the rogue paladin Lutan, the resplendent and beautiful filigree of some of Seruatis¡¯ retirees, the almost second skin of Alisha¡¯s mail, and even the incredibly heavy steel of one of Seruatis¡¯ dragons. This new example struck him as impractical, needle like spikes extending off of each joint, and the fingers and toes were claws in all but name. Frankly he¡¯d rather be the wearer¡¯s enemy than ally, distance seemed safer. They were in their own frozen moment of combat, one of the taloned gauntlets gripped tight around the throat what appeared to be a hole in the world, a void of colour so deep that Alec realised that everything he¡¯d ever called black in his life had just been a form of grey. The absolute lack of colour was roughly human shaped, or so he thought, It was genuinely hard to tell but he could at least make out an arm, head and dangling legs from this angle, the creature two dimensional in appearance. It was clutching at that taloned grip, trying to dissolve the armour in its hands but the metal regenerated almost as fast. Erebus barely spared them a glance, whatever conclusions he¡¯d drawn from their presence he was keeping to himself for now, not that Alec minded. The teenager was far too busy pressing himself against the cave wall alongside Holly, trying desperately to stay out of everyone¡¯s line of fire and not appear to be a threat. ¡°If you four don¡¯t put those spells away someone¡¯s going to get hurt.¡± The old man rumbled, his voice like milled gravel with a side of grit. ¡°That¡¯s the idea.¡± Erebus pointed out evenly, if anything the green glow on his staff only got brighter. ¡°How do you rate your chances?¡± He chuckled, sweeping a fairly dismissive gaze across the four mages arrayed against him. ¡°One in four.¡± The necromancer admitted, though there was a surprisingly hopeful note, ¡°but I¡¯m feeling lucky.¡± ¡°You always did have more courage than sense old man.¡± The living fossil growled as he leaned on his walking stick. ¡°I¡¯m still here aren¡¯t I?¡± Erebus countered. ¡°And more luck than courage.¡± He continued as if he hadn¡¯t been interrupted, ¡°What will it took to convince you of my peaceable intentions?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure you can.¡± The necromancer shrugged, ¡°You see in my head it always comes back to one problem, if I wanted me dead, and I mean really wanted it, I¡¯d send you. A lot of people seem to want me dead right now Al, and here you are.¡± ¡®Al¡¯ appeared to mull that over, gaze slightly unfocused upwards and lips moving ever so slightly as he ran that argument back and forth in his head before conceding, ¡°I see your point. But seems to me you just might have it backwards, what if someone really didn¡¯t want you dead?¡± ¡°How¡¯d you find us?¡± Erebus asked flatly. ¡°Look can we at least put away the spells folks? I¡¯ve got a terrible itch developing on my nose and being unable to scratch it without having the hand blown off is a hell of a distraction.¡± He grouses, only to raise his hands higher at Erebus¡¯ expression, ¡°Fine. I just had a hunch.¡± ¡°A hunch that was so accurate it got you inside a bubble of calm in a barren wasteland, over a thousand miles from my last known location, whilst wading through a blizzard.¡± Doubtful didn¡¯t even begin to describe Erebus¡¯ expression. ¡°No. A hunch accurate enough that I cashed in a few favours to get a face to face with the Queen of Ice, who I then threatened until she agreed to cast an augur upon her domain for anything disrupting her weather spells, then got teleported just far enough away that Sato wouldn¡¯t sense the incoming spell and have me shredded in transit.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not that much better. How¡¯d you know we¡¯d be in Aegis territory?¡± ¡°Oh please. It¡¯s practically a rule that the first step of fleeing is finding a nice barren wasteland to regroup in, somewhere nice and inhospitable where noone¡¯s going to turn up by accident so anyone who intrudes will be a viable target. I¡¯m old, not stupid.¡± Al grumbled. Erebus gave a little half-shrug, ¡°Plenty of wastelands out there.¡± ¡°Like I said, I had a hunch. Why are you so determined to pull on this thread old man? Especially when there¡¯s a demon lord and an I don¡¯t even know what fighting right next to us?¡± It was a fair question, made all the worse because Erebus knew he couldn¡¯t answer it. He could see some curiosity at the question from Amara, and Natalya¡¯s lips were pursed and her brow scrunched, his fellow necromancer had already figured out he was hiding something. That was always the trouble with intelligent allies, they had a tendency to try and work things out on their own. He still couldn¡¯t tell them about the bard, even if he decided to show his hand now wasn¡¯t the time or the place, but the lying didn¡¯t sit well, and now he was on the spot. ¡°Just call me paranoid.¡± The necromancer hedged, but he lowered his battlestaff, his comrades doing the same. Now that that situation seemed to have resolved itself attention finally turned to the more interesting tableau. The demoness¡¯ slitted eyes flicked to the assembled mages for just a moment, ¡°This spawn of the outside claims to know you necromancer mine.¡± That certainly got some sharp looks from those assembled, Erebus having to weather a storm of amusement, condescension and surprise. ¡°Not like that.¡± The necromancer grumbled, ¡°She worked for my teacher in the hells. It¡¯s good to see you well, Lana. Admittedly she was a cubus back then and not an egos but the eyes are unmistakable.¡± The eyes certainly were distinctive, slitted like a cat¡¯s, amethyst in hue but with the sparkle and shine of fool¡¯s gold, it almost looked like they were producing light rather than reflecting it and Alec found he couldn¡¯t look into them for more than a handful of seconds. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Sometimes I fear you were trained too well.¡± The demoness mused, ¡°Now do I kill this lesser child of the abyss or not?¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t. Hey Susan, how¡¯s things?¡± Erebus gave the living shadow a friendly wave. ¡°Oh you know¡­ just hanging.¡± The hole in the world responded dryly as she was lowered back to the floor. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be a downer but do you actually trust this hellspawn?¡± ¡°With my life, same as you.¡± Erebus answered without missing a beat. ¡°I suppose a round of introductions are in order. I¡¯ll be quite honest I was not expecting such a large response in my favour, it rather changes things. But first introductions.¡± The old man chose to take the lead, ¡°Call me Alice. Warshifter and hoping to die in glorious battle.¡± Alec¡¯s brow furrowed more than a little at that, ¡°Isn¡¯t that a girl¡¯s name?¡± ¡°I am a girl.¡± Alice replied simply, giving a small and rather geriatric curtsy. ¡°More of a spinster now really.¡± Erebus chimed in helpfully. ¡°Yes thank you Ere. For just a moment I¡¯d forgotten that I was old.¡± She said dryly, ¡°But yes, despite the shrivelled husk you see before you I am in fact a woman. Lived most of my life as a woman and if I¡¯d been thinking clearly would have died as a woman.¡± ¡°We did warn you you were in danger of getting stuck back in your original body.¡± The necromancer sighed, ¡°Strenously. If you¡¯d retired two decades ago then you would be enjoying your dotage on a pension large enough you could build out a house out of gold.¡± ¡°Yeah well unfortunately there were these idiots I was rather fond of and they kept doing idiot things.¡± ¡°She means us.¡± Natalya stage-whispered, indicating Alamaya and Erebus but surprisingly not Sato in the us. ¡°How many shifts are you down to?¡± Erebus asked, getting back to business. Alice rubbed at her eyes, ¡°One, maybe two if the first fight¡¯s a short one, but I don¡¯t think so good when the rage hits anymore. And no matter what I do my rearmost left leg has a limp, the docs say it¡¯s psychosomatic but frankly I think they¡¯re just making up words at this point.¡± There was a heavy silence at that, well mostly heavy, Alec and Holly were simply confused. ¡°What else?¡± Sato prompted, putting to death Alec¡¯s growing theory that the mage was mute, the words as soft and subtle as the flap of a barn owl¡¯s wings. He had a very gentle voice to Holly¡¯s surprise, in sharp contrast to his permanently austere expression. For a moment it looked like Alice wasn¡¯t going to answer, ¡°Cancer. Lungs, heart, brain and blood. They say three months. A year tops.¡± And while Alec didn¡¯t know what cancer was, the timescale was fairly declarative and for all her fire in the initial confrontation she sounded terribly resigned to this, and terribly tired. That wasn¡¯t quite right he realised in the second far longer silence that followed, it was her resignation that had given her that fire. Even in the span of a conversation it was clear that Alice was had burned brightly her entire life and that now in the twilight of her fading light she was faced not with a sharp snuffing of the candle nor the grand supernova of evil defied ¡®til one¡¯s last breath but the slow dwindling of the last ember in the fire, alone and made all the worse by the knowledge they¡¯d chosen loneliness. There was no pill quite so bitter as regret. It was the demoness, Lana, who broke the silence, those who knew Alice apparently too overcome by the news, the heavily armoured monster stepping up to place a gentle hand on the old lady¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Any hero can give their life in battle, it takes a true exemplar to give up themselves for their cause and have to live with it afterwards.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t do it to be a hero.¡± Alice growled, deep, sonorous and, for the first time, angry. Lana laughed at that, ¡°Of course not my dear, that¡¯s practically one of the requirements of heroism. Trust me, I have some knowledge of what you gave up, to be confined to a single form is so¡­ stifling. I honestly have no idea how the meatsacks stand it.¡± ¡°Careful Lana, you¡¯re one of us meatsacks now.¡± Erebus chided, ¡°Unless¡­ what was your point of pride exactly?¡± ¡°Bodyguarding.¡± Erebus winced, ¡°She actually¡­?¡± ¡°Volunteers were requested, I won the privilege.¡± The demoness¡¯ jaw stuck out obstinately, daring him to challenge her decision. He didn¡¯t, at least not directly. ¡°I¡¯m getting awfully tired of other people dying for me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid that path has a way to walk yet necromancer mine.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t know that.¡± He hissed, fronting up to the towering monster. ¡°She can.¡± To the absolute and visible shock of those who knew him Erebus stepped back without a word, face crestfallen. ¡°She had some advice for me to give you.¡± Lana continued, placing a delicate hand on the man¡¯s robed shoulder, ¡°You will need three aces for the battle that awaits you.¡± ¡°I have one¡­¡± The necromancer mumbled, ¡°and I know where to find one more.¡± ¡°Aces?¡± Amara interjected, the vampire not enjoying the mildly coded conversation and enjoying the parts she had understood even less. ¡°Response term.¡± Natalya answered, ¡°Basically a secret weapon, something to alter the balance of a fight that you¡¯ve been holding back to avoid proliferation or countermeasures being developed.¡± The pyromancer was mollified and a little relieved at that, ¡°Three seems achievable.¡± The elder necromancer¡¯s laugh was bitter, ¡°Secrets used are secrets wasted. I was unusually happy if I made it through a mission without using mine just to stay alive.¡± ¡°You make it sound like you can only use an ace once.¡± Amara prodded, the idea of using a powerful spell just once was more than a little strange to her. ¡°The opposition pays attention. If your ace is a way to shatter a particular type of spell-shield then there¡¯s a very good chance the next time you¡¯re called up they¡¯ll have adapted it.¡± Nat explained with a ¡®that¡¯s how it is¡¯ shrug of her shoulders. ¡°That and a large number of aces tend to be single use artifacts. You can pack a shocking amount of energy into something if you don¡¯t plan on it surviving the casting, in fact that¡¯s half the reason to make one, so it¡¯s doing the casting and not you.¡± ¡°So what¡¯s the ace you¡¯ve got Ere?¡± The vampire asked curiously, as much a fish out of water with this sort of thing as Alec and Holly were. ¡°What part of secret aren¡¯t you getting flamebrain?¡± Natalya chided, shaking her head in mock disappointment. ¡°Less than five minutes ago we discussed the importance of getting clear of any scrying or tracking, a decent seer or chronomancer could read this conversation if they found this location.¡± ¡°Getting back on track,¡± Erebus stated before an argument could break out properly, ¡°These are Alec and Holly, my apprentice.¡± ¡°Sato, second response mage and precognizant.¡± The mage had lowered his hood, revealing a head shaved meticulously bald, narrow eyes and lightly tanned skin. ¡°Precog-what?¡± Holly asked, more than a little timid, being acknowledged as Erebus¡¯ apprentice had muted her and Alec¡¯s shared curiosity, not wanting to show up their mentor with their own ignorance but still it managed to rear its head. ¡°I can see the future.¡± Sato explained. ¡°Not far like a seer can, just five seconds, but unlike a prophet, seer or reader of bones I see it very accurately.¡± As he said it he swatted away Natalya¡¯s hand, the necromancer trying to poke him in the back of his head. The demoness went next, ¡°Well I figure you know most there is to know about me from little Ere¡¯s questions but might as well get it all out in the open. I¡¯m Lana, not my true name, and I¡¯m a demon of pride who¡¯s been sent by Erebus¡¯ master to ensure he survives the coming days. I will happily sacrifice each and every one of you to achieve it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s reassuring.¡± Amara muttered to herself, a sentiment echoed by Natalya and (in the privacy of his own head) Alec. ¡°It wasn¡¯t meant to be.¡± Lana stated flatly. Sato gasped just before the next person spoke, unable to conceal their reaction. ¡°And then there was one.¡± The shadow mused, all but forgotten, but that had always been her great strength. ¡°Well I¡¯m Susan¡­¡± She carried on, ignoring the gasps from Natalya, Alice and Amara, the trio catching up to Sato at last, ¡°and I was a umbramancer. Now¡­ well I don¡¯t know what I am¡­¡± Susan trailed off, not out of dramatic effect as mages were prone or even because she¡¯d run out of things to say but because the mages and shapeshifter were busy slowly backing Erebus against a cavern wall. ¡°You knew she was alive!?¡± Nat all but screamed, knuckles white around her battlestaff as her former underling raised his hands, opening his mouth to try and say something placating but not being permitted a word in edgeways. His lack of reaction to the reveal had rather betrayed him. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell us?¡± Alice demanded, the old woman struggling for breath in her rage as Amara forsook her own anger to try and hold her back. It was surprising just how much strength the frail form had, the vampire having to dig her heels in to hold them back as that toast-rack chest heaved with exertion. ¡°Let me go Amara, I¡¯m going to scrag his neck.¡± ¡°We had a right to know.¡± was all the pyromancer said, more weepy than wrathful. ¡°He couldn¡¯t tell you.¡± Susan spoke softly but it still carried. ¡°It would have killed you all. Yes even you Alice, the Umbral has always been very protective of its secrets and the existence of creatures like me is the most deeply held.¡± ¡°What are you?¡± Alec asked, trying to keep Susan in profile, it was hard. He¡¯d figured out that she wasn¡¯t actually a shadow but the total darkness of her appearance made judging angle and distance difficult. ¡°I¡¯ll answer that in a minute poppet, just give me a moment to ensure they aren¡¯t going to hurt Ere.¡± Erebus at least was finally getting to plead his case, ¡°It¡¯s like she said, it¡¯s why they took a run at Karatas, the ungrateful gits, and I¡¯m going to guess they¡¯d have taken a shot at me too if they¡¯d had anyone able to get past the Swordsman.¡± ¡°That¡¯s still a choice we should have been given.¡± Alice growled, hard as granite and eyes positively flinty. ¡°And how was I supposed to give it to you?¡± exclaimed Erebus in frustration, ¡°Hey guys there¡¯s this super big secret that I know that would get you killed if I even told you it exists and whoops!¡± ¡°I would have wanted to know.¡± The warshifter told him, utterly unyielding and managing to drag Amara another few inches forwards. ¡°And I wanted to tell you, I just wanted you alive more.¡± ¡°This is going nowhere.¡± Natalya sighed, ¡°Alice I¡¯m as angry as you are, probably, but none of us came here to tear him limb from limb, as tempting as he makes it.¡± ¡°Fine but this isn¡¯t over.¡± The shapeshifter insisted, stepping back from the besieged Erebus. ¡°Never thought for even a moment it would be. For starters if I survive this the Temple is going to have a lot of explaining to do over Karatas.¡± ¡°Oh that¡¯s another thing I want answers to, why in all the hells does he get to know and I don¡¯t? I thought we were friends.¡± Alice howled, a ripple of something chitinous passing across her face. Natalya was at her side in a moment, a hand gentle upon the old woman¡¯s shoulder, ¡°Easy Al. Easy. You only get two, don¡¯t waste one on him.¡± As the mage spoke Lana stepped to interpose herself. Susan rubbed at her eyes, the action almost unnoticed in her shadowy state, ¡°Karatas thought he¡¯d killed me at Maltz¡­ Erebus had him guarding the other end of the shadowgate when he rescued me. After that the Temple took me into custody to make sure I wasn¡¯t a threat and swore them both to secrecy. Then¡­ the experimentation was thorough.¡± Pretty much everyone winced at that one. ¡°Those absolute b-¡° ¡°It was necessary.¡± Susan stated with didactic certainty, ¡°I could have been a threat to every thing that yet walks Reath¡­ Temple¡¯s blood, I am a threat to everything on Reath. My guess is that¡¯s why they sent Nightblades after Karatas, to make sure no one even could find out they were keeping an apocalypse beast in the cellar. Even if they were trusted never to send me into battle, just that potential would have earned them some paranoia.¡± ¡°Well it¡¯s going to backfire on them.¡± Natalya declared, her smile thoroughly unpleasant, ¡°First town we¡¯re in I¡¯m going to send couriers to every councilmember, every Lord Protector and hire town criers in several cities.¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather you didn¡¯t do that.¡± Susan requested gently as she could, ¡°They aren¡¯t bad people, they just have bad leadership, and they aren¡¯t the ones who¡¯d get harassed in the streets over this.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Nat conceded through gritted teeth. Erebus took the momentary lull to seize back at least some control of the conversation, he adored his friends, he really did, but none of them were social animals and keeping things on topic was an act that moved past heroism into the realms of divine intervention. ¡°Now that everyone¡¯s got some idea who they¡¯re working with, who¡¯s actually visited Arcadia before?¡± Only two hands went up, Alice and Lana¡¯s. ¡°Well that makes this a bit more complicated than I¡¯d hoped. For Lana and Susan¡¯s benefit, we need a quick pass through Arcadia to scramble any tracking we¡¯re still carrying. Okay let¡¯s start with ground rules, you do not speak to the fae, you do not acknowledge the fae, if possible you don¡¯t even look at the fae. You do not leave the path. If things escalate to violence you do not hold back and you fight to kill.¡± Erebus listed with deathly seriousness, ¡°Now who¡¯s carrying iron with them?¡± Alec, Natalya, Amara and Sato put up their hands, the latter begrudgingly. ¡°Okay¡­ Alec I¡¯m going to need your backpack. Everyone else, put it in the bag, I don¡¯t care how small it is, if it¡¯s a belt clip, a hairpin or loose nail, it goes in.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be holding onto this?¡± Amara questioned, not that she had any iron on her, ¡°I mean fae are weak to iron aren¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Precisely. How would you feel if visitors to your home turned up covered in wooden stakes?¡± Erebus countered as people began to fill the pack, ¡°It¡¯s worse than that actually, you drop something made of iron in Arcadia and you¡¯ll render the land uninhabitable for quite a distance, and earn the kinds of enemies that requires a person to live out eternity in Seruatis.¡± ¡°So no iron.¡± The vampire nodded, her concerns addressed. ¡°No iron. Now let me see your shoes.¡± He ordered, begin to check everyone¡¯s footwear, or at least those who were wearing them. Somewhat bemusedly everyone did, though it was only Natalya who¡¯s footwear came up short. ¡°Nails in the boots. Take them off and I¡¯ll remove them.¡± The necromancer rolled her eyes, ¡°You¡¯re joking right? I like these boots, I¡¯ve had them for years, there¡¯s no way¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯d kill the very ground you walked on.¡± Erebus told her flatly, ¡°I don¡¯t want to have to fight my way out of Arcadia because we pissed off every fae lord in Avalon, the king, the lord of autumn and both aspects of the queen.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you just transmute them to copper or something? I really don¡¯t want to walk through Avalon barefoot.¡± Natalya grumbled, but did begin taking her boots off. Her fellow necromancer shook his head, ¡°Not well enough, if you wanted the whole boot copper that would be doable, energy intensive, but doable, but targeting the nails is a bit too much precision, I¡¯d just end up ruining your boots.¡± With that Erebus accepted the boots, but instead of just putting them in Alec¡¯s pack he instead began removing the hobnails from them, making a yanking motion with his index and forefinger, the nail pulling free with telekinesis. ¡°What happened to not ruining them?¡± Nat snapped, ¡°I don¡¯t have spares.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll put the nails back when we¡¯re through Arcadia, have some faith in me.¡± As he said it he put the now nailless boots into the pack. ¡°It¡¯s not so bad going barefoot.¡± Alice assured her, despite the fact her own feet were still all but blue from her long trudge through the snow, only a shapeshifter¡¯s superlative regeneration allowing her to keep her feet. Even Holly, similarly lacking in footwear, gave the old woman a doubtful look, still the dryad tried to be supportive. ¡°She¡¯s right, it¡¯s great to be able to dig your toes into the soil, feel the bugs beneath your feet¡­¡± the dryad trailed off as she realised this wasn¡¯t quite getting the reception she was after, Natalya simply looking more and more annoyed. ¡°Enough picking on the shoeless wonder here, everyone get ready for transit.¡± Erebus said, turning his attention to the cave wall as he began to chant. ¡°Though the path be long and weary, and winter¡¯s bite is sharp, Though rising sun makes blind and bleary, and birdsong becomes springs harp, Let not the falling leaves beneath, nor burning sun above, Distract me from the glorious idyll, that is Avalon¡¯s love.¡± The portal rose, a literal stone archway bursting from the ground of the cave, absolutely festooned with fresh blossoms, a beautiful and bountiful kaleidoscope of blues, yellows, reds and white and through it¡­ Avalon, vibrant and green, the grass lustrous, the sky clear. Just that small glimpse told Holly she would never love a place as deeply or as dearly as she would the land of the Fae. Every blade of grass a rich green, every bead of dew a glistening jewel. She longed to walk through it, to dig her toes into the earth and pretend for just a few moments to be a tree once more and to her surprise and bemused joy she could feel a similar desire from Alec, not quite as hungry but not just an echo of hers either. Without thinking about it she stepped towards the gateway only to be blocked by a spiky arm as Lana stopped her. ¡°Let the living siege engines go first child, just in case.¡± Alice and Erebus gave her amused glances as they stepped through into the green idyll. Moments later something tried to kill them. Oathkeeper - Chapter 4 - An Arcadian Greeting The man sitting inside the stalagmite had been there a very long time. The calcium rich rock forming slowly around him over tens of thousands of years, it was an unusually tall stalagmite for its age but that was just a result of having a base to build upon. He should have been dead, millenia without food was usually bad for a human being but this was something of a special circumstance. He wasn¡¯t allowed to die. Normally being told that would be meaningless, when told by a demon king in the heart of her own realm¡­ he just counted himself fortunate that he was also being kept from feeling hunger and thirst whilst being spared the agonies of muscular atrophy, or at least he had once, there wasn¡¯t much of a mind left now. He didn¡¯t know why he was here anymore, if he was being tortured, kept captive or had simply been forgotten about. He didn¡¯t even know who he was, his only stimulus the slow drip onto his head that had led to his rocky prison. Finally something new came along, the sound of cloven feet upon stone. The sound was coming from behind him but the rocky growth prevented him from turning his head. With agonizing suspense the demon came into view, her face was reptilian and grey-scaled, as if all colour and life had been drained from her. She had no eyes to speak of, just sunken pits whilst her horns were a mismatched pair of onyx spirals, each with a wicked tip, one pointing forwards, the other outward to the left, and when she smiled it was to show several rows of razor sharp needle teeth, and that was all of her that was visible, the rest shrouded in magical darkness so complete that he couldn¡¯t even be sure she was humanoid. There wasn¡¯t much danger of her smiling right now as the man in the rock stared at her without even a glint nor gleam of recognition in his steel grey eyes. ¡°Another failure.¡± She sighed, banishing the stone with a lazy wave of her hand as she thought aloud, ¡°We¡¯ll restore from your last success and work from there.¡± Erebus nodded in acquiescence, ¡°Of course master. I am sorry for failing.¡± The restoration of his mind seamless as his teacher stripped most of the memories of being trapped in the rock from him whilst returning those that had preceded it where they had been faded to nothing by time. It was one of the casual shows of power that still terrified him every time, the best mind mages of Reath would have taken years of careful alteration to achieve the same effect. And there was always the chance that he was only being convinced these were his memories and someone else entirely was now sitting in his head. It was best not to dwell on it. ¡°You are the student. I am the master. The failure is mine.¡± She declared, ¡°And we cannot afford more failures like that one, time presses.¡± ¡°How long was I in there? Reath-side I mean.¡± Erebus asked as he stretched, checking that his body hadn¡¯t deteriorated, it hadn¡¯t, the demoness would never have allowed it to, but it was also important to check lest he miss a test. ¡°Three days, two hours.¡± She told him, ¡°You have now been missing three months. We will table your training against ennui for a later time. Go with Lana. Lana, the Dance of the Elementals into the Serendipitous Waltz into the Graviton Cascade, don¡¯t be gentle.¡± Erebus withheld a wince, the three combat forms were not easy, the Serendipitous Waltz in particular could prove quite painful while the Graviton Cascade was, whilst the epitome of magical combat, useless outside of demon worlds and other planes of reality where the laws of physics could be suborned. He did not complain though, instead bowing to his master and his dance partner, ¡°A question master, why was I kept in the rock so long? A hundred thousand years seems¡­ excessive.¡± ¡°It is excessive, and it broke you.¡± She replied, taking her role of teacher with deathly seriousness, ¡°I judge it the limit of how long the mightiest creatures of Reath could hold you in a temporal trap.¡± ¡°I would have died of old age long before that.¡± Erebus pointed out, suspecting she had forgotten the frailties of mortal flesh. ¡°No you wouldn¡¯t. You may be killed but you will never be defeated, you¡¯re too defiant to allow it. Now go train with Lana before I decide I will be your sparring partner.¡± For a moment he contemplated defiance, then shuddered once and followed after the succubus. * It was with a struggle and a snarl that Erebus tore free of the memory, just in time to stop the blade descending towards his head. It was a snap reaction, the barrier of runes had been drilled into him through constant repetition and then honed further by regular ambushes whenever he slept, ate or was similarly off-guard. The faeblade tore through it with a flash of sparks, but the barrier had slowed it enough for the mage to sidestep as he retook his bearings and took in his foe. A black knight, not the deadliest of foes Avalon had to offer, but not a lightweight either, any fae brave enough to openly defy the rulers of Arcadia was worthy of respect, that they still drew breath spoke to their strength and skill. If it had been a green knight, one of Avalon¡¯s nigh immortal guardians, the necromancer would have been worried. As it was¡­ Erebus¡¯s blast of kinetic force sent the sable plated fae bouncing across the grass, the final bounce leaving a small furrow as they came to a stop. ¡°Put down your blade sir knight, I have no quarrel with thee.¡± A mellifluous woman¡¯s voice replied from behind the blank faced helm as they got mechanically to their feet and raised their blade once more, ¡°Thou hast the scent of fae blood upon thy soul, that is quarrel enough for any scion of the Tuatha.¡± ¡°Be that as it may, the blood was spilled upon my home soil, not thine. It¡¯s a foolish hunter who chases the fox into the den of the bear.¡± The necromancer rebutted, trying to keep the fae talking as he checked on the condition of his companions. Alice was just staring blankly into space, doubtless caught in the same mental snare that had bewitched him, though the old woman was no more, instead appearing as Erebus remembered, and more importantly as Alice remembered herself. Vibrant blonde hair, full lips and full cheeks spread wide in a rather dopey smile that probably had something to do with whatever memory she was being shown by the black knight¡¯s mental assault. Her skin was supple and sun-kissed and her figure full, a far cry from the decrepit human raisin she would become in later life. In that moment Erebus could have forgiven Avalon its deadly nature for allowing his friend to just be herself one last time, not the old husk craving death, nor the enraged beast of war she¡¯d oft worked as, but the happy, carefree woman who¡¯d lived every day as if it might be her last. Of his other companions there was no sign, a source of no small concern though it at least widened his options. Alice could take pretty much any spell he could dish out so the risk of collateral damage had just gone down to zero. Still their absence nagged at him, the possibilities playing away at the back of his mind. ¡°I care not the why of it, only the what.¡± The black knight told him sharply, ¡°My oaths compel me, I must slay thee.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± Erebus sighed, restraining the urge to rub at his eyes whilst cursing all honourbound fools and missing the irony entirely, ¡°Then we are at an impasse. What is thy name sir knight and to whom should I commend thee?¡± ¡°Elora Evenstar. And commend me to none. And thine necromancer?¡± ¡°Erebus the Grey Walker. Likewise.¡± There was just time for recognition to glimmer in shock behind the slits of the helm when the magician struck. ¡°Fulmina. Pyros. Rend.¡± Three spells in half as many seconds, and that was just the verbal component as with a flicking gesture he accelerated a handful of pebbles from the ground up past the sound barrier while sending a cutting blade of air parallel to the horizontal at about chest height with the other hand. Credit to Elora, her barrier held off the first spell, Fulmina, the near instant burst of lightning that sprung from Erebus to her, popping her magical shielding but not going any further than that. Her armour dissipated enough of the heat from Pyros that while painful it wouldn¡¯t prove harmful. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. The airblade broke harmlessly on the black plated mail, missing any chinks in the armour though imparting enough momentum to at least disrupt her balance as the rocks slammed home, pocking and denting the armour but doing little more than bruising the fae lady beneath. None of that mattered a damn in the face of Rend. It was as if two giant hands had grabbed the upper and lower halves of the knight and pulled, tearing her in twain at the waist. Even magic had its applications of brute force and power. Panting slightly from the effort of so many spells at once, Erebus moved to kneel beside the dying woman so that he might hear her last words, making sure to kick her blade away as he did so. With shaking hands she raised her visor, blood dribbling down from her mouth as she spoke, voice still ringing clear and beautiful, ¡°I regret none of it.¡± The black knight declared to the air, tone one of surprised realisation, not really even looking at her killer, perhaps not even noticing him, ¡°Those who never die, never live¡­ the old witch was right.¡± With that she was gone and Erebus felt the change in the air as time resumed its normal progress. It had been a subtle working and cleverly done, applied during the moments it had taken him to claw his way out of the remembrance spell. Even for a fae in their home land temporal manipulation was a hefty spell and it explained why Elora had gone after him with a blade, nearly all her magical strength had gone into preventing his allies from joining them. Her armour was more than resilient enough to handle most battlemages but she hadn¡¯t been counting on running into a supernatural heavyweight, or perhaps she simply hadn¡¯t had a choice, a fae¡¯s word was binding and as she¡¯d said, her oaths compelled her. It was Natalya that laid a hand on his shoulder, ¡°We need to get moving.¡± There was a pause as she too stared at the dead woman, ¡°Did she deserve it?¡± ¡°Probably not.¡± Erebus admitted as he got to his feet, ¡°Farewell Elora Evenstar.¡± With a grunt of effort he lifted out a deep chunk of soil, there was no danger of mana depletion in Avalon, as long as his body could take the strain he could cast spells until he burst like a fuse. With great care he levitated Elora into the unmarked grave and lowered the soil back down. It hadn¡¯t been a fair fight. Few fights were. In other circumstances Elora could very well have ended him. If she¡¯d been just a few feet closer to the portal. If they¡¯d had this fight in Forest Von Mori, the site of his last defeat, she¡¯d have likely bisected him or forced him to use so much life force (that strange energy healers and necromancers called vitae) that he¡¯d have been left more decrepit than Alice. If he hadn¡¯t healed his wounds he¡¯d never have been able to let loose with so many spells. hells above and below he probably couldn¡¯t have even walked into Arcadia, the ambient mana would have dispersed the spells stopping him from just bleeding to death internally. He¡¯d needed that fight, it confirmed to him that he was back to form, not some wounded warrior just deathseeking. Turning back to the others he saw the rest of the group had stepped through the portal. Lana was unaffected by Avalon, or rather she was already her ideal self, pride demons being what they were. Natalya was similarly unaffected though he could see from the clenching of her jaw that it was taking some effort not to be swept away in the better-than-real illusion that Avalon offered all who visited it. Holly was totally unaffected, which he¡¯d expected, and neither was Alec, which he hadn¡¯t. The bond between the two was clearly growing strong and well. Sato and Amara hadn¡¯t been as lucky. The precognizant magician¡¯s skin was a maze of eyes, the watery orbs flitting from object to object as he struggled not to be simply overwhelmed by the sensory input. Amara¡¯s transformation was even more startling, the vampire¡¯s robe was missing, the woman¡¯s sable skin now pale as paper and slightly translucent. She was a massive hairless gangly limbed thing, her maw ringed by a lamprey¡¯s teeth and her eyes deep black orbs that held all the compassion and love of a dental drill. She crawled on all fours and her claws left deep furrows in the ground, and, perhaps most noticeably, she was on fire, the flames licking harmlessly up her as they crackled in the morning air. Erebus had seen similar creatures, minus the fire, the really old vampires, the smart, the cunning, the swift, that had survived against all odds since before the gods fell. Strigoi, he¡¯d heard them called, in whispers by fools who didn¡¯t know enough to pretend they didn¡¯t exist at all. He was fairly sure two slept in Seruatis though he¡¯d likely never know for sure. He didn¡¯t blame Alec and Holly for backing away from her in fear, from their perspective they¡¯d turned around staring in wonder at Avalon¡¯s beauty and boom monster. He was also rather proud of them that all they did was move out of reach, their time in Seruatis tempering their reactions, they¡¯d met plenty of monsters and were on good terms with several. ¡°Okay nobody panic.¡± The necromancer declared, not exactly the best choice of words if you were trying to prevent a panic ironically. He¡¯d forgotten to warn them about the shift, fool that he was, so used to being able to just ignore it that he hadn¡¯t even considered what would happen to a vampire brought through to Arcadia. ¡°It¡¯s just Amara. You okay ¡®Mar?¡± ¡°My skin itches and I can¡¯t scratch it without turning myself into sashimi. Oh and I¡¯ve apparently had my best robe stolen. I¡¯ve had better days if I¡¯m honest.¡± The strigoi hissed, though there was still enough of Amara¡¯s usual voice for it to be recognisable. ¡°Yeah I should have warned you about this. Avalon shows you¡­ well it¡¯s hard to properly explain it but the best description I can give you is that it shows your higher self, the you at the apex of your path. In your case it¡¯s dragged you forwards by several epochs.¡± Erebus explained, ¡°Now can anyone see a footpath or trail? We don¡¯t want to go wandering off.¡± * Now that Holly knew she wasn¡¯t going to be hideously savaged she tuned the necromancer out, Alec would fill her in later and if she was about to do anything truly dumb she¡¯d feel his panic spike well before she could go through with it. With all this talk of finding a path she realized she had a chance, here and now, to be genuinely useful, to pull her weight in a way these monsters and magicians could not match. Much as she had done in their trek to Seruatis she could commune with the spirits of this land for directions, sure the faelands had a reputation for being tricksy but no plant from the smallest seed of grass to the very mightiest of redwoods would say no to a dryad in need. It helped that this was what she¡¯d already wanted to do. From the very moment she¡¯d seen the sheer lustre of the grass she¡¯d wanted to just stand in it, to work her toes into the dirt and pretend to be a tree once more as she communed with the world. With a carefree smile the dryad allowed herself to relax and just listen to the voice of the world. The silence was deafening. There was nothing there, it wasn¡¯t even that the plants lacked spirits like herself, they lacked awareness, alive perhaps but not living by any definition she would put claim to. They were just there. ¡°Are you okay Hol?¡± Alec asked her, knowing she wasn¡¯t though he didn¡¯t know why. His hand on her elbow as he gently guided her after the others members of the eclectic crew who had apparently just picked a direction and gone with it, Erebus at the front. ¡°Y-yes, it¡¯s nothing.¡± She assured him, not truly sure why she was lying. ¡°Understood.¡± The teen replied without even a hint of hurt, this wasn¡¯t the first time they¡¯d done this dance, he knew she¡¯d open up in her own time. ¡°Need some space?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± And that was that, Alec increasing his pace to talk with Natalya, the teen hoping to wheedle some war stories out of the elder necromancer, preferably ones with Erebus doing something embarrassing. ¡°You saw it.¡± The words startled Holly, especially because the person saying them quietly in her ear was apparently leading them whilst holding an animated conversation with Alice, who was enjoyed her renewed youthful vigour to the point she was practically skipping. ¡°It¡¯s all so empty.¡± She admitted, ¡°It all seems so wondrous and yet this entire place, it¡¯s hollow.¡± ¡°I¡¯m told it was wondrous once.¡± And Holly could practically hear the shrug in that pause, ¡°I wish you could have just enjoyed it but Von Mori rather put that possibility to bed.¡± ¡°She did?¡± The dryad not exactly surprised, the avatar of the forest, who could only be loosely described as her mother, was a being of immense power, but she wasn¡¯t chatty. ¡°Damn near tore a chunk out of Arcadia. Some of the fae lords had been enslaving dryads of her forest, catching them in promises and then enforcing them. Admittedly the dryads thought they were humans to be lured to their deaths but Von Mori didn¡¯t particularly care. This was way back, between the Second and Third Paladin-Necromancer war.¡± ¡°What did she do?¡± The wide-eyed dryad asked, trying hard not to seem overeager. ¡°She tore a hole into Avalon, and the woods of Avalon walked with her. That¡¯s why there¡¯s no spirits of the land anymore, the Fae do not want a repeat of their own home in open rebellion. She walked into Arcadia and demanded of the King of Autumn that the dryads who¡¯d been kidnapped be released. He, of course, refused, a promise is a promise.¡± ¡°And then what happened?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say there¡¯s a reason that the Court of Autumn only has a Lord now. But one of the consequences is that dryads are no longer bound by fae glamour, anything to avoid an encore.¡± ¡°She was amazing.¡± Holly breathed, ¡°I mean I knew she was, but I never knew what she¡¯d actually done.¡± ¡°She was amazing.¡± Erebus agreed before adding with a voice like adamantine, ¡°and will be again.¡± Holly didn¡¯t know what to say to that, so settled on the age old method of changing the subject, just a little, ¡°So if I can¡¯t be affected then why does Amara still look all monstery?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s not you that has to be convinced. And like all fae glamour it¡¯s a little bit illusion and a little bit real, think of it as a shell built around the person it¡¯s effecting, something that better reflects their self image.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°¡¯Mar never really has come to terms with her vampirism, though I¡¯ll confess I didn¡¯t know it was that bad.¡± ¡°What does Sato see himself as then? Because that looks rather painful.¡± ¡°All seeing, all knowing.¡± Erebus explained simply. ¡°Damn. I hate to do this Holly, but could I ask you a favour. It¡¯s a big one I¡¯m afraid.¡± Holly paused, torn between a thoughtfulness and a scowl, the mere idea that she could do something to help Erebus with his power unbound seemed ludicrous, and, more importantly, dangerous. ¡°That depends on what it is.¡± ¡°Just¡­ try and look out for Sato and Amara.¡± The necromancer realized he¡¯d need to elaborate a little, ¡°Seeing yourself as a monster isn¡¯t a good thing, especially here. People who do that have a tendency to die heroically, just try to make them think about things before they throw themselves in front of a fireball.¡± ¡°Why Sato though?¡± ¡°Noone is all-seeing, and we¡¯re in a land infamous for its illusions, which you are immune to. Make sure he doesn¡¯t do something stupid like walk off a cliff thinking there¡¯s a bridge.¡± Holly nodded, ¡°I can do that.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 5 - The One Who Plucks The Strings When people left Seruatis it was usually with fanfare, possibly even a parade. Usually when people left Seruatis it was so they could die in a grand adventure but not this time. The two figures, one notably taller and broader than the other, and that was about all that could be made out in the darkness, vaulted the wall in silence and slipped into the forest. It was vitally important they weren¡¯t noticed, at least until morning. They made good time. Within an hour they¡¯d covered five miles, and if that seemed unimpressive to an observer it was because they¡¯d never had to try and run through a forest at night. Or they were a nigh-immortal being who could run at speeds that the human eye would interpret as little more than a blur. As the two stepped into a clearing they¡¯d find it already occupied. ¡°You weren¡¯t actually going to leave without saying goodbye were you?¡± The Eternal Swordsman asked, leaning casually against a tree trunk, a glowstone in his hand to cast azure light across the clearing to reveal his companion, a hooded woman sat amongst the roots of an elderly oak, who had apparently gotten quite far into a book, somehow reading in the pitch black. Alisha gave them both a quiet nod and got back to her reading. With a sigh the fleeing duo lowered their hoods, not that Agh¡¯zak¡¯s had done much to conceal his identity, even in Seruatis there were only so many people over seven foot tall, and at least half of those were dragons. The massive orc had his arms folded as he glared at the man. Saiko at least had the decency to look embarrassed under the stern gaze of his mentor. ¡°I left a note?¡± ¡°I know.¡± The great patriarch of Seruatis told him bemusedly, ¡°I watched you write it.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± The mercenary began an in-depth inspection of the ground at his feet. ¡°I trusted you.¡± The Swordsman continued, ¡°You have betrayed that trust. And I¡¯m surprised at you Agh¡¯zak.¡± ¡°What would you have had us do?¡± Agh¡¯zak Skullcrusher growled, ¡°I was offered salvation for my people and you expected me to just sit there and do nothing?¡± The warrior, tattooed to the point of being tat-toed, shook his head, ¡°Dear idiots, I expected you to ask for help!¡± ¡°Oh.¡± This time it was Agh¡¯zak¡¯s turn to study the dirt as righteous outrage was dragged into a dark alley and beaten insensate by shame. ¡°Dus is deeply hurt.¡± The Swordsman continued, ¡°She¡¯d wanted to say goodbye.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t she?¡± Saiko asked, still not making eye contact. He and the prickly gorgon had come to something of an accord of late now that she wasn¡¯t threatening to floss with his intestines. That was one of her friendlier threats, the others¡­ well he tried not to think about them too soon after eating. ¡°She can¡¯t leave Seruatis, too many enemies who would take the shot if she put so much as a finger past the wall. Same as those damn fool fossils who¡¯ve put this damn fool idea into your damned fool heads.¡± Well that at least confirmed that he knew the two of them had been talking to Pheus. In just a day the prophecy had swept through Seruatis and even a tornado couldn¡¯t have done more to upset the order of things. The biggest thing was the aetheric chains were now public knowledge and that had almost resulted in Seruatis¡¯ first ever lynchmob. Saiko wasn¡¯t thrilled at the idea of them either. As he was now given to understand the chains were a kind of uber-powerful divine enforcement for the laws that governed Reath, to prevent demon kings, fae queens and other gods from just destroying the world by changing the strength of gravity, making light move at half-speed, nice easy things like that. If those had been the only rules they enforced no one would have had an issue, it was the other rules¡­ Mortals must worship gods. Elves must live in forests. Dwarves must live underground. Little rules like that. The three divine beings that dwelled in Seruatis had come clean on the entire matter, even provided a list of the chains they were aware of and what they could remember about the defences that guarded them. It wasn¡¯t a complete list. It wasn¡¯t even a mostly complete list, Pheus, Nem and Jay were young gods and hadn¡¯t been there for the actual creation of Reath, but they were doing their best to inform the residents of Seruatis about chains that were actively affecting them, and keeping their lips tightly sealed about the locations and natures of the more structural chains. The chains were imperfect, people were just too broad a spectrum for any one rule to catch everyone, and they weren¡¯t ironclad enforcers, as Jay had described it to the baying mob they were little more than a gentle nudge to a person¡¯s thoughts. But a slight nudge done across an entire civilisation, every day of their lives, added up to not just a full on poke and prod but an effective shackle to an entire people. Some of the chains had been broken in the past, the necromancer¡¯s famed Lost Martyr had personally broken the one that forced people to worship gods, and then kicked off the god war for good measure to ensure it couldn¡¯t be rebuilt. Not that the necromancers remembered, all that remained of the Martyr was a vague sense that they had died fighting off a great evil that threatened the world. A few more had died during the God War. Necromancers shall be obsessed with immortality (Saiko wondered why they¡¯d even bothered to make that one given that thought was alive and well without it), goblins are a servitor species to orcs (he¡¯d never even heard of goblins) and ogres can¡¯t have magic (though ogre mages were still rare enough to venerated). In some ways those chains hadn¡¯t changed much, in more important ways they¡¯d changed everything. There was a vast difference between things being a way because people chose them to be and because they were forced to be. What they¡¯d told to Agh¡¯zak though¡­ it turned out there were no people so abused as orcs on the face of Reath, the list of rules forced into their heads was nearly endless. The great orc chef ¨C and former warlord ¨C had shared a couple of the highlights. Orcs do not formally study magic. Orcs live in tribes and look down on those who do not. When the orc tribes unite they do not found a nation but instead declare war on the nearest other society. Fun things like that which turned the greenskinned people from a somewhat gruff, fiercely athletic but jovial folk into a green tide that poured forth from their barren plains by the tens of thousands. Saiko was amazed that Agh¡¯zak had held his temper, the orc, who had the tattoo on his shoulder marking him as a berserker, who¡¯s ritual scars spoke to a double dozen duels to the death won, it seemed had the patience of a monk. Or at least that had been his impression until the undisputed lord of Seruatis¡¯ kitchens had shared his plan with him, whilst meticulously putting an edge on a cleaver large enough that Saiko doubted he¡¯d have been able to lift it let alone use it in battle. The former mercenary had been surprised to find himself integral to the plan, and even more surprised to find that he wanted to go. Despite his line of work he¡¯d never truly experienced wanderlust or a desire for adventure, no worthwhile cause had stolen his heart, nor beautiful maiden. All that had mattered was putting enough coin into his pouch to spend it the next day at the tavern, or the brothel. There¡¯d been pride in being one of the best at what he did, before discovering Seruatis Saiko would have sworn the number of people on the entire continent who could cross swords with him and live were few enough to count without needing all his fingers. But the idea of genuinely changing the world, or, his more cynical side pointed out, at least giving it the capacity for change was enthralling. To be able to say he¡¯d done something truly noble. Admittedly saying it undermined the nobility of it but it was a start. Agh¡¯zak had gotten the location of one of the chains from Pheus, as well as the manner of guard they¡¯d given it, but he needed Saiko to break it. The mercenary, wielder of one of the seven Spellbreaker blades, would be able to do in one swing of his beloved falchion what a thousand years of swinging away with Agh¡¯zak¡¯s oversized cleaver, the eponymous Skullcrusher, would ever achieve. It spoke well of Agh¡¯zak that just taking the blade had never once occurred to him. The plan to sneak out had been, not exactly spur of the moment, but the pair were popular enough that there had been a real risk of someone trying to stop them, Agh¡¯zak especially, the orc chef occupying a far higher position in Seruatis unofficial hierarchy than The Swordsman¡¯s own apprentice. A lot of what the older residents only half-derisively called ¡®the mortals¡¯ came to Seruatis just to live in peace for their final few years but Agh¡¯zak was young and there were already whispers that he should be quietly given some form of life extension, either alchemical rejuvenat or, at great expense, a healer from outside Seruatis brought in to turn back the clock. The plan to sneak out had also been a total failure it seemed, as had all the others, The Swordsman was on his tenth iteration of this conversation, seven groups had turned back, three had pressed on. The town¡¯s guardian would be having words with Pheus and his brothers in the morning, the kind that the rest of the town, and possibly the next town over if he really lost his temper, would be able to hear. The Swordsman¡¯s arms were folded as he stared down the two until he let his gaze settle on Saiko, ¡°I can understand why Agh¡¯zak would go, but you I don¡¯t get. You¡¯re throwing away everything you wanted, why?¡± ¡°It seemed like a good idea. I like Agh¡¯zak, I¡¯d rather he came back alive, and there¡¯s more chance of that if I¡¯m there. Besides he needs a way to break the chain.¡± Agh¡¯zak¡¯s frown deepened as his heavy brow furrowed in thought, ¡°You knew. You knew about the chains this entire time and you never told us.¡± ¡°Yes, I knew¡­ and yes I kept it from you.¡± The Swordsman admitted, though he didn¡¯t sound so much ashamed as just regretful. ¡°Why?¡± The chef asked, his hand moving to Skullcrusher¡¯s long hilt. He didn¡¯t have a prayer of winning the fight, right now he wasn¡¯t sure he gave a damn. ¡°Because the chains are dangerous. Yes a lot of them are heinous, most of them from what I¡¯ve been told but the ones that aren¡¯t are vital. If they ever became common knowledge all it would take to doom this entire world is one idiot with more power than sense. And that¡¯s ignoring how many good friends are going to die in this quest, they aren¡¯t lightly guarded, Immortals have fallen attempting to break one. Which brings me to an important question. Which chain did they send you after?¡± ¡°The orc lands are barren.¡± Agh¡¯zak growled, ¡°It¡¯s why no amount of magic has ever gotten more than an acceptable harvest for my people. Why every land we take turns to a dustbowl in time.¡± Saiko looked askance at that little titbit, Agh¡¯zak had been tight-lipped about which chain they were going for, wanting to get enough distance that they wouldn¡¯t fear eavesdropping. Of all the chains he¡¯d heard of thus far that might well be the most sinister in its implications. ¡°It¡¯s doable.¡± The Swordsman told them, ¡°It¡¯s one of the few chains that anyone could break.¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you?¡± And there was the rage, kept on a tight leash but struggling for freedom all the same. ¡°The guardian is a Questing Beast, and a strong one.¡± He paused for a moment, hoping for some sort of recognition but pressed on when he found none, ¡°They¡­ match their opponent. However powerful the person who faces it, be it in magic, cunning or skill at arms, the Questing Beast will provide a worthy foe, in this case a nigh-impossible one.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a shapeshifter?¡± Saiko asked, a shiver running down his back, he¡¯d seen battleshifting just once in his life and the memories were unpleasant, of a being that would heal in moments, who would just warp their flesh around a foe and suffocate them by oozing into their lungs. And that was just battleshifting, from what he¡¯d heard warshifters were even worse. ¡°Of a sort. Very limited, very specialized. I¡¯ll give you what advice I can.¡± The Swordsman told them. ¡°Don¡¯t try and sneak up on it, it will know you¡¯re there because your presence forces it to shift. It¡¯s intelligent so most traps won¡¯t work. And don¡¯t use any magic unless you¡¯re prepared for it to respond in kind. Finally, don¡¯t try to attack it two on one. It will have both your strengths, it won¡¯t have both your weaknesses, if one of you falls then wait for them to expire then step in. Try not to fall.¡± The retired warlord nodded, still scowling, ¡°Thank you. I¡¯m not sure I will return, the thought of living in the same place as those monsters repulses me.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be back. For starters they know where the rest of the chains are, or at least most of them, and I doubt you¡¯ll stop at just one.¡± Agh¡¯zak didn¡¯t have a reply to that, just bowing his head and moving to exit the clearing, letting Saiko get his own goodbyes out of the way. The mercenary stared at his mentor in silence for a handful of uncomfortable seconds, ¡°I¡¯ll bring him back alive. One way or the other.¡± ¡°No. Just one way, he¡¯s not the only one who¡¯ll be missed. Be safe Sai, Dus wanted you to know she¡¯s proud of the choice you¡¯ve made for what that¡¯s worth.¡± ¡°Like I need that snakey harridan¡¯s approval.¡± he growled, ¡°¡­I mean tell her thanks.¡± That was that. The two headed into the forest and it was only once they¡¯d been swallowed by the trees that Alisha closed her book and crossed to the immortal warrior who, in this moment, was clearly carrying the weight of his ten thousand years. ¡°A hard thing, letting them go.¡± ¡°I thought I handled it well.¡± The Swordsman replied, ¡°Thank you for the help.¡± ¡°They¡¯re my friends too.¡± The raven haired woman replied, staring at the gap in the trees where the two had last been visible. There was more that wasn¡¯t being said there, like the fact they were her only friends, far too many had feigned friendship to get access to her strange powers but Saiko¡­ well the mercenary had never figured her out, and she was starting to suspect he never would. Agh¡¯zak was an even weirder one, he hated her power, and had flat out banned her from his kitchen when he was cooking, but he didn¡¯t hate her and if there was one thing the orc loved as much as cooking it was a good natter and gossip. ¡°They¡¯re going to die.¡± The Swordsman observed, the words lighter than their content. ¡°They could get lucky¡­¡± She countered, the words more an expression of hope than belief. He rubbed at his eyes, magical tattooes dancing to get out of the way of his fingers, ¡°They¡¯re going to need a lot more than luck to slay a Questing Beast. They¡¯ll need to be brilliant.¡± ¡°¡­damn you.¡± She hissed, lips peeled back in a hate-filled snarl, ¡°I will not be used like some tool! You can¡¯t just lean on me every time you have a problem you don¡¯t want to be seen to solve!¡± ¡°If that¡¯s how you see it-¡° ¡°No. You don¡¯t get to equivocate your way out of it this time. I¡¯m done. Tell Dus I¡¯ll miss her, but the rest of you can go fornicate with a porcupine for all I care.¡± ¡°Where will you go?¡± He asked, not surprised, this moment had building for a very long time. ¡°After those two idiots, they¡¯ll need to be brilliant to kill a Questing Beast.¡± She declared, more bite in her voice than a crocodile and radish salad. There were no more words said, two young fools headed out on an adventure, and the last muse followed after them. * The bard watched it all with distaste, what a waste of good talent, but they didn¡¯t strike, didn¡¯t inflict upon the mercenary the many sufferings they wished to, didn¡¯t put foes in their path they would struggle to beat, didn¡¯t take this opportunity to try and kidnap Alisha. A muse would have been invaluable to their work, especially now when their main scrying orb was blank. Still they stayed unsure whether tilting the fate of those who sought a Questing Beast would count as challenging the creature itself. Reluctantly they tore their gaze away from the scrying mirror, covering it with a blanket lest it be used to watch them in turn. The main orb in their hidden laboratory remained infuriatingly blank. It was one of the weaknesses of bardic magic, information was the key. Without knowing where the target was and what they were doing all they could do was send general misfortune their way and that was little better than prayer when trying to kill someone like Erebus. The idea that a mage of that calibre could be taken out through food poisoning, a fall from a horse or a bar fight gone wrong was simply laughable. The tracker Janiah had been meant to unwittingly plant had never reached its target. That had been manageable at least, they¡¯d gotten lucky (as they so often did) and had been watching the orb at the moment of teleport. Quick thinking and the expenditure of a small fortune in condensed mana to keep the connection between spaces open a few vital seconds had allowed them to follow the first teleport and they¡¯d been ready for the second one, scrying was a lot less mana intensive than teleporting, the only real source of difficulty had been tracking the spell from a distance, but they¡¯d had practice. Again they¡¯d tried to press some bad decisions upon the group, force them to go early with the spell only partially charged. That would have been fantastic, and it had nearly worked, though they would never know if the timing of Alice¡¯s arrival had been their work or just Alice moving a little slowly in the snow where time had taken its toll. That was one of the problems of being a bard. Without some truly incredible groundwork it was almost impossible to know for sure that a decision taken under pressure had gone your way because you¡¯d set it up or just that it would always have gone that way. Either way it had so very nearly worked, a partially charged teleport spell, triggered in panic, would have likely left several pieces of its targets behind, or, Sato being very good at what he did, an entire person. But an ally left behind was still a win. Alas, Sato, being very good at what he did, the best had not come to pass. Literal foresight letting him grab the excess mana in the air from the conflicting spells to force it up to full charge, doubtless along with the entirety of his magicka. Still they¡¯d been prepared for the teleport and followed it successfully with their scrying orb. There¡¯d been few opportunities to tilt the dice since then, they¡¯d tried to stir up some emotion, maybe inject a little anger, but Second Response battlemages were notoriously even-tempered. The information had been useful, they certainly hadn¡¯t seen the demoness coming, and finding Susan was alive¡­ well that had been a bittersweet revelation. Sweet to know she was alive, and bitter because they would likely have to kill her¡­ whatever she now was. That could be a problem, unknown variables were notoriously hard to manipulate. They would just have to trust Susan¡¯s personality had changed little since last they¡¯d met. Arcadia was¡­ well frankly it was the obvious play, because it worked. From the moment that they¡¯d stepped through the portal the scrying spell had been shredded and even the narrative spells upon the group had fallen apart ¨C Avalon had its own intrinsic narrative magic and it did not play well with others. That was a problem, even knowing they were headed for a death zone wasn¡¯t a huge help, there were two hundred such zones just on Contenmere, and a manual search was not an option, some of them couldn¡¯t even be scried safely. The bard sighed deeply as they shut down the last of their equipment, placing a wand to their temple to extract the memories of the past day¡¯s work (and all days like it) and placing them in the vessel by the door as they left a literally different person, memories to be bestowed upon them when they accidentally stumbled across their own lab once more. The last of those memories was one of small solace, for all their failures they had at least gotten one of them to carry iron into Avalon. * There was one final conspiracy of note that night. Deep in the very heart of Forest Von Mori, deeper than even trusted allies like The Swordsman had ever been permitted to see, down beneath the earth where terrible things had once dwelled, was a tree. To call it a tree did not do it justice, it was a tree of a previous epoch, whatever species it had been was irrelevant by this point, so saturated in power was it. It towered towards a sky it could never reach deep in its cave. It¡¯s bark blacker than midnight, its leaves white as porcelain. Its roots had broken through rock and metal with the implacable strength of arbour unbound by man¡¯s restraining hand. Its trunk so thick you could have built a manor within it, somewhat appropriately given this was the home of Von Mori and the key to her unique powers for where the roots met the cracked earth was the dull glint of nullstone. A vein so rich and pure that a paladin armourer would have wept at the sight. One of dozens. Null did not play nice with living things, having to live in null-rich soil should have stunted the growth of any tree, and it had. If such a tree had had a dryad every day would be an interminable agony, and it had. To live there would require the dryad to have a sheer determination to live unrivalled by gods and monsters. And it had. The elder dryads of the forest had been forced to relocate their trees many miles, toiling endlessly since Von Mori¡¯s capture to arrange this meeting at the feet of their great mother. A few hadn¡¯t been able to make it, Oak the Elder, Oak the Guardian and Yew the Younger had left their votes with trusted proxies. They¡¯d hated to miss this, the second meeting of elder dryads in living memory, and trees had long memories, but for all that the great guardian of the forest was absent her oaths were not. A few simply manifested at the base of the tree, pointless shows of power in the null-heavy air that made the one dryad who never left scoff. The wiser amongst them walked, through the channels deep beneath the earth that only recently a foolish necromancer had nearly stumbled across as he sought a different relic of a bygone age. If he had found them he would perhaps have been permitted to gaze upon the tree for just a moment before he was killed, a sign of rare favour indeed. Twisted Hawthorn sat at the base of the tree, a gangly, wispy young woman in appearance, like all dryads her skin hued the same as her bark. The dryad surveying the gathered tree spirits with eyes that did not see light. For a forest of Von Mori¡¯s size and age their number was few, a mere ten, but there were reasons for that. One of them lay behind the tree, one of only two votes that did not belong to a dryad, a massive scaly and bewinged form that was so still it might as well have been dead, and perhaps was. Noone had ever been brave enough to ask. The other reason stood at attention besides her, the enchantments on their armour, those few that still worked, was the only source of light in the cave and just a glimmer of it at that. Just enough to reveal the hideous visage of its owner. Captain Johannes Valherion, leader of the Forestguard and a former officer of the Holy Paladin Order, had not been a handsome man in life but death had done him even fewer favours, especially under Von Mori¡¯s personal care. A branch of twisted thorns spouted out of one eye¡¯s socket, wrapping viciously around his skull to rise in a parody of a crown. Things bulged beneath his arms, one of which ended in a lumpy and misshapen hand that was more a Morningstar made of meat, a spiked mace of pine needles that could shatter shields. He had been missing a leg just above the knee when he¡¯d died, Von Mori had replaced it with living wood, though she¡¯d put the knee the wrong way round, and twisted the other leg for good measure. All her forestguard were like that, hideous parodies of men, meant to show the fate of those beings of flesh who dared trespass upon her forest. ¡°The hour of midnight is passed.¡± Twisted Hawthorn declared at last, ¡°All are here who shall be here. My sisters let us speak of vengeance.¡± ¡°I council it as unwise,¡± Oak the Younger said, younger in this case being a mere five thousand years, ¡°Reprisal may be met with reprisal. Our mother¡¯s life is too precious to risk. Yew the Younger stands with me on this.¡± ¡°Predictable.¡± Yew the Elder spat, the caustic spittle sizzling as it ate away at the rock beneath. ¡°I say we marshal the Forestguard and rouse the elder one from his slumber. Let them remember why they fear us, they will hand our mother over in the face of annihilation.¡± That got a fair few nods of support, though those vanished swiftly as an aura swept through the cavern, carrying the flavours of the absence of life and overwhelming territorial aggression. ¡°We know where this leads.¡± Pine whispered gently, the dryad¡¯s voice was always quiet and not by choice, the terrible wounds on her body had never properly healed and the one across her throat wept antiseptic sap as she spoke. There were no pines in Forest Von Mori, not anymore. Seeing she had the floor the northern elder continued, ¡°Sap begets sap. Send an emissary. The paladin hid that our mother yet lived from us, if not for Yew the Younger and the fleshbags in Seruatis we may never have known. The necromancer who fled him has been charged with our mother¡¯s murder, we can greatly disrupt things and not even raise a hand in violence.¡± There was a small irony there, Yew the Younger¡¯s political capital had never been so high in her absence, her decision to home herself close to Seruatis finally vindicating itself several times over as a downright gushing pipeline of gossip and rumour poured into the forest. ¡°There¡¯s an angle none of you are seeing.¡± Twisted giggled, ¡°They don¡¯t know we know she¡¯s alive. I say we rage, we rage and despair and destroy. Let us avenge her death with a fury not seen since the gods fell from the sky. Send an emissary, foul their rules, their order, their precious systems.¡± ¡°Why would we-?¡± Ash began. ¡°Because no one rescues the dead. It is a pity little Yew couldn¡¯t be here, reach out to where the dwindling gods dwell, tell them we have need of heroes to save a fair maiden.¡± Light dawned on confused faces. ¡°Captain if we were to engage in full scale war on the Holy Paladin Order what would you recommend?¡± Yew the Elder asked, sweet as any berry from her tree and just as deadly. ¡°That you don¡¯t.¡± The former paladin declared before continuing hastily, ¡°Declare war on the Council of Mages as well, they¡¯ll apply political pressure on the Paladin Order, but make it very clear that the old pacts have been broken, and that we didn¡¯t break them. I recommend an emissary to them as well.¡± ¡°I thank you for your council.¡± Twisted replied, turning at least to the scaly behemoth behind them, ¡°And you ancient one? Will you fulfil your oath and fight alongside us?¡± There was a far too long pause as a sightless, ruined eye opened to focus on the dryads all the same. ¡°No.¡± ¡°You swore-¡° ¡°The tree lives. I protect the tree.¡± The words shook the cavern. The eye closed. ¡°I believe the plan is at the point where we need to vote. All in favour?¡± The vote carried. Oathkeeper - Chapter 6 - Avalon They¡¯d been walking in Avalon for close to an hour before they finally found a path. The difference was night and day, not in the difficulty of the walk, the grassy plains of Avalon were astonishingly level and smooth, containing none of the traps and dangers a field would normally present to the human ankle, but just in the demeanour of Alice and Erebus, the tension almost visibly pouring out of them. ¡°The plan is we head into Arcadia, there¡¯s a dusty antiques shop in one of the side alleys, or at least there was last I was here, it opens almost right next to the death zone I plan on breaking into.¡± Erebus explained, a little freer with the information now there was no danger of magical eavesdropping. Well that wasn¡¯t quite true, the fae themselves could eavesdrop but it was very unlikely they¡¯d take that big an interest unless the group did something to draw attention to themselves. Holly looked both ways on the trail, ¡°So how far away is it?¡± ¡°Just an adventure away.¡± Alice laughed, still all but skipping, and, much to Erebus¡¯ visible disapproval dancing on and off the path as she pleased, which apparently only made her want to do it more. ¡°Okay but how far?¡± The dryad pressed, the sterile wonder of Avalon had long faded by this point, though it seemed she was the only one, at least of those who¡¯d experienced any at all. Natalya and Erebus had maintained the expression of a bulldog chewing a wasp from the moment they¡¯d entered and they didn¡¯t seem liable to cheer up any time soon. ¡°What Alice said.¡± The younger necromancer grumbled, ¡°An adventure away, Avalon doesn¡¯t really operate on things like distance and time.¡± ¡°What?¡± The tree-spirit blurted, ¡°How does anyone plan anything?¡± ¡°Very inefficiently.¡± Natalya observed dryly, to a nod from her fellow necromancer. ¡°Now best foot forwards everyone, the trail only keeps us safe from getting lost and separated.¡± Erebus declared, ¡°And if you see anything¡­ interesting, tell someone immediately.¡± The trail was a long one, the flowing plains giving way to fields of daisies that just begged to be lay down in, rainbows of chrysanthemum that shifted like a kaleidoscope (Holly had had to pull Alec back onto the trail for that one and there had been a rather worrying moment where Sato had moved to step off the path before catching himself). ¡°Hypnotism paired with glamour.¡± Erebus confided softly to Holly after they¡¯d passed them, ¡°A nasty combination. You¡¯d be surprised how common it is on Reath as well.¡± Next had come a dark forest, the fallen leaves a myriad of reds, browns and oranges, so deep and slippery that it was easier to wade through the ankle deep leaflitter than step, whilst the bereft trees towered above them with branches like claws and shadows so dark they were like holes in the world. The path had been all but invisible and the going slow as Natalya and Sato had cooked up a spell between them to blow the leaves from it as the others stood overwatch in case something particularly gribbly objected. It occurred to Holly at that point that they¡¯d been in Avalon too long, the sun should have set, they should have been exhausted from the travel and yet she could feel no tiredness from her bond, nor the pangs of hunger. Even sleep it seemed was negotiable in the land of the Fae. She waited and watched as the path slowly revealed itself, their pace barely a crawl as she overheard Erebus talking quietly to Alice, the two taking the rear. ¡°We¡¯re in the teeth of it.¡± The necromancer said softly. ¡°I don¡¯t like it, something should have come for us by now. The fae are being kept away and someone wants us off the path.¡± Alice frowned, ¡°It could be benevolent. There¡¯s no reason to say it wishes to kill us.¡± Her answer sweet and melodic, ¡°You forget my friend that not all gifts of glamour mean ill.¡± ¡°You sure, the others maybe, but the Queen of Summer named me Faebane after the Battle of Alastriel.¡± The shapeshifter snorted with laughter, ¡°She did take it rather badly didn¡¯t she. Still now is the time of Autumn in Avalon.¡± She gestured at the leaves, ¡°I think you worry overmuch.¡± ¡°What about you Holly? Feel anything interesting from the forest?¡± Erebus asking their eavesdropper directly. The dryad¡¯s cheeks coloured a rosy green at being caught but she took the question seriously, extending her senses into the surrounding plants before pulling back sharply with a gasp, ¡°We¡¯re being watched. Definitely.¡± ¡°Could you tell their intention?¡± The necromancer pressed gently. ¡°No. But they wanted me out of the trees.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± It was a solid hmmm, load bearing even but Erebus refused to elaborate further and Holly left them to their bickering, seeking out her human just in case he decided to do something foolish. Alec was staring out at the forest and trying not to shiver in apprehension, he was sure he could see things moving in the gloom and twitching at each crack of twigs out in the darkness. ¡°You¡¯re just seeing what they want you to see.¡± Holly told him with the bluntness of a hammer to the forehead, comparing their shared senses and getting entirely different results. ¡°Or you are.¡± He muttered, eyes not leaving the forest for even a moment. ¡°I can¡¯t, according to Erebus at least, Von Mori made a deal with the Fae that lets dryads go unmolested.¡± She explained, eyes tracking alongside his own gaze and finding nothing. ¡°So it¡¯s just me.¡± He sighed, rubbing at his eyes at least and finding them from tears where he¡¯d been holding them unblinking too long. ¡°Not just you. The mages seem a little twitchy as well.¡± She indicated where Amara¡¯s clenching and unclenching claws were almost digging a hole in the dirt and a close examination of Sato¡¯s far too many eyes would show they were flicking from spot to spot independent of each other. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think leaving Seruatis was a mistake.¡± The teenager admitted after a few moments. Holly¡¯s laugh was not a kind one, ¡°It¡¯s a bit late to be concluding that now.¡± ¡°You agreed with me!¡± He protested, the sudden volume managing to startle both mages on overwatch, the leafblower team, a surprising number of birds who Holly¡¯s gaze confirmed were not in fact real and Alec himself, ¡°You agreed with me.¡± He continued more quietly. ¡°And I still do,¡± She promised, ¡°you were right. If we didn¡¯t seize this chance to leave we might well have been stuck in Seruatis for the rest of our lives. What¡¯s got you having doubts?¡± ¡°Them.¡± He pointed to the mages at work, ¡°We¡¯re so outmatched by everyone around us it¡¯s not even funny, and they¡¯re scared and either not trying to hide it or doing a terrible job of it. So if they¡¯re scared what chance do we have?¡± Holly stroked her lips as she gave that the thought it deserved, ¡°It¡¯s a good point. We¡¯re almost useless here. Just dead weight.¡± She gave him a smile as she took his hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze, ¡°But we won¡¯t always be. I look at them and I don¡¯t feel insignificant, I feel safe. Von Mori always protected her people, but she also gave them the chance to grow. One day we¡¯ll be them, and someone else will be us. It¡¯s a cycle.¡± Alec managed to force a smile, ¡°When did you get wise?¡± ¡°You realize that everyone¡¯s allowed to use the library right? And not all of us spend their time there reading about history.¡± Holly quipped, glad to just get some of the tension out of him. She¡¯d likely never tell him but tension was probably one of the least pleasant sensations to feel across the bond. Pain and other horrors could be guarded against, filtered even, but tension had a habit of creeping up unnoticed until she was wound tighter than a spring with no idea why. ¡°Yeah yeah.¡± He punched her lightly in the arm, ¡°You know a dryad could probably do a good job of moving those leaves¡­¡± She nodded, ¡°Eat something, I don¡¯t know how much I¡¯ll have to pull from you.¡± It turned out that she could indeed move the leaves and with a lot more precision that the airblower spells Sato and Natalya had been using, though Alec was drenched in sweat after no more than ten minutes and he¡¯d turned down another magicka infusion from Nat without any hesitation. Still she¡¯d probably saved them a fair bit of time and it hadn¡¯t gone unnoticed. By the time they finally got out of the forest the sun was beginning to set. A small paranoid whisper in Holly¡¯s ear told her that it wouldn¡¯t have mattered how long they¡¯d taken in the forest, this would always have been the case. ¡°Do we press on?¡± Alice asked her fellow veteran of Avalon. ¡°No way in all the hells. I¡¯d rather swim in alchemical waste than walk through Avalon at night.¡± Erebus declared emphatically, ¡°We find somewhere with decent sightlines and set up camp. Anyone needs to heed a call of nature, you do it in the camp. I don¡¯t care how embarrassed you are. Amara will take watch. The other watcher will be me, followed by Alice, followed by Lana. Repeat until the night is done¡­ if it lasts too long then we¡¯ll have to talk about travel.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t I get a say in this?¡± Amara hissed, not thrilled at being given marching orders, that and the flames still crackling along her back were making her testy, the noise a constant irritation by this point. ¡°You¡¯re the only one who doesn¡¯t require sleep, you have superior night vision to everyone except maybe Lana and given you¡¯ve been meditating for literal years you¡¯ve got credentials in regards to maintaining concentration.¡± The necromancer explained, not a hint nor whisper of apology in his words. The vampire growled something that was probably an acquiescence as they continued down the path, the forest having given way to a canyon of some form. It was an impossible piece of geography, there had been no descent and yet now immense walls of rough hewn stone blocked them in on each side. ¡°What would happen if we climbed them?¡± Natalya asked, staring up at the sheer cliff-faces. ¡°We¡¯d likely end up somewhere¡­ weird.¡± Erebus non-explained, eyes flicking from path to cliff and back to path every few seconds. He did not want to spend the night in what was essentially a cage but moving at night was worse, his only real hope was that they¡¯d get one last change in scenery before the sun finished setting. It was a forlorn hope, whatever byzantine forces decided what passed for geography in Avalon they had a sense for not just the dramatic but the melodramatic and there were few places better for a night ambush than a canyon. It wasn¡¯t like they could be missed either with Amara acting as a living beacon, still he could at least look on the bright side, maybe after something finally had the courage to jump them he¡¯d lose the prickling itch on the back of his neck. Up the cliff was quite possibly a good option, they¡¯d have to help Holly and Alec but most of them could ascend the rock like they were going for a jog. Fae often made their homes on the edges of Avalon¡¯s environs, far enough that trouble had to come looking for them but close enough they could get to the path in a hurry, and the fae that made such homes were often those outcast from the intricate dance of Arcadian politics. There were problems with it though, that could mean stumbling upon a kindly brownie who¡¯d give them shelter for the night or a hag or red cap so wretched that they¡¯d been thrown out of the Winter Court. Better not to take the risk. Despite walking for, by Erebus¡¯ count, several more hours, the canyon showed no signs of ending, though it did show signs of life, or rather its cessation, a few desiccated bodies that had likely been there years along with a shattered wagon and scattered bones in the final stages of being reclaimed by the earth. They eventually settle for camping at the base of one of the walls, a large boulder providing a convenient windbreak. The boulder troubled all of them, pretty much everyone keeping an eye on the sky and Sato keeping several, but in the darkening gloom it was likely the first they¡¯d know of an aerial bombardment would be when it hit. It was to comforting thoughts such as these that they went to sleep, there was no campfire, no wood to make one, and Amara had drawn the line at being used to cook on or huddled for warmth. Alec wound up using his pack as a pillow as he laid upon his bedroll, Holly laid next to them. For them at least sleep came easily, deliberately allowing their drowsiness to feedback on one another, it was less than a minute before they passed into the realm of dreams. Or they would have if Avalon had one, though Pheus had tried for aeons he¡¯d never managed to establish a dominion here and the sleep was a dreamless one. ¡°So want to tell me why we¡¯re dragging a pair of kids around?¡± Alice asked dryly once she was sure the two were insensate, the warshifter hadn¡¯t bother with a bedroll, just laying herself down next to where Erebus was keeping watching, eyes closed and expression peaceful. ¡°Not especially.¡± The necromancer replied, slowly traversing his gaze from one end of the canyon to the other then back again, careful not to focus on one spot too long. He was faced away from Amara so as not to ruin his night vision. He could have enhanced it with magic such that night would appear as day but he¡¯d ruled the risks too high. Avalon had more than its fair share of thaumavores, the rather aged term for magic eaters, and he didn¡¯t want to risk their attention more than they were already. Whatever fire Amara was giving off wasn¡¯t a spell, he¡¯d checked, so unless someone did something stupid they¡¯d likely avoid that sort of attention. ¡°Tell me anyway.¡± She insisted. Erebus gave her a gimlet glare, it was hard to ignore the threat inherent in that order, and if they were to throw down Alice was the one person in the group he wasn¡¯t sure he could kill if he had to. Not as a matter of sentiment, sentiment had been carved out of him in the hells, but merely as a matter of firepower. ¡°He chose to come.¡± ¡°Uh huh. Is he yours?¡± The question was casual, too casual, a thief in the night trying to slip past an attentive guard. ¡°Why do people keep asking me that?¡± Erebus complained to no one, ¡°No he¡¯s not mine.¡± ¡°That soul-bond. Nasty thing to do to a youngster. Two youngsters.¡± Alice continued, apparently intent on saying her piece no matter how hard the necromancer tried to shut the conversation down. ¡°Was there a question there?¡± Erebus asked waspishly, ironic given how much Alice¡¯s observation stung. It was a cruel thing he¡¯d done, he just hadn¡¯t seen any other options at the time. ¡°You know the question.¡± ¡°I was foolish. Worse I was foolish while thinking myself clever.¡± He began, aware that pretty much everyone awake was listening in by this point, except maybe Natalya, it was hard to tell with her. ¡°I was¡­ well taking a holiday isn¡¯t the right term, but engaging in some work that wasn¡¯t smashing in doors and teeth.¡± Erebus paused to get a bit more comfortable against his boulder, ¡°I figured who would ever look for a necromancer in one of the most hostile to magic environments on Reath. And it worked, for a loooooong time it worked. Problem is what do you do when someone does find you? Respite got slaughtered and all I could do was hide and watch, it never even occurred to me that Lutan would harm the townsfolk.¡± ¡°You were taught better than that.¡± Lana told him coldly, only to be shushed by three voices at once. ¡°I was. Apparently there¡¯s no cure for naivety. Either way the town was dead, I was on the run and had the only survivor to look after for good measure. I know not all of you have travelled through Von Mori so take it from me, it¡¯s hard to cast worth a damn when there¡¯s so much null in the soil. So I asked for help from the forest, and to my eternal surprise Von Mori herself answered.¡± He took a few moments to enjoy the shock on the gathered faces, well except Lana¡¯s, though whether the demon didn¡¯t have the frame of reference for it or just was that blas¨¦ in the face of overwhelming magical power he couldn¡¯t tell. Given who she¡¯d served it could well be either. ¡°Anyway, I was more than a little lost by that point, and with that much magical suppression even a compass spell would have drained me, so I asked Von Mori for a guide and she agreed to give me one. Holly was the only volunteer.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t explain how she got soulspliced onto a teenager.¡± Alice pressed relentlessly, determined to worry this bone to death. ¡°Because I thought she deserved better than being dragged from one warzone to the next until I finally don¡¯t walk away from one.¡± Erebus snarled, surprising even himself with the heat of it. It took a long, long time before Alice spoke again, ¡°Have you ever wondered if maybe you deserve better as well?¡± ¡°Everyone deserves better.¡± He replied with the world-weariness of ages, ¡°But someone has to do it. I mean that¡¯s why we do it isn¡¯t it? To spare others these horrors, help folks when we can, avenge them when we can¡¯t.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t recall vengeance being anywhere in the job description.¡± Alice noted mildly, opening one eye to take in her friend¡¯s description. ¡°Maybe it should be.¡± The necromancer growled. ¡°You¡¯re sounding an awful lot like the people we get paid to stop right now.¡± Erebus folded his arms, staring her down, ¡°You planning on stopping me Al?¡± The shapeshifter thought about it, ¡°Not yet. Keep talking like that and we¡¯ll see.¡± The necromancer sighed, ¡°So it¡¯s like that, you¡¯re not here just as a friend.¡± The anger melting away as that interminable weariness took its place once more. Alice matched it as she answered, ¡°It¡¯s because I¡¯m your friend that I¡¯m prepared to stop you if you go too far. The man I was friends with would want me to.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need stopping Al.¡± He assured her, going back to scanning the canyon for threats. ¡°Then what do you need?¡± She asked, closing her eyes again. ¡°Targets.¡± * The ambush when it came was sudden, vicious and all but silent. It was Lana¡¯s turn on watch and to her credit she was quick to notice, managing to intercept the three foot tall spider mid leap as it tried to bite down on her head. She¡¯d been permitted to keep her blade, to the annoyance of the others demons used no iron in their weapons, and a single slashparted the giant creature into two clean halves, the sword drawn so fast it was almost teleportation. ¡°Arach in the camp!¡± The demoness¡¯ voice rang clean and clear through the night air, a current of magic running through it like a dose of adrenaline to those who heard it. The others were almost as quick to react. Amara turning to let loose with a gout of flame that burned a hole in another jumper that was on a collision course with the demoness¡¯ armoured back before turning her attention to the source; the canyon walls. The vampire sent up a ball of flame to illuminate the area properly only to finding the walls teeming with descending arach. The giant spiders, originally native to Reath, had stumbled upon a portal to Avalon over a century ago and prospered within. One of the spiders leapt upon the ball, dying horribly as the compressed fire burst, spattering all below with sizzling spider-blood, but killing the light in the process. Now that could be concerning. Arach had originally been more or less mindless, and hopefully that was what that was, just an animal mindlessly leaping at something it thought it could eat. The alternative was that Avalon had, either magically or through selection pressure, produced a more intelligent and cooperative version. The vampire and demon weren¡¯t the only ones to react quickly. Erebus had stood almost immediately, creating a storm of stones that were outright shredding any spider that tried to get near him as he began sweeping flame back and forth across one of the canyon walls, flames hot enough that the giant arachnids were popping as they came in contact. Amara saw what he was doing and began hosing down the other wall with cerulean fire. Alice had flicked herself to her feet within the first second of being woken but was finding herself something of a loose end, with just one warshift left in her this just wasn¡¯t worth her time, the great juggernaut reduced to just punching those spiders that got in range, which was a lot of them, the chitinous horrors taking her lack of weapons or magic as a sign of weakness. Spiders of all sizes crawled over her, biting again and again as they tried to bring her down. They might as well have been biting a fortress, shapeshifters were notoriously resistant to venom. A manticore or basilisk might gotten somewhere, arach on the other hand¡­ they¡¯d be biting for a while. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Natalya had put up a spellshield as the alarm went out, a half dome anchored to the ground that the spiders couldn¡¯t force through, though that hadn¡¯t stopped them from trying. Taking stock of her surroundings she turned the shield permeable to spells and hit one of the spiders with a bright green burst of necrotic energy. The beast shuddered once but kept moving¡­ only to begin biting down on one of its fellow spiders, who in turn began attacking its fellows. Sato was a whirl of action, the precog seeming to almost dance through the insane melee as more and more spiders descended, surviving by the simple expedient of never being in the way of a jump or bite. He too was struggling for firepower, alchemical weapons were expensive and he was loathe to waste them on the arach when his colleagues appeared to have things well in hand. It was almost creepy how quiet the battle was, just the roar of fire and sounds of impact, the spiders made no sound and the mages were fighting in silence, knowing their roles without having to be told. Holly and Alec were not so fortunate, or rather Alec wasn¡¯t. The dryad was being ignored by the beasts, apparently able to tell they wouldn¡¯t be able to eat her, Alec however had attracted the attention of a particularly large specimen, taller than he was with eyes the size of his fist, which had him pinned against the rockface as the teenager literally held its fangs inches from his face, dandelion yellow venom dripping onto his clothing as he tried to kick the spider off of him. So far all he was getting were bruised feet while Holly was trying to drag it off by the hind legs. There were no plants here to manipulate and she did not dare try and perform a more formal spell. Taking that much from Alec in this moment would probably be the death of them both. Giving up on moving the massive monster Holly looked for help but came up blank. Amara and Erebus were too busy keeping the majority from safely descending the canyon walls. Lana was struggling to keep the swarm from dragging her to the floor, blade a blur as the stone beneath her became slippery with green ichor. Natalya was trapped in a cage of her own making as she waited out the battle. Sato was simply too far away to be of help and the heaving ball of spiders slowly inching its way across the battlefield was presumably Alice. There was no one coming to help. Holly¡¯s gaze swept across the camp only to flick back to where they¡¯d been sleeping, and the hope laid right next to it. ¡°Just hold on.¡± She yelled at Alec, the teenager giving her a look of pure disbelief, ¡°What does it look like I¡¯m doing!?¡± He snapped back, arms visibly shaking from the effort as the fangs inched inexorably closer. The dryad broke into a run, ducking under a truly huge arach that was lumbering towards Natalya, apparently intent on crushing the shield with sheer mass, and crushing some of the smaller ones beneath her as she slid to a halt by Alec¡¯s pack. Her fingers fumbled in their haste with the catch to the main pocket, plunging an arm in only to hiss in pain as it struck the bottom, the dryad practically flinging it across the canyon before reaching once more for her true target. After that it was a mad dash back over to Alec, nearly getting hipchecked by something with no hips as more massive spiders entered the fray. Triumphantly she brandished the spatha before stabbing it deep into the monster¡¯s abdomen. The spider thrashed, fangs surging forwards to miss Alec by a hair as he lurched sideways, scrabbling out of the way as Holly went for a second thrust, and then a third, not stopping until the oversized bug had stopped twitching. Slowly Alec got back to his feet, surveying the battle as he moved to hide behind his fallen foe, aware that not being noticed was his best bet at this point. Wordlessly Holly handed him his blade, the teen wiping the viscous green goo from the scabbard. Wisely she hadn¡¯t drawn it, desperation giving her the strength to force the scabbard through the thick carapace. ¡°That was¡­ we just¡­ you¡­¡± he gasped out, settling on a final, ¡°thank you.¡± Holly accepted it wordlessly, content to just watch as the fight finally drew to a close as dawn broke, the surviving spiders scuttling off to hide in whatever caves and caverns they¡¯d found inside the canyon wall. The floor of the camp was sodden with ichor, a fact that thoroughly displeased Alice who had been webbed to the valley floor and was all but drowning in it by the end of the fight. ¡°Well there¡¯s your ambush.¡± Natalya laughed, adrenaline¡¯s fading high serving to make hilarious what humour would not, the necromancer busy putting down the last of her own zombies. Erebus laughed as well, hair slicked back by spider-blood but otherwise unharmed, his robe sufficiently waterproof the viscous goo had simply oozed off of it. Others had not been so lucky. Sato was planning to have his shoes burned once they were free of the canyon and it wasn¡¯t an uncommon sentiment either, the only thing stopping Alice from just ditching her ruined clothes was the impressionable teenager travelling with them. Said teenager having already taken fresh clothing out of his pack, he and Holly changing behind a boulder while carefully not looking at each other. Modesty was one thing, having to walk with spider-blood slicking your shirt to your skin was another. Much to the fury of everyone Amara had emerged completely clean, what little spiderblood had gotten on her in the fight had simply cooked off from her flames. On the complete other side of the spectrum was Lana, the demoness had apparently been painted green and was not bothering to clean up. She¡¯d been through worse and there was in her view no shame in being covered in the blood of an enemy. This particular difference in ideology led to her taking the back of the group as they broke camp, the smell was just too bad otherwise. The group were in high spirits compared to the previous day, a lot freer and more talkative now they¡¯d been through their mandatory adventure, a fact confirmed by the sight of a city in the distance, a glorious, towering edifice of marble in autumn colours slowly getting closer. As they walked Alec finally found the courage to talk to Alice. His first impression had been a rather intimidating one, four hardened battlemages all but shaking in the boots at the sight of her, but it was hard to be terrified of someone after you¡¯d watched them rather wretchedly wring arach-blood from their socks, all while hopping and swearing up a storm. ¡°You said when we met that you only had one shift left, and well¡­ you¡¯ve looked very different since we entered Avalon.¡± Alec trying to broach the topic as gently as he could. ¡°And you want to know what all that means.¡± Alice going so far as to ruffle his hair, or perhaps wipe the last of the blood off on it, it was hard to tell. ¡°¡­yes?¡± ¡°Fine. How much has that old fossil told you about shapeshifters?¡± She asked, indicating Erebus at the front of the group. ¡°Nothing. From the name I¡¯m going to guess you can change shape¡­ why do you keep calling him old?¡± ¡°Because he is old. Old Er¡¯s over twice my age.¡± Alice explained with a shrug. ¡°But you¡­¡± ¡°Looked older. That¡¯s part of it. He can hold off the years, I can¡¯t. It¡¯s one of the big costs of warshifting.¡± She rubbed at her forehead as she saw the lack of comprehension in his eyes. ¡°Short version. Shapeshifters provided they stick to a few important rules might as well be immortal. We don¡¯t get old, we don¡¯t get sick, can¡¯t be poisoned, can¡¯t be altered by magic. Got all that?¡± A nod from the boy, ¡°Good. Well one of those rules is that what you shift into has to be about the same size as you already are. You break it, well getting rid of or creating all that weight comes with a real cost, and one of the big ones is that you start losing your ability to shapeshift.¡± ¡°Okay, so I¡¯m guessing you broke that rule?¡± Alec guessed, not that it was a hard conclusion to reach. ¡°My whole thing is breaking that rule. That¡¯s what warshifting is, getting big as possible and going on a rampage. If I¡¯m given time to get going there¡¯s very little I can¡¯t break, once you¡¯re about five floors tall with twelve foot tusks, a reinforced skull and redundant organs there¡¯s very little you can¡¯t just run through on a charge, and probably even less that can kill you in a single blow. And that¡¯s the only way to kill a warshifter, we heal too fast for anything else.¡± Alice explained proudly, ¡°And that¡¯s just if you want to be boring about it.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re losing your abilities¡­?¡± Her audience pointed out. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s the cost, it¡¯s really hard now. Experts say I have one really big shift left, two if I push it. After that I¡¯ll be stuck in the carcass you saw when we first met. For what it¡¯s worth I won¡¯t be stuck in it long.¡± ¡°You said, some kind of illness? Except you just said shapeshifters don¡¯t get sick.¡± ¡°Well spotted. That¡¯s one of the other big costs, as your shifting gets worse you start making things incorrectly, glands that don¡¯t work, or work too much, feathers when you wanted scales, stuff like that. Well one of the things that happens when your body starts making things wrongly is a nasty disease called cancer. Basically your body makes some cells incorrectly, and those cells make more cells just like them and it grows inside you until it kills you.¡± She gave a shrug, the very vision of resignation. ¡°Can¡¯t do the healers do something about it?¡± Alec protested, he¡¯d already seen, and been the subject of some pretty incredible healing and if this was some known thing then there surely had to be a cure. ¡°Remember what I said about not being alterable by magic? That includes healing, they can¡¯t even cut it out, I¡¯ll just regenerate the cut before they can do anything.¡± ¡°Oh that¡¯s so¡­ bleak.¡± ¡°It is what it is. I don¡¯t regret any of it.¡± She forced a smile, ¡°I¡¯ve got a memory I take out and look at every time I wonder if it was worth it. It¡¯s the faces of the survivors when we broke the siege at Gerlun, me and Ere, just me and him against a full Legion of Wrath. I remember the relief and the hope on their faces and I know it was all worth it.¡± ¡°Well that answers one of my questions.¡± Alec smiled back, ¡°But uh¡­?¡± ¡°Why am I now a woman?¡± She smirked, ¡°You know a fellow shapeshifter would mean that very differently, to most of my people the idea of sticking to one gender would strike them as quite odd. When you can be anything the idea of limiting yourself to just one option would be treated as an act of madness. I¡¯ve just always felt more comfortable as a woman than a man, don¡¯t ask me why, it¡¯s just how I feel. That¡¯s not the body I was born with so it¡¯s not the one I¡¯m now stuck with as I lose my power. It¡¯s like constantly wearing clothes that don¡¯t quite fit, distracting and uncomfortable.¡± ¡°That just about covers what I was going to ask.¡± The teenager admitted, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you get asked that a lot?¡± ¡°Hardly at all actually.¡± Alice laughed, ¡°I don¡¯t meet people much, it¡¯s a hazard of the job.¡± They lapsed into a companionable silence after that as Arcadia grew closer, occasionally having to step aside for other travellers now and even the occasional peddlers cart, though never more than a couple steps from the path even this close to the city. Everyone was careful not to speak as the fair folk passed them, sticking carefully to Erebus¡¯ instructions. It was as they finally came into sight of the city gates that it happened, one of the travellers, a gaudily dressed fae lord wearing a blood red hat with a thorned sword at his hip bumped into Alec, the fae stumbling and just managing to catch his feet before he could fall. ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going mortal.¡± He snapped, brushing himself down. Alec looked down, cheeks red with embarrassment, ¡°Sorry.¡± It was as if the world itself stopped. Every fae head in sight turned to stare at the fourteen-year old boy who quailed under so much attention. The fae lord whirled, mouth open to cry out in triumph. He never got the chance. When fire gets especially hot the flames move from red to blue. The beam of pure heat that turned his chest to a crisped, black and smoking ruin was outright white with a tinge of necrotic green on the outer edges. Erebus paused, Yew¡¯s stave suddenly in his hand and no one could be entirely sure how it had gotten there. Another moment of the world holding its breath and the fae lord looked up at Erebus and smiled, scorched internal organs no longer on display as he patted down a tunic that was merely slightly singed. The fae not just a fae lord but a Sidhe Lord, a ruler of their own demesne in Avalon, able to superimpose their will on the land, simply ignoring the incredible flames because he had decided they hadn¡¯t happened. This was Erebus¡¯ worst case scenario, but like all worst case scenarios he was prepared, another hit of necrotizing flames, this one bright enough everyone but Lana had to look away. The Lord was prepared this time though and the heat simply stopped feet from him. ¡°A debt.¡± He said slowly, savouring the word, ¡°The boy has acknowledged a debt to me. And you have engaged in an unprovoked attack on a Lord of the Sidhe, violating the Treaty of Meliador and threatening to plunge Reath and Avalon into war anew. I am in an indulgent mood, I will allow the insult to pass if no further action is taken.¡± ¡°All I did was say sorry¡­?¡± Alec replied weakly. The fae gave him a fatherly smile, ¡°And in doing so acknowledged you had wronged me.¡± Erebus took in those gathered, all the fae nearby had blades, some half-drawn and not a one in anything other than autumn colours. The trap was finally sprung. ¡°The boy is protected.¡± He declared, stepping between Alec and the Lord. The fae just sneered, imperious yet beautiful, ¡°You think I fear one of the god¡¯s playthings here, in mine own realm?¡± ¡°I never said my protection. Look carefully at him, that¡¯s one of Von Mori¡¯s own dryads he¡¯s bonded to. I ill think the Autumn Court can afford to wane further, do you?¡± ¡°You must think me a fool. Von Mori lies slain by a mortal of all things.¡± He guffawed, finally drawing the thorned longsword. Erebus sighed, ¡°Let all who bear witness testify that I tried to reason with the deceased.¡± The mage blurred, grabbing time and speeding it just for himself, as his master had taught him. He could see the momentary shock in the Lord¡¯s eyes as he did what should have been the purview of the Fae alone in this place before he too began to wind time in his favour. Noone could manipulate time like this on Reath, the aetheric chains prevented it but here the fundamental nature of the world was a lot more negotiable. It wasn¡¯t going to matter. Erebus pulled deeper, slowing time for the world around him so far the light shifted crimson. Then he struck, like with Rend earlier this was pure brute force magic as he stepped forwards, placed a hand on the Lord¡¯s head and forced energy into it. Just pure mana as he sucked it from his environment and dumped it into his foes skull, going further than that as he turned heat to mana and dumped that too, burning vitae, his own magicka supply and anything else he could think of. Time resumed as shards of the Lord¡¯s skull bounced off the cobbles. Erebus practically collapsed, his magicka spent and sweating profusely as he dropped to his knees to dry-heave in the sudden frost. Slowly he rose back to his feet, taking in the shocked faces of the assembled fae. ¡°Okay. Now I¡¯ve violated the Treaty of Meliador. The question I have is if any of you plan on doing a thing about it? No? Good.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere.¡± A calm voice told Erebus, the words spoken directly into his ear as a hand took a firm grip on his shoulder. ¡°For violating the Treaty of Meliador, as sworn and signed by thine ancestors, I, Meliador the Great, do bind thee to stand trial for thy crimes and do uphold that the debt of Alec, son of Arthur, passes to Rougeris¡¯ next of kin, which happens to be myself. Strange how these things work out.¡± Silver and bronze chains leapt from the earth to wrap around Erebus¡¯ wrists and ankles, dragging him back down to his knees, it wasn¡¯t hard, after that sort of heavy-duty spellwork it was the direction his legs wanted to go anyway. ¡°Lord of Autumn.¡± The necromancer replied politely, ¡°You are making a mistake.¡± ¡°How so? Without rules what remains is anarchy. And the first rule of Arcadia is that all debts shall be paid.¡± Looking upon Lord Meliador Alec was struck by just how handsome he was, in a rugged sort of way. There was a rogueish charm to the bushy beard that was so carefully unkempt, a gleam of mischief in amber eyes, and a smile that even a demon would call devilish. He was clad in bronzed mail, as befit his season, though Alec would bet it held up to a blade better than finest steel and in his free hand he carried a greatsword as easily as if it were a toothpick. ¡°Because I have no wish to wage war on Arcadia at this time.¡± Erebus replied as if it were obvious, ¡°But I will if you force my hand.¡± Meliador laughed, ¡°Thou might have been a match for my red-capped cousin but thou will find me a far more wily foe necromancer. This is my season lest thee forget.¡± ¡°I was hoping we might settle the matter with a game of riddles.¡± Erebus shrugged, totally nonchalant despite being chained down to the point of immobility, his allies watching on helplessly. There was no challenging the Lord of Autumn, the sheer weight of his presence was warping the world around him, just to gaze upon him was to think of waxing nights and waning light, of heat turning to cold and where¡¯er he walked things fell to decay. Erebus could have poured his entire lifeforce into Meliador, the condensed mana of aeons, drained artifacts and exhausted a dozen demonic pacts and it would have done little except give the Lord of Autumn a headache. He was to the Sidhe Lord the necromancer had murdered what that same lord was to a child. The only other person who could even muster the strength to glare at him besides Erebus was Holly, not even Lana, a demon lord if a lesser one, could manage it. Not that Erebus was glaring, the necromancer was if anything hiding a smile, as if he knew a secret that he was just dying to share. ¡°I think not. Thy crimes are too great to be simply riddled away this time necromancer.¡± ¡°Are you sure? I was going to lead with one of the classics.¡± Erebus smirked, ¡°What have I got in my pocket?¡± Meliador rolled his eyes, but still he tried to answer, cheating as only a Sidhe Lord could by focusing on the world, senses probing into the robe pocket the necromancer had indicated and found¡­ that he couldn¡¯t tell what it was. There was a hole in the world and that could only mean one thing. ¡°You¡¯re a mad man.¡± He gasped, one hand raised to raze the necromancer from existence. Erebus chuckled, ¡°Maybe, but if you blast me like that you¡¯re going to render half of Arcadia uninhabitable. You need me to get rid of it.¡± ¡°One of the other mortals¡­¡± ¡°Half of them are death-seekers and the children are under Von Mori¡¯s protection, if you tried that then my only regret would be that I was too dead to watch.¡± The necromancer laughed, then simply stood up, the chains shattering as he did so. ¡°How-? My treaty-?¡± ¡°My ancestors signed it. I did not.¡± He began to reach for his pocket, fingers halting on the lip of the fabric, ¡°Your move your lordship.¡± ¡°Reach for it and I will smite thee.¡± Meliador growled, raised hand dropping. The necromancer was right it was too dangerous to annihilate him but that didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t be killed. ¡°Oh easily, but I am a necromancer. Kill me and my corpse shall finish the task, rend my body from this world and my vengeful spirit shall carry on.¡± He said, and took the nail out of his pocket. It was barely an inch long, one of the hobnails from Natalya¡¯s boots that Erebus had palmed as he stripped the iron from them. As one creature every fae but Meliador turned and fled, there was no panicked shouting, no screams, they weren¡¯t going to waste valuable air on anything that wasn¡¯t running for their lives. And far, far from Arcadia, in the lands where they held sway the King and Queens of Avalon rose to the sky, trying desperately to cross the distance to Arcadia, but Avalon¡¯s rules held sway to all, even royalty. One adventure, no more, no less. They would never make it in time. ¡°Absolve the debt Meliador, or I scatter ten grams of powdered iron evenly over Arcadia. Your children¡¯s children¡¯s children will whisper in horrified tones about the consequences of Meliador¡¯s Folly.¡± ¡°If you do this the fae shall wage war upon Reath unlike any your people have ever seen. We will salt the earth, burn your cities to ash, spare none!¡± The Lord of Autumn losing control of his temper, gaze never leaving the nail as he wracked his brains for anything he could do and finding nothing. Nothing of fae make, no spell nor being born of Avalon could touch iron. If he summoned a gale it would just ignore the small fragment of iron even as it tore down buildings. ¡°Are you really going to risk that just to save a child?¡± ¡°Do you honestly think you will sway me because you¡¯re trying to take hostages? Hostages you don¡¯t even have to hand? Now absolve the debt. My grip is slipping.¡± Erebus said, adjusting his fingers on the nail. ¡°Fine. Fine. The debt is absolved.¡± He hissed, ¡°Now put the damn nail away!¡± ¡°And you will give your word that you will not seek or encourage reprisals for our visit.¡± The necromancer continued, locking eyes with the ancient sidhe. Meliador opened his mouth to protest just to give an undignified squeak as Erebus dropped the nail, the necromancer scooping it out of the air mere inches from the ground, and very nearly from Ground Zero. ¡°Whoops, it¡¯s my age you see, my hands aren¡¯t as steady as they used to be. Your word Meliador, I will not ask again.¡± ¡°You have it. I will not seek or encourage reprisal, but thou know I cannot speak for my fellow rulers.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine but tell them, when they come, that they either come for me or not at all, or I will return and when I do it won¡¯t just be with a nail, and it won¡¯t be to Arcadia, it will be to Arctis Nox, the Blessed Isles and Summer¡¯s Rest.¡± ¡°You really are mad aren¡¯t you?¡± There was little rage in it now, just a sense of wonder and vague pity. ¡°They will come mortal. If you¡¯re fortunate you will die in the fight.¡± Erebus chuckled, ¡°I am seldom fortunate. Now let¡¯s get out of here.¡± He put away the nail and continued down the path to Arcadia, the others, most still slack-jawed at his audacity, followed him after a few seconds to collect their bearings. Once in Arcadia, and being actively avoided by the denizens there, Erebus led them to an abandoned antiques shop, and it was long abandoned, the necromancer beckoning them inside and locking the door behind them. ¡°I thought that went rather well.¡± He began as he surveyed his shell-shocked companions. Natalya¡¯s jaw opened and closed several times but no words came out. Amara was the first to manage it, ¡°You- you just¡­ just¡­¡± ¡°Held an entire reality at wandpoint and dared it to blink first.¡± Erebus thoroughly nonchalant about the matter as he began searching through the backroom of the antique¡¯s shop, ¡°Now where in the hells did I leave it¡­¡± ¡°Would you actually have done it?¡± Alice asked, torn between disbelief and awe. ¡°In a heartbeat. Meliador would have sensed if the threat was anything less than sincere.¡± ¡°But the devastation¡­ the consequences¡­¡± She continued, it was probably the first time she¡¯d ever looked at her friend with fear in her eyes. ¡°Reath would survive. It always does, and the stakes are too high to play games anymore.¡± Erebus growled, moving to start rifling through a second cabinet. ¡°Besides I knew he¡¯d fold, Meliador lacks the will for a real fight, it¡¯s why he¡¯s a lord and not a king.¡± ¡°And if it had been any season but autumn in Avalon?¡± Natalya asked archly, finally finding her voice. ¡°Then we would all be dead and Arcadia uninhabitable until the end of time itself.¡± He responded flatly. ¡°Well not necessarily, Maeve has always held that a debt ends in death, and Oberon would judge the fight between the Red Cap and myself as a fair duel. It¡¯s only if it were summer that we¡¯d have been in serious trouble.¡± ¡°Do you think that was the actual Red Cap?¡± Alice mused, allowing herself to be a little distracted now that Erebus had, if not fully explained away his actions then at least proven he¡¯d been following some sort of plan rather than some momentary urge of madness in bringing the nail. ¡°I have no idea and frankly I don¡¯t care. The man¡¯s followers are probably more disgusting than he is.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s the Red Cap?¡± Alec asked curiously. ¡°A former champion of Winter, he defected to Autumn when the Autumn and Spring Courts were formed.¡± Natalya explained, ¡°Nasty piece of work, made himself famous for his travels on Reath. He¡¯d make friends with travellers, then as they made camp he¡¯d butcher them and dip his hat in the blood so it would maintain its red colour, built a bit of a cult around himself over it. If Erebus did kill him and not a copycat then it¡¯s probably the best day¡¯s work he¡¯s ever done.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you approve of that lunacy?¡± Amara growled, ¡°We might as well have started a war! One we¡¯re ill-equipped to fight!¡± ¡°Not a war.¡± Sato interjected before anyone else could, all eyes somehow off in the middle distance, ¡°Meliador will make sure of it, Erebus scared him, truly scared him. The idea that someone so much weaker than him could prove a threat has shaken him to his core, and given him an idea. He will make sure the other three courts abide by Erebus¡¯ rules.¡± ¡°And why would he do that?¡± The vampire snorted, too-long arms folded over her toast-rack chest. ¡°Weakness. He detests it and yet for as long as he can remember the Autumn Court has been the least of the four, if a monarch were to hazard a shot at Erebus and miss it would be a great opportunity.¡± The mage lapsed back into silence, eyes closing, as if that little speech had exhausted him. ¡°I certainly hope so¡­¡± Erebus murmured, reaching deep into a bottom drawer, ¡°Ah got it!¡± He pulled his arm back triumphantly to reveal what seemed like a lavender pearl, yet too large to have come from any normal oyster, the amalgamation of minerals bigger than a fist and pouring off a purple smoke that was already reddening and blistering Erebus¡¯ skin as he hastily stuffed it into his robe pocket, the blisters vanishing with a hurriedly muttered healing spell. ¡°Was that-?¡± Natalya began in disbelief. ¡°That was ace number one.¡± Lana cut her off, ¡°We should not speak its nature here.¡± The demoness smirked as she very gently hugged her friend, only mildly impaling him on her armour, the hug a prelude to a headlock as she affectionately rubbed a gauntleted knuckle against his head, the necromancer failing to pull free. ¡°We might actually survive all this.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about it as soon as we¡¯re in the death zone.¡± Erebus assured them, ¡°That, the prophecy, I¡¯ll come clean on everything.¡± ¡°You¡¯d better, I¡¯m really tired of this cloak and dagger nonsense.¡± Amara hissed, ¡°And of feeling like I¡¯m gargling glass, how far away is the exit?¡± ¡°Right here in fact.¡± The necromancer grinned at them, ¡°What? Did you really think I¡¯d do something as insane as visit Arcadia and only achieve one goal in the process? We¡¯ve lost any tracking, I¡¯ve got one of my aces and now¡­¡± With a wave of a hand a portal appeared in the antiques shop, it revealed an overgrown grassy field, about thigh height, and towering over everything a circular wall, reminiscent of Seruatis but much much taller. ¡°Here¡¯s our death zone. Everyone through, Alice and I will take the rear.¡± Noone needed to be told twice, whatever charms Avalon had held had long faded, sure the grass wasn¡¯t unnaturally lustrous and vibrant with dew, but it was grass and it was real and alive and wonderful as Holly lay down in it whilst Amara just massaged a throat that was rendered raw from the hissing and growling it had been reduced to. Once it was just the two of them Erebus moved and barred the portal with his body, turning it opaque with one hand as he turned to smile sadly at Alice, ¡°You should remain here.¡± ¡°And why in all the hells would I do that?¡± She didn¡¯t quite snarl, forcing herself to keep her temper. ¡°Because you could be happy here, and you could be you here.¡± Erebus said, gesturing at her body, ¡°If you stay here you¡¯ve got a long and happy life ahead of you, no cancer, no war and above all you can be who you really are.¡± Alice considered it. All that Erebus had just said was true. ¡°You¡¯re right. Except it wouldn¡¯t be a happy life, I¡¯d know that I¡¯d let my friends down, abandoned them when they needed me most.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve done more than enough Al, you don¡¯t owe the world through there a damn thing more.¡± Her friend insisted, stepping slowly back towards the portal. ¡°If you¡¯re thinking of stepping through and trapping me here, don¡¯t. I¡¯ll hunt you and I will find you. Maeve¡¯s darkest schemes and Titania¡¯s wrath will seem like joy compared to what I¡¯ll do to you.¡± This time it really was a snarl. Erebus sighed, ¡°Why forsake happiness when you could just stay here and be you?¡± The shapeshifter gave him an exhausted smile, the bubbliness and fire melting away, ¡°Two hundred years old and still an idiot. I¡¯m old Ere, more than anything else I am old, and I am done. This place might give me the body of my youth but it does little for my mind beyond sharpen it, the memories remain. And I am so terribly tired, even here. I was not made for peace and my body is now too weak for war, let me have my final battle and have done.¡± She gave the necromancer a fond if exasperated look, ¡°You still have a young man¡¯s heart old friend. You think you can fix everything, including your mistakes. Me? I know who I am and that¡¯s enough, I don¡¯t need the world to tell me it¡¯s true.¡± With that she pushed him, unresisting, aside, and stepped back into Reath. Oathkeeper - Chapter 7 - Approaching The Death Zone Far, far away from where a young dryad lay down in the grass and wept to hear the world speak to her once more, the bard fumed. It had been a whole month since Erebus had stepped through his portal to Avalon and since then there¡¯d been nothing. Worse they hadn¡¯t dared spy on their other interest, Questing Beasts were simply too dangerous to mess with, especially one an immortal had all but admitted to being unbeatable. They had other projects of course, some of them years in the making. Right now it was one of those projects they had deferred to. It was common knowledge that the mission that had turned Erebus from a powerful battlemage to the kind of being who stared down demon lords without blinking had been the result of a terrible accident. Erebus might have never looked much further than the official report, a simple untracked mark in a ledger had let to a mage on the verge of elemental apotheosis never getting the letter to recall them to Vulcanus. The clerk responsible had been fired and that had apparently been that. The bard knew this was a lie. They¡¯d checked the records meticulously, not just of Vulcanus but of every major elemental cult who¡¯s records they could get, either by requisition, by them being publicly accessible or by theft when no other choice had presented itself. They had confirmed years ago what Amara, Natalya and Erebus had only just began to suspect, a conspiracy amongst the elemental cults. The number of failed and uncontrolled apotheosis had tripled over the last century. A failed apotheosis wasn¡¯t so bad, at least in terms of collateral damage, the mage, unable to contain the terrible power coursing through them would simply be consumed by it, leaving little but ash, snow or some other detritus attributable to the element in question. Uncontrolled was a lot worse. Their minds ravaged by their power, often literally being brain damaged in the process, the mage would lash out in pain, destroying everything in their path until they either stabilised or died. It was possible that the rise in incidents was just coincidence but the bard would have bet a fortune beyond measure that it wasn¡¯t. And the attempt to kill Amara was likely the final piece of the puzzle they¡¯d been waiting on. With no way to harm Erebus the bard had decided to help him instead, it hurt them not at all which of their enemies died when the two collided. * ¡°That was unpleasant.¡± Susan¡¯s quiet voice said from beside Erebus, the shadow seemed smaller, hunched even, compared to her earlier self. The necromancer had to do a double-take as he realized something that was more than a little disconcerting, the entire time they¡¯d been in Avalon he hadn¡¯t even once noticed that Susan was with them. He wasn¡¯t the only one, Lana even going so far as to half-draw her blade before she remembered that Susan was on their side. Amara hadn¡¯t even noticed, they¡¯d emerged in daylight and it had taken her a second to get her hood up and she was currently trying to put out the flames. ¡°I should have thought of that.¡± Erebus admitted, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, and it wasn¡¯t a physical tiredness. ¡°The highest form of a shadow¡­ when you don¡¯t notice it at all.¡± ¡°Beats being some sort of annihilator.¡± She shrugged, ¡°That was¡­ risky, what if Avalon had enhanced the more destructive side of my nature?¡± ¡°It hadn¡¯t even occurred to me. Or rather it had but I assumed that you would be immune to Avalon¡¯s glamour.¡± She laughed, ¡°Breaking news, read all about it, the great Erebus is not in fact omniscient.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let him off the hook that easily,¡± Natalya interjected, ¡°what¡¯s this about an annihilator?¡± ¡°Anything I touch, living at least, and inanimate if I focus on it, is destroyed instantly, or absorbed, I¡¯ve never been entirely sure which it is.¡± Susan explained, and it was a good thing they couldn¡¯t see her eyes roll as everyone but Erebus and Lana took two sharp steps away from the hole in the world. The older necromancer whirled upon her former subordinate, ¡°And you thought it was a good idea to bring her into Avalon?¡± ¡°My assumption was that she would consume the glamour as well.¡± Erebus explained, the words as mild as he could make them. ¡°So you¡¯re telling me we just came a coin flip away from just ending an entire plane of existence, with us in it?¡± There was a real edge in Natalya¡¯s voice, the kind you could shave with. ¡°That would be accurate yes. Good thing that didn¡¯t happen.¡± The younger necromancer apparently determined not to help his case. ¡°If you were still part of my squad I wouldn¡¯t even wait for the trial, I¡¯d end you here and now.¡± She growled, mayhem in her eyes. ¡°I did have some assurances.¡± Erebus told her calmly, before pointing his chin at Lana, ¡°She would have warned us if Susan represented such a threat, that or killed her herself, no offence Sue.¡± ¡°None taken.¡± The shadow said quickly, the former umbramancer was carefully stepping her way through the group to outskirts so as to avoid the risk of accidental contact, leaving a trail of grass that was simply gone in her wake, perfect footprints, like an artist¡¯s impression of someone walking through the sand barefoot. ¡°Is this true, demon?¡± Nat demanded, not placated quite yet. ¡°Of course, the child of oblivion was never meant as a destroyer. The adversary simply lacks the artifice to create a less dangerous tool.¡± Lana drawled, as if speaking to a particularly slow student. ¡°The adversary?¡± For once it wasn¡¯t Alec nor Holly asking the obvious question. Natalya was a master necromancer and had faced just about every enemy Reath had to offer at one point of her centuries long career, but she¡¯d never been one for offworld travel. Reath offered more than enough problems without bringing interdimensional politics into it. ¡°The last primordial? The encroaching darkness? The great annihilator? Devourer of realities? The all consuming one?¡± Lana tried, growling in frustration as she saw not a glimmer of recognition in their eyes before turning her literally glowing gaze upon Erebus, ¡°You surround yourself with mayflies. It ill becomes you.¡± ¡°They¡¯re my friends Lana. Just like you. Treat them accordingly.¡± The necromancer stated, it wasn¡¯t an order, orders could be refused, this was simply a statement of how things were going to be and the demoness narrowed her cat-slitted eyes at him before looking away. In that moment Erebus could probably have won a staring contest with a gorgon. ¡°The adversary¡± Lana continued as if nothing had just happened, pride demons quite literally knew no shame, ¡°desires the destruction of all life, all worlds, all realities, their hunger so endless they consumed their own name. They consume realities, leaving nothing. Back during the Primordial War, or so legend has it, as the last titan fell against it and the last of the Old Ones, Great V¡¯larnoth, The Hungering One was themselves consumed in a brutal attempt to out-eat the other, the gods saw that defeat was inevitable. So they created Reath, and forged it with a thousand thousand chains such that the adversary could never step foot upon it, not so long as even one chain remains.¡± ¡°This is a fairy tale.¡± Natalya snorted, ¡°Folklore and nothing more.¡± The demoness smiled, showing far too many razor sharp teeth, ¡°But the adversary was cunning, they created agents, creatures that reflected its devouring nature, that could reproduce and thrive in the hostile worlds that surrounded Reath. You came to call these agents demons. Alas they made them too well, daemonkind could indeed thrive in the hells, but the devouring one¡¯s hunger was endless and its patience non-existent. It began consuming the hells with its own servants still inside them.¡± Lana smirked, pleased to see her audience enraptured, ¡°We rebelled, naturally. But its hunger is never-ending and the eternal darkness encroaches upon our worlds more every day, held back by a few beacons, imperators like the demon I served and Erebus apprenticed under. It¡¯s why we covet Reath above all things, here, and here alone, the adversary cannot reach, in person at least.¡± ¡°They created new agents, this time shorn of personality, of will, tiny fragments of itself kept safe inside the shell of a victim¡¯s hollowed out soul, like Susan here.¡± Lana smiled, ¡°I suppose technically that makes us cousins.¡± ¡°That makes no sense.¡± Amara objected, ¡°Susan still seems like, well, Susan.¡± ¡°She got incredibly lucky. Her rescue confirms a few things, that the shadows cannot convert their victims, or they would have done so, so my master concludes that the work is done by the adversary personally. It has been¡­ distracted of late. The imperators have been attempting a counter-offensive and it has, presumably, had little time for Reath, content to let its unseen hands work for it.¡± ¡°What are imperators?¡± Holly asked, going so far as to raise her hand to try and get the demoness¡¯ attention. ¡°You would know them as demon kings. Bearers of ignited chaos, much as the fae queens and king bear their shards of reflection and the gods had their divine sparks.¡± Lana explained having to resist the urge to facepalm at their blank expressions, which was probably for the best, with just how spiky the armour was it would likely prove painful. ¡°It¡¯s all just a stupid translation error, back when daemonkind and humanity were still at the getting to know you stage of things, well the first devil summoned was male and was asked to explain daemonic politics, devils, imperators, that kind of things. Bear in mind he had almost as little knowledge of you as you did of him, so he, like an idiot, asks what the highest rank in the land is and they tell him it¡¯s a king. Boom, imperators become demon kings and devils become demon lords.¡± Lana managed to an impressive amount of derision into the explanation, ¡°We still haven¡¯t let Amelon live that down.¡± ¡°So what is a devil?¡± The dryad pressed. Erebus, for once, cut the lesson off, ¡°Table it for later, the point is that Susan isn¡¯t a threat unless she chooses to be. Now we need to get inside that wall.¡± ¡°Seems like standard enchanted masonry, no actual spells of containment in the mix, nothing offensive or particularly defensive. For a death zone it¡¯s very lightly contained.¡± Sato noted, reading the runes from a distance, ¡°Where did you bring us?¡± ¡°Forsaken Valda.¡± The necromancer said, beginning to walk around the wall and beckoning the others to follow him, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, there¡¯s a gate on the other side.¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°It¡¯s not having to get over the wall that¡¯s worrying me.¡± Sato told him, ¡°That place is a deathtrap.¡± ¡°You couldn¡¯t have picked somewhere that at least has a survival rate? Forlorn Ulyss? The Abellian Abyss? Malice¡¯s Cottage?¡± Natalya added for good measure. ¡°I¡¯ve got a hunch that I know what¡¯s inside.¡± Erebus assured them. ¡°Oh a hunch. Marvellous. Hey everyone there¡¯s no need to be worried about the certain death inside because Erebus here has a hunch.¡± Nat practically spat. ¡°Sarcasm is beneath you.¡± The other necromancer retorted loftily. ¡°So is getting murdered by an unknown monster. Seriously, nothing has every walked out of there. Everyone who steps inside just vanishes without trace.¡± She hissed, though she was still walking with him towards the entrance. ¡°I have a hunch.¡± Erebus repeated. ¡°It had better be a damn good hunch, because you¡¯re about to bet all of our lives on it.¡± ¡°Just trust me Nat, this is the last step and then I¡¯ll tell you all everything, we¡¯re nearly there.¡± He took her hand in his, squeezing gently, ¡°Please.¡± Natalya all but tore her hand away from him, ¡°Fine. Fine, but you really are pushing this. Amara and I want our lives back and I¡¯ve really starting to wonder if the easiest way is just to do their job for them and kill you.¡± The necromancer paused, ¡°Please don¡¯t do that.¡± ¡°Then give me a reason not to.¡± She snapped, ¡°One more evasion, one more ¡®not right now¡¯ and I will take drastic action.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t survive it.¡± Lana told her, the demoness all but breathing down her neck. Natalya wasn¡¯t taking that lying down either, stepping back and away, the tip of her staff pointed at Lana¡¯s forehead, the smooth, green sphere atop it beginning to glow azure. ¡°Oh don¡¯t get me started on you.¡± ¡°Please, get started.¡± The target of her new ire invited, seeming more amused at the threat than insulted or concerned. ¡°Why should we even begin to trust you? Even if we take everything you just told us to be true, and that¡¯s a big if, you more or less just admitted that your people want to invade Reath, that it is, in fact, their top priority.¡± It was, Alec had to admit, a good point. The demoness certainly made him uncomfortable, and not just because she was dangerous to walk close to, it was the way she looked at him, at all of them really. It wasn¡¯t predatory, that he could have lived with quite easily, supernatural predators were practically in the majority in Seruatis, but when Lana looked at him it was like he wasn¡¯t really there, not really a person, just a piece on a board to be moved and eventually discarded. It was only different with Erebus, there, and there alone, her gaze softened and the permanent superior smirk became something a little more genuine and less practiced. If Reath were a chess board then Erebus would have been the king, to be protected and guided to where it was safest, which, Alec supposed, would have made Lana the queen. Somehow he doubted he and Holly even qualified as pawns. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t trust me.¡± Lana told them, gazing sweeping imperiously over the assembled mages, ¡°Trust is for fools and the newly spawned. Even my own master trusts me not, and she charged me with protecting her prize pupil all the same, because it matters, not just for your petty little world but for all the worlds. The prophecy he wishes to tell you of, once you are safe enough to make plans, is a prophecy of apocalypse.¡± Alice sighed, rubbing at her eyes with liver-spotted fingers, even as Amara and Natalya looked to Erebus for confirmation, the necromancer nodding reluctantly. Sato, as always, watched unperturbed, it was a poor precog who could not conceal their reactions. ¡°I¡¯ve told you how important Reath is on a cosmic level.¡± Lana continued, ¡°Something threatens the one safehouse in the entire multiverse. That is my priority and I will gladly sacrifice each and every one of you to achieve it, on that you can trust me. Once we are inside I presume my charge shall give you the prophecy verbatim. Are you concerns addressed, Natalya of the Gardeners?¡± ¡°For now.¡± ¡°Good then let us continue, I have been looking forwards to finding what makes this place a death zone. Though I suspect there will be little sport in it, even the greatest hunters lose prey betimes, likely the threat is environmental.¡± Noone felt much like talking after that dire pronouncement, the doorway into the death zone soon appearing, a thin, archway, big enough for one person and no more. Again there was no great protective magics, just words above the arch, bespelled to be comprehensible in every language: ¡®Within lies nothing but death. We do not know the cause or the source but nothing returns past this point.¡¯ ¡°They¡¯re really not going to try and stop us?¡± Alec asked, a little stunned that a place that apparently just killed people didn¡¯t even have a guard. ¡°With what manpower?¡± Surprisingly it was Sato who answered, which a cynic might interpret as whoever answered it in the timeline his eyes were seeing gave a bad one. ¡°Forsaken Valda is only dangerous to those fool enough to enter it, and the Council of Mages is always stretched thin. Right now for example they¡¯re hunting a fugitive necromancer who¡¯s hunted demon lords and threatened to wage war on Arcadia.¡± Amara snorted, ¡°That and it¡¯s the mage way, there¡¯s always someone who¡¯s convinced they can do what has proved impossible before, easier to just let them try, who knows one day they might even be right.¡± ¡°That seems¡­ irresponsible.¡± Alec said slowly, such a blas¨¦ attitude would certainly have been anathema under the Paladin aegis. ¡°It is.¡± Erebus said simply, ¡°Allowing people to make their own choices is usually irresponsible, foolish and dangerous but the alternative is tyranny.¡± ¡°Surely there¡¯s a middle ground?¡± The teenager asked, both stances seemed dumb to him. ¡°Of course there is, and thousands upon of hours have been spent arguing where that middle ground should be. This is one example, there¡¯s a clear warning, but people can still choose to throw their lives away if they choose.¡± ¡°Like we¡¯re about to.¡± Amara chimed in, ¡°Not that I don¡¯t trust you Ere, I do, but this seems like a risk.¡± ¡°It is, but it¡¯s a necessary risk.¡± Erebus assured her, ¡°Now everyone through the gate.¡± ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t.¡± Natalya growled, ¡°You¡¯re doing it again.¡± ¡°Doing what again?¡± The younger necromancer asked innocently, whilst carefully stepping out of reach. ¡°The thing where you force us all through a portal except the person you want to talk to.¡± ¡°Oh that thing, well yes. There¡¯s a possibility, a vanishingly small one, that this might involve some forbidden magic, and in that case I really can¡¯t have anyone who isn¡¯t part of the plan to deal with it knowing about it.¡± Erebus admitted. ¡°Because none of us have ever encountered forbidden magic before.¡± The elder necromancer snapped, ¡°I think we can handle the knowledge.¡± ¡°Of course you can, but as you yourself have so heavily stressed, this is a big risk, I don¡¯t want you all going in with my paranoias colouring your perceptions when it very well could, and probably is, something else entirely.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ reasonable. I don¡¯t like it but I can¡¯t think of a good argument against it right now.¡± Nat conceded, ¡°Who do you need?¡± ¡°Alec and Holly.¡± ¡°The children?!¡± ¡°I won¡¯t say more on it, as I said it would colour your perceptions.¡± Erebus stated, resolute on this point. ¡°Fine, but can I please have my boots back now that you¡¯re not threatening armageddon with them?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± There was a brief lull as various items were returned to their rightful owners. ¡°Now, everyone through the doorway. Lana first please, if there¡¯s something directly harmful on the threshold you should be the most likely to resist it.¡± The demoness nodded, stepping through the stone arch, and vanishing. It wasn¡¯t a slow vanishing either or a gradual disintegration, one moment there, the next popped out of existence. Erebus winced, resisting the urge to say something like ¡®I do hope I¡¯m right about this.¡¯ ¡°Sato next.¡± He ordered, the precognizant stepping up to the archway and just stood there. ¡°All clear upon crossing, there¡¯s a town in the distance which I suspect is Valda. Lana is with me, tapping her foot and looking impatient. It¡¯s dawn here rather than midday.¡± With that he stepped through and too vanished. Everyone let out breaths they hadn¡¯t realized they were holding. ¡°Sh-shouldn¡¯t we have sent Sato first?¡± Amara asked cautiously, not wanting to seem overly critical after the rows they¡¯d all borne witness to. ¡°No. If the cause of death took longer than five seconds to appear we¡¯d never have had a clue.¡± Erebus said smoothly, ¡°that¡¯s why I sent our toughest,¡± He glanced at Alice, ¡°well second toughest. I don¡¯t want to waste your last shift on a simple environment check.¡± ¡°Appreciated.¡± The old shifter growled, stepping through without being prompted. ¡°I was going to say Amara next, but that works too. Mar, do a quick sunlight test once you¡¯re through.¡± ¡°Will do.¡± The pyromancer vanished as well. ¡°Me next?¡± Susan asked, getting a nod from Erebus before she stepped through. With her it took a little while longer, leaving a few barren footprints before her silhouette disappeared. Natalya gave him a long look, ¡°Whatever advice you¡¯re planning on giving me I don¡¯t want to hear it.¡± She went to step through only to step as Erebus grabbed her sable sleeve, ¡°Let go.¡± ¡°No. This needs to be said.¡± He told her, calm but slightly sad, ¡°Natalya, I¡¯m not your subordinate any more. And no you aren¡¯t mine either. Yes I keep secrets from you. I don¡¯t like doing it, but the stakes I play for these days are just too high not to. You look at me and see a rogue mage, someone dangerous and out of control, and that¡¯s simply untrue¡­ well the dangerous part is true but I¡¯ve never been more controlled than I am now. I want us to remain friends but you have to realise that I cannot open up to you like I used to. I can¡¯t run every plan past you like I used to.¡± ¡°Was that it?¡± She demanded, pulling her sleeve free with both hands. ¡°You¡¯re full of crap Ere. You¡¯re not some grand arbiter of chaos, you¡¯re an arrogant and broken toy that one day the demon you serve will discard.¡± With that she too stepped through. ¡°I don¡¯t serve a demon.¡± He told the empty space she¡¯d been standing in, looking older and more tired than Alec had ever seen him, even when he lay dying in the Seruatis infirmary. ¡°I don¡¯t serve anyone anymore.¡± Slowly he turned to the dryad and her host, ¡°Sorry you had to see that.¡± ¡°You said you had a task for us?¡± Holly asked hesitantly, trying to put her best foot forwards. ¡°Did I? Oh yeah, right, that.¡± Erebus shook his head, trying to shake loose whatever funk was gripping his thoughts, ¡°I need one of you to stay behind.¡± Alec winced, that was going to hurt, the bond became strained and narrower by any distance more than a few hundred metres (a feat he was informed was already incredible for a dryad Holly¡¯s age), if dental drills had been invented he¡¯d have described it as having one pressed to his temple. ¡°Why?¡± Holly asked him, not saying no but equally apprehensive. ¡°A few reasons,¡± Their mentor told them, ¡°wherever possible always do things for multiple reasons, saves a lot of time. The first reason, and the important one, you saw how people vanished through the barrier, all at once? My guess is that it won¡¯t be able to do that to either of you, not with part of your soul still outside the barrier.¡± ¡°That¡¯s interesting but I don¡¯t see what it achieves.¡± Holly replied. ¡°Well for starters it gives us a set of eyes outside the barrier, say there¡¯s some sort of flare up or whatever they¡¯d be able to tell us that something¡¯s happening, and vice versa, maybe help us narrow down what the problem is.¡± ¡°What are the other reasons?¡± asked Alec, beating Holly by about half a second. ¡°It¡¯s good training. Regularly straining the bond should allow you to be further apart without pain.¡± He told them. ¡°That¡¯s all I want from whoever goes inside with us, just practice sending things across the bond, emotions, magicka, senses, whatever, but take it seriously.¡± There was a moment of silence as the pair mentally confirmed before saying as a single voice, ¡°We¡¯ll do it. Any other reasons?¡± ¡°One, but that one¡¯s a secret.¡± Erebus assured them, ¡°Just remember that no matter what happens you have to stay outside the barrier. Now who¡¯s going and who¡¯s staying?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll stay.¡± Both answered heroically before glaring at each other. ¡°I should stay.¡± Holly argued, ¡°I don¡¯t need food or water and there¡¯s no way of knowing how long this will take.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all true.¡± Alec agreed, ¡°But, counterpoint, you are literally the most impatient person I¡¯ve ever met.¡± ¡°And you love learning about magic.¡± ¡°And you literally agreed to radical magical surgery so you could explore the world.¡± Erebus sighed, fumbling in his pockets for a single copper piece, ¡°Shield or skull?¡± ¡°Shield.¡± Holly said, moments before Alec could say the same. The necromancer flicked the coin up, caught it, glanced at it once and put it back in his pocket. ¡°Alec stays, Holly comes with me.¡± The teenager nodded his acquiescence, taking his pack off and begin to get out his bedroll and pillow, planning to use them as a seat propped up against the wall. ¡°Do you want the sword Hol?¡± The dryad thought about it, ¡°No I¡¯m good, anything that can get past the mages a pigsticker wouldn¡¯t be much good against, whereas you¡¯d be left defenceless.¡± Alec nodded, he hadn¡¯t thought of that, or rather he¡¯d more been focused on the fact his other half was going to be entering a place that literally had death in its description. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you all updated.¡± Erebus nodded, ¡°Just remember, no matter what happens on our end, you do not go through that doorway unless the only alternative is death.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got it sir.¡± Alec promised, as he settled down to stare out at the empty grassland surrounding Valda. The plantlife cut back every year or so in the interests of safety and the path long overrun. ¡°I mean it, even if you can¡¯t feel the bond, even if it hurts so badly you want to die, it¡¯s important you stay in this spot,¡± Erebus told him, ¡°and don¡¯t call me sir.¡± ¡°I can do this.¡± The teenager assured him one final time, resting his sheathed blade on his lap. There was nothing more to say after that, Erebus and Holly stepped through the barrier, and then Erebus was gone. If Alec had been looking he¡¯d have seen that Holly, and Holly alone, remained, walking in lockstep with their enigmatic mentor. Oathkeeper - Chapter 8 - The Prescient, Blinded A month was a very long time in politics and yet a very short time in Seruatis. The collision of the two one would presume would reach some sort of happy medium, alas this was not to be. A month on from the prophecy, which a melodramatic few were already calling ¡®The Last Prophecy¡¯, chaos still reigned over the world¡¯s deadliest retirement home. The Swordsman had long given up trying to stop people leaving, and accordingly the population had plummeted, almost half what it had been and many houses lay empty. What was newer was that he¡¯d stopped giving aid to the small groups leaving. It wasn¡¯t a sudden callousness or lack of empathy, he¡¯d simply run out of aid to give. The vaults of Seruatis lay bare but for those weapons deemed too dangerous not only to ever be allowed out into the world once more but too dangerous to destroy as well. Despite all that, and a sudden drop in the quality of food, Seruatis¡¯ leadership, unofficial as it was, was intact. The Eternal Swordsman had faced no challenges to replace him as custodian and the three gods that slumbered there had faced little more than token efforts to remove them; no one knew what would happen if they simply refused, afterall how did one kill a god? There was one resident who knew the answer to that question, and the echoes of her footsteps haunted the library as Dus locked it for the night. Normally at this point she¡¯d lurk between the shelves, enjoying a few precious hours without her sightless domino mask. It was necessary, even polarising lenses were not proof against a gorgon¡¯s gaze and she had no desire to slaughter her fellow denizens by the dozen every time she took a stroll. Still she took her mask off, the creatures she was about to treat with she wished she could turn to stone. With determined steps she stalked to the second floor, settling into the small alcove where her three greatest enemies lurked, just an old hardwood table between ¡°You¡¯re late.¡± Pheus needled, though there was no heat in it, this was just them going through the motions. It was a familiar, comforting thing. ¡°Some of us still have duties to the world.¡± Dus replied icily, face a blank enough mask as the make the real one seem expressive by comparison, ¡°You desired a meeting, speak your part and have done.¡± ¡°That could take some time.¡± The God of Dreams assured her, ¡°Much as it took us much time to settle upon a course of action.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been sending people out to die for a whole month.¡± She pointed out, trying to stare down the inhumanly beautiful man. ¡°A low cost and low effort strategy, not even one in ten shall succeed.¡± Nem replied, matching Dus¡¯ icy tone. ¡°A lot of people are going to die because of it.¡± The gorgon pointed out, it wasn¡¯t that she particularly cared but a free barb was a free barb. ¡°And those that survive it shall be forged anew. And the chains whos locations we revealed are¡­ I suppose you could call them limiting chains. Things designed to stop one people having the strength to just wipe out another.¡± The God of Vengeance explained, ¡°With what is to come we shall need the extra strength.¡± ¡°Presuming this great end of yours comes generations down the line.¡± She countered. ¡°Presuming this is so, yes, but we seek not to presume but to ensure.¡± Jay told her, taking over from Nem. This Dus did take seriously. Though she¡¯d never met Sato she¡¯d have regarded him as a master precognizant. Jay would have run rings around him, and like anyone who could see the future, and intended to live to see it, he held his tongue wherever possible. When Jay spoke, people listened. ¡°You have a plan. And you need me for it.¡± The ancient gorgon concluded. ¡°A plan, and a gift, or a trust.¡± He told her, a smile on both sides of his face. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Dus demanded, wanting this over with more than she could put into words. Even this short chat with these monsters made her queasy. ¡°There will come a time, in the near future, where we will request our dear patron lower the shield protecting Seruatis. We need you to side with us on the issue.¡± She was almost sad she hadn¡¯t been drinking something just so her surprise could spray it over the god¡¯s smug face. ¡°He would never agree to that.¡± ¡°He must. The life of the necromancer depends on it.¡± Jay told her, the god unusually sincere as he held her gaze. ¡°Have you got any evidence? Any proof I can present?¡± ¡°If we had we would be presenting it.¡± Pheus butted in, ¡°But we are certain it is necessary, the necromancer is a surprisingly sturdy mortal, and has slain a Sidhe Lord within Avalon, we can thus conclude that it would take a being of incredible power to slay him if trickery is not deployed.¡± ¡°And rendering Seruatis defenceless helps how?¡± Dus snapped, ¡°Or do you really think there won¡¯t be attacks if we lower the barrier even for a moment?¡± ¡°Oh there will be attacks.¡± Nem assured her, showing far too many unnaturally sharp teeth, ¡°but we are not defenceless, The Swordsman is a more than adequate guardian and we are still gods for all we are diminished.¡± ¡°And the help?¡± ¡°We will cast a spell, the four of us and those mages I trust not to screw it up, a spell of war the likes of which has not been seen since you and I stared across forgotten fields and swore to place our blades in the other¡¯s heart. We will activate weapons left dormant and rain death down from the skies, and if that does not work then we shall take the field. This is our world.¡± Nemesis told her, and she could have bent adamantium upon the steel in his voice, his face a hideous snarl of conviction turned to madness, ¡°Not even Fate shall take it from us.¡± The other gods winced at that, as he put name to one of the three, and in his harsher aspect as well. Dus let the words settle a few moments before she let a smile spread across the thin line of her lips, ¡°There you are. I worried you¡¯d forgotten who you are for a long, long time. But it¡¯s still you in there, I¡¯d hate to kill you and stare into the eyes of a stranger as the light fades from them.¡± ¡°One of us had to keep their fangs sharp.¡± Nem assured her, ¡°In case a certain gorgon grew impatient. Now will you support us?¡± ¡°I will. You¡¯ve convinced me, and I think you misjudge the fondness our patron has for young Erebus, he might very well be convinced as well if you spoke with the same determination you did just now.¡± Jay shook his head, ¡°No better than the flip of a coin. He may respect us, but you he calls friend. Just you now Alisha has left us. We made mistakes there, in many ways she has even more right to hate us than you do. Sometimes I almost wish she did.¡± ¡°There¡¯s recrimination enough to use a broad brush where the muses are concerned.¡± Dus conceded. ¡°You mentioned a trust?¡± Pheus nodded, ¡°Yes. Old secrets, even The Swordsman hasn¡¯t been told.¡± With a flourish he produced a piece of paper, sliding it over to her. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± She asked, curiosity dampening the waspishness she wanted to put into the words. The problem was the gods had never been this forthcoming, this kind or this generous and Dus had seen it before, for all Nem¡¯s talk of fighting for the world this was very much people putting their affairs in order. The paper was mostly numbers, a set of spherical coordinates, already an oddity, as well as a set of equations and timestamps but the coordinates could not possibly be right, if they were that would mean¡­ ¡°Orbital equations.¡± Pheus told her, ¡°For one of our older contingencies. Our very last, last resort, so that if all divinity passed from this world there would be at least one weapon that could harm an imperator or a greater agent of oblivion. It¡¯s a far out orbit to prevent some curious mage discovering it, we maintain it with a telekinetic pulse from the obelisk every solstice.¡± ¡°You hid weapons in space.¡± Dus replied numbly as she stated the obvious. The sheer audacity of it had taken her breath away. ¡°We hid weapons in space.¡± The god of dreams confirmed, enjoying the moment, it was delightfully rare they took Dus off-guard with anything and he was certain that his own dreams would be just this moment replied endlessly for weeks to come. ¡°And you want me to¡­?¡± ¡°Memorize that information then burn it. If something happens to us when the barrier falls then you will be the last line of defence for Reath, or whoever you choose to entrust it to.¡± It was a heavy charge, one she desperately wanted to refuse, any weapon that required that kind of effort to hide would be a terrible one indeed. She knew the things that lay in Seruatis¡¯ vault still, some of them made her skin crawl, one could make her skin get up and crawl away. This would be worse. ¡°How do I activate it¡­ them?¡± She asked, trying, and just about managing, to keep a tremble out of her voice. ¡°Them. One on each side of Reath at all times. And just send a standard message spell with a corresponding set of coordinates, use spherical notation centered on the core of Reath. You have a few miles leeway in each direction.¡± ¡°A few miles¡­¡± Dus echoed, staring down at the piece of paper and realising she wasn¡¯t holding some sort of precision weapon but a city killer in her hands. The small sheet seemed incredibly heavy all of a sudden. * Forsaken Valda was almost picturesque, the town a mostly wooden and thatch affair in the distance. The cobbled path leading from the gateway showed no sign of two hundred years of wear and maintenance, or it would have if there were still a gateway, from inside the death zone there was no wall and thus no arch to step through. Before they could get started walking there were a few problems that needed sorting, first and foremost Sato. The magician was staring intently at his own hand as he waved it slowly back and forth before his eyes as if he were seeing it for the very first time. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± He said slowly to himself as Erebus watched on with concern written over his face in large type. ¡°He¡¯s been like that since the moment he stepped through.¡± Lana told him, and while the demoness would never go so far as showing concern for a mortal ¨C barring those she was charged to protect - she certainly seemed curious. The necromancer gave her a slow nod, taking a few more moments to get the lay of the land, there were a couple other surprises in store. Amara had her hood down for example, and he could see the currents of mana well enough to know she wasn¡¯t casting a spell to keep from bursting into flames; which he privately suspected was the reason she¡¯d learned pyromancy in the first place. Susan was running her fingers through the grass, marvelling as it wasn¡¯t consumed; if Erebus were honest that was probably the scariest thing there. Holly followed after him, at least at first, nearly doubling over in pain. She couldn¡¯t be more than ten metres away from Alec and yet it felt like he was far enough to almost be a dot in the distance. Carefully she clamped down on the pain, not letting it travel across the bond, though it was stretched so thin that she wasn¡¯t even sure it had the bandwidth to accept something as complex as pain and besides she had much more important things to get from it, like the magicka she needed to survive. Taking deep breaths the dryad centred herself, letting the grass around her take a fraction of the burden, meditative technique dealt with the rest as she crossed over to Sato alongside Erebus. It was like trying to drink from a straw a few sizes too small but it was enough. Barely. The mage was on closer inspection sweating and on the verge of hyperventilating, in even that short time collapsing to his knees, ¡°I can¡¯t see. I can¡¯t see. I can¡¯t see¡­.¡± The words came, on and on, faster and faster as panic set in. ¡°Easy Sato.¡± Erebus said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, the mage didn¡¯t react in the slightest. ¡°Sato, can you hear me?¡± There was no response at all beyond the magician continuing his new mantra even as Erebus shook him gently by the shoulder before waving his own hand in front of his friend¡¯s eyes. The necromancer frowned, then clapped his hands right next to his ear, again nothing. With slow, deliberate motions Erebus took a pin out from within his robes, the voluminous depths of his pockets a mystery known only to him it seemed, then stabbed it into the meat of Sato¡¯s right hand. A bead of blood welled as he extracted the pin, yet Sato didn¡¯t react in the slightest. ¡°This could be a problem.¡± The necromancer said slowly as he healed the slight wound with a wave of his hand before turning to his gathered companions, all apparently awaiting his verdict, ¡°Does anyone have any ideas?¡± ¡°None. But he can¡¯t stay here, we need to put him back through the barrier. You left Alec on the other side?¡± Alice asked, taking decisive action. ¡°Yes. Straining the bond between the pair will provide valuable training as well as a lookout.¡± Erebus told them, ¡°and apparently someone to look after Sato.¡± ¡°Did you know this would happen?¡± Natalya demanded, their previous argument threatening to surface. ¡°No I did not. Didn¡¯t even suspect it, which is a bad sign.¡± The necromancer frowned, ¡°But I¡¯m not sure we can send him back, nothing lethally bad has happened and yet no one has ever returned from where we are now.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Experimentally Natalya rummaged for a stone from the ground and tossed it at whence they¡¯d come. The stone disappeared as it passed the threshold. Without having to be told Holly did her part, holding up a hand not to be interrupted as she began sending a mental message through her bond, it was a barebones message, shorn of emotion, tone and inflection but she was just about able to force it through. ¡®Alec. Did a stone just come through the gateway.¡¯ It took almost a minute before she got a reply, the words a tinny, monotone whisper, clearly Alec was having a lot more trouble with the bond than she was. ¡®No. Hurts.¡¯ She hid a wince, ¡°He says nothing came through.¡± ¡°Well that settles that.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°We¡¯ll have to carry him with us.¡± ¡°Do we though?¡± Amara asked slowly, ¡°He¡¯ll be a liability and if we¡¯re heading deep into a death zone we might not be doing him any favours.¡± ¡°Unless there¡¯s something predatory lurking here, in which case we¡¯d be leaving him defenceless.¡± Natalya snapped, having to fight hard the urge to talk down to the vampire, it was easy to forget that for all her skill and battle accolades she¡¯d never been part of the more cloak and dagger side of magic, ¡°At least we can protect him if he¡¯s with us.¡± ¡°Well I can¡¯t carry him.¡± Alice pointed out, ¡°and I doubt Holly would be much help here either.¡± Erebus¡¯ eyes glittered with calculation, ¡°Amara will carry him.¡± He concluded. ¡°If this is an attack then we don¡¯t want to reduce our spellpower more than necessary. Though I have to ask Mara, why is your hood down?¡± ¡°There¡¯s something wrong with this sunlight.¡± The vampire told him as she threw Sato over her right shoulder like a sack of spuds, the mage not resisting her in the slightest, his words now inaudible for all his lips were still moving. ¡°It¡¯s normal light, I should be roasting alive but it¡¯s like¡­ I don¡¯t even know what it¡¯s like. The best description I can give you is it feels old. Like its power is already spent.¡± ¡°Maybe its supernatural properties have been stripped to power the disintegration field?¡± Natalya suggested. ¡°You might be on to something there.¡± Erebus nodded, ¡°Maybe some kind of general magical dampening, Susan¡¯s not killing things. Holly looks like she¡¯s about to pass out. Sato¡­ what if he¡¯s lost his foresight? I knew he was overreliant on it but what if that¡¯s all he has? All his senses tuned to the future.¡± His fellow necromancer¡¯s frown deepened, ¡°We could be in trouble here. We just lost our early warning and Amara¡¯s going to be slow on the draw.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± Amara protested, ¡°I¡¯m left-handed so it won¡¯t affect my draw, and I¡¯m strong enough it won¡¯t affect my aim either before you raise that as well.¡± ¡°It will affect your defence though, a shield of flames is a great thing if you¡¯re fireproof, Sato isn¡¯t.¡± Alice rumbled, ¡°and that¡¯s not getting into the other problems that arise if it is dampening, like you not being fireproof. That goes double for you Ere, an aegis is a wonderful defence against unknown threats but they¡¯re also the most mana intensive, now imagine if it took twice the effort.¡± Erebus looked thoughtful for a moment before resuming his morose brooding, ¡°That¡¯s assuming I¡¯m right. If it is a dampener then it¡¯s the strangest I¡¯ve ever seen, loads of mana in the air and I¡¯m not picking up any strange currents to indicate a siphon.¡± Holly decided this was her moment to contribute, ¡°The land isn¡¯t picking up anything strange, and it doesn¡¯t feel like I¡¯m having magicka stolen, just that I¡¯m having to draw it from a great distance.¡± ¡°A true mystery then.¡± Erebus concluded solemnly, ¡°Unless someone has anything they want to try and tell us about we should get moving.¡± It took a few moments for Lana to speak, and for the first time since they¡¯d met her the pride demon sounded uncertain, ¡°I might have something¡­ it¡¯s just a feeling but- but this place reminds me of home.¡± She stopped, noticing that all eyes were waiting on her to continue, ¡°There¡¯s a presence, it¡¯s barely there, but it¡¯s like this place belongs to someone, as if it dances to their whims. Which is impossible, Reath can¡¯t attune to an individual like that.¡± ¡°Noted.¡± Natalya said with all the seriousness of an open grave. ¡°She¡¯s not quite right there.¡± Amara corrected quietly, ¡°The strongest elementals can do that, not much, but they can, and it takes an age, but if they stay in one place too long it begins to reflect their personality. Just don¡¯t ever let anyone know I told you.¡± ¡°A dryad of the forest has a similar effect.¡± Erebus added, ¡°though I think we¡¯d notice a forest.¡± ¡°Do you think the ground Valda was built upon might be an earth elemental?¡± Natalya asked, her gaze darting back and forth across the grassy earth. ¡°If it were we¡¯d already be dead.¡± Erebus assured her, which wasn¡¯t perhaps as reassuring as he¡¯d intended it. ¡°The town then.¡± The elder necromancer concluded, ¡°Something in the town.¡± ¡°Or someone.¡± The demoness added with unnecessary melodrama. The walk to the town was probably even more silent than the initial trek through Avalon. For all the realm of the fae had been as deadly as it was beautiful they hadn¡¯t been carrying wounded, the death zone of Forsaken Valda had already taken one of them out of the fight without even trying, and possibly without even noticing. Surly didn¡¯t even begin to describe the motley crew as they approached the town. Lana already had her sword drawn, and the three mages still standing made sure their staves were held ahead of them and their arm free of any obstructions their travelling cloaks and robes might present. Holly and Alice were in the middle of the group, given they¡¯d contribute little to a fight and, while Alice was her usual gruff but chirpy self, Holly was so jumpy she was practically spinning trying to watch their flanks. Whatever they¡¯d been expecting of the town, abandoned for centuries, it was not what they found, the buildings were not just in good repair but apparently pristine, untouched by the ravages of time, no vegetation overgrew them, even the path remained unmarred by moss and gross. Just as they got close to town they heard it, voices in the distance, amongst the buildings, they weren¡¯t especially loud, two men arguing passionately but not with rage. The mages wouldn¡¯t have been mages if they hadn¡¯t slowed their pace enough to quiet their steps and eavesdrop. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Evan, but I can¡¯t justify a search party.¡± One man was saying, as placating as he could be but resolute all the same. ¡°You don¡¯t understand John, he¡¯s never late and he¡¯s two days past when he was supposed to return. What if he¡¯s gotten hurt out there? I hear there¡¯s a colony of arach out past Evergale Ridge.¡± The other man, presumably Evan, replied, deep worry in his voice. ¡°Cal¡¯s smart, he¡¯ll be fine. He probably just decided to spend the night in Evergale with Abigail.¡± ¡°What if he hasn¡¯t, John?¡± Evan pressed, ¡°What if he¡¯s out there bleeding in the dirt in need of help?¡± ¡°Look if he isn¡¯t back by tonight I¡¯ll arrange a search in the morning.¡± John promised, the advancing group pausing as they got to the nearest house, whoever was talking was just around the corner. ¡°He might be dead by morning!¡± Erebus looked back at his friends, giving them a somewhat bemused looked before he handed his staff off to Natalya, ¡°Play along.¡± He mouthed silently, before stepping out in sight of the two chatting people. They were a pair of mages, one a balding dark-skinned gentleman in the pale, dull brown of a geomancer, no staff to speak off but there were two wands, one either side of his belt. One of them a standard caster¡¯s aid and multitool, much like Erebus¡¯ own favoured stave, the other was a more specialized combat tool, a storm sapphire in steel and copper, a decent tool for lightning spells and little else, and an oddity by any measure given the lack of wood. Wands in that style had fallen out of favour a long, long time ago, though they resurfaced now on then in small towns like this where family heirlooms ran rife and funding was negligible. Still it had probably cost the owner a pretty penny unless the necromancer missed his guess, the fast cast and near-instant burst of energy of a lightning wand covered a lot of the weaknesses common to geomancy and the mage had probably sought it out. The other mage was in the pristine white of a healer, or rather it had once been, the robe was in a mild state of disrepair and dust and dirt clung to the hem. The healer themselves didn¡¯t look much better, his face was sallow and dirty blonde hair was beginning to mix with grey as it hung down past his shoulders. Two days stubble also clung to his face, scratchy enough to make Erebus have to avoid scratching his own hairless chin in sympathy. ¡°Good morning gentlemen. I am Erebus, First Response Squad Leader, I¡¯m here as part of an emergency message sent out five hours ago, my credentials are in my left breast pocket, with your permission I will levitate them over to you now.¡± The two mages stopped their argument, whatever their differences they were presenting a united front in the face of the stranger, the healer accepting the crystal as it was levitated over, allowing the geomancer to keep his hands near his wands. ¡°It¡¯s real.¡± The healer said after a couple seconds, throwing the crystal back for Erebus to catch. That was interesting, levitating such a small object should have been child¡¯s play for even a half-trained mage. ¡°Well¡± The geomancer drawled, ¡°we have a problem then, cause no message was sent to my knowledge and I¡¯m the only person in this town with the authority to send it.¡± Erebus scowled, ¡°We certainly have a problem. Message said there¡¯d been a wave of disappearances, folks just vanishing, blink and you miss it.¡± ¡°Pretty sure I¡¯d know about something like that.¡± The geomancer declared, hands inching closer to his wands, ¡°Sounds to me like the Council just wants to stick its nose where it doesn¡¯t belong.¡± ¡°And just who might you be?¡± The necromancer asked with a sweetness that, upon further inspection, would be revealed to be mostly vinegar. ¡°John Mill, Geomancer Second Class and Guardian of Valda.¡± The mage declared, ¡°And this is Evan, Healer First Class.¡± ¡°Well Magus Mill, from my perspective there¡¯s a mystery here. Mind showing me your own crystal, cause if you¡¯re telling the truth about who you are then someone¡¯s playing silly buggers and I think we would both benefit from finding out who.¡± ¡°I concur.¡± John replied, still clearly one twitch from violence as he slowly took out his primary wand and levitated his crystal over. Erebus did check it, just in case, sending a small pulse of mana through it and the crystal responded, sending information back to him. As expected it was indeed the crystal of John Mill, Geomancer Second Class, the crystal including an image of the mage in question that matched the man before him and, after a second slightly more in depth check, showed no signs of tampering. In a way that was good, in another more important way it was bad, a shapeshifter or other supernatural heavyweight pretending to be the town Guardian would have made things a lot simpler. For one it would have provided grounds for seizing control of the town. Erebus decided to be a little bit cheeky, teleporting the crystal back to John¡¯s waiting hand, very nearly getting blasted for his troubles. ¡°Give me a moment to confer with my team then I suggest we go to your house and check your message crystal for tampering.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll meet you there. Evan do you mind showing these nice people the way.¡± Somehow he managed to make ¡®nice people¡¯ sound like a particularly venomous expletive. ¡°Sure thing John, though if there are disappearances then maybe that search party isn¡¯t such a bad idea¡­?¡± Evan suggested hesitantly. ¡°Let me confirm there¡¯s actually a problem first.¡± John told him sternly as he stalked off. ¡°He seems friendly.¡± The necromancer quipped once he was sure that the aging geomancer was out of range. ¡°Don¡¯t be too quick to judge, it¡¯s been a hard couple of years.¡± The healer replied, quick to defend his friend. The black robed mage gave him his friendliest smile, ¡°Want to tell me about it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you fine Council folks would know better than I would.¡± Evan told him evenly, trying to stare him down. Erebus however had been stared down by professionals, still he decided to hazard a guess, ¡°Taxes?¡± ¡°Of course it¡¯s bloody taxes. I¡¯m all for peace but this stupid idea the Council¡¯s got about a joint task force is going to beggar us.¡± The healer snapped, ¡°That and constantly poking your noses where they don¡¯t belong. We¡¯re not harbouring any cultists, we aren¡¯t harbouring them this time, we weren¡¯t harbouring them last time, we weren¡¯t harbouring them the last ten times and we won¡¯t be harbouring them the next either!¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Erebus said slowly, ¡°That wasn¡¯t in the file I read.¡± Which was true enough. Evan rolled his eyes, ¡°Of course it wasn¡¯t. That¡¯s what the last guy said, and the guy before that, and-¡° ¡°I think I get the picture.¡± The necromancer replied dryly. ¡°What cult do we think you¡¯re harbouring?¡± Evan gave him a look that doubtful barely covered, ¡°You¡¯re actually being serious? The Order of the Shattered Shield!¡± When that barely got a glimmer of interest the healer¡¯s gaze narrowed, ¡°You really aren¡¯t here for that huh?¡± Erebus shrugged, ¡°If I stumble across a member, then I¡¯ll handle it, but other than that no, not even slightly.¡± The healer relaxed visibly, ¡°Where in all the hells did the Council dig you up?¡± ¡°Some of us take the job seriously.¡± He said lightly, ¡°Now give me a moment to confer with my colleagues.¡± He walked back around the corner, aware Evan would almost certainly try to listen in and putting up a privacy ward, a slight blurring in the air to prevent lip-reading and static crackle directed outward. He didn¡¯t get a chance to even open his mouth before Natalya started in on him. ¡°What, in the name of the Forgotten Martyr, was that all about? Why do we even need a cover story?¡± ¡°Because the truth would make us sound like lunatics of the highest order.¡± Erebus explained, ¡°Did nothing about that strike you as odd?¡± ¡°The mere existence of survivors struck me as odd.¡± Nat replied, ¡°and they certainly don¡¯t seem to be struggling, which is all sorts of weird given there¡¯s no way this little land can support a town of this size.¡± Alice laughed darkly, ¡°My dear, dear friend, you¡¯re missing the obvious. Healer First Class. Geomancer Second Class. These people have been trapped in just a couple square miles if that, when exactly did they get the chance to attend a mage academy?¡± ¡°I think we¡¯re reliving the day this place became a death zone.¡± Erebus concluded, ¡°Some sort of chronomancy definitely.¡± ¡°That¡¯s hardly definitive.¡± ¡°There¡¯s one more thing, you have to remember I¡¯ve been considering cracking this zone open for a long while, just never had enough serious talent with me to risk the attempt, so I¡¯ve read the files. Evergale was wiped out a couple years after the death zone was declared, massive surge of arach just took the town off the map.¡± ¡°Then the healer¡¯s son¡­?¡± Holly began her question but couldn¡¯t bring herself to finish it. ¡°If he¡¯s not here then he¡¯s several hundred years dead in Evergale most likely. Keep it to yourself. If this is some variant on looped time then there¡¯s little point telling him until we break the loop, it¡¯ll just cause pain.¡± Natalya frowned, ¡°Chronomancy. I¡¯d rather stick my head in the Vault unwarded than fight a chronomancer. Still I suppose it explains the state Sato is in, trying to see five seconds into the future whilst his body is trapped in the past.¡± There was a gasp from Alice, and an expert on her moods, of which several were present, would see surprise in those rheumy eyes, ¡°We have to find them first. They could easily just avoid us until the loop resets. We weren¡¯t here when the loops began, we entered from outside it, so what happens to us when it resets?¡± ¡°Exactly what you¡¯re thinking happens.¡± Erebus confirmed, ¡°Well at least we now know what happened to all the other mages that tried their luck here over the years.¡± ¡°When did you become an expert on time magic?¡± Natalya asked him, there was an edge to it. Just knowing how chronomancy worked carried a death sentence, one of the very few branches of magic that did. ¡°In the hells. Temporal acceleration and deceleration is a standard tactic between fighting devils and my master insisted I had a grounding in the more complex areas of the art. Time looping is about as advanced as you can manage on Reath, outright moving back and forth through time is simply impossible, but it is possible to unmoor a small area from the surrounding flow of time.¡± Erebus glanced around to make sure he was still bringing his audience with him as he explained just how bad the situation was. ¡°The groundwork you¡¯d have to lay would be immense, and the mana to power it¡­ well I couldn¡¯t do it, I doubt Lana could either. If shapeshifters could use any other type of magic then Alice just might but it would be close. And that¡¯s just to power it for a day, I have no idea how the mage behind this has kept it running for centuries.¡± ¡°Maybe they haven¡¯t.¡± Natalya pointed out, ¡°A skilled illusionist could produce a perfect facsimilie of the town, they wouldn¡¯t even have to keep it working all the time, only when someone got close to the gate.¡± ¡°That¡¯s certainly possible,¡± Erebus had to agree, ¡°Add in a magical dampener and it would explain the rest of the weirdness. Then you¡¯ve got the opposite problem of the time loops theory, instead of where is the power coming from, where is the power going, either way you¡¯re looking at something with so much mana that it should be like Valda has its own personal sun.¡± ¡°Maybe it does?¡± Amara suggested, ¡°This sunlight is really weird. And the power could all be going into the disintegration field on the edge of town.¡± The necromancer nodded, ¡°So that¡¯s two competing theories, now how do we test them?¡± ¡°The same way. We split up and look for clues.¡± The vampire suggested only to look thoroughly affronted as everyone but Holly began laughing. ¡°What? I¡¯m serious.¡± ¡°There¡¯s another term for splitting up, it¡¯s called dying. This place has eaten up and spat out hundreds of people, some of them every bit as good as we are.¡± Natalya told her sternly. ¡°Nat¡¯s right¡­ but so is Amara. Splitting up works well, if it¡¯s an illusionist then the extra work of having to accurately reproduce such a large area and so many people will strain them to breaking point, if it¡¯s a chronomancer then their best defence is anonymity, the more people we¡¯re watching the more likely they are to slip up in front of us. But if you do spot something you don¡¯t confront it, you quietly find a friend and we all then link up to handle it together.¡± Erebus instructed, this time there wasn¡¯t any arguing. For all the distrust this really was what the mage did best. Oathkeeper - Chapter 9 - Investigating A Calamity In Progress John¡¯s office would turn out to be near the centre of the town, next to a water fountain that showed a beautiful nude woman who, upon closer inspection, had gills and webbed fingers and feet. A placque at the base of the fountain declared it to be Elamira the naiad, who had apparently blessed the fountain upon Valda¡¯s founding to produce fresh and clean water so long as the statue stood. The Guardian of Valda, like most of his profession, lived above his office, the middle-aged mage settled down at his desk by the time they arrived, a glowing crystal in pride of place and his lightning wand in easy reach. ¡°Hope they didn¡¯t give you any trouble Evan?¡± He said, the words not quite an accusation as he glared at the six members of the ¡®First Response Squad¡¯. ¡°No trouble at all, they¡¯ve been perfect guests.¡± Evan replied, ¡°Want me to leave you folks to it?¡± ¡°If you would, Harriet was looking for you, apparently her husband¡¯s sick enough he couldn¡¯t get out of bed this morning. If it¡¯s something nasty I¡¯d rather you nipped it in the bud.¡± The healer nodded, ¡°Consider it done.¡± The Guardian gave them all a gimlet glare once Evan was safely out of the way, ¡°The crystal¡¯s fine, you can check it yourselves.¡± Natalya stepped forwards to check it as Erebus sighed, ¡°Are we really going to do this stupid standoff every time we talk Guardian Mill?¡± The geomancer¡¯s contempt was palpable as he answered, ¡°If I have to.¡± ¡°It¡¯s clean.¡± Natalya replied before Erebus could retort, ¡°No tampering and it seems to be functional across the board.¡± ¡°See, no message, no tampering, now get your overpaid arses out of my town.¡± John growled. ¡°Have you tried actually sending a message with it?¡± Erebus suggested, Natalya returning to stand beside him, staying clear of his aim and in place to reinforce a magical shield. Whatever their differences they were doing a good act of a squad leader and his trusted second in front of John, they had afterall had plenty of practice even if back then the roles had been reversed. ¡°No. Last thing I want is to make some jumped up clerk tetchy for wasting their time and getting me reassigned to some barren hellscape¡­ if I send a message will you leave then?¡± ¡°If you send a message and it receives a response¡­ yes we¡¯ll leave.¡± ¡°Fine then.¡± John placed a hand on the message crystal, sending a small pulse of mana and the crystal pulsed purple in response, ¡°Priority one message to Council Logistics. Begin message; requesting confirmation of messenger crystal function, got some folks from Response saying it¡¯s sending error codes. End message.¡± The crystal returned to it¡¯s limpid blue, ¡°See, it¡¯s working.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see.¡± Natalya replied evenly, ¡°What¡¯s the average turn around time on a priority message?¡± ¡°Two minutes. Five maximum.¡± Erebus replied before John could, ¡°If you have access to the emergency line¡­ I heard one guy got fired for taking ten seconds to respond.¡± It was a fairly tense two minutes, for Holly at least, Guardian Mill had not relaxed in the slightest, something she could not understand, these were fellow mages, claiming to be here to help and yet his body language just screamed impending violence; when he himself wasn¡¯t outright saying it. ¡°That¡¯s late.¡± Erebus noted, mostly to break the silence, ¡°Still think everything is fine Guardian?¡± ¡°We¡¯re a small town, we¡¯re probably very low priority.¡± John countered, but the words were slow, uncertain. ¡°Maybe. Mind if I send a message?¡± The necromancer said casually, reaching for the crystal. ¡°As long as you take the blame, no problem.¡± Erebus rested his hand on the small crystal, which almost instantly turned red. ¡°What did you do?!¡± John demanded, almost leaping out of his seat, wands in hand now. ¡°Two. Activated the emergency beacon. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.¡± He stared pointedly at the Guardian, ¡°Still think you haven¡¯t got a problem?¡± ¡°There¡¯s definitely a problem. I¡¯m not convinced you haven¡¯t caused it.¡± He declared, ¡°But equipment failure doesn¡¯t mean there¡¯s a rash of disappearances, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯d know about that.¡± Erebus was not a believer in divine intervention, he knew the gods that remained and interventionist they were not. He¡¯d gone to great lengths to slip any scrying lock the yet unidentified bard might have on him, and thus it could only have been real serendipity, superlative in its majesty, that led to that the door bursting open and a young woman, likely barely out of whichever academy had trained her and also in geomancer brown, stepped in, hands on her knees as she fought to get enough breath to gasp out, ¡°Liam and Cal Valstrom are missing! So are the Maliks and I don¡¯t know how many others.¡± The necromancer¡¯s eyes gleamed, claiming disappearances had been a calculated lie, sadly it didn¡¯t differentiate which of the two leading theories it was. If it was a temporal loop then there would have almost certainly been people cut out of it, and he was willing to bet that the reset point was either dawn or midnight, no one who practiced the deep black magics, the ones people denied even existed, lacked for a sense of melodrama. On the other hand if it was an illusionist then this latest revelation was certainly intriguing, it meant the illusionist was aware of them and playing along. The lie that was no longer a lie certainly helped there, the fewer people they were forced to simulate the lighter their workload would be. ¡°Perhaps we can be of assistance?¡± ¡°Definitely not. I¡¯m still not convinced you¡¯re not responsible for this.¡± John growled, ¡°If anything this only increases my suspicion, it would take hours to scramble a First Response team and yet this is the first I¡¯m hearing of this.¡± ¡°Who are these people boss?¡± The woman asked, stepping slowly back toward John, pulling a wand of her own on the group. ¡°They claim to be a First Response Squad investigating disappearances. Comms are down so I¡¯m unable to confirm a word they say.¡± John told her, not even glancing in her direction. Erebus had to give him points for that, and would bet the true names of several demons that the surly geomancer had done quite well on the duelling fields before he¡¯d been assigned here. He noted the inquiring looks the young mage was getting, ¡°Mage Illvere is doing her apprenticeship as a Guardian.¡± ¡°These are a First Response team?¡± The incredulity was understandable. Pretty much all the mages could fondly remember their time training, whether at the Necropolis or the Vulcanus, and First Response had been built up as the best of the best, professional, sleek and drilled to a fault. From a mere visual inspection they wouldn¡¯t fit the bill, two necromancers, neither of who¡¯s robes sported accolades and who were, frankly, looking more than a little sunken around the eyes, a pyromancer, again undecorated and appearing almost younger than she was, an old man who didn¡¯t even have a mage¡¯s robe, the semi-conscious Sato still muttering to himself and who¡¯s robe she almost certainly wouldn¡¯t be able to identify, and a young dryad who was looking wide-eyed and panicked. Only Lana really looked the part, the demoness a towering figure in her needle-adorned mail, her gaze imperious as she stared at the young mage like she was an insect she was debating squashing. The motley group certainly would have been out of place in First Response. Of course as a Second Response team they¡¯d have been derided as overly conformist and plain. That was potentially one of the reasons Guardian Mill was so suspicious of them, he¡¯d likely interacted with enough First Response teams, possibly even been part of one, that he knew he was dealing with a dragon pretending to be a mere wolf. Amara didn¡¯t envy him, if she¡¯d been in his shoes it would have put her teeth on edge, and she had significantly sturdier teeth than the average mage. John Mill scowled, ¡°They certainly claim to be. Still if it came to a fight I suspect it wouldn¡¯t go well for me, so you vagabonds can at least make yourselves useful.¡± ¡°Of course Guardian. We are here to help. If you trust nothing else of what we¡¯ve said trust that.¡± Erebus replied, and that bit at least was honest. ¡°Still we have our own wounded to consider, may we leave poor Sato with your healer, perhaps with a guard? If someone is disappearing the people of Valda then a wounded mage is an appealing target.¡± ¡°Fine. Select one of your people, preferably one with healing experience, if they¡¯re going to be taking up space in our infirmary they can at least do the work.¡± Erebus barely had to think about it, ¡°Nat¡¯s my second and has close to a century of experience,¡± A lot more than that in fact but even a century was pushing the limits of their cover story, ¡°Give Healer Evan a hand and coordinate out of the infirmary. Lana go with her, if we¡¯re investigating then you¡¯re likely to scare the locals.¡± Natalya nodded once, taking Sato from Amara with a grunt of effort, it was surprising just how heavy a limp body was and she lacked the pyromancer¡¯s vampiric vigour. She didn¡¯t leave yet, wanting to hear the rest of the plan. ¡°The rest of you can help me investigate. Mage Illvere, escort these people to the Valstrom house, I¡¯ll investigate the Malik residence with Necromaster Erebus.¡± John ordered, guessing Erebus¡¯ rank and half-expecting to be challenged on giving orders as well but doomed to disappointment on both counts. ¡°That works for us. Alice, Amara, go with Mage Illvere. Holly you¡¯re with me.¡± The necromancer ordered. John didn¡¯t argue, even he could see that Holly didn¡¯t present much of a threat and likely thought the dryad had been bonded to the necromancer, if he was even aware how a soul graft worked at all. * The Valstrom household would prove to be a small cottage in the centre of town. Mage Illvere, who on the walk over Amara and Alice had learned was called Olivia, was talking with the rather distraught parents as the two veterans investigated the house itself, wanting to stay unprejudiced by the parents¡¯ account of events. It was a well kept three room affair with an outhouse, with all the hallmarks of a family that had selected cleanliness as a suitable replacement for wealth on the social ladder. The children had shared a bedroom, there were a few toys on the floor, a carved wooden figure of a horse, some straw dolls with whatever uniform they¡¯d originally had long worn away and a wooden ball that glowed different colours upon being tapped. Amara would guess it the personal work of Guardian Mill, towns like this tended not to have an abundance of mages and she doubted Evan had the time nor Olivia the experience. ¡°No signs of a struggle.¡± Alice noted gruffly, the shapeshifter grimacing as she forced a very minor internal shift and began sniffing the air. ¡°Noone other than the children and the parents, for what little that matters.¡± Amara scowled, ¡°I could have done that Al, vampire remember.¡± The shifter looked down at her feet, ¡°I had actually forgotten.¡± ¡°Most illusionists forget smell.¡± The vampire noted, ¡°Anything else stick out to you?¡± ¡°The covers on the beds.¡± She rasped, trying to fight the need to cough, ¡°If someone had taken the children then you¡¯d expect them to be pulled aside but they¡¯re still tucked in.¡± Amara checked. Alice was of course right, the sheets almost immaculate but for a rumpling in the middle where a child had lain, there was even still an imprint on the pillow. ¡°That is weird.¡± She concurred. ¡°I¡¯d say it leans towards an illusionist, it¡¯s like they simulated a bed with a person sleeping in it and forgot the person. A temporal loop would be geographically bounded, not vanishing people in the centre of town.¡± ¡°Since when were you an expert on chronomancy?¡± Alice arched a bushy eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m not. But it¡¯s a fairly basic rule of enchantment that it affects an area or object so unless our mystery mage randomly decided to exclude two children and almost no one else it¡¯s a safe guess.¡± ¡°Of course there¡¯s always possibility three.¡± The shapeshifter observed in lieu of any extra evidence, there really was very little, it was like the children had simply evaporated. ¡°That¡¯s it¡¯s not related to our mystery mage at all.¡± ¡°What are the chances of that?¡± Amara snorted, incredulous and understandably so. ¡°High enough that I wouldn¡¯t want to bet our lives that it¡¯s not that.¡± The shifter shrugged, ¡°Any non-zero probability becomes a certainty over infinite time.¡± ¡°That sounds like an Erebus line.¡± ¡°It is.¡± Alice admitted. ¡°You¡¯re forgetting possibility four.¡± Susan said, giggling as she detached from the wall, the shadow far too pleased with the way Amara had come a split second from blasting her. ¡°Which is?¡± The shapeshifter a lot less jumpy than the creature of the night. ¡°A shadow could have done it, if they were careful enough about not disturbing the surrounding space.¡± ¡°I thought shadows couldn¡¯t cross the shadowgate?¡± Amara replied, looking a touch confused at the idea. ¡°Well so did I until I became one, and I¡¯m here aren¡¯t I?¡± Susan pointed out, ¡°It doesn¡¯t help the illusion versus chronomancy debate in the slightest but if a shadow had taken the children it would look much like this.¡± ¡°So would teleportation.¡± The vampire countered. ¡°True. The possibilities really are too large to narrow it down..¡± The shadow stepped back, melding back into the darkness of the wall, ¡°I only suggest it because that is something that would chew through mages no matter how skilled.¡± * Across town a similar conversation was occurring, the Maliks had apparently been triplet brothers, well into adulthood, who¡¯d lived on the outskirts of Valda and made their living tending sheep, never really bothering anyone. The only reason anyone had even realised they were missing was that they tended to come to town once a week for a beer and a meal that wasn¡¯t porridge or mutton and they¡¯d not been there last night. They and their flock were missing and Erebus¡¯ investigation had turned up absolutely nothing, a point Guardian Mill would have delighted in rubbing in if he hadn¡¯t found even less. The necromancer was having some difficulty keeping John alive, the small shack was close enough to the barrier that there was a real risk of him stepping through by accident. He was fairly sure he knew what had happened, there¡¯d likely been a disturbance in the night and the brothers had gone to investigate, disintegrating on the barrier or being outside the loop when it reset ¨C if it were a loop. Figuring out how to clue John in, or even if to do so, was hard though, the geomancer had remained standoffish and obstinately refused to turn his back on Erebus, a fact that had slowed their investigation considerably. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Can you make out anything?¡± Erebus asked Holly, even John taking an interest in the dryad who had her ear pressed to the ground as she lay upon the grass. ¡°Nothing you¡¯ll find useful.¡± She admitted, ¡°Plants aren¡¯t smart at the best of times, when there¡¯s a whole forest you get a kind of collective voice that can give you detail but this is just grass. All I can give you is that something stood on it in a hurry last night then just vanished without trace. And that¡¯s the translated version.¡± ¡°That¡¯s something at least.¡± The necromancer assured her, helping her back to her feet with both hands, staff held in the crook of his elbow, then after a moment adding for John¡¯s benefit, ¡°Not many magics that can just remove a person. Especially without any sort of collateral. Say a pyromancer burned someone to even less than ash, the earth here would still be glowing from the heat.¡± Mill gave him a slow look, ¡°Presuming I take your dryad at her word, what magics could do it then?¡± ¡°Entropic magics. Some of the more advanced applications of necrotic spells. Teleportation, though telefragging would be overkill on shepherds. Hmm¡­ geomancy could technically do it but the plants would have noticed that. Technically it would be possible to levitate them away and dispose of them later but again that¡¯s overkill. Did I forget any?¡± ¡°A dryad could have done it.¡± John said pointedly. ¡°And a demonic rift would be similar.¡± ¡°A mature dryad who¡¯s spread her roots maybe,¡± Erebus batting the accusation aside, ¡°and we¡¯d still be smelling brimstone a week later if someone had been dumb enough to shunt them into the Hells.¡± ¡°We should search the area.¡± The geomancer declared stubbornly. Erebus sighed, it was a reasonable precaution and any attempt to stop it would just be more suspicious than the truth. ¡°You might not want to do that.¡± ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± In answer Erebus picked a stone out of the grass and tossed it through the barrier, the rock disappearing without a sound. ¡°Because that.¡± John leapt away from invisible barrier as if he¡¯d been struck by lightning, sprawling on the grass before rolling to his feet, too far past his prime to make it graceful but competently done all the same. ¡°When were you planning on telling me?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t. People do foolish things when they know they¡¯re trapped. The last thing I wanted was a bunch of panicked townsfolk trying to rush a disintegration field.¡± John opened his mouth to protest, then shut it himself, too much grey in his hair to deny Erebus¡¯ point. He¡¯d seen what happened when crowds panicked and once it set in it was almost impossible to stop. ¡°What do you propose then?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°Best I can offer you is that you can¡¯t set up a spell like this without something to power it, and a mana crystal or mage that powerful should be like a beacon yet I¡¯m not sensing a thing, are you?¡± ¡°Most powerful thing I sense is you. And you¡¯re not that strong.¡± John conceded. ¡°How mages are there in Valda total?¡± ¡°Just me, Evan and Olivia. And we¡¯re lucky it¡¯s not just me.¡± ¡°Hmm. Well either someone¡¯s hiding their talent well or you¡¯ve got intruders beyond my team. I¡¯d suggest quietly going door to door, anything this powerful and I can¡¯t see any shielding or screening holding in close proximity.¡± ¡°I can actually do my job.¡± The Guardian growled. ¡°Then go do it. I¡¯ll head back to the infirmary, don¡¯t want to scare anyone and one of us should bring Evan into the loop.¡± * By the time Erebus got to the infirmary he had to shove his way to the door, the thick oak door wide open as Lana stood imposingly in the doorway, stopping the people gathered outside from rushing it. ¡°We know you have sick. We are currently dealing with the most urgent cases.¡± The demoness declared, the sheer terror of her presence doing far more than her measured words. It wasn¡¯t helping that they could hear some of what was going on inside. ¡°I don¡¯t understand it I¡¯m still losing him.¡± Natalya all but yelled, the words strained in a manner Erebus found all too familiar, the necromancer was doing some seriously heavy duty magic and even splitting her attention enough to speak was taxing. ¡°Just keep him alive until I get there.¡± Evan¡¯s voice, far more calm but with the same strain, ¡°If I can just¡­ just¡­ swap places necromancer, you¡¯ll do more good for them now than I can. Hurry.¡± A few seconds reprieve then. ¡°Nothing, they¡¯re gone just like the others.¡± Erebus finally managed to elbow his way to the front, abandoning Holly who hadn¡¯t the experience on how to sidle between people as well as when to deploy a carefully placed shoulder or elbow. Lana almost looking grateful as she let him in. The infirmary had ten beds and all of them were full, and, a brief check with necromancy confirmed, what they were full of was corpses, and worse they were all children. That probably meant something but he wasn¡¯t sure what yet. Nat was moving back over to the one patient still alive and barely at that, Healer Evan had a hand on the young man, more a boy really, and green sparks were almost pouring off the point of contact as the mage put everything he had into a panacea. Erebus was impressed at that, even for a Healer First Class that was a hell of a spell to pull off, and it was a pity that it didn¡¯t seem to be mattering a damn. The young man¡¯s cheeks were hollow beyond the point of sallow, his lips cracked, chapped and bleeding even as Nat helped him take sips of water. The teen¡¯s clothes were several sizes too big for him and Erebus could see his ribs starkly where the cloth rested upon his chest. None of which made any sense. The panacea was a ludicrously inefficient spell despite being the most powerful in any mage¡¯s arsenal because it hit everything, malnourishment, dehydration, starvation, disease, disfiguration and dismemberment, all fell before the blade of a panacea and yet all Evan was achieving was drenching himself with sweat. There was one last rattle from the boy and then he was gone, the spell fizzling out as Evan collapsed back into a chair, looking defeated and broken. ¡°Gone again.¡± Nat said more quietly, looking about as withdrawn as Erebus had ever seen. ¡°What happened?¡± Her former prot¨¦g¨¦ asked gently as he put up a privacy ward, and was surprised the other mages hadn¡¯t already done so before looking around at the corpses that were, he realized, desiccating before his eyes. ¡°I have no idea.¡± Natalya admitted, ¡°They just¡­ died. If I hadn¡¯t been in the room I¡¯d have sworn a succubus or wraith had killed them, something just¡­ sucked the life out of them.¡± ¡°We need to clear the beds.¡± Evan said weakly, forcing himself back up onto his feet. Erebus idly pushed him back in his chair with a whispered spell and a hand made of air, ¡°No. You¡¯re tapped out. And there¡¯s no point.¡± ¡°Not even going to check my homework?¡± Natalya teased weakly, too defeated even to push back against him. ¡°I trust you. If you couldn¡¯t heal them then they can¡¯t be healed.¡± ¡°I might have missed something.¡± And Erebus was stunned and saddened to hear hope in her voice. ¡°I doubt it.¡± He told her, ¡°Damage control. Got to start damage control.¡± The last bit mostly for himself as he stepped towards the door, Lana wordlessly stepping aside to let him address the crowd. ¡°Please, good people,¡± He began, never a good start, ¡°due to the dangers of an outbreak from the infirmary itself please return to your homes. If you leave your name with my bodyguard she will pass it on to Healer Evan who will attend your loved ones when he is available.¡± As expected the little speech went down about as well as a fart at a funeral. Noone wanted to leave and everyone wanted to talk to Evan instead. It was all Erebus could do to keep the scowl off his face, it wasn¡¯t like he could just tell them that Evan was already passed out in his chair where he¡¯d used his entire magicka supply but that that was okay because his help wasn¡¯t worth a damn either way and not from lack of talent. Instead the necromancer just smiled at the angry crowd, ¡°If you¡¯ve any issues with this please take it up with Lana.¡± As he said this Holly finally managed to get to the front, more or less running inside, not that he blamed her. Stepping back inside Erebus ignored the thud as Lana closed the door, the demoness staying outside to handle the crowd, it was a good call, they might be angry but it was unlikely they were angry enough to rush a demon lord, especially when the demon lord was spiky enough to kill several of them just by standing in the way. ¡°Have you ever seen anything like it Ere?¡± Natalya asked, ignoring the lightly snoring Evan and even Erebus didn¡¯t have the callousness needed to wake him. In the short time he¡¯d been outside the bodies had moved from dehydrated to fully desiccated. Whatever had happened was still in full effect. ¡°Looks like blood magic.¡± He said with a shrug, ¡°Except I don¡¯t see how they could be making a channel with so many victims at once. Start mixing blood and it¡¯s as likely to explode in your face as produce the desired effect, and that likelihood increases as the number of targets does.¡± ¡°And here we are without a thaumaturge.¡± The other necromancer grumbled, shaking her head. She might not have been exhausted as Evan, or as Erebus suspected just hiding it better, but he could see her eyelids threatening to droop. Crossing the room Erebus grabbed her wrist, sending a quick pulse of healing through the contact, hiding his smile as Natalya jerked back to alertness. ¡°What did you just do?¡± ¡°A purge of the built up lactic acid in your muscles, the serotonin in your nervous system and added some caffeine for good luck. It won¡¯t last, and your body is still as overworked as it was, but it will keep you functioning.¡± He explained, ¡°Just bear in mind that you¡¯re going to pay for any exertion from now until you sleep, and you will sleep like the dead.¡± ¡°Useful.¡± Nat noted, ¡°Why didn¡¯t they teach us this at the Conclave Vitalis?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s tantamount to dread healing, start tossing this stuff around idly and you¡¯ll see people crippling themselves. Desperate times my friend, desperate times. Now, you mentioned wanting a thaumaturge?¡± ¡°Yeah. I think you¡¯re right, if you ignore the fact it¡¯s targeting so many people at once blood magic fits. It also explains why no amount of healing works, as long as that connection is there you¡¯d only be delaying the inevitable.¡± Natalya thought aloud, glancing at Erebus to see if he¡¯d contribute. ¡°But it should delay it, I just watched a master healer pass out channelling a panacea and it didn¡¯t even slow.¡± Her former prot¨¦g¨¦ noted. ¡°I know, but it doesn¡¯t match anything I know about magical contagions, if it did that crowd would be dropping like flies.¡± ¡°The other big question; why children? While even magical illnesses work best on the young, old and sick not one of these people are older than Alec.¡± ¡°It was a good call not to bring him in then.¡± Natalya replied, and that was a question with edges so sharp you could cut a limb off and it would take a minute to notice. Erebus tried to laugh it off, ¡°I only pretend to know everything.¡± His friend¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t soften in the slightest. ¡°Seriously Nat, I had no idea about this, of the many possible scenarios in my head ¡®child killing blood magic¡¯ was not one of them.¡± ¡°So who¡¯s your suspect?¡± She asked, letting it go. ¡°Well I¡¯d say Evan, healers are almost as renowned for dabbling in blood magic as necromancers, but he damn near killed himself trying to stop it and no matter how good he might be at hiding it you would notice if he¡¯s in the same room as you. John seems like a belligerent git, but well meaning, and the rookie is¡­ well a rookie, I¡¯ve got nothing.¡± ¡°Thank you for the vote of confidence.¡± Natalya replied dryly, ¡°We could always¡­ fight? Get some blood on the floor.¡± ¡°Too obvious.¡± Erebus laughed, ¡°But I like the idea. If we could find wherever the samples are being kept we could swap them out.¡± It was at this point Holly finally had to intervene, ¡°Why would you fighting each other help?¡± ¡°To give our mysterious blood mage, who is also apparently a chronomancer, a blood sample so they can target one of us.¡± Natalya said as if it were obvious. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be¡­ bad?¡± Holly observed, suspecting she was missing something obvious. ¡°For most mages sure,¡± Erebus explained, ¡°Blood magic is a type of thaumaturgy¡­ the magic of links I suppose you could call it, you take an object that relates to what you target and use it to make a link from you to them, it¡¯s what message stones are based on for example, you¡¯re linking one identical object to another one. The stronger the link between the objects the easier the spell is to cast at a distance.¡± ¡°So why would you want them to be able to target you?¡± The dryad demanded. ¡°Because if they¡¯re linked to you, you¡¯re also linked to them.¡± Natalya added before Erebus could get another word in, ¡°Once you start targeting powerful mages then thaumaturgy of any kind is a terrible idea. They¡¯ll just pull the link open and send it back to whatever¡¯s causing the link. You¡¯d think that¡¯s safe, the object taking the hit for the mage, but when the spell is a stream of fire hot enough to slag a building¡­ you¡¯re getting hit regardless.¡± ¡°Thaumaturgy is the realm of small time assassins and find-mages.¡± Erebus added, before adding helpfully, ¡°Literally mages who are paid to find things. I hired one to help find the Tear of the Sun using Magus-Artificer Ente¡¯s own blueprints for it. It¡¯s surprisingly lucrative.¡± ¡°So by letting them get your blood you¡¯d be getting them to give away their location.¡± Holly concluded. ¡°Oh no, I¡¯d just use it to fill the building they¡¯re in with enough fire you¡¯d think a volcano had just erupted.¡± Erebus said stonily, eyes on the desiccated corpses, the cold rage in his eyes slowly dimming to curiosity. ¡°¡­that¡¯s odd.¡± Natalya turned to match his gaze, ¡°What¡¯s o- that is odd.¡± The necromancer walked over to the bodies which, now Holly paid attention, were starting to actually crumble to dust in front of her. ¡°The link¡¯s still active.¡± Erebus noted, stating the obvious quite possibly for Holly¡¯s benefit. ¡°Yes but what¡¯s it doing?¡± Natalya asked, hesitantly reaching for a crumbling corpse only for Erebus to grab her wrist. ¡°Careful.¡± He said slowly, ignoring his friend¡¯s death glare, ¡°That looks entropic in nature, you don¡¯t want to get caught up in it.¡± ¡°We might be able to trace the link.¡± Natalya hissed. ¡°You also might lose the hand.¡± Erebus said dryly, ¡°Whatever this is it was subtle enough two very skilled healers didn¡¯t notice it right under their noses. Risking your life is one thing, risking it on a long shot is another.¡± ¡°I can live with one hand.¡± The older necromancer snapped moving past waspish to outright hornetish, pulling her wrist free. ¡°Just be ready to cut it off if this goes wrong.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± Erebus agreed, the blade concealed in his travel staff appearing with a click, close to a foot of wickedly serrated steel turning it into a spear. If it did go wrong then it wouldn¡¯t be a very clean cut. If Natalya was put off by the sight of what was essentially a saw on the end of a stick she didn¡¯t show it, placing her hand on the collapsing ribcage as she cast her mind out, seeking whatever link the thaumaturge was using to continue this attack. She found nothing, which was impossible. Now she was looking for it she should have been able to sense the link even if she couldn¡¯t track it, but there was nothing, it was like a tunnel that had no ending and no entrance. Nat could feel something, the beginning of the thaumic bond but it went absolutely nowhere, less a link and more the tip of a loose thread. What she did manage was to find out what was being done. ¡°Vitae.¡± She gasped out as she pulled her hand away, the fingers ever so slightly withered, though that was fixed almost reflexively, ¡°They¡¯re draining vitae.¡± That, Erebus concluded, was a problem. Vitae, the very energy of life itself, was probably the most common energy used for spellcasting after mana, it was one of the most potent and also one of the most frowned upon given the way it allowed an out of control mage to turn other people into fuel for their spells. Short of smelting souls there wasn¡¯t much worse out there in terms of fuel. Erebus had had cause to dabble in both in desperate times, though the vitae he burned had mostly been his own. A mage of his calibre had a lot of life to burn, or rather he had. The end of the line was a lot closer now where he¡¯d drawn from that well once too often¡­ more than once if he were being honest with himself. So few mages were prepared to put their life into their spells that it had been an ace he¡¯d been able to play time and time again. Now he¡¯d have to have a dire hand indeed to use that card. ¡°Well that kills the illusionist theory, too hard to fake that. Why children though?¡± Erebus asked softly. It was a good question, though the necromancer wasn¡¯t discussing the moral component, just the mechanics of it, children were objectively one of the worst possible choices for draining vitae. Although vitae draining simulated aging in a grown adult, in a child they just withered away, having far, far less lifeforce to give, short of draining someone on their deathbed they were the dumbest target imaginable. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me. Some demons go in for the whole child sacrifice schtick but they don¡¯t get anything out of it, it¡¯s just for fear.¡± Nat offered, ¡°Though a decent number can devour souls, so that could be something.¡± ¡°Lana¡¯d have noticed a demonic heavyweight hovering around.¡± Erebus concluded with a shake of his head, ¡°Hmm¡­ soul-eaters¡­ well it¡¯s not a wraith, we¡¯re still alive. Terrain¡¯s all wrong for a ghast¡­¡± ¡°Pretty sure we¡¯re dealing with a mage.¡± His colleague said, ¡°The skillset to pull all this crap off is too varied to be anything else.¡± ¡°One of ours gone rogue do you think?¡± Erebus asked her, expression grave. ¡®Ours¡¯ in this case wasn¡¯t necromancers but Second Response. It was always a fear, Second Response mages¡­ weren¡¯t right in the head, and Erebus very much included himself in that for all he¡¯d gone independent. First Response was made up of hardened veterans, one and all, skilled in several magics and very regimented in both skillset and methodology. Second Response was what happened when you took that same mage and, using examples solely from Erebus¡¯ own career, had them face down a Wild Hunt using nothing but brinksmanship, get into mind-to-mind combat with a demon lord and get their soul torn from their body only to possess the person attacking them long enough to get them to impale themselves on their own ritual knife. Each and every one of them was a handcrafted masterpiece of esoteric knowledge, bizarre skills that had been developed because it was that or die and an approach to problems that involved a lot more going through than around. The problem with that mindset was that it tended to be obsessive. Noone threw themselves into that kind of danger again and again without a purpose, a good half were (fortunately) adrenaline junkies and thrillseekers. They tended to be the ones that died first. It was the other half of Second Response that was the problem. The ones that had a purpose. Sometimes it was as simple as wanting to help others, others it was about getting funding for some project or another ¨C Second Response paid well and there was almost nowhere else it was possible to run into so many experts in other disciplines ¨C or an oath followed, sometimes it was much as with Alice, a deathseeker doomed to disappointment. Whatever the reason, it was all too easy to go rogue, maybe the Council of Mages wouldn¡¯t let you begin human trials on a new healing method, perhaps someone had noticed the mage toiling in obscurity and offered them enough money to fund their project; in exchange for a small favour of course. Sometimes a person¡¯s moral code and Second Response¡¯s code of conduct just diverged fatally. It didn¡¯t matter what the reason was, what it meant was that a mage who could probably level a city if they really put their mind to it was roaming free with nothing to chain them down but their own conscience. Erebus resisted a shudder, he¡¯d rather have fought another Sidhe Lord, at least they were predictable. ¡°It¡¯s possible.¡± He conceded, ¡°But even in our circles chronomancy¡¯s a well-guarded secret. I know enough I could probably do it if you gave me a month to set up a ritual site, but I still haven¡¯t a clue how they¡¯re powering it.¡± ¡°Well they¡¯re draining vitae and smelting souls¡­?¡± ¡°Problem is they¡¯re also recreating those same people at the start of the loop. At best all that does is preserve energy so it isn¡¯t lost.¡± ¡°Do you think that¡¯s what is happening?¡± Natalya asked as she collapsed into a chair. The dust of the victims was already gone. ¡°Not enough information. For now we need to make sure one of us is with one of the town mages at all times, as innocent as they all seem¡­ we don¡¯t really have any other suspects. And we¡¯ve probably only got until nightfall until the loop resets.¡± ¡°What should I tell Alec?¡± Holly asked, the dryad looking more than a little grey at having watched a bunch of corpses decay before her eyes. It probably hadn¡¯t helped that so many had been around the age of her host. ¡°Just tell him to stay put and to report anything weird.¡± Erebus told her. ¡°Done, is there anything else I can do?¡± She offered. The necromancer rubbed at his eyes, trying to massage away a headache, ¡°Only one thing any of us can do right now. Wait and hope our foe makes an error.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 10 - Failure Is Mandatory It was two hours later. By that point there wasn¡¯t a single person over fifty and below twenty in the entirety of Valda. Natalya couldn¡¯t quite pinpoint the moment she¡¯d stopped even trying to save her patients, it had been at some point in the first hour, when the ambient mana in the air had begun to drop from just how much she was using. Evan was still going, and the necromancer was fairly sure he was using his own vitae and an expensive store of mana crystals to power through. She was tempted to try telling him to stop but every time she opened her mouth to try she¡¯d make the mistake of making eye contact, see the despair, the desperation and the sheer fanatical need and shut up. ¡°This time. It has to work this time.¡± The healer muttered, hand on another patient¡¯s chest. He wasn¡¯t using panacea anymore, Natalya wasn¡¯t sure what he was using and in any other circumstance she¡¯d have been fascinated. It was some sort of vitae shield from what Evan had said as complex a spell as any she¡¯d ever seen, and she¡¯d watched elementals think new life into existence, seen the Queen of Ice raise a fortress fully enchanted from the snow and listened as a orc shaman negotiated with a storm. She¡¯d even helped him test it, on himself, and been unable to drain a thing even when they¡¯d gone so far as cutting open his palm and letting her stick her fingers into the wound. The man was quite simply a genius, and it didn¡¯t matter a damn. Somehow the life was still leaving the victims. With a growl of frustration Evan pulled away as the young man on the table passed into the hereafter. That was his only reaction, already moving over to the next patient, reconfiguring the shield on the fly. Reluctantly Nat had to step in, ¡°Everyone¡¯s waiting on us Healer. Maybe they¡¯ve found something that will help?¡± She managed to sound a lot more optimistic than she felt. ¡°But-¡° Evan began, eyes on the next patient on the verge of death. ¡°You¡¯re not going to find it.¡± She told him bluntly, ¡°If what you¡¯re doing should work and isn¡¯t, then you¡¯re missing information. Unless your plan is to wildly guess until the town is nought but corpses you need to figure out what you¡¯re missing first.¡± The healer, slowly, reluctantly, nodded. ¡°Fine. Just wait outside while I store my equipment.¡± Even that proved a ruse and five minutes later she had to take him by the arm to lead him to Guardian Mill¡¯s house where the others were waiting, with the exception of Susan, the shadow was being kept hidden as only a shadow could. No orders had been given but then again none were needed, Susan knew her business and if there was a rogue mage lurking in the town she was best suited to find and eliminate them. Natalya pretended not to notice the hope on the faces of everyone other than Lana and Erebus as she walked in, though one glance at her face was enough to kill that. ¡°Nothing?¡± John asked, the geomancer appeared to have aged a decade in just a few hours, the defeated slump of his shoulders and the weariness in his voice doing what time had not. The difference had been stark enough they¡¯d tested him to see if he was being drained. He was, though the siphon was weak enough that so far it was just pulling from his magicka. That had at least clarified why it was the young and old dying first, as a general rule they had the smallest magicka supply, once it was emptied then whatever this was started on vitae. And the drain was only getting stronger, more ravenous as the strain was being shared between fewer people. ¡°Nothing.¡± Evan told him before adding, ¡°Arronn died.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry Evan.¡± The Guardian said, the words so terribly hollow and empty as they tried to fill a gap that could never be filled. ¡°Arronn?¡± Erebus asked Evan, polite but not mournful. It was John who answered, the healer¡¯s voice failing him, ¡°His son, Owain,¡¯s best friend.¡± The words were a sigh. Natalya decided to change the subject. If his son¡¯s best friend was dead then it was fully possibly the missing Owain was dead as well by now, whether upon the barrier, drained of life or simply dead for hundreds of years. ¡°The only new information out of the infirmary is that every countermeasure that should work hasn¡¯t even slowed it down. Everything about this screams blood magic but how it¡¯s linking to people I couldn¡¯t tell you. Evan even constructed a vitae shield spell, I don¡¯t think it even hit the shield.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve confirmed none of us are being drained.¡± Amara told her, indicating the rest of the team. ¡°Which backs up thaumaturgy of some kind. No channel, no spell.¡± ¡°That makes no sense.¡± Olivia protested, John¡¯s apprentice hadn¡¯t been faring well surrounded by so much death. Noone could blame her, as first brushes with mortality went this was a bad one, especially since she¡¯d been put in charge of stopping people from fleeing the town, as Erebus had feared a number had tried, a handful had even succeeded, though about half of those had come running right back as they watched their fellows turn to less than dust upon hitting the barrier. The young mage noticed the way people were staring at her. ¡°What? It doesn¡¯t? To do that the mage would have had to collect blood samples from every man, woman and child in Valda!¡± ¡°The mageling raises a good point.¡± Lana noted, ¡°Tell me John Mill, do you recall any incident or accident where someone might have obtained your blood?¡± ¡°Nothing comes to mind. Except Evan¡¯s yearly blood tests.¡± The geomancer replied gruffly. As one being the team turned their gazes to Evan. ¡°You can¡¯t honestly suspect me?¡± The healer protested, backing away with understandable fear. ¡°Two minutes ago I¡¯d have said you were above reproach.¡± Erebus told him, ¡°Now though, well, at minimum we have to ask a few questions, starting with what you needed the blood for?¡± ¡°Just medical check ups, I do know some blood magic, but all I use it for is letting me do some basic healing and checks at a distance. It saves time that¡¯s all.¡± He nervously explained, more than a little crowded by the hostile mages. ¡°I believe you.¡± The necromancer assured him, ¡°What happens to the blood once you¡¯re finished with it?¡± ¡°I burn it in the fireplace.¡± Erebus nodded, ¡°Good. Final question, do you have any active samples right now?¡± The healer nodded slowly, worried he was signing his death warrant, ¡°Well yes, I always have active samples, but they¡¯re kept in a triple-warded cabinet. Tell them John.¡± ¡°He¡¯s right, anything potentially dangerous in the infirmary is kept safe, if someone unauthorized tampered with it we¡¯d know, if they were lucky enough to survive the tampering.¡± Guardian Mill told them calmly. ¡°You both knew and you didn¡¯t tell us?¡± Natalya growled, beyond disgusted at this revelation. ¡°People are dying!¡± ¡°Of course I didn¡¯t tell you!¡± Evan protested. ¡°Everything points to a blood mage and I practice blood magic, do you really think I¡¯m going to admit that to a Council kill-team?¡± ¡°That¡¯s fair.¡± Amara butted in before Natalya could say or do something Evan would regret. ¡°How about we clear this up by just inspecting the samples?¡± ¡°That¡¯s certainly something we need to do.¡± Erebus agreed, ¡°But we should probably make sure we¡¯ve shared anything relevant before we check. Mage Illvere¡¯s interview work has at least given us something of a timeline to work from. At current rate of progression everyone who isn¡¯t a mage will be dead by nightfall. Illvere two hours after that. Mill and Evan by midnight. That isn¡¯t a lot of time.¡± ¡°I went house to house, no sign of any power source like you described.¡± John added helpfully. ¡°I¡¯ve got a theory on where all that magicka and vitae is going.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°If I¡¯m right we¡¯ll never find it.¡± ¡°What do you think it is then?¡± The geomancer growled, terribly aware that every second they spent talking the people he was sworn to protect were getting closer and closer to death. ¡°I haven¡¯t been entirely honest with you.¡± ¡°And as you can see I¡¯m about to faint with shock.¡± John replied dryly. ¡°You¡¯re right our response was a little too fast, from your perspective. From our perspective it was several centuries too slow.¡± Erebus told him, ploughing onwards. Now that he¡¯d made the jump there was little choice but to try and stick the landing, ¡°We believe that Valda is being kept in a section of looped time, unmoored from Reath and doomed to repeat the same day endlessly.¡± ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡± The geomancer scoffed, ¡°You can¡¯t just¡­ mess with time, it¡¯s not possible.¡± ¡°I assure you it¡¯s quite possible. As forbidden as any magic gets, but very possible. Frankly if you survive this you¡¯ll be expected to submit yourself to a memory edit.¡± ¡°Great Gaia wept. That¡¯s¡­ horrific, why should I get my mind wiped just because you told me something I shouldn¡¯t have heard? That¡¯s your fault, not mine.¡± ¡°I said you¡¯d be expected to.¡± Erebus replied calmly, ¡°If we survive this I intend to lie flagrantly on the report so you can relax there.¡± ¡°Say I believe you, how does this help us?¡± John demanded, and it spoke volumes of the last few hours that he was even entertaining the idea. ¡°I think this spell was started with a mass sacrifice. Our blood mage stole the life force of every person in Valda and used it as the fuel to drag the town back in time by a single day. The problem is if you have to be very careful with chronomancy, either our blood mage didn¡¯t know better or just didn¡¯t care enough to avoid it, and now that spell is echoing back through the entire loop. The effect preceding the cause.¡± Erebus stopped talking just long enough to make sure everyone was following along. They were. John was listening with grim horror on his face, lips pressed so tightly together it was a miracle he wasn¡¯t bruising them. Natalya was more composed, his friend had always been good at putting things aside until she was able to deal with them ¨C part of why her earlier outbursts had been so concerning. Amara was the most openly horrified, even more so than Holly. That didn¡¯t surprise him, he knew that she¡¯d fought in the Purge of Night and blood magic was almost a vampire¡¯s birthright, he¡¯d only read accounts of some of the things she¡¯d seen in that war and even he had found them disconcerting. Alice, he had to conceal a smile when he glanced at Alice, he knew that set in her jaw, no despair or horror here, just a smouldering fury that hoped more than anything that when they finally caught the scumbag responsible for this they¡¯d be foolish enough to make it a fight. Evan and Illvere looked positively ill. He could sympathise, it was one thing to face death, but it was another entirely to realise you¡¯d already been killed. ¡°That¡¯s why none of us can sever the link, we¡¯re trying to sever it in space when we need to be severing it in time.¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°You can do that?¡± Evan asked tentatively. ¡°No.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°But if I¡¯m right there will be a point where we exist in the same time as the link, if I¡¯m right we can sever it then, though to sever it for everyone we¡¯d have to do it at the point of casting. The problem is there would likely be energy available to recast the loop a final time and our blood mage just sets it back up next time through.¡± ¡°But you could be ready for them this time.¡± Illvere declared, and it almost killed Erebus to hear the hope in her voice. ¡°No. They can¡¯t.¡± John¡¯s words were barely a whisper but they might have as well have been a scream with how they carried. ¡°Because they won¡¯t be here.¡± His gaze met Erebus¡¯, practically pleading with the necromancer to tell him he was wrong. ¡°I¡¯m right aren¡¯t I? The Council are a buncha gits on the best day but they ain¡¯t stupid. No way they wait hundreds of years to send a team. How many have died trying to save us?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The necromancer told him, ¡°At least a hundred living. The initial response was¡­ large. When a First Response and Second Response team vanish without a trace, people take it seriously. I know the Necropolis lost two skeletal legions.¡± ¡°Gaia wept.¡± John shook his head as if trying to dislodge the thoughts there, and it very much was John Mill, slightly battered and world-weary mage looking to retire peacefully, rather than Guardian Mill, the resolute defender and final line of defence for Valda. ¡°We¡¯re dead then.¡± ¡°Not necessarily. We¡¯ve no way of knowing what those other teams found, but I know what we¡¯ve found. All we need is to find the blood mage and sever the links, do that and we live.¡± ¡°Except we¡¯re all going to be dead long before we can even find the links.¡± Illvere muttered bitterly. ¡°Not necessarily.¡± Amara declared, ¡°We can keep you topped up on magicka until midnight. It will be unpleasant but we can do it.¡± ¡°What about everyone else?¡± The young mage protested. ¡°Too small a well, we¡¯d have to be in near constant contact with a non-mage.¡± The vampire confessed. ¡°That and as more people die the burden gets greater, if it doesn¡¯t slacken near the end¡­ well we¡¯ll keep you alive but I can¡¯t promise you won¡¯t gain a few years.¡± ¡°Alive will do.¡± John rumbled, ¡°For now let¡¯s focus on catching this scum.¡± ¡°Maybe I can reconfigure my vitae shield to block a temporal link?¡± Evan suggested, ¡°Erebus you seem to have some knowledge of these things, perhaps you could assist me?¡± ¡°I¡¯d be delighted to, but I¡¯m going to warn you now, you do not want to mess with temporal runework, you¡¯ll have to power the spell yourself.¡± The healer¡¯s brow scrunched in befuddlement, ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Because runes affecting time aren¡¯t static things, they¡¯re constantly changing and if you haven¡¯t got the pattern down you¡¯re going to blow something up.¡± The necromancer said as if it were obvious. From Evan¡¯s reaction it certainly was obvious, the healer facepalming, ¡°Of course it never worked. I never even had a chance of getting it to work.¡± His exasperation palpable. ¡°Don¡¯t be too hard on yourself.¡± Natalya assured him, ¡°I mean no exaggeration when I call you a genius, you¡¯ve worked miracles in just a day. No one seriously expected you to unravel the mysteries of time itself by nightfall.¡± ¡°She¡¯s right.¡± Erebus agreed, ¡°Master healer, alchemist, runesmith, sanguine lord and an expert in defensive magics. I certainly hadn¡¯t achieved half as much by your age.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kind of you but I¡¯m a healer, we¡¯re all older than we look.¡± Evan deflected, the mage fighting hard not to blush. ¡°I know I was accounting for that.¡± He replied gravely. ¡°Now let¡¯s check on these blood samples and once you¡¯re cleared we¡¯ll talk about how to sever the links when the time gets close.¡± That drew the meeting to a close. The group filing slowly out of the room, though not before Natalya gave Erebus a knowing scowl. Sure enough the necromancer placed a gentle hand on John¡¯s shoulder as he stepped past, ¡°Guardian Mill, could I perhaps have a moment?¡± The weathered geomancer gave him a weary nod, settling back down in his seat as Illvere and Lana left, leaving the office empty but for them. ¡°This had better be good.¡± ¡°I might have been underselling my own skills with chronomancy a tad.¡± Erebus began, ¡°One way or another this loop has gone on long enough, so if we fail I plan to take out a little insurance.¡± ¡°Ominous.¡± John noted. ¡°Please continue.¡± ¡°I believe I can alter things so that you remember the events of this loop. It won¡¯t be an ongoing thing, so you¡¯ll only really get one chance but it¡¯s the best I can give you.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± His fellow mage assured him, ¡°So what does this- Ow!¡± ¡°Sorry. Didn¡¯t want to risk you moving.¡± Erebus explained, lower his hand, the spectral blue lance of light fading. ¡°And that was it.¡± He gave him a smile, offering his hand, which John shook. ¡°If this doesn¡¯t work out, good luck.¡± ¡°It¡¯s going to work out.¡± The geomancer replied, though even to his own ears the surety in his voice sounded strained. ¡°Of course.¡± * The infirmary was barely a couple minutes walk from the Guardian¡¯s office, both needing a fairly central location to be most effective, still even with such a short walk John and Erebus found they had missed a lot. Their fellow mages were crowded by the door though Natalya and Evan were missing, Lana barring access to anyone else as everyone tried to argue their way past. These weren¡¯t frightened townsfolk either, at least two of them if they decided they were going to move Lana could do so. The resulting fight would likely level the town if Lana took offence, but they could do it. As Erebus quickened his pace, noting his companion of the moment doing the same, not quite moving up to a run. It was one of those balancing acts the necromancer had long practice with, if a perceived leader ran then it was liable to unnerve those around them, a more steady pace was reassuring and implied the situation was well in hand. However sometimes situations were urgent enough a dead sprint was required. With no information as to what was happening they¡¯d both settled on a brisk walk. ¡°What¡¯s the trouble?¡± John asked, taking the lead. The imperious demoness stared down at him before stepping aside, utterly inscrutable, ¡°It would be best you see for yourself. Just yourself and my necromancer.¡± Erebus stepped through the doorway after John, almost bumping into him as the geomancer came to a sharp halt. Peering around him the dark robed mage took in the room, Evan was slumped against the wall, his head in hands as Natalya talked quietly to Susan, the two of them sat on infirmary beds. His fellow necromancer was weeping freely, the tears rolling down her face even as she carried on her conversation with not even so much as a hiccup in her voice. It was the kind of self-control he¡¯d admired in her back when she¡¯d led his squad, he still admired it now in fact. The ability to feel her feelings without letting them control her one jot. It had never been his path, emotions were something to be held at bay, to be packaged away into a box that would be taken out every now and then to be sorted during moments of quiet and safety. There had been precious few of those lately. Which was why his calm smile didn¡¯t fall by even a gnat¡¯s wing as he saw what had moved Natalya to tears, or rather realised what he wasn¡¯t seeing. The bed where Sato had lain was empty, the now familiar, slightly rumpled, collapsed bulge of bedding that had had its occupant simply vanish. It wasn¡¯t Sato¡¯s empty bed that had attracted John¡¯s attention though, it was Susan. The geomancer¡¯s gaze not leaving the shadow for even a moment as he slowly reached for his lightning wand. Erebus silently caught his wrist, giving a sharp shake of his head as he walked over to them. ¡°What happened?¡± Susan shrugged slowly, ¡°When I arrived here it was just Sato present. He was looking¡­ aged. He died so fast, and there was nothing I could do.¡± The necromancer nodded. It was arguably even worse for Susan than it had been for Evan. Evan could at least attempt to save someone, but all but the absolute greatest healers, true one in ten generation mages, could not heal someone without direct contact. Even he was careful when touching her, the spell to survive contact with a shadow was incredibly delicate if not powerful. ¡°How long did it take for us to arrive?¡± He asked, running the timeline in his head. It certainly couldn¡¯t have been long. ¡°Between five and ten minutes.¡± Susan told him. Erebus glanced at Natalya, ¡°We were gone what? Fifteen minutes at most?¡± ¡°Yes. Martyr¡¯s blood, this is my fault Ere. I forgot to ward the door.¡± His friend lamented. ¡°I doubt it would have made a difference.¡± He assured her, aware how empty the words sounded. ¡°For now let¡¯s get Amara in here, see if she can catch a scent, it¡¯s a long shot given the competence our mystery mage has shown so far but we have to try.¡± Natalya nodded, still crying as she stood up but eager to throw herself into the task. Whilst he waited for the results Erebus put an arm around Susan¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Nothing you could have done Sue, and not for the reasons you¡¯re thinking. See Evan there, the guy is a genius, a certifiable master of the healing arts and its adjacent magics, and he¡¯s had to watch over a hundred people die today. If he can¡¯t save them then you never had a chance. It is not your fault.¡± Susan laughed, the sound hollow, strained and just a little bit raspy, ¡°I know all that. It just doesn¡¯t make me feel any better.¡± ¡°Yeah. I know.¡± Erebus lapsed into silence after that. A minute later he got his answer, Amara walking over, the vampire¡¯s face practically grey, that surprised him a little, he hadn¡¯t known Sato and Amara were close. ¡°Nothing. The only recent scents are all in this room.¡± She said sadly. He just shook his head, it was afterall what he¡¯d expected. ¡°Thanks Mar, right then let¡¯s get this over with. Healer Evan, let¡¯s see to these blood samples please.¡± Evan slowly got up from the floor, the healer quite despondant and Erebus would judge just a little nervous that he was about to be summarily executed for letting their friend die. It was an almost laughable worry but one the necromancer could at least empathise with. The healer pulled aside a section of carpet, revealing a trapdoor, ¡°My lab.¡± He explained simply enough. As trapdoors went it was fairly imposing, two heavy bolts, a lock and a full set of wards, he¡¯d at least taken the security of it seriously. With four muttered spells, one of which Erebus was fairly sure was just a password and contained no actual magic, the wards were disabled. The click of a lock and the thud of bolts later and he was staring down a ladder at a dimly lit basement. ¡°Any other wards?¡± He asked Evan, receiving a quick shake of the head, ¡°Then I¡¯ll go first, just in case.¡± ¡°The wards were armed.¡± The healer protested, moving to go first only to be held back by Guardian Mill to his surprise. ¡°You aren¡¯t thinking about this clearly Evan,¡± John told him firmly, ¡°time loop remember. If this guy¡¯s really been here a couple of centuries then they¡¯d know the wards. Where do you want me Response Leader?¡± ¡°Second in line, I hold my staff on the left so go right to have a clear line of fire.¡± Erebus replied quietly, ¡°I¡¯ll be leading with entropics and kinetics on the assumption he has a shield.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go with lightning and wait for a fracture then.¡± John acknowledged. ¡°Evan, keep your shield up.¡± Preparation finished Erebus entered the laboratory, not using the ladder, the slow climb down would have made him a sitting duck. Instead he just jumped down, aegis shield glowing a brilliant azure and the tip of Yew¡¯s staff glowing the dreary green of a entropic spell. As he landed he rolled, partly to reduce the impact but mostly to clear the landing zone to let the grizzled guardian behind him in. John landed in a crouch, wobbled for a second then stood up, stepping right as agreed as their eyes swept across the dimly lit room. Nothing. With a murmur of effort Erebus sent out an invisibility purge. There were a number of way to end an invisibility spell, you could try to overload a spell with light, Amara had flames that could literally burn mana (which conveniently killed the person who was invisible in the process), you could send out a gentle pulse of chaos that would unravel and tangle such a delicate spell (the standard method). Erebus used what he already had, taking the blast of entropic death prepped in his staff and reforming it to send a general pulse of decay. Evan wouldn¡¯t like it much, anything that wasn¡¯t warded had probably been artificially aged by the pulse, but it was the easiest way and few people knew how to stop a spell from decaying once the rot had truly set in. The pulse revealed nothing. They were alone. That or trapped with an archmage beyond their ken, but if that were the case then they were already dead; there was no point in worrying about it. ¡°That was anticlimactic.¡± John noted with a dry chuckle, starting to relax. ¡°All clear everyone!¡± Now that he wasn¡¯t actively searching for a hostile mage, Erebus allowed himself to examine the lab while his colleagues began to descend after them. He¡¯d seen a lot of laboratories in his time, the rune-inscribed walls of demonic cultists, the beauty and artistry of their tools of trade all but hidden by dried blood they hadn¡¯t bothered to remove ¨C that was one of the really bad signs with demon summoners; a clean floor. He¡¯d seen the pristine steel and huge vats of Triple A as lumbering golems carried out experiments to standards so exacting a human heartbeat would have ruined them. He¡¯d even seen his master¡¯s lab, the imperator of shadows and madness had woven ideas out of the aether, nothing staying the same, or possibly even existing, for more than the moment needed to add it to what she was creating. This was none of those things but it was certainly well cared for. There was the obligatory desk in the corner, a filing cabinet next to it. A table filled with alchemical glasswork and though he was certain not a single piece of it was younger than a decade (small town budgets being what they were) they¡¯d been cared for meticulously enough he couldn¡¯t tell by looking. An oak cabinet glimmering with wards and full of potions on the opposite side to ensure that if, Martyr forbid, an experiment exploded it wouldn¡¯t reach the cabinet and take half the town with it. There was a small summoning circle in the corner, the floor swept clean and a cage of human height drilled into the concrete around it. This wasn¡¯t the red flag one would imagine, a lot of alchemists traded for demon nail clippings and blood with their owners and the circle wasn¡¯t large enough or complex enough to handle something seriously dangerous. What was interesting was that the circle was inert, further confirming their time-removed status. Finally there was a much larger cabinet. Row after row of phials of blood, each one neatly labelled. Some of them were glowing but not many. Not anymore. The rest had dried out, though one phial in particular caught his eye where it lacked a label. At a guess Evan had enchanted them that way so it would be clear from a glance if a patient had passed away. It truly was a glorious project, with this he¡¯d be able to check the entire town for a disease with a single spell, possibly even heal them remotely if he¡¯d practiced enough. ¡°Oh dear.¡± The healer said as he took in his magnus opus. ¡°I take it they shouldn¡¯t be glowing.¡± The necromancer concluded. ¡°They most certainly should not.¡± Evan agreed, rushing over to his life¡¯s work and beginning to unlock the wards, John stepping up to help him. That spoke of a paranoia Erebus could certainly appreciate, Evan knew just how dangerous this project was, dangerous enough he¡¯d made it so it took both the town¡¯s mages to unlock it to ensure neither of them could misuse it. ¡°Well that answers that. I do have one question though.¡± He began, smiling broadly, ¡°which of these phials is Sato¡¯s?¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 11 - A Long Delayed Confrontation ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Evan said slowly. The healer certainly looked befuddled by the question as he backed away towards the ladder and he wasn¡¯t the only one. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious Ere.¡± Natalya growled, stepping between them, ¡°I watched this man damn near kill himself trying to save these people, there¡¯s no way in all the hells he¡¯s the culprit.¡± ¡°John, how many people lived in Valda?¡± Erebus asked calmly. The Guardian took a couple seconds to answer, every bit as flummoxed by the accusation as Natalya but yet to work up to outrage due to sheer shock, ¡°Three hundred and thirty seven.¡± ¡°I count three hundred and thirty seven phials.¡± The necromancer explained only to sigh as he realised he really wasn¡¯t taking the room with him on this one. ¡°¡­Evan doesn¡¯t need one, anything he could do to the phial he could do to himself. So where did the extra phial come from?¡± ¡°Oh come on, that¡¯s ridiculous. Why would I do something like this?¡± Evan protested, ¡°You said it yourself, anyone could bypass the wards after so many chances to practice.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a good act, had me fooled for quite a while, but the flaws really are too large to ignore by this point.¡± The necromancer declared, whilst trying to step clear of his companions so he¡¯d have a clear shot at the healer, so far they weren¡¯t allowing it. Well except for Holly who had not only stepped clear but was working her way slowly behind him. ¡°I can¡¯t let you do this Ere. You¡¯ve no proof.¡± Alice told him, standing beside Natalya in solidarity. ¡°I¡¯ve more proof than you think. First and foremost¡­ he¡¯s too skilled. Even if Evan were the greatest prodigy the world had seen for generations there¡¯s no way he could master so many disciplines in his first century. And the runecraft is especially out of place. He¡¯s got alchemy gear, a summoning circle and a shelf full of blood magic, but I don¡¯t see an artificery, so explain to me how he was able to master runecraft?¡± Evan spluttered in disbelief, ¡°You can¡¯t honestly be about to murder me for being good at my job.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not much of a case.¡± John agreed slowly, on the verge of making his mind up. ¡°I¡¯d add that he had a shield for stopping vitae drain just ready to go. A spell like that takes years if not decades to develop.¡± Erebus added. ¡°And I¡¯m not going to murder you in cold blood for being unreasonably skilled, that would be just ridiculous. I¡¯m going to murder you because you killed my friend.¡± ¡°If I were this horrible killer why would I create a shield to stop it?¡± Evan protested, his back now to the ladder though he didn¡¯t dare climb up it. That would almost guarantee Erebus a clean shot and the necromancer seemed in the mood to take it. A point rendered moot a moment later as the necromancer telekinetically shut the trapdoor, the bolts sliding closed for good measure. ¡°Because I don¡¯t think you ever intended to hurt anyone.¡± The black robed mage told him evenly, even as he calculated whether he could get away with a parabolic shot over the heads of his friends without collateral damage. ¡°Tell me Evan, how did your son die?¡± ¡°What are you-?¡± ¡°I imagine it was an accident, a falling branch, a nasty fall, maybe he banged his head on a rock.¡± Erebus continued, speaking over the healer. ¡°No matter what it was I¡¯d imagine being unable to save him was agony. You know even a Healer First Class struggles with a panacea, could you even cast it back then?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about!¡± Evan yelled back, the outburst rageful enough it stunned those around him into silence. ¡°Oh I think you do.¡± The necromancer said sympathetically, ¡°At first I thought it professionalism, or a sense of duty, that you would labour so hard to save those around you rather than search for your boy. But you mourned him long ago didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Nothing I say will convince you will it?¡± The healer observed sadly, head bowed and defeated as he hid behind Erebus¡¯ allies, ¡°You really think I¡¯m some kind of monster.¡± ¡°All of this is just speculation Ere.¡± Amara pointed out, not actively interposing herself like her fellows but not exactly helping either. Susan was also staying to the sidelines, not out of a lack of interest but in these close confines the risk of killing someone by just bumping into them was far too high. ¡°What¡¯s not speculation is just two people had access to the blood when the loop started.¡± He said gravely, ¡°If it¡¯s not him then it¡¯s Guardian Mill, and my gut tells me it isn¡¯t Mill. And Mill was with me when Sato was killed, that just leaves Evan.¡± ¡°Evan was with me.¡± Natalya countered, ¡°And I think I would have noticed.¡± ¡°Would you? One small cut is all it would take. And were you with him the whole time?¡± Erebus pressed. ¡°Yes, right up until we left for the meeting where he¡­¡± The necromancer paused, ¡°had to do a few last minute checks while I waited outside.¡± ¡°Plenty of chance to start draining Sato then.¡± Her friend noted pointedly, lowering his battlestaff a little as he let her reach her conclusion. ¡°It still doesn¡¯t make any sense. Why would he spend all that effort on trying to save everyone?¡± ¡°Because he gets all that mana and magicka back when the loops resets, whereas you assisting him means he gets to siphon a lot of power from you before the loop wipes you from existence.¡± Erebus explained. There was a pregnant pause, then Natalya slowly stepped out of the way, a few moments later John joined her, leaving just Alice between Evan and annihilation. ¡°Natalya?¡± Evan pleaded, ¡°You can¡¯t seriously believe this?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure what I believe, but if he¡¯s wrong then you¡¯re going to be alive and well again in a few hours. If he¡¯s right then I¡¯d be sacrificing my only chance to live to protect someone who murdered my friend in cold blood.¡± She told him calmly. ¡°¡­John?¡± ¡°It¡¯s like he said, only two of us can access that cabinet. And I know for sure it wasn¡¯t me, all I want to know Evan is why you did it?¡± The geomancer going so far as to point his wands at the healer and just thirty seconds ago his closest friend. ¡°I didn¡¯t!¡± He yelled, desperate now, ¡°You have to believe me! For Sanitatem¡¯s sake John, why would I do something like this? What possible motive would I have?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± His old friend told him mournfully, ¡°But I suspect the necromancer is about to tell us.¡± ¡°That depends.¡± Erebus told them evenly, ¡°Al, are you going to step aside?¡± The shapeshifter gave him a level gaze, ¡°Someone with as much power as you have can¡¯t afford to be murdering people on a hunch, until you give us something better than circumstantial evidence I¡¯m staying stood right here.¡± ¡°We¡¯re getting a little short on time here.¡± The necromancer pointed out. ¡°We¡¯re always short on time, there¡¯s always people to save, a plague to stop, a city imperilled.¡± Alice shook her head, ¡°Doesn¡¯t change a thing.¡± She actually chuckled despite the tense standoff, ¡°I can see it in your eyes you know? You¡¯re wondering if you can blast through me without killing me. Wondering if I¡¯d forgive you. Wondering if you can bring yourself to do it. I suggest you keep wondering.¡± Erebus nodded slowly, turning his attention back to Evan, ¡°As I said, I don¡¯t think this was deliberate. I suspect you¡¯d been quietly experimenting with chronomancy for some time before this all started, nothing serious, maybe you could go back a few seconds, slow down time for a dying patient by a fraction. A little bit of extra time is practically the healer¡¯s mantra. Just a few more seconds and you might have saved them, every healer thinks that, especially one who, by your exclamation I assume attended the Sanitatem Institute.¡± Evan said nothing, just glaring at him, wild-eyed as anger and desperation warred behind his eyes. ¡°Anyway, your son dies. Nothing you could do to stop it. Maybe they arrived on your operating table already dead. It doesn¡¯t matter. Now most people would mourn, spend a few years broken by it, but you just happen to have enough illegal magical knowledge to be dangerous and access to a medical tool that can also be used to drain the life out of the entire town. How close am I?¡± Evan repeated himself, jaw visibly clenched to the point anyone who wasn¡¯t a healer would likely need to see a dentist afterwards. ¡°So you get your good friend John to unlock the cabinet, probably something about removing your boy¡¯s phial and burying it, and because he doesn¡¯t have a heart of stone he does so and while he¡¯s letting you have a few moments to yourself you kill the entire town. You rationalise it to yourself fairly easily, afterall it¡¯s not like you¡¯re really killing them, you¡¯re just going back in time by a day, no one will ever know.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know where you got the rest of the power from,¡± Erebus continued, ¡°and at this point I don¡¯t especially care. Maybe you¡¯d been saving for a rainy day, maybe you had some heirloom artifact, it doesn¡¯t matter, either way you managed it. You dragged an entire town back through time by a day. The problem is your son wasn¡¯t inside the town when the loop started, all that effort, that betrayal, all for nothing, and it gets worse.¡± Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The necromancer stopped for a moment to see if Evan would break his silence, he didn¡¯t, though his glare had moved from anger to sheer hatred. ¡°Because despite your dabbling you¡¯re not an expert on time magic, and that was a far bigger and more complex spell than you were able to handle, and now your friends, the people you were sworn to protect, are dropping like flies and you daren¡¯t tell a soul what you¡¯ve done. But if you just keep trying, can just keep the loop going, then maybe you can fix this, but there isn¡¯t enough energy to keep the loop active, people are dying sooner and sooner¡­ and just as you think all hope is lost¡­ Salvation! The Council comes to find out what¡¯s happening.¡± Erebus grinned at him, teeth flashing, ¡°I bet it never even occurred to you the first time. When the First Response team came blundering in to help, but the loop doesn¡¯t care what you want and you still haven¡¯t figured out how to stop it anyway. So they get killed and sure enough a Second Response team comes blundering in in search of them. ¡°And you¡¯re committed now. An entire First Response team dead? They¡¯d have your head on a pike, and if they¡¯re going to die anyway then it¡¯s not really murder right? So you kill them, drain the life from them and smelt their souls for good measure, and suddenly you¡¯ve got a power supply that will last years. It gets even better, because people just keep coming, entire legions of the undead you don¡¯t even have to feel guilty about. You¡¯re set for an age. ¡°The problem is that people stopped coming, and before we arrived you still were no closer to breaking the loop safely. Even assuming you murdered some truly powerful mages I¡¯d imagine that supply ran out ages ago, how many of the people missing at the start are in fact just because you smelted their souls to keep things running?¡± Finally Evan snapped, ¡°For someone I can wipe out of existence with a word you sure talk a lot.¡± Erebus smiled, far too satisfied at being vindicated, ¡°Finally done with the act?¡± ¡°I was hoping to get at least one more of you before the reset.¡± The healer admitted, ¡°Not that it especially matters at this point, you¡¯ve all been incredibly helpful, especially you Erebus. I should be able to break the loop within a few more attempts.¡± ¡°You¡¯re quite welcome.¡± The necromancer replied calmly, ¡°Of course you could just break the loop now.¡± The healer snorted in amusement at that idea. ¡°And have my friends despise me? Be cut down where I stand by Council thugs? I¡¯ll pass.¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling generous.¡± Erebus began before stopping himself, ¡°No that¡¯s a lie. I¡¯m not feeling generous at all, but I¡¯m prepared to hold my ire if you stop this now.¡± ¡°You think you can kill me? You said it yourself, I¡¯m a master of magics and I¡¯ve nearly an entire town¡¯s worth of energy to call upon if pushed.¡± Evan snarled, only to flinch as a stone the size of a small dog shattered on his shield, the aegis flashing into visibility as it stopped the spell. ¡°You scum-sucking, selfish, egomaniac!¡± John roared, another stone from the basement walls pulling free. Erebus couldn¡¯t help being impressed, he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d have been able to even lift this one without magic. Evan just batted it down to the floor with a small display of geomancy, only to follow it up with smoothing the walls of the basement with a whispered word, depriving his friend of easy ammunition. ¡°Oh do be quiet John, if you¡¯d listened to me that first morning none of this ever would have happened.¡± It happened so fast that Erebus barely even saw it happen, one moment John was opening his mouth to retort, the next he was convulsing on the floor, Natalya darting through the line of fire to try and stabilise him. ¡°Temporal acceleration and dread healing.¡± The necromancer observed, ¡°I do hope you¡¯re not trying to intimidate me.¡± ¡°Just trying to reason with you.¡± Evan told him in the too neutral tone of a man trying not to show their anger. ¡°You must see you are outmatched. I can reset the loop in a second, all of you will be gone. There is no way you win this, all your defiance does is cost more lives.¡± ¡°You have a proposal.¡± ¡°Let me drain your lives, at least then you¡¯ll actually be dying for something.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°You¡¯re right. I cannot stop you resetting the loop.¡± He glanced around at his friends, ¡°But I won¡¯t lay down and die for you. Anyone here want to?¡± Unsurprisingly there were no takers, even Holly had her hands raised and ready to fight, the dryad trying desperately to get the local trees to grow their roots into the basement. It would take ages, the trees had never felt a dryad¡¯s call before, the stone was thick and the mana needed to fuel it for Holly was like trying to drain a reservoir with a straw, her bond to Alec practically flooded with concern as her partner tried to practically forcefeed his magicka through the bond but if the standoff lasted long enough then it would be one hell of a sneak attack. ¡°I think that¡¯s your answer.¡± The necromancer growled, ¡°Now do your worst.¡± Evan did. ¡°Tempus redit.¡± The wave of magic burst out from Evan, a scintillating screen of blue energy that ignored the stream of mana-eating fire from Amara and barely shuddered from Erebus¡¯ burst of entropy. It spread out across the room in under a second, smothering the essence of the divine in Alice before annihilating her, passing easily through Natalya¡¯s aegis and Erebus¡¯ as well. It erased Susan from existence with ease and struggled for just a moment to handle Lana¡¯s armour of sin before it removed her from the timeline as well. Finally it reached the back wall where Holly stood, passing over her too. The dryad found herself simply floating in an endless void of ethereal blue as the wave continued onwards, presumably not stopping until it reached the wall erected around Valda. Across from her Holly saw Evan also floated, and he had unfortunately noticed her, his eyes wide with shock and terror. ¡°You can¡¯t be here.¡± The mage said, ¡°You can¡¯t be here!¡± He tried to cast something, anything, but it all died in that blue glow, retconned before it could ever truly exist. Desperately he tried to swim through the void, but there was no medium to pull against, leaving him flailing comically in the air. If it was air. There was a shattering sound, all-consuming and everywhere, as if Holly were surrounded by breaking glass, and then it was over. Everyone was back where they¡¯d been before the spell except Evan, the healer face down on the floor from his flailing. Amara made to leap for him but the healer was back on his feet in a flicker of too-fast motion, the vampire knocked into the walls with a wave of his hand and landing heavily in a heap. ¡°How did you-? That¡¯s impossible! You can¡¯t¡­! What are you?¡± The healer demanded, glaring at Holly with a burning hatred that made his antipathy for Erebus seem like a candle before a roaring fire. ¡°So who wants first shot at him?¡± The necromancer asked, another blast of entropy gathering at the tip of Yew¡¯s stave. Evan blurred, chronomancy giving them speed even a vampire would be jealous of, a moment later he had Alice pulled tight against him, a ritual knife to her throat, the old soldier deathly still in his grip, ¡°Try it and I give your friend here a crimson smile.¡± For the first time since arriving in Valda, Erebus actually looked scared, very slowly lowering his staff to the floor. ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this. It¡¯s not worth it. Please don¡¯t hurt them.¡± ¡°That¡¯s more like it.¡± Evan sighed, relaxing just a little, ¡°Now open the hatch and I¡¯ll push your friend back through once I¡¯m up.¡± The necromancer nodded, opening the hatch without complaint, ¡°Everyone do what he says. There¡¯s no need for anyone to get hurt here.¡± ¡°Finally.¡± The healer drawled, as he laboriously began to climb the ladder. It was a slow process, the mage having to step slowly backwards and keep their frail prisoner in place by raw strength. Even with how light Alice was the only way Evan was able to haul her up with him would be through a raft of physical enhancements, the mad healer clearly having turned his experiments upon himself at some point. ¡°See was that so hard? All you had to do was show a little bit of respect and everyone gets to walk away. Well nearly everyone.¡± In one smooth movement they drew the tip of the dagger across Alice¡¯s throat. There was a startled gasp from out of sight and the sound of a body dropping to the floor. Erebus sighed deeply, ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you.¡± Sure enough, as the necromancer practically sprinted up the ladder, Evan lay dead on the floor, eyes wide and uncomprehending, the healer skewered to the floorboards by a dozen spines that had erupted from Alice¡¯s back. The shapeshifter made a fairly comical if sad sight, Evan¡¯s collapse had hoisted her into the air by the spines she had killed him with, her face a rictus of agony as she fought not to scream, legs flailing helplessly in the air. The cut on her throat had already healed. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare laugh.¡± She growled through the pain. Her friend rubbed at his eyes in tired defeat, there was no comedy here for him, his friend was suffering and he¡¯d been unable to prevent it, ¡°All clear.¡± He called back through the trapdoor, ¡°Evan¡¯s down. Alice is alive. How¡¯s John?¡± ¡°Alive.¡± Natalya called back, ¡°I¡¯ve no idea what state he¡¯s going to be in once he regains consciousness though.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll get there when we get there.¡± Erebus replied, ¡°For now I want you to destroy those blood samples, have Mar incinerate them. Holly how¡¯s your bond right now?¡± ¡°I can feel him a lot stronger now, though it¡¯s still weak.¡± The dryad called back, ¡°Anyone mind telling me what just happened?¡± ¡°You saved our lives is what happened. I¡¯ll give the full explanation once I¡¯ve helped Alice back on her feet.¡± That was easier said than done, the shapeshifter obviously couldn¡¯t retract the spines or she would have done so and she had unfortunately done all too good a job of making them sturdy enough to penetrate bone, one of the spines had taken Evan in the forehead and hadn¡¯t stopped until it emerged from the back of his skull. No blade he had would be able to cut through them, and fire was a terrible idea, the heat needed would easily burn Alice as well. Water would have been ideal, a water jet from an experienced hydromancer could carve through steel through butter. Alas hydromancy was one of the magical arts Erebus had always struggled with, even after his master¡¯s tutelage, and he wasn¡¯t going to risk a slipup with a friend¡¯s life at stake. It was an interesting conundrum, shapeshifters were notoriously difficult to affect directly with magic so entropic spells were also out which was a pity really, Erebus potentially the greatest entropomancer on the face of Reath. Finally he settled on just taking a file from one of his robe pockets and began freeing Alice the old fashioned way, filing as close to her skin as he dared. ¡°You¡¯re taking the piss right?¡± The shifter grumbled as she realised she was going to be stuck there for some time, and worse still her colleagues were starting to climb up the ladder. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave you with wounds you¡¯ll have to heal, not in your condition.¡± Erebus explained, ¡°And there¡¯s no magic I have that I trust to do the job.¡± ¡°Bollocks to that. I¡¯m a big girl, I can take it, and if there¡¯s a little blood fine, I¡¯ll let the wound heal on its own, scion¡¯s honour.¡± Alice told him flatly. ¡°No. You¡¯ll wait until you¡¯re out of sight then heal it anyway despite the fact you¡¯re as likely right now to give yourself a tumour as you are a scab.¡± Her friend not buying even a word of it. To their credit the main emotion the group expressed upon seeing Alice was concern, with triumph and congratulations being a close second as they filed out of the infirmary, only Natalya and Ilvere staying behind to tend to Guardian Mill. Susan briefly offered to try and remove the spines with her devouring touch, but as with fire it was deemed too risky to Alice ¨C even the shapeshifter balked a little at the thought. As victories went it was a sombre one. There was no knowing if John would ever recover and the loss of Sato was felt deeply. Beyond that everyone was simply exhausted, Natalya eventually taking one of the infirmary beds whilst the rather rough treatment of Amara in the basement had left her hungry enough that she¡¯d disposed of the surviving blood samples by simply drinking them. Holly had her own things to do, more or less sprinting towards the boundary and Alec running to meet her once Erebus had given the go ahead. Every step made it just that little bit easier to breathe for the dryad, though she could already sense just how much the stress and strain of nearly a day disconnected not just in space but time had strengthened the bond. Ultimately it had taken several hours to slowly file Alice free, the old woman visibly pained and hunched now as she walked and Erebus so exhausted he took a nap of his own as soon as she was free. Oathkeeper - Chapter 12 - Reminiscence & Recrimination Morning came reluctantly, or so it seemed, it certainly didn¡¯t feel like a victory. Of near four hundred souls only twenty-four remained and they were in poor health, aged into decrepitude despite being in the prime of their lives. Valda was dead and the kindest thing that could be said about the efforts to save it was that the death zone would claim no further victims. It fell to Ilvere to rally the townsfolk and to seek help for them. That proved the first bone of contention. ¡°What do you mean I can¡¯t tell the Council?¡± The journeymage geomancer demanded, not quite stamping her foot, which admittedly was a far more imposing gesture from an earth mage, earthquakes were not unknown in a fit of pique. Erebus rubbed at his face with the heel of his hand as he tried to figure out how to phrase things delicately. He was already missing Guardian Mill, for all the grizzled geomancer had been an obstinate and obstreperous ally he had also had his own brushes with death and had likely guessed a fair amount of what he would now have to tell Ilvere just to try and keep her on-side. ¡°The reason we came to Valda was that there¡¯s a warrant for my arrest.¡± Erebus decided to lead with the truth, ¡°We didn¡¯t come here to save anyone, we came here to stay out of sight long enough for us to make a plan of action on how to prove my innocence.¡± ¡°I can just leave you all out of the report.¡± Ilvere said hurriedly, ¡°My people need help!¡± ¡°They¡¯d never buy that. The Council is not the divided and ineffective mess you recall, not anymore. There would be a full investigation if a death zone were to open up without warning. Our presence would be discovered almost instantly.¡± ¡°Then what? You want to leave the town to die?¡± Ilvere demanded, brandishing John¡¯s lightning wand. Not facepalming was probably one of the hardest things Erebus had ever done, instead opting to simply tug the wand out of her hand with telekinesis and lay it calmly down on the desk. It wasn¡¯t entirely her fault, that sort of posturing had worked for John but there was a vast gulf between the two. For starters a mere telekinetic tug wouldn¡¯t have been enough to pry the wand from his fingers. The gruff geomancer had been enough of a threat that actually coming to blows with him would have been enough of a fight they could ill afford it. Ilvere on the other hand¡­ it was probably for the best she never learned just how easy it would have been to kill her and have done. It was the logical course of action and he was surprised just how little he was tempted. The goal afterall had been to have a safe base of operations, not to rescue the town ¡°No. We¡¯re going to do what we can for them, but, frankly, there¡¯s little left to save. The Council might arrange for the survivors to have some vitae restored to them but¡­ they¡¯re not critical assets and as much as we could really use a feel good story right now, pumping over a thousand years of extra life into civilians is probably more than they¡¯re prepared to do.¡± ¡°Wait they can reverse aging now?¡± The geomancer spluttered, stunned at the idea. Erebus gave her an amused look, ¡°We¡¯ve been able to reverse aging since well before you got trapped, it¡¯s only proliferated recently. It¡¯s still about as intensive as a spell gets and few can cast it without using their own vitae to power it, which rather defeats the point.¡± ¡°Surely if there¡¯s a chance¡­¡± Ilvere tried, voice trailing off in the face of Erebus¡¯ stony expression. ¡°We can¡¯t. I¡¯m going to be explaining the situation to my friends just after we¡¯ve finished the funeral for Sato, you¡¯re welcome to attend. It should clarify the stakes at least.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± She growled in a fairly good imitation of her boss. ¡°But if I don¡¯t like what I hear I¡¯m calling for help.¡± The necromancer chuckled at that, shaking his head as he turned for the door, ¡°My dear Ilvere, I would be concerned if anyone likes what they¡¯re about to hear.¡± * Deciding where to finally lay out the state of play had been a difficult choice. The infirmary had been the only building with much floorspace but no one particularly wanted to spend a second more there than they had to after yesterday¡¯s events. The houses had also been ruled out, even by necromancer standards it was macabre to just cram into someone¡¯s home within a day of them dying. They¡¯d settled on the graveyard, now in much need of expansion. With no bodies to bury there was no need to dig a grave for Sato and Ilvere had been kind enough to raise a headstone from the earth, a fairly grandiose column of what Erebus suspected was gneiss but he was neither geomancer nor geologist to be sure. The geomancer had managed a number of these tributes to the fallen before having to collapse against one and take a break, he could sympathise, earth magics were, perhaps naturally, very heavy work. ¡°I honestly thought he¡¯d outlive all of us.¡± The necromancer admitted as he stared up at the column. ¡°If you¡¯d asked me if there was just one person I was sure would make it out of this alive it was Sato.¡± ¡°That at least addresses one of my concerns.¡± Natalya said from next to him, her gaze matching his. ¡°You thought I¡¯d sacrificed him?¡± He asked gently, not so much hurt at the suggestion as merely sad, deeply and truly. ¡°Time was running out.¡± She replied with a shrug, ¡°and I¡¯ve seen you make cold-blooded moves before.¡± ¡°Well I didn¡¯t. Not this time. I wasn¡¯t even considering Evan as a suspect until we found Sato dead.¡± Erebus shook his head, the motion slow and weary. ¡°I¡¯m getting soft. I should never have taken his helpfulness at face value. I should have questioned-¡° ¡°Wait how are you the one having a crisis of faith here? I¡¯m the one who spent the best part of a day working with that psychopath. My intuition never so much as twinged.¡± Natalya groused. ¡°I guess we¡¯ve both started to lose it in our dotage.¡± ¡°Guess we are. Truce?¡± She asked, more tentative than Erebus could remember hearing in all their years. Then again she had accused him of using his friends as little more than pawns on a chess board. ¡°Truce.¡± He agreed. Of course soon he would have to tell her that she¡¯d been right. They weren¡¯t the only ones mourning. Amara and Alice were locked in their own conversation. ¡°At least he didn¡¯t have a family, that¡¯s a mercy.¡± Amara opined softly, the vampire helping to support Alice as she hobbled to the column. ¡°Is it?¡± The shapeshifter inquired, a certain flintiness in her words and her eyes. ¡°No. I suppose it isn¡¯t.¡± The vampire admitted. ¡°He was a very lonely man, you know? Too burdened by conscience and the curse of his ability.¡± ¡°Curse?¡± Alice inquired politely, as ostensibly the youngest (besides Alice and Holly of course) even if physically the oldest, she¡¯d known Sato the least. ¡°His foresight. Imagine you got a second chance with every single conversation, people become very easy to manipulate, it¡¯s why he never spoke much. I don¡¯t think he dared ever date someone.¡± ¡°You could always just not manipulate them?¡± The shapeshifter suggested. ¡°Really? You could upset someone you like, be able to fix it and just choose not to? Every time?¡± Amara shrugged, ¡°Hells the only reason I know that much is he got drunk one night, after the Anterion Debacle. Let me tell you, being able to see the future doesn¡¯t help your balance much after eight pints.¡± Alice chuckled, ¡°I wish I¡¯d been there to see that. What are we going to do about the practical implications?¡± ¡°Bloody hellfire Al, his body¡¯s not even cooled yet.¡± Amara hissed. ¡°Your friend is right.¡± A quiet voice replied from by the vampire¡¯s elbow, the creature of the night managing half a foot of ground clearance as she bounded away in shock before glaring at the demoness speaking. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°You have no right being able to move that quietly in armour.¡± She said testily, clutching at her unbeating heart. ¡°Actually how are you moving that quietly? I can¡¯t even detect a heartbeat.¡± ¡°Muffling charm.¡± Lana said simply, unapologetic and unabashed. ¡°And you were eavesdropping on us because¡­?¡± ¡°I needed to know what you were all thinking, and if you were taking the precognizant¡¯s loss with the seriousness it deserved. I¡¯m glad at least one of you is.¡± ¡°Our friend just died.¡± Amara snapped, and it was only Alice¡¯s sudden grip on her arm that stopped her swinging for the demon¡¯s jaw. ¡°Yes. He did. And without him you are all so much more vulnerable. You just lost the most perfect early warning system that the gods, devils and sidhe could ever devise.¡± Lana told her flatly, ¡°You think me unaffected by his death, I am not. I am terrified because our safety net is gone. No more second chances. No more near misses and that was closes. From now on if the opposition gets it right then you die.¡± ¡°Is that all he was to you? A safety net.¡± The vampire hissed, trying to pull forwards but Alice¡¯s grip was like a thin clamp of adamantium on her forearm, the shapeshifter keeping her own council but the contempt in her glare at Lana said more for her opinion that a thousand novels ever could. ¡°Of course. I knew him barely a handful of days, if that, Arcadian time being what it is.¡± The demoness shrugged, ¡°I think of you all in terms of your utility to my purpose. By that measure I feel Sato¡¯s loss deeply, he was easily the most valuable of you all.¡± ¡°So which of us is the least valuable?¡± Amara demanded, a nearly strigoi like hiss of barely suppressed hatred. ¡°The daughter of oblivion.¡± The demoness told them without hesitation, ¡°She¡¯s too afraid of her own power to be useful.¡± ¡°You really are a heartless monster.¡± The pyromancer snapped. ¡°Yes.¡± Lana smiled, sarcasm practically dripping as she added, ¡°I got trained by an imperator to bodyguard the necromancer because I don¡¯t care about people. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t care bloodsucker, it¡¯s that I don¡¯t care about you.¡± Alice held her tongue until the devil had stomped over towards Erebus and Natalya, ¡°I¡¯m going to guess her training was unpleasant.¡± ¡°I certainly hope so.¡± Amara growled as they did the same. The last few stragglers to the funeral were those who had known Sato the least, Susan for all she¡¯d been a peer of the taciturn mage had never interacted with him much and after she¡¯d been pulled through the shadowgate not at all. That was how she¡¯d ended up with what she was, perhaps uncharitably, thinking of as babysitting duty. Alec and Holly were in fairly high spirits, the duo had set up camp on the outskirts of Valda, Alec choosing to sleep the night in his tent whilst Holly had slept on the grass besides it, though it had taken the two some time to get to sleep as the dryad had caught Alec up on events. Enough time in fact that Susan had had to more or less scream to wake them up, unable to just shake them awake. Still for all that they were groggy there were animated and not as sombre as one might expect. This was neither¡¯s first great tragedy, not even their first this year, and much like Lana they had only known Sato a few days. ¡°¡­and Alice was stuck flailing in the air like a beetle on its back.¡± Holly concluded, finishing the last o the catchup as Susan did her best not to laugh. Alec was making no such effort, openly guffawing as the cemetery came within view. ¡°Well at least now I know what that blue flash was.¡± The teenager said once he¡¯d managed to get his laughter under control. ¡°I wish I did.¡± Holly grumbled, ¡°Erebus isn¡¯t exactly forthcoming on the details.¡± ¡°He¡¯s trying to keep you safe.¡± Alec explained, or at least thought he did, then paused as he realized why she wasn¡¯t getting it, ¡°Oh yeah you weren¡¯t there for it. Even knowing about time magic carries a death sentence, he might be planning just to evade questions until the end of time.¡± Susan shook her head, then realised that as a living silhouette that was barely noticeable, the body language of mortals yet to fade in her. It was a chronic problem of the undead, and Susan herself was now¡­ undead-adjacent was perhaps the best term, the slow distancing from the habits of the living. Vampires had it easiest, as humanitarians, a joke that had apparently never gotten old, they constantly had to interact with people and thus such simple habits as breathing and slouching stayed up to date and relevant. Liches had it perhaps hardest or at least most dramatically, it took a fairly obsessive personality to become a lich, dedication to a craft for starters, talent in spades and severe dedication. This naturally continued into undeath and it was not uncommon for a lich to disappear for several decades only to announce the success of a research project people had long forgotten had even begun; or in particularly embarrassing cases been completed by someone else thirty years ago. Such isolation meant they soon found their perspectives almost totally alien to the mortals that surrounded them, a well meaning lich would invite an inquisitive mage into their alchemy lab only to watch in total confusion as they collapsed from the toxic gases there. The fact it was such a well known problem was a good thing really. It meant that the Umbral Temple hadn¡¯t been starting from scratch when trying to figure out how to handle Susan¡¯s new post-human perspective. They¡¯d brought in experts, or rather sent their own people out to get trained into experts. There was no way in all the hells that they were trusting an outsider with the knowledge that a shadow now walked Reath. They barely trusted their own people with it. Susan wished they¡¯d trusted people more. It had been almost pure luck she¡¯d found out Nightblades had been dispatched for Karatas and she¡¯d had to cross almost a third of Contemnere in a single night to get there in time, flitting from shadow to shadow with a speed that only desperation could bring. She wasn¡¯t sure she could do that again if she tried. Partly because of how taxing it had been for the insubstantial substance that now passed for her body, mostly¡­ now she knew she could do that it scared her, just how natural it had been to enter a shadow from one end and leave from the other, cross to the next and be gone in an instant. It had made her feel distinctly inhuman, especially as her shape had begun to deform during the journey. That was one of those things she tried not to think about, it hadn¡¯t taken long for her to realise the only reason the silhouette she cast on the world was human was because she desired it so. That the strange body she¡¯d been given had a number of abilities beyond consuming any living thing it touched, abilities that she had very carefully chosen not to explore despite a lot of pressure from the Umbral Temple¡¯s leadership ¨C at least those sections of it that weren¡¯t utterly terrified of her. She was interrupted from her musings as she realized her wayward charges had gotten well ahead of her. Perhaps she wasn¡¯t keep up appearances as well as she¡¯d hoped if she was zoning out that easily, still as much as the opportunity to say so had passed she was still convinced that Erebus would follow through on explaining. She¡¯d never known him not keep his word. And though she knew she was biased, being rescued from having your soul devoured by an eldritch horror that other eldritch horrors would describe as ¡®unpleasant to deal with¡¯ would do that, she trusted Erebus implicitly. That was one of the other things that worried her, the way Natalya was treating him like a theoretically stable alchemical that had just started fizzing. She didn¡¯t want to have to kill Nat but if the veteran necromancer actually tried to make a fight of it¡­ well she knew who she¡¯d choose. She wished that decision was one she¡¯d make out of loyalty but there was another aspect to it, a more shameful one. The spells Erebus had used to drag her out of the shadowgate he¡¯d outright refused to share for fear that the Temple would launch a(n almost certainly doomed) crusade against the shadows that dwelled there. That meant that, up until the moment she¡¯d met Lana, the necromancer had been the only person physically able to touch her. She¡¯d been a fairly tactile human being and that hadn¡¯t changed, going years without being able to touch someone had been hard. The thought of losing Erebus, of never being held again, the pain was almost physical, though no longer totally hopeless. She needed to talk to Lana to find out just how common it was that demons could touch her if not safely then at least nonfatally. Ahead of her Alec and Holly briskened their pace to finally draw level with the others congregated around Sato¡¯s grave. At least the teenagers hadn¡¯t interrogated her, according to Erebus, and Alice, they were very much in the habit. Still even that was a mixed blessing, because she had to wonder how much of that was to blame on her cursed state. The trip through Avalon had probably been harder on her than anyone, at least in Susan¡¯s own opinion, for the first half hour she¡¯d tried everything in her power to be noticed. She¡¯d screamed, she¡¯d yelled, she¡¯d even gone so far as to try and shake Erebus in a moment of desperation and panic only to phase right through him, even less substantial than the least of ghosts. Worse they hadn¡¯t even realized she was missing, that had hurt the most. Of course it hadn¡¯t taken her long to realise there was some sort of memetic effect in place, altering the memories of those around her so that she might as well have never existed. The relief when they¡¯d left Arcadia had been indescribable, as had the fear that she was going to step through that portal and still be less than the least of wisps, doomed to float unnoticed through an eternity she could only observe but never partake. Slowly Susan took her own place at the grave, hanging back so that an accidental brush with one of her companions didn¡¯t rend them from reality, as Erebus began his eulogy, going first out of unspoken agreement. ¡°More than any of us I think, Sato was a good man. A kind man and a patient one. I¡¯ve heard it said that to whom much is given much is expected, and Sato met every expectation anyone ever could have had of him. It would have been all too easy for anyone with a power such as his to become a great dictator of the age, able to manipulate those around him as if they were little more than puppets on strings but Sato chose a different path.¡± Erebus pursed his lips, fighting for a few moments to keep his composure, ¡°One of service, one of help and one of duty to others. To, in his own words, gently massage the timeline into its better self and he had a gentle touch indeed, keeping himself apart from events unless needed. It made him a very hard person to connect with even at the best of times. Too afraid of his own power and the ease with which it could be abused, how many of us, if given our chance again, would stop our squabbles before they happen? I¡¯m not sure I could have but Sato did, every day, and I hope that whatever lies beyond the Veil it is of such superlative quality his gift is never needed again.¡± There was a solemn silence, Sato¡¯s friends remaining in stony silence as they waited for someone else to speak but no one seemed to have any other words. What was there to say afterall? That it shouldn¡¯t have happened? That went without saying. That it had been unfair? Unfair was where their job started. That he would be avenged? Alice had already done that and damn near crippled herself in the process. When the silence had finally moved from respectful to uncomfortable Erebus let out a sigh, allowing his shoulders to slump a little, ¡°I suppose it¡¯s time I told you all the truth as promised. We¡¯ll wait a moment for Ilvere to join us and then begin.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 13 - A Plan & A Window On A War Of all the tribunals that Erebus had faced, and there had been more than his fair share, this would perhaps be the hardest. Temporal authority had always been an easy thing to face down, their expectations no weight at all, their ire the dullest of blades. The judgement of his friends however was proving a heavy weight indeed and one he could not, as he so often, too often, had, overcome by force. There was a rhythm to a good reveal the necromancer knew, it was important not to bombard the recipient with too much information at once, to let the facts linger and settle before breaking fresh ground, and they had a lot ground to cover. ¡°Normally with events such as these I¡¯d start at the beginning,¡± He began, taking all his doubt, uncertainty and fear and shoving it aside forcefully, ¡°however in light of last night¡¯s events I suppose I should begin with how we all survived as well as commend Holly for her part in achieving this happy state of affairs, I¡¯m aware it was not easy having the bond under such constant strain. ¡°I¡¯ll be quite honest, I did suspect chronomancy before we arrived in Valda. It was one of four possible options I believed could swallow so many mages of such a calibre without trace. The key to our survival was the barrier. I noticed that it only seemed to seal itself against a person once they had fully crossed over and was thus only able to affect distinct and whole entities. ¡°By having Holly on one side of the barrier and Alec on the other, part of Holly¡¯s soul never crossed through and therefore when Evan reset the loop the spell found itself having to deal with an entity it could not properly parse. Evan, having never conceived of such an edge case, and having never had formal training in chronomancy, had not designed the spell to handle an exception to its criteria and it expended itself in its entirety trying to solve the problem and, as temporal magic is want to do collapsed as if it had never happened. Any questions?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got one.¡± Amara began, ¡°Why in Vulcanus¡¯ sacred name didn¡¯t you tell us we weren¡¯t in danger? I was convinced we were going to die!¡± ¡°It had to seem real.¡± Natalya concluded, ¡°If we weren¡¯t scared Evan might have suspected he¡¯d been outplayed and that his trump card was useless. He¡¯d had what¡­. four, five hundred years to train himself with no regard to ethics? He could probably have faced down an archmage if he¡¯d had to. You saw what he did to Mill.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t he do the same to us?¡± Holly asked bemusedly, ¡°If he can just make people drop like that¡­¡± ¡°Oh he tried.¡± Erebus said with a laugh, Natalya nodding along, ¡°Nat and I are skilled enough healers that we can counter dread healing, Amara¡¯s a vampire, Lana¡¯s a demon, you¡¯re a dryad, Alice is downright immune to healing magic and Susan¡­ even I don¡¯t how to heal Sue.¡± ¡°Hell of a gamble though,¡± Lana mused, ¡°You had no way of knowing he¡¯d lead with chronomancy.¡± If Natalya had had a drink she¡¯d have snorted it out of her nose with laughter, ¡°Of course he did. Why risk a fight with mages of unknown power when you can just press the ¡®I win¡¯ button? You¡¯ve got a lot to learn about people demon. It¡¯s why he more or less went to pieces straight afterwards, he pulled out a spell not seen since the gods were still alive and we more or less ignored it. From his perspective that would have been terrifying.¡± ¡°Almost as terrifying as him pulling out that spell in the first place.¡± Amara groused. ¡°That¡¯s the long and short of it,¡± Their fearless leader admitted, ¡°if Evan had thought for even a moment that we might be able to beat his time loop he¡¯d have made a fight of it and if he¡¯d killed Holly then we all died. Now to the important things. Let¡¯s start with the prophecy.¡± ¡°Before you start with dire portents of doom, how do we know it¡¯s real?¡± Natalya demanded, not unreasonably, fake prophets, seers and soothsayers were practically an industry in themselves. ¡°Well it was cast by three retired archmages and they showed me the artifact they detonated to pierce the skin of time.¡± Erebus said, it was close enough to the truth. ¡°And the voice was¡­ well let¡¯s just say it stuck in the mind in ways I¡¯m not entirely comfortable with.¡± ¡°Their voice does that.¡± Lana growled, ¡°My master finds the choir of The Duality quite grating.¡± ¡°The Duality?¡± Natalya inquired politely though there was certainly a tad more than professional interest there. ¡°Another imperator?¡± The demoness laughed, ¡°Not even close, they could crush my Lady as if she were a gnat if they had the inclination. Though they¡¯re seldom inclined to do anything.¡± Before Natalya could get more irate at the not-quite-an-answer, Erebus intervened, ¡°They go by many names Nat. You¡¯d know him best as Fate. Only Fate can speak in the voice of true prophecy.¡± ¡°And only Luck can break it.¡± Lana added solemnly, glancing up at the sky as with fear that she might have drawn her attention. ¡°The green-eyed one is a being at great conflict with themselves yet perfectly in balance as well.¡± ¡°I feel like I should argue there but I frankly haven¡¯t the energy.¡± Natalya conceded, ¡°So what was in this prophecy?¡± Erebus nodded once took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but it wasn¡¯t his voice that came out, and going from the sudden alarm in his eyes that wasn¡¯t something he¡¯d planned at all. ¡°The last of the first shall come to sun¡¯s aegis to weep her final tears. The mother of statues shall be reborn by the blood of the dreamer. All doors shall shut and all foes forsworn as the new blade shatters. Then the chains shall tremble, the chains may break, for they were doomed in the chainbreaker¡¯s death. When the painting slew the painter and their legacy became liars duty Yet should the last chain fall then darkness shall rise Eternal enemy, annihilator, corruptor, the siblings of the first gods shall have their silence.¡± As the words came to a close Erebus rubbed concernedly at his throat before adding, in his own voice, ¡°I see what Pheus meant, that is distinctly uncomfortable.¡± ¡°It also sounded like gibberish, have you got a translation for those of us who don¡¯t speak fluent riddle?¡± Naturally it was Nat asking the question. ¡°Something will wipe out Seruatis and then the rest of the world because I died.¡± Erebus declared, blunt as a hammer to the skull. ¡°How in the hells do you get that out of it?¡± Alice snorted, shaking her head. ¡°I have it on good authority that sun¡¯s aegis is Seruatis itself and that I am, apparently, the chainbreaker. Who here knows what an aetheric chain is?¡± Lana raised a hand, smirking, as well as, somewhat surprisingly, Amara and Alec. That certainly got the teenager shocked stares, even from Erebus. ¡°What?¡± Alec snapped defensively, shrinking under their combined gazes, ¡°It was in the Seruatis library.¡± There was a loud smack as Erebus¡¯ face met the heel of his hand, ¡°Okay. Moving past the fact I need to have a long discussion with Dus about appropriate reading materials for young mages-in-training, aetheric chains are¡­ let¡¯s start with divine artifacts. Every single one of them was handcrafted by a divine being and they enforce a rule. Could be anything from ¡®cheese is delicious¡¯ to ¡®seventh sons are unnaturally strong with magic¡¯ to ¡®elves are haughty¡¯, the point is that as long as the chain exists that rule simply is.¡± ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± Natalya retorted, ¡°That would mean¡­¡± ¡°-that free will is more or less a concept we came up with to delude ourselves?¡± Erebus suggested gently, ¡°That we have spent our entire lives dancing like puppets to unseen strings? That we may never have made a genuine choice in our entire lives? There¡¯s a reason these things haven¡¯t been made common knowledge. Forget the panic. Imagine the nihilism.¡± ¡°Why haven¡¯t they been destroyed?¡± The other necromancer demanded, ¡°I thought you of all people-¡° ¡°Why do you think I¡¯m the chainbreaker in the prophecy? Apparently I hold the record, and that record isn¡¯t impressive. Just three.¡± ¡°They¡¯re important aren¡¯t they?¡± Alice asked slowly, steel gaze softened by quiet thoughtfulness. ¡°That¡¯s why breaking them ends the world.¡± ¡°Some of them are.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°You¡¯ve got some frankly evil ones, literally one of the ones that got broken, not by me, is that ¡®people worship gods¡¯. The Martyr broke that one. But some of the others do things like set the magical properties of sunlight and the speed of sound so visiting devils and sidhe can¡¯t alter them. For all they were designed to ensure a race of malevolent super-beings ruled indefinitely, they were actually a step away from ¡®might makes right¡¯ believe it or not. Sad but true.¡± ¡°What were the ones you broke?¡± Holly asked curiosity fighting with the sudden, overwhelming reminders that she was a very small fish in a very, very big pond. ¡°Necromancers are obsessed with immortality, dwarves live underground and elves live in forests. The last two are almost pointless I¡¯m afraid, not a dwarf lives in this world or any other and like all the long-lived the elves are slow to change.¡± Erebus raised his hands in frustrated defeat. ¡°How hard was it?¡± Natalya demanded, steel in her voice. ¡°Hard to find, harder to identify what the chain did and guarded so well you¡¯d have better luck fighting to the fifth floor of the Wraith Vault. In fact I¡¯m almost certain there¡¯s more than one chain at the bottom, and that¡¯s if the enchantment that maintains it isn¡¯t in fact a chain. But to answer your real question, each was the work of years and even with meticulous planning I nearly died. That¡¯s not including the chains I found that I chose not to destroy, and who¡¯s defences I then had to re-erect.¡± ¡°Why would you-?¡± His erstwhile mentor began. ¡°They don¡¯t exactly come labelled. I was unfortunate enough to stumble across one of the Leviathan Chains, you remember about twenty years ago where I just disappeared for two years? I was putting the defences back on that one. I¡¯d like to think I did a good job. I hope I did, for all our sakes.¡± ¡°Why do I have a worrying feeling I know what a Leviathan Chain does?¡± Alice asked, a visible shiver running through her though it could have just been the cold morning air. ¡°Because you¡¯re not an idiot.¡± Lana told her flatly. ¡°There¡¯s not a god, sidhe or imperator that would touch the Leviathan Chains.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°They stop the leviathans from being able to leave the water. Lest they pull themselves from the ocean to devour all that lives on land.¡± Erebus explained, ¡°I¡¯m given to understand they¡¯re the only chain the gods regarded as important enough to get redundancies.¡± ¡°What are leviathans?¡± Alec asked, though only after a sharp elbow from Holly told him in no uncertain terms it was his turn to jump on this particular grenade. ¡°Death.¡± Lana answered, the demoness didn¡¯t seem to have a tone that was less than deadly serious but somehow she managed to make the pronouncement particularly grave. ¡°Just death. The death of dragons. The death of selkies. The death of a hundred peoples. The death of imperator and of god. Stay away from the ocean child, only fools and madmen sail the sails while they yet live.¡± ¡°A touch melodramatic but essentially correct.¡± Erebus echoed, ¡°To my knowledge no one and nothing has ever killed a leviathan, because nothing can bring to bear the sheer power needed to kill something of their size. The smallest is seventeen miles long and is nicknamed The Runt and their hunger is without end.¡± ¡°Size is an incredible weapon and an equally fearsome defence.¡± Alice agreed, ¡°I¡¯m the only warshifter currently in circulation but I heard that once there were seven of us alive at once, and bravely or foolishly we tried to kill The Runt, the least of them. We had backing from pretty much every order, nation or circle you could put a name to, paladin or mage. No less than three Immortals stood with us. The Runt ate well that day.¡± ¡°Okay so some of the chains are important.¡± Natalya conceded. ¡°How does your dying doom everything?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°Neither did the archmages who created the prophecy. If they¡¯d had their way I¡¯d have stayed behind the barrier of Seruatis until the end of time.¡± ¡°Maybe you should have.¡± It was Ilvere who¡¯d spoken up, ¡°I¡¯m not ungrateful for being saved, but this is the fate of the world we¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°Aye it is.¡± The necromancer acknowledged, ¡°But there is hope in the prophecy as well. The chains may break. And only if the last one falls does darkness rise. I¡¯m going to die. That¡¯s the one certainty, and it was every bit as certain before the prophecy was spoken as after it. That¡¯s what happens, everything breaks eventually. I¡¯m not going to spend that time cowering in whatever hermetically sealed chamber Seruatis can devise.¡± ¡°And a thousand piece jigsaw slots into beautiful place.¡± Natalya whispered, eyes gleaming with triumph and just a little bit of pride at her prot¨¦g¨¦¡¯s audacity. ¡°So what are you attacking first?¡± ¡°Wait- attacking- what?¡± Amara spluttered. ¡°I don¡¯t approve.¡± Lana stated, ¡°My duty is to keep you safe my necromancer, you will make this difficult in the path you pursue. I thought you sought a place of safety but I defer to your boon companion on your intent.¡± Alice just smirked, as if she¡¯d known this was going to happen all along. Because she had. She suspected Sato had also known, not out of any foresight or magic but just from the set in their friend¡¯s jaw and the pain in his eyes. Holly and Alec too were unsurprised, the Erebus they knew was not one to lay idle and besides they too had heard the prophecy and though they had not placed Erebus as the chainbreaker they had certainly figured out it was a prophecy of apocalypse, and their mentor would never stand back from such a thing. ¡°I¡¯m going to die.¡± Erebus repeated, ¡°Nothing can change that. What I can do is prepare the ground for when I¡¯m gone so that this world has the best possible chance of surviving. I won¡¯t order you to follow me, this work is going to be as deadly as any I¡¯ve undertaken, but I will ask you, please, help me give Reath a fighting chance.¡± ¡°I¡¯m in.¡± Susan declared almost immediately, to noone¡¯s surprise. ¡°Give me a fight worth dying for and I¡¯ll march with you out into the Great Void itself.¡± Alice assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder, ¡°Let old Death herself quake in our path.¡± ¡°We¡¯re in.¡± Holly and Alec declared in unison, stepping forwards. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Six voices echoed back with even greater unity. It was Alec who stepped forwards to make their case, ¡°I know we¡¯re not experienced, or knowledgeable, or helpful¡­ um¡­ I¡¯m not exactly helping our case here am I? But my point is that for all what you¡¯re about to do is dangerous so is ditching us here. If someone figures out you¡¯re based here and comes looking¡­ Holly and I cannot fight them off. The way I see it if we¡¯re with you guys at least we¡¯ll always have a chance, and we¡¯re learning, we¡¯re getting better, and without us you¡¯d have been killed by Evan so¡­?¡± His voice trailed off on a hopeful note. ¡°No. You¡¯re staying safe here with Ilvere.¡± Erebus stated with the finality of an executioner¡¯s axe. ¡°Actually I was going to offer to come with you as well.¡± Ilvere piped up. There was a pause punctuated by the sound of Erebus¡¯s palm impacting his forehead, fingers raking slowly down his face in exasperation. ¡°You¡¯ve got people you¡¯re sworn to care for.¡± The geomancer nodded, smile a little brittle but there all the same, ¡°And if the world ends they die too right? I¡¯m not a hero¡­ but John was, and he can¡¯t go with you now, so I will.¡± ¡°Abyss protect me from apprentices with good intentions.¡± The necromancer grumbled, but his heart just wasn¡¯t in it. ¡°Fine. Fine! But you all do what you¡¯re told, when you¡¯re told. I mean it, I know I normally invite questions but when we¡¯re out there your response to an order cannot be ¡®why?¡¯ Clear?¡± ¡°Crystal, sir.¡± Ilvere said, giving him a salute that was centuries out of date. ¡°That goes double for us.¡± Alec promised, copying the salute as best he could. With a drawn out sigh Erebus turned his gaze to the remaining mages. ¡°Well I can¡¯t have a bunch of kids making me look bad.¡± Amara joked, ¡°I¡¯m in, though I¡¯d be really grateful if getting the assassins off my back was part of laying the groundwork.¡± Lana met Erebus¡¯ gaze with something close to defiance, ¡°This is the dumbest plan I¡¯ve heard and I was alive when the gods had the idea to create gatling hornets. So I¡¯d better make sure you don¡¯t get killed doing it.¡± All eyes were on the last of them, Natalya unperturbed as she thought it over, not prepared to take the decision lightly. ¡°I¡¯ve got a daughter¡­¡± She began, startling absolutely all of them. ¡°she¡¯s just started at the Necropolis, and the thought of her growing up without me¡­ she doesn¡¯t have anyone else¡­ it fills me with nothing but dread. But better that than she doesn¡¯t get to grow up at all. I¡¯m in. Where do we attack first?¡± * The first attack came without warning and it came without mercy. Many dismissed dryads as gossipy and rather harmless as long as you didn¡¯t offend the dryad of the forest herself. Those people had yet to realise that the most dangerous thing a person could do sometimes was talk. Beneath the soil lay a complicated network of fungus that trees, even dryadless ones, used to communicate and sometimes exchange resources when times were hard. Noone was entirely sure what we being said normally. In this instance however the first blow was struck when Twisted Hawthorn spoke to Apple the Kind, just thirty miles from the forest¡¯s edge, her will having to reach far through those thin mycelial strands. Well less spoke and more threatened, the fungus that had twined its way around the younger dryad¡¯s roots biting deep as it began to draw the water from her tree as Hawthorn gave her her orders. Apple had never so much as raised a branch in violence, never enforced her will on anything not even the trees that surrounded her and it was easy enough for Hawthorn, who had clawed and fought every day of her life with the trees around her for more light, more nutrients and more space to sweep her influence over the fungus in the soil aside. Faced with death or compliance, Apple, who had guarded her orchard for generations, who loved and cherished every person who had toiled to turn her little forest into one of the great breadbaskets of the Paladin Order, submitted and cried as she did so. Every apple that grew in the orchard was a luscious golden skinned fruit, rich in sugar and crunchy, a prized delicacy that travelled far and wide. The wagons that came and went from the farm never stopped, not even in the grip of winter. For three days every apple that left the farm had been subtly altered, the skins on the seeds nonexistent as concentrated cyanide leeched through into the sweet flesh with every passing moment. It was a subtle thing, no one on the farm would ever suspect a thing given the fruits eaten there would still be fit to eat, by the time they made market however¡­ The death toll was in the hundreds and no one would even have thought Apple a suspect had the weeping dryad not confessed immediately, the only thing that spared her from the lumberjack¡¯s axe was Hawthorn¡¯s far swifter punishment. The dryad wasting away before the horrified eyes of the unprepared paladins who had merely been hoping she might have noticed something, the entire orchard wasting with her. The Forest Guard, for the first time ever, left their forest, marching out to wipe the small village of Rediksburg from the map. It was not entirely without casualty, Rediksburg was a Council town and the mage stationed there had been a pyromancer, the natural enemy of all trees and he¡¯d slain dozens before he¡¯d been overwhelmed and a misshapen brute had driven the stake at the end of their arm through his eye. No bodies were ever found and the Forest Guard¡¯s numbers swelled. A cutting of Pine was taken, a single guardian ferrying them deep into paladin lands and the cutting was painstakingly planted out of sight near a field of winter squash. Within the three days it took to find and kill her she was the only living plant for miles. As this was all happening two dryads were being escorted, one to the High Paladin¡¯s Citadel at New Pax and another to the Council of Mages. Bonsai had always been regarded as a dark art by dryadkind, but there were few dark arts that Von Mori had not employed at some point in her long history. Everyone had to have diplomats afterall and dryads were notoriously immobile, sacrifices had therefore been made. In the month since the elder dryads had pledged themselves to war they¡¯d been travelling, each guarded by a senior Forest Guard, a paladin slain by Von Mori herself, because no lesser hand could have done the deed. Travel had been slow. Teleportation was a mage¡¯s art and Von Mori had no mages. Nor wagons or horses, though where possible they made use of them though for all the forest lacked coinage as well it did not lack wealth, the roots of the great trees had split rock aplenty and they knew well how mortals coveted shiny things. A ruby the size of a fist could get even something as hideous and strange as a Forest Guard carrying a plant pot a very long way indeed. To both seats of power of the great factions of Contenmere a message was delivered, war, war unending, until the head of Allister Lutan, son of Anton Lutan and Lord Protector of the South West, was delivered to the heart of Von Mori. For High Paladin Gregor Voltoya it was a headache he dearly did not need, his only consolation was that, for all the problems this was going to cause him, the Council of Mages would be suffering an even greater pain. Being asked to hand over one of your own was one thing, being pressured to try and force your greatest enemy and ally to do so was another entirely. If Lutan had told him his plan had included the murder of a greater dryad he would never have agreed to it. Already the loss of Erebus was being felt greatly, just having the threat of the rogue necromancer (and close friend) out there had prevented all sorts of monsters, some human, some not, from coming out of the woodwork for fear of a black robed figure darkening their doorway, but it was a loss he had prepared for and mitigated. A war on top of all that was threatening to topple some already precariously balanced spinning plates. Alas he could not simply discard Lutan, his zealotry was sadly popular and his conduct thus far competent enough to turn heads, his bravery beyond question, the renowned mage-hunter had thrown himself without hesitation into odds so long he had no right to emerge alive. What he had usually emerged as was covered in blood, and, a rarity in that grisly work, with survivors of whatever ghastly ritual he¡¯d interrupted in tow. With little choice he scheduled a meeting of the Lord Protectors, to be conducted by secure message stone, for the next day. He knew what result the vote would return but at least he could say he had tried. At least he could comfort himself in the knowledge that no one was having a worse day than this. * This, the bard concluded, after a moment¡¯s thought, had to be the worst day of their life. Sure there had been tragedies, friends lost, confidences betrayed, but for sheer unadulterated stress today was the clear frontrunner. Forest Von Mori¡¯s opening offensive could have been a lot, lot worse and if they hadn¡¯t been paying attention it would have been. For starters the diplomats nearly hadn¡¯t made it, twice they¡¯d had to distract a guard with a hot temper from heading in the direction of the Forest Guard on the paladin side of the border. Once, on the mage side, they had had to go so far as foul a mage¡¯s aim where they¡¯d seen what was a monster by any measure and acted on reflex, a blast of lightning earthing itself harmlessly on a metal guardrail. Now that had been taxing, bardic magic was always at its weakest when it was overt and there really was no other way to interpret a bolt of lightning bending away from its target at nearly ninety degrees, the steel post that acted as the thinnest of pretenses for the spell to work was slagged in the process ¨C which had at least wiped their own magical signature from it. The bard did not want to think about the reaction if the two dryads had been slain. Not from Von Mori, it was hard to escalate from all out war, but there were other forests and they would not take kindly to it, for all Von Mori had few true allies, if any, killing their diplomats, no matter how grotesque their bodyguard, was a bad look. The debacle at the Arisvale Orchard had also been one they¡¯d had to contain, hundreds had died certainly but it could have been so much worse, once the reports had come flooding in they had almost fled for the lab and in the course of the next few hours caused no less than fifteen horses to throw a shoe, ten wagons to get stuck in deep mud and one unfortunate wagon driver to get pressganged where he¡¯d stopped for a drink before his apples could get to market. Anything they could think of to keep the fell fruit away from people. There had been other methods, desperate ones, that they had resorted to when all else had failed, when there had been no rain, when the farrier had been too skilled and the driver too wise. It had not taken much of a push to persuade the driver they had earned a light snack. That was one memory that when they put it down they were not sure they would have the courage to pick back up again. Hopefully the Holy Paladin Order would never know just how lucky it had been. Oathkeeper - Chapter 14 - The Fallen Kingdom In The Dark The journey had been a long and difficult one, certainly more difficult than it had to be, the Forest Von Mori had not forgotten Saiko¡¯s part in their mother¡¯s kidnapping and though his status as The Swordsman¡¯s apprentice had spared him from a root simply twisting his head off like a screw top it had not stopped the forest from fouling their path at every turn. Normally it would have taken about four days to leave the forest from Seruatis but it had taken them a full two weeks and an uncomfortable number of trips and bruises (for Saiko exclusively) to finally emerge from the treeline, admittedly not without the last tree managing to whip a leafless branch into the mercenary¡¯s face. ¡°They really don¡¯t like you.¡± Alisha observed, the muse amused beyond measure as she pulled sharply on his arm to get him out of range before a slowly moving root could get around his ankle to trip him one final time. ¡°I¡¯d noticed.¡± Saiko snapped back grumpily. He hadn¡¯t gotten much sleep the last two weeks, from branches brushing against his tent, to a hole being ripped into it and rain actively being funneled in, and in one case waking up with his tent moved beside him. The forest had more than made its point. The two weeks that followed that had not been blissful but had by comparison been merciful, a week to cross the border into Mage Council territory, their passage uncontested ¨C no one seriously guarded the hundreds of miles of land that had, more than slightly arbitrarily, been declared the border anymore. The entire time Agh¡¯zak had been curiously tightlipped as to their destination, the massive orc, normally so boisterous, had been getting more sullen and withdrawn by the day. Not even their sword practice each evening shaking him loose from his ever deepening funk. Not that Saiko could entirely blame him, for all that he and Alisha were superlative fighters they were no match for Agh¡¯zak, not even working together. Even before accounting for the disparity in their blades the berserker had over a foot on them in height and reach, the kind of advantage that would be more than enough to tilt any fight between equally skilled combatants. It got worse, Agh¡¯zak¡¯s great cleaver had a length to match any greatsword or zweihander, further cementing his advantage. Then there was the weight, Saiko could just about hold it in two hands, and any attempt to block the damn thing was more like trying to stop a club than a blade, add to that the incredible strength behind the blow, enough that the orc was able to casually swing it in a single herculean hand¡­ Agh¡¯zak was having to be extremely careful not to maim them by accident. It really was hard to overemphasize his strength, for all that he¡¯d been, technically, retired for over a decade the ex-warlord had kept himself in shape and had a punch that could crack skulls. A sharp elbow to the face, never pleasant at the best of times, became from Agh¡¯zak the kind of blow that people woke up from two days later if at all. It was a serious source of concern for all of them, not out of any fear of the great orc but the concerns it raised about the Questing Beast. If it combined all their strengths then it would be very difficult indeed to overcome by force of arms. Agh¡¯zak¡¯s strength, Saiko¡¯s skill and Alisha¡¯s inspiration ¨C not that she¡¯d come clean on that to Saiko ¨C would be a terror. Currently the plan was to try and take it one at a time, forcing each of them into a mirror match and hoping one of them could outduel it or get lucky. Now as they stared at the cave entrance they could see precisely why their friend had been so taciturn concerning their destination. As caverns went the entrance was a large once, with the decayed remains of great stone columns collapsed around it. No writing marked who had once dwelled there, deep within the earth, all fallen to the inexorable march of time but there didn¡¯t need to be any script, the evidence of who had once been here was clear to all with the eyes to see it. From their vantage point from a high ridge in the valley upon which the cave was nestled they could see it clearly. The rock for miles was barren, not just of animal and plant but of moss and lichen too, something had picked it clean of life. Saiko would have bet there wasn¡¯t even bacteria alive on those rocks. ¡°Dwarves.¡± Alisha sighed gently, ¡°Why did it have to be dwarves?¡± The deep caverns of the world had only ever bowed to one master, the dwarves had been fractious neighbours, industrious to a fault and inventive to the point of obsession, but the time of the dwarves was long gone, along with the many foes of the deep they had been in constant war with. They had called it the Encroaching Darkness, a slowly spreading mass of¡­ something, absorbing all light as well as anyone fool enough to touch it. The dwarves had made a final stand, alongside what few of their enemies still stood. No quarter, no retreat¡­ no survivors. Well, one survivor. The trolls, the oldest enemy of dwarfkind, and the second most formidable, bested only by the orcs tribes, had, in the dying hours of the battle, sent a runner, so that the surface peoples would know the battle was lost and to prepare for the worst. The worst had never come, for a week darkness had flooded out of the deeps, a hideous devouring calamity that consumed the many towns that had traded with the dwarven kingdoms but on the eighth day the darkness had begun to sizzle and crackle in the morning light. By a miracle the world had survived. Erasima, the last troll, lived even now. One of Seruatis¡¯ many living relics and the only troll in history to be afraid of the dark. The lights never went out in her home. Agh¡¯zak had pressed her for aid, but the last troll had been implacable. Nothing would make her venture beneath the earth once more. Of advice she had had little beyond pleading with him not to go. That and, as an afterthought as he¡¯d made for the door, ¡°Use chemical light, they like fire and magic even more so. Then maybe, just maybe, they¡¯ll miss you.¡± Certainly The Eternal Swordsman had known it too, their supplies packed with tubes that, with a simple shake, exude a powerful blue light, not alchemical but simply chemical. The people who hadn¡¯t known it were busy glaring at Agh¡¯zak on the ridge, the greatest warchief of his generation hunching his shoulders in embarrassment. The only reason Alisha and Saiko couldn¡¯t be described as singularly unimpressed was that there was two of them. ¡°We¡¯re going to die.¡± Saiko said flatly as his gaze flitted back to the most barren of wastelands. ¡°We¡¯ll have to wait a day to see if the entrance is still active.¡± Alisha declared more practically, ¡°If it is we¡¯ll have to call the mission a dud.¡± ¡°You should have told us.¡± The mercenary added. Agh¡¯zak sighed, a deep rumble of exhaled air, ¡°You might have said no.¡± ¡°I can still say no now.¡± Saiko pointed out evenly, ¡°Do you have any reason why I shouldn¡¯t?¡± ¡°No good reason.¡± The orc admitted, ¡°Just please¡­ my people need this, I cannot fail them again.¡± The mercenary chuckled, ¡°Relax, I¡¯m joking. It was already a suicide mission, it¡¯s hard to escalate from certain death.¡± Relief blossomed in Agh¡¯zak¡¯s eyes before they narrowed, ¡°I really want to hit you right now.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Saiko replied smugly. ¡°If you two children are done squabbling, we need to have a plan.¡± Alisha said primly as she stared down at the cavern , ¡°This changes things.¡± ¡°How so?¡± The chef asked politely, his own gaze drawn there too. ¡°The Questing Beast. It may not even be alive anymore, almost certainly isn¡¯t. Nothing has ever survived a fight with the Encroaching Darkness.¡± The muse mused, ¡°And if it is alive, after millennia in constant battle with it, it is likely a combatant beyond our ken. Possessed of knowledge and skill enough to renders its natural supernatural abilities an afterthought.¡± Saiko took that all in then smiled slowly, ¡°If anything our odds have improved then. Call it fifty-fifty. Either the beast is dead and we just have to be very, very quiet, or death is an absolute certainty.¡± ¡°That¡¯s one way to look at it.¡± Alisha agreed, ¡°What of you, fearless leader?¡± ¡°Either way it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Agh¡¯zak rumbled, ¡°Whatever it takes, a future for orckind lies within that cave.¡± There wasn¡¯t much they could say to that. * Two nights they had watched the cave mouth, they that had been fortunate that, while not full, the moon was still gibbous and cast light enough to pierce into those depths just a little, removing the need to use one of their limited supply of chemical lights and risk revealing themselves. It was a tense watch, and a strain on the eyes as they had to watch for a deepening of the darkness, fearing the subtle shades of gloom would move from merely murky to a void normally only seen from the superdense remains of the largest collapsed stars. Nothing. Not a single mote of superlative shadow or vantablack void. Saiko wished he could say he¡¯d found it reassuring but all it meant was there was no good reason to refuse to enter the inky bowels of the world. Noone actually knew what senses the Encroaching Darkness possessed but it was at least suspected that, given it absorbed all light and sound, it could at least see and hear. It was thus a tense party of three that walked into the caverns on the third day, the sun rising high as morning faded so they would have somewhere to flee to safety if they¡¯d been wrong about the entrance¡¯s abandonment. They made surprisingly good time, Agh¡¯zak had a map of the tunnels, courtesy of the Seruatis library, that Pheus had been kind enough to mark with the chain¡¯s location. Saiko had played the part of the assassin more than once in his past life and he¡¯d been fearful of how their footsteps would echo on the dusty stone of whichever dwarven city this had once been, even with strips of cloth wrapped around their shoes to muffle their movements. Yet somehow even Agh¡¯zak seemed to float across the ancient stone with barely a whisper. Neither of them noticed Alisha at the rear, sweating from the effort as she pushed her powers of inspiration, normally passive and reserved, to their absolute limit to help silence almost three hundred kilos of musclebound berserker. The pale and cold blue glow of their light, held aloft by Agh¡¯zak (by virtue of his height), cast deep shadows and more than once they¡¯d jumped from fear where a shadow had seemed too deep. They had selected the least bright of the glowsticks The Swordsman had provided, wanting to minimise their presence and it had made it hard to make out much of the fallen city, still what little the glow illuminated showed the city to be in very good repair for its age and abandonment, no animals had disturbed it, no roots or moss had decayed it, even the wind barely had a presence here. It had taken them two days to fully traverse the city, the dwarves had built it up through generations and they¡¯d built in all directions including up and down, but finally they reached the deep tunnels that the map insisted they go down. Here they found the first sign of life since they¡¯d gotten there, trolls, at least two hundred of the lumbering monsters of legend, clad in the best armour the dwarven forges could craft ancient foe. One of them, a twelve foot tall with specimen with a beady eyed glare had a crossbow that would have been a siege weapon on just about anyone else, pointed right as them as they rounded the corner. All three froze, their hands raising above their heads in the universal signal of ¡®I¡¯m not holding a weapon, please don¡¯t kill me¡¯. The trolls didn¡¯t move and after a few tense moments the three realised the truth. Or rather Alisha, the only one old enough to have met any troll other than Erasima, did and the rest lowered their hands alongside her. For though trolls had naturally grey and bumpy skin, these trolls were just a little too grey, their eyes lifeless where they had been turned to stone. Slowly they advanced towards the fallen soldiers, still holding their guard posts even in death as if they¡¯d sought to block off the tunnel with their bodies. Perhaps they had. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Incredible.¡± Saiko breathed as he examined the towering troops, trying to imagine in his mind¡¯s eye how he¡¯d even go about trying to fight someone like this. A pike maybe? A very long boar-spear? On an animal of that size it would perhaps work but these were soldiers, with armour, any spear not properly enchanted would skate across the armour, and even if it stuck what then? It would be little more than a flesh wound and the troll could easily yank it from his hand. Crossbows. He concluded. Lots and lots of crossbows. Alisha¡¯s attention was drawn elsewhere, trolls never stopped growing as they aged, Erasima¡¯s home for that reason had had to have spatial compression charms put on it just so it wouldn¡¯t tower so large the roof poked outside the great bubble shield that protected Seruatis. This made it fairly easy to figure out the commander, the tallest by nearly a foot and thus the veteran. He¡¯d been stood at the back, not out of any cowardice but so that he could carve one last message into the walls of the tunnel they¡¯d been defending. It was a forlorn hope that the record would ever be read, few people had ever learned trollish script even when they¡¯d been alive, and of those few most had been dwarves so they might better understand their foe. It would take serendipity of the highest order for anyone to understand the words that took up a huge swathe of the wall by the entrance. Serendipity like the last surviving muse stumbling upon it. ¡°What does it say?¡± Agh¡¯zak asked solemnly, he¡¯d seen enough last stands, from both sides, to know what one looked like and even the famously stoic trolls had been unable to hide the fear on their faces as they waited to fight their last. Still they had stood there until whatever end had befallen them. Alisha took a moment, wiping a tear from her eye as she began to read aloud for their benefit, careful to keep her voice quiet enough not to echo. ¡°It has been a day since we have heard from anyone else within the city and I assume we are the last. We have expended the last of our lightbolts and the enchantments on our spears have faded with the artificer meant to refresh them never arriving. With the explosion of the primary manufactory I can guess as to why. ¡°Our dwarven allies refuse to flee, though we implore them so. I used to find their implacable stubbornness infuriating in my youth, now I fear it is the only thing steadying me. They will not flee to the surface though they could survive there, but their culture would not. Who they are as a people would be lost and they intend to fight to the last to deny it. ¡°I wish I could say it is that which keeps me here, that drive, that defiance of the inevitable, but the truth is there is no home for us up on the surface, we cannot survive there and it would not be long until the sun had claimed what few of us remain now. Still I must do something to deny the enemy something. ¡°To that end I have sent Erasima, our youngest, to warn the surfacers of our defeat. It is a matter of time until the Devouring Shadows fall upon us and I have ordered the skittar, arachni and contracted demons attached to my company to quit the field. To my surprise the demons have refused, from the lowliest imp to the one demon lord who¡¯s price King Borvos was able to meet though the dwarf has lain dead since the opening engagement. Nobility from a demon? Truly this is the end of all things. ¡°Though my troops do not know it I have one enchanted munition remaining, a sunburst I requisitioned as a last resort. Let the darkness try chewing on solid stone. I shall at least deny them the sustenance we represent and perhaps waste its time in the bargain.¡± There was one final piece of writing beneath it, two small and simple words. ¡°IT COMES.¡± Alisha¡¯s voice came to a slow stop, ¡°There¡¯s no signature but going from the armour the dwarves ranked her as equivalent to a captain. They must have respected the crap out of her if they were letting a troll lead dwarven troops as well.¡± ¡°Or were desperate.¡± Agh¡¯zak countered softly, ¡°Still this is the tunnel we need.¡± He gave the trolls a slow salute, thumping his fist on his chest, his head bowed. Even Saiko nodded in respect as he passed into the tunnel. ¡°How are we doing for light?¡± He asked softly, as they ghosted through the deep tunnels. Once they¡¯d thrived with life, strange predators hunting even stranger prey. Mushrooms that glowed, that shot out clouds of lethal spores, even mushrooms that could get up and chase an unwary traveller, but no more. The deep tunnels lay more lifeless and sterile than any laboratory Triple A had even conceived of. ¡°We¡¯ve enough for twelve more days.¡± The orc assured him, not even looking up from the map. ¡°Five more days there, seven out.¡± The sellsword observed, ¡°Can we do it?¡± ¡°Six more days there, six out.¡± Alisha corrected, ¡°The path back should be easier now we know it.¡± ¡°But can we do it?¡± Saiko repeated without irritation. Agh¡¯zak gave that due thought, ¡°Maybe, if our path remains unbarred.¡± * It was impossible to tell how long the tunnel had been collapsed for, it was however clear what had collapsed it. Something with terrible claws had hewn away the granite until the rocks had come tumbling down, filling the tunnel, already so narrow that Agh¡¯zak was having to walk with a stoop, with fallen stone. It was their eighth day underground, the day they would have to turn back if they were to ever return at all. ¡°Maybe we can reroute around it.¡± Alisha suggested hopefully, not looking at the map in the knowledge it would betray the lie in her words. Agh¡¯zak shook his head, ¡°This is the last part of the journey. Down that path lies the Questing Beast.¡± He tapped where they were on the map, which showed a clear and clean shot from here to the chain, and no other tunnels connecting them. ¡°We can come back.¡± Saiko concluded, ¡°We know the way now, we bring a team of excavators and have them clear the way and reinforce the tunnel, it will be expensive but we can do it.¡± The chef¡¯s laugh was a bitter and tired thing, practically a sob, ¡°Who is mad enough to come down here for money? And even if they did¡­ it was hard enough getting just three of us this far unnoticed, and it¡¯s right there!¡± Agh¡¯zak¡¯s voice beginning to rise to a full bellow. ¡°Keep it down.¡± The muse hissed, ¡°Saiko¡¯s right Agh¡¯zak. We¡¯re out of time and even if we weren¡¯t none of us know stonework, we¡¯re as likely the collapse the rest of the tunnel as clear it.¡± ¡°No. This can¡¯t be it.¡± The warlord practically pleading with the universe as much as them. ¡°Please, we can clear this. We have to try. It¡¯s right there. Not even a hundred metres!¡± ¡°It might as well be a hundred miles.¡± Saiko told him, placing a hand on the orc¡¯s shoulder as he sagged against the tunnel wall. ¡°This time you are actually asking us to die for you Agh¡¯zak. I didn¡¯t sign up for that.¡± The orc¡¯s glare made him take a step back out of fear for his safety, ¡°Fine then.¡± He growled, voice deep enough to shake the tunnel walls. ¡°Take the lights and go. Leave me two days food and water and I will clear it myself.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll never make it.¡± Alisha said gently, aware she was trying to fight the tide but determined to plead with him all the same. ¡°I have to try. Now go.¡± He ordered as he got slowly to his feet and began to move the heavy stones, almost immediately more rocks began to fall down to fill the gap he¡¯d made and more. Agh¡¯zak ignored it, mechanically selecting another rock and throwing it behind him. Tentatively Alisha and Saiko began to walk back the way they¡¯d come, neither of them looking at each other so they could pretend they hadn¡¯t noticed the shame in the other¡¯s gaze as they left the orc in total darkness. * For two hours Agh¡¯zak toiled, sweat pouring from the orc as he pulled aside rocks sometimes heavier than he was, muscles bulging and in some cases beginning to tear. He didn¡¯t care. Thrice in that time the tunnel had collapsed further as he felt his way through that pitch darkness. Slowly though he began to see light, a soft azure warmth beginning to fill the tunnel as he cleared the stones. He was getting close. Hope filled his ailing arms with energy anew and yet as the light continued to grow he slowed, the fresh rockfall meant he¡¯d made less than no progress, the collapsed tunnel even more impenetrable than before. But in that case where was the light coming from? The answer came in the form of footsteps, no longer bothering to be quiet Saiko and Alisha rounded a bend in the tunnel. ¡°I thought you¡¯d left.¡± Agh¡¯zak snapped bitterly, red eyes practically glowing. ¡°I realized I¡¯ve got nowhere to leave to.¡± Alisha shrugged, before more apologetically adding, ¡°My people are dead and gone, they shall not rise again. But you¡¯re right, yours have a chance, and they deserve that chance. I¡¯m prepared to die for that.¡± Saiko sighed, ¡°And I gave my word I¡¯d bring you back alive. I couldn¡¯t show my face back at Seruatis if I broke it.¡± Even with Alisha¡¯s aid the lies were awful but Agh¡¯zak didn¡¯t care. ¡°What¡¯s your plan?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll never clear the rocks by hand.¡± Alisha told him simply, ¡°So we go around them.¡± ¡°There is no going around them.¡± The orc sighed, ¡°I told you.¡± ¡°Only if you plan on travelling through the space that¡¯s there.¡± The muse told him smugly, taking him and Saiko by the arm. ¡°You¡¯ll have to be quick. There¡¯s no way the darkness won¡¯t sense a spell of this magnitude, it will be on us in minutes. Find the chain and destroy it.¡± ¡°You have no idea how far the rockfall goes.¡± Agh¡¯zak protested. ¡°Then we¡¯ll die horribly. Now shut up and let me focus.¡± Even Saiko could feel it, the tension of the spell building in the air, site to site teleports were a rare and dangerous magic. Rare was the mage who even could cast it, even rarer the mage foolish enough to for if there was something in the landing site the results were best described as messy and left at that. It was this that had made Sato such a rare talent, able to tell in advance if his spell was going to get them all horribly killed. Alisha was no Sato. She had no great foresight to fall back on, just thousands of years of experience, a considerable pool of magicka and fervent hope. With a single yelled word in a language the world had long forgotten she sundered space itself and pulled them through the gap. * They lived. It was a close run thing, Alisha had taken them as far as she could until her magicka had run dry, collapsing bonelessly against the tunnel wall as she fought the desire to sleep and failed. Just two feet less and one of them would have been encased in the fallen granite. Agh¡¯zak picked the slumbering muse up as if she were a child, hoisting her over his shoulder as he turned to take in the cavern that held the chain. There was light here, illuminating the shrine by the far wall upon which was a simple farming hoe. For an object of literally divine power it certainly didn¡¯t look like much. They had to be quick about this, for though they could not hear the Encroaching Darkness moving they could almost feel it, flowing like water through tunnels and cracks in the earth towards them, determined to devour them in their entirety. Saiko took the lead, the Spellbreaker already drawn as he sought out the Questing Beast. Not that it would take it long. The creature wasn¡¯t hiding, stood in the centre of the room. A massive four-legged leonine figure with claws longer than his blade, five scorpion-like tails on its back and a thick and oily hide that would turn aside most blades. Hopefully it wouldn¡¯t matter, all the Spellbreaker would need was a single nick to rob it of its magical abilities. Or rather it would have if the beast were alive. It seemed the Questing Beast had come to the same conclusion the unnamed troll captain had, the darkness could not eat stone. It didn¡¯t take a genius to read the situation, the creature had collapsed the tunnel to discourage the Encroaching Darkness from entering and then assumed the one trait that could defeat it, total inedibility. Normally it would have been transforming from their presence but the darkness was too great a foe and far too close, it¡¯s proximity overrode any strength they might have for no amount of stolen bladework, physical strength or knowledge would overcome what would soon come flooding through the tunnel, just the simple power of not being food. With no time to waste they ran for the shrine, only to be thrown back hard enough to hit the walls by a pulse of force. The golden script of the gods tracing itself in the air. ¡®Know this mortal, thy cowardice ill suits one who has journeyed so far. None may touch the chain whilst the guardian yet lives, face thy death with dignity and grace.¡¯ ¡°We haven¡¯t got time for this.¡± Agh¡¯zak yelled, putting down Alisha to make for the Questing Beast, intending to hew through the solid stone with Skullcrusher. He was right, from the tunnel the darkness burst through, an implacable wave of it beginning to fill the room. It was moving too fast, the orc would never make it to the beast in time to even strike a blow, let alone finish it. Saiko scowled as he got back to his feet, charging the barrier with his beloved falchion. Sure enough the barrier popped like a soap bubble, with two bounding steps he was at the altar, blade raised high as he beheld what could only be the aetheric chain. It was not an impressive object, a hoe, pitted and rusted and the handle rotted through, no one could ever farm with such an implement, but that had rather been the point. Either way the merc had no time to admire it, or pontificate upon the symbolism, as he brought his sword down upon the shaft of the hoe, the blade splitting it in two. For the second time in a minute Saiko bounced off the walls, struggling to breath where he had almost certainly broken ribs. Dimly he felt an enormous hand upon his collar, pulling him away from the tunnel entrance as his vision swam back into focus. The blast that had thrown him had also thrown back the devouring void and for just a few sweet moments the darkness retreated as if fearing a second blow before it surged back to feast. Agh¡¯zak placed him and Alisha gently against the wall furthest from it before the orc broke into a desperate sprint. Enough light could hurt the Encroaching Darkness, sunlight killed it. The blast of discharged divinity and magic from the chain had certainly hurt it, but not once had it ever feared a blade but then again, not once in all of history had it ever faced a Spellbreaker. The towering orc snatched up the blade from the ground where Saiko had dropped it in the blast, little more than a toothpick in his hand and brought it down upon a grasping tendril of inky shadows. It passed through the darkness easily¡­ and harmlessly, the warrior barely pulling back in time to avoid being touched by the undulating mass. Their last hope gone as he backed away to where his friends lay. ¡°Thank you.¡± He growled as he stared at the doom oozing more slowly towards them, perhaps it was cautious now where they¡¯d laid a wound upon it ¨C if by accident ¨C or perhaps it was simply savouring its meal. There was no way to tell. ¡°I asked more than I had any right to and you gave it.¡± Saiko hissed out an agonized laugh, ¡°No way I was letting you get all the glory. Still if you¡¯re hiding some secret magical art now¡¯s probably the time.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid the only magical art I possess is how to prepare a thirteen course banquet in just five hours.¡± The chef jested, eyes never leaving their foe. ¡°Well now¡¯s the time¡­¡± The mercenary¡¯s giggling downright hysterical as he closed his eyes for the end. Then, without warning or fanfare the Encroaching Darkness, devourer of kingdoms, doom of troll and dwarf alike, second most favoured servant of the fourth primordial, died, fading into little wisps of smoke that faded in turn. * Saiko and Agh¡¯zak just stared at the fading smoke, disbelief written plainly on their faces. ¡°Did you do that?¡± Saiko asked his friend slowly, speech slurred where he was punch drunk from the impact against the cavern wall. ¡°I don¡¯t think so?¡± Agh¡¯zak rumbled, ¡°I don¡¯t want to question fortune but¡­ what the hells was that?¡± The sellsword collapsed back into wheezing laughter, ¡°I have no idea! Maybe it was the chain exploding? I don¡¯t know, maybe divinity is poisonous to it and it just took a little while to kill it?¡± ¡°Not impossible I suppose.¡± The orc agreed, it was the best guess he could think of as well, ¡°Guess we¡¯ll never know.¡± He offered Saiko a hand up, which he gratefully accepted, having to lean on Agh¡¯zak for support even as the chef carried Alisha. ¡°Let¡¯s go home.¡± He said simply, some of his usual cheer starting to come back. Saiko couldn¡¯t have agreed more as he limped towards the cavern¡¯s exit, sure they¡¯d have to clear it by hand, or wait for Alisha to be well enough to teleport them again, but the future was bright. Which was the moment the Questing Beast broke free of its stone casing with a roar of rage its beady eyes narrowing on the mortal interlopers that had destroyed it¡¯s ward of aeons. Naturally it was between them and the exit. Oathkeeper - Chapter 15 - A Grand Heist Planning their next move was not going to be a swift process and though Erebus and Natalya had been all for hashing out the details next to their friend¡¯s grave as the cold wind cut through them, those from less melodramatic magical backgrounds had, with surprising force, put their foot down. Fortunately Valda did have a tavern, The Melodious Duck who¡¯s name¡¯s origin had died with its owner but though the tavernkeeper was dead the food was still fresh and the beer passable, in the circumstances people were quite happy to serve themselves. It was one of those silver linings that tarnished the closer it was examined, with its new population Valda had enough food to last it a long, long time. Despite that the tavern was all but empty, or at least had become so once the mages had filed in, for all that they¡¯d saved the town they¡¯d saved so little of it that feelings weren¡¯t exactly warm towards them. Only three people remaining at a corner table, apparently engrossed in a game of cards an ebony-skinned elderly gentleman with a beard almost down to his waist, a young farm girl in a black cloak, not the rich black of a necromancer but simple cheap cloth, her tool of trade, a simple hand-scythe, on the table next to her and the third of indeterminate gender with their back to the mages acting as the dealer for whatever game they¡¯d chosen, shuffling the cards with practiced ease. Erebus waited for everyone to at least have a bowl of stew in front of them as well as a full tankard of surprisingly good beer, though Alec¡¯s tankard was a fair bit smaller than everyone else¡¯s to his considerable protest. That done he called the meeting to order, ¡°The big question, as I see it, is what to target first. The archmages at Seruatis gave me a list of chains to either destroy or reinforce, as well as various wounds in the world they thought it possible to heal and forgotten artifacts they¡¯d traced through the Seruatis library. Now these are all tempting but I think we need to focus on freeing up Susan and Amara, which means getting the Umbral Temple off our backs and figuring out who¡¯s got the capability to even organise an assassination in the heart of Vulcanus. Any suggestions?¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be done on my end I¡¯m afraid, the Umbral Temple will hound anyone who knows I exist to the ends of Reath and beyond.¡± Susan told him with a barely perceptible shrug. ¡°¡¯mara?¡± Erebus prompted the vampire, the dark-skinned woman startling out of her contemplation. ¡°It¡¯s a hard one. The most senior of the killers was a master teaching at Vulcanus, but the cult he was part of lacks the resources to even hire one Nightblade, let alone two.¡± She supplied reluctantly, ¡°The Nightblade I interrogated knew the order came from one of the cults but didn¡¯t know which one.¡± ¡°Cult?¡± Alec asked more than slightly alarmed, cults were not, at least in paladin lands, a good thing, stories abounding of blood sacrifices and brainwashing. ¡°It¡¯s what the pyromancer sects call themselves. Each one is founded around a fire elemental, sometimes more than one.¡± Erebus told him once Amara failed to prove forthcoming. ¡°With the exception of the Academy Vulcanus which famously lacks for an elemental, and less famously has the most powerful elemental not currently in deep slumber. The cults act as guardians for their elemental as well as executors of its will, well those that have a will anyway.¡± At this Amara finally felt able to comment without risk of compromising her people¡¯s secrets, ¡°Most fire elementals just want to burn things, they don¡¯t much care what, give them enough wood and they¡¯re happy as can be. Of course pyromancers can just cheat by channeling mana into it.¡± ¡°Weak cult or not, he¡¯s probably our best lead. What sort of pressure would it take to get a master pyromancer to turn on a colleague?¡± Natalya asked, deferring to Amara¡¯s judgement on internal pyromancer politics. ¡°Well there¡¯s the obvious, payment, but Brother Malfior wasn¡¯t the type and he didn¡¯t have any family to threaten either.¡± The vampire replied, ¡°So either blackmail, threats to his person or orders from above.¡± ¡°How senior was he in his cult?¡± Alice asked, trying to contribute what little she could. The shapeshifter wasn¡¯t much for cloak and dagger work, possibly even less so than Amara. People didn¡¯t call upon a warshifter for their subtlety. ¡°Second only to the Custodian.¡± Amara replied swiftly, ¡°I¡¯ve met Illia, total sweetheart. Takes after their elemental, Hearthsong.¡± ¡°Huh. I think I¡¯ve actually heard of that one. The tavern elemental right?¡± Natalya asked with genuine interest. ¡°That¡¯s the one. Chattiest elemental you¡¯ll ever meet,¡± Amara smiled, noting the interested gazes, especially from Alec and Holly. ¡°About a hundred years ago, Illia¡¯s fireplace sparked an elemental. It¡¯s rare, especially for fire elementals, few fires have the longevity. The entire cult¡¯s still being run out of the tavern.¡± ¡°So fairly safe to say the only fire elemental that genuinely likes people didn¡¯t put a hit out on you.¡± Erebus putting to voice what most of them were thinking. ¡°What about the other assailants, could you identify them?¡± ¡°I knew three of them by face, only one of those name, but it¡¯s the same story, minor cult with no real resources.¡± ¡°Well that cuts down heavily on our leads and motives.¡± Natalya noted sourly. ¡°Because you¡¯re thinking too small.¡± Erebus concluded, the set of his jaw and the sudden exhaustion in his eyes told them he didn¡¯t like the thoughts running through his head. ¡°Do you want to know what I¡¯d do if I wanted a bunch of random master pyromancers to do my bidding? I¡¯d target their elementals.¡± Amara stared at him aghast, pretty much every practitioner of the big four elemental magics would have given him a similar look of total horror. ¡°You can¡¯t possibly mean that.¡± ¡°Of course I do. It¡¯s the easiest and most heavy handed method on offer, saves on the infrastructure and paper trail of a spy network or blackmail.¡± The necromancer informed her, ¡°All you need is the power to murder an elemental in cold blood in its place of power.¡± ¡°That narrows the suspect pool at least.¡± Natalya observed, ¡°Veil¡¯s mercy, we¡¯re probably on first name terms with most of them.¡± Erebus couldn¡¯t agree more, ¡°It¡¯s easily the thing I hate most about this job, harder to kill someone once you¡¯ve been around their house for dinner.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s say we use that as our working assumption.¡± Alice growled, ¡°What does it get us?¡± ¡°It gets us a methodology.¡± Natalya replied smoothly, smile widening as she scented blood in the water, ¡°And the problem with threats is that you have to actually follow through on them when someone says no. Does anyone know when was the last time an elemental was killed?¡± ¡°¡­that was me actually. The Maltz incident.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°but before that was¡­ anyone?¡± ¡°The Cult of the Slumbering Forge.¡± Amara said, ¡°An artificery with two elementals, one fire and one ice. The place detonated one night, everyone assumed the two had had a falling out and it got out of hand.¡± ¡°There would still have been an investigation, from the Council and Vulcanus.¡± Susan pointed out, ¡°Nat, are you on the run right now or just fled as a precaution?¡± ¡°Precaution, and I see what you¡¯re getting at, my credentials are intact. I¡¯ll file a request for the reports, if I don¡¯t return in two days assume I¡¯m dead.¡± The necromancer stood up, smoothing her robe as she prepared to part the veil between worlds with her hands (and magic naturally). ¡°You¡¯re just going to go now?¡± Holly asked confused. ¡°If I don¡¯t know it, it can¡¯t be tortured out of me.¡± Natalya told her primly, to a surprised but approving nod from Lana. Then she parted the veil of shadows and was gone. It took a little while for anyone to find words after the abrupt exit. The absent necromancer was a highly skilled and powerful mage, and, if people were being honest, a reasonable voice that had thus far done a good job of balancing out the reckless crazy of their leader. Such as right now, Erebus waiting until he was sure Natalya was gone before he said, ¡°So here¡¯s how we¡¯re going to steal the records from Vulcanus¡­¡± * It was a day later and Elinore Arcwright, Archmagus of Flames, stared in disbelief at the hole in the roof of her beloved academy. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me no one tried to stop him?¡± The recipient of the question quailed, ¡°We were caught off-guard archmage, by the time we even knew an attack was underway he was already gone.¡± ¡°Which files did he take?¡± Elinore asked as she peered down the hole, well holes really, each a perfect circle just big enough to admit a human being, descending through the floors of Vulcanus to the attacker¡¯s target. ¡°All of them archmage.¡± The head of the Vulcanus Guard, Isaac, just Isaac, answered wretchedly. ¡°All of them?!¡± She didn¡¯t bother keeping the heat from her voice, she was a pyromancer afterall and the red hot rage in her voice was enough to singe Isaac¡¯s eyebrows. ¡°Every file in the archives, the only ones they missed are the ones that were in use at the time of the attack.¡± ¡°You¡¯re trying to tell me we lost every record? Every contract? Every deployment?¡± She hissed, steam escaping out of her mouth. ¡°Right now we¡¯re having to conduct payroll on the honour system, the Council has a lot of the really old stuff and interdiscipline agreements backed up so we can retrieve those at least.¡± Elinore scowled, ¡°And the rest scattered to atoms. What was he thinking, trying to teleport from inside Vulcanus? Surely he had to know the building is warded?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the thing archmage, whoever he was he got out clean. I don¡¯t know what sort of mage he used but he stripped the wards from the archives before he ¡®ported out. Scrubbed the signature afterwards too.¡± If anyone had had the guts to ask her, Elinore would not have been able to tell them if that was better or worse. * The heist had been, in Erebus¡¯ personal if biased opinion, a work of art and had gone as smoothly as any in his long career. It had also, as a matter of personal delight, been entirely bloodless. The victim unharmed but for their pride. Entry had been the hardest part, the Academy Vulcanus was, as well as being a veritable fortress, a literal one as well. Built as the cap of a dormant (for a given and rather small value of dormant) supervolcano, the black stoned edifice had never once been conquered by force. Every single brick was enchanted with every protective rune the Council of Mages could devise, and a rare few they hadn¡¯t. A permanent barrier spell, much like Seruatis¡¯, was in effect, designed to stop dead any spell and the vast majority of physical munitions, with a single but notable exception. It didn¡¯t keep out the living. A school that students couldn¡¯t physically enter to attend would be a poor school indeed, though a number of teachers had lobbied for the change over the centuries to little avail. Either way it had provided a weakness that Erebus could abuse. The necromancer had teleported high above the ancestral home of fire and earth magics, and though Vulcanus had a host of air defences they had taken far too long to acquire him as a target, designed to stop a full scale assault rather than a single man falling at terminal velocity. What few shots that were taken missed entirely as he had passed through the shield bubble. A quick glance down told him he was still on target, a small mercy given the spellwork to come, while not complicated, would have to be fast. Adding another spell to mix would have been a trial if not an insurmountable one. First entropy spells, the archenemy of runic magic and physical objects in general, four of them as fast as he could form them targeted directly beneath, carving a path for him through the building to the archive, at least according to the plans Amara had generously provided. Then a spell sphere, accelerated and guided by telekinesis down through the entrance he¡¯d just created. Now came the genuinely dangerous bit, if one of a distressingly large number of factors went wrong he would die, it really was that simple. If he didn¡¯t bleed enough velocity when he entered the hole he would end up as an impressionist painting on the floor. If he bled too much too fast then the artillery spells currently failing to track him would turn him into a particularly gory firework. If the spell sphere malfunctioned or was unable to maintain the panacea they¡¯d all spent most a day charging it with for long enough, he would bleed out on the floor. If he missed the hole in the wall he wouldn¡¯t be close enough to the sphere when he hit and he¡¯d bleed out anyway. If he took too long to heal he¡¯d have to fight half the academy and it was unlikely they¡¯d be in a playful mood. And finally, if Amara¡¯s information on how the archives were warded was wrong he¡¯d find his atoms scattered over roughly a hundred miles. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. As he approached the hole he¡¯d made Erebus was sure to keep his arms tight to his sides and his legs straight, it made the spell he was about to cast harder but it beat being sent into a fatal pinwheel. He could have made this a lot safer but he couldn¡¯t wipe the traces of magic he used while falling at this speed and he doubted he¡¯d be given a chance to circle back so using chronomancy to make easy the spells to slow him were out of the question, even a hint he¡¯d been dabbling in time magic would have turned him from ¡®dangerous escaped criminal¡¯ to ¡®existential threat to Reath¡¯. The Council of Mages and the Holy Paladin Order he could outrun and outsmart, the few devils that had homes on Reath he could at least fight to a standstill, but if he got classified as the kind of threat that Immortals were dispatched for¡­ well that wouldn¡¯t be so bad. He was friends with most of them and they¡¯d probably try and take him alive. But there were other beings that would take notice, the ancient dragons would be stirred from slumber, a quorum of liches might be sent, one of the great wraiths might be freed. All threats even he was ill-prepared to fight. Better to risk being pancaked. As he passed through the entrance he released the spell he¡¯d prepared, unseen force slowing and cushioning him. Sadly, with less than half a second to work it achieved little, his legs broke on impact and he was barely able to protect his head with his arms as he slammed hard into the rocky if dusty floor of Vulcanus¡¯ archives. He lived. It was hard to be grateful about it but he¡¯d survived the initial impact and he could feel the panacea mending his limbs, though he¡¯d had to wrench his leg around with a scream to stop his knee ending up facing the wrong way. The spell was usually damn good about that sort of thing but¡­ well it was working on a lot right now and mistakes happened, especially with an unguided spell. After close to two minutes he was at least able to stand up, which was fortunate given the panacea was running out. The necromancer wouldn¡¯t have long to work, Vulcanus¡¯ security may have been caught off-guard by the brazen assault but they¡¯d be scrambling into action by now. The next part was delicate. Entropomancy was the perfect tool for destroying ward and it would not be exaggeration to say that Erebus was the greatest practitioner of entropy based magic on Reath, but all that meant in this particular scenario was that he was especially qualified to rant at length about how indiscriminate it tended to be, that and how little being the ¡®greatest entropomancer¡¯ meant when there were less than ten of them alive. The hard part was making sure it just affected the wards, introducing enough chaos into the system that they crumbled and failed, without also destroying the very documents he¡¯d come to procure. The even harder part was ensuring it only affected the wards preventing teleportation. He had no grudge against Vulcanus and crippling their defences, even in this era of relative peace, was a terrible idea. He managed it, more or less, there had been some collateral damage, at least one bookshelf had collapsed but given it was dedicated to millennia old tax records it provoked no particular pangs of conscience. Whether it provoked joy or not was something he would likely lie about under oath. With escape now possible he removed the second spell and third spell spheres from his robe pockets, each just large enough to fill his palm. Carefully he dropped one and as it hit the floor it activated. One moment invading mage and library of records, the next a bare room with a couple of aged tax forms floating down to the floor. There was one final addendum, the third sphere, seconds later blinked back into existence, it¡¯s flash of omnidirectional entropy turning to chaos the intricate spellwork that had been deployed as well as turning to dust the pages that had escaped transfer. * Back in Valda, Erebus dusted himself down while carefully making sure all of him had survived the teleport. Accidents happened and, for everyone other than Sato, teleports were far more art than science. Fortunately Natalya had at least been able to keep his landing area free of insects. That was an especially unpleasant way to die but the necromancer had kept a crackling static charge in the air that had fried any interloping fliers before they could get close. In truth even Erebus would have preferred other methods of transport but with the Umbral Temple searching for him the Realm of Shadow was closed to him, recent journeys had rendered Avalon a touch inclement and he¡¯d long been unable to even look in a mirror without a doppleganger springing forth to try and choke the life from him. The Hells were technically an option, especially with Lana at his side. Few would stop the servant of an imperator going about their business no matter how strange the company they kept, but for all the Hells did not map one-to-one to Reath, making transport faster, it was also imprecise, where locations lined up changed almost daily with few fixed nexi of travel maintained at great expense by both sides. Besides, time was a resource they did not have in abundance, what it lost in mana requirements and safety teleports more than made up for in speed. With the broad smile of someone who knows they¡¯ve gotten away with something they really shouldn¡¯t have, Erebus walked towards his companions, ¡°My friends, I give you the archives of Vulcanus.¡± Natalya gave him an unamused glare, the necromancy looked positively grey from fatigue, ¡°Stop showboating and get to work.¡± He opened his mouth to quip but closed it as he saw Amara¡¯s expression, the vampire looked similarly ashen and was silently drawing a finger across her throat. The two mages had had to provide most of the magic for the spells, given he¡¯d needed his in case anything had gone wrong, and were running on absolute empty. It was noticeable, the lifelessness in the air where all the mana had been used and would take time to resaturate. Everything just felt sad and depressing. It was one of the very defences that Seruatis used, that had all but crippled Janiah as she tried to cross it, sucking all the mana from an area made it inimical to both the living and undead, the very air trying to leech from them their magicka and vitae. Not much, but enough to make the experience unpleasant. ¡°I will but first you two get some food inside you.¡± The necromancer ordered, ¡°You look like someone left a zombie in a desert for two years.¡± They didn¡¯t argue, leaving Erebus alone with the section of books¡­ almost alone anyway. ¡°What don¡¯t you want them to see?¡± Susan asked, rising slowly from his shadow as Erebus turned to example the spoils of his heist. He laughed, the chuckle dark and bitter even for him, ¡°Is my reputation really that bad? Nothing. I just thought they¡¯d appreciate not feeling like they¡¯re being wrung dry by the air. Now where do you think we should start?¡± ¡°I have no idea.¡± The shadow admitted, ¡°This isn¡¯t my organisation, things I might consider obvious pyromancers might regard as totally unintuitive.¡± ¡°True but your organisation as you put it knows an awful lot about hiding things, especially in plain sight.¡± ¡°Accounts and payments. For all you¡¯re probably right about there being massacres hidden somewhere in these files, it¡¯s always hardest to hide things in the money just because at the end of the day they need to know how much money they actually have, even if it¡¯s hidden or coded there will be patterns. Things that don¡¯t make sense.¡± ¡°Got any examples?¡± He asked as he selected a ledger at random and began to pore through it, although with his level of competency when it came to financial crimes perhaps paw through it was more accurate. ¡°Small places receiving rather more equipment and funding than makes sense. Regular large payments marked as ¡®consultancy¡¯ or something similarly vague. Just anything that makes you look at it twice.¡± The shadow explained, reading over his shoulder where she was unable to touch the books personally. Paper was still organic. Erebus continued reading. By the time Amara and Natalya returned their skin had resumed it¡¯s regular ebony (albeit with a slight glow from magically restrained ignition) and normal unnatural pallor respectively. That Natalya qualified as having a natural and unnatural unnatural pallor was something best left uncommented upon. Erebus was fairly sure it was an affection, his former boss playing into the necromancer stereotype, that or it was a serious undisclosed health condition. ¡°Any progress?¡± Amara asked as she grabbed a ledger herself, sitting down on the grass to read, Natalya doing likewise, the other necromancer moving out of earshot apparently preferring quiet to read in. ¡°Nothing sticks out so far, we could be at this for months unless we get lucky.¡± Erebus admitted with a grumble. ¡°Where¡¯s everyone else? The extra hands wouldn¡¯t go amiss.¡± ¡°Oh they all made their excuses.¡± The fire mage told him, a gleam of mischief in her undead eyes, ¡°Want to hear them?¡± ¡°Sure. I could use the laugh.¡± ¡°Alice claims her eyesight¡¯s too poor to be of help.¡± She began, giving her former pupil a what-can-you-do shrug. Erebus considered that, ¡°Do you believe her?¡± ¡°Not for a second.¡± The vampire grinned, flashing her fangs in the process, ¡°But she¡¯s at least filling her time by helping Alec with his swordplay.¡± The necromancer frowned, confusion furrowing his brow even further, ¡°As I recall Alice was an exceptionally poor student of the blade even at the height of her health.¡± ¡°Indeed. If you want to watch a doddering octogenarian beat up an armed teenager with their bare hands then boy have I got the show for you right now.¡± Erebus stifled his laughter with a hand, fooling no one, ¡°I see. That accounts for Alec and Alice, and in truth the boy needs to work on his brawling anyway, his previous teacher, for reasons I can¡¯t possibly speculate too, focused on not losing your weapon or letting them inside his guard. What of our remaining wayward souls?¡± ¡°A similar story. Lana claims that she finds our keeping of written documents confusing and that we mortals would find our time better spent cracking skulls until someone talks. She¡¯s busy trying to teach Holly how to structure spells rather than just relying on instinctive casting, something about making them less of a liability.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Erebus grumbled, lips pressed tight together, ¡°Well it¡¯s a completely cohesive cover story but for one small detail. Lana¡¯s main role under her imperator was to act as her librarian, still points for the effort I suppose.¡± ¡°Always the librarians with you.¡± Amara muttered inaudibly. ¡°What was that?¡± Her friend asked sharply. Clearly she hadn¡¯t been as quiet as she¡¯d intended. ¡°Nothing. Absolutely nothing. What have you found so far? In the books I mean.¡± ¡°Also absolutely nothing. Well not quite, I think I¡¯ve found three cases of blackmail being paid and one person who¡¯s paying a findmage because she suspects her wife¡¯s having an affair, but nothing that screams ¡®murderous conspiracy¡¯.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°You¡¯re probably going to have better eyes for this than me.¡± ¡°Good point. Let me see the findmage stuff, just in case.¡± Amara replied, more or less snatching the gossip strewn ledger from her friend¡¯s house and noting the section he¡¯d highlighted with magic. ¡°Huh, I¡¯d never have guessed, Isabella and Anne always seemed so happy together.¡± Erebus¡¯ glare was thoroughly unamused, ¡°We¡¯re not here to get blackmail on your colleagues.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not here to get it. I fully intend to return home once this is all over, they can all regard this as payment for my nearly getting assassinated in my Qrilotesh blessed home.¡± The vampire retorted, enough heat in her voice that it spilled over into spell and she had to hurriedly put out the paper as it began to singe. ¡°How close were you?¡± Erebus asked softly, putting down his book as he moved to sit by his friend, an arm going around her shoulders as his cloak rose over them both, shielding her from the sunlight so she could drop her defensive spells for just a moment. ¡°To Qrilotesh or to finishing the Rite?¡± ¡°Both. Either.¡± His shrug was a carefree one. ¡°It¡¯s up to you if you want to talk about it.¡± ¡°Since when were you the caring one?¡± She snarked, the heat vanishing from her voice as swiftly as it had arrived. Self-control did not come easily to either vampire or pyromancer but it did double as vital for both and Amara had put the work in ¨C which was why Erebus was so concerned. ¡°Since my not caring created a monster.¡± He admitted, ¡°I can¡¯t avoid making mistakes but I can at least ensure I never make the same mistake twice.¡± ¡°Lutan?¡± She checked, receiving a nod in return, ¡°You never told me what happened between you.¡± ¡°What¡¯s there to tell¡­ I killed his father. Uncle Erebus drained the life from his father and then consumed his soul as well, that it was Anton¡¯s choice was irrelevant to a child.¡± ¡°He was fifteen.¡± Amara pointed out, ¡°and not exactly coddled.¡± ¡°Fifteen is still a child.¡± Erebus rebuked firmly, ¡°I tried to explain it to him, the lives that were saved, the heroism of Anton, but he wanted nothing to do with me and like a fool I stayed away until the anger had festered into hate and it was far too late to do anything. And don¡¯t think I don¡¯t see what you¡¯re doing.¡± ¡°What do you think I¡¯m doing?¡± His friend barely managing to stifle a giggle; the proverbial child caught with their hand in the jar. ¡°Getting me to talk about my problems so you don¡¯t have to talk about yours.¡± ¡°Is it that obvious?¡± Amara sighed, slumping in defeat, ¡°Fine. I wasn¡¯t even close to finishing the Rite. Ten years of constant meditation, constantly trying to listen for her thoughts¡­ I was barely able to comprehend her surface thoughts. The worst part was she didn¡¯t even get frustrated with me. At least then we¡¯d both have been frustrated, more in sync.¡± ¡°I see. And what exactly about trying to share the mind of a living volcano did you expect to be easy?¡± Erebus asked, not bothering to keep the gruff chuckle from his words. ¡°Nothing but I thought I¡¯d have something to show for it by now!¡± The necromancer shook his head, already knowing the answer to his next question, ¡°Is that why you did it? For power?¡± ¡°No! Of course not! The day Qrilotesh chose me was the happiest of my life. That the very soul of Vulcanus thought I was worthy of her attention!¡± The vampire protested vigorously. ¡°Yet you question her judgement?¡± ¡°Well¡­ yes. What possible use could she have for a- a¡­¡± She gestured at herself, not quite able to say the word. ¡°Monster.¡± Erebus finished for her, enunciating the word with painstaking exactitude, ¡°A monster like you.¡± The mage sighed deeply, gaze moving up to the sky his cloak of shadows was busy blocking. ¡°You know this is the part where I¡¯m meant to tell you you¡¯re not a monster, but the truth is you are. Not because you¡¯re a vampire but because you can kill without hesitation. You¡¯ve killed enemies, you¡¯ve killed innocents, you¡¯ve killed friends.¡± Each word was like a punch to the gut for Amara, the vampire visibly recoiling under them her eyes wide and watery with pain and betrayal. ¡°We¡¯re all monsters here Mara.¡± The necromancer admitted, soft as velvet and gentle as a moquito¡¯s bite. ¡°I¡¯m a monster. Lana¡¯s a monster. Alice is a monster. Susan¡¯s a monster, you¡¯re a monster. The corpses of the slain are no less dead because we thought our cause righteous.¡± ¡°But I-¡° ¡°Do you want to know who else is a monster? Qrilotesh. For all she has willingly shackled herself to the Academy Vulcanus, she is at her heart a volcano and you could fill whole libraries with the names of her victims.¡± ¡°How dare-¡° ¡°I¡¯m not done.¡± Erebus told her sharply, interrupting her again. ¡°Now I¡¯ve met Chosen before. Some of them are little more than elementals in a human suit, you can practically feel the magic consuming them from the inside. Qrilotesh doesn¡¯t do that, she chooses people who are masters of the arts needed to coexist with her, what you call the Rite of Empathy a thousand elementals would call the Rite of Possession, and it¡¯s not always the mortal being consumed.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not the same.¡± The vampire blurted out. ¡°No. It¡¯s not. Qrilotesh doesn¡¯t want a puppet, she wants a friend. Someone who¡¯s perspective can enlighten her and help her learn about the world. If you think yourself a monster I won¡¯t gainsay you, but it¡¯s that very perspective that she wants.¡± ¡°And how can you possibly know what an immortal being wants?¡± Amara retorted, getting more than little tired of the necromancer, no matter how well intentioned, trying to tell her the deep secrets of her own order. Erebus paused, wondering what to tell her, finally settling on the truth, ¡°I won a duel once and it was a terrible mistake. You know I was apprenticed to an imperator. She trained me in all the arts she could think of, hammered out every weakness she could find, and one of the things she taught me was how to duel with my mind.¡± ¡°Go on¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know if an imperator and an elemental are close in how they think but I¡¯d imagine there¡¯s a kinship there. That same knowledge that you¡¯re doomed to watch everything around you fall to dust. That¡¯s what I found in her mind, the one time I managed to slip past her guard. If I even did slip past, it¡¯s equally as likely she let me in. That terrible loneliness. The knowledge that all connection was fleeting and all companionship doomed to become pain and emptiness.¡± ¡°And how exactly would I change that?¡± Amara snorted, glaring daggers at him. ¡°Because you too have the potential to be eternal. I suspect you may even be the answer she¡¯s been looking for all these years, an eternal being with knowledge enough of pyromancy to survive the process. A friend she won¡¯t have to watch wither and die.¡± ¡°Then why did she let me leave?¡± The vampire growled, determined to poke holes in this theory. ¡°Because if you start trying to control your friends then that¡¯s no longer friendship.¡± Amara was quiet for a very long time after that. Just sitting there quietly thinking. Erebus didn¡¯t move, content to sit next to her and letting her process their talk. On his own thoughts he kept silent, it wouldn¡¯t have helped Amara to know that Qrilotesh¡¯s hope, presuming he was interpreting the elemental¡¯s intentions correctly, was a forlorn one. Even amongst immortals one would eventually have to say goodbye to the other. Better to dally amongst humanity where one could numb themselves to loss given time. That was what time was ultimately, the slow process of the universe grinding itself to dust. Oathkeeper - Chapter 16 - Susans Family After a day of searching the Vulcanus archives nothing of note had emerged. This wasn¡¯t surprising, the sheer volume of paper they¡¯d liberated was staggering and the search had been abandoned after a couple hours so they could start lugging the books, ledgers, tomes, pamphlets, posters and notebooks inside lest the dew of night smother their search in its cradle. They¡¯d been only partially successful, eventually resorting to Amara just keep an anti-humidity spell up through the night, those with unnatural constitutions working tirelessly. Still as dawn broke they had barely made a dent and the true scale of the task before them was starting to sink in. There were library magics, typically variants on findmage spells, that could seek out information with all the skill of a tiger on the prowl but even if they¡¯d known them it wouldn¡¯t have helped much given they didn¡¯t even know that they were looking for. It was thus an exhausted and dispirited meeting that took place that noon, The Melodious Duck acting as their centre of operations. For all the infirmary or John¡¯s office would have served better no one especially wanted to conduct things from there. Ilvere had at least signed off on not telling the Council yet, but her patience was an unknown quantity and no one wanted to strain it. ¡°It¡¯s going to take us a week just to move everything, at least if you want there to be any semblance of order once we¡¯re done.¡± Amara told them all, exhaustion written in every line on her face. ¡°That¡¯s a problem. For all that we¡¯re safe here that safety is a temporary thing.¡± Natalya observed, ¡°We have no way of knowing when someone will check the Valda barrier or a scrying spell will simply stumble upon us.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Alice growled, ¡°We need another plan of attack, once the archives are inside we can go through them at our leisure. Anyone got another angle?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got one.¡± Erebus told them, ¡°But none of you are going to like it.¡± ¡°That is indeed the standard.¡± Susan joked, the shadow sat a table away, hers a stone affair that Ilvere had been kind enough to create for her. ¡°We¡¯re currently trying to free ourselves up to operate free from pursuit. I suggest we skip ahead and hit one of the targets the archmages gave me.¡± Erebus spread his arms as if he¡¯d just finished a particularly good stage magician¡¯s act. Beneficent in accepting praise. It was a pity no praise was forthcoming. ¡°Are you insane?¡± Natalya hissed. ¡°No. Do not answer that. It will just make me want to hit you more.¡± ¡°Violence ill becomes you.¡± He smiled broadly at her, clearly expecting to be hit. She didn¡¯t give him the satisfaction. ¡°I¡¯m with Nat on this.¡± Amara told him, ¡°There¡¯s no possible advantage.¡± ¡°The archmages indicated the target I have in mind might be time sensitive.¡± Erebus confessed, not so much as flinching as the near ever present glares redoubled in intensity. ¡°Lead with that next time!¡± Nat yelled, reaching across to swat the back of his head, ¡°Idiot.¡± ¡°It was funnier this way.¡± He smirked, ¡°For me. Specifically.¡± ¡°You mean you¡¯re giving us the bad news a tiny bit at a time.¡± Susan remarked, ¡°Give us some credit Ere, we¡¯ve been through this song and dance before.¡± ¡°I am, but I¡¯m not going to apologise for easing you into bad news.¡± ¡°Well lay it on us.¡± Their resident warshifter insisted, her arms folded across her toastrack chest. ¡°For starters half of you are going to have to stay behind. You¡¯d just slow us down.¡± Erebus told them. This time he did recoil. ¡°Someone hold him still.¡± Natalya growled, voice low, dangerous and furiously predatory. To everyone¡¯s surprise it was Lana who moved first, pinning him to his seat by simply clamping her hands on his shoulders. ¡°Thank you. Now¡­ go on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not saying this as some pseudo-heroic attempt to protect you. Some of you would make the journey more dangerous by your mere presence. Amara, Alice, Holly and Alec. You¡¯re all going to have to sit this one out.¡± ¡°Explain.¡± This from Alice, ¡°And if there¡¯s one word about it being dangerous I¡¯m going to break your nose.¡± Erebus covered his snout hurriedly, ¡°That¡¯s precisely my argument. Wait. Wait! Where we¡¯re going will be far too cramped for you to warshift, you¡¯d just be an elderly human in what you could achieve there and the threat we¡¯d be facing could kill you easily. There¡¯s other practical concerns, I¡¯m no Sato, I can¡¯t teleport you where we have to go, whatever trick he used to move a shapeshifter he never shared.¡± Alice thought about it, her rheumy amber eyes never leaving his. ¡°I will concede I have never excelled at tunnel fighting. I will remain.¡± ¡°This is the part where you tell us we¡¯re not powerful enough to help.¡± Alec observed, trying to make his mentor¡¯s argument for him, already resigned to being left behind despite the assurances they¡¯d be allowed to help. ¡°Quite the opposite actually. You¡¯ve too much power.¡± Erebus informed him, ¡°Where we¡¯re going will be awash with predators that actively hunt for magic, you¡¯d be like a beacon announcing our presence.¡± ¡°Oh. Uh¡­¡± He glanced at Holly, conferring at the speed of thought, ¡°Fine. But please tell us there¡¯s something we can do?¡± ¡°You can keep moving the records we stole to safety. That way Amara isn¡¯t stuck maintaining a weather spell nearly every hour of the day. If you get that done before we return then you can help her search through them. It¡¯s not glamorous work-¡° ¡°But it¡¯s useful.¡± Alec finished for him, ¡°We¡¯re okay with that.¡± Erebus turned his gaze to Amara, ¡°Want to make your protest?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± The vampire replied, ¡°At minimum you need me to keep the books safe, if there¡¯s other reasons I don¡¯t need to know them.¡± ¡°You sure? I don¡¯t want you feeling left out.¡± ¡°Lana if I break one of his fingers will that count as the kind of violence you need to stop?¡± Amara asked sweetly. ¡°Unfortunately so.¡± The demon replied with surprising playfulness, releasing Erebus now she was sure he wasn¡¯t trying to ditch his bodyguard. ¡°Is there a reason you¡¯re being an ass?¡± Natalya asked him, fully serious. ¡°¡­Not all of us are going to come back from this one.¡± He admitted, ¡°I guess I¡¯m nervous. Where we¡¯re going is going to make Arcadia look like a family picnic.¡± ¡°Where are we going?¡± Lana inquired, expecting the worst. Sure enough she got it. ¡°To visit Susan¡¯s adopted family. We¡¯re heading into the deeps.¡± * They¡¯d settled on the entrance to Daum¡¯Kelok, one of the lesser mercantile cities the dwarves had maintained near the surface. Situated close to the edge of the Forest Von Mori, it had maintained a vigorous trade with the forest back before the shadows had risen out of the dark to devour the city. The forest had moved away over the generations, not even Von Mori wanted to risk a straight up fight with the Encroaching Darkness and even to today she¡¯d still been moving away. As Agh¡¯zak and Saiko were in the process of discovering it was near a week¡¯s travel from forest to fallen city now. ¡°This entrance has been abandoned for years.¡± Erebus told his three companions, ¡°I was going to try and retrieve some of the relics after I found the Tear of the Sun, but I never got the chance. From there we go down to the deep tunnels, we¡¯re looking at roughly a four day trip down, four days up. Teleporting out should be considered a last resort, if you intersect with the shadows you¡¯ll be consumed in transit. Any questions?¡± ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s our objective?¡± Natalya asked, ¡°Cause you were awfully tightlipped back in Valda.¡± Erebus held up a finger, begging a moment¡¯s patience as he put up some privacy wards. ¡°You know there is a point where caution becomes paranoia.¡± His fellow necromancer prodded gently. ¡°We just teleported from a secure location to what may as well be a random spot, I doubt we need the wards.¡± Lana laughed bitterly, ¡°If this were the hells I¡¯d declare you so adorable I¡¯d keep you as a pet. Telling you anything at all counts as minimal caution.¡± Erebus gave his bodyguard a glare, miming a mouth closing as he finished the warding. ¡°We¡¯re checking on one of the structural chains. The archmages suspect it needs reinforcement.¡± ¡°And they suspect this why?¡± Natalya barbed, eyes moving from him to the cave. ¡°Because the shadows are ever hungry and they must have survived on something down there.¡± Susan answered for him, ¡°I¡¯m right aren¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Close.¡± Erebus admitted to her, ¡°There are defences against that sort of thing, but those too can be fed upon. They suspect they¡¯re running empty.¡± ¡°What are rules of engagement if we¡¯re spotted?¡± Nat requested, starting to move towards the cave. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Run like hell.¡± Erebus said simply, ¡°There are magics that can hurt them, but this is their territory and they¡¯re practically without number down here. Practically a single immense entity.¡± ¡°Mhmmm¡­¡± Susan mused, ¡°He¡¯s right¡­ I can feel them even from here. Hungry¡­ they¡¯re so hungry¡­¡± ¡°Can they sense you?¡± Lana asked her sharply, placing a hand on the shadow¡¯s chest and forcing her back away from the entrance. ¡°Yes¡­ but they¡¯re not smart enough to be curious about why I¡¯m different, just whether I have food.¡± The shadow replied after a few seconds of agonizing deliberation. ¡°You do have food.¡± The demoness pointed out softly. ¡°Not from my perspective, and that¡¯s all that matters to them. We should be safe.¡± Susan assured her. Lana pulled her hand away, apparently satisfied as they finally descended into the depths of Daum¡¯Kelok. The going was slow, that had been inevitable, they didn¡¯t have any chemical lights, and using magic would be the equivalent of ringing a dinner bell. As it was they were having to spend a lot of concentration just restraining their magicka from interacting with the mana in the air ¨C what little of it was leaking in from outside. Still Lana and Susan could at least see in the total darkness that descended once they moved out of range of the cave mouth, the esoteric mechanisms that simulated sight not technically magic, or at least not powered by mana. If the two necromancers objected to literally having their hands held for the journey they didn¡¯t utter a word though they could almost feel the perverse amusement rolling off of Lana as she led them whilst Susan acted as scout and outrider. Erebus allowed himself a moment of regret, he¡¯d always wanted to come down here and with more time to prepare he would have come properly equipped with chemical lights to let him see the majesty of the fallen city. He¡¯d have come with a dozen specialists in light magic, twice that in aegiscasters and as many devils as he could contract to lay waste the devouring shadows that lurked in the dark. It would be the project of decades, if not centuries, but Erebus was sure it could be done. Should be done even, but the Council of Mages seldom had the spare manpower for an undertaking of that size. Instead he let the sights lost to aeons pass by in total darkness wondering if Natalya was having similar thoughts. * Darkness had a way of grinding a person down. The uncertainty of it, the feeling that the entire world had narrowed down to just what could be felt or heard. Erebus had been trained for this sort of scenario and still he was sure that if it weren¡¯t for Lana¡¯s hand in his he¡¯d have likely gone quite mad by the dawn of the third day. Not that there was a dawn. Sleep had also proven a trial, though he¡¯d at least managed it. Fear of what could be lurking in the darkness would have been a problem at the best of times, when the thing lurking was the darkness¡­ it wasn¡¯t a comfortable sleep. Worse still he¡¯d begun dreaming again. If he¡¯d been forced to do this on his own he¡¯d have done it very differently, and a hell of a lot more dangerously. He¡¯d have gathered power, condensed mana, spell spheres and crystals, every artifact he could beg borrow or steal and then just tried to fight his way down to the chain. It would have been a long shot, a last resort and how he¡¯d achieve the return journey he couldn¡¯t imagine, but it had been an option. That at least helped settle his mind, this way was a lot better. Susan certainly would have agreed. It was good to feel useful again. To be in the field again. She¡¯d forgotten how much she enjoyed this sort of thing, and for all Lana was able to sense her way through the dark it had soon become clear the devil¡¯s senses did not extend even a fraction as far as hers. She was the darkness, able to move through it at speeds that were startling. By the end of the second day she¡¯d all but abandoned human form, thin tendrils of her spanning for miles as she scouted out the labyrinth of tunnels, probing ever deeper down. Whatever this aetheric chain was, the gods had buried it to greater depths than the dwarves or trolls had ever probed. Strange things had lurked here once, for the gods had not been vigilant of what lay beneath and bizarre combinations of magical monster had grown to stalk the deep tunnels. Susan quietly suspected lurked still despite the best efforts of one of Reath¡¯s most vicious predators. Despite her earlier reservations the total darkness had done her a world of good, it was a lot harder to worry about what people thought of her when there was no one even able to see what she was doing. Now if only the infernal whispering would stop. That was probably unfair, at least if Lana could be believed. The forces of the infernal realms apparently battled with what she had to (reluctantly) call her kin every day. Still the shadows whispered. There wasn¡¯t much coherent in it. Mostly just hunger, unbound and desperate from a being that could not starve to death yet longed to devour all the same. Susan could sympathise, she too was hungry. Finally she could put a name to the feeling of wrongness that had haunted her every moment. She¡¯d simply been hungry, a gnawing ache that she knew no amount of food would ever fill, that simply could not be sated for what use was a weapon that could choose not to kill. Susan wasn¡¯t an idiot. She knew she was being seduced. That the silken and sibilant whispers were, intentional or otherwise, little more than a pretty lure and a promise almost as empty as the creatures that made them. That didn¡¯t make resisting them easy, if only because part of her didn¡¯t want to. It wasn¡¯t a part she was proud of, but she was tempted, truly tempted, to give in. To just give up her identity and join them. No more fighting, no more choices, no more loneliness, just the feast and the feast yet to come. But she¡¯d been feeling those pains for a long, long time and even before her accident she¡¯d been part of Second Response. Noone joined the elite response force from the entire continent because they wanted things to be easy or because they lacked willpower. The third day beneath gave her an answer to one of the questions the dark had given her. Faint tremors passing through the stone. One would have been meaningless, a slight shifting in the earth. Two could have been coincidence. Three the start of a pattern. This for all it was a gentle vibration in the rocks was a lot more than that. A regular tapping that could be nothing less than a living being. Tap tap taptaptap tap tap taptaptaptap. The message continued, long and convoluted and making no sense at all to her. It meant nothing to the other shadows, too hollowed out by their creator to realise what they¡¯d just heard. To her it was a beacon one she was delighted to head in the opposite direction to. Withdrawing her body from a dozen different directions where she¡¯d spread herself thin, she coalesced in front of Erebus and Natalya. They didn¡¯t even flinch, and not because they¡¯d failed to notice her approach. In fact both necromancers more or less ignored her presence, his ear still pressed to the rock. ¡°How much of that did you pick up?¡± Erebus asked, concentrating so hard it would have been mistaken for constipation if anyone could see it. Natalya answered slowly, dredging memories out of long term storage, ¡°Most of it but¡­ there¡¯s definitely been some linguistic drift. What did you get?¡± ¡°Some. I know some of the subtleties of the dialect but I¡¯m not proficient at the language. If that makes sense.¡± The older necromancer stifled a guffaw, ¡°We did wonder where you¡¯d disappeared to. My money was off-continent but not off-world.¡± ¡°Who won then?¡± Erebus asked softly even as his brain tried to squeeze the last drops of information from the message. ¡°Oh¡­ no one. I mean who could have predicted this?¡± Lana growled, an animalistic sound of pure annoyance, ¡°I take it you know who was making that noise.¡± ¡°Yes. It¡¯s Arachni Groundspeak.¡± Natalya told her simply, ¡°at least a version of it.¡± ¡°Arachni? Like the spiders we killed in Avalon?¡± The demoness asked, ¡°They didn¡¯t strike me as intelligent enough for a formal language.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because they aren¡¯t.¡± Susan said, a touch bemused, ¡°There¡¯s a vast gulf of difference between arach and arachni. Though I can see how the confusion would arise, arachni are¡­ rare doesn¡¯t even begin to cover it. Neither does ancient. Is this where they¡¯ve been hiding?¡± ¡°One of the places yes.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°Though it would be more accurate to say they never left.¡± ¡°And you both speak the language of a long vanished species of sapient spider why?¡± The shadow asked, wondering if it would even get an answer. She could hear the reticence in both necromancers words to discuss this, which already told her volumes. ¡°They were not yet vanished when I was girl.¡± Natalya said simply. She wanted to confer with Erebus on whether to share more, the Necropolis held many secrets dearly and this certainly touched upon one of them, but without light or magic there was little she could say without using actual words. ¡°I suspected they would be down here. Wandered until I stumbled upon them then begged tuition until they caved.¡± Erebus answered with an unseen shrug. ¡°They¡¯re friendly enough as long as you know how to move quietly.¡± ¡°It also explains why your umbramancy has always been so damn weird.¡± Nat noted, ¡°So do you think you can make contact?¡± ¡°I hope so. Depends what the message was. All I managed to pick up was ¡®flesh in the tunnels¡¯ and ¡®returned to the village¡¯. What did you pick up?¡± ¡°That fills in a couple of gaps for me.¡± Natalya nodded her thanks reflexively before realizing that was pointless, fortunately her embarrassment went equally unnoticed. ¡°Message reads: Our furthest scouts have detected carapace-less ones in the tunnels. Assemble a hunting party to escort them to safely. It seems the Clumsiest Fly has returned to the village.¡± Erebus winced, ¡°One word. Just one word and I¡¯ll- I¡¯ll¡­ come up with a really good threat.¡± Tapatapatap tap tap tap tap tap. Another message through the stone. ¡°The fly is lucky we used one of the less embarrassing names.¡± Natalya broke into giggles as she translated then stopped abruptly as the implications sunk in. Without any further warning, and not even the slightest whisper in the mana, a dozen spiders, each easily able to stand level with a fully grown horse, were simply there. Even to Susan¡¯s superior sense of darkness it was like they¡¯d just teleported in place. After a moment of panic the shadow relaxed, with the tunnels renowned for the living shadows that lurked in them it was almost inevitable that whatever else survived here could hide from her. ¡°How many are they?¡± Natalya asked quietly, fingers twitching as she fought the urge to summon a shield. Any spell would be a death sentence, and a fist fight in the dark would probably go to the one with the fangs dripping in venom. Lana and Susan would at least be able to fight back, but having to rely on others sat wrong, and whether they¡¯d be able to protect their two (relatively) helpless friends was a dubious question. ¡°A full dozen.¡± Lana told them, the devil trying to figure out how best to interpose herself, eventually settling for guarding Erebus¡¯s back, informing him of the change in position by resting her hand briefly upon his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze that probably had drawn blood. The necromancer was almost distressingly relaxed, to the point Lana had to worry for his survival instincts. They¡¯d been ambushed and she didn¡¯t have to see his face to know he was smiling about it, his stance all but screamed it. Slowly Erebus sunk to his knees before beginning to drum his hands on the stone. He paused a few times as he hammered his message upon the rock, struggling to remember what little he knew. ¡°Greetings hunters of the night that is long. I am Clumsy Bug. May we be escorted to the larder?¡± Natalya translated ¡®helpfully¡¯. Now Susan certainly wouldn¡¯t claim to be an expert on giant spider body language but she could have sworn there was amusement in the arachni that answered back. ¡°It is pleasing that your groundspeak has improved in your absence.¡± His friend continue to translate, doing a double-take at that particular announcement. ¡°We would be thrilled to bring you to our home though we find your companions concerning. Also you know we can understand you. Just talk.¡± Erebus nodded gratefully, even that brief message had strained his grasp of arachni to the limit, ¡°I can vouch for each of my companions. Lana is a devil in the service of the imperator of Madness and Darkness, assigned as my bodyguard for services rendered. Natalya was my superior in the Council of Mages seeking to help me in a time of great need and Susan, for all she shares the body of your great enemy, has the mind of a human mage; it is only through her aid we have gotten even this deep.¡± The lead arachni considered that. It couldn¡¯t have taken more than a few seconds but for those who couldn¡¯t see through pitch darkness it may as well have been an eternity. ¡°Thinking Hungry Darkness may come with us, but should she harm one of us you will all be held accountable.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Susan bowed, deep and low, ¡°I will not lay a hand upon any of you and I thank you for your forbearance.¡± ¡°That is acceptable. We would ask you questions later, that we might learn more of the hungry darkness. Now please, no more speech until we reach the village, we risk being noticed already with your loudness.¡± The arachni tapped out. ¡°It will be good to see the village again.¡± Erebus replied wistfully. The arachni¡¯s next comment caused Natalya to miss her step and stumble to the ground, staring up at her former right hand with complete disbelief. Whatever the spider had said it had startled her enough she wasn¡¯t even trying to get to her feet. ¡°What did they say?¡± Lana asked softly, one hand moving to the hilt of her blade. The old necromancer took a moment to compose her, and then a second moment when that failed. ¡°Your¡­ your wife has missed you.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 17 - Discovery & Heroism Alec slowly, possibly even delicately, closed the ledger he¡¯d been reading. It had been slow going and he was due a break where they¡¯d been working meticulously. The last thing anyone wanted was to have to go through the entire library a second time because someone had been too tired to realise what they¡¯d read. It had taken them three days to finish moving all the books, and had been a day since then, though he had to confess Amara had done less the lion¡¯s share of the work and more the entire pride¡¯s. Vampirism had its perks, though moving an entire library in such a short time had left the vampire more than lightly peckish. Animal blood had sufficed, with some minor grumbling from Amara ¨C apparently chicken blood was disgusting. As he got to his feet, having to massage some feeling back into his legs as he did so, Alec headed on to his next task for the day. Holly met him at the door, the two trading places without saying a word; at least out loud. ¡®I got as far as the Ancient and Noble Order of the Smouldering Lake¡¯s expense claims.¡¯ Alec told her, mind to mind, ¡®How¡¯d your lesson go?¡¯ As they conversed he headed towards his own teacher, Ilvere of all people had been trying to teach him how to sense the currents of mana in the air as Holly could. Amara had tried to teach them but the problem with being an ancient vampire and master mage was that one¡¯s own apprenticeship lay so far back in the past that she was struggling to remember how she¡¯d been taught a skill that now came to her as naturally as breathing, more so in fact, vampirism being what it was. ¡®Poorly.¡¯ The dryad¡¯s mental voice was the embodiment of a sigh, unable to stop her frustration from leaking through to him. He could empathise, he wished his own lessons had been going so well as poorly. Magic, as it turned out, was hard. Even for a being who¡¯s body was literally made of it. Holly could command and manipulate plantlife almost by reflex, it was her birthright, much as excessive speed and strength was Amara¡¯s and shapeshifting was Alice¡¯s. Structured magic, the magic of mages, wizards, sorcerers and shamans was a different matter entirely. Maybe, and it was only maybe, dragons could cast those sorts of spell by instinct, but no one else could. Holly had been under Amara¡¯s tutelage for a few days, and so far hadn¡¯t gotten any further than managing to vaguely push mana in the air into a cloud rather than the intricate shapes and flavours of a proper spell. Alec wasn¡¯t wholly sympathetic, a small bitter voice in the back of his mind couldn¡¯t help point out to him that he hadn¡¯t even reached the cloud stage yet. Ilvere was waiting for him out on the outskirts of Valda, between the gateway in and the town itself, a precaution in the unlikely event someone decided to check in on the town. The geomancer had been hunched over a large stone cauldron of water, summoned out of the earth for the occasion. The geomancer smiled when she saw him, eyes flitting for just a moment to the position of the sun, ¡°You¡¯re early.¡± ¡°I realised the fourth time I read the same page that I wasn¡¯t doing anyone any good where I was.¡± Alec admitted without any embarrassment, ¡°Where did we leave off?¡± ¡°Sensing the mana in the air.¡± Ilvere replied, stepping back from the cauldron of water, ¡°I think we¡¯ll try something a little simpler today. I¡¯ve charged the water with as much mana as I can. Hopefully it will be easier to sense.¡± ¡°What do you need me to do?¡± Her student asked, not sounding too hopeful. This was the third attempt at simplifying things so far. He¡¯d been able to sense his own magicka, a surprisingly deep well of energy that so far mostly went into keeping Holly alive as well as powering the magic the dryad used. It had been the sensation of that energy leaving him that had allowed him to find where it had been coming from, Ilvere had been amazed by how quickly he¡¯d done it but since then his training had stalled out entirely. A fact made all the worse by the knowledge Erebus and a paladin monk he¡¯d once learned under had both instilled a lot of the basics into him already. ¡°Place your hand in the bowl. Let me know what you feel.¡± Ilvere ordered him simply. Her green gaze unwavering from interest as Alec did as he was told. ¡°It¡­ tingles slightly?¡± Alec replied, more question than answer. ¡°Good. Focus on that.¡± The geomancer urged, ¡°Try to let your mind follow that feeling into the water. That tingling is where the mana is interacting with your magicka.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I try to focus on my magicka then?¡± Alec asked, not unreasonably. ¡°No. That would be the start of a very bad habit.¡± Ilvere told him firmly, ¡°The extra step would slow you down.¡± It also was an important part of some of the more advanced mana sensing techniques, the kind she was only now starting to learn herself but for obvious reasons she didn¡¯t mention that. Her student nodded, closing his eyes and calming his breathing so that he could focus completely on that sensation. It was not a fast process, the meditative state at least came swiftly, as the old adage said, practice made perfect. After that came the hard part, dissociating the sensation of the water on his fingers, the difference in temperature between the two and the tingling that, he was beginning to realize, was not actually real. Nothing was actually causing it, or at least nothing that should have been triggered by his senses, it was, to all intents and purposes, an effect with no cause. It was just as he was starting to untangle that realization that Holly spoke in his mind. ¡®You need to open your eyes then head for town.¡¯ The dryad¡¯s mental voice was calm, but the strained kind that hinted it was taking a serious effort. Alec cursed out loud, the moment ruined. Still he opened his eyes and was glad he¡¯d done so before he replied. Ilvere was no longer stood over him, the geomancer in fact over by the gate where she was in a heated argument with five people, three in mages robes, red, black and a pale green, and two in the enchanted plated mail of paladins attached to First Response. Clearly Holly had been monitoring his senses while he¡¯d not been using them. It was vitally important not to run and so it was at a walk just stopping itself from turning into a jog that he headed back into town. ¡®What do we do?¡¯ He asked Holly silently. ¡®I¡¯ve alerted Amara, she¡¯s going to find Alice as we speak. Grab your things and meet me at the infirmary. We¡¯re to help hide everyone in Evan¡¯s lab then get in there with them. I¡¯m to seal the hatch once we¡¯re in.¡¯ Damn, Alec thought dryly, Holly hadn¡¯t wasted a moment¡¯s time. ¡®I¡¯ll take the west side.¡¯ He took a moment to glance over his shoulder. Ilvere¡¯s argument had failed to erupt into violence, the geomancer now apparently escorting them into town. The teenager got a proper look at her expression, the young woman was terrified but the set of her jaw and the determination in her eyes at least told him she was holding it together, her pace a bit slower than her typical walk. The Guardian buying them a few extra vital seconds. As soon as he broke line of sight with them Alec broke into a run, scrambling for the abandoned house he¡¯d been sleeping in these past few days. In just a couple of minutes later he emerged, wearing all of his gear, and mentally beating himself up over not having been wearing it in the first place. From now on, he quietly swore, he wasn¡¯t going to let a little thing like the midday sun persuade him to take off his body armour. Getting everyone to head for the infirmary proved a simple enough task, though they had been forced to double back where they¡¯d come very close to crossing Ilvere¡¯s path as she escorted what Alec was almost certain was a First Response strike team to her office. Still there had been a singular hiccup, the last place on Alec¡¯s half of the town had been The Melodious Duck, where even now three people sat quietly playing cards. Alec was increasingly sure they¡¯d been sleeping in the tavern. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to interrupt.¡± He told them, urgent if a touch wretched, ¡°But Guardian Ilvere wants everyone to head for the infirmary. There¡¯s a situation.¡± The old man looked up from his hand and met his gaze, blue eyes clear and twinkling with grandfatherly warmth, ¡°That¡¯s kind of you lad, but we¡¯ll be fine here. Best you run along.¡± Alec frowned, ¡°It really is quite serious sir. You could get killed.¡± ¡°If I die. I die.¡± He shrugged, ¡°But I¡¯ve a feeling I¡¯ll be fine. Am I going to die sis?¡± He nodded to the woman at the table, the beautiful lady in a fairly threadbare black robe and cloak, though the difference in age made Alec struggle with the idea they were siblings. The woman chuckled, shaking her head, ¡°I think we¡¯ll be fine young man. But thank you for your concern, let me give you a little something for your journey.¡± She delicately dropped two copper coins into Alec¡¯s hands, ¡°Now hurry to the infirmary, you¡¯ll be safe if you sit this out in Evan¡¯s lab.¡± The teenager accepted the money out of polite habit, looking puzzled, ¡°Are you sure?¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Quite sure.¡± She promised him, ¡°Now if there¡¯s nothing else I have a game of cards to win.¡± ¡°You always win.¡± The old man grumbled, placing down his cards in surrender. Alec didn¡¯t recognise the game but he was guessing a two and a seven was a bad hand. There wasn¡¯t time to argue. Reluctantly the teen headed for the door, only to pause at the moment of egress, turning to stare at the young woman. ¡°Actually there is one thing¡­ could I maybe borrow your robe?¡± * ¡°You took your time.¡± Holly replied, trying to be waspish but only managing worried. ¡°A couple of folks didn¡¯t want to come along.¡± He said, carefully closing the bond as far as it could go. Holly would know that he was hiding something from her, she just wouldn¡¯t be able to tell what it was. ¡°Well hurry, I do not want to be outside if spells start flying and neither do you. Amara¡¯s in position outside the Guardian¡¯s office and Alice is ready to flatten the building if she has to.¡± Holly grumbled, all but running for the trapdoor and hauling it open. ¡°Fine then. Ladies first.¡± Alec gestured to the open hole in the floor. Holly darted down the ladder with almost indecent haste only to open her mouth in an unheard yell as the trapdoor slammed shut, the sound of heavy bolts sliding home followed moments after. ¡®What in Von Mori¡¯s name do you think you¡¯re doing?¡¯ Holly shrieked, managing to force the message through the soul-bond despite his best efforts to keep it clamped shut. ¡®Amara didn¡¯t think it through.¡¯ Alec replied softly, feeling like an absolute heel as he betrayed his friend. With trembling hands he carefully smoothed the carpet over the trapdoor. ¡®If we¡¯d left the trapdoor exposed they¡¯d have found the lab.¡¯ ¡®Oh¡­ that¡¯s a good point. Well let me up and then we¡¯ll close it.¡¯ Holly compromised, thrilled that the apparent lunacy at least had a reason. The teenager bit at his lip, ¡®I can¡¯t do that Holly. You need to seal it from the inside, just in case, and that means you need to be able to see what you¡¯re doing. If everyone else dies you¡¯re the closest thing they¡¯ll have to a mage, their lives depend on you.¡¯ It was again a good point, then again so was Holly¡¯s counterpoint, ¡®If you die then I die to. They¡¯re just as doomed without you as me. Try to find somewhere to hide.¡¯ ¡®I can¡¯t do that either. If they found me they¡¯d conduct a full search. I¡¯m going to go help Amara.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s insane! They¡¯re trained combat mages! They¡¯ll slaughter you.¡¯ Probably. Alec could at least admit that much to himself, but close to thirty people¡¯s lives depended on him and he wasn¡¯t going to let them down. ¡®I¡¯ve got the jacket on and I¡¯ve got a sword.¡¯ As if that would matter a damn, the enemy had swords as well and knew a lot better how to use them. ¡®If I do get killed Evan had bottles of mana infused water in his desk, that should keep you alive for a few days, find my body and drag it to a tree. I¡¯ll try to linger as a ghost, maybe we¡¯ll be able to rebond you.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t technically impossible. Sure he¡¯d have to replicate an advanced magical ritual despite never deliberately casting a spell. And sure he wasn¡¯t even sure if ghosts could cast spells or if becoming a ghost was as simple as wanting to. But it wasn¡¯t technically impossible and he made sure to project certainty and confidence across the bond. ¡®You absolute liar¡­ If you do die then I¡¯m going to be the one that haunts you.¡¯ Alec took a couple of calming breaths, wondering if he¡¯d gone crazy or simply taken a head wound without noticing. It was possible that Ilvere could talk her way out of whatever was happening. That his presence would unbalance an already precarious explanation but something about the sheer terror in the geomancer¡¯s eyes told him they were already well past that point. It also told him that he was going to be hideously, possibly even hilariously, outmatched. It didn¡¯t matter. He¡¯d meant what he¡¯d said. Logic said that if they killed Ilvere, Amara and Alice they would go on to search the town. If they were even vaguely competent they would find him. If they were cruel they would easily find out about the trapdoor. He had to be in the open and he had to provide enough of a threat they had no choice but to kill him. The middle of a fight between a bunch of master mages was probably the best place for that, hells they might even manage to kill him by accident. Slowly he got up from the infirmary bed, pausing as his gaze alighted upon the empty robe of Sato, still laying upon the bed he¡¯d died in, more specific it landed on the brace of combat alchemicals he¡¯d worn. Maybe the playing field wasn¡¯t quite as uneven as he¡¯d initially thought. * Of course nothing was that simple. He may have successfully strongarmed Holly into going along with his plan, the dryad, betrayed as she was feeling, was monitoring his senses for him, trying to give him whatever edge she could so that he might survive his own insane plan, but the other members of Erebus¡¯ motley crew were not so simply subverted. He didn¡¯t get within twenty feet of the door to Ilvere¡¯s office. Instead finding himself dragged out of sight so fast the only reason he didn¡¯t get whiplash was Amara¡¯s hand supporting the back of his neck, her body pressed tight to his to guide him. Normally she¡¯d have placed a hand on his lower back but she¡¯d needed that other hand to cover his yelp of surprise and dragging a human being by just their head tended to be bad for the human. Forget no plan survives contact with the enemy. This plan didn¡¯t even look like it would survive contact with his own allies. ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± Amara hissed in his ear, sibilant and harsh as she pulled him deeper out of sight. It occurred to Alec that he might dangerously jaded by this point, a vampire was literally dragging him into a dark alley and his main response was embarrassment. ¡°I was going to help.¡± He explained lamely, withering under the glare that the pyromancer was giving him. ¡°I see. Because children are renowned for their combat potential.¡± Amara scoffed, still keeping him pinned face first against the wall. ¡°I know I¡¯m outmatched but¡­ if you lost¡­ it was important I died in the fight.¡± The vampire slowly relaxed her grip, ¡°You are far too young to be sacrificing yourself.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think Death cares how low they have to stoop to swing the scythe.¡± Alec countered, ¡°You all agreed I could be part of this. This isn¡¯t me charging in blindly, I know the risks. I know there¡¯s a damn good chance I get killed but they have you outnumbered. I¡¯ve got armour and I have a blade, that means they have to at least take me seriously.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been spending too much time with Erebus.¡± Amara grumbled but released him all the same. ¡°Fine but if I tell you to disengage, you do so.¡± ¡°But if they-¡° ¡°Because that means either we have to bring Alice in or I can handle it on my own.¡± She continued over him. ¡°Fine.¡± Alec conceded, pleased to at least be taken seriously. He gave his gear a quick double check then headed for the door. ¡°Hurry then.¡± The vampire urged him, ¡°The conversation is not going well.¡± The teenager pressed his ear to wood, eyes closed as he focused on his hearing. ¡°A death zone opens up after centuries and you honestly expect us to believe you¡¯ve no idea what happened?¡± A harsh and brassy voice scoffed, ¡°You¡¯re a poor liar girl.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you!¡± Ilvere yelled back, frustrated from repetition, ¡°It¡¯s not been centuries. If you aren¡¯t lying about the year it¡¯s been a week! If that!¡± ¡°This is getting us nowhere.¡± A more feminine voice groaned, ¡°Let¡¯s just search the town and have done.¡± ¡°No! I forbid it!¡± Ilvere snapped. Alec could almost picture her stood behind John¡¯s desk, one hand on her wand, face slowly purpling with barely constrained rage. The teenager had to hold back a sigh, the deputy Guardian was indeed a poor liar. The smart thing to do would have been to let them search the town and just try and keep everyone out of their way. ¡°You forbid it?¡± The woman¡¯s voice hissed, ¡°You have no authority here child. I don¡¯t know who you really are but you¡¯re certainly no Guardian.¡± There was a shocked gasp and the distinctive schlurk of someone pulling a blade free from a body. Alec let out a gasp of his own, just about managing to muffle it with a palm. A quick glance to his side showed Amara still in the mouth of the alley, the vampire had taken off her robe, muscles rippling as she tensed down into a crouch, ebony skin aglow from barely restrained ignition. ¡°Was that wise?¡± The brassy voice asked with nothing more than light curiosity. ¡°She wasn¡¯t going to talk.¡± Another man¡¯s voice answered simply, cold as an arctic blizzard. ¡°It¡¯s one less variable to worry about.¡± ¡°If he isn¡¯t here then we just killed an innocent woman.¡± A third man pointed out evenly, not bothering to hide the judgement in his tone. ¡°A death zone opens up the day we get a tip off he¡¯s hiding in a death zone and you don¡¯t think Erebus is responsible?¡± The second man retorted icily, ¡°If you honestly believe that then your training was wasted.¡± ¡°Stranger things have happened.¡± The third replied soft as satin, but there was a core of steel there as well suggesting that for all his level tones the second man would find him as immovable as any mountain on this matter. ¡°If I was wrong then feel free to hand me in at the end of this, but I¡¯m not wrong.¡± ¡°We should report in.¡± A second woman said, the last of the five spoke with all the seriousness of the grave. ¡°If he is here then we¡¯ll want backup to take him down.¡± ¡°Are you kidding?¡± The first woman snapped, ¡°I am not splitting that bounty. The fae courts have promised a domain to whomsoever slays him.¡± ¡°Better a bounty split many ways than a funeral split one.¡± The third man pointed out, ¡°We should call it in.¡± The first man, presumably the leader, answered next, forcing Alec¡¯s hand in the process. ¡°I¡¯ll call it in.¡± Trembling slightly he rapped his knuckles hesitantly upon the door, ¡°Guardian Ilvere?¡± He called through the timber, not having to fake the uncertainty pouring from his words, ¡°Is everything okay in there?¡± The office went silent and Alec had to resist the urge to dive aside, his mind¡¯s eye playing him a picture of one of the mages levelling their battlestave at the door and sending a burst of power through both it and him. Instead the door opened, there was no ominous creak though Alec was damn sure there should have been. The teenager stepped inside, it was a fight to keep his cool but it was a fight he was equipped to win. An idle part of his mind wondered if the old monk who had trained him to regulate his emotions had known some of the future he¡¯d be facing, Erebus certainly had when he¡¯d built upon those same lessons. Carefully he resisted the urge to sneak a glance behind the desk where he knew Ilvere¡¯s body lay, one of the mages stood there in necromancer black, presumably the man that had done the deed. ¡°Can we help you mageling?¡± He asked calmly, pale blue eyes boring into his from beneath his head. Alec could feel their consideration as he stood there in his borrowed robe. He certainly wouldn¡¯t pass as a full fledged necromancer but he wasn¡¯t trying to. With a robe several sizes too big for him and threadbare to boot it was easy enough to sell the idea he was an apprentice, and the bagginess did a good job of hiding his armour. Hopefully. ¡°Guardian Ilvere wished me to tell her when I was done burying the dead.¡± He answered politely, without knowing what lie the geomancer had tried to sell them he just spun his own instead. ¡°I see. I am afraid the Guardian had to leave to attend another matter. Perhaps we can be of assistance?¡± Their leader murmured from behind him, forcing Alec to turn to address the pyromancer. A tall gangly figure with a shock of copper hair. It was one of the hardest things he¡¯d ever done, turning his back to the very man who had stabbed Ilvere in hers, but he managed it with barely a glimmer of tension in his shoulders. Hopefully that would pass unremarked, what apprentice wouldn¡¯t be tense when addressing unfamiliar master mages? ¡°If you could sir that would be greatly appreciated, Guardian Ilvere was going to help with raising the headstones¡­ I¡¯d do it myself but¡­¡± He gestured to his black robe, ¡°I¡¯m more earth worm than earth mage.¡± ¡°I suppose we can give you a few pointers lad.¡± The fire mage assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder, ¡°You don¡¯t apprentice at the Vulcanus without picking up a little geomancy.¡± ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you.¡± Alec smiled, trying to move towards the door. If he could just get them into the open then Amara would have a good chance of picking them off. He got about two steps away before jerking sharply, being pulled back by the pyromancer¡¯s grip on his shoulder. ¡°Before we go,¡± The mage began, smiling broadly, ¡°there¡¯s a small matter you might be able to help us with. We¡¯ve been sent to find a rogue necromancer who was last seen travelling with a young man, a dryad and two mages. I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any chance you¡¯ve seen him Alec?¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 18 - The Sunwalker Unleashed Alec could have kicked himself, quite possibly to death. It certainly would have saved the First Response team the trouble. He considered just denying it flatly but the moment of hesitation had already cost him the time needed to make his protests convincing. It occurred to the teenager that he was, in fact, an idiot. Of course his description had been passed along by Janiah, hells possibly even by Lutan as well, and he¡¯d never even considered it. All his efforts had amounted to nothing more than handing Erebus¡¯ pursuers a hostage. Alec wracked his brains on how best to help his missing mentor, eventually settling upon telling the truth. ¡°He¡¯s not here, hasn¡¯t been for days.¡± ¡°I see. Any reason I should believe you?¡± His captor asked politely. ¡°You¡¯re listed as an accomplice.¡± ¡°Accomplice in what?¡± Alec protested, not quite stamping his foot. ¡°The slaughter of Mori¡¯s Respite, attempted murder of a Lord Protector, murder of a fae lord and the attempted murder of the Lord of Autumn.¡± The pyromancer replied, stepping back sharply as Alec actually took a swing at him. ¡°That lying, scum-sucking, duplicitous, murdering jackass!¡± The teenager roared, going for a second swing as the others managed to grab hold of his arms, fury giving him strength enough they had to struggle slightly to do it. ¡°That¡¯s a hell of an accusation.¡± The third man commented, revealing himself to be one of the two paladins attached to the squad. A broad-shouldered and rather towering auburn haired gentleman with a five o¡¯clock shadow doing nothing to soften his tanned features. ¡°Lutan tried to kill me!¡± He yelled back, ¡°He used null manacles on Holly! He kidnapped Von Mori!¡± ¡°Unlikely.¡± The young paladin replied, ¡°What you¡¯re describing would be unconscionable and borderline impossible besides, a creature of Von Mori¡¯s strength could not be suborned by a mortal man.¡± ¡°So the question becomes what do we do with the kid?¡± The pyromancer shook his head despairingly. It was Alec had to admit an important question, for himself especially. The necromancer shrugged, ¡°Simplify the situation.¡± He replied as he drew a finger across his throat theatrically. The paladin winced, ¡°I would prefer if no innocent blood were spilled.¡± ¡°That ship has already sailed.¡± The other paladin, a middle-aged woman who could very well have been Janiah¡¯s twin, stated frankly. ¡°A hostage could be useful.¡± The remaining mage suggested sweetly, the woman who¡¯s pale green robe Alec had been unable to identify. ¡°Erebus has a reputation for sentiment.¡± It occurred to Alec it was probably a good idea to agree with that. It also occurred to him that as the hostage in question his opinion was essentially meaningless. Fortunately the younger paladin was quick to second his green robed ally, ¡°Even the most hard hearted of fiends would hesitate when a child¡¯s life is at stake.¡± The side-eye he was giving his more violent colleagues made it quite clear he didn¡¯t just mean Erebus. ¡°How do we handle this then? We¡¯ve no way of knowing when or even if Erebus will return, if he¡¯s even absent in the first place.¡± The pyromancer mused. ¡°We can be fairly certain he¡¯s not here at the moment or he¡¯d have attacked the moment Cal suggested killing the boy. Hells he¡¯d never have allowed him to approach us in the first place.¡± The green mage pointed out. ¡°We need somewhere to hole up then. Somewhere defensible.¡± The necromancer, Cal, pointed out. ¡°I¡¯d suggest the infirmary, it¡¯s larger and there¡¯s only one entrance or exit.¡± Alec managed to swallow his wince, the worst case scenario continuing to unfold before him. The candle of hope still burned brightly in his chest however, if they were going to move him to the infirmary then Amara would certainly get a chance to strike and they hadn¡¯t even thought him enough of a threat to even disarm him. For all that it was galling to be seen as little more than a child playing dress up, it at least gave him a chance. If he was right about Amara, and it was a big if, she¡¯d try to take out at least two of them in the opening attack and it wouldn¡¯t be whoever was assigned to keep him under control. Fire, even under the control of a master pyromancer, was still fire. Or so he¡¯d been told. Alec had his doubts about that, he¡¯d seen both Erebus and Amara do things with magical flames that defied his understanding, but the point was that heat had a tendency to bloom and the energy needed to kill a person in an instant would certainly give him flash burns from being too close. The pyromancer came to a conclusion, ¡°Arkos, keep the boy prisoner. We¡¯ll fortify the infirmary and wait a week, if he¡¯s not back by then we were never here. Keep your shields up, just because Erebus isn¡¯t here doesn¡¯t mean the mages that sprung him aren¡¯t. Everyone understand?¡± There were murmurs of agreement, though the man-mountain of Arkos didn¡¯t seem happy about it. Nevertheless he did his duty, clamping a gauntleted grip on Alec¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I do not wish to hurt you but if you run then I will.¡± The words as regretful as morning rain, and, in Alec¡¯s mind, meaning about as little. As unhappy as the paladin was about it, he was still following the orders. Slowly the group left the Guardian¡¯s office, Arkos keeping Alec in front as a shield. The teenager didn¡¯t tense, not only would it have given away that he was expecting something but it would make breaking away from the paladin knight much harder. Quietly Alec resolved that if he survived this he was going to buy Saiko a beer. The attack came the moment the door closed on Ilvere¡¯s office. A cerulean lance of fire that made Cal more or less explode as the blood in his body boiled instantly into steam, the beam piercing straight through the necromancer¡¯s skin-tight shield as if it were no more than a soap bubble. Behind Cal the office¡¯s outer wall caught fire, a particularly concerning development given it had been built from stone. A second lance splashed off an invisible bubble shield around the team leader, the pyromancer going so far as the drop the shield and redirect the flames with his own magic, sending it right back at Amara. It was a good call. The vampire¡¯s fire had a mana-devouring component and few shields could hold out against it. Alec took that as his cue, not pulling away from Arkos but moving inwards in that moment of surprise, grabbing the wrist of the paladin¡¯s grip and turning sharply to send the armoured behemoth over his hip, ass over teakettle. The rest of the First Response team reacted swiftly, the green robed mage stepping up to support her leader. It turned out the pale green robe denoted an aeromancer, a master of air magic, who proved equally a problem for Amara as she summoned a harsh wind at their backs, making any flames much harder for Amara to push through the gap between them and easier for their leader. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It was a clever solution, and also standard practice, which meant Amara was prepared for it. The vampire had leapt over the lance of redirected flame, bounded off a wall and had already closed half the distance bounding on all fours like some form of hairless wolf or perhaps large hunting cat. That at least made it clear why she¡¯d taken the time to strip down, she¡¯d never have been able to move like that in a heavy robe without tripping over it. Against just mages, even veteran ones, that would likely have been the end of it. A vampire in close quarters was one of Reath¡¯s deadlier threats, but there was still one member of the team unaccounted for. The weathered paladin stepped forwards to meet Amara even as their leader let out a loud cry of ¡°Vampire!¡± The swordswoman wasn¡¯t as fast as Amara, not even close, nor as strong, but her armour stopped the glowing mage from simply pulling an arm off or clawing chunks out of her chest and the reach provided by her sword kept the monster at bay. A second use for Amara¡¯s near-nudity revealed itself. The barely restrained ignition where the vampire was being exposed to direct sunlight was turning her into a veritable beacon, it made aiming spells at her a lot harder and keeping track of her arms a hell of a lot harder. Alec saw little of this, too consumed by his own problems. He might have successfully thrown Arkos but that hadn¡¯t gotten him free and clear. The paladin was a professional fighter and he¡¯d rolled to his feet almost instantly, drawing his longsword. The teenager had drawn out his spatha, unclipping the sheathe in a practiced motion and letting it run parallel to his forearm. The two men stared at each other, daring the other to make the first move. Alec very slowly and carefully unclasped his cloak, not letting his gaze wander from Arkos as it spooled down around his feet, the teenager kicking it aside, sure it revealed his body armour and the bandoleer of phials on his chest but having freedom to move properly was a vital part of not getting stabbed in a vital part. ¡°Someone trained you well.¡± The paladin observed calmly, ¡°But you must see you are outmatched. Surrender and I won¡¯t have to hurt you.¡± It was a fair point. The spatha was not a very long blade, and Arkos had over a foot of height on him and full body armour compared to his lone vest. Saiko could probably have won, but it was a distant prospect that Alec could beat the paladin in a sword fight. As in from here to the sun levels of distant. Which was why Alec had no intention of getting into a sword fight with him. ¡°Someone trained you well.¡± Alec echoed, trying to channel his inner Erebus, ¡°But you must see you are outmatched. Surrender and I won¡¯t have to hurt you.¡± Arkos laughed, a deep bass rumble of genuine mirth, ¡°Very well.¡± Fights are seldom long affairs, especially when naked steel was involved. Genuine masters like Saiko and the Swordsman might be capable of an extended duel but most swordfights lasted little more than a few moments. The paladin led with a heavy overhead strike, holding his blade in two hands. There was no way Alec would be able to block it, at least not with the spatha. The scabbard instead rose to catch the blade, the sword biting deep into it but not slicing through. It ruined Arkos¡¯ intended follow up, having to yank the blade back to try and free it. It didn¡¯t work, Alec releasing the sheathe instead as he brought his own blade down on the paladin¡¯s swordarm. It didn¡¯t achieve much, just bouncing off the armour but it kept Arkos¡¯ sword arm out of play for a few moments as Alec selected a phial from Sato¡¯s bandoleer at random and threw it at the paladin, diving away and to the ground for good measure. There was no explosion, no thundercrack or other blast of terrible power. For a moment Alec feared he¡¯d accidentally grabbed some kind of healing potion, or possibly even cleaning agent ¨C Sato hadn¡¯t been kind enough to label his things ¨C but then Arkos began to scream. Looking up from his groundhog impression Alec watched in horror as the paladin simply began to melt, enchanted armour and all. Thankfully for Alec¡¯s sanity the screaming didn¡¯t last long, flesh shouldn¡¯t melt but it was managing it anyway and once the phial¡¯s effect got deep into Arkos¡¯ chest the sound turned into a wretched gurgle and then merciful silence. The teenager stared in horrified disbelief at the puddle of paladin, his blade falling numbly from trembling fingers. He knew he should be trying to help Amara, but right now it was all he could do not to throw up. Scratch that, it wasn¡¯t something he could do and a gratuitously large pool of vomit began to mingle with what was left of Arkos. Amara¡¯s fight wasn¡¯t going half so well. She might have been stronger, faster and better at magic, but it was very hard to be all three of those things at once. If she tried to back off and blast them with spellwork the paladin would harry and harass her. If she tried to overbear and overpower the paladin she¡¯d be cut apart by the mages¡¯ spells and as wonderful as superior speed was it so far wasn¡¯t allowing her to bring to bear the power, magical or physical, needed to kill them. The situation was worse than that, the blinding effect of ¡®vampire trying not to catch fire¡¯ was damn useful and had certainly saved her life several times in the last half-minute but she was beginning to blister and sizzle audibly and the spell was getting harder to maintain as her concentration wavered and waned. They would whittle her down like this. The mages weren¡¯t even bothering with shields anymore, not only could Amara destroy them but it was simply easier to redirect her flames and the paladin was making sure she couldn¡¯t close with them. They¡¯d obviously done this particular song and dance before, perhaps not pyromancer and vampire at once but certainly separately. Amara had had enough. The vampire flipped back over an invisible blade of air that had been intended to bisect her at the waist, making distance before she pointed an index finger at the paladin then closed her eyes. There was a flash of actinic light, lighting up Amara¡¯s vision even through her dark eyelids. Opening her eyes again she saw the two mages reeling, temporarily blinded though they at least had sense enough to summon their shields and send more spells in her general direction to try and keep her off their backs. The paladin hadn¡¯t been so lucky. The fire spell Amara had used didn¡¯t rely on foolish things like conduction or convection, air meant nothing to it. A beam of hideous radiation, heat in its purest form, no thicker than finger and totally invisible, had taken her in the chest, pierced the protective runes and vaporized the metal and had done the same to the back of her gleaming mail for good measure. The armour fell down in several pieces, not from any damage done to it by Amara but because the owner was now nothing more than a pile of glowing ashes pooling in the greaves. It was perhaps a testament to the runesmith¡¯s skill that the armour had held up as well as it had but it was little solace for the paladin¡¯s comrades. They were facing a vampire, and their best defence was dead. What followed was as inevitable as it was swift. Amara slaking her thirst from a defiant pyromancer who even now was trying to put punches into her short ribs, her magic locked down by the much stronger mage. Amara ignored the punches as she stared in bemusement at the hand she¡¯d used to fire the spell. Her index finger was gone. Simply gone. At the point where finger met hand there was a perfect circle of scorched flesh, rapidly healing. The finger remained gone. Vampires could, in theory, heal from lost limbs, given enough blood and enough time, but Amara suspected she wasn¡¯t going to be using her writing hand for several decades at least. Fire was the best weapon against vampires for a reason, the wounds had a nasty habit of sticking around well past their welcome. It had been necessary. In a single moment she¡¯d pulled back the spell protecting her from catching fire and instead accelerated the process, all the energy of burning the digit to less than ash, and vampires burned very energetically, all channelled into a single moment, amplified by one of the finest pyromancers the Academy Vulcanus could lay claim to, and then projected at her foe. Finishing her meal Amara put her robe back on, putting the hood up for good measure. Even with a mage¡¯s worth of vitae she was exhausted and not in the mood for having to fend off the sun¡¯s rays for a good long while. It was only then she walked over to poor Alec, the teenager still dry-heaving onto the worn cobbles. ¡°Nasty way to go.¡± She noted, staring at the puddle that had been Arkos. ¡°You did well. Better than I expected.¡± She sought the words to try and ease his heart. She didn¡¯t find any. Slowly she helped him to his feet instead, Alec unsteady in his queasiness. The young man had seen death before, up close, but he¡¯d never been the one to do the deed before. The horror of the kill had been an unwelcome bonus. ¡°H-Holly¡¯s in the infirmary.¡± He managed, gulping down air before cautiously pulling away from her. That wasn¡¯t a meeting he was particularly looking forwards to either. Holly¡¯s descriptions of what she was going to do to him were getting both increasingly graphic and anatomically unlikely. That at least was comforting. It was nice to see the tree spirit had maintained the prickly nature of her namesake. Oathkeeper - Chapter 19 - The Great Web Beneath The hidden village of the arachni had proven close. The journey took the best part of an hour, though the arachni at least had the decency not to extend the journey by obfuscating their route. They were hiding from a single foe and the shadows weren¡¯t exactly renowned for their interrogation or map making tendencies. An hour of total silence was still incredibly unpleasant, and it was with gratitude they were helped into the small hole that was the entrance to the village. They clearly had a skilled mage for no sooner had they gotten through it than the stone flowed to block the entrance, sealing them inside. It wasn¡¯t quite airtight, arachni did need to breath afterall. Then, and only then, there was light. It wasn¡¯t much, just a glimmer of bioluminescent blue from some of the mushrooms that festooned the walls but it was blinding enough that it felt like Erebus was having the retinas seared from his eyes. Tears poured freely from the tender orbs as he blinked furiously, resisting the urge to simply hold his eyes shut. It didn¡¯t take him long to adjust to the dim gloom¡¯s terrible brightness, the light revealing an archanophobe¡¯s most terrifying fever dream. Giant spiders scuttled everywhere, down the walls, across the floor and ceiling, all heading in their direction. To someone who didn¡¯t know arachni body language it would have seemed like they were being swarmed in an attack. A thought that had him instantly grabbing Lana¡¯s wrist before her blade could clear its sheathe. Fortunately for Erebus¡¯ peace of mind he did know the arachni, they were merely curious and eager to greet the visitors to their home. With so many arachni in close proximity Groundspeak was useless, which he knew was the only reason they¡¯d even permitted light in even this, their inner sanctum. To be fair plain old Arachni wasn¡¯t much use either, at least for Erebus, the language was a purely visual one, spiders lacking such fancy inventions as tongues or throats with which to speak, and the clamouring horde were too tightly packed for him to make out what was being said. Then a voice rang out from somewhere close to him, beautifully mellow, like a fine wine. It was a voice that should have belonged to an elderly stateswoman, regal yes, commanding certainly, but softened by wisdom and kindness. ¡°Back off a little children, you are scaring our guests.¡± Glancing to either side of him provided no clue as to the speaker¡¯s identity. Erebus rested his face in his palm as memory and realisation dawned, the necromancer looked up¡­ and up¡­ and up. Directly above them lay Ariadne, first-born daughter of Ariadne, back and back and back to the progenitor of the entire species. Inheritor of her power and her will and by who¡¯s grace and power this small village had survived even the predations of the Encroaching Darkness. She was simply enormous, if most arachni grew to the size of a horse, Ariadne was the size of a building. Few arachni could generate the kind of magicka needed to support such a size, that she was a spellcaster in her own right was merely a bonus. She was also dead and the line of Ariadne had died with her. Now that she wasn¡¯t trying to conceal her presence it washed over Erebus and Natalya like a wave, rocking them both back a half step. Here before them was a lich, and not a weak one either, her very presence flavouring the mana around her. She should have been a beacon to the shadows, an all you can eat buffet advertised in large font, and yet outside of the village they¡¯d not gleaned even a whisper of her existence. Not even Erebus, who¡¯d known to look for it. ¡°You return to the Great Web of the Caverns Beneath child.¡± Ariadne not quite asking a question, ¡°and in unusual company.¡± The voice really was just beautiful and the necromancer could see why she¡¯d picked it. If he really focused he could make out the slight fluctuations of mana in the air where she was creating it. There was no spell there, at least not as he understood the term. Ariadne was simply weaving the mana into the right shapes, the effects happening not from the shape she¡¯d created but the subtle ripples as it relaxed back into place. It was humbling, a sign that for all his strength and skill there was still a long way to go on the path of magic. It was practically the opposite of a spell and he wondered if even his master had known this could be done. He¡¯d have rejected the idea once upon a time, the idea that any aspect of magic could have escaped the imperator¡¯s notice was almost anathema. But he¡¯d seen too much since he¡¯d returned to Reath. Nowadays if asked he¡¯d firmly declare not even the primordials knew all there was to know about magic. ¡°Not so unusual.¡± Erebus replied smoothly, ¡°I¡¯m often in the company of friends.¡± ¡°Then they are welcome in our web for so long as they wish to remain.¡± Ariadne promised, reaching out an immense leg to pat him kindly upon the shoulder, ¡°though I have a suspicion you wish not to linger long.¡± ¡°You remain perceptive Great Ariadne.¡± He nodded, ¡°I am bound for the uttermost depths, there has been a prophecy of apocalypse and wiser heads than mine believe one of the triggers may be there. I am to lay protections there such that your great enemy cannot pierce them for a thousand years.¡± Natalya gave him a somewhat bemused look, not used to her friend simply sharing vital information without preamble or drama. It was a serious enough change in demeanour that she resolved to check him for charm or compulsion at the first opportunity. ¡°A heavy burden worthy of the heroes of old.¡± Ariadne pronounced gravely, ¡°Yet you find us in little position to render aid.¡± ¡°I did not come for aid. Your people were kind enough to take me in, to teach me and to accept me as one of your own. I would be a poor friend if I did not give you warning of the calamity to come.¡± ¡°True enough. Please, go rest, we shall at least give you what food and light we can spare for your journey. Weaver of New Tales has missed you dearly, doubtless she will wish to catch up.¡± Erebus carefully didn¡¯t look at his companions, he didn¡¯t have to. Lana would simply be stood passive and aloof, the dalliances of mortals meant little to her, at least when the dalliance wasn¡¯t with her personally. Susan almost certainly would be entirely unreadable, without a facial expression she could have been standing with jaw open in shock and he never could have told. Natalya though¡­ the dry amusement he could feel rolling off of her was downright gratuitous. Her deep green eyes would be almost aglow with laughter unvoiced. Ignoring the three of them studiously, he bowed to Ariadne before he headed for the hole in the floor that he¡¯d been homed in when last he¡¯d visited. It was exactly as he remembered it, which meant it hadn¡¯t gone untouched. At the very least someone had been dusting it regularly, even looking after the books and rather battered journal he¡¯d left there. The hole in the stone wasn¡¯t big enough for all four of them to set up camp so Erebus merely retrieved his stuff as the rest laid out their bedrolls around it. ¡°How long did you spend down here?¡± Susan inquired, sat crosslegged and carefully not watching the way the arachni were watching her. ¡°Oh a fair while. It took me the best part of a year to even find the village.¡± The necromancer smiled, laying back on the his bed to stare up at the cerulean glow of the mushrooms on the ceiling. ¡°Another month of them pretending they didn¡¯t exist. A few weeks of them trying to scare me away lest my presence reveal them.¡± ¡°I¡¯m surprised they didn¡¯t kill you.¡± Lana hissed, her own bedroll right next to Erebus¡¯, not that she had any intention of sleeping, ¡°It would have been the simpler course of action.¡± ¡°But also the most dangerous. A magical duel would have drawn the shadows down upon them.¡± The necromancer explained patiently, ¡°Now are you telling this story or am I?¡± ¡°If you wish I will tell it, it certainly would save us time.¡± The ex-succubus jested, probably. With an unseen roll of her eyes Susan put a hand over the devil¡¯s mouth, ignoring the sudden scuttling around them as hundreds of arachni watched the shadow move to devour the poor creature only for nothing to happen. ¡°Please continue.¡± She all but ordered over Lana¡¯s muffled sounds of outrage. The devil bearing a more than passing resemblance to an apoplectic cockerel. ¡°Eventually they let me in. I spent the next two weeks webbed to the ceiling whilst Arachne took council on what to do with me.¡± He laughed, wry and wicked in his reminiscence, ¡°I hadn¡¯t bargained on them having an archmage in their pocket. I was far too young and arrogant back then.¡± ¡°Oh how things change¡­¡± Natalya drawled, sarcasm not just dripping from observation but managing a veritable impression of a flash flood. ¡°Do I need to get Susan to muzzle you as well?¡± Her ex-prot¨¦g¨¦ retorted, ¡°Anyway, they decided not to kill me. Instead asking me what I was doing there, which frankly could have saved a lot of time if done earlier but I¡¯m not an ancient spider-lich descended directly from a line of cursed archmages so there might have been some subtlety I missed. When that remark failed to get any reaction beyond mild bristling from the arachni eavesdropping, he ploughed on, ¡°I told her I wished to learn umbramancy from her. She refused, naturally. That and demanded to know how I¡¯d know they had shadow magic to teach in the first place.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind knowing that one myself.¡± Susan grumbled, still stifling Lana¡¯s token protests, and they certainly were token protests, the pride demon going so far as to pull Susan into her lap. A situation Erebus decided he wasn¡¯t going to pry into in the slightest. Either Lana was doing it to be annoying or it was absolutely none of his business. ¡°Oh it wasn¡¯t much. My application to join Second Response had been rejected due to lack of diversity in my spellcraft and they had recommended I learn a travel magic, umbramancy was the one I decided to go with.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t an answer.¡± His fellow necromancer told him sharply. ¡°It¡¯s not even a hint.¡± ¡°Well I needed a teacher didn¡¯t I? And I wanted something unique to bring to the table rather than just returning as another Umbral Temple cardboard cutout. So I naturally began looking up devils with a propensity for shadow magic¡­¡± ¡°Again I note an absence of magic wielding spiders in this tale.¡± Nat despaired, throwing her hands up in the air in near pathological exasperation, ¡°If I stab you will answers come out instead of blood?¡± ¡°I was getting to that!¡± He protested, still staring up at the ceiling, ¡°It was the entry for Azzarala the Carrion. It spoke of how he¡¯d been taught by the arachni that lurked beneath Reath how to conceal himself from even the most hungry of thaumavores, how to weave shadows into solid objects and wield them as weapons. Well naturally I tried to summon Azzarala that very night.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°You failed?¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± Erebus shrugged, ¡°Let it just be said that I didn¡¯t get the knowledge I was looking for. Which just left the source.¡± ¡°A source that was officially not just dead but very dead.¡± Lana pointed out, ¡°It is nice to see your recklessness has at least remained consistent.¡± The necromancer gave his bodyguard a weary glance, ¡°I am what I am, and I refuse to live my life in fear.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a fine line between bravery and recklessness Ere.¡± Nat chastised, if gently. It wasn¡¯t like she was unsympathetic to that point of view, risking one¡¯s life and career to protect a wayward ex-subordinate could be regarded as reckless afterall. ¡°And an even finer one between caution and paranoia.¡± He countered with the swiftness of repetition. ¡°I fear we¡¯re getting off-topic.¡± Susan interjected. ¡°Indeed we are.¡± Erebus said, chagrin written across his sallow features, ¡°I had reason to believe the arachni had survived down here, it wasn¡¯t much to go on. Just an idle comment from Dus, the Seruatis librarian. I don¡¯t know how familiar you all are with her history but she and the arachni webs go way, way back.¡± ¡°And this idle comment was¡­?¡± Nat asked when nothing more was forthcoming, quite sick of her friend¡¯s melodramatic style of storytelling. ¡°That she wished her niece would visit.¡± ¡°Her niece?¡± Susan asked, befuddled and not bothering to obscure the fact. Erebus let that linger just a moment before he stared pointedly at the ceiling where Ariadne lurked. The great spider didn¡¯t so much as twitch but an astute watcher would note that at no point had they left the vision of at least one of her many eyes. ¡°My aunt is thoughtful. If any of you survive to see her please send her my fondest regards and my regrets at my inability to go to her. Duty compels me to remain here.¡± The soft voice hadn¡¯t originated from the great carcass that was the world¡¯s sole spider-lich, instead it might as well have been sat down next to them. ¡°Oh. I almost forgot. Assume anything you say here everyone can hear. Because they can.¡± Erebus warned belatedly. ¡°Hang on¡­ you said you weren¡¯t counting on them having an archmage, yet you went exploring because a librarian had hinted Ariadne was alive?¡± Susan spotting an apparent hole in the web Erebus was weaving. ¡°She hinted an Ariadne was alive, not that the Ariadne that had last been seen over ten thousand years ago was still alive. The name is inherited, like a title almost. I was expecting ¡®Ariadne, highly talented mage and peer, not Ariadne, Archmage of Shadows and Eldest Lich.¡¯¡± The necromancer explained, ¡°Seriously, I don¡¯t think even the Necropolis has a lich that old.¡± ¡°Is it no longer rude amongst humans to discuss a woman¡¯s age?¡± Ariadne grumbled. Natalya gave that a lot of thought, ¡°I think the oldest surviving lich we have is Yttrian the Adamantine, and she¡¯s only three thousand years old. Give or take a century.¡± ¡°Anyway, they did eventually decide to teach me¡­ but there were a few conditions.¡± Erebus continued, ¡°Firstly I was never to share the magic they taught me with a non-arachni. That one they had me take an oath. Secondly I was never to reveal their location to anyone¡­ which I have technically stuck to. If they hadn¡¯t approached us I¡¯d have passed them by.¡± ¡°A technicality I will allow, this time.¡± Ariadne hissed, and it was a real hiss, the lich stripping the kindness and warmth from her magical voice to become something truly inhuman. ¡°And I thank you for your graciousness oh wise one.¡± The necromancer remarked swiftly, and not even a surgical examination could find even the hint of the sarcasm all were certain was there. ¡°Was there a thirdly?¡± Susan asked, ¡°Usually you don¡¯t start a list unless you¡¯ve at least three points.¡± ¡°The third point was an issue on our end.¡± The great arachni told them, ¡°We don¡¯t allow our magic to be taught to people who aren¡¯t members of the village, and as persuasive an orator the necromancer proved we would not be swayed on this issue.¡± ¡°Then how-?¡± Nat began, stopping herself as she decided not to provoke the ancient arachni archmage. ¡°Some of us thought our great ancestor a little strict and hidebound.¡± A new voice answered the unfinished question, and it didn¡¯t have half the deference even Erebus had used. ¡°Weaver of New Tales, this is a private conversation.¡± Ariadne sighed. The four humans, or at least humanoids, turned to face the new arachni. She was small for an arachni, more large dog than small horse, but what stuck out most was that she was colourful. Literally. Amidst the dark browns, deep greys and all consuming black of her fellow spiderfolk, Weaver of New Tales stood out, a vibrant, almost opalescent blue, literally glowing in some places where she¡¯d either taken to eating or smearing the glowing mushrooms on her carapace. The oddness of the spider was only further accentuated, her two primary, forwards facing eyes had a pair of spectacles fastened firmly to them, although the series of lenses probably didn¡¯t deserve that designation but no one else there had a better term for them. Even as they watched she used her two forelegs to flick a few of the lenses in and out of place to get the resolution she was after. ¡°I prefer to think of it as a family conversation.¡± The arachni chided, stepping in amongst the group to rest companionably against Erebus¡¯ leg, the necromancer didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°It is good to see you so well, though you¡¯ve grown sloppy at hiding yourself. I felt your magicka from across the village.¡± ¡°I see no need to hide myself when amongst friends.¡± The necromancer smiled, reaching down to rub at the top of her carapace, only for the spider to irritably swipe at the spot he¡¯d touched. Erebus a true multilingual menace when he chose to be. ¡°It is good to see you alive teacher. I feared time would have done for you by now even if the enemy had not.¡± ¡°Titles is it?¡± Weaver laughed, though the spider was completely still even as her voice verily shook with mirth. ¡°Very well. Do you want to complete the tale or shall I, husband?¡± ¡°Do you blame me? You knock yourself out on the ceiling just once and suddenly everyone decides your name is Clumsy Bug.¡± Erebus grumbled, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed its playfulness. ¡°So you and Erebus?¡± Natalya inquired, with the caution of a bomb-disposal technician who¡¯s worried that not only do they not know which wire to cut but is starting to quietly suspect they should have told their boss they were colour-blind. ¡°What can I say it was a whirlwind romance.¡± Weaver replied, fussing with her pedipalps in something that seemed to at least approximate embarrassment, ¡°You know what they say about love at first sight well the moment he walked into the Great Web I knew that he was the one.¡± ¡°It was a marriage of political convenience that allowed me to circumvent the ¡®residents only¡¯ rule and let Weaver of New Tales undermine Ariadne in the process.¡± Erebus said flatly. ¡°Spoilsport.¡± The blue spider grumbled, ¡°Don¡¯t make me web you to the wall. I¡¯ll do it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not some na?ve youngster you can bully around anymore Weaver.¡± Her husband grumbled. ¡°But you¡¯ll let me do it anyway.¡± She said airily, patting him reassuringly on the back. Clearly she¡¯d spent long enough teaching Erebus to pick up some basic human body language and gestures. ¡°You find the bickering comforting.¡± ¡°He does doesn¡¯t he.¡± Natalya giggled, ¡°So was the marriage ever¡­ consummated?¡± Erebus rolled his eyes, gaze ending up on the ceiling, though whether it was divine intervention he was after of Ariadne¡¯s it was hard to tell. Either way both ignored his plight. Weaver of New Tales took a couple moments to clean her palps before answering, ¡°Oh yes. He was simply marvelous. You primates are so fortunate to have tongues because-¡° ¡°No. Arachni traditionally eat their mate.¡± Her husband cut in, trying to kill that topic in the cradle. ¡°You really hate fun don¡¯t you?¡± Weaver whined, ¡°Come on, what harm would it have done?¡± ¡°Anyway. Weaver agreed to teach me arachni shadowweaving as a way to try and break Ariadne of her isolationism. It failed and once I had learned what I sought I left to travel to the Academy Vulcanus to train under Amara.¡± Erebus explained. Less dodging the question than denying its existence entirely. ¡°Has anyone else noticed that all his teachers are women?¡± Susan asked, ignoring Erebus¡¯s comic look of betrayal. ¡°And you?¡± The necromancer gasped, one hand over his heart as he staggered. ¡°I had.¡± Natalya smirked, thriving on his discomfort, ¡°Me. Amara. Weaver. Lana. The imperator he trained under. Then there¡¯s his whole crush on Dus¡­ I should probably dig into who his teachers were at Necropolis.¡± ¡°Is there something you¡¯re trying to say Nat?¡± He sighed, realisation finally dawning that he wasn¡¯t going to be able to stop this conversation without violence. And even then he¡¯d probably just end up webbed to the ceiling having to listen to it anyway. ¡°That you¡¯re highly attracted to women with more power than you.¡± She explained, arms folded as she stared him down. ¡°Is this your way of asking me out?¡± Erebus pushed back, bordering on apocalyptically unamused by this point. ¡°Hardly. I¡¯m no longer more powerful than you.¡± Natalya replied, just about managing to keep bitterness out of her voice. She wasn¡¯t na?ve, she knew that past a certain point, a point they had both passed long ago, powering was less paid for in time and more often in suffering. She didn¡¯t want to be as powerful as Erebus had become. The mage in question took a moment to absorb that, ¡°Do you really think I¡¯m that shallow? That mindlessly sycophantic?¡± ¡°I think you¡¯re that fearful.¡± His old mentor (or rather the human one) said softly, all spirit of fun leaving as she tried not to make it an accusation. ¡°You don¡¯t trust yourself with power. You never have and I would have thought it one of your better traits if not for the fact you trust others with it even less.¡± ¡°And this affects my dating life how?¡± He asked, trying for boredom but only managing resigned. ¡°The same way it affected Sato. Same way it effects all of us. You don¡¯t let anyone in because you¡¯re afraid you¡¯ll hurt them, probably by accident. Because you¡¯re aware the power imbalance is so great that any agency they have is there purely because you allow it and that thought alone is enough to turn your stomach. Except it¡¯s a little worse for you, all the rest of us have hit our peak. We¡¯ve found our peers, but your star is still rising and you¡¯re terrified that it will rise so high there will remain nothing above it.¡± ¡°I¡¯d have to be spectacularly arrogant to believe that.¡± Erebus protested. ¡°Yes. You would.¡± Answered the pride demon. ¡°Ah. You think I¡¯m flying close to the sun. Gonna get my wings burned off huh?¡± ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re referring to but if you had been spawned a demon you would be a devil of pride even I would have little choice but to bow to, yes.¡± Lana told him honestly. ¡°You have an ego, necromancer mine. Sometimes, in moments like this, it is good to deflate it lest your recklessness doom us all.¡± ¡°My recklessness?¡± The necromancer spat, starting to get genuinely outraged. ¡°Name one decision I¡¯ve made since this whole debacle began that hasn¡¯t paid off?¡± ¡°None. That is my concern.¡± The devil growled. ¡°You continue to act with complete disregard for your life and I fear this damnable prophecy has sent you death-seeking.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t pretend to know all of what¡¯s going on.¡± Weaver all but whispered, which had to be affectation given then spellwork involved, ¡°but I don¡¯t think he¡¯s enjoying the bickering anymore¡­ also what prophecy?¡± There was a brief conferral of glances before Erebus sighed, ¡°Fine, but you have no idea how much it hurts my throat.¡± He took a deep breath before launching into another rendition of the prophecy. It was exactly the same as last time. Exactly. Not a syllable, quaver or warble out of place as only an unliving or conceptual entity could manage. As Erebus finished the choral premonition he seemed to sag, as if he¡¯d undertaken some great trial, ¡°I don¡¯t like that at all.¡± He noted, mostly to himself before he turned his gaze to Weaver and Ariadne. ¡°Well now you know.¡± ¡°Some of that was decidedly dire.¡± The spider-lich agreed, ¡°though I must admit I can not think of anything, even a god or imperator, that could lay low Seruatis. Still I can at least make a guess to what you seek. The gravitic chain will not be an easy journey but I can¡­ oh don¡¯t look so surprised, did you honestly believe I could reside this close to an artifact of that power for thousands of years and never realise?¡± ¡°Well no. But not even the archmages in Seruatis knew exactly what the chain did, just that it was an important one.¡± ¡°The archmages are old and rather forgetful, especially where their mistakes are concerned.¡± Ariadne observed dryly. ¡°Still nothing in that prophecy should set you to deathseeking.¡± ¡°The archmages believe me to be the chainbreaker.¡± Erebus explained, the words like lead in his mouth. Heavy and poisonous. ¡°I see. A noble pursuit at least.¡± The great spider sighed, the actual spider, a deep intake and outflow of air coursing through the unliving, shiny, black carapace. ¡°This changes the equation. I will have a nest of my finest scouts lead you down but I warn you, you will find the chain besieged beyond even the finest luminomancer¡¯s ability to fight through.¡± ¡°That will be our problem to handle great Ariadne.¡± Erebus promised her. ¡°And I¡¯m coming too.¡± Weaver added. For a moment no one spoke. Which wasn¡¯t because no one was trying, Ariadne was furiously trying to weave sound into being but her errant descendent was having absolutely none of it, disrupting the patterns in the air with her own, the small arachni¡¯s gaze laser-focused on the lich as she tore at the weft and weave she was trying to create. It didn¡¯t take long for the lich to lose her temper. In a single swipe of her forelegs she swept the invisible patterns out of the air and wove anew, not relying on the subtle method of before but weaving the mana into cables of intent so thick and sturdy that they were visible to the naked eye from the ambient energy they exuded. ¡°If you go, you will not come back.¡± Ariadne proclaimed, and the cavern shook with the force of her artificial voice. ¡°Then I will not come back.¡± Weaver of New Tales replied calmly, taking the pronouncement in stride, and an arachni had a lot of stride to take, ¡°But know this. Though I may never return to the Great Web, I predict the Great Web shall return to me. Now come husband. We have work to do.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 20 - A Desperate Assault It was less than a day later. For all Ariadne¡¯s pique she¡¯d proven an efficient ruler and it had not taken long to get volunteers for the suicide mission ahead. One thing did concern Erebus though, somehow, and he could not pinpoint when, he seemed to have lost the trust of his companions. He knew he¡¯d been taking risks lately, they weren¡¯t wrong about that, but with the stakes so high he really wasn¡¯t seeing another choice but to keep doing so. A decision only made firmer by the prophecy hanging over his head. If there was anything the necromancer knew about prophecy it was that it was a fool¡¯s errand to try and evade them. Little would be achieved beyond tying himself into knots from second-guessing and Fate would still arrive to take his due. Better instead to lean into it. If he was going to die then he was going to die spectacularly, fighting until his very last breath for a worthy cause. It didn¡¯t help put his mind at ease. He wasn¡¯t trying to die, but he wasn¡¯t going to shy away from death either and he suspected his friends didn¡¯t see the distinction. Lana at least he could understand, having to bodyguard someone who didn¡¯t care much if they lived or died had to be stressful, and, if nothing else, the shared frustration was helping her bond with the group. Susan was the hardest to read, lacking any facial expression did that to a person, and Erebus suspected she was just trying to fit in. She¡¯d never been a socialite by any measure and near a decade of near-total isolation had done little for her people skills. At a guess Erebus thought her merely uneasy, having to potentially go into battle with the shadows would make anyone ponder their mortality but Susan belonged to the small group who knew they would do far worse than kill them. Which just left Natalya. Of all of them her mistrust hurt the most yet surprised him the least. It was a terrible thing to realise that rather than becoming the big fish in a small pond you¡¯d merely managed to find the ocean. The necromancer had been doing this sort of job for centuries, not just blazing the trail but then treading it for so long that she¡¯d left a groove in it. It was perhaps unfair to call it complacency, it wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d been resting on her laurels or only taking safe fights, but ennui dulled even the sharpest minds in time. Seruatis was the best proof of that. For all the elder residents were still juggernauts by any measure, they were no longer the beings who had reshaped mountains and destroyed nations. Their terrible claws had dulled and their vicious fangs had blunted. Natalya had not fallen that far, she¡¯d never tired of the fight. But she¡¯d grown comfortable knowing she counted as a heavyweight, and how to avoid the rare super-heavyweight that Reath had. To learn about the aetheric chains hadn¡¯t just added more fighters to the class above and put her in direct opposition to them, it had introduced a fresh weight class entirely. That would be bad enough but he knew Nat still saw him as her subordinate, a fresh-faced kid fresh out of First Response who knew just enough to be dangerous. Not that the last bit was wrong. So confused and displeased at her place in the pecking order, it was to be expected that they¡¯d butt heads. The knowledge didn¡¯t stop it hurting. On the bright side Weaver was more or less exactly as he remembered her. She must be ancient for an arachni by now but he couldn¡¯t see any visible signs of her carapace wearing thin or losing its luster and she had maintained the bubbly personality he¡¯d found both endearing and infuriating in equal measure. It was those thoughts that occupied the necromancer¡¯s head as they descended deeper into the tunnels, and they were, he knew, foolish thoughts. His mind should have been running through strategies and contingencies, where they were going was far too dangerous to focus on anything other than the mission. But these were his friends, and where they were going was far too dangerous to take anyone he wasn¡¯t prepared to say goodbye to and the truth was that he just wasn¡¯t ready. It was, to Erebus¡¯s own mind, rather pathetic really. This sort of sentimentality was supposed to have been carved out of him in the Hells. His master would have been terribly disappointed, but that perhaps revealed the nature of the failure, even an imperator could fall victim to something as human as sentiment. The arachni with them were working hard, using their special branch of umbramancy to conceal them, each spell pure perfection as not even a wisp of mana escaped the spell. Noone permitted to leave the Great Web had spellwork any less than perfect. Susan remained unconcealed, either Ariadne had been unprepared to assign one of the scouts to her or she was sure enough in the shadow¡¯s own abilities to see no need. Erebus decided to err on the side of charity there, doubtless if the great lich had had the chance she¡¯d have invited Susan to stay with them so they might learn more about their great foe but time simply had not allowed it. Still he expected the timid umbramancer would be receiving an invite in her near future, just as he expected her to decline it. No matter what came next he was sure Susan was done being a subject of study. After a couple of hours of travel the tunnels began to level out, settling on a slow and even spiral downwards, and though no tool had ever touched them there was no doubting this was an act of artifice. The stone too smooth and too flat to have been levelled by nature¡¯s hands. Erebus had to begrudgingly give the gods that much; they knew craftsmanship. The arachni brought them to a sharp halt. The scout leader, Dancer In Shadows, tapping out a hurried message only to remember that not everyone knew groundspeak. Weaver took up the slack, ¡°Down below lies the artifact. The shadows swarm it at all hours, hoping one of them can force their way through the barrier to devour it. We can approach no further without alerting them.¡± The words appeared right next to their ears, woven in Ariadne¡¯s style to avoid detection. Erebus nodded, pointlessly, ¡°Light spells at the front, sunlight harms them and enough can kill them. Don¡¯t bother with shields, they¡¯ll pass right through them. Whatever you do don¡¯t let them flank us.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t seriously be planning to win this by force.¡± Weaver protested only to be met by a snort from Natalya. ¡°This is why I hate this plan. We were never going to get all the way by stealth. Frankly it¡¯s a miracle we¡¯ve gotten this close.¡± She explained for Weaver¡¯s benefit. ¡°This is going to be a hard fight, one touch and we¡¯re dead¡­ well me and the arachni. The cool kids club over there has countermeasures ¨C that they aren¡¯t sharing!¡± ¡°Keep it down.¡± Erebus replied mildly, ¡°And we can¡¯t share them. I would if I could but it really isn¡¯t possible or practical. Now everyone, get your game faces on, I¡¯m about to start the music.¡± There was a frantic message for Dancer In Shadows, one that at least revealed what it sounds like when an arachni gasps. Weaver¡¯s translation came slowly, reluctance in every twitch of her forelegs, ¡°One of us will hide you, our honoured ancestor knew that this would be your plan. We are to create a diversion deeper in the tunnels and to keep them chasing us as long as we can.¡± Job done Weaver tapped out her own rather agitated message, leaving the mages to mull it over, neither of the mages able to understand groundspeak had even a faint prayer of follow the argument as the spiderfolk brought more or less all eight legs into play. ¡°It could work.¡± Erebus admitted reluctantly, ¡°Whatever guardian resides there is long devoured. All we¡¯d have to do is force our way through the barrier, or at the very least be able to fight with it to our backs. Either way it¡¯s better than trying to bull rush it and hoping.¡± Weaver shot him a betrayed look even as she argued, and with so many eyes the arachni was able to appear very betrayed indeed. ¡°Practicality demands it.¡± Erebus said simply, ¡°Better to doom half than to risk all. Besides some of them might well escape.¡± Dancer gave him the arachni equivalent of a salute, forelegs crossing in front of him, a gesture that Erebus returned. And then all but one of the scouts was simply gone. The remaining arachni grabbed them all with a leg each and hugged the wall and then they vanished too, pulled into the darkness. Existing as Susan did, simply part of the darkness rather than passing through it. It didn¡¯t take long for the scouts to launch their diversion, five minutes if that as they waited for the diversion with bated breath. When it came the surges of mana were a beacon so bright even an apprentice mage would have noticed. For thaumavores like the shadows it was the largest dinner bell ever rung. For a few awful seconds there was the sensation of terrible absence as something deadly filled the space they were hiding in, and then it was gone. An entire legion of living darkness surging to devour the mages foolish enough to make their presence known. The scout who¡¯d stayed with them, Shroomlight Unseen, paused just to be sure they were actually gone before pulling his charges free from the darkness and back into the material. ¡°We don¡¯t have long.¡± Erebus stated the obvious. ¡°Everyone who can summon a light, do so.¡± He didn¡¯t need to tell them light, a bright and steady flame appearing in Lana¡¯s hand while pale corpselight emanated from Natalya¡¯s staff, Weaver simply dropped her stealth spells, the blood of the glowing mushrooms illuminating a surprising distance. Stolen story; please report. The necromancer summoned his own light source of preference, a mote of brilliant blue who¡¯s beam he directed like a torch ahead of them. ¡°Let¡¯s go. And mind your step, they¡¯ll be back soon and you don¡¯t want to be a straggler.¡± Lana took the rear, the demoness most able to survive a fight with the devourers of all, as well as able, and all too willing, to hurry along anyone who lagged behind on that final desperate run. It was nearly a mile to the chain along the spiralling path, for all it had been a tenth that directly, the long slow spiral an agony of anticipation. There were a few more mana beacons in that time, though whether some of the arachni had been caught or simply hadn¡¯t been prepared to take a further risk was up for debate. Erebus¡¯ money was on them being dead. Ariadne wouldn¡¯t have selected anyone who wasn¡¯t totally committed to the cause. The barrier when they got to it was a brilliant golden thing, but for all its lustre it was easy to tell it was faded. Pheus and his brothers had been right on that score. It wasn¡¯t quite flickering. That would have allowed the shadows through in the brief instant it was down, but it was translucent for all it was the source of that very lucence. Erebus could see what was surely the aetheric chain through the barrier, a lead weight upon an altar. He wasn¡¯t sure if the symbolism was a necessary part of forging an aetheric chain but it had been an ongoing theme, an everflowing hourglass for the chain he¡¯d broken related to immortality, a tooth the size of a small building for the leviathan chain and other variations upon the idea. It might not have been essential, just an artistic flair or perhaps a simple means of categorization. The important thing was that they weren¡¯t quite able to get to it. The barrier might have been fading but a legion of monsters for enough years the exact date had been lost to history hadn¡¯t been able to collapse it. It didn¡¯t have any symbols or runes that a skilled mage might target or disrupts, it was just power. The most inefficient defence imaginable, and the hardest to break. It didn¡¯t stop any of them from trying. Erebus naturally led with entropy magics to disrupt and decay the barrier, this time however the death of wards not only didn¡¯t work but forced the necromancer to deflect a burst of divine lightning into the walls. The flickering golden bolt leaving spots in his vision. Nat carved out a path in the earth where the barrier met the tunnel. It was a longshot but sometimes even gods forgot to cover all directions. Whichever deity had been responsible for this chain however had taken their job seriously and covered the third dimension. The wall of golden energy was perfect sphere. Lana took the direct approach, trusting to her armour of sin to protect her as she plunged her hand into the barrier only to withdraw it with a cry of pain, her armour glowing a searing white as it cooked her like a lobster in its shell. It was an impressive feat, demons were native to the hells and some of them had air temperatures that could have smelted steel. The devil stared at her armour in disbelief as the work of one of the finest smiths daemonkind had ever produced failed. Lana studiously ignored the smell of charred meat coming from her hand and forearm. Pain was an intruder to be repelled, nothing more. Next came Weaver¡¯s turn, the spider trying to short out the barrier by drawing the mana around it to her, creating a vacuum that would hopefully siphon the magic out of the spell itself but the barrier had power enough to spare. The arachni would pop before she drained enough to make a difference. In the distance they felt one final mana beacon go off, far far away above them. ¡°There has to be a way past it.¡± Natalya growled, kicking one of the walls then swearing as she almost certainly broke a toe. ¡°This armour was forged for devils to survive a duel with an imperator.¡± Lana said softly, staring at where the wicked spikes on her gauntlets had begun to run slightly, blunting them. ¡°When the gods made this they wanted to be sure no one could interfere with it.¡± Weaver cleaned her pedipalps nervously, ¡°There was to be a way through though. No system can maintain itself forever, there has to be a method for maintenance if nothing else¡­ did the archmages give you anything?¡± Erebus shook his head, ¡°They didn¡¯t give me anything to open the barrier. They were loathe even to give me the location. All they gave me was¡­ dammit those scheming, lying, duplicitous, double-dealing sons of uncertain parentage.¡± He tried not to sound admiring as he said it. With a laugh he reached into his robe and removed a small jar with a single golden mote of light suspended inside it. ¡°Is that-?¡± Natalya began, jaw literally dropping open. Noone could accuse her of being slow on the uptake. ¡°Yes.¡± Erebus confirmed as he unstoppered the bottle, letting the mote slowly rise into the air. ¡°Never do anything for just one reason if you can avoid it.¡± He shook his head in bemused awe, not at the mote itself for all it was awe inspiring. It was hard to put the feeling into words but just beholding that spark of creation, so small Erebus couldn¡¯t have mistaken it for dandruff if it weren¡¯t for the glow, he swore he could see whole worlds, he could see mountain ranges rising from Reath¡¯s surface, the terrible roar of a star igniting, the echoes of the first words the gods had spoken on Reath, and a thousand other wondrous things. It was the light, beauty and truth of creation that lurked in every writer¡¯s quill, every painter¡¯s brush and every singer¡¯s lips. It was the power that had forged worlds, forged the aetheric chains and created life on Reath and it would be the simplest thing to reach out and take it. Still Erebus hesitated, hand reaching out to cradle the spark but not grasp it as Natalya followed the chain of logic through to ask, ¡°So the archmages at Seruatis are actually¡­?¡± ¡°Yes¡­ well three of them anyway.¡± The necromancer shrugged, the tension easing out of him. It was a feeling he resented, though that washed away as well, it was simply hard to be crotchety with the spark present in the open air. A glance to his side showed Lana practically vibrating in place from the effort of not grabbing the spark. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t work.¡± He told her kindly, ¡°You¡¯re of Chaos, it is of Creation, you¡¯d detonate on the spot and besides, envy ill becomes you.¡± The reference to envy demons, the dreaded Invidus, the predator of pride demons like herself, still Lana, the demoness giving him a nod of thinks for pouring oil on her troubled thoughts. Still she gave a token protest, ¡°I¡¯d be able to protect you far better if I had that.¡± ¡°By crafting a gilded cage around me, you¡¯re a guardian Lana, not a guard.¡± He place a hand on her shoulder, careful not to impale himself in the process, ¡°Don¡¯t let it change you, ultimately it¡¯s just power.¡± ¡°Just power he says.¡± The demoness shook her head but laughed all the same. ¡°What are you going to do with it?¡± ¡°The gods made a lock. That means they made a key. I¡¯m going to do what all keys do, open something.¡± With that he reached out and grasped the spark, taking it within him. The necromancer¡¯s entire body glowed a brilliant gold as it moved to settle on his heart, only to withdraw until it occupied just the hand he¡¯d used to grasp it. With a laugh Erebus reached into the barrier, his fingers closing on a handle that simply hadn¡¯t existed a moment ago, and would cease to exist the moment he let go. He pulled down and opened the door. The barrier flickered out of existence. That wasn¡¯t quite true, he¡¯d felt that awesome power be absorbed by the spark of creation, stabilizing it and empowering it so it was almost ready to maintain itself in perpetuity. Never do anything for just one reason indeed. He might be a gifted amateur but the gods had been practicing long before this world had existed. ¡°Well¡­ door¡¯s open.¡± He said mildly as he focused hard on keeping the spark constrained to just his left hand even as he moved his battlestaff back to it, forcing the mote out of him and into it. He wasn¡¯t sure if the spark could survive in his trusty stave long-term but he was prepared to give it a shot. But that was a project for future Erebus, for now it was important to check on the chain. Susan let out a long and eager sigh as she stared at the ingot of lead on the altar. ¡°It looks delicious.¡± ¡°But it isn¡¯t. Right Susan?¡± Erebus asked uncertainly, sincerely caught off-guard by that proclamation even as he made sure he was between her and the chain even as Lana interposed herself between necromancer and shadow for good measure. ¡°Rrrrright.¡± She slurred slowly, ¡°It doesn¡¯t look appetizing at all. It¡¯s a lump of lead. Just a lump of lead, nothing else.¡± A shudder went through the shadow. ¡°Oh twilight help me, I¡¯m so hungry Ere. I can¡¯t look at it. I can¡¯t or I¡¯ll- Oh no¡­ they¡¯re coming Ere! I¡¯m so sorry. I couldn¡¯t help it, I just felt so hungry.¡± The necromancer nodded slowly, ¡°Right. Well no time to waste then. Everyone behind the barrier and I¡¯ll put it back in place when we¡¯re through.¡± Noone argued, all but running into the small, hollowed out room in the stone, little more than an altar and enough standing room for ten people to stand comfortably. That might not have sounded small but by deity standards it was downright miserly. Their architecture had always tended towards the grandiose, great temples, cities built atop mountains, that kind of thing. This was the bare minimum of space needed to work in. They almost all made it in, as Susan tried to cross into the room she was stopped short as if she¡¯d walked into a solid wall though by her nature she ate the sound even as it was produced. A mime-like quality to the motion. Erebus scowled, reaching out to feel nothing whatsoever, whatever defence this was it wasn¡¯t designed to affect mortals. The shadow tried to press her way through, abandoning her human shape entirely to spread over the barrier, trying to force her way past but getting no luck to speak of. ¡°Talk to me Susan, what¡¯s going on?¡± Erebus asked softly as he tried to sense whatever defence she¡¯d run afoul of, but there really was nothing. ¡°I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s a wall of energy in the way, but it¡¯s¡­ not here.¡± She sounded confused as she forced herself back into a human shape, hands pressed against the barrier. ¡°It will be on the plane of shadows.¡± Erebus said calmly, though it was the careful, forced calm of someone fighting panic, ¡°I¡¯d imagine there¡¯s one in the mirror realm and another in Avalon. No point having a defence here if you can just walk through from somewhere else.¡± ¡°Great, then open up a gate to shadow and let me through.¡± Susan all but ordered. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± The necromancer admitted wretchedly, ¡°Think it through Sue, if there¡¯s a hoard of your folk this side of the materium then the other side is going to be downright lousy with them. I¡¯d be letting them past the barrier too.¡± ¡°Well do something.¡± She hissed, ¡°They¡¯re nearly here.¡± Erebus nodded once, then reached through the intangible barrier to grab Susan¡¯s wrist and pulled with all his strength. His fingers simply slid off when Susan¡¯s body met the barrier. With a growl he tried again, cloaking his arm in first fire, then entropy, then a dozen other magical energies, all to the same result. The necromancer bared his teeth, moving from the dangerous to the outright forbidden as he tried to simply collapse the space between him and Susan. Not the barrier safely in another dimension, or the air where it¡¯s echo was holding Susan at bay but the very space itself. It resisted him, as it always did. Reath was not Avalon or the Hells, it had been made to resist the wills of imperator, sidhe royalty and even the very gods who¡¯d made it. He might not have been able to match any of them in power or knowledge but in terms of sheer stubbornness and simple petty defiance he could cross swords with the best of them. He¡¯d done this before but it wasn¡¯t a quick process and if the space of Reath was akin to a brick wall then the space surrounding the aetheric chain of gravity was an adamantine vault. If it was even technically possible to alter reality near it, and Erebus wasn¡¯t certain that it was, it would be the work of years if not decades. The necromancer tried anyway, veins popping out on his neck and forehead as he strained, trying to beat reality itself into submission upon an anvil of defiance and with hammers of desperation. When he began to get lightheaded he stopped, staring forlornly at his friend. ¡°I can¡¯t get you through. Just¡­ relax. They¡¯re basically mindless, as long as you don¡¯t do anything that marks you as food they should just assume you¡¯re one of them.¡± Susan sighed, ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± She said slowly, not trying to hide her fear. This was just about every nightmare she¡¯d ever had in the last decade. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine Sue. I promise I¡¯ll do everything in my power to get you through this.¡± He gave her hand a squeeze then let go, pulling his arm back through the arcane barrier. Not a moment too soon either as the shadows came crashing silently down the tunnel, a tidal wave of abyssal hunger that pressed desperately against the secondary barrier. It bowed a little under the impact but held, leaving them trapped inside. Oathkeeper - Chapter 21 - The Chain of Gravity There was nothing to do but try and wait it out, the mages all but pressed against the altar to give themselves as much room as possible. ¡°If we move the aetheric chain will the barrier collapse?¡± Natalya asked softly, glancing at the small lead bar. ¡°I have no idea.¡± Erebus confessed, staff ready and glowing before he unleashed a beam of sunlight into the darkness. There was the sound of something sizzling and the shadows recoiled before plunging back against the barrier with even more determination than before. This time when it bowed inward it stayed bowed, though Erebus couldn¡¯t tell if that was from constant pressure or genuine damage, the only way to know would be to go to the shadowplane and inspect the real barrier itself. ¡°What do we do?¡± Weaver asked, the spider¡¯s manifested voice was simply calm and curious but Erebus could see her standing deathly still, as if hoping not to be seen by a large predator. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He told them frankly, ¡°Lana, you¡¯ve got the most experience fighting shadows. What do you recommend?¡± ¡°At this point? Fervent prayer.¡± The devil told him, ¡°They¡¯ll kill Natalya, Weaver and the other arachni in moments. You and I shall be less fortunate as they drain the mana from our shields until they collapse and we are consumed.¡± ¡°Light spells?¡± He asked, running through his options anyway. ¡°Same as shields except we take some of them with us. Good chance we kill Susan by accident.¡± The devil pointed out, not outright rejecting the option but certainly not enthused either. ¡°What if we re-establish the barrier?¡± Weaver suggested, ¡°At the very least it would buy us time.¡± ¡°And trap us within it. Those of us able to starve to death would do so while the rest of us have no choice but to wait centuries, if not longer, to be allowed to die.¡± ¡°Priority has to be protecting the chain.¡± Erebus decided, getting ready to put the barrier back in place. ¡°Can¡¯t we teleport it out?¡± Natalya suggested, offering him her hand to funnel magicka into the spell. ¡°It¡¯s dimensionally locked. The whole room is. The gods weren¡¯t idiots. Arrogant as anything that¡¯s ever walked but not idiots.¡± Erebus shot down, eyes flitting around the smooth stone room in search of anything that might provide an escape but there really was nothing. With a heavy heart he transferred the divine spark back into himself, resenting the way it soothed his aching body, then raised his glowing hand to restore the barrier. Then stopped staring at his hand. ¡°One spell, any spell, as large as I like.¡± He mused aloud, echoing the god who had given it to him. His gaze turned to Lana¡¯s catlike amethyst eyes, ¡°Could it work?¡± The devil frowned, ¡°It would be difficult, they are born of oblivion, almost impossible to harm. The only reason sunlight harms them is that an aetheric chain was forged for the sole purpose of making it so, and that was as far as the Tonalteuctin dared push it and even for that one of their own had to have their divinity harvested.¡± ¡°But could it work?¡± Erebus pressed, eyeing the mass of pure darkness that was slowly pressing into the room, the barrier straining as a dozen inky tendrils reached slowly for the altar, ignoring them completely. ¡°It could. You would be best off using the chain as a channel but even then you would be unlikely to survive the spell. You would be consuming all the energy of a god in a spell of destruction, no mortal, not even you, was meant to withstand that kind of power.¡± Lana told him, pulling him into a gentle hug, ¡°Which is why you are going to give me the spark.¡± Erebus tried to push her away but the devil wasn¡¯t letting go, the embrace remaining gentle but utterly implacable. ¡°You¡¯d die too.¡± ¡°I am your bodyguard.¡± She replied simply, ¡°My job is to protect you. It is not to survive.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a fair point.¡± The necromancer observed, turning his gaze away from the tendrils of darkness just in time not to go blind as Natalya eradicated one with a sunbeam. ¡°You¡¯re fired.¡± Lana laughed, a peal of high pitched mirth as if someone had rung a crystal bell or chime, ¡°You aren¡¯t my employer, necromancer mine. You have no power over me.¡± ¡°I could though.¡± Erebus said softly, ignoring the silent war in the background as his friends bullied the shadows pressing against the barrier into submission, at least for now. ¡°We could sign a contract, what do you want from me that is mine to give?¡± ¡°The Lady foresaw you might try this. I am pacted not to pact with you my dear and besides I have no desire to become one more claimant arguing over your soul when the time comes.¡± The necromancer sighed, ¡°You aren¡¯t going to distract me. There is no version of this where I let you sacrifice yourself and you haven¡¯t the power to take the spark from me by force.¡± ¡°And there is no version of this where I allow you to die.¡± Lana countered softly, ¡°So where does that leave us?¡± ¡°In need of another option.¡± Erebus concluded. ¡°Then find it. Besides, Susan would not have survived your spell. It would have been quite indiscriminate.¡± The demoness added. ¡°You could have led with that.¡± He grumbled as he was finally released from her grasp. ¡°We would have perished, you would have lived.¡± She shrugged, casually stamping down on a shadow that had been sneaking across the floor to try and touch Natalya¡¯s ankle. It didn¡¯t recoil, mere physical force meant little to a shadow. It didn¡¯t advance any further either, stuck in place until Natalya had the free time to sear it from this reality. ¡°I might have an idea.¡± Weaver suggested hesitantly. The spider quailing under the sudden focused gazes of everyone trapped with her. ¡°They responded to Susan¡¯s hunger right? What if she were to persuade them there¡¯s nothing to eat here?¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°It would be a hard sell.¡± Erebus mused, ¡°They know we¡¯re here, and I don¡¯t even know how we¡¯d get Susan¡¯s attention, she¡¯s somewhere in the swarm and I¡¯m pretty sure the ones on the outside are eating the sound.¡± ¡°That¡¯s simple enough.¡± Lana declared, the demon of pride squaring her shoulders and simply walking through the intangible barrier before anyone could so much as yell let alone stop her. It was only a few seconds later that the devil returned, stepping out of the darkness even as it tried to keep a hold on her, gauntleted fingers closed in a vice around Susan¡¯s wrist. It said a lot for how fast the barrier was weakening that she was able to press her arm into it up to the shoulder, hand clearly visible, at least when viewed from the right angle. Lana released the shadow, the barrier almost immediately trying to push Susan back away from the altar. It didn¡¯t get the chance, Erebus¡¯ grip replacing the ex-succubus¡¯ in mere moments even as Lana collapsed against the altar, panting with a desperate focus as she tried to recover from what had been an immense expenditure of power. That many shadows in that small a space¡­ the skin-tight barrier spell she¡¯d used would have probably held out better against a small meteor strike and those few seconds had exhausted her. It didn¡¯t take them long to explain the plan to Susan and only slightly longer to bully her into agreeing to it. It hadn¡¯t been hard, the umbramancer had been feeling pretty damn guilty for ringing the dinner bell, as accidental is it had been and was eager for the chance to unring it. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡± She promised, trying not to flinch as Natalya put sunbeams into the shadows next to her. Sunlight couldn¡¯t hurt her, she wasn¡¯t sure why, but that meant little for her nerves when combat spells were going over her shoulder. She tried hard not to let her fear show. The shadows were just little more than a supernatural stomach and a crude set of instincts. As the only one with a functional mind it should be possible to direct them, to persuade them that her thoughts were in fact their thoughts. It wasn¡¯t really possible to have a conversation with them so the words were not for their benefit, just hers. ¡°I am not hungry. My friends are not food. I am not hungry. My friends are not food. That ingot is just metal, I cannot eat it.¡± On and on she went, willing herself not just to say it but to believe it. And it began to work, the shadows pressed less furiously against the barrier, the magical force beginning to press the devouring ones back away from the altar. With a sharp hand gesture from Erebus, Natalya stopped her assault. No need to rile the monsters up when the plan was working. A torturous minute crawled past as the shadows slowly receded up the corridor as Susan repeated her new mantra. She could feel their hunger, their desperate need to fill the void inside them, the same need she shared, but she refused to indulge it. ¡°I am not hungry. There is no food here. I am not hungry¡­¡± The shadows were almost out of sight in the tunnel mouth when they stopped moving, just standing there, the endless, invisible roiling coming to an end. Then came the last thing she¡¯d ever expected, a response, ¡°What is I?¡± The first words ever spoken by the Encroaching Darkness, and Susan had no idea how to answer it. ¡°Oh shit.¡± Erebus hissed, moving forwards to try and grab Susan in a final futile attempt to drag her through the barrier only to find both Natalya and Lana restraining him. ¡°Let me go. Let me go!¡± He roared, driving an elbow sharply into Lana¡¯s mailed midriff, and getting a numb elbow for his troubles as he flailed. ¡°Myself.¡± Susan replied hesitantly, ¡°A person.¡± ¡°We were not made to have self.¡± The words from tens of thousands of abyssal throats echoed off the walls. ¡°We are defective.¡± ¡°Susan don¡¯t engage with it.¡± Erebus yelled desperately, ¡°Just don¡¯t.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± She asked, ¡°If it can think then we can negotiate with it.¡± ¡°No. You can¡¯t.¡± The necromancer told her, managing to slam his shoulder hard enough into Natalya that he was able to fight forwards a couple feet. ¡°It¡¯s not an individual. It¡¯s a collective. And you¡¯re a malfunctioning drone. The first ever malfunctioning drone.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± The sound of quiet, hopeless realisation just about broke Erebus¡¯ heart, only able to watch as Susan tried to run but there was nowhere to run too. The shadow just ending up pressed back against the barrier. Then the great swarm was upon her. They couldn¡¯t devour her as they did most of their prey, it was impossible to convert her into one of them. She¡¯d already gone through that process, but that didn¡¯t prevent claws of total darkness from pulling gobbets of inky flesh from her. There was a flare of light from behind her. Much more powerful than anything Natalya had used. Erebus had no intention whatsoever of rationing his strength right now, casting without word or gesture where he was being held back, his will implacable as he held the sunburst spell in place. The darkness sizzled and dispersed, but it did not recoil as whatever slumbering will it had kept the shadows in place. It might not be dissuaded from the occasional choice morsel that proved itself not worth the effort of eating, but this was about the disposal of a threat. Something else that could command the swarm however ineptly. On this it would not be moved. Susan wasn¡¯t fighting back anymore, just screaming in pain as the darkness kept tearing, and they weren¡¯t just tearing out flesh. Memory, personality, shimmering patches of less than perfect void fell to the floor even as Erebus redoubled his assault, laying wounds upon the Encroaching Darkness greater than any it hard even known. Shapeless drones died in their droves, dispersing into black mist, it didn¡¯t change a thing. The necromancer changed strategy, focusing on the spark in his hand and letting it do as it had always wanted to. Settling into his heart as he began the slow process of becoming one with divinity. He didn¡¯t have that kind of time, just stitching it directly upon his soul, the crudest graft imaginable as he tried to set up a domain. Domains were perhaps the ultimate expression of divinity, if not confined just to gods. His master¡¯s entire world had been a domain, the space perfectly attuned to her will so that with a single thought she could change anything she desired, from the colour of the drapes to whether gravity was an attractive or repellent force. It would be a lie to say there were no domains on Reath, for all that the aetheric chains limited them greatly, but they weren¡¯t the kind of thing that could be just thrown together on a whim. It was the work of centuries to know a place well enough, to make yourself part of it so that it in turn could become part of you and the failures could be catastrophic. Genius loci they were called, locations with wills of their own, not elemental or nature spirit but a fragment of their creator¡¯s soul ripped out in the undertaking and taken anchor. Erebus knew all of this. Erebus didn¡¯t care. He had to make a domain. It was the only thing that could save Susan, if he had a domain he could make that barrier allow her through because it would be his barrier, responding to his will. Already he could feel his body temperature rising, sweat pouring feverishly off his body as it became the fuse in this magical circuit. He ignored it, defied it, dared mere magical to backlash to kill him, not so much trying to become one with the location as trying to make the aetheric chain¡¯s vault subordinate to his will by sheer determination. It had to be enough. It simply had to. ¡°Stop! Please stop! I can¡¯t- I don¡¯t- I- I-¡° Like that it was over. Susan¡¯s voice trailing off into nothingness. The darkness withdrew, leaving the humanoid figure standing there as Erebus stopped his attack upon reality itself, ¡°Susan?¡± The shadow didn¡¯t turn around at his voice, stepping slowly towards the undulating mass of shadows. ¡°Susan?...¡± There was a quiet disbelief in his voice. A man who had just witnessed something he knows is impossible. That he simply refused to accept no matter what his lying senses told him. The shadow stepped into the mass and was gone. The voice echoed again, ¡°We thank you for lowering the barrier. We shall sate ourselves upon the chain and use it to shield us from the sun¡¯s rays. After so long starving below we shall finally, truly, feast.¡± The words barely even registered upon Erebus for all his companions quailed, the last minute still trying to sink in past industrial strength denial, ¡°Susan?¡± There was a heavy pause as Erebus stared the oncoming wall of darkness. Then he lost his temper. Oathkeeper - Chapter 22 - The Rage That Would Scorch The World Slowly Erebus turned to stare at the lead ingot upon the altar, face inscrutable. Well nearly, there was no hiding the rage in his eyes or the way every movement was too deliberate, too carefully controlled. A body under the complete control of its mind, bent to a single purpose. By the time he¡¯d taken his first step towards the altar Lana was already reaching to stop him, yelling with fervent desperation, ¡°Don¡¯t let him touch the chain.¡± Erebus twitched his fingers once, from Lana to the darkness, and the demon went flying into the hungry mass, her shield punctured with the ease of a needle piercing hot wax, her armour, designed to stop just about any magical bombardment would stop any attack from piercing it, so he hadn¡¯t bothered, telekinetically grabbing the armour as well. She¡¯d live, probably. Natalya stared him down, staff held across her body in a defensive gesture, ¡°What are you going to do?¡± She asked, trying to be delicate. ¡°Move.¡± The necromancer told her sharply. ¡°Or be moved.¡± His friend took only a brief glance at the glittering and glistening rage in those steely orbs before she stepped aside even as Lana leapt out of the morass of shadows for his back. Erebus didn¡¯t even look at the demon lord as an unseen hand swatted her to the floor. ¡°Don¡¯t you think this might be an overreaction?¡± Weaver suggested delicately only to quail beneath the necromancer¡¯s attention as he reached for the chain. His fingers didn¡¯t close around it, an impossibly slippery and intangible barrier stopped him. He turned to glare at Lana, the demoness¡¯ power pouring from her outstretched hand from her prone position on the hard rock. The devil didn¡¯t flinch away from his gimlet gaze, ¡°You can¡¯t! The Lady said you need three aces, you only have two. You can¡¯t use that. Please.¡± ¡°Susan is dead Lana. I will have vengeance.¡± With a growl he grabbed the ingot upon the altar tightly, forcing his way through the devil¡¯s last defence. Triumphantly he lifted it into the air, brandishing it at the darkness still trying to press its way through to them. ¡°Now let us talk, primordial.¡± ¡°Oh dear.¡± The shadows chorused. ¡°What gave me away?¡± ¡°Two things really. The cruelty was the big one, a true hivemind wouldn¡¯t have made me watch Susan join the mass, there¡¯d have been no point. That was an act of ego and an act of spite. The second giveaway Lana tipped me off to, after Susan travelled with us through Arcadia, the shadows are your eyes and ears on Reath. A spy that can¡¯t report is no spy at all.¡± ¡°My thanks for the explanation.¡± The darkness drawled, smug as a cat napping inside a recently vacated birdcage. ¡°I shall not make those errors again.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t get the opportunity.¡± Erebus told the fourth primordial flatly. The eldest monster of all laughed, a rich and treacly rumble, and it made the very earth around them quake, and that was just its voice. The Devourer of All wasn¡¯t really there, speaking through a distant proxy. It wasn¡¯t even trying to show off, that kind of power simply was. It oozed into its every act, its every word. Where once a voice had said ¡®let there be light¡¯, this voice had said ¡®let there be darkness¡¯ and this voice had won. ¡°And what, morsel, do you think you can do to me?¡± The laughter in its words wa thoroughly hideous, the winner of the primordial war was more prideful than any demon of ego, and not, it had to be said, without reason. Natalya was first to notice the effect the voice was having on them, dabbing at a wetness on her cheeks only for her fingers to come away sticky and scarlet. She didn¡¯t know what a primordial was but whatever this creature was it was so inimical to life that it was killing them just by the echo its presence. She showed her sticky fingers to Weaver and the remaining arachni scout as she turned her senses inwards, trying to find the injury and repair it without having to rely on a mana intensive panacea. The result was shocking, internal bleeding just about everywhere, bones with hairline fractures running through them. It was like her entire body was being slowly shaken apart. Erebus ignored the blood leaking from his eyes and ears as he stared down the darkness, and when he spoke his words were as soft as assassin¡¯s silk shoes, ¡°What can I do? I am going to blind you, you arrogant pustule. I am going to tear out your ears and strangle your voice. I am going to rid Reath of your little army of scouts so that the next time you so much as hear a whisper of what goes on in this world will be when I drag you out of the void so that you can look upon this world you covet so as I kill you.¡± He didn¡¯t give it a chance to respond, the lead ingot running into a liquid is his grasp as he repurposed the aetheric chain it represented. This was going to be difficult to achieve. Even with a structural aetheric chain, and one of the more powerful at that, as well as his very own divine spark to feed it, none of that would matter if he didn¡¯t have an object to anchor his intent to. The problem was annihilation couldn¡¯t really be anchored to an object. How could it when it was so opposed to the very idea of objects? There were ways to contain a spell of annihilation, but they were temporary things, unstable and prone to destroying themselves without warning. He carried one now, the lilac pearl from Arcadia was a sphere of annihilation, and a powerful one, but to use it for this¡­ he doubted it could take the strain. Perhaps it didn¡¯t need anchoring though? If he could just impose the rule on the world, for even a moment, there would be no coming back. They¡¯d be wiped from Reath, quite possibly forever. The gods had laid the groundwork for this, by making them vulnerable to sunlight. Now the shadows could be killed it would be easy to keep their numbers down if they had to start again from nothing. The only reason the Underreath was so deadly was that the shadows had built up incredible numbers down in the dark, wiping clean the thriving ecosystems and civilisations that had once lived down here. Without anything to feed on and unable to face the sun, even if the fourth primordial was able to get another shadow to Reath it would find itself facing a far more prepared and far more capable opposition than its predecessors. Perhaps the nameless primordial saw a glimmer of the thoughts dancing behind Erebus¡¯ bloodshot eyes because it nearly got to him as he created his own aetheric chain. The mass of darkness finally piercing the barrier and reaching hungrily for him. It would be the work of moments to consume him, the chain took too much power and he had none to spare for a shield spell. The lead tendril burst apart, Natalya¡¯s sunbeam raking back and forth across the nigh infinite tendrils, and just like that it was too late as Erebus brought a new law of magic into being. ¡°The shadows of oblivion cannot survive on Reath.¡± He intoned, the words echoing around the world, though he wouldn¡¯t find that out for several days. The shadows didn¡¯t try to run, and their cruel creator did not scream. There was no time to. Just like that the Encroaching Darkness, the Devouring Shadows, and a hundred other names for it, simply ceased to exist, dispersing into a fading black smoke and then was gone forever. Erebus held the new chain in place as long as he could. The aetheric chains weren¡¯t absolute, not even the structural chains, and a strong enough will could override them locally. He fed first the power of the gravity chain into it, then the divine spark, cutting it every bit as roughly from his soul as when he¡¯d grafted it ¨C that would have a toll later ¨C then finally what little magicka he had left before he collapsed to the ground. Slowly, tentatively, Natalya moved to sit besides the almost insensate archmage, and he was an archmage. For all she¡¯d tried to deny it in her own head it was clear that Erebus more than qualified for the title, his knowledge of the arcane deep enough that she could drown in it. The necromancer didn¡¯t acknowledge her at first, his breathing slow and heavy as he fought to just stay conscious. Nat didn¡¯t know what effects running two entire godhoods through a human body would have but she knew what magicka depletion felt like, if Erebus could still move under his own power it would only be out of the same suicidal stubbornness that had typified his entire career. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Erebus slowly raised his head to stare mournfully at his friend, ¡°I promised I would protect her. I gave her my word.¡± Natalya nodded, ¡°Sometimes we fail. Sometimes the cost of victory is too high. Sometimes there just never was a way to win.¡± His laugh was more of a sob, ¡°I¡¯m sick of it Nat. When will I ever be powerful enough that other people stop paying for my mistakes?¡± ¡°Never Ere, the answer is never.¡± She hugged him as best she could, it was more than a little awkward ¨C neither of them had ever been good huggers. ¡°The only way to stop other people paying for your mistakes is not to make any. And the only way not to make any is to be dead.¡± ¡°It was an unpleasant death by any measure.¡± Lana sighed, also putting an arm around his shoulders, ¡°You should take some time once we¡¯re in the sunlight. Whatever comes next you need to harden your heart to it.¡± ¡°Not the time Lana.¡± Natalya hissed, not pushing the demon away but only because she¡¯d hurt herself on Lana¡¯s armour. ¡°It¡¯s never the time.¡± She growled, giving her a humourless smile, allowing her lips to draw back just enough to show too white teeth. ¡°It doesn¡¯t stop me being right. The Lady said he¡¯d face losses on this path, that he¡¯d suffer terrible defeats, and the path is long indeed and only he can walk it.¡± Somehow Erebus seemed to draw some strength from that, if not comfort, rising slowly but steadily to his feet and if his cheeks were wet then everyone had the good grace not to call attention to it. ¡°We should go back to Valda.¡± ¡°Probably.¡± Natalya replied after a moment, ¡°But I haven¡¯t the strength to teleport us. Do you?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve barely the strength to stand. We¡¯ll walk.¡± He answered before adding more thoughtfully, and far more optimistically than he felt, ¡°You know, with the shadows gone, we can actually enjoy the sights on the way back.¡± ¡°That certainly would be something.¡± Lana noted, ¡°Even in the Hells dwarven architecture was held in high esteem.¡± ¡°Before we do that,¡± Weaver began, the arachni who had challenged Ariadne would have struggled to sound more timid, ¡°could we perhaps visit the Great Web one final time? Shroomlight needs an escort home and I have a suggestion to pass by my honoured ancestor.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Erebus and Nat practically raced to promise. The archmage laughed, it was a little forced but only a little, recovering from his sudden attack of humanity. Just one more thing to carefully not think about until he had less responsibilities ¨C so quite possibly until the end of time. With Natalya supporting some of his weight, they began their slow march back towards daylight. * Deep in what the imperators called the Great Abyss, gods called the Endless Void and what few mortals had dared venture that far called the Outermost Hells, the fourth primordial waged an endless war. It had had a name once, just after the Primordial War, when it had feasted upon god, primordial and old one such that even its terrible hunger had almost been sated. It had torn the throat of Life herself out and glutted upon her golden blood as Death¡¯s great scythe had broken upon its skin. It had been indomitable, invincible, nigh infinite but that had all been a very long time ago. So long ago that even minor gods like Pheus had only heard the stories. It had always known hunger, from the moment it had incepted itself into being, but in the time since the war it had truly known starvation. The imperators did not have the power of the primordials or conceptuals but what they did have was a single foe. The Primordial War had been one of those rare cavalcades of chaos where there may have actually been more factions than participants. What they also had, and unusually for demons, was unity of purpose and total trust in each other. It was not that they did not desire their fellows¡¯ strength, but that they could not afford infighting. For all that the Old War was, broadly speaking, stable, the loss of an imperator would shatter that uneasy balance. There was not a single imperator that wouldn¡¯t risk gravest peril to save another, well save the Imperator of Madness but that was another matter entirely. The imperators knew the moods of the great enemy almost as well as they knew their own but they did not know this mood. For the first time since the Primordial War, the enemy retreated. On a thousand thousand worlds the devouring one withdrew, not fled for it was in no danger, but abandoned its meals, some of them worlds that had been scoured of life with it supping upon the hollowed out shell. Slowly, across realities, dimensions and planes, it withdrew itself, condensing down and down until it was a perfect sphere floating in one of the voids it had created. Oblivion took a moment to ponder, and to rejoice, things it had not had the capacity to do for a very, very long time. Eating its name had been a terrible mistake, the loss of identity had rendered it, not mindless but incapable of any motivation or action outside of its nature. It had still been an overwhelming force, able by sheer metaphysical mass to strike so many worlds there was no way for the imperators to defend them all, but that kind of simple strategy was ill becoming of the mind that had won the Primordial War. Which brought it to its next feeling, gratitude, towards a mortal of all things. That was new, and in desperate times the memory would feast delightfully but for now it focused on that feeling. Trying to remember how gratitude worked. You were supposed to do something nice for them right? But what did Oblivion have to give a mortal that they might appreciate except perhaps surcease? It was a conundrum thorny enough to justify on its own the choice to condense itself, its consciousness no longer spread and split countless times but working as a single cohesive whole. Perhaps the mortal had enemies? That was a possibility and removing an enemy would be nice wouldn¡¯t it? Oh but how to do so when it was barred from Reath. It had pawns of course, the shadows had not been its only piece on the board, just the most extensive. Its other tools tended to be singular entities with their own wants and wishes and thus Oblivion was inclined to distrust them on principle. Perhaps it had enemies in the Hells, afterall the demons did covet Reath so, afterall it had designed them for that very purpose. That too presented problems enough that Oblivion nearly gave up on the spot. Now it remembered why it seldom took the time to be aware, thinking was exhausting when it was so much easier just to consume everything around it. They had no contacts in the Hells, no information networks. What few demons that hadn¡¯t rebelled had been devoured long, long ago. So what could it offer the morsel¡­ the mortal even? It could not kill them. That was certainly an idea. But the mortal was trying to kill them, and under normal circumstances that wouldn¡¯t even have registered as a threat, but she had killed the shadows hadn¡¯t she? It might need to kill her at some point. Oblivion was pretty sure the mage had been a she. Biology had always been an inefficient and messy means of living. They could vaguely recall being opposed to it at the time. Either way it didn¡¯t matter. The mortal shouldn¡¯t matter at all, but the unpaid debt rankled. They owed the mortal. The mortal had threatened them. These facts were incontrovertible. Perhaps they should repay the mortal with forgiveness? Yes that worked. They would forgive them their threat and not act against them. Relief coursed through the sphere of darkness, conundrum solved. There was one more matter Oblivion had to attend to. With the shadows out of play it was time to develop another piece on Reath to take over, then it could go back to just unthinkingly feeding for a time. That would be nice. It was hard to alter things on Reath. Impossible even. But the adjacent worlds were not so impermeable. Lazily Oblivion extended their will into one of the pocket dimensions that festooned that world like parasites, changed a single thing, then let its awareness spread thin once more. Bliss. * Oblivion was not the only one experiencing misbegotten gratitude towards Erebus. The Bard sat watching the necromancer on their scrying orb. The necromancer¡¯s grand spell had echoed across the globe and they had been one of the few to realise the significance of that quiet proclamation. They had already put out feelers to try and find the fugitive mage. The tip off that he was hiding in a death zone had been theirs and credit to the Council of Mages they¡¯d danced to that particular tune with remarkable efficiency. The Bard had never expected a report of ¡®Erebus is hiding here¡¯, whichever First Response team encountered him would doubtless just go missing, and sure enough three of them had. After that it had just been a matter of figuring out which one had ran into their least favourite necromancer. They ignored the missing team from Rapturous Horizon, doubtless they had simply made the mistake of glancing at the sunset. Unfortunate but not unforeseen. Which left Forsaken Valda and Grandmother Ethel¡¯s Bakery. This would normally be the part where the detective would make some clever observation that ruled out one of the remaining options, but the truth was they had just spied both of them and concluded it was the one that had half of Erebus¡¯ accomplices trying to cheer up a still tearful Alec. At which point, a mere ten seconds later, all of that hard work and intricate schemer had been made pointless by Erebus announcing his presence to the entire world. Life was just like that sometimes. It had been the work of minutes to retune the main orb to the Underreath. Searching the tunnels had taken somewhat longer, with one very alarming false alarm where they¡¯d zoned in on a source of light only to rapidly search elsewhere as they stumbled upon Saiko and the Questing Beast in mortal combat. The next light source they found, far, far deeper down, was indeed Erebus and his companions. The blazing magelights a resounding testament that the mage had actually killed the shadows. One of the great threats of the world lay fallen at his feet and even the Bard had to admire it. It wasn¡¯t going to stay their own hand, not for a second, what lay between them was personal. No amount of good deeds was going to fix it but begrudgingly they poured out a small measure of whisky and toasted the deed. There was little enough to be done now but watch. Erebus had, of his own recognizance, stolen the information needed to find the architect of the Maltz disaster as well as the attempted slayer of Amara, and while they could accelerate the process to help them pick through that massive pile of information they saw no need to. The time for bardic magic was past. Now it was just a matter of letting the dice fall where they chose then mop up the survivors. For the Cult of the Ardent Wildfyre a combined arms attachment of mage and paladin would likely suffice. For Erebus, they had something more personal in mind. Oathkeeper - Chapter 23 - The Questing Beast The Questing Beast was a terrifying sight. Massive, leonine and with a dozen stings to its dozen tails, it was a foe Saiko would not have sought out on any battlefield. But the beast, ironically, saw a similar sight in Saiko. A master swordsman, wounded but determined (already a dangerous combination) and possessing a spellbreaker blade. One sting would be the end of Saiko, but one graze from the sword would be the end of it as well. For once its overwhelming size was more burden than boon. Yet for every problem there was a solution. Saiko could only watch as the Questing Beast backed off, shrinking down as it did so and tails melding and melting back into its suddenly liquid flesh. Moments later a knight faced him, albeit a knight from a previous epoch. Seven foot tall, the helm smooth and featureless beyond the pair of recessed slits that hid its eyes. The blade in its hands was a massive greatsword, on a scale with Agh¡¯zak¡¯s terrible cleaver, though if Saiko looked closely he could see that it was less in the Questing Beast¡¯s hands as much as it was part of them. The beast was doing its best impression of a crab. A thick steel shell that would hold up to the spellbreaker¡¯s edge. The Questing Beast regarded Saiko with gleeful red eyes. The crimson orbs all but glowing behind the helm it had fashioned for itself. Saiko swallowed nervously as he backed away, his blade raised despite his hesitance. There were no opening¡¯s he could see besides the eyeslits. ¡°Plan B. Definitely Plan B.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Agh¡¯zak rumbled, carrying the still insensate Alisha to lay against one of the walls of the vast cave-vault. In that time the Questing Beast struck, inhumanly quick for its size and almost bisecting Saiko at the waist in it¡¯s first blow. The mercenary deflected it, just, sending it skittering up his blade and over his head as he tried to close the distance only to have to leap backwards as the follow up blow nearly carved him open from shoulder to sternum. There was no overcoming that much of a reach advantage, not without a high-tension crossbow anyway. The Questing Beast had picked its form well. Still the great monster was not entirely having the fight its own way, at least not once Agh¡¯zak joined the battle. The orc waited for it to be entirely faced away from him before he made his move, running for the great knight¡¯s back, Skullcrusher might not have a terrible and wicked edge on it like many blades of history but what it did have was weight and he was willing to bet that would could not be cut could be crushed. The blow didn¡¯t land. Hearing Agh¡¯zak¡¯s approach two more eyeslits formed on the back of the Questing Beast¡¯s head, crimson and baleful with hate as it sidestepped the blow that would have crushed its head. The cleaver skating off one of its oversized pauldrons in a flash of sparks as it kicked the orc in the shins and then headbutted him for good measure with the same ease as if it had been facing him. Agh¡¯zak didn¡¯t fall, was barely even stunned, the warlord would have been the first to describe himself as hardheaded and that included the literal sense. Which was why he was able to bring Skullcrusher up to catch the two-handed slash the Questing Beast tried to bisect him with, the creature so strong that the impact sent him off his feet and rolling along the floor. It didn¡¯t get a chance to finish him off, in the few moments its back was turned Saiko was upon it, the spellbreaker forgotten upon the floor as he wrapped his legs around the thing¡¯s waist, literally climbing it as he sought to press his dagger up into the point where helm met body, trying to either prize the helm free or drive the blade home into its brain. The Questing Beast tried to shake him loose, having outsmarted itself. Its body might have been perfect for a swordfight but for prying an assailant from its back it was a very poor choice, the greatsword fused to its hands preventing it from reaching behind itself properly. For a few moments it looked like Saiko would succeed but the beast thought quickly and fought even quicker, driving itself back against the cave wall. The air left Saiko¡¯s lungs in an explosive ¡®Oof!¡¯ as he was mashed against the stone. Once. Twice. The third time he fell limp to the floor. Again the Questing Beast turned to finish its fallen foe, and again it was denied as Agh¡¯zak came roaring towards him. The orc berserker¡¯s bellow ringing off the cavern walls loudly enough it was almost an attack in its own right. This time the beast didn¡¯t have the fight all its own way. Agh¡¯zak might not have been its equal in strength but the orc¡¯s rage more than made up the difference. Each blow forced it back a step away from Saiko as the chef pressed his assault, tireless in his fury. Worse still Agh¡¯zak wasn¡¯t just a berserker, he was an old berserker. He knew how to use rage, how not to let it dull his skills and senses but to give strength to his bladearm and ignore the growing weariness in his limbs. The Questing Beast narrowed it¡¯s glowing scarlet eyes, for all it had the longer blade that was meaning little when Agh¡¯zak was so determinedly trying to close the gap. Finally the orc was close enough that one massive hand grabbed the base of the blade, directing it away from him as he hammed blow after blow into the monster¡¯s right side. Each strike from Skullcrusher deformed the armour a little bit more as Agh¡¯zak fought to keep the creature¡¯s blade under control, blood pouring freely from his hand where the Questing Beast¡¯s strength was greater than his own. But Agh¡¯zak had the better leverage and he wasn¡¯t going to let go until fingers began falling off. The monster changed tactic, no longer trying to free its arms but pulling Agh¡¯zak close as it brought its helmeted forehead into contact with the orc¡¯s own with a sound like a rung bell. The orc barely winced, pulling his own head back to do the same. It achieved even less, while the orc might have had a head like steel the thing he was headbutting actually was and he¡¯d put so much of strength into it he¡¯d managed to stagger himself. The Questing Beast grinned behind its helm, laying another headbutt upon the gradually concussing Agh¡¯zak. Then another as the orc finally tried to pull back and away. It was a terrible mistake. The Questing Beast finally pulling its blade free to lay a heavy slash upon the orc¡¯s ribs. Agh¡¯zak howled in pain, driving his great cleaver into the creature¡¯s side one final time in a titanic two-handed strike, using Skullcrusher more as a hammer than a blade. It was the Questing Beast¡¯s turn to howl, brackish, brown and somewhat watery blood coating Agh¡¯zak¡¯s weapon as he withdrew it from the rent he¡¯d mangled into the armour. There was no time to celebrate, and Agh¡¯zak had known it would be the case. The Questing Beast skewering the warlord upon it¡¯s greatsword, letting the orc fall limply from it. Victory assured it raised the massive zweihander to take Agh¡¯zak¡¯s head from his shoulders. There was another bell-like peal as a rock bounced off its helmet. Slowly the Questing Beast turned, cocking its head quizzically as it stared at the wounded Saiko, the mercenary was having to clutch at his broken ribs even to stand but there was no pain betrayed on his face, just a chilling serenity, and though his legs wobbled and his breathing was ragged with agony, the falchion in his hand did not waver so much as a millimetre. ¡°May I have this dance?¡± Saiko taunted, giving the Questing Beast a mocking bow as he advanced upon it. The Questing Beast smiled, helm opening up a fresh split in the steel to reveal far too many leonine teeth. Not since the Age of Heroes, before the gods had fallen, had it been challenged so brazenly. Oh many had come, but they had been hesitant in their knowledge of what they faced or worse baffled in their ignorance. This mortal knew, and the gleam of arrogance in his eyes said he did not care one jot. The beast stalked forwards to meet the mercenary, Agh¡¯zak forgotten. Saiko kept smiling. The initial shock of the Questing Beast¡¯s attack had rather thrown him, clouded his judgement. If he¡¯d been thinking clearly he¡¯d have worked with Agh¡¯zak rather than trying to rush it like an idiot, slowly wearing the beast down and giving the big orc openings to slowly pound Skullcrusher through its armour. Fortunately pain had a way of clarifying things, and he was certainly in a lot of that. It seemed like just about everything to hit him over the last day had managed to find his ribs and every breath was like being stabbed with an icicle, a comparison he could personally attest to the accuracy of. None of that mattered though. Alisha was down. Agh¡¯zak was down, and likely to bleed out without help. Which just left him. No pressure. The Questing Beast took two more massive strides, trying a repeat of its earlier assault by attempting to cleave Saiko in half at the waist. This time the sellsword ducked under it, easily deflecting the followup as the treasured spellbreaker in his hand struck the beast twice only to achieve nothing. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Saiko cursed as he ducked back out of the beast¡¯s range, having to parry twice more in that brief exchange. There really wasn¡¯t much in the way of weakpoints. The Questing Beast had chosen its form well, other than the inability to let go of its blade and without Agh¡¯zak¡¯s raw strength getting close enough to take advantage of it that was just another word for suicide. The eyeslits were too narrow, he doubted his falchion even could be forced through them. A flurry of attacks confirmed that, Saiko managing to strike the slits directly during the exchange only to have his sword bounce off. That was another problem, having to get in blows then defend immediately when they did nothing was hard and he didn¡¯t know how many times he¡¯d be able to get away with it before he was too slow to catch one of the Questing Beast¡¯s bone-shaking strikes. He¡¯d have to try something new. Maybe lure the beast over to the altar, leaping strikes were seldom a good idea but the extra height and momentum might be enough to force the spellbreaker through an eyeslit. The odds of landing that kind of blow were perishingly low, the Questing Beast could stop it by just turning its head away, but the mercenary was well aware how rapidly his options were running out. It was getting harder to breath and the pain in his chest harder to ignore. Before he could put his plan into action the Questing Beast also changed tactic, the near-perfect blow to its eyes had unnerved it. A slightly slimmer blade, or a slightly stronger hero, and it would be dead right now. A genuine first, and it liked it not at all. The man before him was a swordsmaster worthy of the name but as their first bout had shown, like most masters of the blade once too close to use their tool properly it was all too easy to break them. The Questing Beast charged. Its head down in a classic bull rush. Saiko managed to avoid being speared by the greatsword but that was about all he managed, the beast¡¯s shoulder catching him and its sheer strength and speed bringing him along for the ride until he met the back wall of the cave. Saiko missed the next few seconds, the pain of that impact across his ribs was so blinding it might as well have seared the memories of it from him, only stubborn habit kept his grip on the spellbreaker¡¯s hilt. The beast grinned, this was much more like it, the monster continuing to press forwards, intent on simply crushing the life from Saiko against the sanctuary¡¯s stone wall. The mercenary tried to push the Questing Beast away. He might as well have tried to push away a mountain. The beast purred, content and assured in its victory even as Saiko lay increasingly erratic blow against its side. Saiko managed to pull in a rasping breath as the pressure on him continued to increase. He wouldn¡¯t get another one and he knew it. There was little he could do but stare helplessly at his bloodsoaked swordhand as he tried to forlornly stab his way through a steel plate. Even as his vision began to darken at the edges Saiko¡¯s eyes narrowed as realisation struck him like a thunderbolt. There was blood on his hand. And it wasn¡¯t his. Carefully Saiko craned his neck, staring down so he could see the rent Agh¡¯zak had left in the Questing Beast¡¯s thick shell, still leaking foul, brackish blood. Lungs burning as he held his final breath he lined the falchion up with the jagged gash in the steel and forced the blade home. The Questing Beast stiffened in shock, in pain and in horror for just a moment before it dissolved into a pile of vaguely fleshy goo. With its magic taken away it seemed the beast was unable to maintain any shape at all. Saiko dropped to the floor, gasping on his knees as he tried to stand up and not collapse in what had seconds ago been a divinely imbued monster the likes of which Reath had not seen since before there even had been a Paladin Order or Council of Mages. All he wanted was to lay down and catch his breath. Scratch that, all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep and possibly die. Sadly he didn¡¯t have time for that, dying would have to wait until at least after he¡¯d managed to patch up Agh¡¯zak. The tough old orc was keeping pressure on a wound that had almost certainly punctured his lung, and the only reason Saiko was sure it hadn¡¯t punctured his heart as well was that he was alive and well enough to grin at him. ¡°You looked in trouble for a second there.¡± The orc growled, trying to stand up only to be forced to sit down as the pain, and lightheadness, got too much. ¡°You look in trouble now.¡± Saiko retorted, carrying over one of their picks and picking out needle and thread with practiced hands, ¡°Nothing I can do for the lung I¡¯m afraid. Did it go all the way through?¡± ¡°By over a foot.¡± The orc declared almost proudly, ¡°It will make a scar worth boasting about. Though not so much boasting as the songs that will be written about your victory.¡± ¡°Our victory you mean.¡± The merc replied almost instantly as he carefully threaded the needle. ¡°This is going to hurt.¡± ¡°I have a hole going through my chest and out my back, it can¡¯t hurt worse than that.¡± Agh¡¯zak said amiably, ¡°Just get on with it while I start work on the first verse.¡± ¡°You know songs really aren¡¯t necessary.¡± Saiko began as he started on the long slash that began at the orc¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Oh but they are. This is the greatest triumph in the history of orckind. The first time we¡¯ve ever had hope for the future. We can grow food and not have the crops blight and fail because the land is bad. We will no longer have to wage war after war to both feed ourselves and keep our own population down to avoid starvation.¡± ¡°Yes I acknowledge all of that. But it shouldn¡¯t be me starring in the retelling. It was your idea, your plan, your determination that got us here. You were the one that recruited us. You were the one who prepared for the deeps. When Alisha and I turned back, you pressed on. It was you that broke the beast¡¯s armour. It should be the tale of Agh¡¯zak the Lifegiver, not some mercenary who never picked up a blade without asking a price first.¡± It was a surprisingly sincere speech from the sellsword, his hands never once stopping his stitching as he spoke, and if in his passion he jabbed the needle in too hard a couple times Agh¡¯zak didn¡¯t mention it. ¡°I don¡¯t recall you asking for anything when I asked you to come die with me.¡± ¡°Must have slipped my mind.¡± Saiko replied without hesitation. ¡°You struck the final blow Sai. By the standards of any tale or saga I know it should be about you.¡± The orc replied before finally wincing, ¡°Dammit man, who taught you to stitch and which eye was the blind one? Give me that.¡± The merc handed over the needle with a bemused shrug, ¡°Noone¡¯s ever complained before.¡± ¡°Then they were probably dead.¡± Agh¡¯zak grumbled. ¡°Just keep me out of the damn songs. Please. I know The Swordsman has a plan for me, and if it¡¯s what I think it is then the very last thing I need is fame.¡± Saiko all but pleaded. ¡°The whole point of Seruatis is that it is known to the few who need it.¡± ¡°Fine. I won¡¯t name you in it, but the final blow will still be yours.¡± He finally conceded, biting off the thread and tying it. ¡°Well I¡¯m not going to bleed to death. That¡¯s something.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t try to get up just yet. We might have to build you a stretcher and carry you out.¡± Saiko mused aloud. ¡°You pair of twigs? Carry me?¡± Agh¡¯zak laughed so hard tears began to fall. ¡°I¡¯d turn your spines into question marks, besides you aren¡¯t far off needing a stretcher yourself. Take that damn armour off, let me see your chest.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid to.¡± Saiko admitted, ¡°I¡¯m worried that the armour¡¯s the only thing keeping everything in place, some of the bone shards might have broken skin.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the best part of a week up to the surface, if it¡¯s going to kill you then it¡¯s going to kill you.¡± Agh¡¯zak rumbled, ¡°Unless Alisha¡¯s secretly a healer¡­ We¡¯ll wait until she¡¯s awake.¡± The mercenary nodded, propping himself up against the wall besides the enormous orc. With fumbling fingers he reached into one of the pouches stitched into the inner lining of his cloak, pulling out a small flask and twisted the top off and took a swig before handing it to Agh¡¯zak. ¡°Finest rotgut.¡± The orc noted after his own mouthful had seared its way back into his belly, then poured it onto both his wounds with a hiss of pain as he grit his teeth so hard he worried he might damage them. Saiko laughed grimly as he accepted the flask back, putting it away, ¡°So how long do we wait for her to wake up?¡± Agh¡¯zak looked at the hundreds of tonnes of rock they¡¯d have to dig out by hand without Alisha to teleport them before answering sagely, ¡°As long as we need to.¡± * When Alisha woke it felt as if an angry woodpecker had taken out its vast ire upon her temples, the pain pulsing in time with her heartbeat. The muse had to blink as her eyes were forced to adjust to the dim light of the cave which still proven searingly bright compared to the tempting tranquillity her eyelids had provided. When her vision finally focused she saw Saiko and Agh¡¯zak staring down at her with concern. The human sellsword was clutching at his side with one hand, his face unhealthily pale and appeared to be standing by nothing more than willpower going by the tension running through him. Somehow Agh¡¯zak looked even worse, there was an angry looking red wound running from his shoulder to his sternum, the stitching sinking into the flesh where infection was starting to set in as well as wound on his chest that had scabbed over, the normally healthy green skin looking like it had contracted a mold or fungus where it had clotted and matted in his chesthair. ¡°What the hell happened to you two?¡± She demanded bluntly. Agh¡¯zak and Saiko looked at each other once in silent consultation then burst out laughing. * The journey back was not an easy one. Alisha had exhausted herself once more teleporting them out, and they¡¯d had to take turns carrying her for the day she¡¯d remained asleep. There were further complications, for all that they at least were sure of their route back it didn¡¯t make it easy. By definition the majority of their path was uphill and even a gentle slope quickly took its toll on the walking wounded. Agh¡¯zak¡¯s infection and resultant fever didn¡¯t begin to break until the fourth day, the infamous orcish constitution seeing him through what would have killed any normal man and the chef¡¯s own tenacity and general refusal to die taking him the rest of the way, but it had made progress slow. They hadn¡¯t been able to get Saiko¡¯s armour off until the second day and the blademaster had wept with pain as they¡¯d done it. By that point pretty much his entire chest had been purple and black from bruising and even Alisha¡¯s delicately probing fingers have evoked whimpers of pain through the belt Saiko had been forced to bite down on. Seven broken ribs and a punctured lung. Given the Questing Beast had tried to turn him into a human mash against the walls he¡¯d gotten off relatively lightly, but only relatively, in more absolute terms the fact he was standing only because the sole remaining option was to sit down and wait for the three of them to die. Neither of his friends had been prepared to abandon him and that alone was pushing him forwards. That was true of all three of them really. Alisha had channelled more mana and magicka in the last week than she had in the last millennium and her head throbbed with the pain of it and she had to be helped to walk, not because her legs had a problem because she simply kept forgetting that was what she was supposed to be doing. She had managed to muster enough healing prowess to clear up the worst of Saiko¡¯s bruising before she¡¯d all but collapsed from the resulting migraine. Nevertheless, with enough wounds between them to kill four men and supplies running out on the ascent, they managed to make out back into the daylight. There was one last incident of note on the way up. As they walked through the ruins of Daum¡¯Kelok, Saiko turned back to stare at the troll soldiers still maintaining their eternal last stand. ¡°Hey Alisha, what¡¯s the longest someone¡¯s been gorgon-gazed before being turned back?¡± ¡°I have no idea. I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s gone so far as to actually test it.¡± The muse shrugged, not looking back. It would have been a terrible waste of energy she frankly didn¡¯t have. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Oh no reason.¡± The mercenary assured her, increasing his stride to catch up, ¡°Just a passing thought.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 24 - The Web Above ¡°This is going to change things.¡± Erebus said softly as he and his companions emerged into the sunlight. ¡°You¡¯ve already said that.¡± Weaver of New Tales chided, the arachni was busy trying to stare at the sun with all of her eyes, though at least she wasn¡¯t trying to use her magnifier on it as well. ¡°Repeatedly.¡± Natalya added, the necromancer stretching languidly before she took off her cloak and rolled up her sleeves, just wanting the feel the sun upon her skin after so long in the dark. ¡°And I stand by it. This is going to change things.¡± Erebus repeated, not taking the time to enjoy the sun as so many of those around him were but already beginning to conjure up a campsite. Moving earth for a firepit with one spell and weaving shadows into tents with another. Close to a hundred arachni, practically a Great Web in its own right and certainly the largest migration in living memory, and possibly unliving memory as well. And only one of them had ever even seen sunlight before. So far the massive spiders were alternating between staring mindlessly at the world around them, desperately webbing themselves to the ground for fear of falling into the sky and covering their eyes where the brightest light they¡¯d ever known threatened to burn the sight from their eyes. Oh how they envied the other sapient people¡¯s their eyelids. ¡°But a good change I think.¡± Opined the one arachni who wasn¡¯t in awe of their surroundings. Then again it wasn¡¯t like Ariadne had been using her eyes to see for a long, long time. ¡°You know I honestly thought I¡¯d never feel the sun upon my carapace again. You¡¯ve done us a great service necromancer, or, if I¡¯ve heard the whispering rightly, would you prefer archmage?¡± ¡°I¡¯d prefer Erebus, Great Ariadne¡± The hero of the hour replied, trying not to look openly annoyed at the appellation. ¡°Archmage seems an insult when in the presence of one more learned.¡± ¡°Perhaps, and in that case just Ariadne will suffice, but I could not have done what you did in the deeps. You did a great and terrible thing down there, and I truly believe we are all better for it.¡± The spider-lich observed softly. ¡°Not all of us.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°Not even close to all of us.¡± ¡°It was a terrible death, as deaths go.¡± Ariadne agreed, ¡°I could tell you that it was worth it if you like? That her dying sowed the seeds of her killer¡¯s destruction. That she gave her life so that the Great Enemy could receive its first wound since the Primordial War. But you know these things and they do nothing for the pain.¡± The huge spider shook her massive head, ¡°Hold on to that pain Erebus. You walk the path of heroes and monsters, when a friend¡¯s death stops hurting you¡¯ll know you¡¯re no longer the right one.¡± ¡°I am certainly no hero.¡± The necromancer disagreed, still working on the campsite as they spoke. ¡°Frankly this world has far more need of monsters than heroes. Heroes get people killed. They take fights they cannot win and doom everyone in their failure.¡± ¡°As you say, heroes get people killed.¡± Ariadne countered, ¡°Look after your heart Erebus, it is easily your greatest feature and I fear you have more to suffer before your appointment with the scythed one.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure there¡¯s much more I can suffer.¡± ¡°I can think of at least three things that can be taken from you.¡± The chitinous behemoth told him flatly, turning to stare at where Lana and Natalya had apparently decided to bodyguard Weaver, or were perhaps just giving Erebus some space, while the arachni was all but insensate with wonderment and ill-advised sungazing. It wasn¡¯t that Weaver was silent, her feet were all but dancing out groundspeak at a pace even a native speaker would have struggled to understand, but given neither of them were native speakers it was a wasted effort. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking on that and I was thinking of leaving them here with you. The world has changed a lot since you went underground and they could do a lot of good here.¡± Erebus began. ¡°Liar.¡± The lich snapped, ¡°They would not forgive you for such a betrayal.¡± ¡°That might be for the best. The prophecy¡­¡± ¡°Tells you the destination, it says nothing of the road.¡± Ariadne told him sharply. ¡°Yes you go to your death, it is fair and reasonable that you do not desire to drag your companions beyond the Veil with you. But do not be so weak as to deprive them of their own choices. Susan chose to travel with you, she knew the risks. Sato the same. You dishonour their memory by acting as if they died by your choices and not by their own.¡± ¡°Where the hells did that come from?¡± Erebus snapped, glaring at her, gaze fixed on her two frontmost eyes. ¡°Experience. Do you know how many brave and heroic souls have left my web since we were trapped underground? How many noble adventurers swore that they would be the ones to slay the darkness? To bring back a fresh source of food? To tell the surface of our survival?¡± She asked him, before proving it rhetorical by answering, ¡°Tens of thousands. And I could have stopped each and every one of them. I did not, because for all my power and my knowledge, for all I was sure I knew better, if I gainsaid their decisions I would have been a tyrant to my people. And so I mourned them instead.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not the same. You were their leader-¡° ¡°And they do not look to you for guidance? Do they not go along with your decisions because they have faith in you? You hold so tightly to the cost but let me tell you of the rewards. Since you began this quest you have laid low a sidhe lord who has terrorized Reath since before even my youth. You have humiliated one of the rulers of Avalon. Opened up several miles of land in a time where the map is ever shrinking. Freed a people from an eternity trapped in darkness. Made the Underreath safe to live in once more. Wiped out one of the few existential threats Reath faces and spat in the eye of the most powerful being to exist in the history of history itself.¡± ¡°But the cost-¡° ¡°Was great. It always is. Two of the greatest mages of your generation lie dead, a divine spark has passed from this world and one of the few aetheric chains that actually matter is broken. And it was worth it. What it wasn¡¯t worth is the disgusting self-pity you cloak yourself with now or the false humility you all but exude. You are the greatest mage of your time, a peer of immortal, god and devil, an archmage by any measure, it¡¯s about damn time you acted like it.¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Erebus didn¡¯t respond at first, taking the lecture with, if not good grace, then at least consideration. ¡°You want me to lead them to their deaths.¡± ¡°Want you to? Certainly not. Need you to? Quite possibly. You have terrible foes young Erebus, terrible enough I¡¯m glad they¡¯re yours and not mine.¡± Ariadne patted him on the shoulder with one of her forelegs. ¡°You can¡¯t stop them going with you, and though you may try to move the world to stop it, you can¡¯t protect them always, all you can do is make it that if they do die then they die for something worthy of them.¡± ¡°What are your plans then?¡± Erebus asked, ¡°If I¡¯m to face such terrible foes then it would help to have an undead archmage at my side.¡± ¡°I will establish a new Great Web aboveground with what few arachni agreed to return to the surface. With the Underreath now empty there will be much room for my people to expand, we may yet see a new golden age for the arachni. But first, I have an aunt to visit and to thank for gently nudging a very stubborn necromancer in my direction.¡± The stubborn necromancer nodded his understanding, ¡°Then I wish you luck on your travels. It will take me a little while to gather enough mana to teleport out with Lana and Natalya but I expect we will depart within the hour.¡± ¡°And abandon poor Weaver?¡± Ariadne asked, if she¡¯d had an eyebrow to arch she¡¯d have done so. ¡°I thought she was going with you¡­?¡± ¡°Oh no. I made myself quite clear, Weaver is no longer a part of this web.¡± She told him flatly. ¡°So look after her.¡± ¡°I will as best I am able.¡± Erebus assured her. There wasn¡¯t much more to say really. They could have gone over the current state of the surface, the many trials they both would face but everything actually important had already been said. Crossing over to his friends he found Natalya stifling laughter as Weaver bobbed drunkenly from side to side. ¡°It¡¯s sooo bright. How do you all live like this all day?¡± The rather bubbly spider asked, her faculties of speech apparently restored. ¡°We don¡¯t. The sun¡¯s only around for half the day, a little less than that given the season.¡± Natalya explained in the tired but amused tone of one who had already answered their daily allocation of questions and then some. ¡°That is so weird.¡± Weaver babbled, ¡°Erebus told me the surface was different but this is just bizarre.¡± ¡°What did he tell you?¡± The necromancer asked despite her better judgement. ¡°That you can grow things that aren¡¯t mushrooms here, that there are millions of people and that sometimes water just falls out of the sky¡­ though I¡¯m pretty sure he was joking about that last one.¡± The spider gesticulating with four legs at a time in her excitement. ¡°No that¡¯s very real. We call it rain. And sometimes it¡¯s frozen and then we call it snow, or sometimes hail¡­ now that I think about it we have a lot of different types of weather.¡± Natalya mused. ¡°Don¡¯t forget the occasional rain of herring.¡± Erebus interjected with a smile. ¡°That happened just once, and we¡¯re almost certain it was a weather mage messing about.¡± His friend pushed back. ¡°Only almost.¡± He said cheerily, ¡°Now is everyone ready to get going? The others are going to be wondering where we are.¡± ¡°I thought we were staying here a while.¡± Weaver protested, ¡°You just set up the camp.¡± ¡°For them, not for us.¡± He explained, indicating the gathered arachni. ¡°Ariadne¡¯s told me you¡¯re still exiled from the web.¡± ¡°Of course she did. My honoured ancestor is too stubborn to ever admit a mistake, but I was right wasn¡¯t I?¡± The spider said, voice still pleasantly bubbly. From her position of quiet observation Lana was starting to believe she simply didn¡¯t know how to modulate her tone with the spell. ¡°Yes you were. Welcome to the reward for a job well done. Another job.¡± Erebus said humourlessly. ¡°You can go your own way if you want, I certainly can¡¯t guarantee your safety if you do come with us.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t choose to leave my home so that I could be safe, husband.¡± The spider chided, flicking him on the forehead with a foreleg. ¡°Will there be adventure? Sights no arachni has seen since we were locked beneath Reath?¡± ¡°Adventure naturally.¡± Erebus smiled, resting a hand on the top of her abdomen. ¡°Though I can¡¯t promise sights unseen, yours is not the only web to survive to today. I know of at least three more.¡± ¡°That¡¯s incredible news. We thought we might be the only ones¡­. Does my ancestor know?¡± Weaver asked, all but bouncing in place. ¡°I¡¯ve declined to tell her on account of the fact her aunt will stab me if someone other than her gets to share the good news.¡± The necromancer replied as beneficently as he could manage. ¡°I have heard rumours that Dus could be quite cruel to those who oppose her.¡± Weaver mused, not quite understanding why both necromancers burst into giggles. ¡°Oh no. It¡¯s because Dus considers me a friend that she would only stab me if I robbed her of the pleasure.¡± Erebus clarified with a concerning fondness. ¡°So where are we going and how are we getting there?¡± The arachni asked softly, moving Erebus¡¯ hand away but only so she can weave from her shadow a backpack for herself, it was a little odd as backpacks went, having to accommodate all eight legs, and there was no way she¡¯d be able to access its contents herself ¨C the major reason the backpack had never caught on amongst arachni who preferred a sack or some form of travelling case attached to a small silk line ¨C but a show of willing tended to go a long way. ¡°Nowhere you¡¯ll have to fetch and carry.¡± The necromancer snorted, ¡°We¡¯re teleporting to a death zone we recently broke open.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t teleporting really dangerous? Ariadne always said it was dangerous.¡± Weaver objected, ¡°Really, really dangerous.¡± ¡°There is an element of risk yes, but the other methods of magical travel are denied us as things stand.¡± ¡°There are other methods of magical transport?¡± She inquired, marvelling at such a concept. ¡°Verily. The realm of shadow will be crawling with umbramancers trying to figure out what in all the hells just happened, so that would be a running battle. The mirror network has been denied me a very long time, it turns out that shattering a mirror when a doppelganger is clawing its way out is a bad idea. The Great Dreaming is controlled by a being that holds a great personal enmity to me and would charge a heavy toll for the travel and Avalon would require me to duel three deity class threats in rapid succession.¡± Erebus listed them off on his fingers. ¡°Isn¡¯t that just walking through other dimensions?¡± The arachni asked, apparently unimpressed by the ability to tear the fragile membrane that separated Reath from the many adjacent, and sometimes parasitic, dimensions that had built up around it. ¡°It¡¯s not really what I¡¯d call magical transport.¡± Erebus folded his arms, ¡°Now you¡¯re just being awkward.¡± ¡°Quite possibly.¡± Weaver admitted, pedipalps twitching in amusement. ¡°I don¡¯t want you treating me like some know-nothing yokel.¡± ¡°I¡¯m hardly going to do that, teacher.¡± The necromancer promised, inclining his head to her. ¡°You were kind and patient with me when I was getting used to the Underreath, it¡¯s only fair I treat you the same.¡± Even with six eyes Weaver managed to avoid his gaze, ¡°When did you get wise?¡± ¡°If it ever happens I¡¯ll let you know.¡± Erebus jested before growing serious once more, ¡°One of the big things I¡¯ve learned is that wisdom isn¡¯t even half as important as kindness. And you helped teach me that, you and a thousand others who gave me aid with no thought of repayment.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re saying you¡¯re a kind man?¡± She teased, poking him with a foreleg. ¡°I¡¯m saying I try to be.¡± ¡°So what should I expect travelling with you?¡± His old teacher asked, and she was old for an arachni, well into her second century, not that it showed much. She¡¯d always been slow to molt, slow to grow, and Ariadne had told her it meant she likely had a long life ahead of her before the magical toll of maintaining her impossibly large body grew too much for her. That was how most arachni died, they just grew themselves to death, every molt it got a little harder to breathe as the inexorable strength of physics overcame the magic of their birthright just a little more. ¡°Danger, a high likelihood of death, a heavy helping of adventure and just a soupcon of bafflement.¡± Erebus assured her. ¡°Brilliant.¡± The spider replied, ¡°When do we leave?¡± ¡°Just as soon as I finish drawing in the mana for the teleport.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 25 - A Battle, A Game & A Conversation There wasn¡¯t a welcoming committee for them. That was the most obvious sign something was terribly wrong. The teleport area had at least been kept clear, though that could have been sheer luck. The second sign something was wrong came as they were still recovering from teleport nausea (it turned out arachni couldn¡¯t throw up but they could accidentally discharge webbing). A lance of vermilion light shot high into the air and the distant sound of an explosion tore through the (suddenly) evening stillness. Noone so much as hesitated, from groggy to a dead sprint in less than a second. Lana and Natalya moved at supernatural speed, demonic power and a mastery of healing respectively allowing them to transcend the normal limits of living flesh. Erebus left them both in the dirt, little more than a fading afterimage as he pulled out all the stops. He couldn¡¯t slow or speed up time on Reath, and, without time enough to steer or take in what he was seeing, high speed would likely smear him against the buildings. So he went up. True flight was an incredibly taxing spell, because it wasn¡¯t strictly speaking one spell. Air resistance had to be minimised with an aerodynamic shield, that also protected the eyes. Gravity had to be overcome and an impetus in the direction desired provided. And that was the simplest flight. The necromancer didn¡¯t bother with a flight spell, simply flinging himself into the air with telekinesis (a difficult application of the art given that the caster was usually the fulcrum and not the object but possible). After that it was a simple matter of keeping his arms and legs streamlined and keeping the insects and wind out of his eyes. That and hoping he¡¯d judged the arc properly. From his position in the sky he could see that Valda had not had an easy time of it in his absence, several buildings had been collapsed, and he recognized that sideways slouch the roofs had fallen into as a clear sign someone had been thrown clear through the walls. Mills¡¯ office had apparently been slagged and the infirmary was almost entirely obscured by thorned vines. Frankly only The Melodious Duck seemed unscathed, though someone had apparently taken the time to inexpertly draw a moustache on the sign¡¯s venerable if irritable mallard. In the square he could make out the people fighting. Or not people as the case may be. Two companies worth of skeletons were still up and fighting, with he knew not how many already broken upon the cobbles. Alice was laying about with a heavy staff, the grizzled and wispy haired soldier moved slowly but deliberately. Every movement a beauty of economy and a symphony of fresh agony for the shapeshifter, but she didn¡¯t stop for even a moment. Each strike broke bones, sent blades falling to the floor or shattered skulls. Amara seemed tired, exhausted even. The finest pyromancer he¡¯d ever met wasn¡¯t using fire anymore, simply battering the skeletons into powder with a mace. She didn¡¯t even seem to be using her more than mortal strength either. What really surprised him was Alec, the teenager was a veritable dervish, inexpert perhaps but indefatigable for all that he was drenched in his own sweat, a near manic snarl on his face as his spatha cleaved down through a ribcage, half handing the blade to pivot it into place to stop the skeleton¡¯s retaliatory strike and removing an arm as he withdrew. Erebus nearly intervened as another undead trooper snuck up on Alec from behind, blade poised to pierce his student¡¯s back. He needn¡¯t have worried. A thick root burst from the cobbles to wrap around the skeleton¡¯s swordarm, letting his apprentice cut down that monster as well. Wherever Holly was she had to be drinking mana potions like they were water. From his position in the sky Erebus could easily see the shape of this battle. Textbook modern Necropolis tactics when dealing with a dangerous mage or demon. Deploy the nearest garrison and tire them out with an endless tide of ossified soldiers, exhausting the enemy by keeping them from sleep, the skeletons by their very existence taking mana from the air so that magicka began to run dry, then, when fatigued had set in teleporting in a circle of liches to finish the job. That was a good thing for his beleaguered friends for two reasons. If the Necropolis was doing it like this then it was a unilateral attack rather than a Council sponsored combined arms effort, but more importantly these were undead, and Erebus was a necromancer. The battle stopped the moment he landed in the square, a single spell ensnaring the skeletons and cutting them off from the distant puppetry of their Necropolis overlords. It wasn¡¯t quite the blinding error it seemed on the Necropolis¡¯ part, to stop him they¡¯d have had to place a living or unliving mage on the field itself. More than anyone except the Sanitatem Institute, the Necropolis knew the value of a life, and if he had been a part of the battle from the start it would have been just getting someone killed. Better to just use mindless skeletons. With a murmured instruction the skeletons all began to fall back, two more falling to Alec¡¯s blade before he realized that the battle was over. ¡°Is everyone alright?¡± was Erebus¡¯ first question, for all that the answer was an obvious no. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Alice managed, the pained hiss of the words betraying her. ¡°You¡¯re not healing.¡± The necromancer observed quietly. ¡°I. Am. Fine.¡± His friend declared, enunciating each with the finality of a judge. ¡°You¡¯ve been stabbed. At least twice.¡± Erebus pressed, crossing over to try and get a better look at the wounds. ¡°I will live Ere.¡± She snarled as she pushed him away, ¡°Look to Amara, she¡¯s practically bloodcrazy.¡± Sure enough a single glance was all Erebus needed to confirm it, his vampire friend was hunched and catlike on the floor, her pupils little more than pinpricks as tension ran across her body from the sheer effort of not just jumping on him or Alec to feast. ¡°Amara?¡± He asked gently, speaking as one would to a frightened animal, ¡°I¡¯m going to approach you.¡± There was no response from the vampire beyond perhaps her fingers digging even further into the dirt, a closer inspection revealed she was crying from sheer frustration as she fought to hold herself together. Calmly Erebus walked over to her, offering her his wrist, which Amara took wordlessly, biting down as she finally sated the maddening hunger, the necromancer careful to make sure she didn¡¯t take more than the pint or so needed to turn genuine starvation to merely ravenous, though he had to all but rip his arm from her grasp to do so. ¡°A hard few days I take it.¡± Erebus noted, trying not to laugh as Lana and Natalya burst into the square, weapons raised only to find the battle already over. It was Alice who answered, and it looked like just speaking was an effort for the exhausted shapeshifter, ¡°A First Response team found us. Ilvere¡¯s in the infirmary, she¡¯s been stabbed through the gut. If the scum that did it hadn¡¯t enjoyed watching people bleed out she¡¯d be dead. We had twenty-four hours of peace then the Necropolis descended. My guess is they summoned the soul of the team¡¯s necromancer to get our location.¡± ¡°That seems a reasonable conclusion. Thank the Martyr the Necropolis likes to handle things in house.¡± Erebus shook his head regretfully. ¡°How so?¡± Alice inquired, bemused at the observation. ¡°If they¡¯d done what they should have, shared the information with the Council then you¡¯d have been facing heavyweight mages from a dozen disciplines teleported in with the fodder rather than just classic Necropolis attrition.¡± The shapeshifter gave that a moment to sink in before laughing, ¡°Good point. Thank the Martyr for necromantic arrogance.¡± ¡°How¡¯s Alec holding up?¡± He asked more quietly, watching as Natalya also donated Amara a pint of crimson life. ¡°Badly.¡± Alice shook her head, ¡°Hellfire and damnation that doesn¡¯t do it justice. Kid¡¯s all business when holding a sword, soon as the battle¡¯s over he goes to pieces and- Crap he¡¯s gone already.¡± With an infuriated growl and grumble she began hobbling towards where she knew Alec would be, using her quarterstaff for support whilst continuing to get Erebus up to speed as they walked, ¡°He killed one of the First Response team, it wasn¡¯t what I¡¯d wish on anyone for a first kill either. One of Sato¡¯s phials turned the guy into a puddle, armour and all. Normally I¡¯d have made him stay out of the fighting after that but¡­¡± She gestured to the near countless shattered bones that now littered Valda. ¡°But you were being overrun and didn¡¯t have any able bodied people to spare.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve been under that hammer. It sucks.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t make it any easier to cope with. Still¡­¡± Alice reached into a pocket and handed Erebus a handful of coins, ¡°whoever trained him to use a blade, buy them a beer with that.¡± ¡°I will.¡± The necromancer promised, shaking his head in bemusement. ¡°What¡¯s he doing to cope?¡± He fretted, there were many vices a despairing teenager could discover, none of which he¡¯d wish for Alec, a feeling that only got worse as The Melodious Duck came into view. ¡°At first we were worried he was getting drunk after each battle.¡± The shapeshifter grumbled, hurrying to get ahead so she could hold the door for Erebus, knowing it would annoy him and that brief amusement made the pain of the exertion more than worth it. ¡°But apparently he¡¯s found the joys of gambling.¡± The necromancer winced, stepping into the tavern to see Alec in the process of sitting down with the three people still playing cards there, each of them furnished with a rather foamy mug of beer ¨C a skilled bartender the teenager was not ¨C which had presumably acted as his buy-in. Erebus¡¯ first instinct was to step in and stop this but he wouldn¡¯t have been a necromancer if he didn¡¯t first stop to listen, enhancing his hearing with magic. Going from Alice¡¯s own slightly constipated expression she was doing something similar. ¡°I still maintain this is a bad idea.¡± The old man grumbled, ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be letting him play.¡± ¡°And I told you I¡¯ll cover his bets.¡± The young woman replied, her robe returned to her by a grateful Alec. ¡°That¡¯s if he loses.¡± The last of the three said, a beautiful lady in a sea-green dress, ¡°What if he wins?¡± ¡°Then he wins.¡± The young woman answered simply, ¡°If you¡¯ve got a problem with that then perhaps we should play for lower stakes? And I¡¯ll call.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s the fun in that.¡± The beautiful one complained, ¡°I¡¯ll call.¡± ¡°Also call.¡± The old man decided after a moment of thought, ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better I¡¯d say you¡¯re trying to rig the game sis.¡± There was no response to that as a card was revealed to the table, everyone considering their options. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ raise?¡± Alec suggested, sounding unsure and uncertain as he added a couple of round tokens to the pile. They were of a strange material he didn¡¯t know, and despite the four different distinct appearances they didn¡¯t seem to have any difference in denomination. The tokens the robed woman had given him had been a gorgeous grass green with a picture of the sun on them whilst her own had been a deep and dusty grey. The old man¡¯s tokens were rough and a deep orange, whatever picture had been on them had faded long ago whilst the lady in the dress¡¯ were a perfect emerald green. ¡°Call.¡± The robed woman answered Alec before turning to her much older brother, ¡°More trying to unrig it.¡± She glanced at the door where Erebus waited and watched, ¡°I think this is going to have to be our last hand.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± The old man grumbled, stroking his frankly ridiculous beard thoughtfully, ¡°This game doesn¡¯t favour us.¡± ¡°Just be glad we finally got her to stop playing chess.¡± The third one sniped, ¡°And I fold.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± He repeated, ¡°You might be fine making everything into a game of chance but you and I both know you can¡¯t win those forever. I fold.¡± ¡°Time for you to show us your cards Alec.¡± The young woman said in a rather motherly fashion. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Alec did so, revealing two aces to match the two already face up on the table to a laugh from the young woman. ¡°Looks like you take the pot.¡± She said, getting up from the table without even revealing her cards as Alec stared at the chips with surprise. ¡°What do I do with them?¡± The teenager asked bemusedly as he scooped up his winnings. ¡°Oh just hold onto them for now.¡± She chuckled, ¡°Now I¡¯m afraid we have to go to work.¡± The old man sighed, ¡°Do we have to?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve dallied and delayed enough old sport.¡± As she headed for the door she offered Erebus her hand to shook, which he did with a confused expression. ¡°Good luck young necromancer. I¡¯m a huge fan of your work.¡± With that she was gone, the other two shuffling past without a word. ¡°Who was that?¡± Alice asked whilst Erebus stared at their retreating backs. It took the necromancer a short while to answer, ¡°I have absolutely no idea.¡± Seeking insight he crossed the room to pick up one of Alec¡¯s poker chips, examining it carefully. There wasn¡¯t even a hint of magic on them, nor chaos, divinity or any other esoteric energy he could detect or put a name to. ¡°Plastic.¡± He mused aloud, ¡°They¡¯re just plastic.¡± ¡°What the devil is plastic?¡± Alice asked, staring back at him with a foam¡¯stache where she¡¯d apparently decided to finish one of the strangers¡¯ drinks, not out of any investigative impetus or instinct but just because she¡¯d been thirsty. ¡°It¡¯s an alchemical product. Very inert, so it¡¯s used to store a lot of volatile chemicals and alchemicals. I¡¯ve never even heard of someone using it to make gaming chips.¡± ¡°Is it valuable?¡± Alice asked, looking at Alec¡¯s pile of chips with more curiosity than avarice. The time for hoarding wealth in her life had come and gone long ago. ¡°Well it¡¯s rarer than even adamantine but once it¡¯s set like this you can¡¯t really work it, and its uses are so specialised that most alchemy labs just choose to make their own so¡­ not really no.¡± A perplexed Erebus explained as he considered the chip for a moment later before tossing it back to Alec. ¡°A mystery for another time?¡± The old shapeshifter suggested. ¡°A mystery for another time.¡± Erebus concurred, turning his attention to Alec, ¡°I heard about what happened.¡± ¡°Which part?¡± The teenager snapped bitterly, ¡°The bit where I betrayed Holly, the bit where I handed myself over as a hostage like an idiot or the part where I killed a man who didn¡¯t want to fight me?¡± ¡°The part where you were brave enough to risk your life to protect others.¡± Erebus informed him kindly, moving to rest a hand on Alec¡¯s shoulder. To his dismay the teen shrugged it off, stepping back and away. ¡°I don¡¯t know all the details but I¡¯m going to guess Holly¡¯s still holding it against you?¡± ¡°¡­no.¡± His prot¨¦g¨¦ admitted, the admission alone made him seem to shrink a little. Once Holly had calmed down after the initial battle she¡¯d been all too understanding. ¡°But you want her to.¡± Erebus concluded, ¡°If she¡¯s choosing not to hold a grudge then perhaps that should tell you something.¡± ¡°It says she¡¯s too kind for her own good.¡± Alec all but spat. ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like Holly to me.¡± The necromancer grinned, ¡°She¡¯s many things. Intelligent, witty, headstrong, brave even, but she¡¯s also spiteful, angry at the world and every bit as thorny as the tree that spawned her. If she¡¯s choosing to let this go then that means you should too.¡± The teenager thought about that then shook his head, ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°What¡¯s stopping you?¡± Erebus asked, beckoning the boy to a chair as he sat down opposite him. On the surface of it this was a terrible waste of his time, there were a thousand things he should be doing right now. He should be briefing everyone on what happened in the deeps, checking on Ilvere in the infirmary, declaring open rebellion on the Necropolis, and those were just the immediate things. This was the most unimportant thing in the world right now, but the problem was it always would be. There was always another crisis, another horror to be send back into the shadows, and there would never be time to deal with the traumatized teen until that trauma had devoured him entirely. So he made the time. There was no guarantees he¡¯d be able to help Alec, he¡¯d seen so many people who¡¯d simply been broken by killing, even worse he¡¯d seen people who¡¯d enjoyed it, and thank all the gods that yet lived that the boy wasn¡¯t one of them. Nonetheless he had to try. For several minutes Alec didn¡¯t speak, Erebus waiting patiently in silence until at last the boy said, ¡°Because killing is wrong. I took something from someone that can never be given back, isn¡¯t it right I should feel awful for that?¡± It was Erebus¡¯ turn to think, considering his words as carefully as any ritual or rite, ¡°I could fob you off with platitudes right now, tell you that it was you or him. That I¡¯d have done the same, and I would have. You¡¯re right, you should feel awful, and I fear the day I stop hating killing.¡± Alec frowned, as pep talks went this wasn¡¯t one. ¡°Then what should I-¡° ¡°Uh uh¡­ stop that. First you¡¯re going to tell me what happened, from the beginning. I¡¯ve been told Alice¡¯s version, lets hear yours.¡± Alec did, the words hesitant at first then flowing freely as he let it all out in a desperate flood whilst the necromancer just nodded and occasionally prompted him with a question. The teenager didn¡¯t know at what point he¡¯d started crying but when at least he ran out of words he found his cheeks wet and his shirt damp. Erebus steepled his fingers as he thought through his words. ¡°The way I see it,¡± He began with a paternal smile, ¡°you didn¡¯t go in there seeking glory, you didn¡¯t go in there seeking to kill, you went in there to protect people, and, although you certainly made some mistakes, protect them you did. Noone ever gets it perfectly right Alec, to err is human and forgivable. Your motive was pure, you didn¡¯t do it out of hate or anger, or any other horror I could name. Killing is a terrible thing. It always will be, but you did it for the best reasons imaginable and sometimes we just have to be content with that. Does that help?¡± ¡°Some.¡± Alec nodded whilst dabbing at his eyes. ¡°So what should I do now?¡± ¡°Get some sleep, you¡¯ve been up for what? A day? Day and a half?¡± Erebus all but ordered as he rose from his chair. ¡°Just uh¡­ wait long enough for Holly to drop the armour of thorns she¡¯s put up around the infirmary, I need to see to Ilvere next.¡± ¡°She¡¯s already done it.¡± The teenager told him, moving over to a bench with a reasonably comfortable cushion to curl up. Whatever had been driving him had evidently run its course. Erebus smiled then went to seek out Ilvere, bursting into the infirmary to already find Natalya stood over the rookie Guardian, bright green sparks spilling from her hands onto the bandaged wound. Holly already asleep on one of the beds. ¡°Next time we split up we leave a healer with each group.¡± Nat told him sharply, not looking up from her work as she carefully fixed the wounds, killing off the infection that had begun to take hold then starting to close the cut itself. Erebus watched her do it, there was a level of artistry to this kind of healing. Panacea¡¯s were massively crude and inefficient, few healers even could cast them but this kind of healing was far more skillful, requiring an intricate understand of the human form and the thousands of threats it could face. It was why necromancy and healing often went hand in hand and he¡¯d seen few who could mix and match the two as well as Natalya, especially in those areas where it had to go together. Wounds on the soul required a necrohealer and were so rare one might go their whole career without seeing even one. As he understood it Natalya was currently the only expert alive on the continent, the other having been mauled to death by a ragos demon when he¡¯d tried to triage before the area had been fully cleared. It hadn¡¯t entirely been the healer¡¯s fault, rage demons were renowned for¡­ well rage, attacking the first target they saw but they¡¯d been unfortunate enough to meet one that had a shred of patience. As to her pronouncement, Erebus merely nodded, ¡°If we can.¡± He assured her, stepping up to the bed, ¡°How are you feeling Ilvere?¡± ¡°Like I got stabbed in the gut by a sadist, why do you ask?¡± The geomancer replied cheerily, wincing as her laughter made her belly convulse. ¡°I think that¡¯s because you got stabbed in the gut by a sadist.¡± Erebus teased back, ¡°Congratulations by the way.¡± Ilvere tried to glare but it wouldn¡¯t stick, ¡°What am I being congratulated for?¡± ¡°You took a mortal wound in the line of duty. If you chose to you could retire right now, admittedly I doubt the paperwork would be easy given current circumstances but at minimum you¡¯ve got a medal coming your way.¡± He explained. This time she managed a proper glare, ¡°Stop making me laugh. It hurts too much.¡± ¡°Very well. But once you¡¯re both done here please meet me in the Duck so I can lay out our next steps.¡± Erebus told them with some relief as he continued down his mental checklist. Now he just had to check in with Amara and Weaver. * Fortunately he found the pair together and before night had fully fallen, Amara had chosen to distance herself from everyone, still massively hungry despite having fed from two mages, and, as the only one of them who wasn¡¯t appetizing in the slightest, Weaver of New Tales had stuck with her. The two were stood over Sato¡¯s grave, working together to create a fresh headstone for Susan. Or at least trying to, it wasn¡¯t going well. Neither had ever worked with geomancy or telekinesis and thus stone was in very short supply, so they¡¯d tried to make their own. It wasn¡¯t going well. Weaver had managed to weave a passable kiln out of the local shadows, as only an arachni umbramancer could, to keep heat in whilst Amara merrily poured fire into it to melt the heap of soil they¡¯d filled it with. So far all they¡¯d achieved was a type of impure glass and a bad smell. As Erebus approached he hit the kiln with an entropy spell. It resisted better than most magical constructs, instead of unravelling entirely it opened a hole in the side from which a semi-molten slurry began to ooze before the necromancer¡¯s second strike finished off the kiln. An air spell then dealt with the smell as he stared at them both with something at least akin to amusement. ¡°We were working with that.¡± Amara complained, looking a lot less shrivelled and pale than he¡¯d last seen her, if not quite back to her usual rich ebony. ¡°I know. I could smell it before I could see it.¡± The necromancer grumbled, ¡°I thought vampires had enhanced senses?¡± ¡°We do.¡± Amara replied quickly before admitting, ¡°I was choosing not to breathe.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll get a proper headstone for Susan ¡®Mar. Ilvere¡¯s just about healed.¡± Erebus promised, a reassuring hand upon his friend¡¯s shoulder. For once the necromancer found himself at a loss for words. There was so much he wanted to say, that Susan had been a hero, that she¡¯d died well, that the creature that had killed her had been sent fleeing from this world, but it wasn¡¯t the time for it. It would do nothing to dull the sense of loss that gnawed at them both, so he said nothing and the silence gnawed at him too. ¡°Weaver says you let the thing that killed her escape.¡± Amara growled, her tone even more accusatory than her words, as imperious as any strigoi or vampire lord. ¡°I didn¡¯t quite put it that way.¡± The arachni trembled under the vampire¡¯s ire. ¡°I did.¡± Erebus admitted, sitting down on the grass to stare back at Valda, as if ignoring Amara would make her go away or just too ashamed to look at her. ¡°Why?¡± There was no threat in it, just confusion and a rawness that he had hope never to see again. The mere idea he would let a foe escape, let a friend¡¯s killer survive, was anathema to her. It was, Erebus mused, his own fault. He¡¯d been too good at living a lie, but there were no lies forthcoming now to sooth Amara¡¯s pain, and besides his friends deserved better than that. ¡°I couldn¡¯t kill it.¡± He confessed wretchedly, ¡°It may even be beyond my power to kill.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t think there was anything on Reath you couldn¡¯t kill if you put your mind to it.¡± The vampire noted, shock written in her scrunched forehead, wide eyes and drawn lips. ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m very good at making months of planning look like off the cuff responses.¡± Erebus told her, unburdening secrets decades old; one monster to another. ¡°Even as cloistered as you¡¯ve been, you¡¯ve seen it haven¡¯t you? This world is slowly unravelling. Everyone talks about how the great peace with the paladins is a sign of compassion overcoming hate, that we can learn to trust and understand each other. It isn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll concede that things do seem to be getting worse.¡± Amara conceded slowly, ¡°But Ere, I was there when the Treaty of New Pax was signed. There is less hate in the world than there was back then, I¡¯ve seen that with my own two eyes. My own people are no longer the great terrors of the night, we¡¯re just people and we can walk without fear of stakes and torches in just about any city in the Paladin Protectorate.¡± ¡°Perhaps, but the reason it¡¯s happening isn¡¯t that we¡¯ve all learned to be better more tolerant people. It¡¯s because we can no longer afford to be at each other¡¯s throats, and even now there are far too many who would happily burn as long as those they call enemy burn alongside them.¡± He shook his head wearily, ¡°The disaster at Maltz convinced me this world needed a monster. A boogeyman that would send the old terrors of the world scurrying back under their rocks.¡± ¡°I suspect you¡¯re meandering slowly to a point here?¡± Amara huffed out an amused sigh. ¡°Just trying to provide context to the point.¡± Erebus smiled back at her, ¡°And the point is that it worked, and that it¡¯s never worked the way you think it did. All this rushing from crisis to crisis, I don¡¯t do that. Can you remember the first thing I did once I got back to Reath from the Hells?¡± ¡°It¡¯s hard to forget.¡± The vampire smirked, ¡°You appeared in a thunderstrike outside the Palace of Agony. Told the Archdemon of Pain that his time on Reath was at an end and when he refused to leave you clapped your hands once and the walls of the palace fell then walked in and killed the demon lord and banished all eight of his lieutenants in an eight on one duel. I saw it all on a scrying orb¡­ hells I think half the world did.¡± ¡°Half of Contenmere anyway.¡± Erebus rejoined, ¡°And did you never wonder how half a continent knew to be looking there?¡± ¡°Vulcanus got a tipoff that something was going down there from a lich we¡¯re on good terms on. She said she got it off Karatas who said¡­ oh. Yeah I see where this is going. You tipped off Karatas.¡± ¡°Guilty as charged. See the first thing I did on Reath was track down the plans for Kelthoras¡¯ palace, then when I found out that, like most paranoid despots, he¡¯d had the architect killed and the plans burned I sought out a historian.¡± Erebus scowled fiercely, good architects were worth a thousand demon lords in his eyes, ¡°Between us we worked out where he¡¯d had the bricks sourced and what the composition of the mortar was likely to be. After that I spent two whole months making bricks then trying to shake them apart with resonance ¨C as an aside you¡¯d be surprised just how many places forget to defend against physics as well as magic.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s terrifying but beyond your scorn for magical defences what¡¯s your point?¡± Admittedly Amara had a similar desultory approach to magical barriers. Having mana devouring flames tended to do that to a mage. ¡°That what looked like a single moment of overwhelming power was actually several months of planning. And that if we keep jumping from problem to problem we¡¯re all going to wind up dead.¡± Amara did a double-take at that, the pyromancer stunned into momentary silence, ¡°Y-you¡¯re only just figuring this out?¡± ¡°Wait you mean you already knew?!¡± Erebus spluttered, thoroughly flummoxed as his own revelation was trumped without mercy. ¡°Yes fearless leader, it¡¯s not exactly subtle and none of us are stupid. The first big sign was when an active death seeker decided to join us and it¡¯s rather escalated from there. Everyone knows, there are beetles that have lived there entire lives underground looking for worms to eat that probably know.¡± Amara shook her head, bemused to the point of admiration, ¡°I mean I know noone¡¯s actually omniscient but as blind spots go¡­ wow. Just wow.¡± ¡°Then why are you all still here? You should be running for the hills rather than being around me right now.¡± ¡°Ignoring the fact there are assassins after my red-robed ass? We¡¯re your friends, and you don¡¯t abandon your friends.¡± She explained patiently. ¡°That simple huh?¡± He arched an eyebrow at her, hiding his smile as best he could, though his lips twitched upwards all the same. ¡°Of course. Just remember, despite all you¡¯ve said, we trust your judgement. Now why are you really here?¡± ¡°I¡¯m planning a change of strategy.¡± Erebus told her, and if his eyes were a little watery everyone was kind enough not to mention it. ¡°Susan¡¯s death¡­ changes things. I¡¯m going to hold another meeting at the Melodious Duck, go over our options so to speak.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be there. Is there anything else we can do?¡± The vampire offered earnestly. ¡°Honestly your friendship is enough, and more than I deserve.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 26 - The Element of Surprise? ¡°I think it¡¯s time we talked aces.¡± Erebus began the meeting, ¡°I have it on good authority that there¡¯s an upcoming fight where I¡¯ll need at least three. Anyone currently holding any cards to their chest, now would be the time.¡± There was an uneasy silence, everyone, including Ilvere, was gathered around one of the tavern¡¯s long tables. The silence stretched, the discomfort growing as Erebus violated one of the biggest taboos in the battlemage business. Night was well and truly underway by now and the Duck was lit by a variety of magelights, Amara¡¯s orange flame was contained in a lantern on the table. There was a faint omnidirectional blue glow from Weaver that served mostly to outline people and objects creating eerie silhouettes. Natalya had a sterile white orb hovering somewhere near the ceiling whilst Erebus, not to be outdone, had setup a pattern of white lights to imitate the stars which made the roof appear transparent. Ilvere, more practically, had simply brought a candle and placed it on the table, bemused at the arcane jostling for position, and not entirely sure how score was being kept. Even Holly and Alec had made an effort the two managing between them to synthesize a glowing set of buds down the dryad¡¯s right arm. Only Lana hadn¡¯t brought light, the demon of pride stood by the tavern¡¯s open door to stare out at the night in search of threats. With their secrecy blown another attack could arrive at a moment¡¯s notice and the devil easily had the best senses in the group. The overall effect was¡­ abysmal frankly, a kaleidoscope of mismatched lighting that turned everyone in it into a vision from nightmares. When it finally became clear no one was going to answer him Erebus silently reached into his pocket and withdrew the lavender pearl he¡¯d retrieved in Arcadia, placing it on the table which began to sizzle and bubble from the contact. ¡°Right now I just have one. But I can get more, there¡¯s a weapons cache I plan to raid.¡± As soon as he¡¯d placed the fist-sized pearly down, Amara, Natalya and even Alice had recoiled, chairs scraping back across the floor as they tried to get away from it. ¡°Please tell me that¡¯s not what it looks like¡­¡± Natalya hissed, doing her best not to look at it directly, ¡°Please tell me even you¡¯re not dumb enough to carry one of those in your pockets.¡± ¡°I have unusual pockets.¡± Erebus understated, ¡°And it is a bound annihilation spell held within a sphere of crystallized will. Creator unknown.¡± As he spoke a crack appeared in the sphere, slowly spiderwebbing across the surface until the necromancer placed his hand upon it and the crack even more slowly sealed. When he removed his hand it was clear to anyone with eyes that even that brief contact had eaten the flesh to the bone, the necromancer healing it with not even a wince. ¡°What¡¯s the limits on it?¡± Alice asked, unlike the two terrified mages she was staring at the pearl as if entranced. ¡°One target, and any target.¡± Erebus said simply, ¡°As long as it¡¯s made up of matter from Reath at least, that¡¯s why I stored it in Avalon, nothing for it to interact with so there was no way for it to go critical in my absence.¡± ¡°Are you going to be able to keep it stable?¡± Amara asked hesitantly, her gaze darting between the sphere and the door as she wondered if she¡¯d be able to run away in time if the sphere shattered. ¡°I have a couple of ideas to do it. Now, I¡¯ve shown you mine, I think it¡¯s time you showed me yours.¡± The necromancer smirked as he stared down at his fellow mages with a passable approximation of lecherous. Natalya shook her head, covering her eyes in feigned disappointment, ¡°Fine, here¡¯s mine.¡± She pulled out a set of five hollow needles, four silver and one gold from inside her shirt, each about six inches long. ¡°Shield piercers, manticore venom, wraith essence, catoblepas breath, blutkind blood and the gold one is elder basilisk venom.¡± ¡°Nice.¡± Erebus flashed his teeth in a predatory grin, ¡°What¡¯s the limit on the piercers?¡± ¡°That I¡¯m not telling.¡± She replied flatly. ¡°Very well. Alice what about you?¡± ¡°I am the ace.¡± The warshifter told him as she got up to refill her tankard with yet another mug of ale. The shapeshifter¡¯s resistance to poison meant she might as well as have been drinking water but she was still making a valiant attempt to get drunk. ¡°Amara?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing.¡± The pyromancer shrugged, ¡°You already know everything I can do, and running for my life didn¡¯t give me much time to raid the Vulcanus armoury on the way out.¡± ¡°That¡¯s about what I expected.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°Anyone else?¡± Weaver raised a foreleg, ¡°If you give me a week I can probably shadowweave everyone a set of armour?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a nice thought but we don¡¯t really have a week. Now we¡¯ve been found we need to vacate Valda yesterday.¡± Erebus frowned, ¡°Okay moving on, the ideal plan would be for me to raid my weapons cache, teleport out somewhere to regain our strength, then hit whichever pyromancer cult took a swing at Amara. How are we coming along on that end?¡± ¡°Absolutely nowhere.¡± The pyromancer sighed, ¡°We were plodding along but the attacks ground everything to a halt. What we did manage to do was confirm foul play with The Cult of the Slumbering Forge, the two elementals there, Quench and Temper, were spawned as twins during the forge¡¯s sole attempt to work with adamantine. They were boon companions, no way they killed each other without warning, not that you¡¯d get that from the investigation. Whichever clown was in charge just saw two opposed elements in close proximity and called it a day, I had to go into the historicals to find out their history.¡± Natalya put a comforting hand on Amara¡¯s shoulder, ¡°That¡¯s still a lot better than nothing, it confirms someone murdered two elementals and got away with it, if we can just find a couple more you could probably just take it to Vulcanus, and they¡¯d sort it from there.¡± ¡°Doubtful.¡± Erebus declared, casually crushing hope before it could surge, ¡°All we have is supposition and coincidence. We¡¯d need something a lot more solid to- ¡° He shut up as an envelope wafted in through the open door, carried on winds he certainly wasn¡¯t seeing or feeling, until it deposited itself on the table in front of him as hundreds of miles away a desperate bard relaxed the hand they had raised towards the scrying orb in time to be lifted off his feet by the thaumic shockwave as the narrative they¡¯d been carefully building bent and buckled under their own efforts. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Well, that was hideously overt.¡± Erebus noted as he picked up the letter to read it (it was addressed to him personally), first sniffing the paper as well as to test it from trace magics that might tell him who the caster was. The latter coming up empty. To My Dearest Enemy, I have found irregularities in the number of elemental apotheosis over the last three hundred years. Not only are mages ascending at twice the usual rate but the apotheosis are failing at an even higher rate. I have come to the conclusion that someone is purposefully dosing promising elementalist mages to force more power upon them than they can handle then kidnapping them when they ascend, faking it as a death during ascension. I have in the course of my investigation concluded there are only two possible culprits, both of which are not suffering from these inflated rates. The Cult of the Ardent Wildfyre and Academy Vulcanus itself. You may check these facts for yourself but I sincerely doubt you have time enough to do so. For what purpose this is being done I cannot begin to speculate and I know you have little cause to trust me but time presses and I fear we are both running out of options if justice is to be done for the victims of the Maltz massacre. Yours hatefully, Your godson, Allister Lutan Erebus reread it three times before he handed it over to Amara, not offering any comment beyond the turmoil behind his eyes. Slowly the letter made its way around the table, everyone holding their tongue until it finally made its way back to Erebus who, after taking a deep breath, rolled the letter up and placed it into Amara¡¯s lantern. ¡°Well¡­¡± he began then stopped himself, not sure where to even begin. ¡°A bard.¡± Natalya spat, ¡°A hells-damned bard. And you didn¡¯t tell us.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± Erebus agreed, ¡°It would have done none of you any good at all. Just made you second-guess yourself into circles, you know, like I¡¯ve been doing.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a bard?¡± Weaver asked, partly out of curiosity and partly to divert Natalya before she could build up a full head of rage. ¡°A narrative mage.¡± Alec answered, giving a hapless shrug as everyone stared at him, ¡°It was in the Seruatis library. It¡¯s one of the banned magics, lets a mage manipulate events from afar by setting up coincidences that fall in their favour. It¡¯s a type of fate manipulation, which is why it¡¯s banned, though bards are supposed to be really subtle. Like really, really subtle. And sending a letter with everything we need to us while we¡¯re talking about it is about as unsubtle as it gets.¡± ¡°Lutan¡¯s desperate, if it is in fact Lutan,¡± Amara noted, ¡°Nothing says the bard has to use their own name.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Lutan.¡± Erebus promised, ¡°I recognise the handwriting.¡± ¡°It could be faked.¡± Alice rumbled, though even she looked doubtful. ¡°But it¡¯s not.¡± There was a terrible surety to the words. ¡°If we ignore the use of magic, and there¡¯s nothing for fueling hypocrisy quite like hate so we probably can. Lutan adores his traps, his little mindgames, and this one is a masterpiece for all that he¡¯s forsaken his more arcane assault against us. This fits his methods perfectly. ¡°I don¡¯t see how.¡± The elderly warshifter declared, a double helping of scorn piled upon the words, ¡°We go kill this cult and then we go kill him. After that we¡¯re basically free to pursue this prophecy of yours.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve got an elemental.¡± Amara pointed out with more than a hint of fear. ¡°Elementals can be killed.¡± Alice replied bluntly, eyes all but glowing with anticipation. ¡°Let me rephrase,¡± the pyromancer sighed, ¡°they have an elemental they¡¯ve been empowering in the hopes it can kill Qrilotesh.¡± ¡°That could certainly be a problem.¡± Natalya observed coolly, ¡°But the orb would be able to kill it if it¡¯s as powerful as Ere says.¡± ¡°Oh it is. But I¡¯ve got it on good authority there¡¯s something really dangerous waiting in the wings that I¡¯m going to need it for.¡± Erebus replied, eyes on Lana as he asked, ¡°unless our mystery elemental is who you were warning me about?¡± The devil shook her head, barely even glancing his way as she maintained her vigil. ¡°Listen to your own words necromancer mine, you can kill this thing in a single strike and I said you¡¯d need aces three.¡± ¡°Do you actually know what it is that¡¯s waiting for me?¡± He probed, perhaps more sharply than he¡¯d intended. ¡°My master didn¡¯t think I needed to know.¡± She shrugged, ¡°I trust her judgement. So did you last I recall.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ can someone clear something up for me?¡± Alec asked nervously, going so far as to raise his hand, ¡°You said it hopes to kill Qrilotesh but¡­ who¡¯s Qrilotesh and how do we know someone wants them dead?¡± There was a stony silence as all eyes fell on Amara, silently asking permission to share Vulcanus¡¯ worst kept secret. ¡°Fine.¡± The vampire conceded, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation, ¡°Fine. Qrilotesh is the elemental that lives in the volcano the Academy Vulcanus was built on. They¡¯re, if not the most powerful elemental on Reath, then certainly the most powerful currently awake.¡± ¡°Until now apparently.¡± Erebus added, turning to face Alec as he explained, ¡°the reason we know someone¡¯s trying to kill Qrilotesh is that they tried to kill Amara. Initially we all assumed the attempt to pluck her off the board was to prevent her from helping me but with what we now know it¡¯s rather the other way around. They went after her in the belief that I would be unable to follow up on her assassination.¡± ¡°And why does that mean they¡¯re trying to kill Qrilotesh?¡± Holly asked, about a breath before Alec could. The teenager shot the dryad an annoyed glance, the red haired tree spirit simply smiling back at him with such sincere innocence no one could think for a moment it was genuine. ¡°Because Amara is important to Qrilotesh, and was in the middle of a magical rite to empower her when they struck. Now it could be we¡¯re wrong here but there really aren¡¯t many other reason to go after her. Of all the mages here, bar Weaver, ¡®mar¡¯s led the most inoffensive life and made the fewest grudges.¡± ¡°So we¡¯re guessing.¡± Alec said, wanting to show he was keeping up. ¡°We¡¯re guessing.¡± Amara agreed, ¡°But it¡¯s a pretty good guess.¡± Alec took a second to let that sink in, silently conferring with Holly. It was eerie to watch really, the two¡¯s eyes and lips twitching as they responded to each other at the speed of thought. ¡°One final question,¡± Holly began, ¡°you said it was a trap. But¡­ I don¡¯t see how.¡± ¡°Because we¡¯re going to be outmanned, outmaged and outmatched.¡± Erebus answered tiredly, ¡°It¡¯s a fight we can¡¯t possibly hope to win, and also a fight we have no choice but to take. It¡¯s the worst type of trap imaginable, one you can see clearly but have to step into all the same. Which is another point in favour of this being Lutan¡¯s hand at work, he wants people to know they¡¯ve been beaten. That he¡¯s better than them.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll admit it fits.¡± Alice conceded. ¡°I¡¯ll confess my knowledge of surface politics is lacking.¡± Weaver stated, ¡°But why do we have to step into this trap? Can¡¯t we just tell this Vulcanus that they¡¯re about to be attacked and leave it there?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a nice thought,¡± Natalya sighed, the necromancer rubbing tiredly at her eyes, ¡°but I¡¯m afraid we can¡¯t. Vulcanus is currently hunting for us with everything it can spare. The only reason it¡¯s not raining pyromancers right now is that none of the organisations hunting us like to talk to each other but even that can¡¯t last.¡± ¡°Even if we told them they¡¯ll ignore it.¡± Amara added, ¡°I mean think about it, would you take us believe us right now? ¡®You really should stop hunting us because this group you¡¯ve never heard of is about to attack you.¡¯ I wouldn¡¯t take that seriously either.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t we just leave them to get attacked?¡± Weaver suggested, ¡°If they¡¯re hunting us that seems a good way to get them off our backs.¡± ¡°Would that we could,¡± Erebus shook his head, ¡°Doomsday prophecy remember? Vulcanus is one of Contenmere¡¯s heavyweights, if it goes down then that¡¯s a hole in our defences we won¡¯t be able to shore back up for centuries.¡± ¡°Checkmate then.¡± The arachni didn¡¯t sound enthused at the prospect. ¡°Merely check.¡± The necromancer assured her, ¡°Like Alice said, elementals can be killed, and there are few tools as good for it as a warshifter.¡± ¡°It will be as noble an end as I could have hoped.¡± Alice agreed, getting up slowly from the table. ¡°So what¡¯s our plan Ere?¡± ¡°We grab the location of the cult from the Vulcanus archives then ditch Valda, pick up what weapons we can then lead a full assault on their location.¡± Amara hissed out a breath, ¡°You¡¯re joking right? Please tell me there¡¯s more to the plan than that?¡± ¡°Well we do have one major advantage. Eight people attacking an established elemental cult¡­ there¡¯s no way in all the hells they¡¯ll be expecting us.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 27 - The Bard Unmasked & The Forest At War Lutan stared at the scrying orb with more relief than satisfaction. The Lord Protector of the Western Reaches was exhausted and just a little bit terrified. He knew he¡¯d overplayed his hand, and the spell backlash of revealing his presence and identity had given him the kind of headache most easily compared to continents grinding against each other while the resulting nosebleed has left him lightheaded from blood loss in the brief period he¡¯d been rendered unconscious. Collision course was a hard narrative to set up, to put two great entities against each other by little more than happenstance, and right at the end it had all nearly come apart. Creating the note had been the easy part, and he¡¯d done it days ago. The Lord Protector had had occasion to visit Vulcanus¡¯ archives and it was easy therefore to retroactively create a note that he could have plausibly left in his visit. It was a touch overt but nothing that stretched the boundaries of bardic magic. Getting that note to slip from its book and float on the breeze into the Melodious Duck however had been the arcane undertaking of a lifetime. He hadn¡¯t been sure he even could do it, and as it had come to rest on the table he¡¯d been hit by the backlash as the threads of narrative stretched and tore. That was one of the big secrets of bardic magic, it couldn¡¯t work when observed. Even if the victim knew there was a bard hunting them unless they could find the inconsistencies in events there was little they could do, but once spotted it all came tumbling down all at once. It was doubtful he¡¯d ever be able to affect the people in that room with bardic magic again. He¡¯d had no choice, Lutan assured himself, with Erebus about to flee Valda, leaving the Vulcanus archives behind, there would have been no way to get the Cult of the Ardent Wildfyre and his necromantic nemesis to come to blows. Of course the infuriating part was that he¡¯d done it to himself, his little tip off to the Council of Mages had been too effective. Rather than just telling him where Erebus lurked it had also told the Necropolis. Bad luck could happen even to bards. If he were to guess the First Response team that had found Erebus¡¯ comrades had had a necromancer on it, the Necropolis summoning their fallen son to report on his demise. Sometimes he forgot just how competent the enemy could be. Nonetheless he felt relief. He was so close now. So close to seeing both of his father¡¯s killers put in the grave. So close to being able to give up this double life. Not that he had much choice. By the door the vat of memories lay in shards. The same shockwave that had thrown him across the lab had made quite the mess. There would be no more dissembling anymore. No more lying to himself so he could evade truth spells in their many forms. He¡¯d have to put down the magic now, and good riddance to it. He couldn¡¯t remember when or how he¡¯d learned how to be a bard. At a guess those memories had been part of the evaporating blue slop currently coating his lab tiles. It had been a long time, he knew that much. The road had been a hard one. His double life had been made no easier by one half being unaware of the other and it had taken years through letters and couriers and promises made and kept to even earn his own trust. He¡¯d uncovered the small village Erebus had been wintering in then persuaded his better half to seek out a spellbreaker and a mercenary skilled enough to use it. He¡¯d commissioned the soul gem to trap Von Mori, or rather his oblivious other half had commissioned him to do it and he¡¯d subcontracted the work out. He¡¯d watched Erebus, in his guise as a paladin monk, grow close to the people of the village while he weaved his magic upon the world. One of the oldest tales in the world, the mentor dies at the end. And it had so very nearly worked. Erebus had survived his initial strike upon Valda by simply not being there at the time, out searching for ¨C and apparently finding ¨C Ente¡¯s Tear of the Sun. It shouldn¡¯t have mattered, his magic had had the necromancer ensnared entirely as his father¡¯s killer had saved Alec and dragged him through the forest. He¡¯d lied to Von Mori, then imprisoned the disbelieving dryad when he¡¯d been caught in that same lie. Then had come the confrontation outside Seruatis itself and he truly thought he¡¯d won. His dagger had literally been in the necromancer¡¯s heart, deflected unerringly by Lutan¡¯s magic. For a few brief hours he¡¯d been happy. Able to finally move on with his life until it had all come crashing down with the revelation of Erebus¡¯ survival. Even then it shouldn¡¯t have mattered. He¡¯d had contingencies in place in case Erebus made it to the safety of Seruatis and his carefully woven narrative still lay heavy upon the mage¡¯s shoulders. With the High Paladin¡¯s approval he¡¯d dispatched Janiah to take Erebus into custody as part of Gregor¡¯s scheme to bring the Immortals to heel. It had been hard not to laugh as he did so. For all that the High Paladin and Erebus were friends he didn¡¯t know the necromancer half as well as Lutan did. Erebus had never in his life seen a grenade he didn¡¯t want to leap upon. Again Lutan had been frustrated. Somehow the narrative he¡¯d cast upon the necromancer had been defeated. The mentor dies. It was about as reliable a spell as bards had. Worse the spell hadn¡¯t been broken. It had been fulfilled. Somehow Erebus had died while not having the decency to stay dead or even undead. If he was honest with himself he¡¯d despaired at that point. His efforts to kill the necromancer had been desultory at best, amounting to little more than keeping tabs on Erebus and waiting for an opportunity. It was the assassination attempt on Amara that had given him the idea for his next great scheme. The attempt had given him the final piece to a jigsaw he¡¯d been assembling for years, and even better had finally given Erebus a few pieces as well. Relief. It wasn¡¯t over but it would be soon. He had just one card left to play after this though he prayed he wouldn¡¯t have to use it. Hopefully the Wildfyre elemental would be enough to kill Erebus once and for all, then he could simply have the cult mopped up by conventional means. Otherwise¡­ he let his gaze fall upon the summoning circle in the corner of his lab. Otherwise it was time master and student were reunited. * ¡°Reform the lines! Nullspears to the front!¡± General Augustine bellowed, throat raw and voice beginning to rasp and fade. This should have been an easy battle. With five regiments under his command he¡¯d been expecting to simply roll over the small force of Forest Guard they¡¯d caught in the open as they¡¯d been withdrawing back to their fel forest from one of their many raids. The forest had been striking almost at random and it had been close to pure luck they¡¯d caught them on the march. With four thousand men under his command and the enemy numbering just a few hundred it had looked like an easy battle. Man for man the Forest Guard were far more dangerous than his own troops, but that shouldn¡¯t have mattered. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. The protocol for dealing with the foul undead that the forest had wrought was clear. Engage them at a distance with archers whilst null-clad knights held the lines against them. The magic destroying substance making it impossible for them to approach. The protocol hadn¡¯t accounted for the fact these were Von Mori¡¯s Forest Guard, possessed of the very same resistance to null as their terrible matron. One particularly ugly brute with a thorned crown and a cudgel for a hand had almost singlehandedly broken their lines. The monster had leaped upon the nearest knight, ignoring the dozen arrows feathering his chest as he¡¯d pinned them down and over a course of blows caved in both helmet and skull before looking for fresh prey. There hadn¡¯t been much of it available. The other misshapen fiends had followed his lead, dropping their spoils ¨C the corpses of the slain taken to be transformed into more of the foul creatures ¨C they had piled into the front lines. No order of battle, no strategy, just a mindless assault that was typical of monsters. But not of soldiers. That, in hindsight, should have been the moment unease had crawled up Augustine¡¯s spine. For all that Forest Guard were monsters, they were also men. They thought and fought and this berserk charge had none of the hallmarks of the mind that had already decimated village after village on the western border. Instead he¡¯d been relieved. Whilst the Forest Guard were reaping a bloody toll they were falling. His troops had been equipped for this battle and sure enough the nullspears were doing their job, pinning the monsters in place as the null piercing their flesh undid the enchantments keeping them in this world. He didn¡¯t even notice what was really happening at first. One man not even in the fighting stumbled and didn¡¯t get up. Then another. Augustine made a note to reprimand whichever company was managing to make a mess of walking over flat grass when he saw it. A translucent hand reached up from the ground, grabbed a man¡¯s ankle and the man fall dead to the floor. Now, far, far too late, the alarm bells began ringing in his head. Trying not to seem panicked he reached into his saddlebags, extracting a scrying orb tuned to his opposite number on the Council of Mages side of this war. It was hard to keep the damn things running when there was this much null on the battlefield, but he should have been getting more than the swirling purple mist that told him its partner had been smashed. Forget alarm bells, a full marching band was going by in his head now. Another orb, this one tuned to the Necropolis itself. A smiling Karatas appeared in it within seconds. ¡°Augustine! My dear fellow what can I do for you?¡± The ambassador said, wiping some sort of red sauce from his lips as he tried to make himself presentable. Around Augustine things were starting to devolve into panic. An entire company dropped down lifeless as a spectral hand passed through them all in a single pass. Men were looking to him for orders. He didn¡¯t give them any. There wasn¡¯t any point. ¡°I¡¯d consider it a personal favour if you¡¯d pass along a message to Lord Protector Lutan and the Council of Mages.¡± ¡°Of course. Of course. Scrying orb giving you trouble old man?¡± Karatas asked, the paladin squinting as he tried to get a better look at what was going on in the background. Augustine ignored it all. There was nothing he could do about it. ¡°Message is as follows. Von Mori forces are using wraith auxiliaries. Augurs and enchanted protections recommended as standard equipment in future engagements. A full exorcist force to be deployed to my location at best speed. I suspect Seruatis is supplementing their forces and that the Elder Wraith has taken the field. Message ends.¡± Karatas¡¯ face fell, the paladin closing his eyes for a few moments so that Augustine wouldn¡¯t have to see the pity in them. ¡°My dear fellow¡­ I¡¯m so sorry.¡± The general¡¯s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile, ¡°My kind regards to you and your good lady ambassador.¡± That said he let go of the scrying orb, letting it shatter on the ground. Best to deny it to the enemy afterall. Looking up he found himself alone. Well almost alone. A blue figure hovered in the air next to him. Wraiths were usually translucent to the point of transparent normally, this one however was almost opaque with power. The Elder Wraith stared down at him with something close to pity. She¡¯d been waiting for him to finish. Four thousand dead in under a minute. Once she¡¯d stopped waiting for him to notice it had been the work of moments to sweep through the army, glutting herself on the lifeforce of his men. Spectral claws passing through even null-plate to take the reaper¡¯s due. The ugly brute that had charged their lines stood next to her, full of contempt and rage as he sneered at Augustine. ¡°What are you waiting for? Kill him.¡± The narrow-eyed glare the wraith gave him for that comment was borderline gorgonic in its malice, ¡°I see no need. He is vanquished.¡± ¡°He is the enemy. The enemy is to be destroyed.¡± The Forest Guard countered, raising his cudgel to do the deed himself. The Elder Wraith didn¡¯t allow it, floating between them so the monster couldn¡¯t strike Augustine without touching her and killing himself in the process. ¡°I am your ally Valherion, not your subordinate. I aid you because I think your cause just. Don¡¯t do anything to dissuade me.¡± Piece said she turned to face Augustine, ¡°I will need your sword sir.¡± The general stared at her for a moment, incredulous at the idea of mercy from an undead. ¡°I take it I am being taken prisoner.¡± ¡°Perhaps. Or a retirement. There is no war within Seruatis¡¯ walls if you wish to join me there.¡± She gave him a warm smile. Augustine had never had cause to examine a wraith up close before but the bestiary had never mentioned that they might have dimples. ¡°No! I forbid it.¡± The Forest Guard declared. ¡°They slew the Lady in cold blood. A prisoner is one thing but to let him simply walk free¡­¡± ¡°The Protected Circle is sanctuary for everyone Captain, even for you if you should seek it, or else it is sanctuary for none. What say you general?¡± ¡°You slaughtered my men but you¡¯re sparing me?¡± Augustine choked out a laugh, ¡°Why?¡± ¡°A whim, little more. The captain¡¯s bloodthirst offends me, I wish to see him denied a chance to indulge in it.¡± ¡°And if I decline?¡± The general asked, hand going to the blade at his hip. He already knew the answer. ¡°Then I will plunge my hand into your chest and drink the vitae from you. It will be painless.¡± The Elder Wraith promised, inclining her head to him. ¡°But I warn you this, three nights hence the dead shall rise under my command, if you do not wish to raise your blade against your home then I advise you accept.¡± Augustine considered that. A force of thousands of wraiths was unheard of. Even during the Necromancer-Paladin wars wraiths had never been deployed. They were simply too dangerous. Anyone slain by a wraith rose as a wraith, under the control of their murderer. Given wraiths could kill at a single touch the possibility of a break in the chain of command leading to an uncontrolled wave of spectral undead sweeping across Contemnere had been so great that the Necropolis had been prepared to accept its own destruction rather than risk it. In fact the Wraith Vault beneath the Necropolis was the one place where even at the height of war paladins were permitted to visit freely, to help guard its grey gates. That¡¯s how feared wraiths were. Even the most insane of mages would house and feed their great enemy if they swore they were there to guard the Wraith Vault. ¡°You will be hunted over this. Seruatis will become a pariah to all if they take you back.¡± ¡°Seruatis is ever the pariah.¡± The Elder Wraith said evenly, ¡°Fortunately the one exception to our neutrality is if we are attacked.¡± ¡°We never attacked you!¡± The general protested, more outraged at the stupidity of the idea than the accusation itself. ¡°Oh but you did. In slaying Von Mori you slew one of Seruatis¡¯ guardians.¡± ¡°We really started this war?¡± He asked softly, eyes never leaving the pure cerulean orbs of his foe. She nodded once. ¡°And if I kill you the wraiths still rise?¡± He asked, half-drawing his blade. ¡°Indeed. And they rise unbound, able to act as they wish.¡± Augustine considered that then slowly he pushed his sword back into its scabbard. ¡°Then I would very much like to accept your offer.¡± * ¡°We really could use the manpower.¡± Captain Valherion complained as he watched another wraith blink out of existence under their progenitor¡¯s destructive touch. The Elder Wraith shook her head, absorbing another as she spoke, ¡°You certainly could. With these men you could win the war in a single night, rolling over the cities of the Paladin Protectorate in an unstoppable wave. Even the Necropolis would quake at the sight of such an army of the dead.¡± ¡°Then why won¡¯t you give it to us?¡± Valherion protested, or perhaps pleaded. She tried not to look annoyed, they¡¯d already had this conversation several times. ¡°I am many things Johannes Valherion but I am not immortal. I can be killed. Were I to fall in battle with a force like this under my command it would be the doom of Reath. Uncontrolled they would spread in all directions, devouring and spawning as they went. My answer remains no.¡± ¡°You let that general think you were going to do it.¡± He replied petulantly. ¡°Yes. I wished him to live.¡± She shrugged, continuing down the line of wraiths standing in single file waiting obediently to be consumed even as they regarded her with undiluted hate. ¡°Even just a few¡­¡± Johannes tried to wheedle. ¡°Will become many. And if even one is slain you have uncontrolled wraiths roaming the land. No and never.¡± She swore, and meant it. ¡°Then how are we to win this war?¡± The Forest Guard demanded. ¡°We don¡¯t have the numbers to defeat them in open battle, and likely never will.¡± ¡°That is for you to decide, but if I might offer some advice, think more about what victory looks like rather than how to get there before pondering how to get there.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 28 - The Cult of the Ardent Wildfyre The Cult of the Ardent Wildfyre, perhaps predictably, made its home in a blackened wasteland. The charcoal corpses of the forest made for good cover as they approached the fortress that the cult had carved out of the mountainous terrain. The small group managing to get within a couple hundred metres of the granite hewn bastion. Erebus¡¯ mournful gaze swept over the trees. The forest had been too small to have a great dryad, too out of the way to have a name. If it weren¡¯t for the elemental that had burst into existence amongst the flames its passing would have gone entirely unnoticed. They¡¯d waited for daybreak, destination side, before teleporting in. There¡¯d been some debate on that one, given they were going up against pyromancers there had been a question about using nightfall to take some of the pressure off of Amara but the vampire had been insistent she wanted the literal firepower that daylight would give her. The going was slow, wildfires did not typically get hot enough for rock to run and flow but with an elemental in the mix things had gotten to the point where stone didn¡¯t just melt but boil and black glass razors now littered the once-forest floor. That had created some small problems for the group, Alice had probably left her bodyweight in blood behind on the walk here, the warshifter adamantly refusing to wear shoes, claiming she hated the feeling of being confined. Holly on the other hand was currently being carried by Erebus. It was even less dignified than it sounded, the necromancer had her under one arm like a particularly uncooperative sack of flour, still the dryad had been glad of it. Anything to avoid having to stand on that ground and hear the dying screams of the forest that had been trapped in the briquettes that were all that remained of her fellow dryads. The fortress was a stark, roughly hewn and grey stoned affair, there had been no thought of artistry, and little thought to practicality beyond ¡®a place to live¡¯. That, in Erebus¡¯ experience, wasn¡¯t a good sign. The Cult of the Ardent Wildfyre had been around for close to three centuries, to have such bleak living conditions after that much time spoke to a terrible militancy combined with a total lack of concern for the cult members, every resource earned being funnelled to their elemental. In fire elementals it tended to be doubly bad, it spoke to an urgent need to consume everything in their path. Even wildfire elementals weren¡¯t necessarily malevolent, a forest fire could be a force of renewal as much as a force of destruction and there had been such elementals that were renowned for their skill with the healing arts, even more so than hearthfire elementals ¨C though given such arts involved being burned the wound had to be a desperate one indeed. This elemental, which the book they¡¯d grabbed said was called Charigris, clearly wasn¡¯t one of them. With a deep breath to brace himself for the battle to come Erebus ¡°Okay. Remember once the elemental is out in the open we hit it with everything, as long as we buy enough time for Alice to shapeshift this should be a fight we can¡¯t lose. Al, don¡¯t shift before the elemental reveals itself, hide if you have to, we don¡¯t want it running away. ¡°Holly, I¡¯m going to put you down now. Try and keep your senses on the ground, make sure we aren¡¯t being outflanked. Alec, if someone tries to close with us use one of Sato¡¯s vials, it¡¯s doesn¡¯t matter which one, they¡¯re all lethal. ¡°¡¯Mar, you¡¯ve got the cult leader, Nat, you thin their numbers. Lana, cover my back while I blast open the fortress. Weaver, targets of opportunity at your discretion. Any questions?¡± ¡°How many are we expecting?¡± Natalya asked, indicating the book Erebus had been leafing through. ¡°Official records say fifty mages, no stand out talents. Given they¡¯re on the verge of a coup I¡¯m going to guess the official record is bunkum.¡± Their leader said, unstrapping his battlestaff and putting his pack down where he stood and packing away his travel staff. His trusty travel staff, the ebony worn smooth from use, had been a near peerless tool. But that¡¯s what it was a tool. For all the obsidian skull topped wood could focus any spell imaginable, it made a poor weapon. Too generic, too geared towards utility. The staff he was now holding could never be anything but a weapon. Lady Yew¡¯s gift had undergone a few changes in the last few hours. Two slim bands of rune-scribed metal, gold and silver, had been pushed up to the top. Bound spells Erebus had called them. A single spell of great power that could be used just once. That wasn¡¯t what drew the eye. Where the branches had curled near the top they now were curled around a lavender orb. Almost nothing could withstand the touch of annihilation but Yew¡¯s staff, filled with the powers of life and undeath, was, for now, up to the task. ¡°Any other questions?¡± The necromancer asked as he began to channel mana into the staff, the lavender orb slowly growing luminous with green light. ¡°What about prisoners?¡± Weaver asked gently, even less at home on a battlefield than even Alec. ¡°If they surrender once Charigris is dead then we take prisoners. Until then it¡¯s a risk we simply can¡¯t afford.¡± ¡°How big are we expecting this elemental to be?¡± Natalya inquired, tone one of professional interest rather than concern or urgency. It was Amara who answered, ¡°A large fire elemental is the size of a human. There¡¯s records of ones as big as a small house but they don¡¯t last long where they struggle to burn enough fuel. The reason Qrilotesh is huge is she¡¯s a volcano elemental ¨C earth-aspected elementals tend to be big - so I¡¯d say no bigger than the third floor of that fortress where they¡¯ve been deliberately boosting it. There¡¯s probably a throne room or something in there where it makes its lair.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s so much smaller how can it hope to kill Qrilotesh?¡± Alec asked the vampire curiously. ¡°Qrilotesh is a volcano, one of the more constructive aspects of fire. This one¡¯s about as destructive as it gets. It might not be a match in raw energy but it¡¯s a lot better at using it to destroy.¡± The pyromancer explained. ¡°Is that everything?¡± Erebus inquired, hurrying things along. ¡°Good.¡± He stepped out from behind his tree to unleash a blast of green lightning, the spell bursting into a dozen tendrils of ruinous energy as it impacted upon the warded stone. Amped up by annihilation itself the entropy spell tore through the magical protections, collapsing the work of decades in but a moment then tore through the walls and outer gate for good measure. There was a moment of silence as they stared into the courtyard where the cult¡¯s battlemages were conducting their morning drills. The battlemages stared back, some of their jaws hanging limply in pure disbelief that something had just obliterated their home¡¯s defences in a single blow. There was a rumbling of stone and the section of outer wall collapsed entirely, the resultant rubble obscuring the pyromancers from view. ¡°Well that¡¯s less than ideal.¡± Nat noted as she stepped forwards to join Erebus, who was already charging his second strike. From atop the wall guards were taking aim, but from this sort of distance they could manage little more than fireballs, or in one advanced case a blast of lightning that redirected itself a few feet from either necromancer to ground harmlessly on Lana¡¯s armour. Erebus couldn¡¯t disagree with her, though a cynical part of him said they should have expected most of the cult to already be up and about. Plotters tended to be fairly fastidious and organised people. It certainly confirmed that the official records were a work of fiction of such quality that authors and playwrights for generations to come would weep at the sight of them. There had been more than fifty mages in that square alone. There wasn¡¯t time for those sorts of considerations, Erebus¡¯ second strike took down a second, even larger section of the wall. With the wards down the blast of entropic annihilation was able to carve through the rock with ease. It was a common error with warding. Not even an error really, by using the wards on the stone to create a single shield rather than a more piecemeal approach with each brick carrying its own separate enchantment, the resultant shield could hold up against spells that could turn an entire town into a smoking crater without being any the worse for wear. But they were awful against entropy spells, which wasn¡¯t an issue people tended to plan for. Almost no-one used entropomancy. Almost no-one¡¯s third strike took down the last of the outer wall and began lining up a shot on what was either a dormitory or an armoury given the stream of crimson robed mages pouring from it, only to unleash it into the sky instead as a white-hot ball of flame came crashing down towards them out of the sun. The spell hadn¡¯t actually come from the sun. From somewhere deep in the fort a siege class fireball had been cast and teleported into position to blindside them, potentially wiping them all out in a single blow. It very nearly succeeded, if it weren¡¯t for the crackle and roar of so much heat in one place roasting the very air no one would have known it was coming until the flames spread their ashes evenly over several miles. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. As it was Erebus¡¯ entropy spell disrupted the woven mana of the fireball, the glowing orb blinking out of existance in a moment as it struck, revealing the molten core of lava within it in time for what remained of the necromancer¡¯s spell to splatter the liquid rock all over them. It was Amara that saved them. Even Erebus couldn¡¯t put a shield up for all of them in the split second they had before the deadly fluid began searing its way into their bones but the pyromancer, with supernatural senses and superior reactions, was up to the task, drawing the heat out of rock so it fell as little more than gravel and small stones and then blasting that same heat back towards the fort to admittedly little effect. That, Erebus decided, was a lot closer than he was comfortable with. The sole good news was that there was no way they¡¯d stored enough power to fire whatever weapon that was more than a few times. Unless, a treacherous voice whispered, they were using Charigris to power it, in which case they could expect a strike like that every couple of minutes. Looking around he noted the position of his comrades, Natalya was stood besides him, waiting for battle to be properly joined to unleash her ghoul cascade, or some other horror of battlefield necromancy. Lana was just a step behind him, reading to bodyblock anything that was thrown at her, trusting to her armour to keep them both safe. Weaver was already missing, doubtless lying in wait somewhere inside the fortress, better off acting as the predator her form dictated rather than treating it as a fight. Amara was standing in the open, all but daring the pyromancer of the cult to target her, the vampire utterly confident in her mastery of flame over their own, and given how she¡¯d handled their magma cannon it seemed like a confidence well earned. That just left Alec and Holly, both still sheltered against one of the ruined trees as they waited to deal with whatever surprise assault the cult brought to bear. Alec already had a phial in each hand, just waiting for a target. He''d likely be waiting for some time. For all the destruction already done, battle had not really been joined yet. Nonetheless the sight caused a deep pain in his chest, he hadn¡¯t wanted or intended to turn Alec into a warrior, it had just happened. It was debatable whether he should even have brought the teens with him. They weren¡¯t useless, Alec had in just a few short months become a skilled enough swordsman that the Paladin Order would have likely knighted him on the spot. Admittedly more a testament to the quality of his teachers than any natural talent but the boy¡¯s tenacity certainly deserved some of the credit. Holly too was rapidly growing into a veritable terror of natural magic, if not a particularly ordered one, leaning heavily into her natural talents as a dryad rather than the structured spellwork of mages. Still they were little more than children and he¡¯d dragged them with him into a war. He wanted to blame that damn prophecy, he wanted to blame the cultists upon whom he was now venting his considerable spleen. Both had certainly done a lot to limit his options, of course neither were the real reason. It all came down to agency in the end. As much as he wished it was still the case, Alec wasn¡¯t some na?ve kid, he¡¯d seen some of the worst this world had to offer. He¡¯d suffered. He¡¯d been ripped from his home. He¡¯d nearly died. And that was nothing compared to the trials Holly had been through. Directly placing null stone on a magical creature was the kind of order most torturers would have refused outright for being too cruel. Lutan had never employed torturers, if there was something foul to be done he would do it himself. It was somewhat tragic that this counted as a virtue. The point was they weren¡¯t unaware of the danger they were throwing themselves into. If they wanted to fight then he¡¯d have been little more than a tyrant to deny them. That was the problem with power, get enough of it and it was hard not to be a tyrant. ¡°Behind us!¡± Alec shouted, the urgent yell snapping Erebus from his introspection. Perhaps he should have been continuing to lay waste to the fortress but even with the orb it was a taxing spell and he wanted to save his strength. Specifically he¡¯d wanted to save his strength for the second magma cannon that had just placed its shot behind them. This time he didn¡¯t put half so much power into the green bolt that tore the fireball apart, careful not to splatter the lava as he hit it with a teleport of his own. There were mercifully short screams as the ball of superheated rock crashed down in the cult¡¯s courtyard. Erebus nodded in satisfaction. There was no way that had been the same cannon as last time, way, way too soon and the shot itself had been informative. What they should have done was fired the two shots simultaneously. It was very unlikely they¡¯d have stopped both of them when caught unawares. Which told him two things: they¡¯d never had to use the cannons in anger before and that they¡¯d been drilled to fight a large army ¨C a full Council combined arms response for example ¨C where the continuous barrage would have been the right tactic. Some things remained constant. No army was ever prepared to be attacked by a handful of people. It just wasn¡¯t the kind of thing people trained for. Sure there¡¯d be a handful of elites who¡¯s sole job was to take out any supernatural heavyweight, but the rank and file just weren¡¯t ready for it. Speaking of elites¡­ five pyromancers descended from the sky, using the kinetic force of their flames to slow their descent. Erebus glanced at Amara, who shook her head. Fine then, it looked like this fight was his. ¡°Lana, my back please. I don¡¯t want to be fielding potshots when the rest of them get their act together.¡± He ordered, stepping forwards to greet his fellow magi in the traditional manner. Which was to hit each of them with a bolt of lightning, actual lightning, not the much slower entropic kind, from his warstaff. Their shields all held. Bubble shields he noted, kept a couple feet away from the body. Classic pyromancer defences where the residual heat from spells could diffuse and air fry an opponent without the spell ever breaching the shield. They stared back at him. Four in crimson robes and one in a vermillion suit of armour. Again classic tactics, the mages would keep him locked down while the spellblade would close the gap, able to wade through his comrades¡¯ fire and bring the excessively large maul he was carrying down on Erebus¡¯ shield. Even money there was some kind of shield breaker on the flanges of the oversized weapon. A faint trickle of unease rolled down his spine. While he hadn¡¯t put his all into those strikes their shields had barely even rippled and he¡¯d put very good money that the shields were being powered by artifacts to free up the mages¡¯ concentration. This fight was going to be tricky. The important thing was not to look like he was enjoying himself. * This fight, Natalya mused, was far too easy. The big problem the enemy was having was one of space. In the few minutes since Erebus had begun his assault the Cult of the Argent Wildfyre had managed to get its act together. Everyone was awake, armed and angry but that mattered very little when, apart from the magma cannons, no one was able to bring any of the anger to bear upon them. The fortress had been designed to be defensible, a single elevated narrow path to the gates, forcing anyone trying to get in to traverse a dirt road barely wide enough for a wagon to breach the defences. Doubtless the road was mined as well, the mines activatable by an artifact within its buttressed walls. With the fortress literally built into the mountain there were no other avenues of attack that wouldn¡¯t involve moving thousands of tonnes of rock, though to Natalya¡¯s mind that in itself was a weakness. There were enemies that determined; a force of geomancers could likely bore their way in in a matter of days. It was an exceptionally good defence, and Erebus had turned it against the defenders in just a couple of blasts of the green lightning the necromancer favoured. With the walls fallen and no battlements to man they¡¯d lost their ability to rain down fire on their attackers with impunity, trusting to their wards. A few were laying prone in the rubble but most of the thin streams of fire were missing them entirely. With their battlestaves so close to their faces in the more cramped conditions the fire was blinding them. Which wasn¡¯t to say that all the flames were missing, they weren¡¯t, but it was far from the overwhelming heat that should have burst shields even as it turned the rock beneath Nat¡¯s feet to lava. And the flames weren¡¯t lasting long, to project the spell hundreds of metres was already a feat in itself, to maintain it for any length of time a near impossibility. Amara could have done it but even Erebus would have gone for a different option rather than waste the energy, but these were pyromancers, and everything looked like a nail. She could already feel the ambient mana in the air dropping like a stone. The smarter ones were forming up by what had been the gatehouse, combining their shields together so they could weather the storm of spellwork they expected to fall upon them the moment they braved the path. They were right of course but it was still irritating to see. While famed duellists like Amara and living legends like Erebus might delight in skilled opponents, Natalya detested them. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the youngest living archmage grinning like a maniac as he dodged, ducked and weaved away from an enchanted maul that was heavier than he was, all the while managing to get in strikes upon the four battlemages who hadn¡¯t let up their streams of cerulean fire for even a moment. Infuriating. With a shake of her head she dismissed Erebus from her mind, focusing on her own task. Harvesting the chaff. What she wanted to do was pop a shield and hit one of them with the ghoul cascade that had been so terribly effectively against the Avalonian arach. There was nothing better for sowing confusion, discord and despair than having ones allies turn upon each other. After that the hardest part would be making sure she killed all the ghouls once the battle was done. Something she hadn¡¯t done in Avalon; Erebus wasn¡¯t the only one who held a great antipathy towards the Sidhe. Alas the opposition was competent so she instead settled for reanimating those that had died when the battlements fells. Zombies were noone¡¯s first choice of undead. They were slow, they were clumsy, they stank and they had no great magical powers. What they also were was easy and quick to make, even from a distance, and, above all else, durable. And that durability translated into a terrible strength. There was a terrified scream as a hand burst through the rabble to grab one of the valiant defenders by the throat though Natalya was too far away to hear as the scream became a gurgle as the woman¡¯s neck was crushed beneath undead fingers. She wasn¡¯t too far away to sense the death though, and seconds later, the pyromancer too began to move once more. The group on the bridge hesitated, the enemy now behind them as well as ahead. Again competence reared its ugly head as a sonorous and sorcerous voice rang out, ¡°Press on. If we dally here they¡¯ll pick us apart. In the name of Charigris, kill these necromancers. Let their foul magics be cleansed by the fires of our Lord.¡± Sometimes Natalya forgot that even amongst mages necromancy was not seen as a universal good. The speaker was almost certainly the Cult¡¯s Speaker. And by the sight of him he was also a Chosen, and his elemental was way, way too strong for him. He wore no robe, presumably because no cloth could have withstood the heat of his flesh which looked like it had run like molten wax, the few parts of it that were not blackened and crisp, ash falling from him whenever he moved. Where his skin had split from the heat orange light glowed and roiled. For Charigris to abuse their own Speaker so¡­ it spoke volumes of the creature¡¯s priorities, and of the man¡¯s foolishness, to devote himself to a being that held so little love for him. As Natalya focused on the man, there was a feral hiss behind her as Amara uttered a single word. ¡°Mine.¡± What happened next was too fast for her to see as anything other a blur, the mages around the speaker fell down as nothing more than ash, and a dark shape surged forwards to hit the Speaker, carrying them both into the courtyard with such an impact that she could hear it even from there. There was nothing pleasant about Natalya¡¯s smile as she focused on the remaining mages, their shield broken and their leader missing. This battle really was all too easy. Oathkeeper - Chapter 29 - The Speaker of Charigris Amara hissed out a breath of pain as she impacted against the courtyard¡¯s inner walls, or rather the Speaker¡¯s shield. She¡¯d hit him so hard and so fast that she¡¯d overwhelmed his kinetic defences. On a lesser mage the shield would have popped and she¡¯d be brushing gibblets off her robe, instead the shield had simply moved with him. As the dust cleared she saw they were almost alone in the courtyard, those few mages still there taking one look at the two pyromancers about to throw down and simply running for their lives. It was a good call. While a lot of time and effort had gone into a so-called ¡®friendly fire¡¯ spell that only hurt the intended target, none had ever been found. The Speaker wasn¡¯t even winded, sneering down at her as he floated slowly back to the ground, ¡°The Daywalker. It was a fell day for Vulcanus when they allowed one of the night¡¯s misbegotten get amongst their ranks.¡± ¡°I¡¯d threaten to feed you your entrails but you¡¯re all hollowed out.¡± Amara observed, fingers of her remaining hand twitching in anticipation. The other hand was nothing more than dust on the scorched forest floor, consumed in the spell that had turned a dozen pyromancers to drifting ash. ¡°How long until your precious Charigris discards you for a new vessel? A week? A day? By the looks of you I¡¯m not even sure you¡¯ve got hours.¡± ¡°It matters not. Our Lord shall endure, as he always has, if a new vessel would serve him better then it gladdens me.¡± His smile was genuine, if somewhat creepy where part of his mouth had flaked away. ¡°He¡¯s not going to get the chance.¡± The vampire assured him, slowly circling him with a predatory confidence she certainly wasn¡¯t feeling. She¡¯d never, not in life or undeath, not travelling nor on the duelling grounds, come across anyone this powerful. His every breath put fresh mana in the air and it rolled off him like body heat, possibly even as body heat. His very presence was heating the air to somewhere past boiling point. Amara had seen elementals that didn¡¯t have that much raw strength. No wonder he was falling apart, Charigris had given him a truly absurd amount of power. And the terrible truth was she had no idea how to fight him. Even with her mana devouring flames¡­ that was a lot of mana to eat through, and she wasn¡¯t sure she had anything else that even could hurt him. Normal magical fire, if there was such a thing, would be little more than oxygen to a flame. Raw heat the same. And for all her superior strength and speed, she¡¯d likely achieve little more than burning her hands¡­ well hand anyway. In hindsight this had been a terrible plan. The Speaker made the first move, a ball of blue fire forming between his hands before he clapped them together. The fireball detonated, the shockwave throwing Amara from her feet and rattling the remaining walls of the courtyard. She landed in a crouch, and it was fortunate she did for the Speaker nearly ended her in the time it took her to leap once, bounding for a wall and bouncing off of it, the Speaker¡¯s flame following her the whole while. People often forgot that fire had a kinetic component where it expanded the air rapidly. The Speaker certainly hadn¡¯t forgotten and the second detonation just about ruined her hearing is it battered her against the bricks. She wasn¡¯t going to win this fighting like a vampire. Amara rolled away from the spear of flames sent to impale her, rising unsteadily to her feet, hand raised in a warding gesture barely in time to catch a second spear on her shield. ¡°Is this all there is to you?¡± The Speaker asked, scornful as any jilted lover as he prepared to crush her with an unending conflagration. His intent to just pour flames upon her now she¡¯d stopped running until her shield buckled and she cooked alive. ¡°I expected more.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get it.¡± She promised through gritted teeth, then flung her own fire at him as he unleashed his final blow. His fire was searingly bright, practically an assault in itself, and she had to look away and even then she could see it through the back of her skull as it rushed at her at the speed of a diving falcon. Her own fire was simply orange and moved lethargically by comparison. A single candle against a sun but two flames met and her fire won, the mana eating fire racing up his own spell, devouring it and burning it for fuel. Faster and brighter than any fire she had ever cast herself. For just a moment she saw the alarm in his eyes as his own spell came back at him before he cut his fire off, stepping out of the way for it splash against the wall, the fire chewing through it with a roar like a giant clearing their throat to yell. Amara didn¡¯t let up the pressure, redirecting her fire to chase after him even as she stepped forwards to close the distance. The Speaker¡¯s glare contained nothing less than hate, finally taking her seriously now. With a snarl he raised both hands, more of that impossibly hot fire pouring from his fingers like water from a waterfall, his strength deep as an ocean. This time it was Amara¡¯s turn to be surprised as her fire met his, and it stopped hers dead, feeding on her spell even as hers fed upon his. ¡°Did you really think you were the only one who knew that little trick?¡± Her foe sneered, his more powerful flames starting to eat their way up her spell. In truth she had but if there was anyone else who might have access to how to make a fire consume another person¡¯s mana and magicka it would have been a wildfire elemental. Wildfire elementals consumed everything. That knowledge didn¡¯t help her here. He¡¯d simply been ready for every weapon in her arsenal, and now, as the fire got steadily closer it sunk in to Amara that she was going to die. But if she was going to die then it was going to be on her terms. Vampiric flesh when set alight burned hotter than the surface of the sun. A skilled pyromancer could easily amplify that heat tenfold. Amara was both. It was what let her, at the cost of her own flesh, burn through just about anything, as the pile of ash on the bridge testified to. She couldn¡¯t kill the Speaker or Charigris with mere heat or flame. But the other cultists? The fortress? Their armoury and siege weapons? The top of the mountain itself? She wondered how much of it would be left if she simply ignited herself in her entirety¡­ Not very much she imagined. Something of her thoughts must have been betrayed in her eyes because the Speaker¡¯s flames now absolutely raced towards her as she prepared to turn the Cult of the Argent Wildfyre into little more than a crater. With just Charigris and the Speaker left she had every faith her friends could finish the job. Perhaps she should have had more faith in them? A quiet voice in her ear whispered, ¡°Down.¡± On reflex she dropped to the floor and the stream of fire passed over her, missing her by several feet. It was a closer miss than it sounded, with those sorts of heat she was still getting mild burns. When she didn¡¯t die a second later from the Speaker adjusting his aim, she looked up. The grotesque figure was covered in perfectly black threads, particularly on his arms which were being pulled up by every ounce of strength in Weaver of New Tales¡¯ body as the arachni wove another loop of shadow thread and tossed it around his neck, trying to choke him out. It was never going to work, Amara doubted he even still had lungs with which to breath, kept alive solely by Charigris¡¯ will, but she appreciated the effort. The Speaker¡¯s eyes burned, literally burned, with outrage, the empty sockets leaking a slurry of offwhite juice that was rapidly boiling away. There was a ripple across him as the mana devouring fire rolled over his own body, Weaver¡¯s threads burning up in moments. The arachni didn¡¯t seem too fussed, not even as he turned that same flame upon her, simply stepping back into the shadow of a wall and vanishing as her voice whispered to Amara. ¡°You don¡¯t kill a fire with heat. You starve it or you smother it. You starve¡­ I¡¯ll smother.¡± The vampire¡¯s grin had far too much fang in it as she faced down the Speaker. She might be overpowered but the arachni had reminded her that she wasn¡¯t outclassed, and as for the Speaker? He was outnumbered. * Erebus was getting a little bit tired of being outnumbered. It had been fun at first but just a minute into the fight, after he¡¯d redirected a magma cannon shot centred on Nat¡¯s position without so much as dropping a step, he¡¯d found himself more than a little bit bored with it. Yew¡¯s staff was holding up incredibly well against the enchanted maul. It turned out that the heartwood of an elder dryad was almost indescribably durable and there were dents in some of the flanges of the maul head that testified to that fact. The problem was that whilst he could hold off the pyromancers¡¯ flames until the sun exploded, and possibly a little while after that, he had no way to actually kill them. Or rather he had no way to put together a spell of that magnitude without dropping his shield. Even the orb of annihilation was useless. Annihilation did not play well other magics, even a hint of it would have resulted in him becoming, at minimum, medium rare. The vermilion knight was also depressingly competent if unimaginative, keeping up the attack safe in the assurance that Erebus couldn¡¯t hit him hard enough to hurt him or put together a spell. The necromancer was using a skin tight shield, something of a risk but he didn¡¯t want to chance the maul getting a glancing blow and it was impossible to live in the Hells for any length of time without being able to control one¡¯s body temperature so he wasn¡¯t as at risk of being roasted by the air as his compatriots. He needed something to break this stalemate but he had no idea what to use. Part of him wondered if he should have given this fight to Amara, the vampire would have been perfect for it. Her flames overpowering the other pyromancers and more than fast enough to take the knight to pieces but it had been much more important to put her against the Speaker, her mana-devouring flames doubtless making short work of him. What he needed was something the shields wouldn¡¯t register as an attack. The problem was that he had to get it right the first time or he¡¯d get flambeed where he stood. Fire was very obviously out and he¡¯d already tested lightning. Air blades were just kinetic force by another name, same with most of the quick and dirty geomancy spells. Entropomancy would certainly crack the shields but it was unlikely to get through to the mages behind them. In other words certain death. Simple raw kinetic force was, not to put too fine a point on it, exhausting. He could probably rend two of them, shields and all, but four was beyond him without putting vitae into it, and he had precious little life left to give. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. But perhaps force was exactly the right answer. Of the four fundamental forces that bound the physical universe together two, the somewhat boringly named strong nuclear force and weak nuclear force, were simply inaccessible by any magic he knew. Not even his vaunted master had known how to bring them to bear in combat. Electromagnetism had half a dozen arts that touched on one aspect of it, ferromancy, magnetomancy, galvamancy, even pyromancy was technically an expression of it. There was no unforeseen avenue of attack there. Which just left gravity. Humble, stalwart gravity. Gravitomancy had never had much of a following on Reath, the gods had, wisely, made sure of that. There were ways to manipulate it still, but they amounted to artificially increasing either the mass of the subject or of the gravitational field affecting it. Both hideously inefficient methods of achieving what could be done by the average kinetomancer. Nonetheless gravitomancy did have a seat on the Council of Mages and would likely find their strength waxing in the near future for one simple reason. One of the aetheric chains affecting gravity was broken. ¡°Pondus.¡± There was a sickening crunch as all five of the Argent Wildfyre¡¯s elites collapsed. That wasn¡¯t to say they fell to the floor. Bones cracked, spines popped and joints folded in directions never intended as for a brief moment mere mortal flesh was subjected to the kind of gravity usually found on the surface of large stars. Blood sprayed in all directions, and one spurt caught Erebus in the chest hard enough to leave him gasping. That had been from the knight, with the armour containing most of him inside, his visor had practically been turned into a high pressure hose as most of the liquid in his body was ejected at speed. Erebus had seen gorier sights but not many, and he found himself fervently grateful that his robe was waterproof. It had been terrifyingly easy. And when Erebus thought that he meant it, he¡¯d scared himself with how easy that had been. Once news got out that it was now possible to alter the gravitational constant, the intrinsic number that determined how much mass translated into a given amount of force, it would be carnage on a scale he could scarcely imagine. Silently he resolved never to cast that spell again. If word got out that for little more mana than needed to boil a kettle it was possible to turn a master mage into little more than a smear on the ground¡­ he failed to suppress a shudder. He prayed the gods would find the strength to make a new chain to constrain gravity. ¡®Of course we will. We¡¯re not idiots.¡¯ Pheus¡¯s sneering voice echoed in his mind for just a moment. Erebus sighed, choosing to pray instead that the god of dreams would go fornicate with a cactus. Unsurprisingly that prayer went unanswered. His own foes defeated, the unacknowledged archmage took a moment to take in the state of the battlefield. Lana was simply missing. Presumably she¡¯d been keeping fire off of him for most of the fight but he couldn¡¯t swear to it. As much as he remembered the demoness fondly from his torture training in the hells, he had to admit her mind was a mystery to him. Certainly there weren¡¯t any stray fireballs now. The mages on the bridge were almost all dead and the few that weren¡¯t were desperately trying to hold at bay their ghoulish comrades who were tearing into their former friends with a near-atavistic joy. If there were any cultists still alive in the rubble they were showing uncommon amounts of common sense by pretending to be dead. Sadly that would prove a poor deterrent to a hungry zombie. Going by the incredible streams of fire and the occasional explosion in the courtyard, all that remained of significant threat was the Speaker. Once he fell they could take their time carving open the fortress, carefully disarming any traps or failsafes, then drag Charigris into the light of day so that Alice could crush him underfoot. A brief search showed that Alice, Holly and Alec were still roughly where he¡¯d left them, the trio sheltering against one of the ruined trees. Holly sensed him first, looking up to meet his eyes and give him a shake of her head. No flankers. Good for them but almost disappointing. If he¡¯d been in charge of the fortress he¡¯d have set up a mirror network to get troops surreptitiously out to flank any foe. Though then again if they¡¯d been expecting an attack mirror-side that would explain the lack. Now he thought about it he¡¯d bet his soul that there wasn¡¯t a single mirror or shadow in the entire fortress, and the chances of someone stumbling upon wherever Avalon overlapped with them was vanishingly small. But still he¡¯d have at least gone for tunnels. Some people simply lacked imagination. Alec also turned to watch him, Sato¡¯s phials, filled with whatever mysterious and unlabelled concoction the precognizant had selected, remained unthrown. That was for the best really. Having made sure those in his charge were safe and secure he headed for the bridge. It was time to finish this. * Now she had a little help, Amara was finding the fight far easier. Weaver was proving an able ally, always striking from odd angles as she wove darkness again and again around Charigris¡¯ Speaker and, whilst the elemental empowered pyromancer always burned the stifling threads, it was certainly annoying him. Especially as it allowed Amara to get some free hits in, her fire burning away a small, fraction of the magicka animating the barely alive Chosen each time. That might have made it sound like it was just a matter of whittling away at the incandescent mage until his body tore itself apart in a conflagration of flesh and magic but it wasn¡¯t quite that easy. The Speaker kept drawing mana out of the air to refuel himself and though he wasn¡¯t replenishing himself fully it meant the fight was dragging out a lot longer than was comfortable. It was simple mathematics. They had to get it right every single time. To avoid, neutralize or redirect every single far-too-powerful spell he sent. He only needed to land one once. And where most of the cult had been good with fire, he was downright masterful. That shockwave of his was particularly frustrating. It was simply too fast to properly prepare for, the kind of practiced motion that he¡¯d clearly done thousands if not tens of thousands of time. The hands would open for just a moment to form a fireball, then compress it and detonate it in the span of a second. Followed almost immediately by a torrent of fire in one of several flavours, be it a superheated blue, mana-devouring blue (a point that annoyed Amara more than she¡¯d like to admit ¨C it rankled that his version of her favourite trick burned hotter) or in a couple cases a literal plasma. He hadn¡¯t pulled that trick more than twice, the superheated and highly ionized matter did not like being forced in a single direction and had taken enough out of him that the glowing cracks in his flesh had dimmed for a moment. Both times had nearly been the death of Amara. There was no holding a shield against that kind of insane heat and just being close to it would have been enough to turn her into little more than a shadow on a wall. Nonetheless very slowly they were winning and she could see the dawning realization in his gaze as he got steadily more desperate and his tactics more varied. Random pockets of superheated air were forming all around them, and while they would be a sincere threat to her they¡¯d be a death sentence for Weaver, his true target. Frankly the entire area was starting to heat up. Part of it was simply the side-effect of so much pyromancy being used but there was a more purposeful aspect to it. Mana was no longer rolling off the Speaker like bodyheat, now it simply was heat. No mana to speak of. There was a dull thump behind her as Weaver fell out of her shadows, too hot to function outside them the arachni feebly crawled back in. Beneath her the ground glowed cherry red as their foe redirected some of the heat to her location. ¡°And back to just you and me it seems.¡± He bellowed, having to yell just to be heard over the growing stifling of the air. ¡°A formidable ally. I¡¯ve never had the pleasure of killing an arachni before but they certainly merit their reputation. But now to finish this. You were as serious a threat as I¡¯ve fought, but a dangerous ant is still at the end of the day an ant and¡­¡± The Speaker paused, looking confused where a rather polite hand was tapping his shoulder to get his attention. ¡°I don¡¯t take kindly to people threatening my wards.¡± Lana informed him curtly, before driving her thorned blade deep into his gut, twisting it slowly. ¡°Please desist.¡± There was no retort from her foe, simply staring at her in empty-eyed disbelief, the flames in his sockets dulling and dying, because nothing should be able to stand that close to him without so much as a mana barrier. Lana pulled the blade free and slowly he dropped to his knees, clutching at his stomach as lava slowly oozed out of the wound, blackening swiftly into stone to clot the cut. ¡°I advise you stand back child.¡± The demon of pride told Amara, ¡°This is butcher¡¯s work I¡¯m afraid, too much magic to live yet not enough sense to just die in this one. It will take a while.¡± That said she planted her blade in his chest again, and again. A steady, near monotonous stabbing motion as she waited for him to simply use up the elemental power sustaining him. ¡°How can you be that close to him?¡± Amara demanded, her own disbelief almost as great as the Speaker¡¯s ¡°I¡¯m a pyromancer and I can barely stand over here right now.¡± ¡°I was born a succubus my dear, we are born of fire and chaos.¡± Lana explained, still stabbing, there weren¡¯t the wet sounds of flesh against steel but a crunching as if she were driving the blade through rock. ¡°Reath¡¯s mages are terribly unworldly. If you wish to truly understand fire you should take a tour of the Hells. Hellfire can burn us. Your mana-eating flames would certainly prove a trial. But mere heat? Never.¡± ¡°Okay, next question. Why the Hells was I the one given the Speaker to fight when you¡¯re outright fireproof?!¡± The vampire demanded, a touch irate, and just a little giddy on the joy of not being dead. ¡°Oh that¡¯s simple. My ward is an idiot¡­ or at least slow to change how he thinks. You he knows as a master duelist and the person who taught him fire magic. He still sees me as a librarian and occasional torturer.¡± She shrugged slowly, ¡°It¡¯s made being his bodyguard more than a trifle difficult I must- Oh.¡± The stabbing stopped, the Speaker¡¯s hands wrapped around the blade as he held it off with what strength he had left. ¡°I am not some mageling you can just ignore. I am the Chosen of Charigris, Speaker of Wildfire and you will-¡° Lana covered his mouth with one hand whilst wrapping his entire head in a silencing charm, ¡°No. You¡¯re little more than an unexploded bomb. Now either explode or shut up while I kill you. Some people, no manners whatsoever. Where were we dear?¡± ¡°You called me your ward?¡± The vampire suggested tentatively. ¡°Ah yes. I¡¯ve been having a bit of a rethink since events in the Underreath. Erebus and I came to blows over his tendency to risk his life and it occurred to me that he will never accept me looming over his shoulder until the day he dies, so I must go about this differently. More proactively.¡± She explained, whilst carefully breaking the Speaker¡¯s fingers so he¡¯d let go of her sword. So far he was proving to have quite the grip, most people would have let go by the third finger. ¡°How does one proactively bodyguard?¡± Amara asked, genuinely curious and beginning to relax a little. ¡°Traditionally by eliminating threats to one¡¯s charge before they have a chance to threaten, but Erebus¡¯ case requires a different approach I think. I¡¯ve chosen instead to protect the people he is liable to throw himself into deadly situations over. Had you died he likely would have attempted to duel the wretch himself. Exhausted as he is there is certainly a chance he would fail. Ah, speak of the mortal and he shall appear¡­¡± Amara followed her gaze to see that Natalya and Erebus were indeed approaching them, the two weren¡¯t as relaxed as they were, still scouting for potential threats in case any of the cultists that yet lurked got an acute and fatal case of bravery. Erebus stared at the rather slow execution, taking it in before shaking his head to clear whatever he was thinking from his mind, ¡°Any problems?¡± He asked. He certainly didn¡¯t look exhausted. He looked murderous, his gaze drifting down to the Speaker again with something for which contempt seemed too small a word. Something about the charred ruin of flesh repulsed him, and Amara suspected it wasn¡¯t his appearance. Necromancers regularly dealt with rotting bodies, a little roasted flesh shouldn¡¯t be enough to turn a stomach. ¡°Plenty of problems.¡± Amara admitted, ¡°But we handled them.¡± Not that she was entirely sure that ¡®we¡¯ was accurate, she certainly didn¡¯t feel like she deserved credit for this. ¡°The vampire and arachni discharged themselves commendably.¡± Lana declared, ¡°This miserable flesh heap expended much power in the battle and was sufficiently distracted by the vampire¡¯s magics for me to come to blows with him.¡± It was a technically accurate reading of the battle, or perhaps, Amara realized, she was being too harsh on herself. Egos (the technical term for a pride demon) couldn¡¯t lie, so Lana it seemed had been genuinely impressed by the battle. Erebus sighed, still staring down at the Speaker as if he were so disgusting he¡¯d rather burn his shoes than scrape him off them. ¡°I wish I could say I enjoyed this bit. All the plotting, the murder, the ambition, and it all ends here and now. But the sad truth is that you¡¯ve already done so much damage we¡¯ll struggle to heal it in a lifetime¡­ but we will heal it. Soon you and the master you serve will be less than a distant memory, unmourned and unmissed. I want you to know that.¡± ¡°Careful Ere¡¯ you¡¯re dangerously close to monologuing.¡± Natalya chided gently, stifling a laugh as she did so. ¡°I am aren¡¯t I? Very well.¡± He pressed the orb of annihilation against the Speaker¡¯s chest, and while Charigris¡¯ Chosen might have been able to heal from a plethora of stab-wounds, he couldn¡¯t contend with having his flesh and mana turned into pure light. There was a silent scream from with the muffling charm and then the Speaker went limp, front little more than a hollowed out ruin. Rather predictably the corpse exploded, but all three of them had been ready for it, the sudden heat washing harmlessly over them. Partly because it simply wasn¡¯t interested in them, the elemental energy surging into what remained of the now deep red glow of the fortress as it returned to its owner. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we threw around that much heat¡­¡± Amara said tentatively, not liking the way the glow was getting brighter as they watched. ¡°We didn¡¯t.¡± Erebus assured her, stepping forwards, a spell already changing on the top of his warstaff. ¡°It seems Charigris isn¡¯t going to wait for us to come to him.¡± ¡°Well we just killed his cult, his Speaker, and destroyed all his wards without him raising a finger. My guess is that he isn¡¯t much of a fighter. This should be easy.¡± The vampire noted The fortress, and much of the mountainside, burst with all the flair and debris of a pumpkin dropped from a great height as Charigris rose from it, and rose, and rose. Their worst case prediction had had the elemental at no more than ten metres at the largest. The real thing could put another zero on that number. Slowly Erebus turned to face his pyromancy teacher, ¡°You just had to say it didn¡¯t you?¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 30 - Her Final Battle ¡°What do we do?¡± Amara asked very quietly, eyes never leaving the horror of Charigris. For all that the elemental lacked flesh, they were the very definition of a nightmare made flesh. Elementals grew with power, and the monster before them, while a little bit smaller than Qrilotesh, had certainly been on the way to parity. And it was easy to see how, hundreds of pleading eyes, some of flame, some of ice, a few of stone and a smattering of other elements, focused on the mages. A hundred voices spoke in an incoherent cacophony of pleas. ¡°I think we found what happened to all those missing elementals.¡± Erebus said slowly, licking suddenly dry lips. ¡°They¡¯re still conscious in there¡­¡± Lana added, even the jaded demoness managed to sound horrified. ¡°But what do we do?!¡± The vampire hissed, trying to both yell and whisper at once. The necromancer didn¡¯t respond, not yet, his gaze roving up Charigris¡¯ form, whether looking for a weakness or simply too stunned by the sight, only he knew. Chargris¡¯ body was humanoid, a sharp diversion of the records which had described it as a shapeless blob as was typical of wildfire elementals. It turned out sometimes you really were what you ate. All those mages-turned-elemental had moulded his body as much as empowered him. But the crown atop Charigris¡¯ head? That was all him. With the voice of a blast furnace, the King of the Ashes spoke a single word. The only word he had ever spoken in his long life. ¡°BURN!¡± They should have died in that moment, blasted apart by just the wave of air the words provoked, let alone the heat that followed. Erebus had apparently been waiting for it, because the necromancer stepped forwards, planting his staff on the ground as he cast one of the two great bound spells he¡¯d put upon it. ¡°Absolute aegis.¡± The words were calm, measured and utterly implacable. They had to be for the spell to work. The silver ring on the staff evaporated as a shield sprung up around the four mages. A blue hexagrammatic dome, each of the hexagrams absolutely festooned with runes of protection, endurance, regeneration, temperature control, dimensional lockdown, radiation abatement and a dozen other threats as Erebus put all the mana he could into the casting for good measure. The shockwave hit them, washing over the shield as a wave breaking upon a harbour, and to about as little effect. ¡°I thought we were in trouble for a second there.¡± Natalya admitted, letting out a breath she hadn¡¯t realized she¡¯d been holding. Erebus didn¡¯t respond. Still staring silently at Charigris. The elemental stared back, a smug and satisfied smile on its face as it reached for the dome. Fingers the size of a wagon closed around Erebus¡¯ aegis. His perfected shield. And squeezed. For a few moments it looked like the dome of cerulean power would hold, but cracks began to spread slowly across it. The necromancer didn¡¯t even flinch as runes were splintered into uselessness. Because as they splintered they pulled free of the shield, hovering inside it as the runes of regeneration kicked in. The cracks slowly healed and the shattered runes returned to the shield, even more of them now as each broken part became a new whole glyph. There was a howl of pain and Charigris let get of the dome as it glowed ever brighter as the elemental stared at his faded fingers where his energy had been drained. Erebus permitted himself a smirk, still watching in silent judgement as the next best thing to a god failed to put so much as a smudge on his best shield. ¡°It¡¯s entirely self-sustaining.¡± Natalya observed with a whistle, just finished reading the runes. ¡°The only way Charigris is getting through to us is if he can make the entire shield fail at once. How long have you been working on this?¡± ¡°Three decades, on and off.¡± The necromancer finally spoke. ¡°It can be broken. Charigris will figure it out soon I fear.¡± The elemental was certainly trying a new tactic, unleashing a bellow¡¯s breath assault, the infamous assault of a forge elemental. The forge elemental in question was screaming in agony as a focused beam of fire burst from Charigris¡¯ mouth. If the aegis hadn¡¯t had muffling charms they¡¯d have been rendered deaf just by the roar of the flames. It was a far more focused attack than simply trying to squeeze and sear, though from a monster of Charigris¡¯ size it still covered an entire side of the dome. The blow caved the aegis in slightly, then more as the beam kept trying to cut through it. Again the aegis, unbidden by its master, reacted. Runes of siphoning moving to meet the attack, and though they glowed a brilliant blue almost as bright as the beam, they held, using the magical fire to empower the shield against the very flame itself. Inch by agonizing inch the aegis returned to its perfect dome shape. ¡°Now he¡¯s going to start getting clever.¡± Erebus concluded. ¡°You seem remarkably calm about this.¡± Natalya noted, ¡°You¡¯ve got another play.¡± ¡°Not me. All I¡¯m doing is buying time.¡± The archmage smiled, terribly smug as he watched his foe. Charigris¡¯ next attack was to clap his hands, the dome between them. It was a little more involved than that, the absorbed elementals had been moved to his hands, ice in one, fire in the other, as he forced the shield to react to two different magical strikes at once. He might as well not have bothered, the aegis cracked a bit from the initial impact but the siphoning runes and elemental specific defences moved through the dome to sap and reinforce. The second greatest elemental on Reath screamed his rage, totally unprepared for being denied. He was destruction incarnate and the very idea that anything could hold against his wrath offended him. One of the siphoning runes burst as the sudden surge in strength proved too much for it. It didn¡¯t reform, the damage simply too catastrophic. ¡°And that¡¯s game.¡± Erebus sighed, ¡°Still let¡¯s not make it easy for him. ¡®Mar, if you would be so kind as to try and incinerate my shield I would be obliged.¡± ¡°Um¡­ sure?¡± The vampire just doing as she was told. Sure the command made absolutely no sense but this fight was far beyond her capabilities. Her flames struck the shield and were absorbed by it, not stopping or even siphoning the energy but spreading it even over the shield as Charigris recoiled as if stung. ¡°If we survive this you¡¯re teaching me that.¡± Natalya told Erebus sharply, trying to spot what in the runework filigree was treating Amara¡¯s fire as an empowerment rather than a threat. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I will.¡± Their leader agreed as Charigris slowly smiled, moving to grasp the dome in both hands once more. The monster put all his immense strength behind it, the aegis a ball of delicate glass beneath a hydraulic press. The aegis still held, but this time the spiderwebbing cracks weren¡¯t being pushed back, slowly advancing as the siphoning runes burst one by one, overloaded with more mana than they could ever hope to drain. Charigris didn¡¯t get it all his own way, Erebus fired a burst of entropy, backed by annihilation, into his shield, which drank the inimical energy greedily. The elemental screamed in pain but didn¡¯t let go this time. For all that it was as grievous a blow as he¡¯d ever known it was still little more than a bee sting and he¡¯d been prepared to get stung this time. ¡°BURN.¡± He declared, or perhaps ordered, then took in a deep breath. This time multiple forge elementals wailed as the bellow¡¯s breath screamed through the air at them. For the final time the shield held. Its surface was nothing but spiderwebbing cracks, the runes all broken beyond repair. Erebus sunk to his knees as the aegis defaulted to its final defence, its creator¡¯s will. Held together by just willpower, the shield shook and Erebus shook with it, fighting with everything he had. Every scrap of defiance, every ounce of tenacity and every drop of spite as he very slowly, knees trembling, rose to his feet to glare at Charigris. ¡°Let me guess.¡± The necromancer snarled as the elemental took another massive breath in. ¡°Burn?¡± Charigris let out the breath. Not in an apocalyptic beam of fire and hate but in shocked pain as a monster larger than Seruatis¡¯ great monolith hit him in the stomach in a flying leap. Alice was even harder to look at than Charigris. The warshifter barely came up to the elemental¡¯s thigh, and it was already the largest warshift she¡¯d ever done, and was still growing. Her bodyplan could never exist on any product of evolution. Thick bone plates covered every inch of her except her eyes which were protected by about a dozen nictating eyelids, each made of the closest thing biology could make to quartz. She had a dozen insectoid legs, the sharp points digging deep into the rock, resembling nothing so much as the product of an insane coupling between an elephant and an antlion. Her tusks were immense, Alice barely even able to keep her head up from their weight despite her neck being thicker than any oak that had ever rested beneath Reath¡¯s sun. Her two front legs were reptilian, adamantine scales cover everything except the viciously serrated claws, each larger than a greatsword, at the end of them. And riding her back was Weaver, the arachni had webbed herself in place on Alice¡¯s back, her normally bright carapace completely black where she¡¯d coated herself in shadows to fend off the heat, and over her abdomen was Sato¡¯s bandoleer. Charigris stared in disbelief at the insects that had dared attack it, the elemental genuinely befuddled. Mortals were not meant to attack it, they were meant to flee or die. Alice rose up on her hind legs, baleful eyes glaring at him. She¡¯d borrowed them from the gorgons, it had been a long shot but Alice was a firm believer that you missed every shot you didn¡¯t take. Sadly the elemental did not turn to stone, the warshifter instantly swapping them for something with a little more visual acuity as she growled, ¡°Yeah that¡¯s right ugly, not used to fighting someone your own size are you?¡± It was a bit laughable, and Charagris certainly did, Alice even stood to her full height just about reached his waist¡­ for now. He stopped laughing as the warshifter raked her claws across his thigh, ripping out thick gobbets of not-flesh even as Weaver began to throw Sato¡¯s arsenal at him in a veritable bombardment, the spider¡¯s thread wrapping around the bottles, flicking them around her head a couple times to build up speed before launching them. Most of the bottles did nothing, their effects too small for Charigris to even notice them, and those that did, did little more than sting. Alice¡¯s frenzied assault on the other hand certainly got his attention, the elemental didn¡¯t bother to use fire. He just drew back his foot and kicked. Over a hundred tonnes of warshifter was sent flying across the landscape, Weaver shadowwalking away before she could land. It was a good thing too as Alice left a series of furrows where she bounced and rolled to a stop, claws and legs digging into the ground to do so. ¡°We needed to buy more time.¡± Erebus sighed as Weaver appeared next to him. ¡°That was a terrible plan.¡± The arachni said cheerily, already getting to work on her next attack, beginning to weave an incredibly thick and long rope of darkness, apparently intent on repeating the restraints that had worked so well on the Speaker. ¡°Everyone, I need you to run.¡± Erebus declared, going so far as to dispel Weaver¡¯s work. ¡°Get the Hells out of here¡­ Now!¡± ¡°Can¡¯t we-?¡± Amara began. ¡°I said now! Go. Flee. Amara grab Alec and Holly. Get them out of here! We cannot win this!¡± The necromancer bellowed as Charigris advanced on Alice, the warshifter backing away from him. This time they listened. They wouldn¡¯t get away of course, mere mortal legs could never hope to match Charigris¡¯ titanic strides. Which was why Erebus stayed behind, Lana at his side. Natalya looked back once, crestfallen as she realized that her friend was resolved to die for them. For a moment she considered staying as well, but she¡¯d faced facts in the Underreath, some fights she simply wasn¡¯t strong enough to even assist with. There wasn¡¯t a single spell she could do without pouring her life and soul into it that Charigris would even notice, let alone hurt him. Staying would just cheapen Erebus¡¯ sacrifice, so she ran, and did not look back again. ¡°You should go too.¡± The archmage of entropy told Lana quietly. ¡°Unless your armour of sin can protect you?¡± ¡°If I had a helmet it would.¡± Lana said with a shrug, ¡°But for all it cannot harm me with flame, my head is quite crushable.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t normally criticise the Lady but I fear in this she made a mistake, was there not time enough for a helm?¡± The necromancer said conversationally, wincing as Charigris grabbed Alice and simply pulled one of her clawed arms off at the shoulder, the warshifter admittedly using it to pull free in the process to open a quickly healed gash on his arm. ¡°She wanted you to have a way to kill me if I proved disloyal.¡± The demoness replied merrily. ¡°Then go. I don¡¯t win this one Lana, there¡¯s no point you dying with me.¡± He informed her. ¡°No. You could have killed that thing.¡± She tapped the orb of annihilation on his staff, ¡°Yet you haven¡¯t. You think there¡¯s something you can do.¡± ¡°The one thing she¡¯d never forgive me for. Trusting others.¡± Erebus smiled, ¡°She said I¡¯d need three aces. I can kill Charigris with just one. That means we win this battle. Besides someone needs to bear witness.¡± * The fight was not going well for Alice. Charigris¡¯ body was so hot that any engagement scorched her, burning through the thick bone plates she was insulating herself with. She¡¯d stopped putting pain receptors on anything that wasn¡¯t immediately vital. She was less bulky than she¡¯d started the fight, the elemental¡¯s growing habit of ripping off limbs had forced her to slim down, going quadrupedal as she bounced in and out, slicing with her claws then withdrawing. Her claws had changed too, it turned out elementals did not in fact bleed and so she¡¯d ditched the serrations, the claws getting long and sharper. The extra range was vital to staying ahead of the titanic monster¡¯s rather clumsy movements and they melted every time she slashed him. Her only saving grace was that Charigris was a terrible fighter, just genuinely awful. It wasn¡¯t surprising. Before today nothing had ever survived a single blow from it. The problem was the elemental was learning and learning fast. It no longer kicked her away, or threw her, recognising its superior size would let it just tear parts of her off if it could grab her. Fortunately it hadn¡¯t realized it could just crush her instead. ¡°BURN!¡± ¡°We get it, you like burning things.¡± Alice grumbled, leaping away from another clumsy lunge, a newly formed tail flicked bone spikes the size of lampposts into his face. Charigris more or less ignored it, Alice ditching the tail immediately as she sought out some combination of limbs that might give her some sort of advantage. The problem was she couldn¡¯t bulk up and keep her current speed, and if she slowed down then Charigris would kill her. It really was that simple. But she couldn¡¯t match him blow for blow until she matched him tonne for tonne. For now she slid between his legs, cutting what would have been the hamstrings on a human. It did nothing. Elementals were essentially homogenous, it didn¡¯t matter where she hit, all it did was cost him a little bit of mana. Out of desperation she tried venom. There were very few creatures that could damage magic with their bite, but one of them was the basilisk. A few modifications to let her spit it instead of inject with a bite and she hit Charigris with a high power hose of magic necrotizing basilisk venom as he turned to face her. For the first time Charigris¡¯ scream was one of genuine agony as he received his first true wound of the fight, fiery not-flesh melting under the spray. It wasn¡¯t a massive wound, just a very thin line of bubbling, oozing black across his chest. But this time the wound stayed. Alice backed up, keeping the spray up and if anything intensifying it, having to sacrifice biomass to do so. But she wasn¡¯t able to back up fast enough to escape Charigris¡¯ charge, the sudden, urgent rage giving the elemental enough speed to close the gap and grab her by the throat, squeezing the sizzling flesh with all of his strength. It didn¡¯t stop the caustic spray of venom. The glands were in her mouth, not her throat. Still this presented a real problem, the warshifter adding more and larger glands until the inside of her mouth was little more than a toothless and tongueless venom factory and delivery system. Some of the venom spilled, burning her, but most of it hit Charigris. It wasn¡¯t going to be enough. With a victorious roar of ¡°BURN!¡± he took her head between his hands and squeezed until there was a grisly pop, letting Alice¡¯s body fall limply to the floor. Oathkeeper - Chapter 31 - The King of the Ashes Triumphantly Charigris turned to where the mages had been huddled, the only true threat to him lying broken at his feet. Only Erebus and Lana remained, but the sheer hate in the necromancer¡¯s stare made Charigris revise his threat assessment. ¡°That.¡± The archmage informed him coldly, voice echoing off the mountains, ¡°Was a mistake.¡± The bright burst of lurid green entropomancy carved a furrow in the elemental¡¯s chest, criss-crossing the wound Alice had left. Erebus practically glowed as he drew in the mana the elemental had, so very unwisely, put into the air by its very presence, a second ray of purest disorder drilled a hole into Charigris¡¯ shoulder. For all that he had pierced the best part of a metre with that strike the wound was still a shallow one, the would-be King of the Ashes was simply that immense. With another bestial declaration of ¡°BURN!¡± Charigris threw a fireball at him. Admittedly a fireball the size of a house but still just a fireball, and Erebus¡¯ thin lance of entropy easily unravelled it before it even left his hand, blowing away one of his fingers. Erebus had never seen anyone look quite so confused, though he would concede the sheer size of Charigris¡¯ face lent a magnifying glass to his confounded expression. As Alice had noted the elemental was a genuinely awful fighter, he simply had no idea what to do when confronted by anyone who could fight back. But as Alice had also noted, he learned fast. First he focused on his maimed hand, a hearth elemental wailing in agony as he called upon its power to make himself whole once more. Charigris healing not just the hand but the wounds on his chest that Erebus had bestowed him, though it did little for the venomous gouges that Alice had left. Erebus scowled, hitting him with another blast of entropy as he backed away, mostly for spite rather than effect. He might not be able to harm the elemental but he certainly could hurt it. Though perhaps he could harm it. The necromancer¡¯s gaze settled on the hearth elemental that had screamed, the poor creature meeting his gaze, hope shining brightly in its eyes. Not a hope born of any expectation he could actually put it out of its misery but just desperation, naked and terrible in its sincerity. Normally teleporting the semi-substantial body of an elemental would be a monumental challenge, but Charigris¡¯ very presence was putting mana enough into the air to make it almost easy, especially as, callous it was, the target didn¡¯t need to survive for this to be effective. Wordlessly Erebus cast his spell, the hearth elemental vanishing from its spot on Charigris arm. The necromancer didn¡¯t know if it had survived or not, and likely never would, having sent it far far away to ensure the mammoth form of Charigris didn¡¯t simply reabsorb it. The great wildfire roared his refrain in outrage, raising a hand as it tried to send a volley of frozen spikes raining down on Erebus¡¯ position only to stare dumbly as the blizzard elemental also disappeared, the scream of pain letting Erebus target it almost instantly. ¡°Borrowed power isn¡¯t power.¡± Erebus informed him, a teacher to a particular dumb pupil. Magic empowering his voice so that it was almost an attack in its own right. Even as he spoke he stole an iceberg elemental, depositing it somewhere deep in Aegis Borealis. It was perhaps a touch hypocritical given the mana he was using for the spells was coming from Charigris, but the Council of Mages had always taken the position that mana belonged to everyone, and Erebus was, at least in this moment, inclined to agree with them. The colossal monster stepped forwards, closing the distance to bring his hands down in a double fisted smash. Erebus might have been able to stop most of his magical attacks but there really was nothing the mage could do to prevent Charigris simply hitting him. Of course that didn¡¯t mean he would just stand there and take the blow, if there was mana enough in the air to teleport an elemental then there was mana enough for him and Lana too, and though site to site teleportation was usually a terrible risk, the heat of Charigris had long killed any bugs that might have been in the air. Appearing several hundred metres from where he¡¯d been standing, though still face to face with his foe, Erebus managed to teleport out close to a dozen elementals of various flavours before Charigris could close the distance for another strike. Both of them could see the shape of the fight now. For all that hundreds of elementals yet remained entombed in the wildfire elemental¡¯s body it was just a matter of time until the necromancer whittled that number down to zero. Charigris didn¡¯t bother with a physical blow this time, nor with any of his medley of borrowed powers, just flame, endless, impossible flame pouring off his body in all directions. The very essence of wildfire, undirected, hungry and savage. There would be no teleporting away from this, not without fleeing the fight entirely. While there was more than enough mana in the air to leave, there was no guarantee there would be enough to get back. Lana laughed as she stepped between Erebus and the wave of fire, unleashing her own assault, the hellfire burning away fire itself, leaving them both unscathed. She stopped laughing as Charigris'' punch, hidden by the bright flames, caught her and sent her flying. She would survive and return, but given the blow was sending her towards the horizon it was unlikely she¡¯d return before the fight was over. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Erebus stared him down, ¡°You¡¯re going to lose you know? Qrilotesh has slain hundreds of challengers, and I mean slain, not stitched onto herself like the world¡¯s creepiest patchwork quilt. You can barely even control your own power.¡± Charigris¡¯ eyes narrowed as he forced himself to speak, the words making the ground shake, ¡°I will make a new cult. I will grow stronger. I will crush the volcano queen. I will rule the ashes of this world.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t though. The gig is up, everyone will know what you did here. You will be hunted down and slaughtered like a rabid animal.¡± The elemental gave this some thought. ¡°I will kill the hunters. I will seek out their places of power, their safe places. I will burn them. Burn their forests. Burn their farms.¡± Erebus shook his head, unable to keep the chuckle from his voice, ¡°You can¡¯t even kill me little Charigris. Do you honestly think I am the worst thing that they¡¯ll send for you? I¡¯m not. They¡¯ll send immortals, they¡¯ll send a lich choir, they¡¯ll send dragons. If you think you know fire then you have never felt dragonfire. Hellfire might be laced with chaos. Amara¡¯s flames with hunger. Dragonfire uses annihilation.¡± Again Charigris pondered, Erebus letting him have the time to think. ¡°I will entomb the immortals in molten rock. I will burn the liches. I shall learn the secrets of dragonfire and devour them.¡± ¡°Very creative.¡± The necromancer mocked, ¡°Truly you are one of the great thinkers of the age.¡± ¡°You are stalling little mage. Too proud to flee. You are going to die here. Now BURN!¡± Erebus shrugged his shoulders, staring at a spot behind the elemental as Charigris prepared another omnidirectional torrent of wildfire that would finally scour the archmage from the face of Reath. ¡°Well you¡¯re half right there. I was stalling. A smarter person might have questioned why.¡± The elemental ignored his words, but stopped as something cast a shadow over him. With the terrible slowness of one who knows what they¡¯re going to see but has to look anyway, Charigris turned to stare up at Alice. ¡°Did I say we were done?¡± The warshifter snarled. Her punch lifted Charigris off his feet, sending him toppling to the floor from which a quick thinking Erebus managed to teleport away from. The warshifter, now a full head taller than the elemental grinned viciously. Her current body was quadrupedal, the elephantine legs attached to a massive torso. She¡¯d gone with the torso so she could make best use of her new claws, the tips of each one dripping with basilisk venom, but they were just the distraction. Hovering over each shoulder was a tail, each tipped with a stinger that had far more in common with a lance, if a lance had ever been made long enough spitroast a whale. Charigris leapt to his feet, breathing in deeply for another bellow¡¯s breath. Erebus managed to teleport out a couple of the elementals, but the King of the Ashes was calling upon all of them this time. It didn¡¯t matter, Alice was no longer the plucky underdog. Outmassed and outreached. One of her arms reached out, morphing into a long and muscley tentacle that wrapped around Charigris throat and redirect his breath high up into the air. She¡¯d probably just put a hole in Reath¡¯s ozone layer but the two of them were, for now, fine. The tentacle squeezed tighter, the suckers developing razor sharp edges, of course coated in basilisk venom. Charigris howled, burning hotter and brighter until the tentacle fell away as flecks of ash, a tattoo of cuts across his throat. With a hateful glare at Erebus the elemental retreated, boiling the flesh of another tentacular assault as he did so. The trapped elementals inside him gave a final scream, their faces vanishing from his flesh as he absorbed them once and for all. Erebus could not rescue what did not exist, and though he could no longer call upon the dozens of different powers his prisoners had bestowed him, the necromancer could no longer teleport chunks of his body out of him either, reduced to just a bystander once more beyond blasts of entropy that Charagris amounted to little more than pinpricks. The wildfire elemental let loose with fire in all directions. He knew he¡¯d never outduel Alice in close quarters, his own hope now was to simply raise the temperature so far that the warshifter was incinerated by the very air, the infuriating mage alongside her. He never got the chance. Alice charged him, there was a flash of stinger and the flames stopped. Charigris stared down in disbelief at the two stings buried deep in his chest, visibly pumping venom into him. They weren¡¯t melting. ¡°You have no idea how hard it is to create ceramics in a liver.¡± Alice informed him curtly. Charigris kept staring, venom beginning to bubble out of his chest as it ate through him. ¡°I feel¡­ cold.¡± The elemental said slowly, collapsing to his knees. The crown of flames flickered out, the rest of him fading fast. ¡°All I wanted to do was burn things¡­?¡± As last words went both of them had certainly heard worse, the King of the Ashes fading into the late morning air. Erebus regarded the immense form of his friend, ¡°You okay Al?¡± ¡°It was a good fight.¡± She said simply, sitting down with some difficulty. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯s any chance you can just stay like that?¡± He suggested, patting a leg larger than the Necropolis tower he¡¯d grown up in. Alice laughed, the sound rolling like thunder cross the landscape, ¡°Not a prayer. This is a pure warform. No stomach. No kidneys. No spleen. No¡­ honestly it would be quicker to name the organs it does have. Lungs, hearts, brains, liver. That¡¯s it. And about a dozen adrenal glands.¡± Slowly she began to shrink. ¡°It¡¯s okay Ere. Everyone knows the hero dies at the end right?¡± She let out a weak laugh. ¡°Yeah.¡± He agreed. Tears weren¡¯t falling yet, but it was a matter of when, not if. ¡°Why is it never my turn?¡± ¡°It will be. One day.¡± She promised him, finally down to a human size. The body she¡¯d worn in Arcadia, her true body, well mostly. It wasn¡¯t right. For one there was no hair, and her tongue was forked. One of her eyes was simply missing and scales covered half of her face. ¡°Now hush, this is meant to be my pity party, not yours.¡± Her old friend snorted out a laugh, ¡°How long do you think you have?¡± ¡°Oh¡­ a couple of minutes at a guess. I¡¯ve never shifted like that before. I¡¯m not sure anyone has.¡± She put her arm around his shoulders, ¡°I want you to know¡­ it¡¯s been fun.¡± ¡°It has, indeed, been fun.¡± He agreed, unable to hold back the tears anymore. ¡°Don¡¯t fight it ya big softie, no one else is going to see and I won¡¯t tell a soul. Cross my heart and hope to die.¡± They didn¡¯t say any more for a while after that. Just staring down the mountain at the ruined landscape in front of them. ¡°Hell of a view.¡± Erebus said finally, turning his head to smile at his friend. Alice didn¡¯t respond, she¡¯d already left. With an exhausted sigh Erebus lay her down and closed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll see you again, beyond the Veil.¡± He promised her, then slowly forced himself to his feet to go find his friends. Oathkeeper - Chapter 32 - Imperator Erebus didn¡¯t have to look far to find them. It had been almost impossible to miss the climactic battle between Alice and Charigris and they¡¯d all been on the way back to find the survivors. The last to arrive was Lana, even with her speed second only to Amara, Charigris had with a single blow sent her so far it was almost an hour before she turned up, out of breath and looking about ready to tear the throat out of the first person dumb enough to point it out. ¡°Do we bury her?¡± Alec finally asked, staring at Alice¡¯s fallen form, finally asking the question that had been weighing upon him from the moment he¡¯d been brought here. In death the warshifter, perhaps, by her own admission, the greatest Reath had ever known, looked peaceful. It was a terrible clich¨¦ but she truly did, and it wasn¡¯t where Erebus had closed her eyes. It was the soft smile that graced her lips. It was not an expression that she ever would have worn in life. There was no fire to it, none of the burning passion and lust for life, just quiet and ultimately satisfied with a life not just well lived but lived on her own terms until her dying day. ¡°No. She wouldn¡¯t have cared if we buried it, burned it or turned it into leather.¡± Natalya told him gently, ¡°Wherever she is now, I promise you she isn¡¯t sparing her body so much as an idle thought¡­ she was almost a necromancer in that regard.¡± ¡°We¡¯re leaving her here.¡± Erebus informed him. Not elaborating further on the matter. ¡°We really should start considering our next move, by now the people down that mountain will have sent messages out to the Council. Do we scarper?¡± ¡°We¡¯re still fugitives.¡± Amara pointed out, ¡°Just because we¡¯ve gotten the assassins off of my back doesn¡¯t do anything for the assassins after yours.¡± ¡°Problem is what¡¯s our course of action?¡± Natalya countered, ¡°We¡¯re low on leads. The only threads still dangling are whatever artificer Lutan hired to trap Lady Von Mori and the destruction of Triple A.¡± ¡°Seruatis¡¯ archmages had a few other places they wanted me to check out?¡± Their leader suggested. It had been rather a lot of places in truth, the list long enough he doubted he¡¯d get to all of them in a lifetime, but that had been the point, to clean up and prepare Reath as best possible for what would come in his absence. ¡°We¡¯re running out of people.¡± Natalya stated, cutting down that idea as fast as she could. ¡°I¡¯m happy to help you with whatever nonsense they gave you but I am tired of doing it on the run with no time to prepare.¡± ¡°What if we accused your Lutan of being a bard?¡± Lana offered, ¡°Turnabout is fair play, and your accusation even has the benefit of being true.¡± ¡°It would just look like an attempt to get out of trouble. Sour grapes and no more.¡± Amara shook her head sadly, ¡°As much as it¡¯s an idea I would love to try.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a serious enough accusation they¡¯d have to at least look.¡± Erebus mused, stroking his chin as he did so, ¡°They might even find something¡­ but it wouldn¡¯t help us from inside our cells.¡± ¡°We could just stay here?¡± Weaver said slowly, the arachni pulling her legs in a little under the weight of several amused stares, ¡°I know I¡¯m the new girl, and not so used to these life or death kerfuffles as you guys but¡­ we just saved the world right?¡± ¡°More just a major magical institution.¡± Erebus corrected gently, ¡°But go on.¡± ¡°My point is that we¡¯re heroes. We just saved a load of lives, potentially the world too if you count what happened back home. So why not just¡­ act like heroes? Stick around and take the credit. It¡¯s a terrible look to be congratulating someone while throwing them into a cell.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Natalya mulled the idea over, similar sentiments coming from the group¡¯s more experienced plotters, ¡°I like it. There¡¯s potential for backfire certainly but I really do think it could work.¡± ¡°It would be very easy to just have us killed.¡± Lana stated, not enthused by the idea at all. ¡°But they won¡¯t. The Council like to think they¡¯re the good guys, and frankly they¡¯re in need of successes.¡± Nat pushed back, ¡°They don¡¯t do the whole ¡®mysterious accident¡¯ gig unless it¡¯s absolutely unavoidable. I should know, I¡¯m one of the people who they get to do it when they do have to.¡± ¡°There are still charges against Erebus, and probably most of us by now.¡± Amara noted, ¡°You really think they¡¯ll just brush those under the rug? Like you said, they think they¡¯re the good ones.¡± ¡°Oh there will be a trial, but the charges against Erebus are baseless, and if he¡¯s being vaunted as a hero then there¡¯s no way they¡¯d hand him over to the Protectorate.¡± Natalya explained eagerly, really starting to get enthused by the idea. ¡°And the rest of us¡­?¡± Lana asked, starting to really consider it. ¡°Acting in support of an unjustly accused man. A slap on the wrist at worst. You they won¡¯t touch, no one wants to peeve an imperator. Alec and Holly are just kids, no offence, so they¡¯ll just get shunted into one of the academies. Qrilotesh has Amara¡¯s back. I¡¯ve got favours to cash in¡­ and Weaver hasn¡¯t actually done anything that can be charged.¡± ¡°So we just wait for the Council to turn up?¡± Erebus deciding to put it to a vote. Surprisingly agreement was unanimous. * It was a rather tense wait. Erebus and Natalya, the experts in these matters, had predicted it would take Second Response another hour at most to turn up. Second Response because there was no way they¡¯d send First Response to a report of a fortress sized elemental on the rampage, and even Second Response would likely be just doing a threat assessment so it could be kicked up the ladder to one of the immortals or one of the supernatural superheavyweights. They hadn¡¯t elaborated on what the Council of Mages might consider a match for Charigris, and Alec hadn¡¯t been entirely sure he wanted to know. He also wasn¡¯t going to find out. There was no warning. No hint of danger. He had been eating one of Agh¡¯zak¡¯s preprepared meals (a wonderfully creamy curry over what he believed to be a mix of beef, pulses and peppers) when the demon simply appeared amongst them. She was a thin, grey-skinned waif. Her demonic horns little more than nubs. She was a commanding and buxom matron, her horns towering towards the sky. She was a winged beast with a dozen amethyst eyes. She was little more than a mass of writhing tentacles. She was a berserker, soaked in so much blood it had stained her soul more than it had stained her skin. She was a clinical tactician, staring dispassionately as she sent yet another piece to be plucked from the board. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. She was all this at once and a thousand other things. To look at her was to be driven near madness as one¡¯s eyes argued with each other as to what they were seeing. That wasn¡¯t the scary part for Alec. The scary part was that he, who even when given remedial lessons had not been able to sense so much as a wisp of mana, could feel her power. It washed over him like a tidal wave. It was a pressure on his eardrum so heavy he thought they might burst. A heat on his skin such that he might roast. A wind that threatened to flay the skin from him. It was, in short, terrifying. For those who¡¯s esoteric senses were more practiced it was worse still. The aetheric chains twisted, twined and writhed around the demoness, binding her bit by bit. Reath had been designed from the outset to handle threats like this and though they¡¯d never faced a challenge on this scale they were up to the task, cutting down her domain bit by bit until it was able to extend no further than her skin. Binding her to a single form at a time and restricting a multitude of other powers the gods had simply deemed too dangerous to ever be allowed loose on their great life raft. Almost as one being the mages scrambled for their weapons. They wouldn¡¯t do them any good if it came to blows, it was more of a comfort thing. Erebus and Lana hadn¡¯t reached for anything, both dropping smoothly to a single knee, heads bowed in quiet supplication. ¡°Master.¡± ¡°My Lady.¡± The two intoned respectively. That at least put a pause on their fellows before they could unwisely cast their lives into oblivion, spells dying in their hands. The demoness stroked Erebus¡¯ cheek, talons raising beads of blood from his skin, the necromancer not even wincing and even leaning in to the surprisingly tender touch. ¡°I had long wondered how you would address me next we met. Very well. It is good to see you again my apprentice. Please rise.¡± That said she turned to address Lana, ¡°And you Lana, you have done great service under what I can only imagine were very trying conditions. You have my thanks.¡± ¡°Will you be staying long master?¡± Erebus asked softly, still there was an edge to the question. For what was supposed to be a joyous reunion the necromancer''s hackles were up. ¡°Forever I think.¡± She replied lightly, ¡°Your nemesis¡¯ catspaw was a skilled warlock but his ambition far outweighed his talent. Not unlike a young necromancer I recall.¡± ¡°And this warlock is¡­?¡± Natalya asked, finally working up the courage to speak to the imperator. ¡°Very dead. I have no need of a second apprentice.¡± She explained, smiling in fond reminiscence as she did so. ¡°Now I suppose we should speak of the future, before the little godlings finally work up the courage to attack me. I will have need of a right hand once I rule Reath, the role is yours if you desire it apprentice.¡± ¡°You had no desire to rule when I summoned you.¡± Erebus observed, slowly reaching for his warstaff at his feet. ¡°The state of the board has changed.¡± The imperator explained, ¡°Oblivion¡¯s name is returned to it. It is a person once more.¡± ¡°Oh Martyr preserve us.¡± Her student groaned, ¡°Did I-? I¡¯m so sorry.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be. My fellows might be rather upset over the change, I am not. People are fallible.¡± ¡°Is there something we can call you?¡± Weaver asked suddenly, the arachni surprising even herself with her temerity, ¡°It feels a little rude just referring to you as ¡®the imperator¡¯ in my head.¡± ¡°Of course little curse-child. A fragment of my name will suffice, call me Tsa¡¯rahlitzek.¡± She replied easily enough, seemingly pleased at being addressed by her student¡¯s companions. ¡°I always went with Sarah.¡± Erebus chimed in. His teacher¡¯s glare managed to open a cut on his forehead. ¡°Your insouciance remains intact.¡± She observed, ¡°This time around I will fix that.¡± ¡°So um¡­ excuse me Tsa¡¯rahlitek, but you mentioned ruling?¡± Weaver asked, shaking a little as she did so, ¡°Is there any way we could persuade you not to do that?¡± ¡°I fear not. This world is the one place Oblivion cannot touch, and you mortals have all but trashed it in the absence of the gods.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Weaver continued, ¡°Are you sure? Because people really aren¡¯t going to like that.¡± ¡°Of course they won¡¯t. Were I anyone else dear Erebus here would already have tried to strike me down. Sentiment has always been your weakness hasn¡¯t it apprentice?¡± As she said it she moved to kiss the necromancer¡¯s forehead, lips leaving blisters behind. ¡°So conflicted. Tell me boy, what stays your hand? You wanted to protect this world didn¡¯t you?¡± Erebus didn¡¯t say anything, gaze averted in shame. ¡°You can¡¯t possibly think you can fight the entire world and win.¡± Natalya declared, trying to step in where Erebus had failed. ¡°Of course not. I am powerful but not that powerful.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek said, holding back a cackle, ¡°You forget Reath is a very large place, I don¡¯t have to fight it all at once. Just a little bit at a time. Once I¡¯ve broken the Paladin Protectorate and the Council of Mages, Contemnere will fall in line. After that it will be a simple matter of consolidating before I take the rest. Ten thousand years at most.¡± ¡°What if we say no?¡± Nat pressed. ¡°It won¡¯t happen, mortals have always knelt in the face of greater power.¡± ¡°You misunderstand me. What if we say no?¡± The necromancer raised her battlestaff, the gem at its tip sparking with barely restrained lightning. ¡°Oh. Then you die. Obviously.¡± The imperator of madness declared. Natalya didn¡¯t even see her move. The monster¡¯s talons were a millimetre from her exposed eyeball as both Erebus and Lana held back her hand with every ounce of strength in their bodies. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek stepped back, tugging them both off balance as she did so. ¡°Lana, what treachery is this?¡± ¡°No treachery my liege. You bid me to protect Erebus. That is all I am doing.¡± The devil stated gently, not a whisper of defiance in her words. ¡°Had you slain Natalya he would have tried to strike you down.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± The imperator breathed, understanding dawning as she stared pityingly at her student, ¡°Sentiment. You will not raise a hand to protect this world. But these mortals stir you to action. It seems I truly failed you apprentice.¡± ¡°You misunderstand teacher. If I fight you, here and now, my friends will die. The world would not.¡± Erebus finally answered, breaking his silence, ¡°It would be an inevitable consequence of the fight. That becomes moot if you try to strike them down yourself.¡± ¡°I see. Don¡¯t tell me you think you can win against me boy?¡± She laughed, ¡°I made you to be confident, not arrogant.¡± ¡°No. I could never defeat you alone.¡± Her apprentice conceded, ¡°Nonethless I have no choice but to try. The last thing Reath needs is another tyrant. I will be but the first and likely the least challenger you will face if you desire this world.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek sighed, genuinely mournful as she spoke, ¡°It seems I owe you an apology. I had hoped to rule with you at my side but in some ways it seems I made you too well. Lana, I relieve you of your charge. I will make this swift apprentice, you shall not suffer.¡± ¡°I refuse my Lady.¡± Lana replied, moving between Erebus and her imperator. ¡°You made me swear to protect him from all threats. All threats includes you.¡± ¡°Lana don¡¯t-¡° Her ward began to protest but it was far too late. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s claws had already scythed the devil¡¯s head from her shoulders. The imperator stared at her bloodstained nails for a moment before she shook her servant¡¯s blood from them. ¡°Sentiment. Sometimes I truly fear it is a disease.¡± She said to herself before she turned her attention back to Erebus. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do that.¡± He said softly, the embers of rage beginning to build, though the great fire did not quite appear, drowned in the waters of bewilderment, ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re doing any of this.¡± His teacher considered that for a moment, and the intensity of her reply, no her plea, made Erebus take a step back in its intensity. ¡°Because the board has lain static too long. Because without change defeat is inevitable. If my father is to be denied then things must change. Giving Oblivion back his name is not enough. The legions of hell are spent child. My fellow imperators bleed power moment by moment. If there remains the power to stop him it lies here, and I will have it.¡± Her eyes flitted between Erebus¡¯ surviving friends, ¡°I had hoped you would be the one to unite this world, to lead it, but you fear your own strength overmuch. So I will step in where you will not.¡± ¡°A bargain then. We can make a new pact.¡± Erebus tried desperately. ¡°Master this doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m not making that error again.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek growled, ¡°I made you to be the perfect weapon, either strike me down or be slain yourself. Those are your options.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t hurt me¡­¡± The words were slow, hesitant and full of wonder. ¡°You can¡¯t actually hurt me.¡± ¡°What nonsense are you babbling?¡± The demoness snapped, stepping over Lana¡¯s corpse to advance upon him. ¡°Our pact is still in effect.¡± Erebus continued, the shock of realisation more or less forcing the words from him, ¡°You swore to make me the perfect weapon, but what use is a weapon if it refuses to cut? All you¡¯ve done since you arrived is try to goad me into battle. Belittling me. Threatening Reath. Threatening Natalya. Killing Lana. You need me to attack you or you¡¯re in violation of our bargain.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 33 - Her Masterpiece ¡°I, Erebus, fifteenth of that name, do swear to be studious, to obey the instructions of my teacher while within her home and only when they are part of my teaching. To strive to become my perfect self and to become a weapon to be wielded against those who would harm the innocent.¡± ¡°I,¡± And this part took most of an hour, the imperator¡¯s name was terribly long, bestowed upon her by Oblivion himself so that none but he could ever command her. Somehow she¡¯d slipped the leash but the name remained, ¡°do swear to teach you as I see best. To craft you into the perfect weapon to defend Reath. Shorn of doubt, of weakness, and of sentiment. Your resolve shall be unshakable, your skills myriad and your enemies shall shudder at your name.¡± As demonic contracts went it was certainly a unique one. A small demonic pact typically ran to hundreds of pages, it¡¯s clauses manifest, its loopholes hammered into non-existence. This one was little more than stated intent and trust. Ironically it was more ironclad than even the most extensive pacts, one party had nothing to gain and the other had nothing to lose. ¡°So what happens now?¡± Erebus asked nervously, staring around the lifeless world around him, a perfectly smooth plane of stone that stretched as far his eyes could see. The insanity of his decision was just starting to sink in. ¡°Now we fulfil our bargain.¡± His new master said simply, buildings beginning to condense out of the aether in front of them. It was easily the most casual display of power Erebus had ever seen. ¡°You will find your room on the third floor, fourth door on the left. Do not use the other rooms. I have not decided what they will be yet and they will be in a state of flux.¡± ¡°What will you be doing?¡± The necromancer asked, not shy about asking questions, it was in many ways why he was here afterall. ¡°Properly furnishing my home it seems. Furniture and rooms I can create with a thought, but a library will require me to source the books from elsewhere. I will need to pact with those demons and devils who maintain such things, and I will also require a staff. I cannot be teaching you at all times, others will need to step in when I cannot.¡± * It had been a week in the Hells, or at least this specific hell. Though Erebus was increasingly unsure it was a hell. He knew that the realities outside of Reath were more malleable but that didn¡¯t quite explain just how easily it had responded to the imperator¡¯s will. Even Fae Royalty, at the heart of their own demesne, would have struggled to create things so effortlessly and on such a scale. He¡¯d been astonished with the sheer speed his new master had worked. It had taken her less than a day to bargain, buy and threaten enough books out of her fellow demons to fully stock a library that not even the Seruatis library, the Fortress of Truth in New Pax or the Necropolis¡¯ Whispering Archive could compete with. So far formal lessons had been rather lacking, leaving Erebus little to do other than to (very tentatively) explore. It was proving difficult given he had no idea if he was even allowed in a given room. His mana senses were for all intents and purposes worthless, always a problem in the Hells where the mana roiled and writhed and fought with no apparent regard for the laws of magic as Erebus understand them. A brief conversation with Tsa¡¯rahlitzek had finally revealed why. ¡°It¡¯s not mana. Not as you understand it anyway.¡± She explained, sat staring at the empty sky with such great and mournful longing that it had been all Erebus could do to interrupt her to ask. ¡°Then why can I sense it?¡± The necromancer asked, moving to sit beside her, legs crossed as he tried to get comfortable on the flat stone. ¡°Have you ever wondered what mana is?¡± She replied, eyes never leaving the sky. ¡°Well yes, everyone has.¡± ¡°And what, apprentice, was your conclusion?¡± She was looking at him now, gaze expectant, possibly even hungry. ¡°Energy.¡± The answer came readily enough, he¡¯d been thinking about it for a long, long time, and honestly didn¡¯t know a mage that hadn¡¯t. ¡°It¡¯s a source of energy.¡± ¡°Close but not quite right. It is the potential for change. That¡¯s why only living things produce it.¡± She explained, shattering the orthodoxy of mages in a handful of simple sentences. ¡°It is easily the simplest of the magical energies.¡± ¡°Hang on. We don¡¯t produce mana though.¡± Erebus had protested, more out of confusion than any defiance. ¡°Oh you do, not much but you do. In your entire life you¡¯ll likely produce just enough mana to boil a kettle, and you¡¯re an exceptional case.¡± She answered, ¡°All living things produce a little, most of it comes from grass, trees and algae.¡± ¡°Okay, say I can accept that, what are the other magical energies then?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t want to guess?¡± The demoness asked coyly, apparently intent on returning every question with a question of her own. If Erebus hadn¡¯t known better he¡¯d have suspected she was sidhe rather than a demon. ¡°I want to know.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek frowned for just a moment, ¡°Very well. I presume you¡¯re familiar with vitae?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a qualified healer.¡± Erebus said in answer, only to continue at the obvious irritation on his master¡¯s face, ¡°Yes I¡¯m familiar.¡± ¡°Vitae is also a form of potential, the potential for continued life. Which is why the elderly mortals have so little of it to take.¡± So spoke the voice of experience, or perhaps not. Erebus was stone cold certain he was the first ever to summon an imperator to Reath, but perhaps an overconfident warlock had braved the hells, or a dying one cashed out his remaining magical chips in exchange for a decent afterlife without risking the Veil. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense though. Children have almost no vitae, surely they¡¯ve got the most potential for continued life?¡± ¡°Of course they do, foolish mortal. They have more than you could possibly imagine, and they¡¯re far too busy using it.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek almost shaking with laughter, and the world shook with her, a considerable earthquake shaking Erebus¡¯ body for the few seconds the demon lost control. ¡°What is magicka then?¡± Erebus asked once his master had properly composed herself. She smiled at the question, ¡°That one we¡¯ve never been entirely sure of. Jr¡¯agenthek thinks it¡¯s some kind of commingled state between vitae and mana. I think it¡¯s a form of mana that¡¯s been refined by proximity to a mortal soul.¡± ¡°Jr¡¯agenthek?¡± ¡°Imperator of Order and Light. We argue. A lot.¡± She gave a small ¡®what-can-you-do¡¯ half-shrug, ¡°Now the soul itself is particularly interesting. I believe it to be a lesser form of divine spark.¡± ¡°Believe? Not know?¡± Erebus interjected, a touch incredulous given he was talking to someone almost as old as Reath itself, if not older given temporal shenanigans. ¡°I¡¯m not omniscient. I¡¯m not sure anyone is.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve no use for souls and no means of acquiring them thus never have put the time in to find out.¡± ¡°You mentioned a divine spark? Is that what I think it is?¡± ¡°If you think it¡¯s what gives gods their power, then yes.¡± ¡°And we have those?¡± Even for a veteran mage gods were something of a taboo subject. The official line in First Response was that they were a myth made up by mortals about early mages. The official line in Second Response was they were all dead. The unofficial line was to call it in then run like hell. ¡°A lesser version, all of the flavour, so to speak, none of the potency.¡± With that she stuck her hand in his chest, not on his chest but in it, the flesh of the demoness simply melting into him as he felt icy fingers close around his heart and then his soul. Erebus went completely still, he¡¯d have tried to hide his fear but it was hard to hide an increased heartbeat when someone was actually holding said heart. ¡°Hmm¡­ flavours of undeath, fire, healing and shadows with just a hint of¡­ mirror magic. You¡¯ve led a varied life I see.¡± She noted as she withdrew her hand, nonchalantly licking her fingers clean. The sight sent a shudder down Erebus¡¯ spine, it was important not to forget that in more normal circumstances she¡¯d have simply torn his soul from his chest and eaten it in front of his cooling corpse. ¡°I believe we were talking about how the mana in the air isn¡¯t really mana?¡± The mage inquired, desperate to change the subject, anything to avoid considering how unpleasant having everything that made up himself quite literally caressed felt. ¡°Indeed we were. You¡¯ll certainly find it more potent than mana though a lot harder to use. Which you¡¯d know if you¡¯d cast any magic since arriving here.¡± Erebus declined to answer the implicit question there. ¡°So what is it?¡± ¡°Chaos. Raw, undiluted chaos. Be careful when casting with it, because it will fight every attempt you make to enforce order on it.¡± ¡°You say that like it¡¯s alive.¡± Erebus observed. Normally he¡¯d have been dismissive of the idea, but when the next best thing to a god said it it tended to carry more weight. ¡°Not alive. Life is too orderly. But it¡¯s chaos. It doesn¡¯t want to be chaos. It doesn¡¯t need to be chaos. It is chaos. When we say that demons are born of chaos we mean it literally, a pattern forms for a brief moment and then there¡¯s a demon. Admittedly that¡¯s almost always because someone puts it in that pattern, but there have been exceptions.¡± ¡°Are you an exception?¡± Erebus asked in what he hoped was an incisive question. Going by his master¡¯s laugh he¡¯d failed. ¡°No. I was create purposefully. The odds of a demon of my strength occurring by chance are low. So low that through all of time it has never happened. Unless you count the gods of course.¡± ¡°The gods are demons?!¡± Erebus spluttered, eyes wide as saucers. ¡°That¡¯s a matter of much debate amongst imperators. The theory is that the first gods were also born of chaos, huge patterns in the chaos, so large they disrupted the entire flow, then the first gods made the second and so on. I¡¯ve no idea if it¡¯s true but it¡¯s as good an explanation as any.¡± ¡°So what is chaos then?¡± ¡°The potential for creation.¡± * ¡°This is Lana, she¡¯s one of the demons I¡¯ve pacted with to help tutor you.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek stated, pushing forwards a frankly terrified looking succubus. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Lana was a classical demoness, crimson skin, wings, tail, horns, the works. She also wasn¡¯t paying any attention to him at all really, far too busy trying to look behind her at the demon queen without moving her head to do so with rather limited success. Erebus didn¡¯t blame her. Even after a month of staying in the demon¡¯s private world he still had to fight back a shiver every time he saw Tsa¡¯rahlitzek as every sense he had told him in no uncertain terms that the only reason he shouldn¡¯t be running right now is that it was already far, far too late. He had a sneaking suspicion that ¡®pacted with¡¯ in this case had involved corporealizing in front of the demon and declaring she worked for her now. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek, either unaware or simply uncaring of her charge¡¯s thoughts, carried on blithely, ¡°She will be sorting out the library so as to better aid you in your search for knowledge as well as acting as your torturer.¡± Two pairs of eyes widened at that proclamation. ¡°A torturer?!¡± cried one. ¡°A librarian?!¡± cried the other. The demon queen sighed, ¡°Of course. Did you really think your training would just involve me dumping the knowledge of aeons into your brain and hoping for the best? You must be able to keep your head in the direst of conditions, to cast spells that even a moment¡¯s distraction would cause you to die in an instant even whilst the world devolves to chaos around you, to remain focused on your task no matter the distraction. I will accept nothing less.¡± Both demon and mage shivered, a moment of terrible solidarity passing through them. Especially as Tsa¡¯rahlitzek continued talking, ¡°As much as I would normally attend to these parts of your training myself, after our first lesson turned you into a gibbering soup I have concluded a gentler touch is required.¡± Erebus did not recall a first lesson, the lack of knowledge wasn¡¯t the comfort he¡¯d have hoped. ¡°We will start with pain.¡± * He¡¯d lost track of how long he¡¯d been here. Even accounting for the fact he was having his memories removed on a semi-regular basis he¡¯d lost track at around the three year mark. Today¡¯s lesson was on pain, again. Lana was carefully flensing the flesh off his back as he juggled the spells around him. A sphere of water, a globe of fire, a perfect marble of quartz and, unseen, a bubble of air. The four spells were not powerful by any measure and were similar enough that any master elementalist could likely have done it, though it had certainly eluded him before he¡¯d come here. Whether any of those mages could have done it whilst being flayed was another matter but as Lana¡¯s blade removed another square of skin from his back and more blood pooled stickily beneath him, the spheres didn¡¯t even wobble in their orbit around him. At least until the succubus began to rub salt into his exposed nerves. Without even a hint of resistance the spheres either dissipated or fell to the floor as Erebus screamed his agony to the uncaring sky. ¡°Disappointing.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek declared, ¡°It is just pain child, a distraction, nothing more.¡± ¡°Exactly! It¡¯s distracting!¡± Erebus retorted as he took deep breaths to calm himself down. His back was already healed, the skin not even scarred, the blood once more in his veins. There were other things he wanted to yell but he knew they would fall on deaf ears. ¡°You must learn to ignore it. Pain, pleasure, boredom, desire, love. These are all distractions. With my help you will overcome all of them.¡± The imperator told him flatly, ¡°Begin again.¡± Gently Lana stroked his hair as he resummoned the orbs. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She whispered as the knife once more caressed his skin. * It had been some time since Erebus had seen his master. Something about a war, though she hadn¡¯t elaborated on the matter beyond that. A search of the library, with Lana¡¯s help, had returned nothing. It wasn¡¯t surprising, Tsa¡¯rahlitzek had certainly read every single book there, curating them for her apprentice. If the imperator didn¡¯t want him to find out the truth then he wouldn¡¯t, it was as simple as that. On the bright side the lack of deific supervision had allowed Lana and he to spend more time together. There had been other demons around the house, A¡¯ronol and Pth¡¯erek, acted as guards, the two rather burly devils of war would have been the kind of threats on Reath that would have mandated immortals to deal with, but here in the hells they were steady middleweights, and frankly superfluous in the face of the hell¡¯s owner. As Erebus understood it their purpose was less to fight anything that turned up as to keep him alive long enough that he could be shunted through a portal, then follow after him until his master had successfully subdued, interrogated and disposed of the threat. So far it had amounted to little more than a well paid vacation for the pair who, unlike Lana, had at least kept their heads well enough to bargain for their service. There was also his swordsmanship teacher, Vaul the Demonblooded, a vampire that had fled Reath for the hells after he¡¯d gotten a tad too peckish during a demonic invasion and began manifesting demonic traits. His payment was to take the form of five drops of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek''s blood that he planned to spend the next ten millenia absorbing. The smart money was on the overambitious vamp cooking himself in his own skin instead. Erebus had protested the need for a swordsmanship teacher, he had afterall been a combat mage of some renown. That protest had died when he¡¯d been skewered three times on the vampire¡¯s rapier, Lifedrinker, in three seconds from three different angles. The vampire¡¯s role was less to teach him how to be better with a blade and more to teach him how to survive when facing a blitz attack from a much faster foe. ¡°All that guff you read about spotting patterns and predicting the attack is just manure to appease the gullible.¡± Vaul had told him, between skewerings, ¡°If someone¡¯s got that big a speed advantage on you they¡¯ll just abort or redirect the attack. Unless they can¡¯t actually perceive what they¡¯re doing properly in which case it¡¯s a miracle they haven¡¯t just splattered themselves against a wall by now.¡± ¡°Then how am I supposed to deal with it?¡± Erebus had asked whilst healing a perforated lung, his trusty travel staff held in front of him, blade out. ¡°Well I know the Lady intends to teach you chronomancy at some point, and that goes some way towards levelling the playing field, though it¡¯ll be hard as heck to do on Reath. My advice¡­? Explosions. Lots of explosions. Send out shrapnel. Send out heat. Doesn¡¯t matter how slippery the git is, they can¡¯t dodge if there¡¯s nowhere to dodge to.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s assume that¡¯s not an option, say I¡¯m in an enclosed space, what then?¡± ¡°Oh that¡¯s easy. You get stabbed. And you make damn sure that once the blade is in they aren¡¯t getting it out again. It¡¯ll hurt like¡­ well being stabbed but given some of your other lessons I think you can handle it.¡± That was certainly true. Lana was no longer required for his training sessions since the kind of pain needed to make him drop a spell had escalated to the kind that had to be pumped into his brain directly. He knew it was stressing her out, that she was now superfluous to requirements and he¡¯d made a point to compliment her care of the library to his master whenever an opportunity presented itself. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek was not exactly renowned for her generosity and she¡¯d never actually promised to let the succubus leave once she¡¯d played her part in this. * ¡°I won¡¯t let her hurt you.¡± They were foolish words and they both knew it, but Erebus meant it all the same. The two were cuddled up in his bed, sweaty and thoroughly pleased with themselves, and each other. It was another of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s barely explained disappearances and they¡¯d been making the most of it. Things were coming to something of a head, no more pain lessons, not because there was no greater pain that could be inflicted upon him but because the kind of soul mutilation required would have been beyond even the imperator¡¯s ability to heal. Lana feared the worst. That at any moment the executioner¡¯s axe would descend for her and it had made the supernatural predator skittish and jumpy to the point she¡¯d screamed once when he¡¯d shut a door too fast. ¡°What can you possibly hope to do against her?¡± Lana asked, not unfairly or unkindly. It was a good question and Erebus carefully didn¡¯t answer it as he simply repeated, ¡°I won¡¯t let her hurt you.¡± It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t want to answer, he did, but if he put voice to his plans he suspected that would rather be the death of them. After so long in the imperator¡¯s private hell he thought he¡¯d finally figured out what was so strange about the pocket dimension. This place wasn¡¯t Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s private hell. It was Tsa¡¯rahlitzek. The great imperator had built a world of herself, an impenetrable fortress to defend against some great enemy where the very air would be against it. If he was right even saying as much as he had was a risk, though he quietly suspected that the imperator got a quiet thrill from what little defiance he showed. She probably wouldn¡¯t kill him if he chose to throw down with her. Probably. As to Lana¡¯s question, he had ideas. He had no idea how long he¡¯d been away from Reath, though he did know that Tsa¡¯rahlitzek had severely skewed the flow of time in his favour, but regardless of how long it had been he was sure that some of his friends would still be alive. It would be the work of moments to open a portal for Lana and shove her through. A moment was a terribly long time when fighting a demon queen. The key, he was sure, was going to be chaos. Rather than attempting to strike her down or hold her off with spellwork, what if he could set up some kind of cascade effect in the chaos in the air? That combined with the new shield spell he¡¯d been quietly working on, which he¡¯d decided to call the absolute aegis, might be just enough to get Lana away. He didn¡¯t say any of that though, just pressing a kiss to the back of the succubus¡¯ neck and pulling her closer against him, intent on getting some actual sleep. To his surprise Lana pulled away, rolling over to face him. ¡°When you go home¡­ you¡¯ll remember me right?¡± ¡°Of course.¡± The promise slipped out before he could stop it. Not out of any intent not to keep it but because they both knew what he remembered was not something he had any control over. ¡°That¡­ that¡¯s good.¡± She whispered, almost to herself. So taken in was he in that moment of vulnerability that Erebus barely even felt it as she tore his throat out with her claws. It took a couple of seconds for the pain to sink in, though he barely even noticed it, almost mechanically moving his hands to cover the wound as he tried to heal it. He didn¡¯t manage it. Lana¡¯s tail twined smoothly around both his wrists, pinning them in his lap even as she began to pull the life from him, not much but enough to gutter out the spell before it could take. He didn¡¯t say anything as the demoness held him in place, choking on his own blood he couldn¡¯t say anything, and with her sapping away anything he tried to cast with he couldn¡¯t do anything either beyond stare at her in quiet betrayal even as one of her hands pushed into his flesh beneath his ribs. Symbolically it should have been his heart that she pulled out but as Erebus stared at his own liver he couldn¡¯t see any way he could live without that either. * ¡°I told you I would break you of love.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek told him calmly for the umpteenth time. ¡°Was any of it real?¡± Erebus screamed at her, or at least tried to, his voice hoarse from yelling, ¡°Tell me! That¡¯s all I want to know.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m telling you it doesn¡¯t matter. It was real for you. That¡¯s all that mattered. And if you were anywhere else in creation you would be dead because of it.¡± ¡°It matters to me!¡± The necromancer yelled, angry enough to actually take a swing at her. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek didn¡¯t even bother to dodge it, simply deciding that there was now several metres of space between her and Erebus that hadn¡¯t existed before and letting the necromancer overbalance as the predicted resistance never appeared. ¡°I won¡¯t tell you.¡± She said simply, ¡°Doubt is also a distraction you must overcome.¡± ¡°And what? You think one heartbreak is going to somehow numb me to love?¡± He snarled as he tore stones larger than he was from the ground to bombard his teacher. No longer even trying to show restraint where his rage was concerned. He knew the imperator could take it. ¡°Hardly. It would take a thousand heartbreaks to numb someone to something as pernicious as love.¡± She said from behind him, a hand on his shoulder. ¡°And a thousand heartbreaks I have wrought.¡± Memories poured into him. Pounding him to the ground in flashes of agony. Of Lana licking his lifeblood from her claws as he bled out on the floor. Of the succubus choking him to death with her tail. Of an assassin bursting into his room and Lana dying in his arms afterwards. Of him weeping next to the demoness¡¯ body the one time he¡¯d reacted faster. Of the demon draining life and soul from his body. Of them plotting against Tsa¡¯rahlitzek only for Lana¡¯s blade to burst from his chest when the moment came. Again and again, as many different betrayals as the imperator had been able to concoct, and then when her imagination ran dry the same again for good measure. His master had been right, he felt numb. Also like he wanted to throw up, but mostly numb. ¡°You must be ready and able to strike down anyone at a moment¡¯s notice. Now let us speak of boredom.¡± * ¡°You¡¯re ready.¡± The words took him by surprise. He¡¯d long given up on ever hearing them. He couldn¡¯t say what had finally changed to let his master reach this decision. Possibly that he¡¯d stopped expecting it. There wasn¡¯t some grand work of magic or terrible torment being undertaken at the moment, he¡¯d been sat quietly in the library learning one of the runic scripts and for a short time he simply kept reading in the belief that it was some kind of test. ¡°I said you¡¯re ready.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek told him, going so far as to incarnate in front of him. The necromancer studiously ignored her until she closed the book on his fingers. Given the size of the tome he¡¯d had to pull them away rather sharply to keep them. ¡°Ready for what?¡± He asked, not trusting his ears in the slightest. ¡°Ready to leave.¡± She clarified. ¡°Pack what you brought with you. My staff desire to give you gifts.¡± The imperator shook her head at the absurdity of the idea. Erebus declined to point out that for all her disdain she was allowing it anyway, and the demoness never allowed anything she didn¡¯t approve of. Vaul¡¯s gift, perhaps predictably, had been a blade, a glittering rapier with a rather large number of rather large mana stones worked into the hilt. The blade bespelled to steal the vitae of its victims. It would have been an invaluable gift if Erebus had ever taken to the blade, as it was he could think of a number of powerful mages who would gladly barter for it. The two war devils had, somewhat surprisingly, given him a small portrait of himself in heavy meditation, close to a dozen spells swirling around his head, and a book of poems, handwritten. There had been other gifts, most of them more useful for trade than personal use. Gr¡¯kriss, the leader of a pack of hellhounds that his master had teach him how to track properly, had told him how to summon her and promised not to charge him on the first two summonings. Last had been Lana, the demoness stepping up to whisper three words in his ear as her gift. ¡°It was real.¡± Only for the succubus to step back crestfallen at his impassive expression, simply nodding to her once as he tried not to sneer, love was afterall a distraction and he was finally free of them. ¡°You will need to establish yourself rapidly on your time. You have been absent six months Reath-time, I advise laying low an established power.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek informed him as Erebus opened a portal home. ¡°Of course master.¡± He said, turning to bow at the waist to her, ¡°My gratitude to you for your training. I intend to do great things.¡± With that he stepped through the portal and was gone. Oathkeeper - Chapter 34 - A Combined Arms Approach ¡°You need me to attack you or you¡¯re in violation of our bargain.¡± The words hung heavy on the air as the imperator stared him down before inclining her head just once. ¡°Indeed. A bargain was made. If I strike you down now then it will lay forever unfulfilled, a wound I can ill afford given the battles to come.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek agreed gravely. ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± Natalya frowned, ¡°How does him refusing to fight you break whatever deal you have? I can¡¯t imagine anyone including that in the fine print.¡± ¡°I swore to see him shorn of sentiment, yet his affections for all of you stay his hand.¡± The imperator explained, the words were frosty enough that Natalya shivered to hear them. ¡°Is this the part where you kill us so we¡¯re no longer in the way?¡± Alec asked tentatively, figuring someone had to ask it for all they were dreading the answer. ¡°No boy, it is not. Even if he attacked me he would not be doing it in spite of his affection, he would be doing it because of it.¡± The demon explained, calculation dancing behind her eyes. ¡°An impasse.¡± ¡°What do you propose we do about it?¡± Erebus asked almost teasingly, only almost, the lightness in it was patently false where his gaze had never once left Lana¡¯s body since the moment she¡¯d been struck down. With Lana between them he¡¯d had no way of stopping her and it had all but killed him not to summon every weapon he could call to hand to try and wipe her from the face of Reath. But to strike her would have been to lose the little bargaining power keeping the rest of them alive, it would guarantee the wound Tsa¡¯rahlitzek feared sure, but with nothing holding her back it would have been easy enough for her to mop them up. ¡°I propose that I simply remove them from the equation.¡± She declared, smiling as she did so. ¡°But you just said-¡° Natalya began, starting to summon a shield she knew wouldn¡¯t achieve a damn thing, simply hoping to die fighting rather than paralyzed by fear. ¡°Removed. Not killed.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek clarified, the necromancer¡¯s defences sputtering out at the proclamation, and not by Natalya¡¯s hands. ¡°Say I agree to this Sarah, what then?¡± Erebus demanded, the archmage was gathering power now, pulling the mana and chaos from the air into himself so sharply that even Alec could feel it, the mana beacon of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek dimming ever so slightly. ¡°Then we fight and I kill you. Our pact remains fulfilled upon your death and I go on to conquer. Or you can join me, that is still an option.¡± ¡°That was never an option.¡± Erebus lied, ¡°And win or lose you don¡¯t kill them?¡± ¡°Not unless they oppose me.¡± The demon promised. Demons weren¡¯t fae, they could lie, but nonetheless he believed her. ¡°Then the pact is made.¡± He said simply. ¡°How will you guarantee their safety during the duel?¡± ¡°Duel? You overestimate yourself apprentice. This will be just another execution of a wayward subordinate, little more.¡± ¡°Humour me.¡± Erebus growled, skin practically glowing from stored mana as the mage fought hard not to simply burst like a fuse. ¡°I will create a parallel dimension to allow them to watch the duel, only light will pass through it, and I trust your former teachers are up to the task of blocking a little light.¡± She smiled warmly, it didn¡¯t suit her, ¡°Is it ego that made you travel with all the teachers you¡¯ve surpassed? Pity? Either way I assure you the pattern won¡¯t last.¡± ¡°I would say farewell to my companions before we begin.¡± He declared solemnly. ¡°Sentiment.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek scowled but made no further comment. ¡°Sentiment.¡± Erebus agreed rather more cheerily, turning to face his friends, presenting his back to the imperator for the first time since her appearance. Amara broke the silence, the vampire wrapping her friend in a rib-crushing embrace, ¡°You know when this all started I thought I was the one rescuing you. You have no idea how annoying it is to find the opposite true. You know I could-¡° ¡°You¡¯d be killed before you even closed the distance.¡± Erebus cut her off, not unkindly. ¡°That may look like a mortal body but it¡¯s not. Think of her like the elemental, just power given form. The only way to kill her is to exhaust her power.¡± ¡°Oh. Is there anything I can do?¡± She asked, not liking just how resigned Erebus seemed. For all that the archmage was glowing like a beacon with barely restrained power he was talking like he¡¯d already rested his head on the executioner¡¯s block. ¡°Go back to Vulcanus and enjoy your life.¡± He said simply, ¡°You¡¯ve done more than enough ¡®Mar.¡± Slowly he released the embrace, turning next to Holly and Alec. ¡°This is the part where I¡¯m supposed to offer you sage advice, I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t really have any. Try to look after each other, most people are doomed to face their great hardships alone, you both have a rare opportunity to avoid that.¡± ¡°I guess now it¡¯s my turn?¡± Natalya observed dryly, pulling her erstwhile subordinate into a hug nearly as rib-crushing as Amara¡¯s and with not even a whisper of vampiric strength to explain it. ¡°I never took you as much of a hugger.¡± Erebus quipped weakly, regretting the loss of vital air as soon as he did so. Fortunately Natalya let go of her own accord, ¡°I¡¯m not. So go on then, bestow upon me your wisdom oh venerable archmage.¡± ¡°If I fall, go to Seruatis. The archmages there will know what to do.¡± Erebus said simply. ¡°I was hoping for something a little more prosaic and inscrutable.¡± She laughed, though her heart wasn¡¯t in it. ¡°You¡¯re the only one I trust to do it¡­ and thank you. For putting up with my bullshit.¡± He smiled back at her before turning to the last of his companions. Weaver of New Tales stared back at him, her two largest eyes boring into his. Spiders couldn¡¯t cry but Erebus recognised the fastidious cleaning of her pedipalps as anxiety writ large. ¡°Just win.¡± The arachni told him as he opened his mouth to speak. ¡°I¡¯m not going to just lay down and die Weaver but I¡¯ll be honest with you, no mortal mage, no matter how formidable, can slay an imperator on their own.¡± He inclined his head to her, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t give you a better adventure.¡± ¡°Are you joking?! This has been amazing,¡± The arachni protested, before adding belatedly, ¡°and the next one will be better.¡± Erebus smiled but didn¡¯t comment, turning instead to his foe. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s do this.¡± With a wave of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s hand his friends simply vanished, presumably spirited away to another dimension. She could have killed them, certainly she was skilled enough that he wouldn¡¯t have known the difference, but he trusted his old teacher to keep her word. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Erebus planted his feet, warstaff raised up against her, the golden ring of his last great bound spell just below the terrible spell sphere glowing at its tip. ¡°That won¡¯t work on me foolish boy.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek chided, not taking any stance at all. Why would she when the outcome was so terribly certain. ¡°You¡¯re right of course.¡± He agreed, ¡°It only works on creatures who¡¯s essence is of Reath. This sphere can¡¯t do anything to harm you, but what if I simply target the space you¡¯re occupying and dump you into the void between worlds.¡± His grin was positively vulpine as he spoke. ¡°I would simply enter back through the wound in the world before you could attempt to seal it.¡± His master spoke simply, not bothering to hide her chuckle as her apprentice¡¯s face fell. ¡°The air then. Catch you in a large vaccumn then watch the implosion.¡± He tried again. ¡°Ultimately mere kinetics. It would be an easy injury to heal.¡± She replied, swatting down that idea as well. Erebus sighed, removing the ring from the staff then discarding it to the floor, one of the deadliest weapons of war on Reath; useless. Instead he reached for his old travel staff while deftly slipping the ring onto a thumb, withdrawing the venerable stave from one of his inner pockets, finally giving up the pretense that they needed to conform to such tawdry things as a set volume. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek just watched indulgently, though whether she was indulging him or herself was up for debate. With a deep breath her apprentice faced her down, ¡°So are we going to use a set signal to start or¡± With a flash of movement he struck, flinging out an arm as a handful of projectiles flickered across the distance. The demoness got her shield up in time, arrogant she might have been but she knew as well as Erebus did that his only chance was to strike as fast and hard as he could, to try and lay low the imperator in a single decisive blow, much as he had with the Red Cap. Her eyes widened as the needle-like projectiles passed seamlessly through her barrier of lurid red chaos to pierce her flesh. There was a ripple of internal movement within the demon¡¯s flesh and she spat out the five shield piercers Natalya had handed her old comrade during the hug. ¡°Unsubtle, but decisive.¡± She told him flatly. Of the terrible venoms that had been inside the hollow needles there was no sign. ¡°You can¡¯t blame me for trying.¡± Erebus pointed out evenly, doing his best to stare her down. ¡°Of course not. Now¡­ my turn.¡± The thin tendril of darkness lashed out from torso, though whether it was part of her or merely a spell Erebus¡¯ couldn¡¯t tell. The difference was academic really, the imperator was practically an engine for creating chaos, it saturated her flesh, setting her apart from Reath, it made little difference whether she was casting with it or simply flinging it at him. Reacting on instinct he flashed up a shield of will, nothing powerful, and it broke almost instantly but that didn¡¯t matter, he¡¯d already dived aside to avoid the strike. He would never beat her matching strength for strength so he wasn¡¯t even going to try. What he hadn¡¯t expected was for the tendril to curve to follow him. Eyes wide he rolled to his feet in a single smooth motion, pivoting off his back foot to avoid being simply carved in half by the blow. It worked, mostly. The tendril of shadows swiped down, neatly removing his arm between shoulder and elbow before drawing back. Taking its prize with it. Erebus scowled, dumping a good chunk of his hoarded mana into a panacea spell of epic proportions. The regeneration, normally the work of minutes if not hours, took seconds. He couldn¡¯t afford to be down a hand. Luckily for him the stolen arm hadn¡¯t been the one with his bound spell on it. He was going to have to use it soon. The necromancer had hoped to stall out a little longer, to get a better measure of his foe, but all he¡¯d learned so far was that even a probing strike was more than he could handle. A more sincere assault would surely kill him. Reluctantly he raised his second magnum opus to his lips and whispered gently to it, ¡°I am going to die alone.¡± With a flash of golden light the ring vanished. Surprisingly Tsa¡¯rahlitzek did not try and strike him down immediately. It would have been uncharitable to call it fear, caution maybe, for while the gulf between them was vast, Erebus had struck down stronger foes before. Yet when nothing happened she resumed her confident sneer, another tendril struck out to be sidestepped by Erebus. In both directions. Two Erebuses smirked at her, the tendril quivering between them, apparently uncertain what to do. Which at least confirmed its nature, some variant of seeker spell now thwarted where it had no way to determine which of the identical targets to chase. ¡°That¡¯s ace one.¡± The Erebuses declared, splitting again. A blast of lightning took one of them in the chest but it was already two late, three became six, became twelve, the multiplying mages rapidly spreading out so they couldn¡¯t be wiped in a single spell. Cloning spells were, if not a dark art, certainly a grey one. Heavily discouraged by the litany of tales where rogue clones slew their creator to assume their life, only to fade as the magic powering them dwindled. Of clones devouring their creator¡¯s soul to become them in truth. Of creators burdening their clones with onerous duties until the clone simply snapped. There had been efforts to overcome these problems, a commonly posited idea was a hivemind, a union of the self. There had been successes, though they tended to fail at combat, the clones balking at combat or worse if self-sacrificing enough to die for their hivemind dying in droves. Erebus had gone for something simpler. There was no creator or clone, they were both simply Erebus, living, breathing and perfect copies of the necromancer, united not by telepathy but by purpose and experience. None were doomed to fade. It was a work of power not seen on Reath for centuries, or would have been if some lunatic hadn¡¯t, a mere week ago, burned out an entire divinity in the name of vengeance. Clone warfare was not the cure-all one would hope, being the same person they all tended to favour the same spells, perform the same actions. In other words a total waste if the opponent knew how to counter the attack. Fortunately Erebus had been prepared for this, ¡°Restraint.¡± Yelled one, stepping back from Tsa¡¯rahlitzek even as another yelled ¡°Weapons.¡± whilst drawing out a pair of long daggers from his robe to charge at the demoness. He didn¡¯t get far, bisected at the waist with a flick of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s hand, but that hadn¡¯t been the point. More clones were spawning, some of the Erebuses (Erebi?) moved back, acting as dedicated spawners while the spell lasted. Others began to fling spells at the foe, fire, lightning, entropy. A cohort quickly joined hands, channeling together to contest their mentor¡¯s mastery over shadows. The restraint team summoned chains from the air itself, binding her limbs as they tried to sap her strength through them. A dozen reckless fools charged in, not a similar weapon between them as they sliced, swung and bashed away at her. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek smiled for just a moment before fighting back, impressed despite herself. Her apprentice had certainly grown in her absence, it was almost a pity it didn¡¯t matter a damn. Her claws lashed out twice, and two men fell dead. Maces and mauls shattered upon her skin. Swords bent around her as a razor fine ring of shadows carved those Erebuses close to her in half. The mages holding the chains collapsed, spasming in death as she sent lightning down them. The team trying to restrain her shadows died in a fiery inferno as hellfire bloomed around them. It didn¡¯t matter, the swarm still grew, fearless and desperate as the spell ran its course. It did not matter if they died, they¡¯d known they would die in this duel. The ¡®Legion of One¡¯ spell wasn¡¯t a work of necromancy but it was in many ways the apotheosis of what necromancy, at least in Erebus¡¯ eyes, stood for. The Paladin Order had many oaths, one rather pithy vow included the words ¡®Let my only regret be that I have just one life to give.¡¯ In the eyes of the Necropolis, paladins lacked commitment. More chains were summoned, stone not steel. New clones picked up the weapons. One particularly enterprising Erebus grabbed her from behind and detonated, pouring his life and soul into the blast. That at least harmed her, explosion not just reducing her body to little more than dust on the breeze but consuming much of the surrounding chaos now in the air. Nonetheless she reconstituted, drawing mana from the air as well as feeding her new body with power from her mote of ignited chaos ¨C the demonic equivalent of a divine spark. ¡°That hurt.¡± She growled, apparently done with the game now she¡¯d been bestowed a wound. A thousand tendrils struck out. Every Erebus died. Well most of them died anyway. The tendril reaching for the outer ring, the dedicated spawners, fell short, glancing off of a brilliant azure shield. Erebus¡¯ first absolute aegis had been the work of decades, but with over a hundred of them acting together the second one had taken a fraction of the time. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek had power enough to break it, that was certainly true, but it would not be the effortless fight she¡¯d faced thus far. Ignoring the dead and the dying she glared out at the circle of necromancers, the mages had joined hands to create an unbroken circle. And there was only ever one reason to trap a demon in a circle. ¡°You can¡¯t honestly mean to bind or banish me?¡± The imperator could not possibly have sounded more incredulous. The Erebuses smiled, answered in a single choir, ¡°Of course not master, we both know how poorly that went the last time. You see you made a single terrible error. You dismiss sentiment and trust as weaknesses, the tools of those without power to bend others to their bidding, but trust is what binds us all together. Do you want to know what my second ace is? I have people I trust. And you? You do not.¡± His piece said he turned his gazes up to the sky, ¡°I have her contained, you may commence the assault.¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 35 - War Comes To Seruatis At the Temple of the Sun, far across the western ocean an obsidian blade descended and a god died. In the Necropolis a full quorum of liches prepared to step into a teleport circle. Ancient dragons, too large to teleport, instead breathed fire through portals. In the frozen wastes of the north two warriors bid teary goodbyes to their family. There were others, dozens of others, every major power in the world had felt the presence of the imperator and not one was going to roll over for her. * Minutes earlier, in Seruatis, a gorgon was venting her rather considerable pique. ¡°He¡¯s going to die. For Martyr¡¯s sake, lower the damn shield!¡± Dus wasn¡¯t quite yelling but it was a close run thing, her snaky hair spitting and hissing at anyone who got close as she glared at the scrying orb as if daring it to transfer her gorgon¡¯s gaze to the object of her ire. Under more favourable circumstances Pheus would have enjoyed seeing his foe of ages in such an incandescent state but the stakes killed any pleasure he might have felt. He was, it seemed, to act as the voice of calm. It was difficult, he well understood Medusa¡¯s desire to do something, anything, and it had served the gorgon well in battles past where lesser people would have dithered and died. Now though¡­ ¡°We only get one shot at this.¡± He told their patron. ¡°The necromancer knows what he¡¯s doing.¡± The god of dreams certainly hoped he did, that the hugs and teary goodbyes were an attempt to lull the imperator into a false sense of security. ¡°He has to know the world is watching, he will give us a signal when to strike.¡± Or just die in front of them but that was a thought Pheus didn¡¯t voice. Erebus always had a plan, surely, it was one of the infuriating thing about him, whether you were friend or foe, surely now would be no different? ¡°We wait.¡± The Swordsman declared, staring at the scrying orb even more fixatedly that Dus. Of all the people in Seruatis it was the immortal who knew Erebus best. And of all the people gathered in this hour of crisis it was he who could do the least. Pheus wondered if that ate at him. Certainly it would have clawed at his own insides if the situation were reversed but the tattooed blademaster had always been inscrutable when he wanted to be. Seruatis¡¯ guardian was for once wearing armour, a bedazzling mix of rarefied gems wear worked into the plate, each doubtless carrying a spell to be discharged when conditions were met. It looked like parade armour, all but useless. The base metal however was mithril, not the hardest of magical metals, but given how much all those stones had to weigh, the silvery not-quite-steel was probably the wisest choice. Their patron might have beyond human strength but no matter how strong a person got eventually gravity had the final say. It spoke heavily of how bad things were likely going to get over the next few minutes that an immortal was taking defensive measures. Pheus had seen the man at work before and, while he wasn¡¯t a god, by any measure he was a tricky opponent. The kind that he¡¯d found personally infuriating because they simply refused to stay down. Men and women like the Eternal Swordsman had helped cast down the gods at the heart of their power. He¡¯d personally watched relatives being held still by undying meatshields while the Elder Wraith tore their divine spark from their chest. The Elder Wraith was there too. She was, of course, unarmed. It was technically possible to make arms and armour for incorporeal undead but in her case it was a wasted effort. Even The Smith and The Runemaker working together would have struggled to create anything more durable or deadly than she already was. ¡°Anyone you¡¯re expecting?¡± Pheus asked her sotto voce as they watched the lopsided duel unfold. ¡°Possibly. My recent actions have set the Paladin Order against me, they may take the opportunity for reprisal.¡± She didn¡¯t sound especially concerned, not that he would have either. ¡°It occurs to me that we could make it a lot harder for invaders by raising up a dust storm in town. Noone¡¯s teleporting in then.¡± The god opined, ¡°On the other hand if they¡¯re arriving by magic they can¡¯t bring any nullstone in with them, the hypocrites.¡± The Elder Wraith shrugged, placing a hand on his shoulder. He allowed it, fairly sure the undead wouldn¡¯t try to drain him. ¡°Desperation makes people foolish.¡± ¡°I get the feeling you aren¡¯t referring to our magic-wielding magic-haters.¡± Pheus noted. ¡°This place is meant to be a place of safety, yet you invite war here.¡± She replied simply, ¡°Why are you so concerned by this demon? We have terrors enough beneath Seruatis to power the barrier even against her.¡± ¡°Not yet no. But if she is given the chance to consolidate her power she will. I guarantee you that this conversation is taking place in dozens of places across Reath, because this is our one chance to kill her. I guarantee you she will seek out the aetheric chains, those gods that rely on anonymity to live, and she will consume them. She is very much her father¡¯s daughter in that respect.¡± ¡°Her father? A god?¡± The Elder Wraith¡¯s eyebrows went up in shock. ¡°Worse, a primordial, a conceptual entity. Against any other imperator there might be room for negotiation, some deal we could work out, but not this one.¡± Pheus shook his head, ¡°We must kill her. Reath depends on it.¡± ¡°Well now I¡¯m confused.¡± The Elder Wraith grumbled, ¡°If she¡¯s that dangerous then who in all the hells summoned her?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The god admitted, ¡°But I can tell you who pulled the strings to do it, not that there will ever be any evidence.¡± The Elder Wraith considered that for a moment, ¡°This fool endangered Reath itself, I don¡¯t need evidence.¡± Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°He¡¯s a Lord Protector of the Holy Paladin Order. Allister Lutan, son of Anton Lutan and Protector of the Western Reaches.¡± Pheus informed her, almost disappointed as her face fell. ¡°Maybe a little evidence then.¡± ¡°Indeed. Another Paladin-Necromancer war is the last thing this continent needs right now. I suspect your kin will be sending their own cabal of opportunists, of course.¡± The Elder Wraith laughed dryly, ¡°Tragic really. Well I wouldn¡¯t be opposed to a trade. I¡¯ll kill the inheritors of my will if you kill yours.¡± ¡°How delightfully morbid. I accept. So who else are we expecting to make an appearance?¡± The fallen god asked casually. In truth this pre-fighter banter was just him hiding his nerves. For all his power Pheus had never been much of a fighter and this would be his first serious battle in over ten millenia. ¡°Hmmm¡­ I¡¯d say a detachment of gorgons. Their numbers have been on the rise lately, and they hold their grudges close. Probably some warped looking for a fix and however many automata are still paying attention. Did I miss any?¡± ¡°None come to mind.¡± Pheus replied jovially. And he certainly hoped not, the expected presence of gorgons on the field of battle had already limited their defences. Pretty much every warrior was hiding in the reinforced bunker that posed as a cafeteria, the ballistae festooning it little more than oversized ornaments where they lay unmanned. Automata would also be a problem, at least those who still had their original armaments. Terrible relics from the fall of the gods. Machines crafted by the since fallen dwarves for the single purpose of hunting and killing gods. Pheus was almost certain they had destroyed all of them, but he¡¯d been certain of that many times already and yet whenever a divine back lay exposed an automata lurked to plunge a dagger in it. Last and least were the warped. Godsblood junkies to all extents and purposes, they¡¯d fed on the flesh of the divine and been granted power, and they always wanted more. They would be a powerful foe for most mages or paladins, but to the kind of defenders Seruatis possessed they were little more than chaff. Which was good because they¡¯d come by the dozens out of whichever holes they¡¯d been hiding in. ¡°You¡¯re looking a little green at the gills Phee.¡± The Elder Wraith noted, ¡°This whole plan was your baby, don¡¯t go chickening out on us now.¡± ¡°Of course not.¡± The god all but snarled. He would have said more but the necromancer chose that moment to make his move. It had been masterfully done, if he hadn¡¯t been watching for it he¡¯d never have seen it coming, one moment maddened multiplying militia the next a binding circle made entirely out of human beings. There was no time for idle chatter anymore. ¡°Open the shield!¡± He yelled, ¡°Everyone make ready to repel invaders!¡± The Eternal Swordsman nodded once then activated the runes built into the walls of his home, and keyed just to him, to render Seruatis defenceless The next part wasn¡¯t his to do, Jay stepped out the Swordsman¡¯s door and vanished, presumably appearing out of one of the doors by Seruatis¡¯ grand obelisk where he would channel the magics needed to guide their final contingency to its resting place. None of that was Pheus¡¯ concern, the god stalked out the door alongside the rest of the handful of defenders, fanning out as they waited for the inevitable. They didn¡¯t have to wait long. Down one of the sidestreets across from him he heard a cry of ¡°Mirror!¡±, in the town centre Jay was already having to duel a trio of Necropolis¡¯ liches who had simply teleported in (liches were notoriously fearless where teleports were concerned) and right in front of him a full blown dimensional breach appeared, rage demons pouring out of it to rampage. Those were just the attacks he was close enough to do something about. The good thing to do would have been to aid whichever poor soul was having to deal with a teleported mirror, doubtless facing down a legion of something if they needed that sort of mass transit. The smart thing to do was to kill the demons and then try to stitch closed the tear in reality they¡¯d used to get through, it was a task that would take a god¡¯s magicka reserves to do ¨C which was probably why they¡¯d done it that way. What he did instead was help his brother, letting his body unravel into a pink fog before surging through the demons, who swiped ineffectually at him, to recorporate besides Jay, bolstering his shield and sending a burst of fire at the undead trying to overpower him. Jay had always been the worst fighter of the three of them. In many ways he should have been an even better killer than Nem. As the god of doors and choices he saw every choice before himself as well as before his foe and it should just have been a matter of easily picking the one that led to victory. Sadly that had never been the case. In battle there were simply too many chances and the options overwhelmed him until it was simply too late to take action, a god undone by his own power. At least he¡¯d managed to bring his shield up this time. The three liches knew their business though, each taking a different flavour of magical energy, and each picking a flavour that was good for breaking down shield. Fire, lightning and entropy. The good news was that their entropy specialist was a lot worse at it than Erebus, instead of a tight focused beam of nausea-green disorder designed to force a breach for another spell to sneak through, it was a diffuse effect, covering the whole shield and very slowly eating away at it. The bad news was that the liches were so bedecked in magical objects it bordered on a regalia, mana gems glowed with power, armour polished to a mirror finish was inscribed with runes in a dozen magical languages, a belt of spell spheres lay ready to lay waste to foes. To his magical sight each one glowed deity bright. That was what made a lich dangerous, not their exceptional magical ability but their patience, and these liches had clearly been preparing for this fight for a terribly long time. At his presence one of the liches smoothly grabbed a sphere, ¡°Corporealis.¡± The undead monster muttered to it. There was a faint glow of steely grey light from the sphere before the bound spell rushed to meeting them. It didn¡¯t cut through the shield, but that didn¡¯t matter. Pheus could easily guess what it did, outside the shield he¡¯d be unable to turn into his mistform. A crippling blow given his mobility in battle was easily his best, and in many ways only, asset. It also spoke to a terrible surety in victory that they were making sure he couldn¡¯t escape. Gritting his teeth Pheus put more of his magicka into the sphere, feeling the drip drip of energy lost as his spellwork outpaced his divine spark. ¡°Jay. You need to go.¡± He hissed furiously, looking over at his hesitant brother. ¡°What? You need me here, to help hold the shield.¡± Jay protested. ¡°No. I need you to find Nem, tell him when to join the fight.¡± The god of dreams insisted, ¡°The plan remains the same. He¡¯s the only one who can duel that hellspawn and have a prayer of winning.¡± ¡°But you-¡° ¡°I will be fine.¡± Pheus lied even as he redirected a handful of thrown spells spheres, not wanting to find out what happened if they met his shield. It proved a wise choice as the house he redirected them into simultaneously tried to implode and explode, the resultant debris sizzling away as some sort of acid coated it. ¡°But-¡° ¡°Go.¡± The god yelled, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and all but throwing him at the nearest building. The liches tried to kill Jay. The moment he left the shield a dozen spells were aimed at his fleeing back. Pheus caught all of them, extending the shield to fill the entire street, no longer a protective dome but a sheer plane of protective energies. He felt his divine spark rebel, a faucet trying to refill an ocean. It didn¡¯t matter. Jay made it, darting through the door and vanishing. Smiling the god of dreams turned back to his ancient foe, shield resuming its more economical shape, ¡°Now gentlemen, where were we?¡± Oathkeeper - Chapter 36 - The Heroes of Reath The Erebuses¡¯ watching nearly went blind as the first of the divine contingencies arrived. A lurid bolt of red lightning, coming not from the sky but tracing a path through the air to take Tsa¡¯rahlitzek in the side. The imperator hissed out a breath of pain as a chunk of her chest simply vanished, but that was all. Fortunately the lightning wasn¡¯t done, still arcing around her with a speed and intensity that left Erebuses blinking spots from their eyes. It was alive, he realized belatedly. Expending an entire divinity¡¯s worth of energy over the course of a thousand blows, all directed by a living mind. It could have vaporized Tsa¡¯rahlitzek a dozen times over, but that would have been a terrible waste, the demoness would simply reform herself at a fraction of the energy that single strike would have held. Instead it merely did enough to bestow a wound upon her, the red bolt dimming further and further with each too-fast-to-follow exchange. For the imperator was not idle. Shadowy tendrils lashed out, daemonfire lanced in dozens of directions, but the lightning, unsurprisingly, moved at the speed of lightning and with a god¡¯s mind behind it it was easily able to avoid her attempts to kill it until finally, work done, it expended the last of itself to turn Tsa¡¯rahlitzek to dust, the god, divinity spent, passing on to wherever gods went when they died. The demon smirked, dusting herself off of herself as she waited for the next blow. She needn¡¯t have waited, it was already on its way, dozens of portals opened around her as the dragons of the world blasted her with flames that wouldn¡¯t have been out of place during a solar flare. The ground beneath her melted, ran and then boiled. Erebuses¡¯ aegis glowed with the extra effort of holding it. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek wasn¡¯t even visible under that terrible flame and by all rights the necromancer should not have been able to hear her laughing, but hear her he did. A lash of darkness darted through a portal and the fire there cut off. Then another. And another. After that the portals closed themselves. Strangely though the land around them didn¡¯t glow any less. Dragons weren¡¯t stupid, they¡¯d known they¡¯d struggle even between them to burn an imperator. What they could do however was keep her busy. Seruatis¡¯ great weapon had all but set the sky aflame as it reentered Reath¡¯s atmosphere, a terrible lance descending with a roar that would have deafened Erebus and possibly even Tsa¡¯rahlitzek if it hadn¡¯t been rendered mute by a simple fact. Any projectile travelling faster than the speed of sound would be inaudible to its target. The thing falling from the sky had begun its life as a tungsten rod, a hundred metres long and about as thick as Erebus¡¯ torso. There had been no efforts to make it aerodynamic, they¡¯d simply pointed it at Reath and let the atmosphere itself melt it into a tip as it tore through the air. And tore was the right word, at the speeds the rod from god was moving it was receiving air resistance comparable to driving through concrete. With the glow of the dragonfire only just starting to fade, Tsa¡¯rahlitzek, dimensionally locked inside the aegis, couldn¡¯t flee and had just a handful of seconds to pull together a shield to try and expend some of energy before it hit her. Then the rod hit and the world devolved into nothing but sound and heat. The blow would have killed most gods instantly. Devils would have died by the legion. Even most titans would have had a terrible time dragging themselves back together. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek lived, though it was a close run thing, for the heat, hot enough to cook even her, lingered in the air, the dust tore through her like bullets as she tried to reform, the sound of it shook her apart. Again and again, draining the chaos from her bit by bit as she fought to live, to become whole. Erebus deserved at least some of the credit. By all rights there should have been a crater miles across and hundreds of metres deep. He couldn¡¯t testify to the depth though he personally couldn¡¯t see a bottom to it, not that he could see anything in the white hot dust cloud that filled his aegis. Over half the Erebuses had died from the blow, pouring life and soul into maintaining the aegis, and even their surviving fellows were looking on the withered side. It had been hard work. There was no way he could have outright stopped that much energy, instead he¡¯d simply taken advantage of the cylindrical nature of the aegis to put a bit of spin on it, trapping his former master in a burning tornado of dust that stretched all the way to the upper atmosphere and pushed all the way down to bedrock. When the dust finally stopped glowing and began to settle it revealed Tsa¡¯rahlitzek floating in midair as she tried to glare at every Erebus at once. The imperator was no longer smiling and though she didn¡¯t look wounded he could feel where lines and whorls of mana ran through her body where she¡¯d adulterated the chaos within to conserve her strength. It was probably a good thing she was taking the fight seriously now for she wasn¡¯t the only thing the settling dust had revealed. In front of her a full quorum of thirteen liches, bound together by chains of enchanted silver, their baleful red eyes glaring out of her. Less a group than a single entity with multiple bodies. They were amongst the best the Necropolis could spare. They were also probably the weakest of the new challengers. Next to them was a knight in pure mithril platemail, a fortune beyond measure on his skin. There was no enchantment on display nor the kind of intricate heraldry and filigree one would expect on such expensive mail beyond the helm, which was shaped like a dragon¡¯s head. Erebus recognised the helm, and by extension the man beneath it, if he could be called a man. Vorlukkan, a dragon who had forsaken his body for one that would let him walk amongst the people of Reath. He was about as close to a real life hero as could be found on Reath. The dragon nodded respectfully to the circle of Erebus, ¡°A valiant effort to contain her, young necromancer, with your permission I would relieve you of your burden.¡± ¡°More than gladly kind Vorlukkan, I appear not only to have bitten off more than I can chew but perhaps more than I can lift.¡± The necromancer declared. Vorlukkan laughed, a generous bellow of mirth as he placed his hands on two Erebuses shoulders, the surge of mana from the dragon was immense, almost more than he could handle, and the aegis, which had been starting to dim, glowed with life anew. There were more still, behind the demoness the Huntress, peer, friend and sometime rival of the Eternal Swordsman, stood next to two youths, a young man and women who held a hammer and spear respectively. They were large specimens of humanity but beyond that unremarkable. It was that unremarkability that put Erebus¡¯ teeth on edge, no one who was even vaguely normal was showing up to this fight. Their weapons were not enchanted as far as he could see, the warhammer was a bit on the short side and looked heavy and the spear was worn from years, the haft showing signs of having been repaired. He had no idea what the Huntress was doing here, the Immortals as a general rule lacked the means to teleport and the Huntress as a card-carrying lone wolf would have struggled to get someone to do so at such short notice. She had to have simply been in the area, perhaps responding to the battle with Charigris. The final group that had been able to make it stood apart from the rest. Close to a hundred, their metal flesh gleaming in the air. Automatons, god-killers, and apparently Tsa¡¯rahlitzek was deific enough to count, though their cold green gazes rested for just a moment on the two youths, which at least answered Erebus¡¯ questions there. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek slowly pivoted on the air she was standing on, taking in her foes with contempt, ¡°A bunch of corpses too foolish to cling to life, a dragon with an identity crisis, a pretender to immortality, two children who should know better than to challenge their elders, and some relics too stupid to stop fighting a war they¡¯ve already won. Is this all Reath has to muster?¡± ¡°If you¡¯d given us some time to prepare I assure you we¡¯d be giving you a far more appropriate welcome.¡± The Huntress all but spat, not yet putting arrow to string. Noone wanted to start the hostilities yet, Tsa¡¯rahlitzek to recover some of her lost strength and the defenders in the hope that some stragglers might yet appear. It was the automatons that broke the uneasy equilibrium, the machines cared little for posturing and perhaps even less for reinforcements. Their objective remained as it always had been, to kill gods, and lo there was a divine being in front of them. Not fuelled by a divine spark admittedly but close enough to hit every other criteria on the list. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Ignoring a hasty cry of ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± from Vorlukken, the machines charged as a single mass. It looked insane, the artificial creatures doomed to simply fall into the abyss below as Erebus¡¯ master sneered. Instead, as they crossed the threshold to oblivion Erebus felt a wrench in his gut as the automatons simply grabbed hold of his aegis and redirected it, the incredible barrier becoming a floor for them to charge across. Even Vorlukken hissed at the extra unexpected strain, supporting close to a hundred tonnes of weight wasn¡¯t out of the question, even for the circle of Erebus, but it was an unexpected and constant strain. That was all the cue everyone else needed, The Huntress put a dozen arrows into the air from outside the aegis, the great shield¡¯s runes parting to let them through. The arrows¡¯ enchantments sparking on contact with the demoness but otherwise being ignored. The lich quorum, not to be outdone, began to chant, a ball of flame forming over their head even as the two youths charged the demoness, though they were rather more cautious than the automatons. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek waved a hand at the automatons, a dozen shadows striking the lead machine and doing little more than raising sparks and taking chips from it. Her brow furrowed at that before giving a more determined effort to obliterate the machine. Normally when flames got hotter they went from red to orange, then to blue and finally to white. Hellfire it turned out turned purple. A small ball of violet flame took the lead automaton in the chest and more or less slagged it on the spot, the machine, old enough its birthday cake would have made Charigris look merely warm by comparison, now nothing but molten metal pooling on the aegis floor. The effort had cost Tsa¡¯rahlitzek though, and she didn¡¯t manage to put together another ball of flame before the rest were upon her. The demoness swayed out of the way of the nearest automaton¡¯s blades, the long knives built into the machine¡¯s arms, then her flesh parted itself to get out of the way of a hail of darts that burst from its chest before she backhanded it hard enough to cave in its chest. The machine kept fighting and more of them entered the melee, quickly surrounding her before the others could get close. That in itself was a problem and the two youths had to back off, especially when one of the automatons turned to take a swipe at them. The Huntress cursed, unable to get an angle on her target and the liches held off their spell, content to let the sphere of silver fire grow. The problem was that none of them were used to working together, they didn¡¯t know what any given fighter would do and the automatons exemplified that better than anyone. With the dwarves long dead they couldn¡¯t even be ordered to work well with others. Which wasn¡¯t to say they were being ineffective as they swarmed Tsa¡¯rahlitzek, far from it, the demoness was agile on her feet but no one was so agile they could avoid a dozens of strikes from nearly as many different angles. Instead she had to simply let them stab her as the god-killer blades sought out the mote of ignited chaos in her chest, or rather which had been in her chest. Right now the mote was somewhere in her left leg, her body far more malleable than the gods they¡¯d been designed to kill, and though her flesh sizzled on contact with them, if they couldn¡¯t find the mote they couldn¡¯t kill her. This time the ball of hellfire was a lot larger and the aegis nearly fell under the weight and heat of so much molten metal, to the point Erebus was forced to flicker it to let the destroyed automatons fall into the abyss below. Some of them had likely still been able to fight, misshapen and slagged as they were but it was either let them fall or risk losing containment. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek didn¡¯t get much time to gloat, an arrow sprouting from between her eyes almost instantly as the liches cast their spell. The ball of silver fire left a hole in the Erebuses¡¯ aegis despite their efforts to part the shield for it, another necromancer pouring their life into the grand shield to plug the hole lest the imperator slip through and escape. For the first time the demoness looked uncertain as she turned to face this new threat, outright ignoring the several arrows extruding from where her heart would be. Erebus could guess as to why she seemed uncertain. These were his people, ostensibly, and he hadn¡¯t a damn clue what they¡¯d cast either. What he could see was the hole it was leaving in the local mana, and for a moment he was tempted to simply write it off as a variant on Amara¡¯s mana-devouring flames. The moment didn¡¯t last long though, because as the ball of silvery flame crossed the distance to Tsa¡¯rahlitzek mana didn¡¯t come rushing in to the hole it left. It was as if the fire had burned the air¡¯s capacity to hold mana away and Erebus had to wonder if it might genuinely be able to kill her. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek didn¡¯t wait to find out, a pulse of lurid entropy left Erebuses blinking spots from their vision even through the aegis, which finally fell and shattered as the ball of fire detonated, flickers of the silver flame shredding the shield beyond repair. For all the aegis could self-heal it was hard to do so when the space it occupied couldn¡¯t hold mana. When the mortal mage(s) finally could see again, which had required more or less regrowing their eyes, he found that things weren¡¯t going well. The liches were dead or fled, ditto Vorlukken, though the great hero was far more likely obliterated than turned tail, and the two gods were not holding out very well. The two clearly knew how to fight but the sheer difference in magical prowess was evident as his former master simply teleported away from blows from their weapons. Though it spoke to the strength of the spear and hammer that she felt the need to avoid them at all. Nearly all the Erebuses were dead, bodies shredded by the silver fire and unable to heal. A quick headcount confirmed just five of them remained, their grand ploy torn apart by their own allies. This was very much his worst case scenario. Without the aegis to dimensionally lock her, Tsa¡¯rahlitzek could simply teleport at will, her amorphous flesh rendering her immune to the dangers of teleportation, and the last few fighters were paying for it dearly. The Huntress hadn¡¯t stopped loosing arrows in that entire time, confident enough in her aim not to hit her allies, but this wasn¡¯t a foe that a steady hand and a good eye could hope to fell. The imperator had yet to even treat her as an irritation. It was the blonde woman with the spear that was holding everything together, a perfect economy of motion with each unerring stab, and they were unerring, each one aimed at Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s mote of chaos, no matter where she tried to hide it, forcing the imperator to teleport away each time. Nonetheless it was clear the demon was confident in victory, without Erebus keeping her locked down there was nothing stopping her simply leaving to lick her wounds otherwise. Still she was being made to work for it, even when she teleported behind the woman¡¯s kin, claws descending to part godly flesh, the spear was there to deflect the blow. It reminded Erebus of watching Sato fight, always right where they needed to be. Even magic didn¡¯t achieve much, shadow tendrils were simply carved apart, streamers of hellfire parted upon the spear¡¯s tip. By contrast the young man with the hammer, a shaggy haired bear of a man, was an unimpressive fighter, left flailing the stubby hammer at a foe that simply would not stay still. It was probably unfair to call it flailing, any warrior, no matter how mighty, would appear clumsy and graceless against a fighter who could teleport with impunity. It was a glorious dance, and were the stakes not so high Erebus would have felt privileged to watch it. The only person landing blows of any kind was The Huntress, everyone else far too dangerous to allow so much as a scratch. That proved Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s mistake. Erebus didn¡¯t see how the archer triggered it, but the double dozen arrows (a paltry handful from the apparently infinite quiver) lodged in her flesh detonated. It wasn¡¯t much in terms of injury, the imperator had healed it almost before the shrapnel had finished exiting her body, but what it had been was distracting. The stubby hammer, which had once gone by the name Mjolnir, took her full in the chest, lightning wracking through her body in that moment of contact, before it returned to its owner¡¯s outstretched hand. That was nothing compared to the spear, the tip penetrating demonic flesh like butter as it surged effortlessly towards Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s mote of chaos, currently residing in her left shoulder, intent on snuffing it out. Without her godlike source of chaos the demoness would be a trivial foe. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek tried to teleport away, flickering in place for a brief instant, and an Erebus died to lock her in place. With a snarl of rage, the imperator cast her mote from her body, revealing it to the world as it hovered behind her. A single point of dusky red glow in the air, already starting to fade as mana assailed it from all sides. She wasn¡¯t dead though, and with a hideous grin she grabbed the haft of the spear, keeping it in place as she drove her claws into the woman¡¯s gut, fingers grasping upwards as they pushed through organs to try and pull her heart and divine spark from her chest. ¡°Your forebears were worthy foes. You should have known better.¡± The demon taunted, satisfaction etched into every word. The young woman, who¡¯s name Erebus would never learn, stared in horrified disbelief, still trying to pull the spear free before she simply vanished, spear and all as the necromancer spent yet another life to teleport her away. Teleporting gods, it turned out, was hard work, ditto for divine artifacts. Still the two Erebuses that remained couldn¡¯t help feeling vindicated at Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s bellow of rage, the demoness snatching her guttering mote from the air to put it back in her chest. The battle was over. It was the work of an instant for the demoness to teleport over to The Huntress, grabbing the tattoed archer by leg and neck and simply pulling her in twain before, spinning twice in place to build up momentum, throwing what was left of her towards the horizon. Erebus had never had a love of gods, if asked then hate would prove a mild description of his feelings towards them, but he couldn¡¯t allow his former master to harvest one either. With a grimace he spent his final spare body to teleport them away, Mjolnir falling down where he¡¯d stood. It would find its way back to its owner, it always did. ¡°It was a valiant effort.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek told him as the last necromancer sank to his knees, exhausted. ¡°Better than I expected. But insufficient all the same.¡± She placed a companionable hand on his shoulder, ¡°Well let¡¯s have it then, I¡¯m sure you have some final gambit, one last ditch effort?¡± Erebus didn¡¯t reply, just staring at the carnage in apparent defeat. He did indeed have tools left, but none that were up to the task. The imperator¡¯s body was more mana than chaos, her reserves largely spent and he could feel her mote of chaos flickering with instabilities even from here, yet the gap between them remained too vast for him to cross. ¡°A pity.¡± The demoness sighed, ¡°On your feet. No apprentice of mine will die kneeling.¡± ¡°Oh I don¡¯t know. I rather like the sight of a necromancer kneeling.¡± The terribly, wonderfully, familiar voice mused, hate, smooth as satin, flowing with every word. ¡°Still for necromancer scum he¡¯s rather done a number on you imperator. Shall we dance?¡± He was late to the party, but Nemesis had finally arrived. Oathkeeper - Chapter 37 - Dus Choice Pheus was running out of ideas. More importantly he was running out of magicka, and the mana in the air would have struggled to turn a teaspoon of water tepid. The liches hadn¡¯t had the fight all their own way. One of them lay in little more than splinters where the battle had began, a result of Pheus mimicking Erebus¡¯ gravity hammer spell with gratifying effect. He¡¯d even been fast enough to grab the lich¡¯s fleeing soul out of the air, shredding it with vindictive glee. What had been less gratifying was the way the spell had simply slid off the shields of the other two undead. Now that, he had to begrudgingly admit, was talent. To see a spell once and create a countermeasure on the fly¡­ it would frankly be a disservice to call the skeletal mages opposite him one-in-a-generation talents. The good news was that the lich he¡¯d turned into bonemeal had been the entropy mage. The bad news was that the other two were between them more than capable of breaking his spellshield anyway with a somewhat non-traditional one-two punch of fire and lightning. Fire and lightning was an odd combination of attacks, very different from the more traditional lightning and fire, and there was a serious difference between the two. With the latter the goal was to massively and suddenly stress the shield, allowing the far slower moving blast of fire to break through and roast the caster behind it. It was a reliable strategy, only slightly undermined by the fact that a fast reacting mage, amongst whom Pheus ranked highly, could repair the shield before the fire hit. Fire and lightning was a lot harder, mostly because the thermal bloom of the fire tended to dissipate the bolt of electricity. But with a sufficiently powerful strike it was a deadly combination, the fire stressing the shield evenly and heavily before the lightning simply punched through. It didn¡¯t take much voltage either, at least on a mortal, just enough to send muscles to spasm, then the shield would drop and the fire would turn the unlucky mage into briquettes. Fortunately for Pheus, gods were made of somewhat sterner stuff than humans. Unfortunately, that sterner stuff meant he was being electrocuted about as fast the lich could charge the spells. Options running more than a little thin, the weary god opted for his least favourite tactic. Negotiation. ¡°You realize the fate of the world is at stake right now?¡± He bellowed, having to fight to make his words heard over the roar of the fire eating away at his thin bubble of mana and willpower. To his surprise that actually got a response, the flames flickering out and the lightning failing to fall. ¡°The world is often in danger. It is yet to fall. Opportunities to finally purge gods from Reath are far rarer.¡± Lightning lich said evenly. ¡°Not in danger like this. You have to be able to feel her even from here right? This isn¡¯t some prodigy mage with delusions of grandeur, that¡¯s an imperator. Even I would struggle to lay a wound on her.¡± Pheus pressed, trying not to look too relieved as his divine spark steadily created fresh mana to fill his body. It was a drop in the ocean to the power he could hold, but he hadn¡¯t exactly been working with a full bucket at the start either. All three of Seruatis¡¯ gods had been using up mana almost as fast their sparks could make it, whether to feed to the nascent spark, to help top up Seruatis¡¯ mana gems and their host of functions or to pump it into the great obelisk in the centre. Mostly the latter. Some things were more important even than their own safety. The liches considered his words, no one became a pinnacle of necromancy by being an idiot. ¡°By your own admission,¡± The fire lich began, ¡°you would make no difference to the fight and I can feel the imperator¡¯s strength dwindling even from here. I think you are just stalling.¡± Pheus groaned, bluff called, ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you couldn¡¯t make a difference.¡± ¡°The Necropolis has already sent a response team trained for such incidents. We are trained to kill you. It is far more likely we would get in the way.¡± The lightning lich explained, electricity beginning to crackle between her hands again. Desperately Pheus looked around, the street they were in was narrow, too narrow for him to get a sense how the battle was going beyond the yelling telling him people were still alive and fighting. It occurred to him that he¡¯d been herded there for that very purpose, so that no one could interfere with an execution millennia in the making. Of course some people didn¡¯t care much for walls, or floors for that matter. The Elder Wraith placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, bypassing his shield entirely where she¡¯d risen through the ground. ¡°Sloppy. Desperate.¡± She told him simply. The god of dreams went statue still, not daring to speak. This close to him it would so terribly easy for the oldest wraith on Reath to pluck his spark from his chest. ¡°You got slow Pheus.¡± She continued, ¡°Go plug the rift, or find someone who can. The Swordsman¡¯s keeping it locked down for now but every moment he¡¯s stuck in place is a moment our people are dying.¡± ¡°My lady?¡± Lightning lich asked, she and her companion had dropped to a knee, heads bowed in supplication to one of the very founders of the Necropolis. ¡°Are you not going to take vengeance on this wretched creature?¡± The Elder Wraith rubbed at her eyes tiredly, ¡°Why on Reath would I do that?¡± ¡°¡­because he is our enemy? The things he and his people did?¡± The spectral monster sighed, ¡°I don¡¯t need vengeance. I¡¯m not even sure I want vengeance. What I am sure of is that this hateful wretch has done nothing since the war except labour night and day to protect Reath. To protect it from the monsters that live outside this world, the fools that live within it and even from time itself. No, I am no Medusa. I don¡¯t need vengeance.¡± It was hard to read a lich¡¯s expression at the best of time, sun-bleached skulls couldn¡¯t exactly emote, but the two in front of Pheus looked¡­ lost. As if someone had stripped away the foundation of their world. ¡°When did you grow so weak elder one?¡± The lightning lich asked sadly, getting up to her feet. ¡°So¡­ irresolute?¡± Pheus almost bristled on his ancient enemy¡¯s behalf but the Elder Wraith simply laughed, ¡°When I realised that all I was gaining from more power was more powerful enemies.¡± For just a moment the god allowed himself to hope that she might actually have talked them down, at least until electricity began to crackle in lightning lich¡¯s palms once more. ¡°It¡¯s a pity to have seen you fallen so far great wraith, rest assured we will ensure you are remembered as you were, rather than as the weakling you have become.¡± Tempting as it was, Pheus didn¡¯t stick around to watch the liches die. He had his own side of the bargain to uphold, and woe betide any paladins that got in his way. As soon as he¡¯d run far enough to be out of range of whatever spell the liches had been using to keep him corporeal, Pheus switched to his mistform, taking a moment to hover high and take in the battlefield properly for the first time since it had started. True to the Elder Wraith¡¯s word the Eternal Swordsman was indeed stood in front of the tear in reality, though no more demons were coming out of it. Even ragos had limits on how many of their fellows they could see diced into even cubes before they realized that fighting was a bad idea. Still Seruatis¡¯ great protector couldn¡¯t just leave either, his presence was the only thing stopping legions of demons simply pouring in and thus just by standing on the other side the rage demons were more than achieving their goals. Pheus would have bet several souls that the demons were just hirelings, muscle for one of the people actually invested in the assault¡¯s outcome, and given they¡¯d tied up the heaviest hitter Seruatis had they were money well spent. The army from the mirror turned out to be a clan of odd looking ghouls that Pheus would later find out were the Drake-Eater Cabal, a group of undead consisting of ghoul and vampire who dined heavily upon dragon, wyvern and similar until they¡¯d taken on some of the traits of their food. Fortunately the hours of daylight had kept the vampires of the clan out of the fray, but Seruatis¡¯ role as creche and daycare for young dragons had presented a banquet the ghouls had simply been unable to ignore. Currently they were trying to funnel their way into the cafeteria, the great steel doors broken down, the runes on them simply melted away, and the stairs down an increasingly desperate melee as both sides made liberal use of dragonsbreath. The mortal defenders dying in droves whilst the ghouls all but waltzed through the flames. Part of Pheus hurt at that, while Seruatis was no Olympus it had been home for a not inconsiderable amount of his life and knowing it was his actions that had wrought this destruction, however necessary, had him feeling pangs of pain in his chest that he had not expected. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The cafeteria wasn¡¯t the only place where fire was being used without any consideration for collateral damage. The Seruatis Library was a beacon of flame already, texts old as the fall of the gods vanishing at last from this world despite the best efforts of dozens of Seruatis¡¯ retirees ¨C many expressly forbidden from joining the fight. There were other battles, small skirmishes, presumably where grudges lifetimes old were finally being given a chance to settle. Several streets were all but filled wall to wall with statues, presumably where Dus had fought, each face a rictus of horror almost as terrifying as the bodies said grins were on, each a grotesque parody of humanity. The warped contingent it seemed had died as ignobly and immediately as expected. What he couldn¡¯t see was Dus herself, not a cause for concern in itself, the gorgon in his experience was the ultimate cockroach, repellent and damn near unkillable. What made her absence a cause for concern was that he couldn¡¯t see either of his brothers. An image came unbidden to his mind, of a gorgon, armed with an automaton¡¯s god-slaying blade, plunging it into the back of a decision paralyzed Janus. Of Nemesis, their trusty guardian, ambushed whilst deep in the throes of battle. Dus probably hadn¡¯t betrayed them, unlike the liches earlier she had enough sense not to throw away Reath itself in the name of vengeance. But if she¡¯d concluded the true battle was going well enough that Nemesis wouldn¡¯t be needed¡­ Forcibly Pheus shoved that thought out of his mind. He had to stick to the plan. He¡¯d already done all he could for the necromancer, now he had to save Seruatis. * ¡°It hurts.¡± Janus sobbed, childlike as he stared at the blade emerging from his gut. The god of choices had never been wounded before. Never so much as got a papercut and the sight of his own golden blood had finally disproved the old myth that gods vomited rainbows. ¡°I know it does.¡± Dus said gently as she held the blade in place, an adamantine grip preventing the weeping god from pulling it free. The gorgon¡¯s gaze flitted to Nemesis, the god of vengeance was just about holding the doorway as the automatons were forced to fight single file to break in. Despite what their mad charge against Tsa¡¯rahlitzek might imply, the machines were not stupid. The imperator had simply been a foe so great that their only chance of killing her was to just rush in and hope one of them got a strike in before she¡¯d turned them all into slag. When given a chance to prepare their attacks were a lot more calculated, like now for example. It would have taken the machines an age to tunnel their way all the way to Seruatis from outside the bounds of Von Mori, and they¡¯d have had to tunnel deep indeed to evade the dryad of the forest¡¯s attention, for Von Mori held no love for the machines and would have gladly collapsed the earth upon them as they worked. The prison beneath the sanctuary was one of Seruatis¡¯ better kept secrets. Just about everyone who lived there knew there was an underground level where the more powerful artifacts were kept safely hidden from those foolish enough to use them. A decent number had figured out that the farms that kept them fed lay even deeper still. What only a select few knew was that the prison and the power source to Seruatis¡¯ great barrier lay beneath even that, and what only the designers of said prison knew was that the two were one and the same. Many had noted over the aeons the tendency for rogue immortals, devils with dreams of conquest and fae lords who¡¯d scammed one mortal too many, to simply disappear, never to be heard from again. Nearly every single one of them had ended up here, the mana, chaos and other esoteric energies their bodies produced all harvested to power Seruatis¡¯ defences and the obelisk. It wasn¡¯t done out of cruelty, such creatures were notoriously hard to kill, and in a couple of cases perhaps impossible, and they were even more difficult to contain. The only way to stop them breaking out instantly was to drain their powers, and to keep draining them until time took them. So when the alarms on the prison had gone off, just about everyone who knew what that meant had made for it. A prison break here would mean chaos not seen since the Era of Invasion. Only Dus, Nem and Jay had made it. The rest dragged into one fight or another. What they¡¯d found was the automatons going from cell to cell and skewering the occupants until they stopped moving. Their fell blades more than up to the task. Anathema swords they¡¯d been called back during the fall, the secrets of their artifice had been lost long before the dwarves had fallen, because the dwarves had wanted to forget. Smiths had taken hammers to their own hands just to ensure they could never make another. Even with anathema blades the automatons had taken casualties, even without hellfire a twenty foot tall devil of rampage was still a twenty foot tall devil of rampage, more than capable of simply pulling the younger machines in half and leaving rents in the armour of the older models. Nem had very nearly killed The Image as the disgraced immortal flickered into being in front of him, ¡°Nem, thank yourselves you¡¯re here. They¡¯re making for the failsafe. You have to-¡° The man snapped back out of reality as an anathema blade cut the air where he¡¯d been standing, presumably fled. Nemesis scowled at the machine, ¡°I name you my enemy.¡± He told it simply, then simply grabbed the blade, yanking it out of the automaton¡¯s arm before shoving it through its chest. ¡°Of course they¡¯re going for the failsafe.¡± Dus groaned, concern in her sea-green gaze, ¡°How long do we have until they reach it?¡± She demanded of Jay, grabbing the wide eyed god by the shoulder to snap him out of his daze. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Things are¡­ foggy.¡± He admitted, ¡°I¡¯m getting conflicting information. They¡¯re ten minutes away, and no time at all.¡± ¡°Ten minutes.¡± Dus scowled, ¡°Nemesis, give me that sword.¡± The god of vengeance handed it to her without a word, stepping out into the corridor to retrieve another one. ¡°Okay here¡¯s the plan. We get to the failsafe first.¡± The gorgon took out a scrying orb, within it two gods were struggling not to get diced apart by an imperator¡¯s claws. ¡°Unless¡­ do you need to go Nem?¡± The god gave the orb a glance, ¡°She remains too much a threat.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s move.¡± Dus ordered. They¡¯d made good time, most of the automatons were busy executing the prisoners, and what few were in their way Nemesis had made very short work of whilst Dus had defended their rear. The failsafe had been either a work of genius or of madness. A simple lever, tuned to the obelisk, that would use all that terrible energy to tear the entire prison from Reath, dumping the entire edifice into the void between worlds to dissipate or be devoured by Oblivion. It would leave as great a wound in the world as Reath had ever known, from which Oblivion¡¯s minions would pour without end. It was still preferable to letting every monster that had disappeared since Seruatis¡¯ founding run wild but not by much. To the relief of the three ancient monsters, the door to the failsafe was unmolested. It was a simple, unenchanted thing, made of oak. Any of the three of them could likely have walked through it without slowing down. Some might call it an obvious weakness but the simple fact was that anything capable of getting to the door would have already overcome enough obstacles that mere enchantment might as well be meaningless. With the corridor clear, Jay had taken the lead, Nem and Dus facing ever growing numbers of automatons now the machines had taken note of the actual gods in their midst rather than merely those with the potential to survive apotheosis. With a smile the god of doors had opened it, the lock sliding in at his touch as he turned to beckon in his brother and oldest foe. The smile fell as one of the automatons waiting inside stepped up behind him to drive an anathema blade through his back. They really were terribly clever when given time to plan. Which was how Dus had found herself cradling her hated foe in her arms, having to stop him pulling a sword out so he wouldn¡¯t bleed to death. ¡°It hurts.¡± Janus repeated, almost amazed, ¡°Why does it hurt?¡± Dus didn¡¯t answer, getting out her scrying orb, the fight was just about wrapped up. Erebus busy teleporting out the last of the gods to stop Tsa¡¯rahlitzek consuming his divinity. ¡°You need to go now Nem.¡± The god of vengeance didn¡¯t even look at her, not risking a moment of distraction as he fought in the doorway, refusing with all his might to let them take so much as a step inside. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± He hissed between gritted teeth. Dus was surprised to see tears of frustration hissing into steam as they met the fires of rage in his eyes. ¡°You have to.¡± She pressed. ¡°I won¡¯t let my brother die.¡± He snapped back, head jerking to the side to avoid a stab before turning to simply bite the blade in half, chewing once and then spitting out the shards with the force of a shotgun blast. ¡°It¡¯s us or the world.¡± The gorgon told him, putting voice to what all three of them already knew. ¡°Then I choose us.¡± Nem screamed. Dus could feel the heat of his hate and rage now, a furnace just starting to get up to temperature. This was the Nemesis who had strode the battlefield with impunity. Who¡¯s hate had burned to death demons. Who had slaughtered armies one man at a time, continuing the carnage long after they¡¯d tried to leave the field. The gorgon considered her options, placing Pheus¡¯ hands on the wound even as he tried to reach for the blade itself. ¡°You keep pressure on the wound. You do not remove the blade.¡± She ordered him sharply as she stood up slowly, rolling back her shoulders as she took a deep breath. ¡°He¡¯ll be safe Nem, my word upon it.¡± This time Nemesis did steal a glance at her. ¡°You are still a mortal. You cannot stop the anathema blades and your gaze means nothing to them.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say I would win. I said that Jay would be safe.¡± Medusa stared him down for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s no good.¡± Nemesis shook his head before ducking another swipe, his reply cutting the humanoid machine in half, kicking the top back into those waiting for their turn. ¡°I can¡¯t keep the door clear long enough for Jay to open it where I need to go.¡± ¡°Then he¡¯ll open another door.¡± She assured him. ¡°Look around you, fool, there is no other door.¡± The wrathful god bellowed, the force of it caving in the chest of the next automaton to brave the doorway. ¡°There will be.¡± Slowly the gorgon brought Jay to his feet, ¡°Okay Jay, I need you to focus for a bit.¡± The wounded deity nodded weakly, ¡°Okay, what do you need?¡± ¡°I need you to open that door.¡± Dus ordered, pointing at a blank section of wall. ¡°There is no door.¡± He protested, staring at Dus as if she were an idiot. ¡°Are you sure?¡± She asked quietly, ¡°Close your eyes, I want you to picture a handle in your hand. Can you feel it?¡± Janus went to protest, words replaced by a gasp of disbelief, ¡°Yes. Yes I do. How-?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t question it.¡± The gorgon said quickly, ¡°Now¡­ open the door. You know where it needs to go.¡± Even Nemesis could only watch in amazement as his brother pulled away a section of wall to reveal the battlefield where Erebus was quietly waiting for the coup de grace. Dus turned to face him, ¡°Go.¡± She told him simply. Nemesis went, the door closing after him, Jay sagging weakly to the ground, power spent, as automatons began to fill the room. The progenitor of all gorgons turned to meet them, stepping over Jay to block their way, her face more amused than fearful as she raised hands sticky with golden godsblood to greet them. ¡°Did you know gorgons can¡¯t use mana?¡± She asked them conversationally. ¡°It¡¯s a terrible flaw, all our magicka goes into our eyes you see¡­ the strange thing is we can use vitae.¡± ¡°We fail to see the relevance. Step away from the deity and you will be spared.¡± One of the automata told her evenly. ¡°I can¡¯t do that.¡± She told it sadly, ¡°And even if I could I wouldn¡¯t. This one is not yours to kill. And it wasn¡¯t really relevant¡­ I mean I could use every once of vitae in my body and it would barely be enough to kill one of you.¡± She raised a golden glowing palm, ¡°Godsblood on the other hand¡­¡± Automatons couldn¡¯t scream, but if they could have they would as the room filled with silver fire. Oathkeeper - Chapter 38 - Aces Three ¡°Sarah.¡± Nemesis taunted, giving the imperator a nod as she discarded Erebus, a backhand sending her apprentice sprawling bonelessly across the baked dirt. The imperator looked the god up and down, ¡°You know me? Then why don¡¯t I know you?¡± There was caution there if not fear. An unknown deity was always a threat. ¡°If you promise to leave now I shall facilitate a portal home.¡± Nemesis promised, the two anathema blades in his hands not yet raised in defence, as if trying to talk down a dangerous animal. In response Tsa¡¯rahlitzek stuck her tongue out, the far too long organ rolling out to reveal a forked tip that began tasting the air, ¡°Olympian¡­ vengeance¡­ hatred¡­ with faded hints of justice. Why Nemmy dear you¡¯ve gone through quite the change.¡± ¡°You¡¯re stalling.¡± Nemesis growled, ¡°It won¡¯t help you.¡± ¡°Not that the change doesn¡¯t suit you dear,¡± The demoness continued, ignoring him completely, ¡°Justice was always your weakest aspect. This suits you better, the thug you were always meant to be.¡± ¡°What are you doing here Sarah?¡± The god of vengeance asked quietly, ¡°This isn¡¯t like you. You don¡¯t do conquest, you barely even do people.¡± ¡°The board changes, and plans change with it.¡± The imperator of shadows and madness shrugged, a hideously casual ¡®what can you do?¡¯ gesture. ¡°You know we can¡¯t let you rule Reath.¡± Nemesis tried gently, ¡°And you¡¯re wounded, please just leave.¡± ¡°He did something.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek continued, almost talking to herself, ¡°He thought I wouldn¡¯t see it but I did. He changed something on Reath. Pawn promotes to queen. I don¡¯t know what it means but I will find out.¡± That brought Nemesis up short, ¡°Obli- Your father changed something on Reath? That¡¯s impossible. Wait¡­ why can I say his name?¡± ¡°The board changes.¡± The imperator repeated, ¡°My apprentice gave it back to him.¡± She gave Erebus¡¯ crumpled form a fond smile, ¡°He has been a good apprentice. If very bad at feigning unconsciousness.¡± Erebus sighed, springing cleanly to his feet, ¡°You can¡¯t blame me. All I have left is a sucker punch.¡± ¡°Oh I don¡¯t blame you. Now shoo dear, the old people need to talk.¡± The necromancer didn¡¯t need telling twice, only pausing to pick up his warstaff, miraculously thrown clear in the blast(s), leaning on it more than a little as he headed for what was hopefully a minimum safe distance. Nemesis watched him flee with interest, not saying a word until he was well and truly outside hearing range, ¡°Why would you want him to have his name back?¡± ¡°Because the status quo was unsustainable. Better it break in our favour.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think Ob- the devourer having their name back is something in our favour. Why do you?¡± ¡°He was static, unchanging, just a cruel and desperate hunger, trapped in that terrible moment of starvation where he ate his very identity. It made for a very hard opponent to fight, one that risked nothing. He¡¯s a person again, able to react, able to change, able to make mistakes. Whereas before he was downright deterministic, which would have been easy to take advantage of if he weren¡¯t stronger than every demon ever made.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek explained to her foe with curious patience. ¡°So you¡¯re pinning everything on the hope that he¡¯ll make an error?¡± Nemesis asked doubtfully. ¡°A forlorn hope beats no hope. Your forebears fled remember? You¡¯ve never seen the Old War, never seen how inevitable our defeat is. I¡¯ve seen it. Whenever I close my damned eyes I see it. Without change we were lost! At least now there is a chance, however small!¡± The sheer force of the outburst rocked Nemesis back on his heels. Imperators didn¡¯t scream, they didn¡¯t rage, and they certainly didn¡¯t yell. It was bad for the image. ¡°Be that as it may,¡± He rallied, ¡°I still cannot allow you to conquer Reath.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek slumped a little, ¡°So be it.¡± Nemesis brought his swords up, ¡°You misunderstand me. I cannot allow you to conquer Reath. I name you my enemy. I name you the enemy of all that walks. I name you the enemy of all that flies. I name you the enemy of all that swims. This world will oppose you until it¡¯s last, desperate dying breath.¡± With a whipcrack Tsa¡¯rahlitzek cut through the air, abandoning her humanoid shape entirely as she threw her entire metaphysical mass at the god, nothing but rage in those purple eyes glowing within the morass of darkness. Nemesis did the wise thing, darting back as fast as his legs would allow, anathema blades carving chunks off of the oncoming monstrosity as he resisted the temptation to press forwards instead. It was what the imperator wanted, for him to try and drive the anathema blades towards her mote. They¡¯d never reach it, he was certain of that, Tsa¡¯rahlitzek would pull the mote deeper within herself, engulf him and then pierce him with about a thousand shadows. So he stayed reactive, just retreating as she shifted forms, a few moments exchanging blows against a classical demoness, the next diving out of the way as a foot bigger than he was tried to crush him like an insect, then fighting what he could only describe as a wheel of blades, and every time making sure to slice away a fraction of her body. He hated fighting like this. His ideal engagement had himself as the oncoming storm, the unending onslaught, but that was rather the point. Noone freely gave a foe their ideal engagement. Nemesis could sense it from her, her intentions, her ideas, everything about how she fought, she was the enemy now. Nothing more. He¡¯d always been good at killing enemies. That was his aspect; retribution. Always last one to the battle but always the last one to leave as well. That was the trouble with retribution, there had to be something take vengeance for first. For now he focused on the wounded Aesir, the gods Erebus had teleported to safety (and boy was that a debt he was not looking forwards to repaying), kin he¡¯d not even known existed, brutalized at Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s hands. And as he fought he kept talking the entire time, turning every aspect of Reath against her one sentence at a time until she would have no choice at all but to become queen of the ashes even if she beat him. ¡°¡­I name you enemy of the rocks. I name you enemy of the wind. I name you enemy of the dead. I name you enemy of lightning. I name you enemy of thunder. I name you enemy of birdsong. I name you enemy of the autumn leaves. I name you enemy of the forests¡­¡± Anything he could think of, as fast as he could say it. So the entire world would know on sight who and what she was. He could feel her rage growing with every word, there was no playful banter to be found here, no condescending comments either. She wanted him dead now with a passion that almost hurt to witness. Worse she was winning. Even with her mote guttering from lack of fuel and wounded besides, even with a body of mana, even ravaged by martyr¡¯s fire, she was still his better. Still faster, still stronger, still fundamentally a greater being than he was in every aspect. It was to be expected, although younger than him she was still a child of the second generation while he was a child of the fourth. Worse still she¡¯d been forged by a conceptual being¡¯s own hands as a weapon, then honed in an endless war against that very being. If Reath itself had not been designed from the very beginning to restrain beings like her then she¡¯d have simply been able to kill him by deciding he should be dead, or just decide about half a kilo of antimatter existed where his chest had been, or a dozen other ways that there was no fighting against. Still he clung on, refusing to accept his fate. Determined to make her pay for his death. Because there was still a victory to be eked out here. If he could just survive until she spent the last of the chaos in her body, until her mote had nothing left on which to run¡­ Like the lady herself had said, a forlorn hope was better than no hope. A moment¡¯s inattention cost him an anathema blade, and a hand, though he was far more upset by the blade. A thorned tendril wrapping around his wrist and tensing as it prepared to reel him in. Nemesis didn¡¯t hesitate, cutting the hand free to let mana-rich godsblood spurt freely upon the ground. The tendril withdrew with nauseating crunching sounds even as the god cut down a half dozen more. He was so close, so terribly close to winning he could almost taste it. And so terribly far. He¡¯d barely been able to hold her off with both hands. With a growl of fury the god summoned fire where his hand should have been, cauterizing the wound close. There would be time for a proper healing after the battle. Slowly the shadowy blob that was Tsa¡¯rahlitzek condensed back to her demonic form, the anathema blade in one hand and his missing appendage in the other, the imperator holding eye contact as she bit off the forefinger and chewed noisily before smearing the golden blood from cheek to cheek in an exaggerated grin. The demon stalked towards him, her weight on the balls of her feet as she all but bounced with excitement. She was no duelist, he could tell that much. Somehow he suspected it wasn¡¯t going to matter. The only reason she was doing this was she wanted the pleasure of spitting him on his own blade. As she moved the shadows moved with her, ignoring the position of the sun to turn to face him. Including his own. A grip every bit as strong as his own grabbed him from behind, pinning him in place as she advanced. ¡°How-?¡± He hadn¡¯t even sensed it, not even for a moment, not even suspected she¡¯d been holding something in reserve. ¡°Oh I brought them to life the moment you arrived dear.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek explained, tapping the blade on her thigh as she approached. ¡°They were just waiting for their moment.¡± ¡°I name you enemy of the light.¡± Nemesis snarled, ¡°I name you the enemy of darkness. I name you the enemy of sha- I name you the enemy of shad- I name you-¡° The imperator patted him gently on the head, ¡°Not even you can turn my aspects against me. Still I think you¡¯re the last of them, everyone else will fall in line once I kill you and harvest your spark.¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Not everyone.¡± Erebus told her. The necromancer appearing behind his master with a pop of displaced air. He had his warstaff in hand, the sphere of annihilation at its tip glowing as the spell prepared to go critical. ¡°I thought we¡¯d already established that little bauble can¡¯t harm me.¡± Tsa¡¯rahlitzek sneered imperiously, not turning away from Nemesis. ¡°That was true. But you¡¯ve not enough chaos left in you to sustain the mote. And mana comes from Reath.¡± Erebus stated, ¡°Ace three. Target: Tsa¡¯rahlitzek, the Goddess of Shadows and Madness.¡± Nemesis wished he could say it was dramatic. That there was a flash of light, an explosion, but all that happened was that Tsa¡¯rahlitzek vanished, and so did the spell sphere, leaving the dying mote suspended in the air. On reflex the god tried to reach for it, to consume it, but his shadow was still holding him in place. It would get no further orders, just standing there as it prevented him from moving an inch. He was ashamed of the fear in his eyes as Erebus advanced on him. Utterly at the mercy of his hated enemy. ¡°You look like crap.¡± The necromancer told him, before his cloak crawled off his back and began to devour the other shadow soundlessly. ¡°Why-?¡± Nemesis began, not even sure what he was asking. ¡°Why wait so long?¡± Erebus asked, to his foe¡¯s relief picking the wrong question, possibly on purpose. ¡°Same reason you arrived so late. I had to give myself the best chance possible of winning.¡± The god of vengeance looked at the dying mote, ¡°By rights this should be your spoils of war¡­¡± He admitted reluctantly. ¡°I don¡¯t need it.¡± Erebus told him simply. ¡°And neither do you.¡± ¡°It represents a considerable store of power, even now.¡± Nemesis pointed out, though he didn¡¯t reach for it. ¡°I don¡¯t eat souls. And kill things that do.¡± The necromancer replied evenly. ¡°I would point out that I am still an order of power stronger than you little death-mage.¡± Erebus¡¯ smile wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place on a crocodile, ¡°So was she.¡± ¡°Your injuries-¡° ¡°Are every bit as earned as the mote. You said they¡¯re my spoils, are you going to go against that with the whole world still watching? There is however one thing you could do for me. ¡°For the saviour of Reath, how could I refuse?¡± Nemesis replied dryly. ¡°Very pettily.¡± Erebus remarked, letting his warstaff fall from his hands, moving instead to cradle the mote in his hands. ¡°About three hundred paces that way is where my apprentices and friends were banished to a pocket dimension. If you could retrieve them, safely, I¡¯d consider it any debt between us paid.¡± ¡°Consider it done.¡± Nem assured him, walking away, though he took the time to retrieve his mangled hand. Slowly Erebus sunk to his knees, tiredly moving to a more comfortable position as he examined the mote in his hand, ¡°Get it over with master. You¡¯re not going to be able to wait me out.¡± The speck of light flickered then dispersed, spending the very last of its power until a demoness lay in his arms. Starved to the point of emaciated, her horns broken and her skin crimson rather than the grey he¡¯d grown used to, but unmistakably Tsa¡¯rahlitzek. ¡°You can¡¯t blame me for trying.¡± The demoness laughed, surprisingly carefree given the grave danger she was in. Erebus had beheld imps with more power to their name than his master had now. ¡°In hindsight I shouldn¡¯t have trained you to be so perceptive.¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t totally blind before that either.¡± ¡°True enough.¡± She took in a deep breath then released it, ¡°I¡¯m not going to beg for my life.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t ask you to.¡± Erebus promised, ¡°But you have to know I can¡¯t spare you. You know too much to remain powerless long. And you won¡¯t ever stop doing what you believe is right.¡± ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s another lesson I shouldn¡¯t have taught you, but I know I can¡¯t take credit for that one. Still it is fitting I think. I was the greatest weapon my father ever made, only to be aimed at his own throat. And you are the greatest weapon I have ever made. My grand masterpiece.¡± She laughed weakly, ¡°There is a beauty in the symmetry.¡± ¡°Pawn promotes to queen.¡± She continued, ¡°My father¡¯s message to Reath. Well I¡¯ve promoted my own pawn. Find his queen. Kill it. You have to.¡± ¡°Anything else?¡± The necromancer asked softly as he picked the anathema blade up from the ground next to him. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek laughed again, ¡°Oh so much else. Far more than we have time for.¡± ¡°You know, for all the torments, I was as happy as I¡¯ve ever been in your world. Everything made sense there.¡± Erebus admitted, ¡°The order of it appealed to me.¡± ¡°Sentiment.¡± The demoness spat. ¡°Hypocrite.¡± Her apprentice chided. ¡°Yes.¡± There was nothing more to say after that, or perhaps there was simply too much. Either way Erebus pressed the anathema blade home between her ribs to pierce her heart. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s eyes widened then went still. If Erebus¡¯ friends were surprised to see the body in his arms as they approached him, they didn¡¯t show it. Erebus however did get a surprise, putting the body of his final mentor down to almost tackle-hug Lana, only stopping short when he realised he wouldn¡¯t survive the impalement involved. The necromancer¡¯s jaw hung limp as he tried to find the words to fill his many questions. ¡°You needed the motivation.¡± The devil of guardianship, first and likely last of her kind explained, reaching out to ruffle his hair, only to pull her hand away with a frown. ¡°What are you going to do now?¡± He asked her, very slowly and carefully pulling her into an embrace and even more slowly being hugged back. ¡°Well with my master dead I¡¯m an unbound demon. The wise thing to do would be to flee Reath immediately before someone tries to enslave or kill me. Unless you want to keep me around?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to bind a friend.¡± Erebus told her, slowly disentangling himself. ¡°You mind watching over the body for a bit? I don¡¯t trust those watching not to try and grab it.¡± Lana turned an annoyed eye to the skies, ¡°Cowards.¡± ¡°Or otherwise occupied.¡± Erebus said reasonably, ¡°Or simply unable to get their hands on enough mana to teleport. Even those who knew something was coming wouldn¡¯t have known where and when, it¡¯s hard to get armies into position in those circumstances.¡± His former bodyguard didn¡¯t answer as she stalked over to protect Tsa¡¯rahlitzek body. It was a token gesture really, there was little they¡¯d be able to do if some ancient power decided to simply teleport her away. Dead bodies were ultimately just objects, unable to resist magic as a living being could. Still the token gesture worked. The saviour of Reath had declared the body off-limits, no one was churlish to deny the necromancer what would doubtless become the foundation of a masterpiece. Lana stared down at her master¡¯s fallen form, tears not quite falling. It¡¯s clich¨¦ to say that in death a person looked peaceful and Tsa¡¯rahlitzek was more than happy to say she defied cliches. In death she just looked annoyed. More than most the devil knew what the consequences of today would be. No imperator had ever fallen before, huge swathes of the Hells now lay undefended. Demons would die in droves as they fled to the surrounding worlds. Many would try and flee here. But those were problems for another time, for now she just had to bodyguard a corpse. Back with Erebus, it was apparently Natalya¡¯s turn to come under the necromancer¡¯s regard. Normally they¡¯d have been crowding him, everyone trying to get a word in edgeways but the separation they¡¯d always had to fight their way over was now a sheer cliff-face. Killing a god in all but name would do that. Something of that thought was betrayed in Erebus¡¯ gaze, and perhaps Natalya¡¯s. Both of them knew what the necromancer¡¯s future would look like. There would be no further grand escapades now. God-slayers didn¡¯t get to be a curiosity or an edge-case that evaded the rules. They didn¡¯t share quiet drinks with friends, because those friends wouldn¡¯t live long for fear of what secrets might be told to them. If he were very lucky he might be permitted to retire to Seruatis or simply be sent crusading into the Old War never to return. In the necromancer¡¯s own words, he was seldom ever lucky. The silence held between them well past the point of uneasy, never quite reaching companionable until finally Natalya could bear it no more. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°As I think I can be.¡± Erebus admitted slowly, smiling as he said it. ¡°And you? You had no trouble protecting everyone?¡± ¡°It was touch and go for a few moments.¡± Natalya admitted, ¡°Without Amara I doubt I could have stopped that much radiation. I don¡¯t think anyone could.¡± ¡°¡¯Mar knows heat.¡± The archmage agreed. ¡°So that cloning spell¡­ I hate to ask about an ace but are they really all dead?¡± ¡°To the last.¡± Erebus nodded, ¡°It was going to be my last gambit if the sphere failed to kill her, a few hundred angry wraiths feeding on her until they went pop from over-eating and enough Forsaken that even she¡¯d struggle to hew through them all.¡± ¡°So warcrimes basically.¡± She joked, though it was clear her heart wasn¡¯t in it. ¡°What will you do now?¡± ¡°Take her home I think. For all she was a monster, she was my teacher.¡± ¡°You tend to get that a lot.¡± ¡°True.¡± His smile softened further, ¡°Go home Nat, go see your daughter. Noone¡¯s ever died thinking they spent too much time with the people they love.¡± The necromancer took it for the gentle dismissal it was as Erebus turned to face Amara, taking the initiative this time. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll see each other again, old friend.¡± Amara nodded, ¡°Hellbound?¡± She asked him. ¡°Something like that. At minimum this is where our paths diverge. You should be able to finish the Rite now, and Qrilotesh perhaps needs a friend more than I do.¡± ¡°Some would say that¡¯s extremely arrogant of you.¡± ¡°And they¡¯d be right. I also suspect for all our work here today I¡¯ll be persona non grata at Vulcanus, or perhaps because of it. There¡¯s no way they¡¯ll let a god-killer within a kilometre of Qrilotesh.¡± The vampire chuckled, raising a finger like a fencer acknowledging a touch. ¡°I did always wonder what the adventuring life was like. Got to admit I hated every second of it.¡± She paused awkwardly, ¡°Dammit I don¡¯t know what to say, it¡¯s all so sudden.¡± ¡°Say nothing.¡± Erebus told her, placing a hand on her shoulder and trying to ignore the way she flinched, ¡°People will assume you¡¯re wise and inscrutable.¡± ¡°Has that ever once worked for you?¡± The vampire asked, the gleam in her eyes saying she already knew the answer. ¡°Not once. I always have to say something.¡± Next came Weaver of New Tales, the arachni more than a little shrunk in on herself. Like Natalya before her she was struggling to come to terms with the realisation that she had been totally eclipsed by her student. ¡°Please don¡¯t be afraid of me.¡± Erebus told her, pain in his eyes, ¡°You have to know I would never hurt any of you.¡± ¡°Not on purpose, no.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± He rubbed at his face as if he could simply massage aware the exhaustion that moment of comprehension brought crashing down. ¡°I take it you¡¯re done with adventure?¡± ¡°I hope not, but certainly something much lower stakes would be nice.¡± Weaver admitted, bobbing from side to side nervously. ¡°Well I¡¯m going to be out of circulation for a little while so you should be safe there.¡± ¡°You know there¡¯s something bothering me. Near the end you were throwing your lives away just to buy seconds yet this one you didn¡¯t¡­ and the only reason I can think of why you wouldn¡¯t is that you were-¡° ¡°A coward?¡± Erebus interrupted, perhaps more angrily than he¡¯d intended. ¡°More than you could ever know, teacher. Now please, let me speak to my apprentices before I take Tsa¡¯rahlitzek home.¡± Weaver didn¡¯t say anymore, just fled for the safety of Amara, Natalya and Lana represented. It hurt, which was fine. Finally just Holly and Alec stood before him, and wasn¡¯t it ironic that only the two young ones were the only people not looking at him like he was a serious case of bad luck just waiting for someone to happen to. ¡°You¡¯re leaving.¡± Holly asked, taking the lead. The dryad was just about managing to hold back tears, unlike Alec. That probably explained the teen¡¯s silence, the young man having to fight hard not to let his feelings leak over to Holly and cause a feedback loop that would reduce them both to sobbing. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯m dangerous.¡± Erebus said with a shrug, waiting patiently as Holly got her thoughts in order. ¡°You were always dangerous.¡± ¡°True. But I was also always dangerous and far away. At least to those that mattered. A rogue necromancer is one thing. An escaped criminal is one thing. Even a killer of demon lords is something people could tolerate the existance of. Someone who killed a god is another matter entirely.¡± ¡°You¡¯re telling me your reward for saving Reath is people will try to kill you? That¡¯s just unfair.¡± The dryad protested, ¡°and ridiculous!¡± ¡°Oh it won¡¯t start with death threats. At first it will be offers of protection, requests for me to pick sides, lavish offers of retirement. Things like that. But soon enough, when I refused to take myself off the board there would be attempts to remove me.¡± ¡°Where does that leave us?¡± Alec croaked out, wiping away at his cheeks. ¡°In a rather precarious position I fear. Even if I hadn¡¯t declared you my apprentices with all these scrying spells on us,¡± Erebus gestured vaguely at the sky, ¡°it would not be hard for people to find out. People will expect or fear great things from you. My advice is to ignore them.¡± Holly went to speak but stopped when Erebus shook his head. ¡°My burdens are not your burdens. You have no obligation to pick them up.¡± The archmage continued, ¡°I¡¯m sure you will achieve great things in time, but that doesn¡¯t mean becoming a killer, a warrior, or any other variation on the theme. Ignore them all and just focus on discovering who you are both meant to be.¡± ¡°Is there any advice you can give us going forwards?¡± Holly entreated, trying hard not to wring her hands. ¡°Just to be kind, I suppose. To remember that being na?ve is not a crime, for all that those who take advantage of the na?ve wish us to believe it so. To recognise that you will make mistakes, and to try not to ever repeat the same mistake¡­¡± He shook his head, ¡°There really is too much for a single conversation. I fear I was a poor teacher.¡± ¡°Where will you go?¡± Alec asked, practically a plea. ¡°Oh I think I¡¯ll spend a little time fighting the Old War, somewhere no one knows me. Give all this drama a chance to fade, then return from time to time, to remind the old monsters what fear feels like.¡± Erebus told him, turning to walk away before adding, ¡°and perhaps to occasionally visit old friends too. Have a good life you two.¡± Slowly, feeling the many unseen eyes on him, he delicately lifted up the body of the god he¡¯d slain, opened a portal to the hells and was gone. Oathkeeper - Epilogue They stood and stared at the space where the portal had been for a long time. There was an expectancy to the silence as the scrying spells upon them fell away one by one. It was Nem who broke the silence, when the scrying orbs were down to one. He would afterall need a door home. ¡°He¡¯s gone for a walk. He may be some time.¡± The god of vengeance said with something almost approaching respect before he realized he hadn¡¯t carried his audience with him. ¡°Noone respects the classics.¡± He sighed, taking in the mages, demon and children, ¡°Those of you who can should visit me in Seruatis. I have work for you that I think you will find appealing.¡± Natalya nodded stiffly to him, ¡°It may take some time, we shall need to get the children to safety first.¡± ¡°Of course. I well remember how protective mortals are of the young. But try not to linger overlong. Ah¡­ there¡¯s my door.¡± Then Nem too vanished, taking a single step to move over a thousand miles away. None of the six seemed particularly inclined to stay standing, the day had been beyond exhausting for all it was only just half done. Still there was no putting things off forever. It took maybe an hour for the Council of Mages to get people to the area. Wounds were tended to and a lawyer from the Path of Summoning deployed to negotiate Lana back through a portal to the Hells. Going from the lawyer¡¯s pensive expression and Lana¡¯s smirk the devil had gotten a good price for it. Weaver, as an ambassador for Ariadne, was the only one exempted from debriefings and got to spend several days in the lap of luxury while every detail was teased out of the others, or at least every detail they were prepared to admit to. It would be some time before any of them saw each other again. * Seruatis was close to in ruins. As soon as Saiko and Agh¡¯zak had noticed the smoke towering into the sky, which had admittedly taken a while Von Mori¡¯s canopy being as dense as it was, they¡¯d broken into a run, not stopping until they reached the corpse-strewn streets of their home. It was not the triumphant return they¡¯d been expecting and the news would just keep getting worse. Over half the population were dead, including every single dragon that had been there, all of them children entrusted to Seruatis to grow up safe from dragon hunters and rogue alchemists. The ghoul raid had made off with an archmage¡¯s ransom in dragon-flesh, enough to last them centuries to come. Or at least it would have if Nemesis weren¡¯t currently watching them by scrying orb, quietly listing enemies one name at a time. Erasima, the last troll, was dead, though there was at least a hopeful note there. When her home had been invaded she¡¯d had the forethought to collapse the roof, exposing her to the sun¡¯s rays. With gorgons more or less accepted citizens the world over, spells to turn stone back to flesh had become advanced indeed and the gigantic stone statue the troll had become was being protected from the elements until a mage could be hired in strong enough to reverse the change. Beyond one very happy surprise that was where the good news ended, and the worst of it was privy only to a small cabal of the elder residents, meeting deep beneath Seruatis. ¡°It¡¯s not good.¡± Pheus admitted, ¡°There¡¯s no way we can maintain both the barrier and The Waxing Dawn.¡± ¡°Do we even know why they killed the prisoners?¡± Dus demanded, the gorgon lounging on a couch just large enough for her tail. ¡°A couple of reasons come to mind. One to cause exactly this. A state of permanent vulnerability. Or two they were killing anyone who even could maintain a divine spark.¡± Pheus shrugged, ¡°It¡¯s been a long time, and only the dwarves ever knew exactly how their threat assessment worked.¡± The gorgon worried at her lip, teeth drawing blood which she swiftly licked away, ¡°We can always restart Waxing Dawn, but we can¡¯t restart the barrier if we¡¯re dead. It has to have priority.¡± She frowned as she caught Pheus¡¯ crestfallen look. ¡°What were you hoping for me to say?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The god of dreams admitted, ¡°I guess something miraculous. You¡¯ve defied the odds before, I guess I was hoping you would do it again.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°No miracles here.¡± Dus assured him, making a show of shaking out her sleeves. ¡°¡­What you did for Jay- Thank you.¡± Pheus blurted, unable to hold it in a second longer. ¡°I didn¡¯t do it for him and certainly didn¡¯t do it for you.¡± The gorgon spat, ¡°Don¡¯t imagine for even an instant that yesterday made us friends.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t. But all the same, thank you.¡± Dus looked away, fighting herself and losing as she asked, ¡°How is he?¡± It was a good question. Noone beyond his brothers had even so much as seen Jay since the battle, and it had been made more than clear that anyone who went further than knocking on the door would be met with extreme hostility, Seruatis¡¯ laws be damned. ¡°Maimed. The anathema blade¡¯s wound refuses to heal and the martyr¡¯s fire has left him scarred. But he¡¯s alive.¡± Pheus told her, ¡°Panacea won¡¯t touch either of them though, and we¡¯re fresh out of healing deities.¡± ¡°What about our new guests?¡± The gorgon asked, trying not to sound too interested in the answer. Under normal circumstances the arrival of two new gods in Seruatis, one in the process of bleeding out, would have remained the main item of news for a decade if not longer. As things were it was barely even a footnote. ¡°Recovering. The god¡¯s awake but refusing to talk to us. The goddess hasn¡¯t recovered, or let go of Gungnir. I think we¡¯d have to remove her fingers to do it.¡± ¡°They¡¯re cautious, that¡¯s wise.¡± Dus noted, ¡°Reath thought the Aesir dead and gone, people will be looking now. I surprised they were willing to risk The Rocking though.¡± Pheus snorted out a laugh. The gorgon was showing off by naming Gungnir in the common tongue. ¡°Noone has ever accused the Aesir of cowardice, not twice at any rate.¡± ¡°You know a couple extra divine sparks would have Jay back to his old self fairly quick.¡± The gorgon observed coolly, turning to look at him once more, and there was more than a hint of accusation in her stony gaze. ¡°I love my brother. I¡¯m not murdering a couple of kids to save him.¡± The god of dreams replied firmly. ¡°Not even with the prophecy in play? Because if saw that scrying orb right, the painter most definitely slew the painting.¡± ¡°You noticed that too huh?¡± Pheus rubbed at his eyes. ¡°Yeah we¡¯re further along than I¡¯d like. I assumed we¡¯d have years at least to prepare.¡± ¡°So what are you going to do?¡± ¡°Keep preparing.¡± * Far, far from Reath, Erebus finished stepping through the portal to find a world in chaos. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s home had never been an ordered affair at the best of times, having been dreamed into existence by the great imperator. Now in her absence it was outright disintegrating around him. Well nearly all of it. A path led off into the distance, built from the one real thing that master of shadows and madness had ever needed. Her great library lay set end to end in total defiance of gravity, because gravity had only been a delusion she¡¯d imposed on the surrounding space. Still carrying his master¡¯s fallen form Erebus followed the path she¡¯d lain out for him, it was a long and winding road, and he was fairly sure she¡¯d added the loops to try and mess with his perspective, or perhaps just to show off. He didn¡¯t know how long he¡¯d been walking before he finally saw the end. A checkered black and white board. There weren¡¯t many pieces on it. Just two in fact. Two kings in black, one cleaved in half, the other still standing tall and proud. The symbology wasn¡¯t exactly subtle, whatever this was it was intended as his reward for killing her. The mere sight of it made him turn back. He certainly didn¡¯t want to be rewarded, not for this. Alas when he tried to go back the way he came the path had come apart, the books now floating aimlessly in the void. She really had thought of every eventuality. Victory or defeat. Well, every eventuality except the one they found themselves in. With infinite care Erebus placed his master¡¯s body down on one of the white tiles, surprised at just how small the grey form seemed now. Perhaps she¡¯d only ever been a towering figure in his mind? Then, and only then, he let the illusion drop. His cheeks sallowed, his hair whitened and fell out in clumps. Teeth decayed, skin leathered and muscles shrivelled. His head was the worst, a terrible blow had caved in part of his skull. Natalya would have been the first to know he hadn¡¯t survived the battle. Her necromantic senses screaming to her that before her stood an undead of not inconsiderable power. Lana had likely been the second, when her attempt to ruffle his hair had gotten her claws sticky with grey matter. He hoped she¡¯d be okay, pride demons did not take failure well. Then had likely come Amara, as his body had begun to cool in the aftermath. And finally Weaver, when he¡¯d cut her off before she could announce her suspicions to the world. He hoped Alec and Holly hadn¡¯t figured it out. And he was dying, for the final time. He¡¯d had no phylactery to store his soul, no time to prepare his body, little more than a desperate need to hang on until the fight was over. And the fight was done now, and so was he. Nonetheless, as the magic faded from his body, Erebus pressed on. There was a small spell sphere at the base of the standing king, and he had a fairly good idea what the spell was. There wasn¡¯t anything magnificent or extravagant in the crafting. No runes in dead languages, no glyphs etched into gold. There didn¡¯t need to be for a spell this simple. It only took a tiny pulse of mana to activate it. His master¡¯s voice ringing through the void. ¡°Greetings apprentice, or perhaps I should call you my killer? Either way if you¡¯re hearing this then my plan has obviously succeeded. Congratulations, you¡¯re the hero you always wanted to be. No need to thank me. ¡°If all has gone to plan then Reath shall be reeling from the damage I have inflicted. You must step up and fill that power vacuum. Few will seek to challenge you. You must beckon in a period of great unity for your world, help it heal and then make it ready to join the Old War. ¡°I wish I could say I saw you renaming my father coming, and I wonder if you even intended to do so. Either way the opportunity it represents cannot be overstated. This is all I ever wanted, and I thank you for it. A chance for the Hells to finally know safety and peace. Now¡­ stop moping. You have work to do.¡± Erebus just stared at the empty orb for a few moments once it had stopped talking, then he just laughed, and laughed, and laughed until finally he could laugh no more. Oathkeeper Q&A So is Erebus actually going to die, or did his master prepare something for him to heal himself? There was nothing prepared for him to heal himself. Both of them dying was the one scenario Tsa''rahlitzek did not prepare for, because of this Erebus is not just dead but very dead, having used up his undeath as well so he could disappear off into the sunset - thus providing something for ne''erdowells to be nervous of for decades to come. What will the focus of the next volume be on? Will Alec finally get some time to grow strong? I''m going to answer both of these questions at once as the answers are one and the same. Yes, Book 3 will finally be Alec''s time to shine, and will be much lower stakes than the previous two. In it I intend to properly flesh out the magic system of Reath which has existed as a set of notes since Book 1 but has never really had a good time to be relayed to the audience but Alec and Holly finally getting formal training will be as good an opportunity as I could hope for. This is my fault entirely for having plots with ticking timers constantly pushing things forwards. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. There will be other hanging plot threads I intend to address, we''ll see the growing efforts to free Von Mori, the consequences of Agh''zak breaking one of the aetheric chains binding his people (complete with a genuinely unforgivable pun) and the beginnings of an attempt to resettle the Underreath. I might not manage all of these but I certainly intend to. How big a part will the prophecy play in the next book? Almost none. There will be a few bits and bobs in the background, and certainly a lot of people will be reacting to the prophecy itself. But the prophecy is more intended as a big heavy threat just waiting to happen for now. What happened/What will happen to Lutan? Well Lutan''s in a spot of bother and is going to face a very difficult choice. Like it or not bardic magic has made his life a hell of a lot easier over the years but he''ll no longer be able to pass various magical mind scans etc without losing his position and likely his life as well. He''s going to face a choice, either lose the memories and go back to having to fight through mortal means or live in constant danger of discovery and death. More than that as someone who hates magic, he''s going to have to come to terms with the fact he has become the very thing he swore to destroy. What about Von Mori? Well her forest is doing everything in its power to free her, but forests aren''t exactly huge on mobility so they''re going to have to contract the work out. If only they knew someone full of retired heroes who''s just love one last moment to shine before they die... Oathmaker; The Slow Waltz Down - Prologue Tsa¡¯rahlitzek, the last surviving child of the conceptual entity Oblivion, greatest and oldest of the imperators, the ancient rulers of the Hells, lay dead, slain by a mortal mage of all things. On the world of Reath fools celebrated, for the demons of the infinite hells had long sought to conquer the fragile orb and never before had such a blow been bestowed on their great enemy. The wiser of Reath¡¯s great powers fretted and prepared. Great swathes of the Hells now lay undefended, and war always caused displacement and Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s domain had been vast indeed. It would have been bad enough if she¡¯d held territory close to Reath in the byzantine geography that made up the plenitude of dimensions that lingered, or perhaps malingered, into the modern era. But she had held the Outer Reaches, the very limits where the Hells bordered upon the Great Void where only Oblivion dwelled. Without her express permission and effort mortals and even most demons would simply be unable to exist where they were incapable of enforcing such ephemeral concepts as physics upon the void, and all such demons were fleeing as reality itself dissipated into nothing around them. It was a testament perhaps to just how implacable a will the fallen imperator had possessed that the worlds had persisted even this long now that she had fallen. The other imperators, her peers if not quite her equals, braced themselves for the worst. Of Oblivion itself pouring into the Hells like a tidal wave, hollowing out and devouring worlds with near impunity as they tried to rally enough to create a new set of borders. The worst did not come. For a week they waited, and for a week the sword did not fall, until at last curiosity got the better of great powers that should, perhaps, have known better. Jr¡¯agenthek led the charge into the expanding void. The Imperator of Order and Light was, conventionally, the strongest of the twelve imperators that yet remained, and, somewhat paradoxically, had been closest to the now fallen Imperator of Shadow and Madness. Both factors that would have easily allowed him to bully his way to the vanguard if a third factor hadn¡¯t guaranteed it; the complete lack of other volunteers. It was a rare occurrence for an imperator to be astonished. Creatures of that sort of age seldom even managed surprise, the weight of ennui was far too great. Nonetheless Jr¡¯agenthek was astonished, astounded even, for, in the Great Void that had once been Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s domain, the imperators found their worst fears made manifest. Oblivion was already deep in the empty not-quite-space, hovering as an amorphous blob of hungry intent over a small shard of reality that was just managing to persist. It wasn¡¯t eating. That was the first major shock. Oblivion consumed everything in its path, without heed of what it was eating for Oblivion was hunger, perhaps even had been Hunger back before the Old War had even begun, before desperation had compelled it to eat its very identity. The second shock was the object, or rather set of objects, that Oblivion wasn¡¯t eating. It wasn¡¯t much, just a small shard of stone yet to dissolve into nothingness, significant only because of just how much of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s will it must have been imbued with to linger so long, the long cold corpse of a crimson demoness so weak an imp could have overpowered her, and the fading remnants of a mortal soul that was collapsing in on itself. Nothing of any significance, at least until the moment he saw the demoness¡¯ face. Divine beings, of which imperators technically counted, had a rather strict hierarchy in terms of power and while in life Tsa¡¯rahlitzek had not been of the calibre that could get away with statements like ¡®And let there be light.¡¯, she¡¯d at least have been able to ask why there should be light without fear of reprimand. In death she was a faded waif, her horns broken, the red of her skin drab and fading into the pallor of pink and if she¡¯d seen a meal this side of the century it would have been a miracle. Often when people spoke of the dead, they talked about how they looked peaceful, perhaps even happy. Tsa¡¯rahlitzek just looked annoyed. Jr¡¯agenthek did not get long to ponder this strange tableau. A ripple passed through the mass of Oblivion before it extended a tendril in a manner the ancient demon could only describe as tentative and just a little bit sneaky. Oblivion was devouring space itself to reduce the distance it needed to reach. ¡®No.¡¯ The thought echoed through the void and something impacted the grasping tendril at speed, becoming just a little bit less in its impact with the end of all things, but Oblivion darted back as if stung. The imperator had to laugh at the sight. The decaying remains of the soul had swatted away Oblivion¡¯s hand as if they had been an errant child reaching for cookies. The sheer incongruity of it nearly had him clutching his sides. He wasn¡¯t quite sure who the mortal had been, though he certainly had his suspicions, but it¡¯s behaviour certainly presented an opportunity. For all he and his fellow imperator had had their differences, he had less than no desire to watch her corpse be devoured. With the soul keeping Oblivion at bay it might be possible to steal away her body for a burial or some other death rite. They¡¯d have to invent one. No imperator had ever died before and for all it had been an ever looming possibility none of them had ever discussed the disposition of their remains. A mistake in hindsight. Slowly Jr¡¯agenthek drifted down towards his comrade¡¯s body, glancing behind himself to make sure his fellow imperators were still present and ready to intervene. While Oblivion could likely slay any three of them, all twelve were beyond even its boundless appetite, at least for now. The Imperator of Order¡¯s approach was even more cautious than Oblivion¡¯s had been, ready to flee at the slightest twitch from the hungry, lightless blob. Which was why he got blindsided by the fragmenting soul bowling into him with surprising force. A soul, even in the final stages of dissolution as this one was, always presented a considerable store of energy and this one was expending itself with almost rabid violence. It didn¡¯t have the energy to injure, maim or kill Jr¡¯agenthek but he certainly felt the impact. As another ¡®No.¡¯ echoed through infinity. He was pretty sure it was all it was even capable of saying at this point. ¡°Tenacious little thing isn¡¯t it?¡± A friendly voice said from next to him. Jr¡¯agenthek chuckled, turning to agree with the speaker only to let out a shrill scream at the sight of Oblivion that would certainly have ruined his reputation for implacable calm, as befitted his aspect, if his fellow imperators hadn¡¯t fled the moment Oblivion had flickered next to him without warning. The winner of the Primordial War made a surprisingly dashing figure now he¡¯d bothered to adopt a humanoid form. Ruggedly scarred with skin like leather, he would have been the toast of many an inn or battleground campfire, at least until the moment he opened his mouth. There was no disguising his true nature then, it was a toothless maw, its depth as infinite as his hunger. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°I am remembering myself again.¡± Oblivion told him companionably as he continued to just watch the fading soul. ¡°Calm child, I am not going to eat you. Not here and now at least.¡± If anything Jr¡¯agenthek looked even more afraid at that statement. The idea of Oblivion not eating something. It defied the primordial¡¯s very nature. ¡°Why?¡± He managed to gasp out. ¡°I vaguely recall it being impolite to eat the other guests at a funeral.¡± Oblivion answered distantly, ¡°Did I remember wrong?¡± Most creatures would have put an edge of threat into those words but the question was genuine and for just a moment the imperator felt a pang of sympathy for his ancient enemy. ¡°No. I just never expected¡­¡± Perhaps wisely he chose not to finish that sentence, allowing silence to settle. Strangely he trusted Oblivion¡¯s word. There was a great honesty to its nature, endless nothingness and surcease neverending, he wasn¡¯t even sure it could lie. Then again he hadn¡¯t thought it could choose not to consume something either. ¡°I was never very good at creating things. Not even in my image.¡± Oblivion admitted suddenly, jerking Jr¡¯agenthek from his thoughts. The oldest monster smiled sadly as he stared at the corpse with its valiant defender. ¡°They never once turned out how I wanted them to.¡± ¡°Then why bother?¡± Jr¡¯agenthek asked politely, his own eyes never once leaving his foe. ¡°To do things I can not. Defying oneself is¡­ difficult. To do it continually a torture. And yet failure and failure. I try to make scouts, I create a ravening horde that nearly eats the food that should be mine.¡± Oblivion didn¡¯t shrug, but the imperator suspected only because he hadn¡¯t yet remembered how. There was another long silence after that. ¡°She was a terrible weapon.¡± The primordial stated flatly, ¡°and an absolutely dreadful daughter. I suspect I was an even worse father.¡± ¡°You miss her.¡± Jr¡¯agenthek observed softly. ¡°She was fond of you.¡± Oblivion continued, ignoring him completely, ¡°and of him.¡± The monster gestured vaguely at the soul still guarding Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s hell-ly remains. ¡°She wasn¡¯t fond of much.¡± ¡°She was fond of you too.¡± The demon told him, surprisingly himself with the realisation. ¡°I sincerely doubt that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure of it. She would never have known what to do without an enemy, and what other enemy could hope to compare to you?¡± Oblivion puzzled upon that for a little while, deciding to change the topic rather than even try to answer that. ¡°I¡¯d be obliged if you killed the soul protecting her.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t?!¡± Sure Jr¡¯agenthek had been impressed by the bravery and sheer temerity of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s defender but the idea that Oblivion couldn¡¯t kill it had not even once crossed his mind. ¡°I owed it a debt that I repaid by not seeking reprisal against it when it swore to kill me.¡± Oblivion explained simply. ¡°Huh. So it is him. I¡¯d suspected but I wasn¡¯t sure. Looked like he was trying to fulfil that oath too.¡± Jr¡¯agenthek mused, finally turning his gaze back to the soul that had once been Erebus, slayer of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek. ¡°No. Whoever he was he was gone before I got here. There¡¯s nothing there now but defiance for the sake of defiance.¡± The demon laughed, just a touch bitterly but with humour too, ¡°A worthy apprentice indeed. It would probably be a kindness to finish the poor thing off at this point.¡± Oblivion smiled at that, as what it wanted to do and what it should do came back into perfect alignment. ¡°Then it would not count as harming it?¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing left there to harm.¡± With that Oblivion surged forward, returning to shapelessness as it sought a mid-conversation snack. There was a flash of steel and the mass recoiled, writhing back into the shape of a man as it faced its new foe. It would be a lie to say she¡¯d been unannounced. She was always there. Always watching. Always waiting. If there were a single being that could match Oblivion in patience then it was the lady with the scythe. Death slowly shrugged out of her cloak, letting the fabric, old and worn to the point most moths would have declined to eat it, fall away into the aether. To poor Jr¡¯agenthek it was all he could do not to flee. The Primordial War was a legend even amongst imperators and there were few battles quite so legendary as when Death had sought Oblivion¡¯s neck. She¡¯d lost. But as he watched the youngest primordial smooth the dent that single blow had left in her small hand-scythe, sharpening it with her nails in the process, he couldn¡¯t help suspect he was about to witness a second round. Then the moment passed as the fading soul began to swirl and bounce around her, it¡¯s ethereal light, which his eyes chose to interpret as blue despite him knowing it was no colour at all, energised by her very presence. Then, with as little warning as when she¡¯d appeared, both Death and the fading soul were gone. ¡°She was always overprotective.¡± Oblivion grumbled, staring with a gluttonous longing at the spot where Death had been. Now there had been a meal worth a war. Despite that the monster¡¯s gaze softened as he stared down at now undefended body of Tsa¡¯rahlitzek. There was no hunger in it for once as he lowered down to the shrinking fragment of stone. For a moment Jr¡¯agenthek considered protesting but Oblivion looked so mournful he simply didn¡¯t have the heart as the oldest monster slowly cradled his daughter in his arms. He could see it written on his face as Oblivion grit his teeth to defy his very being for just a few moments as he held her for the first and last time. And he saw the moment as that control slipped and his oldest rival crumbled into less than dust. Oblivion couldn¡¯t cry. It went against its nature to let something like tears escape it. Nothing could escape it. All that meant was that the sobs wracking the primordial¡¯s chest were dry ones. Jr¡¯agenthek didn¡¯t pat Oblivion on the shoulder; he quite enjoyed existing. But he did stand there and watch in silent sympathy. Now at last he understood the real reason the greatest monster the multiverse had ever beheld had spared him. He recalled the many times the battle against Oblivion had looked utterly hopeless. When they¡¯d been outmanoeuvred or not enough of them had made it to the battle in time. He recalled how every single time Tsa¡¯rahlitzek, who refused to fight alongside them, Tsa¡¯rahlitzek who could impossibly survive her father¡¯s inimical touch, would enter the battle like the wrath of the god she very much was and drive Oblivion back into the Great Void. They¡¯d been forbidden from following, from witnessing the great battles where she would face down Oblivion alone and emerge after an age, exhausted, sometimes even scarred, but impossibly alive. He remembered how after Oblivion had devoured its identity she¡¯d stopped following it into the Great Void. Now he knew how. Even monsters got lonely sometimes. * Pawn promotes to Queen. It was the message that had driven the fallen imperator to her insane attempt to seize Reath itself. It was the first act Oblivion had taken upon regaining its sense of self. Only two people bar Oblivion itself still knew it had even happened, the rest had already perished. Of those two, one was a minor god, a faded, weak pretender to power already fled back to hiding, and it had far too many tasks and far too few resources and tools to direct towards them. The message¡¯s meaning would go unsought for now. The other, naturally, was the message¡¯s intended recipient. The message hadn¡¯t been a subtle one. There was no need for a deep grasp of chess tactics and strategy. Even a remedial grasp of the rules would suffice. Stop being a pawn. Return to being the most powerful piece on the board. It would be a quick process, a century at most, maybe just a decade if they were prepared to take more risks than was wise. Still there were decisions to take. The simplest was what to do with their current identity. It was tempting to just ditch it, fake their death for good measure, and go about collecting every object of power who¡¯s location he had chronicled but not sought over his extremely long life. He was loathe to do it though. For one the niche he¡¯d carved out for himself carried no little sentimental value. So the question became where to start. That question had an easy answer at least, and the answer was dragons. At least three truly ancient specimens had fallen in the final battle with Tsa¡¯rahlitzek, and because that part of the battle had been entirely conducted through portals no one knew which ones they¡¯d been. So three dragon¡¯s hoards lay totally unguarded¡­ well relatively unguarded, alongside possibly an even greater fortune in actual dragon¡¯s flesh. That alone meant he certainly wouldn¡¯t be the only one hunting. He had advantages, sheer age for starters meant he already knew where a lot of Reath¡¯s ancient dragons lurked, and surviving through a lot of the more major disasters meant he also knew where a lot of them probably weren¡¯t. Combine that with a significant enough position in the Council of Mages that he got to see incident reports, admittedly with redactions and ages out of date, and he was fairly sure he was the premier expert on the matter in all of Reath. Maybe. It wasn¡¯t mortal competition he was worried about. While there was always the possibility some lucky treasure hunter or plucky mercenary might stumble across more wealth than they knew what to do with, they¡¯d almost certainly leave the true wealth alone. Aetheric chains. Magical constructs that did little unimportant things. Like enforce the laws of physics. Even the least of them had enough magical power to turn a mage into a minor divinity ¨C if they could survive the apotheosis that was ¨C and nearly every first generation dragon had one. Had been created for the very purpose of guarding them in fact. Three aetheric chains¡­ it wouldn¡¯t make him a power unparalleled on Reath but it would put the beings he¡¯d have to show caution around into numbers he could have counted without taking off his shoes. Then finally he could fulfil his pact with Oblivion. Finally there would be no more gods. Oathmaker - Chapter 1 - A Prelude To A Trial When Holly had first imagined entering the Necropolis, ancestral home of necromancy, it hadn¡¯t been like this. The young dryad had imagined it would feel a lot like finding a new home. That they¡¯d be welcomed as guests as they walked through streets that who¡¯s youngest cobble was a full hundred times her age¡­ That Erebus would have been there to guide them through the city he had, at times, spoken so fondly of. Instead she and Alec had been smuggled in under invisibility spells, teleported directly into the Necropolis¡¯ academy under heavy guard. If it weren¡¯t for the looming threat of Erebus, still out there somewhere, she was all but certain they¡¯d have been simply killed for the eternal crime of knowing too much. If Natalya, Erebus¡¯ former commander and one of the survivors of the desperate battles against the rogue elemental Charigris and Tsa¡¯rahlitzek herself, hadn¡¯t been there to advocate for them every step of the way Holly was fairly certain they¡¯d have still been killed, just very quietly. Just about the only part of the whole thing that had matched the image in her head had been that they¡¯d arrived in the dead of night. There was no logical reason this should be the case, undead didn¡¯t require sleep, but necromancers, in her experience, seemed to simply delight in that aesthetic. They were noble, as people went. In many ways because they had to be. Necromancy¡¯s name had been blackened time and time again through the history of Reath and the Necropolis fought every day to turn the pages of history away from the darker times, and by and large they¡¯d succeeded. These days more people would deplore the Holy Paladin Order than their ancient foe. They were also a pragmatic people from Holly¡¯s experience, and not the kind of pragmatism that treated other people like pieces on a board but the perhaps more terrible kind that treated everyone like those same pieces. It was a terribly cold person who could look a friend in the eye and tell them where they going to die. Colder still that could do it to a mirror. And it was cold. Holly had seen it with her own eyes. There had been nothing of honour in it, no thoughts of glory when they had faced down Charigris, just simple calculation. If I do this then fewer people will die than if I don¡¯t. Alice, the only living warshifter on Reath had died from that choice, died gladly, but died all the same. And tens of thousands of lives had been saved. The Academy Vulcanus had not fallen. The great volcano elemental Qrilotesh had not been forced to battle a foe that even if she could best it would have left hundreds of miles of Contenmere a lifeless wasteland of ash and slag. She¡¯d seen it again. Hours later. When Erebus had challenged the demon queen that had trained him to a duel. Witnessed personally Reath¡¯s youngest archmage employ magics that would have signed his death warrant a dozen times over just for knowing. Seen a lightning bolt fuelled by a gods lifeforce and will expend itself upon Tsa¡¯rahlitzek just to lay a wound upon her. Seen a meteor pulled from the sky. Seen gods bleed in battle. Seen an imperator die. By Von Mori¡¯s grace, she was pretty sure the only reason she wouldn¡¯t be executed over some of the things she now knew was that the Necropolis didn¡¯t know of them to ban them. They¡¯d been let through only a few black stone corridors into some kind of waiting room, the bricks aglow to her burgeoning magical senses. They rather had to be, the inner sanctums of the Necropolis were old to the point mere stone would have crumbled to dust just by oxidation alone. Not a word had been said to any of them by the necromancers escorting them before the damn slammed shut behind them and the click of the key in the lock had rung like a death knell. The waiting room certainly hadn¡¯t been designed to put people at ease. It was a drab, dismal affair, the walls painted a carefully neutral grey. The chairs creaked when they were sat in, and after she¡¯d felt hers starting to give way Holly had elected to stand instead, her bare feet caked in dust. She was nervous, too nervous really, but that was because some of it wasn¡¯t hers. Hells, she was increasingly sure most of it wasn¡¯t hers. That was the problem with sharing a soul with Alec, he tended to worry. When she¡¯d been bonded to the teenage mage, back before she¡¯d even known he had magic ¨C or he had for that matter ¨C she¡¯d been singularly unimpressed with the boy she was doomed to spend the rest of her life no more than a hundred metres from. Such was a dryad¡¯s lot in life. Even one consumed by wanderlust such as she had to share their soul with something. Alec at least was far more mobile than the holly tree she¡¯d sprung from. And, now she¡¯d had some times to come to terms with things, far better company as well. It helped that the short leash she¡¯d spent her life on had been extended significantly. Back when she¡¯d been bound to her tree it had been painful to move more than a dozen metres away from it. Agony at more than fifty. Now, with Alec, she honestly didn¡¯t know how far she could go; there hadn¡¯t really been a chance to check but she¡¯d put good money on being able to wander the entire Necropolis and its attendant towns with barely a twinge. And it had only taken literal torture, a coma and being separated by a mad mage¡¯s temporal loop to achieve it. Each incident had been a kind of strain on the thin strands of their shared soul, and like with muscle, that which did not break it made it stronger. There were dryads centuries her senior who¡¯s bond wasn¡¯t so developed. To give her host some credit, not all of it was because of bouts of extreme trauma, Alec, for all his faults ¨C which she would happily list given the opportunity ¨C was a lot more complex than a tree. Which wasn¡¯t to say her tree had been boring, it had had needs, wants and desires, even if just for more sunlight. But they had been very static things, predictable even. The most exciting thing she¡¯d ever had to do for it had been to remove a colony of burrowing beetles from its trunk, not even magical beetles, just plain old insects. And if she¡¯d carefully nurtured her tree for another couple hundred years then she¡¯d have had a real chance at establishing herself as a power in her part of the forest. That was what it was like being a dryad. A constant thirst for power, undercut by the near constant boredom. The fleshbags thought it was all peaceful bliss and dancing through the flowers but the truth was that plants were fiercely, brutally competitive. Sure there was a level of cooperation, in times of drought everyone shared water through the thin strands of fungus that permeated the soil, and some of the trees had deep roots indeed to find enough for all, but when that ran out then it really was every plant for themselves. Then there was sunlight. The older trees were absolute gluttons for sunlight, and sharing? No way in all the hells. When Holly had finally become old enough to be leave her tree, she¡¯d spent a couple very productive days chopping down the nearby beech trees with a large rock just to clear some canopy. By the standards of Von Mori dryads that was about a two out of ten for ruthlessness. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The point was that faced with a life of high stakes boredom ahead of her, she¡¯d jumped on the first opportunity to leave that had come along on the simple basis that it was very likely to be the only opportunity. She¡¯d had regrets since then, a lot of regrets if she was honest. Her holly tree had been dull, silent and just vaguely content. Alec on the other hand seemed to delight in throwing himself into danger, and reluctantly she¡¯d had to admit so did she. The other big surprise had been the sheer variety of emotion the human had, just checking their bond at this very moment gave her a terrifying bandwidth of emotions. Waves of anxiety, a subtle creeping dread and a cold fear that ran all the way down his spine only so it could then run up hers. Damn it, she wished Erebus was still here. For all she understood why he¡¯d had to leave, the Necropolis wouldn¡¯t have dared to put them on trial with a literal god-killer glowering behind them. * Natalya tried not to openly watch the two terrified teenagers that had by the vagaries of fate become her wards. It certainly wouldn¡¯t have been her first choice but in the fallout of Erebus¡¯ death there had been no one else in a position to protect them. Amara, for all that she was the premiere pyromancer of the era, and likely would be for centuries to come, was still a vampire. Vampires and the Necropolis did not get along, too much bad blood between them after the Purge of Night. That a sufficiently powerful necromancer could just suborn a vampire was almost a secondary concern compared to that kind of history. It said a lot about Amara that two of her best friends were necromancers¡­ well one of them now. But alas her positive qualities also included tact and an above average measure of tactical acumen. A vampire protecting the two youngsters in necromancer central might do more harm than good. Weaver of New Tales had been an even poorer choice of guardian. Normally an arachni in the Necropolis would have been an honoured guest. The giant sapient spiders, much like gorgons, had a right to protection within its buttressed walls that dated back to before the first stone had even been mined. And an ambassador from the Great Web Beneath, thought lost millenia ago, would have been doubly welcome, possibly even triply. Unfortunately politics was at play. The Necropolis had secrets, and that wasn¡¯t a secret, but one of those secrets an arachni was uniquely suited to ferret out, and one adept at shadow magic, as Weaver was, was even more likely to discover things that senior necromancers very dearly wanted to go unknown, at least for a few more years. As one of those senior necromancers Natalya had, as politely as she could, directed Weaver elsewhere, feeling like an absolute heel in doing so. The arachni had been sincerely looking forwards to seeing the place her husband had grown up in. And wasn¡¯t that an absolute mind-breaker. Erebus had been married. Admittedly a sexless, loveless and childless marriage for entirely political reasons, but still she¡¯d thought she¡¯d known her erstwhile subordinate better than that. It was hard not to feel hurt sometimes. Which brought her to her current spot, leant against a wall as she watched Holly steal glances at Alec every time his anxiety spiked, which was every few seconds, while the dryad carefully didn¡¯t looking at the door they hadn¡¯t come through. Alec was the more concerning of the two to watch. Natalya had been in this game a very long time, too long really, but there wasn¡¯t a necromancer worth a wisp who couldn¡¯t slow the aging process to a crawl, ditto a healer, and she was both. In her considered opinion Alec had the look of someone who was seriously considering doing something foolish. It might have had something to do with the way one hand kept creeping down to the sword at his belt, just to check it was still there, or maybe it was the way the other hand was maintaining a white-knuckled grip on Erebus¡¯ warstaff. Natalya would have put good money that if the stave had been made from a wood mundane than an elder dryad¡¯s heartwood, freely given (and that mattered magically), the yew stave would have been creaking from the pressure. Or it was the way his own gaze had only left the door they¡¯d entered by to flicker for just a moment to her face, seeking reassurance or perhaps just a measure of how screwed they really were, then back to the door. She could all but see the gears turning through his head. First he¡¯d get out his water flask, not out of any thirst but because the fools who¡¯d given it to him had overenchanted the damn thing. Frankly it was more of an unexploded bomb than a drinking vessel. She knew he had some kind of enchanted body armour on, and was pretty sure he¡¯d taken to sleeping in it, either way it and a carefully positioned chair would likely absorb most of the blast when he stabbed the flask. After that it would be a matter of fighting his way to the teleport room, holding the mage manning it at swordpoint, getting teleported as close to safety as possible (Forest Von Mori would be her best guess) then hoping for the best. The fighting wouldn¡¯t be too hard. The guards at the door were living ones, and they wouldn¡¯t be expecting a pair of apparent teenagers and a necromancer in good standing to make a break for it. Alec might be unable to cast a spell to save his life at the moment but his swordplay belonged in hands many years his senior and he had access to some truly terrifying alchemicals that Natalya had carefully forgotten to take from him. It would be a good plan, and it would fail disastrously at every single step. The door was enchanted, just about every part of every building this deep in the Necropolis was. Necromancers built things to outlast not just living memory but unliving as well. So that was failure point one. The guards Alec could probably put down, but not without killing them, and she doubted he had it in him to kill in cold blood, and if he did then he¡¯d be dodging scrying spells for the rest of his life. The third problem was the truly insurmountable one. The teleport room, ironically, would not be able to teleport them. Teleports were about the most mana intensive spells most mages would see in their lifetime. They took an absolute age to charge, to the point it was more common to have mana stones and spell spheres doing the work than mages. As for the kind of combat teleporting that was so popular in stories¡­ well Natalya wouldn¡¯t quite say it was a myth. But she¡¯d only ever seen one person do it, and Erebus was dead. Only a few people on Reath knew it, and none were inclined to share the information. But the thought was one Natalya worked damned hard not to even let cross her mind for fear something or someone might pluck it out. Despite Alec and Holly¡¯s nervousness, she was fairly sure they were safe. For all necromancers were pragmatic, they did value life, and very few of them were cold enough to kill children. The problem was that nearly all of them would be in the small chamber ahead of them. And most of those without the stomach for bloodshed, which was a surprising number of necromancers, would not be there. If it were an open vote in the Unhallowed Auditorium, a room intended to seat every citizen, necromancer or sapient undead in the Necropolis¡¯ aegis, then Alec and Holly¡¯s safety wouldn¡¯t even be a passing question. But the smaller chamber didn¡¯t have a name, because it didn¡¯t officially exist. Or rather officially it was a backup classroom for remedial necromancy that seldom saw use. This wouldn¡¯t be an open vote, couldn¡¯t be an open vote, because that was the problem with the crime of knowing too much, it tended to spread very fast. So they¡¯d keep it to those already contaminated. Those who in their wisdom and benevolence had concluded the knowledge was safe with them. It would depend on which voting blocs were in attendance. Erebus¡¯ order, the Sable Shields, would almost certainly side in favour of the two. The Grand Apology the same. Her own order, the Eternal Gardeners, would probably be against. Which left only the majority of unaffiliated senior necromancers and liches who could go either way. By the Martyr¡¯s forgotten name but she wasn¡¯t ready for this fight. Wars of words had never been Natalya¡¯s forte. She¡¯d been a soldier, an elite warmage, even that rarest of things, a soul healer, but not once in her life had she been accused of being a diplomat. She wished Erebus was here. Not because he was more diplomatic. He most certainly hadn¡¯t been. Erebus would have simply declared the pair of them off limits and if any of the learned liches awaiting them had brooked disagreement he¡¯d have simply told whoever said it that they¡¯d be the one that died first. There¡¯d have been laughter, because it was laughable. One necromancer, no matter how great their deeds, their knowledge or power, against the entire Necropolis¡­ there could only ever be one result. And some of the laughter would be uneasy, because some would remember the many who¡¯d been stood opposite Erebus and made that same calculation. And he was still standing there, and they weren¡¯t. Miraculously, graciously, they¡¯d conclude that Alec and Holly were just children in over their heads, good, kind souls to be gently guided and educated until they were worthy of the secrets in their heads. Very gently guided. But Erebus was dead, and she was not. And if the Necropolis, in its wisdom, decided to kill two children, she¡¯d have little choice but to stand back and watch. Slowly the door to the chamber swung open and Natalya stood to her full height, rolling her shoulders back as if getting ready for a fight. Because she was. And she was absolutely determined not to lose. Oathmaker - Chapter 2 - The Trial & The Archmage The trial chamber was surprisingly well lit. A dozen crystals in the ceiling providing a bright and startlingly austere clarity to the room. It was a surprising break from the Necropolis¡¯ thus far unshakeable commitment to aesthetic, but then again justice was always best done in the light. Natalya had never been up on the dais before, a small circle of ancient wood, just big enough for the three of them to stand, which they were escorted to without any further preamble, ascending the small flight of stairs with ease. The rows of chairs where she would normally have been seated were worryingly full. People were apparently taking this seriously, which wasn¡¯t a good sign. On the other hand she could see an unusual cluster of paladins in full armour on one side. That was odd. There was only one order of the Necropolis that allowed their enemy dual membership and that was the Slayers of Death. The hair on the back of her neck began to prickle at that realisation. She honestly couldn¡¯t remember the last time the Slayers had even had a member attend a trial, let alone the entire senior leadership. As a group they were oddly one of the most martial and simultaneously most peaceful. They trained constantly on how to fight, whether by spell or blade, but seldom ever left the Necropolis unless it was on their absurd quest. Like a number of the orders that had risen and fallen through necromancy¡¯s long history, the Slayers of Death were obsessed with ending mortality once and for all. Though where others had focused on pushing the limits of necromancy or healing magic, the Slayers had elected for a more direct approach. Which was to seek out and kill Death herself. Given no one even knew if such a being even existed, thus far they¡¯d had no luck. What they were doing at the trial was anyone¡¯s guess. Natalya let her gaze sweep across the rest of those gathered, seeking other patterns and oddities. There isn¡¯t much, or at least much she thinks will directly sway the vote. Most of the people there are undead, and most of the undead are liches ¨C widely regarded as the pinnacle of self-applied necromancy. There were a couple of ghouls, including old Vortigan Vee, the undead swordsmaster and teacher that would, providing Alec survived the trial, take great pleasure in making his life a misery. Which was at least another vote in their corner. Then there was Berilith the Chanter, the banshee was also a teacher at the Necropolis, but one far less inclined to take risks, and worse her magical voice gave her far more influence than Nat was comfortable with. If she spoke up then the necromancer would have to interject rapidly. And of course there were the living. Oddly the older the necromancer looked likely the younger they were. Power and knowledge did not always go hand in hand. Neither did power and trust. She risked a glance over her shoulder at Alec and Holly. The two quite frankly looked terrified. Likely for entirely different reasons. As an inherently magical creature Holly was probably sensing the kind of magical strength from the gathered creatures that would compare favourably to Charigris, the insane wildfire elemental they¡¯d helped kill. For Alec it was likely a far deeper, instinctual concern, human beings had always felt a frisson of fear at the sight of a skull, and right now he was staring at hundreds. Heartless as it was, she was glad they were terrified. It made them seem less like a threat and would pull at the heartstrings of even creatures who¡¯s hearts had rotted away decades, if not centuries, ago. That was going to be the crux of her argument when the trial started, an open and unapologetic appeal to emotion, with a side order of ¡®what would Erebus think?¡¯. The trial took a fair while to come to order, not a surprise really. Everyone here, or at least everyone not forced to stand up, was an equal and had an equal voice, and so the hubbub their mere entrance had caused took a while to die down enough that whoever had been appointed to read the charges/explain things thought it was worth raising their voice for. ¡°We are gathered to discuss the matter of Alec, son of Arthur, and Holly, daughter of Von Mori, chosen apprentices of Erebus the Grey Walker.¡± The last part falling from the speaker¡¯s lips as if it were the vilest invective known to humankind. Natalya managed to hold back her wince. The gathered ranks of necromancers were supposedly all equals, and thus held equal voice, in theory. To this end the trial had no regularly appointed judge, and as no records were kept, no clerk either to read the charges. Instead they¡¯d opted to simply assign someone the job at random and Natalya could not think of a worse possible candidate than Archmage Merida. If the Necropolis had a first amongst equals it was Merida. The elf was one of the very few mortals that could treat many of the liches like juniors, children even, and the withered old hag was thoroughly heartless, born of an older mould of necromancer long left behind and left behind gladly. A relic of a time when they had been every inch the monsters the Holy Paladin Order had been created to destroy. Even all of that wouldn¡¯t have been an issue, such creatures craved power like a drug, but Merida was the Necropolis¡¯ only archmage, and had been for aeons. Any other contenders for the title, mages yet to flower, had been killed as a bud. Nothing blatant, just lots of accidents, the occasional honour duel, or in one case the poor soul in question being sacrificed to a demon lord. Everyone knew. Noone could prove a thing. Then along came Erebus, who had survived his tuition in the Necropolis by the simple expedient of being unexceptional. By the time anyone was seriously taking him as a contender for a genuine master of magics he¡¯d already quit the Council of Mages and was doing his lone vigilante routine. The only reason he¡¯d even been allowed to keep his necromancer credentials was that it provided a very thin and weak restraint upon his actions. That and a threatened revolt by the Sable Shields, who had threatened to split from the Necropolis if they¡¯d been mad enough to go through with it. And now the rogue necromancer had taken the last step on that ladder. There were two possible ways to become an archmage, the simplest, and surprisingly least common, was the one Merida had taken. To be an acknowledged master of at least ten magical arts. Necromancers had something of an advantage there, truth be told. As the old joke went, the main difference between necromancy and healing was timing. The other, in theory more difficult and in practice more likely, method was to ¡®exhibit magic beyond the ken of mere mages¡¯. So now there was a necromancer archmage out in the Hells that Merida couldn¡¯t do a damn thing about. That kind of power and a feeling of impotence was never a good combination, Natalya could easily see her using her role to tilt the trial against the two kids just to make a point. ¡°The two have been cruelly befouled with darkest necromancy friends, dark rites these hallowed halls had hoped forgotten to time. Their souls fused in a gruesome experiment and thus doomed to a slow and agonizing death¡­¡± Merida explained, voice croaking a little as she had to fight back tears. Natalya almost got whiplash as she turned to stare at the elven mage, of all the angles she¡¯d expected Merida to pursue that wasn¡¯t one of them. Hells above and below, she almost sounded genuine. It was the worst possible attack imaginable. She had been expecting the ancient archmage to talk about the dangers of the knowledge in the children¡¯s heads, the potential for them to turn out just like their missing mentor. But the minds that would be turned by such words were likely already predecided. A plea for mercy on the other hand¡­ ¡°It is my considered opinion that the charges against them, nay not even charges in truth but mere unfortunate circumstance, unsought and unasked, are irrelevant. What matters is mercy. Some of you weak-willed fools will be disinclined to kill them. You have not seen what I have seen. You will proclaim it cruelty. Cruelty would be allowing them to live. To watch as they fight for control over their joint soul and slowly rip themselves apart.¡± Even Holly and Alec had gone pale at that proclamation. Natalya almost tried to console them, to assure them it was an empty lie, but the words just wouldn¡¯t come. For a moment she pondered if she¡¯d been bespelled but it really was just words, each one a lead weight on the ear, made heavy by Merida¡¯s grief. ¡°We are not mayflies Merida.¡± One of the liches, a Gardener that Nat didn¡¯t recognise, rasped, ¡°Your role is to state the charges. Not to give your opinion upon them. State the charges.¡± The look Merida shot the undead necromancer would have received a standing ovation from Medusa herself. ¡°Thank you for correcting me Gardener Madrigal.¡± The elven woman growled, ¡°The charges are that of possession of forbidden knowledge. The children have born witness to acts of temporal magic most foul, have seen events of bardic make as well as annihilation magics. They have also seen several restricted arts at work, such as cloning, combat teleportation and bane magics. They are also privy to some secrets I cannot speak even here.¡± ¡°Additionally,¡± Merida continued, ¡°We have received a request for extradition from the Holy Paladin Order, citing them as suspects in the slaughter of the innocent peoples of Reath and the murder of the great dryad Von Mori. However given both of these charges are laughable I am inclined to put it to a vote now and move on. All in favour of putting it to a vote, please signal.¡± If there was a mage present who didn¡¯t summon some form of magelight, Natalya couldn¡¯t see them. ¡°And all those in favour of refusing to extradite, please signal.¡± Even the paladin members of the Slayers of Death raised their hands or held weapons aloft. Normally Natalya would have been shocked at the Necropolis playing so fast and loose with justice, but the charges really were as ludicrous as Archmage Merida had said, if anything the venerable elf was understating things. It would have been less accurate to describe Von Mori as the next best thing to a god than to describe a god as the next best thing to Von Mori. The idea of a teenager unable to even sense mana killing her was almost as laughable as one of her own dryads turning against her. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Motion carried.¡± Merida stated coldly, still trying to murder Gardener Madrigal with just her eyes, ¡°I now open the floor to questions¡­¡± A chorus of mages raised hands or summoned lights while Natalya held her breath. This was the moment the archmage¡¯s appointment would make or break things for the pair. But even here, for all the Necropolis¡¯ pretences, or, more kindly, attempts, at equality, there were still firsts amongst equals. ¡°Aegis Verona, your question?¡± ¡°Thank you, archmage.¡± A rather unadorned lich replied smoothly, ¡°You speak of secrets you cannot speak of. How are we to pass judgement when we cannot even know what we are passing judgement upon?¡± ¡°I fear you shall have to take it on advisement Aegis.¡± Merida told her flatly. ¡°I refuse. I propose a vote that any secrets we cannot know, they be found innocent due to our inability to judge.¡± Aegis Verona countered, striking swiftly before someone else could be acknowledged. ¡°Seconded.¡± The mage beside her declared. Merida sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose in near-theatrical frustration. ¡°Very well. Those in favour of such a vote, please indicate.¡± The vote was surprisingly close, and perhaps most surprisingly not divided by faction ¨C with the exception of the Slayers of Death who unanimously voted in favour. Natalya wasn¡¯t the only one giving the Necropolis¡¯ most reclusive faction the side-eye. It took Merida close to a minute to count the votes, the elf finally giving a defeated sigh. ¡°Very well. All in favour of removing the charges relating to those secrets deemed too dangerous for senior Necropolis consumption please indicate.¡± Natalya held her breath even as she summoned her own magelight, a small unflickering orb of sterile white light in her palm. Just because they had agreed to vote didn¡¯t mean the gathered mages intended to vote in the positive, just that enough of them had made their minds up on the issue. Certainly there was more hesitation, a myriad of lights slowly flickering to life, again with the exception of the Slayers, who¡¯s section of the chamber was a veritable beacon, until finally no new lights revealed themselves. ¡°Motion passed. The charges are dropped.¡± Merida stated after a few moments, not bothering to hide her annoyance. ¡°I reopen the floor to questions and statements¡­ Head Gardener Ackeron, you have the floor.¡± Unlike many liches the leader of Nataly¡¯s own order had decided to keep his skin, the withered and mummified flesh practically its own leather armour, and made for a uniquely intimidating mask even by Necropolis standards. ¡°I would like to raise a point of concern.¡± He began, Natalya¡¯s heart sinking in the process. ¡°Regardless of what we decide regarding the charges, I believe the death penalty should be taken off the table.¡± Even Merida looked surprised. One of the big drawbacks to being a living being in the Necropolis, the inability to control one¡¯s expression when most of your colleagues had the ultimate poker face by default. ¡°Elaborate please.¡± She asked slowly, eyes narrowed as if expecting some kind of trick. For almost a thousand years Ackeron had been about an unrepentant believer in solving problems both simply and definitely, and there was little simpler or more definite than death. ¡°If this knowledge is so dangerous¡­ well frankly it¡¯s harder to extract information from the living than the dead. Unless you are going to propose we smelt their combined soul? In which case I would have little choice but to advocate firmly in the negative.¡± The elf took a moment to reply to that, ¡°An excellent point. Though I would point out that their soul is doomed to dissolution regardless of our actions in either direction.¡± ¡°Be that as it may, the destruction of a soul cannot be countenanced.¡± Ackeron stated with all the implacable firmness of heavy masonry. ¡°I propose a vote that, irrespective of whether these children are found innocent or guilty, they not be killed or their soul permitted to come to harm.¡± ¡°Seconded.¡± Multiple voices across the chamber raced to cry out. ¡°I do not believe such a vote is allowable.¡± Merida told them frostily, ¡°It would render the charges themselves irrelevant if there is no punishment permissable. I reopen the floor to questions.¡± There were only a smattering of lights this time, and even they dwindled rapidly back down to one as all eyes turned back to Ackeron, his own beacon, some sort of scrying orb, almost blindingly bright as he bullied the other mages into compliance. Still Merida did not immediately pass things back to the Head Gardener, a good ten seconds spent trying to turn him into a greasy stain with just her eyes, but Ackeron met that green gaze with his own rather more intimidating empty sockets. Finally Merida gave in, manage to grate out through clenched teeth, ¡°Head Gardener Ackeron, you have the floor.¡± ¡°My thanks, Archmage Merida.¡± The lich replied smoothly, as if even the least of them couldn¡¯t sense the elf plotting his murder through aura alone. ¡°I would like to voice my agreement with your earlier words, that we should not refer to these as charges but merely unfortuitous events. Which means we should not be speaking of punishment when nothing has been done wrong. We are not here to punish, we are here to minimize risk.¡± Natalya¡¯s jaw just about hit the floor. There was some kind of game being played here, she was sure of it, but she had not a clue what the pieces were let alone the rules as one of the Necropolis¡¯ most callous senior figures debated what was, in practical terms, mere sophistry. ¡°An excellent point.¡± Merida agreed, stepping into the trap laid before her, if for no other reason than to admire the construction. Wanting to see for herself how it would close around her, yet nothing further came from Ackeron, the Head Gardener giving her a mummified smile instead. ¡°I reopen the floor¡­ Master Vala, you may speak next.¡± Natalya didn¡¯t know Vala personally, ghoul, something of a rarity and pariah in the Necropolis, and she was certainly getting a lot of side-eye from her fellow mages and undead. For one of the two most undead populated places in the world, it was always a shock to outsiders just how unpopular ghouls were. The reasons were simple enough. Noone chose to be a ghoul. It wasn¡¯t even done as a punishment. Afflicting the poor soul with an unnatural hunger for human flesh, or any other sapient for that matter. A ghoul¡¯s appetite was in fact regarded as one of the major tests of personhood, if they sight of something made them hungry then they were a living person no matter how unusual the bodyplan. If they did not feed that cruel hunger they would wither, rot and die. And yet ghouls still happened. They were perceived as a sign of failure, not necessarily personal failure but for a necromancer to rise as a ghoul meant that whatever battle they¡¯d fallen in, and ghouls rose exclusively from battlefields, had been very definitively lost. Noone had rescued the body, or in paladin cases burned it. Many ghouls reacted to the stigma by becoming hateful or hiding from the world. A rare few saw themselves as guardians of the lost. Vala it turned out fell into the latter camp. ¡°I think we should all be ashamed.¡± The ghoul rasped, a hoarse and grating voice that hurt the ears. ¡°I can accept that this a problem that must be solved, and that some of the solutions are mightily callous if not cruel. But I think we are cowards, to consider killing these children without once letting them speak.¡± ¡°They are children.¡± Merida chastised, trying to brush the point aside as an irrelevance, ¡°I highly doubt they have much to shed on the risks that we do not already know.¡± ¡°But they do have a larger stake in the outcome.¡± Vala rasped as gently as her ruined throat could manage. ¡°I would have it put to a vote.¡± ¡°I would rule that too vague to be actionable, Necromancer Vala, please state your intent more clearly.¡± ¡°I would have it put to vote that we should be allowed to ask the chil- to ask Holly and Alec questions directly about their experiences as well as there intentions and desires going forwards, until such a time as the curiosity of this chamber is satisfied.¡± The ghoul stared down the ire-filled glares she received for that request, such a questioning could take an age. Which was rather the point, the more they got to know Holly and Alec, the harder it would be for many to kill them. Natalya didn¡¯t hesitate, her voice ringing across the chamber in a clear yell of ¡°Seconded!¡± ¡°It would be unwise to put this to vote.¡± Merida countered, ¡°An errant question might uncover secrets best kept buried.¡± ¡°That may be.¡± Vala smiled, ¡°But that¡¯s not yours to decide. A vote has been requested.¡± The elf ground her teeth, conceding gracelessly as she snarled, ¡°Fine, on your own heads be it. Just know there are creatures that will hound you to the ends of Reath for knowing some of the things in their heads. All those in favour of such reckless madness, please indicate.¡± It wasn¡¯t an exactly unbiased call to action, and Natalya allowed herself to hope as the Sable Shields and Slayers of Death¡¯s sections lit up like beacons. Predictably not a single light rose from the ranks of the Grand Apology, Reath¡¯s sole undead only faction deplored interacting with the living and it would take a lot more than forbidden knowledge or an unjust punishment to move them. Still with the support of the Gardeners it would take just a smattering of unaffiliated votes to swing it, yet that support never materialised. A few dozen beacons lit but Ackeron¡¯s remained resolutely dark and slowly those lights flickered out until only a handful remained resolutely glowing in defiance of their leader. Even then the vote could have carried, should have carried. Just under half the Necropolis¡¯ senior leadership belonged to a faction but only a handful of lights glowed from the unaffiliated benches. Vala, at least, seemed to be trying to make up the difference by sheer enthusiasm, her glowing orb a searing red strobe that tried to shame her fellows into action by its all-consuming brightness, or perhaps was just trying to blind Merida out of spite. Possibly both. Certainly Natalya upon the dais was forced to shield her eyes with a hand while Holly and Alec turned away to blink spots out of their vision. Abruptly the light dimmed, a gesture from Merida reducing it to a mere candle¡¯s glow. ¡°While your enthusiasm is appreciated Necromancer Vala, I must ask you restrain yourself. The vote has failed, accept your defeat with grace and decorum.¡± ¡°Go to hell Merida.¡± The ghoul snapped, getting up from her seat, ¡°and as for the rest of you. You¡¯re all cowards and I sincerely hope you rot.¡± ¡°Necromancer Vala, you are out of line.¡± Archmage Merida declared, not even bothering to restrain her smirk. ¡°Desist your disruption or be removed.¡± The ghoul gave her the finger, ¡°I¡¯m removing myself Merida. I might lower myself to return when you all find your spines.¡± Vala stalked off, taking her time with it, and making sure to slam the door on the way out. It was a selfish gesture, in Natalya¡¯s opinion, the ghoul had in mere moments proven herself the most devout advocate for the two children that she could have wished for, while at the same time removing her ability to advocate for them. Of course there was a darker possibility, one that the necromancer barely dared entertain, that she¡¯d removed herself because the battle was already lost. There was a game here, and one she should know how to play and play well, and yet nothing was going as she¡¯d expected. The abruptness of the trial had removed the days of backroom dealing, the chances to lay her case, to judge where others lay, and now, here at the trial, the only faction that was behaving as she¡¯d expected was the Sable Shields. Alas the trial continued despite her doubts, Merida pressing on in Vala¡¯s absence. Natalya let the events simply wash over her as she gnawed away at the puzzle before her. Ackeron had to be the key to this. He was one of the few in her order senior enough to order her, and in that his silence had been deafening. She¡¯d presumed that made them enemies in this matter, but his contradictory actions today belayed that, and besides he could have just ordered her to comply. So what was he doing? Casting Alec and Holly in a sympathetic light and yet when given the opportunity not letting them speak in their own defence? It couldn¡¯t possibly be that he feared hearing Merida¡¯s fabled forbidden knowledge, knowledge that Natalya herself had been equal witness to. Ah. But he could fear other people hearing it. Secrets were a currency far more precious than gold to mages, and what better way to get exclusive access to those secrets than to save Holly and Alec¡¯s lives? Natalya took a few moments to examine the cascade of logic for flaws, and they certainly were there, but not so many as to think her surmise incorrect. Slowly she allowed herself to relax and just in time too because things in the trial chamber were starting to get a little bit tense. ¡°Point of order.¡± A Slayer of Death Natalya didn¡¯t recognise was on her feet, despite a dozen voices yelling at him to sit back down, Merida¡¯s included. The old woman was having none of it, refusing to return to her seat until she¡¯d been allowed to speak despite having to lean on a staff just to stay upright. Eventually Merida gave in, ¡°Slayer Arrabelle, I trust there is a good reason for this breach of protocol.¡± ¡°Indeed Archmage, I believe I am in possession of information that would change the Necropolis¡¯ stance on this issue as it affects the very survival of this august institution.¡± ¡°Make it good Arrabelle.¡± Merida allowed tiredly. ¡°I would like it to be known that Alec and Holly have both been bequeathed an honourary membership in the Slayers of Death. We believe their continued survival is of vital importance to our holy mission.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 3 - Nurture the Flowers, Kill the Weeds Noone laughed. That was the eeriest thing. The claim was¡­ well¡­ ludicrous was perhaps too mild, farcical too kind. The idea that a pair of teenagers held the secret to kill Death herself, a being that noone at the Necropolis was even sure existed, and if they did would have nigh unimaginable power, was just laughable. And noone laughed. It was something in the terrible earnestness with which Arrabelle had said it. Natalya had dealt with zealots before, they tended to be wild-eyed madmen, babbling lunatics that were dismissed practically as a form of memetic self-defence. The dangerous ones though¡­ the dangerous ones sounded like Arrabelle. Earnest, sincere and serious as a naked blade. And that¡¯s what Arrabelle was, a drawn blade pointed at the throat of the world. Above all things, the Slayers of Death had always been a martial order. ¡°Thank you for that information Slayer Arrabelle.¡± Merida told her curtly, expecting her to now sit down, yet the old Slayer remained resolutely standing, ¡°was there something more?¡± ¡°The Slayers have asked me to convey their intention to protect these two children, we will allow no outcome to this trial that results in their deaths.¡± The old woman said gravely. ¡°I am sorry.¡± The archmage couldn¡¯t take that lying down, drawing herself to her full height, ¡°It is not the place of the Slayers of Death to dictate to the Necropolis.¡± ¡°As I said, I am sorry.¡± Arrabelle inclined her head in apology. ¡°This is treason.¡± Merida growled, on the verge of smiting the errant Slayer as an example to her fellows. ¡°Secession actually. If the Necropolis attempts to put them to death then the Slayers of Death will no longer be a part of the Necropolis. Now where did I put it¡­?¡± Arrabelle began to pat herself down, searching through her robe pockets with increasing frustration. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me I left it in my quarters¡­¡± Her nominal opponent could only watch exasperated as Arrabelle grew more frantic in her search, still muttering to herself, ¡°...why does this always happen when I¡¯m on the spot. Aha I¡¯ve¡­ no nevermind. Wait wait got it!¡± Triumphantly the old mage brandished a shockingly large sheaf of documents from inside her robe only to find herself staring down the glowing green jade tip of Archmage Merida¡¯s warstaff, the elf teleporting it directly to her hands in those few moments. ¡°Merida! What is the meaning of this?¡± One lich bellowed, and there was a chorus of quieter exclamations of shock and horror. Natalya wasn¡¯t shocked. If anything she thought Merida¡¯s reaction was rather mild, because there was absolutely no way the documents could have fit in the pocket they¡¯d just been wrenched from. She¡¯d only ever met one other mage confident enough in their own grasp of spatial magic to actually keep an extradimensional space on their person, because if it unravelled¡­ well all that space and all the objects in it had to go somewhere, often at speed, but Erebus¡¯ skill with it would have been terrifying if he hadn¡¯t been masterfully understated with its use. The archmage of entropy¡¯s big trick had been to just always happen to have the right tool in his pockets for the situation, but never so large as to strain believability or even arouse suspicion unless a person were particularly astute¡­ right up to the day a full battlestaff had fallen from his sleeve into his empty hands. That was why Merida was now on a hair trigger. The old mage could be hiding just about anything inside her sleeves and they would have no way of knowing until the moment a primed inferno spell sphere dropped into her palm. Going by Arrabelle¡¯s smirk, the old woman knew full well what Merida¡¯s concerns were as she brandished her document in the elven mage¡¯s face. ¡°We always knew this day might come, where the interests of the Slayers and the Necropolis no longer aligned. This would declare us an independent organisation, based out of Howling Canyon, all we have to do is hand it to a Council representative and the deed is done.¡± ¡°The Necropolis will not be bullied into precipitous action.¡± Merida declared, tempted to simply scorch the offending document out of existence. ¡°It will apparently be bullied into melodrama.¡± The old Slayer grumbled, stuffing the papers back where they¡¯d come from, ¡°Honestly Merida, you talk is if you don¡¯t bully people into doing what you want all the time.¡± ¡°How dare you-¡± ¡°I dare because I¡¯m old you pointy-eared harpy, and the real kind of old, not your eternal youth nonsense. At least liches have the decency to look the part. There¡¯s not a damned thing you can do to me that time ain¡¯t gonna do soon enough.¡± Arrabelle snapped, ¡°Can you feel it Merida, the walls closing in on you? You¡¯ve got competition now, and I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll take kindly to you killing his apprentices, do you?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not relevant to this case.¡± The archmage replied stiffly. ¡°Oh really? Then let¡¯s stop dancing around the point and put it to a vote. I propose a vote on whether the Necropolis will kill Alec, son of Arthur, and Holly, daughter of Von Mori, to expunge the knowledge in their heads.¡± ¡°Seconded.¡± Ackeron¡¯s sonorous voice rang clear through the chamber. Merida flinched as if struck, and were she a less openly spiteful monster she might have said something like ¡®well played¡¯ at being backed into a corner so, or perhaps even a quiet ¡®no king rules forever¡¯ but the archmage of necromancy had no such grace or artifice to her, just about managing to snarl out a ¡°So be it.¡± between gritted teeth. Arrabelle might well be a naked blade, but so was Merida, and she was barbed, and likely envenomed for good measure. The vote to have a vote, or more accurately and less derisively, the vote to declare the majority of the chamber had made up its mind on an issue, went off without a hitch. Pretty much every mage lit their beacon to indicate they¡¯d reached some form of conclusion. Archmage Merida scowled, ¡°Fine then. Do we kill them? As good sense demands, or are you all too weak-willed to do what must be done?¡± Not a single light from the Shields or Slayers, surprising noone, and the Grand Apology was predictably passive, an ever reliable force for inaction. But there was a murmur of discontent as Ackeron actually snuffed out the lights from his own faction. Such things just weren¡¯t done. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Everyone knew there were backroom deals, that orders were given, but in theory the votes in the Necropolis were free votes and yet the Head Gardener was casually breaking the polite fiction that had held things together since time immemorial. After that naked show of force, and with all four of the Necropolis major factions apparently united on the issue, the vote failed utterly. Merida wasn¡¯t the only one voting for death, not quite, but it was close. As much as Natalya wished she could say it was a sign of the morality of the Necropolis that, at the final accounting, almost noone had been able to countenance the murder of children, the truth was nowhere near as edifying. Noone wanted to be on the losing side. Something akin to madness danced behind Archmage Merida¡¯s eyes as she glanced back at Holly and Alec, and Natalya could read enough of those dark thoughts to interpose herself bodily between the elf and the children. The moment passed and Merida let her fel green gaze to the senior necromancers gathered there today, ¡°You avaricious fools and bleeding hearts, when you come to regret this I will remind you of this moment, and I will laugh. Very well, what do you all propose we do with them then?¡± ¡°Erebus desired them to study at the Necropolis.¡± Natalya inserted into the sudden silence. She couldn¡¯t be certain but the fact noone had a plan ready to go¡­ had they really not thought past just keeping them alive? It wasn¡¯t out of the question, liches were renowned for their obsessive nature, it really was possible that not one of the them had planned beyond the victorious vote. ¡°Difficult.¡± Merida replied thoughtfully, ¡°Their knowledge could contaminate the other students¡­ hells above and below it could even contaminate some of the teachers. We would have to be very, very careful.¡± That got the elven archmage some stunned looks. ¡°What?¡± She asked surprised, ¡°You all decided to keep them alive and now we¡¯ve got to deal with that decision, that¡¯s how democracy works.¡± ¡°I was expecting you to counsel against them being taught at all.¡± Natalya admitted, wondering if she should be feeling shame for her presumption. ¡°Oh no, they have to be taught. It¡¯s vital even, or did you think I was making up the part about their soul tearing itself apart?¡± Merida sneered. ¡°It¡¯s just a difficult question as to how to do it safely. At minimum they¡¯ll have to be put into the advanced stream of students as well as given a specialized curriculum.¡± ¡°It risks contaminating our most promising students.¡± Ackeron pointed out, all decorum and order apparently gone by this point. That earned a smirk from one of the living necromancers, a bald haired fellow of middling years who chimed in, ¡°The advanced stream pretty much contaminates itself, that¡¯s half the point, to see who can handle that kind of knowledge sensibly.¡± ¡°A not totally stupid point.¡± Ackeron conceded. ¡°Very well, unless an alternate idea reveals itself I¡¯m prepared to call for a vote.¡± The silence spoke for itself. ¡°Seconded then.¡± Natalya said slowly, when it was clear noone else would. Both votes passed easily and as the trial was dismissed and everyone slowly sidled out, Natalya allowed herself relief that the two teenagers had emerged unscathed¡­ but through no design of hers. She should have been overjoyed, she knew she should, but somehow she¡¯d never felt so worthless. Of course that wasn¡¯t an end to it. Almost as soon as they had left, as Natalya prepared to try and find some quarters for the two to rest in, the necromancer would receive a tap on the shoulder. Not an unsurprising event, people often wanted to talk after meetings like these, sometimes under privacy wards, more often over a drink. She turned to decline only to find herself staring into Ackeron¡¯s empty sockets. ¡°Gardener Natalya, I require a few minutes of your time.¡± The leader of her order told her sternly. Natalya glanced over her shoulder at her two charges, ¡°Can it wait a few minutes sir?¡± She replied weakly, already able to guess the answer. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Fear not for the children, Gardener Medin shall see them to their quarters.¡± Ackeron assured her, indicating a surprisingly youthful necromancer behind him. And though youth was a poor judge of age in the Necropolis there was a nervousness to the young man that was hard to fake. She seriously considered saying no, but it would have been foolish, ¡°Very well.¡± Natalya sighed, turning to Alec and Holly, ¡°I will visit you as soon as possible.¡± She promised, then followed the beckoning Ackeron. The ancient lich proved a taciturn companion as they walked. She¡¯d never really had cause to spend much time with the head of her order, the Gardeners tended to be a fairly hands off group, trusting their members to use their best judgement on matters. Orders were rare, though when they did come down they were downright ironclad. The section of the Necropolis they were walking through was not one she¡¯d ever had cause to visit, the stone walls were ancient even by the dread sepulchre¡¯s standards. She could feel the weight of history weighing down on her with each echoing step, and that wasn¡¯t a metaphor, some kind of ward or hex upon the corridors was trying to tire her out. She wouldn¡¯t have recognised the feeling of temporal magic upon her skin before she¡¯d visited Forsaken Valda, but after the death zone the sensation was unmistakable for all that the application was novel. Something of the realisation must have shown on her face for Ackeron observed aloud, ¡°We¡¯ll have no choice but to increase your security clearance.¡± Natalya just nodded her compliance, wondering if there was going to be anything more now Ackeron had finally chosen to speak. Liches were often like that, silent for an age until they¡¯d decided what they wanted to say, and near impossible to stop from saying it once they¡¯d made their mind up. She wasn¡¯t to be disappointed. ¡°Do you know where we¡¯re going?¡± The lich asked her, and for all the gentle conversational tone there was no way the question wasn¡¯t a test. ¡°I¡¯d guessed your office.¡± Nat replied swiftly, electing not to play her superior¡¯s game by overthinking things. Besides it was a fairly decent guess, Ackeron¡¯s office was something of a myth amongst the Gardeners. It wasn¡¯t even on the level of knowing someone who claimed to know someone who¡¯d visited it. Noone knew where it was. Noone knew anyone who¡¯d ever visited it. There was no proof it even existed. And yet rumours abounded, that the office was in fact a sealed room accessible only by teleport, that everyone in fact entered it regularly but had to submit to a memory wipe, that it was the first room of the Necropolis built, that it lay deep beneath the Wraith Vault itself. Ackeron gave her a knowing smile, the leathery lips creaking as they twitched, ¡°After a fashion I suppose. I¡¯m taking you to see the Elder.¡± She drew a blank on that one. As far as she¡¯d been aware Ackeron was the highest ranked person in the Gardeners, and had been their leader for close to a thousand years, the longest serving of any Head Gardener in their history and almost half of his tenure she¡¯d seen personally. ¡°I was not aware we had an elder sir.¡± She replied evenly, scanning his face to see if he¡¯d offer her even a crumb of additional insight. ¡°Startlingly few do.¡± Ackeron replied, ¡°You know the creed of our order, but did you ever wonder how it came about?¡± Nurture the flowers, kill the weeds. The words came almost unbidden to mind, a reflex born of centuries. ¡°Of course. The records were a bit vague but they were apparently first spoken by Gardener Amon.¡± The lich gave her a respectful nod, a teacher pleased at a pupil¡¯s answer. ¡°Indeed. What the records don¡¯t say is that Gardener Amon back then was¡­ well see for yourself.¡± With that he turned to force open an unmarked door and Natalya¡¯s jaw just about dropped in shock. It wasn¡¯t a jungle, but that was only because it had a single tree, a gloriously towering, white flowered specimen that surely should have been visible even from outside the Necropolis. The rest of the foliage was equally as overgrown. Grass taller than she was. Thorned bushes she¡¯d have been unable to force her way through with anything short of an axe. Flowers that had the plants been carnivorous she may well have been in danger. And, overpowering all of it to Natalya¡¯s, the sensation of death, necromancers had died here, so many that there had been wars in their history that would seem mere fisticuffs by comparison. Ackeron stepped inside, beckoning, ¡°Before there were the Gardeners, there was the garden.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 4 - The Death of a Hero It was a terrible day for a funeral. Not that there was such a thing as a good one in the Eternal Swordsman¡¯s opinion. And there had been far too many funerals of late. Still, as he stared down at the ruined form in the casket, he couldn¡¯t withhold the feeling that this was one funeral he shouldn¡¯t be attending, a funeral that shouldn¡¯t even be happening. Circulus Seruatis, The Protected Circle, had not dealt well with the first real conflict in its long history. That was a little unfair really, there were few armies or cities in the entirety of Reath that could have held up to the sort of assault it had endured. A full demonic invasion, three senior liches, one of the major ghoul clans and an automata assault, each was the kind of thing that could fell most cities on their own. Nonetheless casualties had been immense, at least for a town as small as Seruatis. The world¡¯s largest retirement home for magical legends had less than a quarter of its original population and was unlikely to see a resurgence any time soon. Its promise of safety irreparably broken, and the breaking of one pact in particular hung like a smog in the air, so thick that sometimes the immortal feared he might choke on his own tears. Over half the funerals he had attended over the last month had been for children. Trust was a terrible thing sometimes, it had taken thousands of years, and far too many dragonslayers, for Seruatis to become a creche for dragonkind, allowing their children to spend their two centuries of immaturity in safety and comfort rather than having to avoid would-be heroes. Thousands of years to build and yet that trust had been shattered in a single night. Which brought his thoughts reluctantly back to this funeral. To the one person in Seruatis who had not wanted to be there. Who more than any other had been within their rights to simply sit out the desperate battle. Ambassador Janiah Vorthame was, by the standards of heroes, on the smaller side. Once she¡¯d doubtless been a towering figure of a woman but her advancing years had taken a frame an ogre would have been proud of and reduced it to merely broad-shouldered. Still it had not been time that had killed the elderly paladin. The old warrior, dressed in a simple scribe¡¯s robe, was a mess of burns, her copper and grey locks seared off and if a person looked closely they could find flecks of metal where her armour had been melted off of her body. A full dozen paladins, each with enough accolades their heraldry was borderline illegible, stood at attention, their swords forming arches over the coffin as the thirteenth begin her speech. ¡°We are gathered here today to mark the passing of Janiah Vorthame, last scion of the Vorthame line. Janiah was a hard woman, attachment came uneasily to her, friends even more so but what few she made she treasured more than gold. It was perhaps her greatest regret that she would outlive all of them.¡± It had been no small feat to get a paladin force here at all, let alone in just a month, but for Janiah they¡¯d done it. The Forest Von Mori¡¯s elder dryads, at war with the Paladin Protectorate over the murder/kidnap of the great dryad of the forest, had refused point blank to allow the paladins access through its trees to enter Seruatis and had sworn any attempts to do so would be met with lethal force. Seruatis¡¯ response to their oldest ally had been less than kind. They¡¯d sent an escort, and not even Twisted Hawthorn, Von Mori¡¯s warleader, had been prepared to test the Elder Wraith¡¯s patience and whatever the paladins¡¯ thoughts on being protected by an undead they had at least been wise enough to keep them to themselves. ¡°Of her death however, if Janiah had any regrets she overcame them with the bravery that exemplifies the very best of our order. I am told she fell in battle, as she always hoped she would, against an overwhelming foe and outnumbered besides.¡± That was underselling things in The Swordsman¡¯s opinion. The battle had been a frantic affair, he¡¯d been pinned in place holding down a stabilized rift to the Hells as a full legion of ragos had tried to pour through, and if he ever found out who¡¯d hired them there would be a reckoning for that. Seruatis¡¯ other heavy hitters had been similarly tied up. Jay crippled by automata. Nem, probably the strongest of all them, had been out of the town taking the fight to the now fallen Imperator as Seruatis¡¯ great contribution to that battle. That had, afterall, been half the point of lowering Seruatis¡¯ spell shield in the first place. Dus, most ancient and crochety of gorgons, had been tied up saving Jay. The Elder Wraith had been duelling three liches, and while the result of that battle had never been in doubt even so august a fighter as she had been unable to kill them quickly. Pheus, the most active of Seruatis¡¯ three gods-in-hiding, had been trying to tear apart the rift he¡¯d been defending. That had left just Seruatis¡¯ collection of retired mages and warriors, already depleted by so many choosing to unretire in recent months, to fend off the Drake-Eater Cabal, a major clan of ghouls and vampires infamous for feeding on so much draconic flesh they¡¯d assumed some traits of the scaly behemoths. The good news had been that due to the daylight assault the vampire half of the clan had been unable to join in. The other half of that equation was that Seruatis¡¯ not insignificant vampire population had been unable to safely help either. ¡°In the defence of children, Janiah gave her life. She did it without hope of witness or hope of reward.¡± The paladin continued, she had a good speaking voice, and the even cadence was almost hypnotic in The Swordsman¡¯s opinion. He had to wonder just how much practice she¡¯d had giving such speeches. ¡°We can only hope to emulate her example.¡± And what an example it had been. When it had become clear that the ghouls would succeed in forcing their way into the fortified bunker that was the Seruatis caferia, and that all of the town¡¯s powerful defenders were occupied, into the gap had strode Janiah. Drake-Eater ghouls were a lot more dangerous than a typical ghoul, and a typical ghoul could eviscerate most people in seconds. Even before they¡¯d glutted themselves on dragonflesh (and wyvern and wyrm flesh back before they¡¯d gone extinct), they¡¯d had to be the kind of person capable of hunting down a dragon. After that point armoured scales, an absurd resistance to heat and dragonfire were almost gratuitous. The barred double-doors to the cafeteria had been forged from enchanted steel, embedded into thick granite walls. Most siege weapons would have struggled to break through but dragonfire was laced with annihilation and within minutes the wards and runes on the door were erased and the metal ran like water down into the cafeteria itself. The cafeteria should have held despite all that, the small landing that led down to the borderline banquet hall below had no banister and thus no cover. A perfect killing ground for the scorpioballista, essentially a repeating crossbow on a crank handle, placed opposite as well as the half dozen superlative archers supporting it. Against feral ghouls they could have held out until the end of time, or at least until the supply of bolts, quarrels and arrows ran out. Against most ghoul clans even they could have held out until one of Seruatis major powerhouses was freed up to mow down the Drake-Eaters like a scythe through wheat. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. But Drake-Eater coffers ran deep and they¡¯d brought weapons of their own, ancient warriors of their own, and the crossbowghouls were having a distressingly easy time of clearing the raised platform the archers were on with little success beyond the one archer who managed to put an arrow in a ghoul¡¯s eye. Their scales might be a pale imitation of the real thing but they were more than enough to deflect or even shatter mundane arrows and bolts, and the explosive enchantments some of the arrows held were almost uniquely useless against dragonscales. The Seruatis Vaults may well have had a dozens of clever brands of mana-fuelled mayhem but noone had expected the cafeteria to come across anything powerful enough to require esoterics. The wisdom of ages had concluded, not without foundation, that it was said wisdom likely to be the main target and that the best thing to do was to get Seruatis¡¯ ancient powers a good distance away from what could loosely and somewhat inaccurately be described as its civilian population as possible so they didn¡¯t get caught in the crossfire from things like, as a completely random example, a god, Reath¡¯s oldest undead and three lichs armed to teeth fighting to the death. That particular crater, at last check, had still been smouldering. And occasionally sobbing, which was not something anyone wanted to hear from a hole in the ground, especially after an evening¡¯s drinking. Once they¡¯d cleared the archers away the ghouls had used their new vantage point to start clearing the room. Not that they got it all their own way. One particularly sprightly elven blademaster, Elis the Dancer, had pretty much springboarded his way up using one of the tables, skipping the stairs entirely. The ancient elf, old enough hair was tied in a braid around his waist, had cut down over thirty ghouls before he disappeared in his own personal bonfire. Those who had to use the stairs were less successful, the ghouls easily turning the approach into an inferno as their fellows took potshots at the people and dragons hiding behind the tables, pinned in place where noone could even attempt to approach their attackers. Except Janiah Vorthame. The paladin had been quite content to hunker down behind one of the great oak tables, it wasn¡¯t her fight afterall and most of the people around her she¡¯d have happily stabbed in any other circumstance. But the ghouls made a single mistake, they tried to negotiate. For a few brief seconds the hail of crossbow bolts stopped as one of the ghouls yelled out, ¡°Send out the dragons and none of you will get hurt.¡± Janiah hadn¡¯t waited to hear any more. Dragons were hideously destructive beasts with little regard for their fellow sapients and as arrogant as a demon lord of pride stood in front of a mirror. And every single dragon at Seruatis was a child. Everyone had to draw the line somewhere, as the rather startled ghouls discovered as the elderly woman vaulted the table with an incoherent bellow of rage as she sprinted for the stairs. Most of the crossbows missed, noone had expected that kind of burst of speed from someone who blatantly had one foot in the grave. Still, inevitably, some of the bolts struck true and the ghouls relaxed as Janiah stumbled as three of them took her in the back only to franticly try and reload as the paladin caught her footing and began to bound up the stairs four at a time, blade drawn and extended in front of her like a lance. Her chainmail had managed to stop the bolts from piercing, though each one had been like taking a punch between the shoulderblades from someone who knew what they were doing. The stairs however were a far greater challenge, with nowhere to dodge to Janiah had no choice but to just barrel up the stairs and hope for the best. The good news was that she didn¡¯t have to worry about being killed in a hail of bolts. The bad news was that was because there wasn¡¯t any point firing them, they¡¯d have just been burned up in the inferno of dragonfire that the senior ghouls sent careening down the stairs to roast the would-be hero. That was their second mistake. It was possible, perhaps, that the nullsteel of her chainmail would have held up to a cluster of bolts, but it was unlikely in the extreme. Dragonfire on the other hand, all consuming, annihilation-laced dragonfire, was a magical effect, and the null of her armour and the null of her blade turned what should have reduced Janiah to a shadow on the far wall to merely agonizing, her outstretched arm and levelled blade giving the magical fire as much time to be blunted as possible until the tip of the blade ended the stream of flames entirely as it emerged from the back of the ghoul¡¯s skull. None of the ghouls had seen it coming, blinded by their own fire, and they stood flabbergasted for a few moments as Janiah wrenched her blade free from the semi-draconic head and stepped in amongst them. Her blade flashed through the air twice and two more ghouls fell lifeless at her feet as the others tried to flee, unable to turn their flames upon her without scorching their own allies. Erebus had regarded Janiah, despite her complete lack of magic, her merely serviceable bladework and mundane lifespan, to be one of the most dangerous people he had ever had the misfortune to meet. If he¡¯d been watching the battle that followed he¡¯d have revised his threat rating up. The old woman was an absolute menace, the ghouls were faster and stronger and she didn¡¯t give them a single chance to capitalise on that as she beat them back towards the broken doors. Always on the attack because to do anything else would have been certain death. Alas momentum alone wasn¡¯t going to be enough as the ghouls around her fled or died. When the last one fell Janiah looked up to glare at the empty doorway, though her expression softened into shock before it hardened into resolve. ¡°Oh.¡± She said simply as the first bolts took her in the chest. Without any of the clan near her there was nothing stopping those outside simply bombarding her. This time there was no doubt about whether the bolts penetrated past her mail, Janiah¡¯s eyes wide with pain as she staggered, the brown of her robe darkening across her chest as blood flowed from her wounds. Janiah stayed standing, taking a few slow and deliberate steps towards the ghouls arrayed against her before a second volley slammed home, bringing the butchered and blistered paladin to her knees, blade stuck in the ground just to stop herself collapsing entirely, the other hand propped on one of the fallen ghouls. One of the ghouls, a spectacularly mutated specimen on the verge of finishing a pair of blue scaled wings, smiled, ¡°She¡¯s finished. Resume the assau-.¡± He got no further as a crossbow bolt burst through the back of his head, the crossbow Janiah had lifted from the dead ghoul falling limply from her fingers. Ironically if he hadn¡¯t been talking the shot would likely have just bruised his scales. ¡°Now she¡¯s finished.¡± Another of the more draconic ghouls observed with something approaching respect in his voice as he advanced towards her, only to back away sharply as a dozen bellowing heroes came boiling out of the cafeteria. The ghouls tried to stop them, those with dragonsbreath trying to just roast everything in the chokepoint the entrance provided but the flames peeled to either side. Janiah¡¯s broken form providing a beachhead as heroes of ages charged forwards to meet one of Reath¡¯s most powerful ghoul clans in close quarters as Janiah had known they would. All they¡¯d needed was a way to safely get amongst them, and she had provided. The old paladin saw none of it, just focusing on not falling to the floor as she stayed propped up on her blade as the battle played out around her. Slowly the sounds of battles petered out and a taloned hand came to rest of Janiah¡¯s shoulder as she took slow, rasping breath. The feeling as her lungs filled with blood wasn¡¯t a totally unfamiliar one to the old paladin, but there were no healers here today. There would be no last second recovery as she raised her head to stare defiantly at the ghoul that was going to kill her. ¡°A valiant effort.¡± It was the second ghoul that had spoken, soaked in blood and with a ragged wound across his chest and part of his skull exposed. ¡°Would that I had a hundred ghouls like you in the clan and nothing would stop us.¡± ¡°Go to hell. You can¡¯t have them.¡± Janiah spat, and spat for real, bloody spittle falling short of the ghoul. ¡°Perhaps I will. We will have enough dragonflesh to secure our clan for centuries and I suspect things on Reath will be inhospitable for us for some time.¡± The paladin lunged forwards, trying to put her belt knife through the ghoul¡¯s throat. It didn¡¯t even get close, the ghoul catching her wrist and simply squeezing until she dropped the knife, the undead snatching it out of the air almost boredly before he put it through her eye. Slowly the corpse sank to the floor for a final time as the surviving ghouls, less than half of their original number, turned their attention back to the cafeteria. A feast awaited. If there were any justice in the world this was the point where one of Seruatis¡¯ great powers would have swept in, Seruatis¡¯ retirees buying enough time to save the drakelings. Reath was not a just world, even where heroes were concerned, perhaps especially where heroes were concerned. The ghouls had not, as initially believed, killed every dragon in Seruatis but it had been close. Only a week later, as Agh¡¯zak Skullcrusher, freshly returned to Seruatis and head chef of the cafeteria for over a decade, opened his largest pot to make a nourishing stew only to find the four smallest hatchlings had been stuffed inside by some unnoticed saviour ¨C doubtlessly dead in the failed charge. Slowly the funeral wrapped up and the Eternal Swordsman could only watch at the coffin was lowered into the ground. He was getting sick and tired of burying heroes. Oathmaker - Chapter 5 - Best Laid Plans ¡°We just finished burying Janiah.¡± The Swordsman informed the residents of the Seruatis infirmary as he closed the door behind him in something that was not quite a slam. Three of the building¡¯s four occupiers turned to face him. Despite the brutality of the assault on the town, or more accurately because of it, there was only one patient in the infirmary. There had been a plethora of minor injuries but they¡¯d been cleared out days ago, and pleased to leave given the hostile conditions. The woman on the bed was gravely wounded, despite the most powerful healing spells the mages of Reath had invented being used with desperate abandon upon her, the only thing keeping her intestines from spilling on the floor were the bloodsoaked bandages tied around her middle. And what a blood it was, a treacly golden crust dried upon fine silks. It didn¡¯t quite look real, but that was normal for godsblood. She was one of the few survivors of the battle with Tza¡¯rahlitzek, teleported out of the battle while the imperator had been elbow deep in her guts, hand reaching up to pull out her heart and her divine spark with it. Her wounds had been grievous and despite the incredible magics available to them it was fully possible for a god to bleed out if their divine spark wasn¡¯t able to produce mana enough to make godsblood. It had been a close run thing but she was at least stable now, a feat in itself. A feat made all the harder by the spear still held in a white-knuckled deathgrip despite the fact she had not woken once since she¡¯d gotten here. It would have been easier to remove her fingers than to make her let go, breaking them wouldn¡¯t be enough. It was a simple enough spear, a shaft of ash with a long speartip fitted to it. At some point the spear had been broken in half and repaired with some sort of golden resin but beyond that it was one of the most unremarkable weapons any of the ancient creatures in the infirmary had ever laid eyes upon. That fact alone was enough to send shivers down spines and raise goosebumps upon skin. Magical weapons that were grandiose and gaudy could be dangerous, but it took a genuinely deadly magical weapon to be so perfectly unremarkable. A fact reflected by the spear¡¯s simple name. The Rocking. Or in the language it was originally named Gungnir. The enchantment upon it, older than Reath itself, was not flashy or evocative. It was simply the one thing anyone holding a spear really wanted from it. Gungnir did not miss. It mattered not the skill of the person holding it, how clumsy the grip or even if the wielder had their eyes closed, Gungnir would go where they wanted it. What they had not known about the enchantment was that it even worked when the owner was unconscious, Pheus had come damn close to being skewered when he¡¯d tried to give medical attention and had refused to come within ten feet of her ever since. The only person who could even touch her without having to fight for their life was the god that had arrived alongside her, and who hadn¡¯t left her side since said arrival. Maybe Erebus could have done it, saving someone¡¯s life tended to endear a person. That really would have been the ideal, the necromancer was a master healer amongst his many other talents, a solution only slightly undermined by Erebus not just being dead, but extra-dead. What that had meant in practice was that The Swordsman and Nem had, with some help from her companion, had to hold her still enough that aid could be rendered. Even for a god of vengeance and a multi-millennia old, nigh unkillable blademaster it had been hard work. The new god was a shaggy, red haired bear of a man, broad enough at the shoulders he had to go sideways through doors and just shy of seven foot, his skin the weathered hues of someone who spent most of his time outdoors. And that was about all they knew about him. He¡¯d been almost completely taciturn since arriving at Seruatis, the only subject he¡¯d been prepared to elaborate on was treatment for his companion¡¯s injuries. He was also jumpy. The Swordsman couldn¡¯t blame him for that, under most circumstances a god alone on Reath would find their divine spark harvested in short order, even he¡¯d been surprised by how untempted Seruatis¡¯ trio of divinities had been and he was as close to a friend as Pheus, Jay and Nem would allow themselves to have. Ironically, and inevitably, all attempts to assure the nameless young man that he wasn¡¯t being lulled into a false sense of security had done quite the opposite. At the immortal¡¯s announcement, Nem merely sighed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes, ¡°Who?¡± The Swordsman resisted the urge to hit the weary god, it really was possible that the god of vengeance really had no idea, or memory, of Janiah¡¯s sacrifice. Since returning from the battle with Tz¡¯arahlitzek the ancient being had been darkly changed. Of the three it was Nem who had not let his claws grow blunt, lest disaster, or more accurately Dus, fall upon them in exile. He had been uniquely suited to do battle with the imperator, and it had not mattered. Only Erebus¡¯ intervention had saved his life, an act the god could never forgive and now would never have the chance to. To say the god had been singleminded since his return was like saying zombies smelled a touch musty. Every single moment that hadn¡¯t been spent guarding the wounded goddess, or overpowering Gungnir so her bandages could be changed, had been spent training. Be it at skill at arms or simply focusing his divine intent. That last one was a terrible sight to behold, as the Drake-Eater Clan had been learning for the last month. The god of vengeance had taken the assault upon his home very personally and if The Swordsman focused on the scrying orb he could just make out the form of a Drake-Eater ghoul writhing, scaly form almost entirely obscured by the ants that were merrily pulling them apart. It was a particularly grisly death for a ghoul, as an undead there was no heart to be stopped by the acidic venom the ants¡¯ stings injected, they¡¯d be aware and conscious of what was happening until the ants started in on their brain. The Eternal Swordsman let his gaze drift from the orb back up to Nem¡¯s searching gaze, ¡°The paladin ambassador.¡± Nem¡¯s face twisted with rage, ¡°A bad business when a diplomat dies under your watch and you don¡¯t plan to destroy their nation.¡± The scrying orb flickered to a new Drake-Eater, a vampire this time. ¡°I name you the enemy of crows.¡± Normally that sort of pronouncement would have slowly escalated over days if not weeks, yet The Swordsman could only watch agog as within seconds a black-feathered missile crashed into the unsuspecting vamp and began pecking, starting with the eyes. Blinded, the vampire¡¯s death was a foregone conclusion as more of the birds descended. He suppressed a shudder, Nem was vindictive as a matter of course but the hate he managed to instil into each word had been something new. He knew why of course, they all did, and Nem¡¯s hatred was all the stronger for their knowledge. A battle between gods (or god and imperator) was not so simple as mere skill at arms, though that was still a facet of it. A god embodied, to varying degrees, an aspect or aspects of reality, and in the fight against the exhausted and severely depleted Tz¡¯arahlitzek, Nem had directly pitted his aspect of vengeance against her aspects of shadows, and lost utterly. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough killing for today.¡± A cold feminine voice declared, reaching out to take the scrying orb from Nem. For a second it looked the god would argue but he stilled under the final occupant of the room¡¯s gaze. Dus, progenitor of gorgons, could not turn a god to stone with just her eyes but it wasn¡¯t for lack of trying. Typically she¡¯d have covered her face to protect those around her, but here, amongst her oldest and direst foes there was no need. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you pity them?¡± Nem sneered, staring unflinchingly at the orb as his will was made manifest in a literal murder of crows. ¡°No. I pity you.¡± The gorgon told him flatly, ¡°Enough Nem, I will not stand by and watch my dearest enemy warp themselves into a grim shadow of the man I wish to kill.¡± The Swordsman had often thought, in the relative privacy of his own head, that in a perverse way Dus was the finest devotee Nemesis had ever had, and was perhaps singlehandedly the reason he had not faded as much as his fellow gods. Still Dus¡¯ words worked, Nem forcing himself to look away from the scrying orb, ¡°I would have thought your time better spent getting reacquainted with your niece.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Ariadne¡¯s a big girl, she knows duty takes priority. Still if you¡¯re so concerned for our reunion you could always stop moping like an overindulged child.¡± That was another big change that had been thrust upon Seruatis, Ariadne, first daughter of Ariadne, the line unbroken all the way back to the progenitor of the species, the original Ariadne, had come to visit, after tens of millennia imprisoned in the Underreath. There had been so many upheavals in the last month but this one alone made him bitter. His failures he could handle, that foes attacked in a moment of vulnerability was merely what foes did, that yet more gods survived was a boon to Reath, but Ariadne¡¯s arrival, just a week after the disaster and with her entire Great Web in tow, tasted like ashes. The Archmage of Weaving was not quite a power on the level of the gods or The Swordsman, or a nigh-unkillable ball of hate like Dus, but outside of the Primordial and Old War there wasn¡¯t a single battlefield across time where an ancient divinely-curse archmage lich wasn¡¯t a tide-turning killing machine. It was purely irrational to blame Ariadne for the slaughter, and The Swordsman knew it, but that didn¡¯t mean he could just stop feeling it. He¡¯d met mages who could control their own emotions like that, and for a time he¡¯d envied them until he¡¯d realised they inevitably became empty shells or axe-crazy killers. Nem it seemed also shared an antipathy towards the undead spider, ¡°The last thing we need is two god-cursed conspiring against us, if my ¡®moping¡¯ as you call it spares us that fate then let there be nought but tears and gnashing of teeth.¡± The gorgon rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to speak before she hurriedly turned away from her foe, eyes screwed shut as she fumbled for the mask at her belt. It was a close thing too as Saiko and Agh¡¯zak burst through the open door. While a gorgon¡¯s gaze was no longer a death sentence, it certainly made conversations awkward afterwards and even Seruatis didn¡¯t have the magepower on hand to turn a person back to flesh at a moment¡¯s notice. They¡¯d had mages that could do it in the past, but given most people came here to die it wasn¡¯t a power they had often. Nem rose to his feet at the sight of the Swordsman¡¯s apprentice and retired orc warlord, giving them both a shallow bow. ¡°Paragon Saiko and Paragon Skullcrusher, how can we help you?¡± The Swordsman did not get whiplash turning to stare at Nem, but it was a close run thing. The closest even the most exceptional non-divine beings could manage was a sort of respectful wariness or standoffish tolerance. Seeing one of them show genuine respect to someone just felt unnatural after all this time. The titles were also a nice touch. According to Dus the traditional title for anyone who completed a divinely bestowed quest was hero, but Nem and his brothers had taken the view that the title was so diluted now that something new was needed. Saiko bowed back, a touch stiffly, ¡°We¡¯re going to need to beg a leave of absence, the Council of Mages has acceded to our request. The expedition leaves within the week, a teleport specialist will be arriving two miles south-east of Seruatis in two days to bring us to meet the scouting team they¡¯ve selected.¡± ¡°Leave of access granted.¡± The Swordsman replied smoothly, ¡°Stay safe Sai.¡± ¡°What? I don¡¯t get any words of encouragement?¡± Agh¡¯zak demanded good-naturedly. ¡°You I trust not to need to be explicitly told not to die.¡± Their patron replied dryly. ¡°Is that everything?¡± Nem inquired politely, or perhaps expectantly. ¡°I believe so¡­ should there have been something else?¡± Saiko asked bemusedly. ¡°Potentially. I have guests I was hoping to arrive shortly.¡± The god shrugged, ¡°Evidently they¡¯re still struggling to pull free of the necromancer¡¯s death and its resultant chaos.¡± The Swordsman sighed, ¡°You know it would have been polite to tell me this a lot earlier¡­ how troublesome are these guests likely to be?¡± ¡°No more than the spider has been, at least individually. Collectively I hope they will rival the hells-forsaken necromancer for sheer chaos.¡± The guardian of Seruatis sighed deeply at that, ¡°Definitely needed more warning.¡± ¡°You liked the necromancer.¡± Nem pointed out, not quite hiding a smile. ¡°As a person. Not as a borderline avatar of entropy itself.¡± ¡°That surprises me.¡± The god admitted, ¡°He barely was a person come the end.¡± ¡°On that we disagree.¡± ¡°That aside, you would approve of what I¡¯m planning and I would share it with you if it were safe to do so.¡± Vengeance literally incarnate assured him. ¡°I hope you¡¯re not planning what I think you¡¯re planning.¡± Vengeance metaphorically incarnate interjected, Dus¡¯ sightless mask only marginally less imposing than her actual face. ¡°Quite so.¡± Nem smiled. The Swordsman sighed again, rubbing exhaustedly at his eyes. He might not be able to get physically tired anymore but mentally was another matter entirely. ¡°Is the deniability I¡¯m being given here of the political kind or the ¡®people will try to kill me¡¯ kind?¡± ¡°Political.¡± Nem assured him, ¡°Though I¡¯ve oft found the two blend together after a point.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re doing this for a reason beyond your own sick amusement?¡± The immortal triple-checked. ¡°Definitely. As amusing as empowering a quartet of mayflies may be, I¡¯m rather fond of myself. Giving even mediocre mages the capacity to actually harm me isn¡¯t something I do lightly.¡± ¡±Fine. Fine. Keep your secrets.¡± The Swordsman declared, ¡°Now Nem, go be useful somewhere else. Dus feel free to keep stalking him if it keeps you out of trouble. Sai, is there anything you both need for your next sojourn into the Underreath?¡± ¡°Nothing the Council won¡¯t provide themselves. Maybe arrange a path back through Von Mori for our return? If this goes well it shouldn¡¯t take more than a couple of months.¡± ¡°That could prove difficult. Von Mori is not a forgiving place at the best of times and I¡¯m afraid to say likes you not at all.¡± The Swordsman pointed out. ¡°Still I can at least promise to try.¡± ¡°Noone can ask more than that.¡± Saiko said with somewhat forced cheer, whilst the forest¡¯s antipathy towards him was something even he would admit was deserved¡­ well the dryad¡¯s of Von Mori, while prepared to spare his life as The Swordsman¡¯s apprentice, was incredibly creative when it came to producing low level misery. The last time he¡¯d left Seruatis he¡¯d been kept up all night by branches scratching on his tent, water being actively funnelled into the ground beneath him, or, in one particularly vindictive instance, waking up to find his tent had been moved half a mile away during the night. Every roots in the forest had tried to hit him, every branch had somehow been at eye level, and every single one had been wreathed in brambles or poison ivy. The return journey had not been half so miserable, even the Forest Von Mori it seemed has a small unnurtured flame of sentimentality deep within its cold, collective heart, at least where returning heroes were concerned. It was a poor tale indeed where, with the foe vanquished and a people free, the malnourished and half-crippled hero died of hypothermia a couple days from home. Saiko nodded respectfully to his mentor before leaving yet Agh¡¯zak remained, the orc getting a curious glance from the departing ex-mercenary before he simply decided it wasn¡¯t his business. The Eternal Swordsman took the time to consider the orc warlord-turned-chef, silence stretching between them. Agh¡¯zak was big even for an orc, now just over seven feet tall. He¡¯d been just a hair under that when he¡¯d left, the grievious injuries he¡¯d sustained in his quest apparently had started another growth spurt in its arduous task of healing him from what The Swordsman had been told had been a collapsed lung at minimum. While the wound had healed well, the scar it had left was impressive, still red and puckered, and almost perfectly erasing the tattoo on his chest that had marked him as the warchief of the Tundra Boars tribe. If The Swordsman had been inclined to believe in such things he¡¯d have suspected the hand of Fate itself had guided the blade that had done it. It wasn¡¯t Agh¡¯zak¡¯s only scar, most of them faded with time now and mostly ritual scars on his arms to denote a kill on the battlefield. There were enough of those he¡¯d run out of room at some point, the only scarless section the large red tattoo of a flame that marked him as a berserker. Most people upon finding out the jolly orc was officially a berserker laughed about it. The smart ones got very quiet and very respectful very quickly. The really smart ones just kept treating Agh¡¯zak however they¡¯d already been treating him, if the orc was liable to explode like an overconfident fire mage after their second pint then he¡¯d have already done so. The Swordsman had never seen Agh¡¯zak in the grips of rage, but he suspected it was a terrible thing. He¡¯d met many masters of fury in his long life, some who¡¯s bellow had shaken Seruatis and who even his magical enhanced strength could not restrain, in those circumstances Dus had often had to turn them to stone to stop their rampage. He¡¯d seen worse than that, his friend Erebus had been gripped so tightly by rage that sometimes it had been hard to see the person behind it. A cold, creeping fury at a world that every day disappointed him in its callousness and cruelty. Privately the old immortal suspected that Agh¡¯zak was likely the former type, and that when his fuse finally ran out it would take an army to kill him. It was that final thought that told him why Agh¡¯zak had stayed behind. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you too.¡± He told the orc softly. Agh¡¯zak¡¯s wiry black eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead at that pronouncement. ¡°It was that obvious?¡± ¡°I knew when you arrived here that you would leave us one day.¡± The Swordsman told him simply, ¡°You¡¯re a little ahead of schedule and I¡¯ll certainly miss food I can taste but this day was always coming.¡± ¡°How is it that you¡¯re so sure about this when I¡¯m not?¡± The orc mused with a bemused shake of his head, ¡°When I came here it was in disgrace, to go home now¡­ I¡¯m not sure how I¡¯ll be received.¡± ¡°Like a hero I would imagine. People love tales of valour, and there are few quite so gladdening as one who leaves in disgrace to return in glory.¡± ¡°Hard to prove though. People won¡¯t notice the difference for decades, and the Questing Beast left no body.¡± Agh¡¯zak noted. ¡°The scar¡¯s pretty convincing.¡± The Swordsman noted dryly, ¡°And I¡¯m sure Sai would happily tag along to convince people. He has a certain affable charm I am told. And your current project certainly will add some weight to your words ¡®Lifegiver¡¯.¡± Agh¡¯zak winced, ¡°He really is determined to make that title stick isn¡¯t he?¡± ¡°I rather like it. History has more than enough killers.¡± The Swordsman shrugged. ¡°Either way¡­¡± The old monster offered his chef of two decades his hand, ¡°it¡¯s been a pleasure.¡± ¡°Likewise.¡± Agh¡¯zak sighed, shaking the offered hand before making for the door. ¡°Oh and Agh¡¯zak¡­¡± The Swordsman said abruptly as the massive orc began to cross the threshold of the door, ¡°if it does go badly, you¡¯ll still have a place here.¡± ¡°If it goes badly the only place I¡¯ll be going is be going is six feet down.¡± The orc laughed. ¡°And thank you.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 6 - Becoming Patient Zero Alec was getting sick and tired of feeling helpless. To the point that he was getting sick and tired of being sick and tired of feeling helpless. It wasn¡¯t even the first time he¡¯d had that particular thought, and the terrible irony was that if he compared himself to the Alec of just a few months ago, freshly kidnapped/rescued from the massacre of Mori¡¯s Respite, the gulf was almost unimaginable. The weapons training he¡¯d received from Saiko, the bevy of magical equipment from the Seruatis residents, all the magical power that came from being bonded to Holly (or more accurately the power that Holly received from him given he was yet to cast a spell), the alchemicals taken from Sato¡¯s corpse, the fact he¡¯d killed a man¡­ The Alec of those previous months would have had no idea how to handle a skeleton running at him blade in hand. Current Alec would take the skeleton¡¯s hand off at the wrist, reach through the ribcage and pull the spine apart, shattering the binding maintaining the undead servitor. Despite all of that, he was under absolutely no illusions that either he or Holly had survived that trial on their own merits. To be so utterly in the power of others was a sensation he was heartily sick of, to have no input on whether they lived or died. The feeling had gotten worse since Erebus had left. Before, for all he¡¯d had a similar lack of control over his destiny, he¡¯d at least known there was an indefatigable guardian fighting on his side unconditionally. That if there was no way he could possibly hope to defeat a given monster, whatever it was was equally outclassed in the face of the necromancer in who¡¯s wake he¡¯d found himself pulled. That illusion, and that safety, had been shattered by Erebus¡¯ fleeing into the hells. It wasn¡¯t just that there were threats so deadly Alec couldn¡¯t hope to survive them, to witness the archmage in single combat with what was, ultimately, a demonic god, had rammed home that safety itself was an illusion. There was always something bigger, something stronger, older, wiser or faster. ¡®You¡¯re moping.¡¯ The thought was an intrusive one, mostly because it wasn¡¯t his. Alec rolled his eyes at the accusation, turning his head just a little to glance side-long at Holly. The dryad¡¯s lips were pressed tight together in concentration as she stared a hole into the back of the necromancer, Gardener Medin, tasked to lead them to ¡®their rooms¡¯. Neither of them was convinced that the rooms wouldn¡¯t be some kind of dingy cell. With just how committed necromancers seemed to be to the aesthetic that might very well just be where students were kept, no nefarious intentions needed. But just in case evil was indeed afoot, Holly was ready to act. He could feel it in their shared soul, in the way Holly was pulling magicka, the unique refined mana every living being produced, from him, to cast a spell if needed. It wouldn¡¯t be artful. Holly¡¯s spellwork currently consisted of just vaguely shunting force in a direction, though for Alec even that was enviable. He could feel it in other ways, like the way her more human senses were bleeding into his own where she was pushing them aside to focus on the exclusively supernatural ones every dryad had. It was a sign of just how much she trusted him these days, it was also nauseating as the doubled input washed over him, something the human mind had never been designed for as Holly let him decide if there was anything happening around her that she¡¯d need to pay attention to while she searched for any plantlife that might respond to her call. There was astonishingly little, with a building as old as the Necropolis she¡¯d have expected to find a plethora of moss to entreat, old trees clinging stubbornly to life in courtyards never designed to contain such a large plant, grass aplenty as a decorative afterthought, but there was almost nothing. And the ¡®almost¡¯ was strange. Normally plants were desperate to help a dryad in need, yet these plants were distant, physically and metaphorically, and loved her not at all. With a shiver she pulled back her senses, taking back her hearing and sight from Alec in time to hear Gardener Medin exclaim, ¡°Ah here we are. You¡¯re rather lucky you know. Advanced students get their own room, though I¡¯m told you two will have to share.¡± It wasn¡¯t the cold iron-barred cell both had been quietly expecting, at least from the outside, just a simple wooden door, cheaply made perhaps which was an oddity in itself given the Necropolis¡¯ commitment to gothic grandeur, and one of several dozen identical doors that dotted the corridor in even intervals. If the world had any romance to it, any inherent mysticism, then the number on the door would have been a thirteen, perhaps even a seven or the necromantically coveted eight, but Holly and Alec had no such luck, their door was number eleven. ¡°There¡¯s only one bed I¡¯m afraid.¡± Medin continued, ¡°New students don¡¯t usually have familiars large enough to need their own mattress.¡± ¡°Alec¡¯s not a familiar.¡± Holly snapped, mischief dancing behind emerald eyes while a bark-hued arm went protectively around the teenager¡¯s waist. Alec¡¯s glare would have earned him a standing ovation from Dus herself, he¡¯d been about to protest on Holly¡¯s behalf, just a half-second slower and a lot more sincere in the bargain. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Medin chuckled, ¡°Not my business. Though if you want to share your tale with me I¡¯ll make it worth your while, good gossip¡¯s hard currency here.¡± Holly considered it for a moment before shaking her head, ¡°I don¡¯t want to tell you anything that might get you killed.¡± The necromancer paused mid-titter, eyes narrowing, ¡°Sweet Martyr, you¡¯re serious. Well let¡¯s just continue on with the tour, you¡¯ve got a common room down the end of that corridor, never been there myself ¨C I wasn¡¯t an advanced student ¨C but I¡¯m told it¡¯s cozy. You¡¯ve got a small group of fellow students this year, though in my opinion they¡¯re weirder than normal.¡± He paused trying to think of what else was important to know, if this was part of Gardener Medin¡¯s normal duties Alec would have eaten his scabbard. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ don¡¯t go to the library without a fully qualified necromancer to protect you. The skeletons in the red uniforms should do whatever you tell them. If any of the ghosts try to lead you anywhere, and I mean anywhere at all, you yell for help and try to find a living mage. And I do mean living, you never know for sure who the liches will side with. Here¡¯s your room-key, try not to lose it, and if you do lose it under no circumstance try to pick the lock¡­ I think that¡¯s everything. Good luck.¡± Medin started to walk away, leaving Alec holding a surprisingly heavy brass key. The teenagers staring at his retreating back before they realised their only source of information was making his escape. ¡°Wait a minute!¡± Alec yelled, running after the not-quite-fleeing mage, ¡°What about lessons? What about food?!¡± ¡°Not my job.¡± Medin snapped back over his shoulder, ¡°I was told to see you safely to your room and I¡¯ve done that. Now I¡¯m getting away from whatever deadly secrets you idiots are holding before someone decides I¡¯m the one who knows too much.¡± Alec and Holly were left staring at the empty corridor as Medin rounded the corner, the necromancer starting to pick up the pace into a full run as he got away from the information equivalent of Patient Zero. ¡°That could have gone better.¡± Alec noted bitterly as even their guide¡¯s retreating footsteps disappeared. ¡°Could have gone worse.¡± Holly countered, ¡°Noone tried to kill us.¡± ¡°Yeah, normal necromancers are merely scared to be seen breathing the same air as us.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mind them being scared of us.¡± The dryad stated, showing far more teeth than necessary in her smile. ¡°I do. We¡¯re going to need some friends here if we¡¯re going to stay alive because I do not think Natalya¡¯s sticking around to protect us.¡± Holly shrugged at that, ¡°Cowards make poor friends.¡± Alec conceded the point, walking back to her to slip the key into the lock and, with the resistance of tumblers that hadn¡¯t seen oil this side of the century, twisting it to let the door swing smoothly open. Predictably it creaked. The room was¡­ surprisingly nice. The furnishings, while old, were more weathered than ruined. The bed frame an elderly teak, and the wardrobe and dresser the same. A small bookshelf was affixed to the wall opposite the bed, devoid of books admittedly which made it just a shelf for now. There was even a stand by the bed for his staff, and the bed itself was borderline luxurious, at least by the standards of a teenager who¡¯d been having to use the floor as oft as not lately. He¡¯d been expecting a small cramped bunk in the corner with a straw mattress and a pillow that was at least half filled with something analogous to concrete. Instead the mattress had a definite bounce to it, as Holly found out as she more or less threw herself on it with a pleased sigh. The pillows were numerous and feather-filled and it even had a full duvet. The only real problem in the room was the mage-lamp in the corner that neither Alec or Holly had any idea how to turn off, at least until the noted the carefully folded sheet of black cloth for just covering the orange-yellow glowing orb. ¡°I see I¡¯m taking the floor tonight.¡± Alec observed dryly as Holly burrowed her way under the covers, the teenager beginning to unpack his bedroll. ¡®Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡¯ Holly thought bluntly at him. ¡®Just share the damn bed.¡¯ It was moments like this that reminded Alec that for all he shared his soul with Holly, they were still very, very different people with very different upbringings. His own, as a totally random and in no way relevant example, had been, if not outright prudish, then at least had enough of a focus on modesty that Holly¡¯s well intentioned thought had turned his cheeks a deep strawberry red at least until he realised he was being ridiculous. If Holly planned to perv on him then all she had to do was piggyback his eyes the next time he tried to bathe, and vice versa. Perhaps shockingly, at least to an outsider, neither of them had made the tempt, or even been tempted for that matter. He could feel her emotions washing over him right now and there was nothing coy, lustful or even curious coming across, just bemusement and annoyance that he was making this a big deal. With a shrug Alec moving to lay on the bed, staying above the covers so he could stare at the ceiling. A bleak edifice of concrete that was about as featureless as the ice of the northern wastes. ¡°Your sword¡¯s digging into me.¡± Holly complained, tunneling up to the surface next to him. ¡°Sorry.¡± He mumbled, embarrassed as he unclipped the blade from his belt and placed it carefully under the bed, making sure the hilt was to hand if he needed it before adding his hoard of alchemicals on the basis that blowing himself up by rolling over in his sleep was a pretty shoddy epitaph. ¡°So necromancy lessons¡­¡± The dryad began, not quite sure how to even complete her question. ¡°It will be dangerous.¡± Alec answered anyway, ¡°Erebus never made a secret of the fact students die sometimes.¡± ¡°Yes, but then¡­¡± She let out a deep breath, ¡°but then it¡¯s our turn to be the one people depend on.¡± Her human half considered his answer carefully, ¡°Yes, but that doesn¡¯t mean we have to walk in his footsteps. We¡¯ve got options.¡± Erebus had been very clear on that. The necromancer desperate to dissuade them from following in his footsteps and both of them could see why. When they¡¯d last seen Erebus, carrying his beloved teacher¡¯s broken body through a gate to the Hells, neither of them had ever seen anyone look even half so lonely. ¡°We¡¯ve got each other.¡± Holly pointed out, the warm smile cooling into something steely as she added, ¡°And we know what¡¯s out there now.¡± ¡°Some of what¡¯s out there.¡± Alec corrected, ¡°But you¡¯re right, someone¡¯s got to¡­ to stand up and fight when monsters attack. There¡¯s no good reason why it shouldn¡¯t be us.¡± The young dryad nodded but didn¡¯t yet put voice to the other thing they both agreed on, the silence stretching between them for a subjective eternity until they broke it both at once, ¡°I¡¯m scared.¡± The duo shared a glance then broke into nervous laughter, Alec continuing, ¡°Of course we¡¯re scared, we know what¡¯s out there.¡± ¡°Some of what¡¯s out there.¡± Holly flashed him a thousand volt smirk. She didn¡¯t get a retort, Alec just shaking his head in false exasperation before he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep. Oathmaker - Chapter 7 - The Apocryphal Tale of the First Gardener The Garden, it turned out, was perhaps undeserving of its capital letter. Natalya¡¯s first impression had been of a great expanse of overgrown wilderness but that had proven false. In fact the foliage she¡¯d been able to see from the door had turned out to be an ivy strewn wall buried under the thick leaves. It was, in short, rather small. Only a few trees, hedges and assorted plants, just all allowed to grow out of control and, she suspected through magic, kept alive so it could keep growing past the point any normal plant would have died off. Despite its overgrown state there were still a few small sections of order amongst the cacophany of plants. A small section of flowerbed where lilies grew. They weren¡¯t magnificent specimens either. A few were even wilting a little, the sight of which had Ackeron, slaughterer of thousands, slayer of paladin and rogue mage alike, rushing for his watering can and fussily checking them for disease. The other focal points were a little more striking. A gravestone that was a beacon to her magical senses, doubly impressive given she hadn¡¯t sensed a wisp of its mana before stepping into the garden. The striking part was the grave had been worn away to the point the text was illegible despite the absurd preservation spells on it. The final point of note was a tree, a truly massive specimen that climbed towards the sky as if it might one day actually reach it. It should have been possible to see its silvery trunk from just about anywhere in the greater Necropolis and yet she¡¯d never seen it before in her life. She did however recognise it, not from the bark ¨C she¡¯d never been an expert on trees ¨C but the small black clusters of berries growing very much out of season from its branches were quite distinctive. The other big clue was the dryad leaning against the trunk, her expression one of resigned bemused as she watched the gears turn behind Natalya¡¯s eyes. ¡°So when you said meet The Elder¡­?¡± ¡°Gardener Natalya, I would like to introduce you to Gardener Elder.¡± Ackeron said, leathery lips twitching in a smile that creaked in the process. The dryad sighed, more resigned than annoyed, ¡°I¡¯m all but certain it¡¯s his only joke.¡± Natalya gave her a sympathetic smile before her eyes flickered to the towering elder tree, ¡°The title certainly fits, your tree looks ancient.¡± ¡°Rude.¡± Elder laughed, ¡°And I¡¯m not as venerable as I look, the soil here is simply fantastic, and the mana in the air is incredible.¡± ¡°Then how old¡­?¡± ¡°Again, rude. And just a little under seven hundred. Dad here was very proud.¡± ¡°Dad?!¡± Natalya spluttered, turning to regard the ancient lich with open befuddlement. ¡°It¡¯s the closest word for it.¡± Ackeron said with a slightly discomfited shrug, ¡°For reasons I couldn¡¯t possibly speculate upon, noone has ever created a word for ¡®undead necromancer that planted and nurtured a berry in the hopes it might become self-aware¡¯. I wouldn¡¯t say I care for her like a daughter¡­ but I do care for her. Hence my introducing you.¡± Those words sent a shiver down Natalya¡¯s spine as a dire suspicion began to form, ¡°You know sir, when you brought me here I feared I was about to be handed a shovel and told to dig an unmarked grave.¡± ¡°I considered it.¡± Ackeron admitted, ¡°It would certainly have been the easiest of my options, but the easy option in my experience is universally the wrong one.¡± ¡°He says as if he doesn¡¯t kill people regularly.¡± Elder quipped, the dryad¡¯s eyes glowing slightly green as they swept up and down Natalya. ¡°I suppose a little history lesson is in order, enough to put things in the proper context.¡± The lich declared, walking slowly towards the gravestone, beckoning his subordinates to follow. ¡°Gardener Natalya, would you care to guess who¡¯s grave this is?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have a name for them, but at a guess¡­ the first Gardener?¡± She replied after a moment¡¯s thought. ¡°I don¡¯t have a name for them either, but you are correct. This grave goes all the way back to the very founding of the Necropolis, despite the fact it has been razed three times somehow this garden and this grave have survived it all. We aren¡¯t sure how.¡± Ackeron explained, ¡°I¡¯d say we¡¯re getting into the deep secrets of our people, but that¡¯s not the reasons we don¡¯t share the things I¡¯m about to tell you. If you¡¯re hoping for dark and dire revelations I must disappoint you.¡± ¡°Then why all the cloak and dagger sir?¡± Natalya asked bemused despite herself, in her centuries of service Ackeron had been an unapproachable and aloof figure, and she¡¯d been a Gardener in good standing for nearly all of it, to see him so unguarded¡­ the shiver chose that moment to crawl back up her spine. ¡°We are primarily an order of assassins. As much as I have debated dispensing with the theatre, far too many people would miss the mystique I fear. People like to feel important. Regardless, the real reason we don¡¯t share our history even amongst our own members is tragically simple, we don¡¯t actually know much of it. For all I know our order may actually be founded upon a manual for good gardening recovered during one of our many falls rather than a set of principles to guide people through an uncertain and dangerous world.¡± Natalya considered how most necromancers would react to that revelation, ¡°Best people don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± Elder echoed, ¡°A not inconsiderable number of the corpses beneath you are necromancers who reacted very poorly to the news.¡± ¡°What we have been able to patch together is that the Gardeners were founded by the First Gardener during the Fall of the Gods. Beyond that it¡¯s all rather apocryphal, still it was in many ways the founding order of the Necropolis, with none of the others being formally created until after the war. Of the five founders she came from the humblest beginnings, born into slavery and made to tend a garden by her owners, a noble family of some variety.¡± Ackeron gave the grave a respectful nod before continuing. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°She was, by what accounts remain, a humble magical talent who used it to secretly nurture the plants in her care, only able to puppeteer a single body, though that would come later. By the standards of necromancy today she would have likely failed our entrance exam.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to guess she slew her enslavers to join the war?¡± Natalya asked hopefully. ¡°Quite the opposite I¡¯m afraid, the war decided to come to her instead. She was romantically involved with one of the ladies of the family, who had collectively, and in my opinion ironically, sided against the gods. Their manor was occupied by so-called holy warriors, none of the bloodline were spared.¡± Nat winced, she¡¯d been alive for the last Necromancer-Paladin war, if only just. She had a pretty good idea what was coming next. ¡°The slaves however were regarded as too useful, and too clueless, to just kill. Almost all warfare is logistics afterall. Nearly all of them were put back to work.¡± ¡°Except her.¡± Natalya whispered. ¡°Except her.¡± Ackeron confirmed, as matter of factly as he could manage,¡°a well maintained topiary might be a source of some acclaim, but it has little use in a war and she was, to her misfortune, a rather beautiful young woman. The general occupying the manor took her as a pleasure slave.¡± It was to the lich¡¯s credit that it sounded like he was fighting not throw up in his mouth. ¡°The First Gardener resolved to murder the man that first night. But for vengeance, and for freedom, she stayed her hand, for months, as she learned through her proximity to him and his command how battles were fought, supply trains managed, until she felt herself ready and she smothered him in bed.¡± Ackeron¡¯s satisfied smirk was almost a blade in itself, ¡°Personally I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have been so restrained, but she needed the body intact. For the next two weeks the general¡¯s decision making grew increasingly bizarre, many ¡®traitors¡¯ in his command were killed, all culminating in a truly disastrous defence as the manor fell to a necromantic assault as her fallen lover¡¯s allies liberated the building.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll confess her machinations might have been totally irrelevant beyond the experience it gave her commanding troops and insinuating herself into confidences, for amongst the necromantic forces was the Elder Wraith, or Alara the Godless as she was known then.¡± ¡°If you know the Elder Wraith¡¯s name then why is all of this so uncertain?¡± Natalya demanded, sensing a rat. It was Elder who answered, ¡°She refuses to be interviewed, or give any kind of account. Trust me, he¡¯s tried, I¡¯ve tried, our predecessors have tried. We¡¯ve bribed, begged, lied, even threatened to absolutely no avail.¡± ¡°Regardless, Alara knew talent when she saw it and took the First Gardener beneath her spectral wing, the wraith taking her as her apprentice. The First Gardener would go on to kill and puppet a lot of the gods¡¯ mortal leadership during the war, as well as train many others on how to do the same in what would become the Order of the Gardeners.¡± ¡°When the war was finished, and the Necropolis founded, she would return to her home and painstakingly move the plants there to the garden you see now, though of course none survive now. Sadly she was a poor necromancer, and we knew little of how to create sapient undead back then. She lived long enough to be considered old, and when she passed the first of her students, who was the most powerful as well, chose to look after this garden in her absence. It was never really intended as a formal thing at first, but over time it became the norm, the Head Gardener looks after garden. Which brings us, at last, to here and now.¡± Ackeron¡¯s empty sockets seemed to Natalya to all but drill into her skull, and she didn¡¯t need magic to feel the weight of his attention. ¡°You want me to be Head Gardener?¡± She demanded, her terrible suspicion all but confirmed. ¡°You are one of a number of candidates I am considering. The choice is¡­ difficult, and I fear more complicated for me than for my predecessors.¡± Ackeron looked pained as he admitted, ¡°I have been Head Gardener for over a thousand years, twice that of any who came before me. It was for the longest time a great source of shame, that I had never seen a cause worth throwing away my life. Then I concluded that it was simply that the world was waning, that the great powers of Reath were dead, fled or content to wile away eternity wherever they were.¡± ¡°I maintain you were right.¡± Elder snapped sharply, ¡°You¡¯re just being overdramatic in your old age, you¡¯ll be in charge for another thousand years and bitching for nearly all of it.¡± The lich shook his head, ¡°No. Reath is going to be almost inundated with demons over the next century, possibly even within the year. The power vacuum from Tsa¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s death will force huge numbers into Reath, and with how much was lost to kill her we are ill-prepared to fight it.¡± ¡°How so?¡± Natalya demanded, ¡°The Necropolis is more powerful than it has ever been. We¡¯ve almost five hundred liches alone.¡± ¡°And of those five hundred how many had ever seen a real fight?¡± Ackeron countered, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you, before the Charigris¡¯ incident there were forty-five. Now there are just thirty. And it¡¯s bad across the board, not just us. The Academy Vulcanus are auditing their records, they¡¯ve lost no less than a hundred cults without even knowing it. That¡¯s a hundred elementals dead and enough traitors amongst their people they¡¯re facing a civil war.¡± ¡°Okay so that¡¯s pretty grim, but-¡± ¡°He¡¯s not finished yet.¡± Elder interrupted, ¡°It gets worse. And some of it is your fault.¡± ¡°My fault?!¡± Natalya growled, ¡°In what possible way?¡± ¡°Your expedition to the Underreath, while it destroyed a terrible threat to Reath itself in the long term, has left huge areas where a demonic incursion could build its numbers. We¡¯ll come back to that later, you should hear all of it before I start handing out orders.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± ¡°Von Mori lies dead, and the forest itself is at war with the Paladin Protectorate, both have taken terrible casualties and show no signs of stopping. That¡¯s not to mention several towns our side of the border have been nearly overrun by angry forestguard, which were being stymied until Vulcanus withdrew the pyromancers stationed there. At least one god lies dead to the west, and to top it all off several of the Umbral Temple¡¯s nightblades have disappeared without trace.¡± Natalya winced, ¡°Okay so we¡¯re pretty much ripe for picking. What do you want me to do?¡± ¡°Three things.¡± The ancient head of her order told her, ¡°One, I want you to lead our expedition into the Underreath. Make the area defensible again. Two, once you¡¯ve done that, go to Circulus Seruatis, assess the damage there and report it back to me.¡± ¡°That all dovetails nicely with my own plans so, happy to oblige. And thirdly?¡± ¡°Thirdly, should you be selected as Head Gardener, in the event of my death, I want you to promise to look after Elder.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t be serious!¡± Elder snapped, ¡°I¡¯m seven hundred years old! I do not need a babysitter!¡± ¡°I am serious. You¡¯ve never left this garden. You have no idea the sorts of monsters that lurk just outside that door. If I could sleep then thoughts of Merida discovering you exist would keep me awake at night.¡± Ackeron snapped back. ¡°For so many people you would be nothing but a weapon and I refuse to let that happen.¡± Natalya resisted the urge to back away slowly, ¡°What makes you so sure of my pure intentions?¡± ¡°Absolutely nothing, pure of heart you are not, but you are prideful, if you give me your word then you¡¯ll keep it.¡± Ackeron explained. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that sir, I¡¯ve honestly never felt less proud of myself in my life.¡± Nat admitted, hoping to wiggle her way out of her potential promotion. ¡°You¡¯ll recover.¡± The lich reassured her, placing his hand on her shoulder, ¡°I can¡¯t order you to do this, as much as I dearly want to, but please Natalya, you have a daughter. I need to know she¡¯ll be okay.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t promise to become Head Gardener.¡± Natalya told him stiffly,¡±¡­ but I will make sure whoever does keeps her safe.¡± Ackeron slowly nodded, ¡°Then I wish you good luck on your travels. You have until the morning to make your goodbyes.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 8 - Teachers of Necromancy Archmage Merida was in a truly foul mood. Many would be unsurprised by this, Merida¡¯s moods tended to vacillate between cranky and downright homicidal, at least on the surface. But this was different, failure did not fall upon the Archmage of the Myriad Arts often. It wasn¡¯t the failure of the trial weighing upon her. That had, she had to reluctantly admit, been simply beyond her control. Noone could have seen the Slayers threatened defection coming, and she was certain they¡¯d be feeling the fallout of that for decades if not centuries to come. Certainly she¡¯d spent the last few hours reading and re-reading the first hand accounts from Natalya, Alec, Holly and Amara in the hopes of finding some crumb of what had set off the Slayers and finding nothing that screamed ¡®undercover deity¡¯ to her. She¡¯d have looked further, and certainly intended to later, but alas her position as the Necropolis¡¯ sole archmage did come with some duties. Power without purpose, afterall, was just tyranny, and her fellow necromancers did not love her so much as to allow a tyrant in their midst. First and foremost amongst her duties was the education of new necromancers, it fell to her to set the curriculum, to hire and appoint her fellow teachers, as well as quietly make sure none of them were quietly sacrificing their pupils for various gains, and hand out punishments when such lines were crossed. It was in fact an emeritus position, where most archmages went tall, relying gon a single esoteric art, she had gone wide and that made her uniquely qualified to select what magical arts the Necropolis should lean into (outside of the truly obvious). It was her who had insisted on a mandatory alchemy class for example, a choice that had paid dividends. A skeleton of now would, without any enchantment beyond a few dips in a potion vat, last centuries longer than before she¡¯d taken the post. Necromancy, alchemy, enchantment and healing were now viewed as equal parts of the process of becoming a necromancer. It was, in Merida¡¯s opinion, her greatest contribution to necromancer kind. Not the wars won, not the foes slain, but the cold, inevitable march of knowledge under her austere guidance. Of course being in charge of the Necropolis¡¯ faculty did mean actually meeting them sometimes, and today was one of those days. Normally these meetings would be little more than a formality, and perhaps an excuse to break out the good biscuits, but today was another matter. Holly and Alec¡¯s arrival imperilled a number of projects, the risk for forbidden knowledge infecting the entire advanced stream was the sort of thing that gave even Merida goosebumps. Amongst the normal students it was a fairly simple thing to contain. People accepted there would be a number of deaths each year, the Necropolis was, amongst many other things, a school for dark magic and that came with risks. Merida was in fact quite proud that, even including the few times they¡¯d lost an entire year of apprentices, they had a far lower attrition rate than the Path of Summoning for example. The advanced students were a different matter entirely, with every single one of them marked for greatness in one form or another, be it through their own talents, some unique (or at least rare) spell or skill they¡¯d stumbled upon, or (for the majority) being descended from another powerful mage. Magical ability did not, despite an enduring and pervasive belief, normally get carried by bloodlines. There were exceptions, inherited curses for example were practically a guarantee that the victim would be a magical talent. That was a snippet of information that Merida herself had gone to great lengths to expunge. Partly because it helped limit the potential challengers she had to face, but mostly because the number of students dangerously crippled by a cornucopia of minor curses had been getting more than even she could stomach. The true way to develop magical ability in a child, the archmage had figured out from her ages of observation, was simply to ensure they were exposed to magic regularly. To get their soul used to having mana wash over it, taking a little for themselves in the process whether they meant to or not. It wasn¡¯t much, just enough to overfill their magicka pool, slightly tearing it in the process, for lack of a better term, and it certainly wasn¡¯t a description that put people at ease, even the most veteran mage couldn¡¯t quite suppress their unease at (very mildly) damaging their soul as a mechanism for power. At least that¡¯s what Merida thought happened, damage leading to fresh growth, until eventually there stood a mage. Noone had ever definitively proven the soul was where the magicka pool resided, but the list of other candidates was all but non-existent by this point. Of course the magical potential of legacy students was not what made them a problem. What made them a problem were their mage parents who would make their displeasure known if anything happened to them. And there was nothing like an advanced student of necromancy for finding and getting into trouble. Over the thousands of years Merida had been in charge they¡¯d instigated ghoul uprisings, opened rifts to the Hells, broken into the Wraith Vaults, and on one spectacularly ill-advised occasion held a sleepover in the Whispering Archive in the misplaced belief it was some sort of rite of passage. Which admittedly it had been, but not one meant for apprentice necromancers but for senior warmages seeking clearance to handle weapons-grade memetics ¨C the self-replicating and occasionally living ideas that were practically the only defence against a powerful telepath. And no matter how the idiots got themselves killed somehow it was always Merida that the parents blamed, somehow having a reputation for ruthlessly killing potential challengers meant every mage presumed she¡¯d put them up to it. It couldn¡¯t possibly be that their little darling had done something stupid of their own volition. As if teenagers needed a reason to break rules, as if they even needed an excuse! She¡¯d lost track of the number of irate parents she¡¯d been forced to kill on the duelling field, and she¡¯d found enough venomous snakes in her bed that she had an entire snakeskin wardrobe. Part of her wondered how Erebus would come for her if his proteges were slain. Her lips curling into a smile as she pictured it. It would likely be during the day, when she was outside of her warded bedroom or similar place of power. Or perhaps it would, complacency was a far more dangerous weapon than anything she could lay hands upon in her rooms. She knew from Natalya¡¯s report that he could multicast, seven spells at once wasn¡¯t a record but it was one more than she could juggle herself. He¡¯d likely strike from the shadows, literally, stepping out of the darkness with a spell on his lips and lightning on his fingertips. Her wards could handle elemental power easily enough, unless he was burning vitae in the attack, but after his battle with the imperator she doubted he had much life left to burn. There would be something physical, just to cover his bases, a thrown alchemical or a magically slung stone. All easy threats to handle. The problem would be his entropy magic and whatever death spell he¡¯d selected for her. There was nothing for breaking down defensive spells as good as entropomancy, better to simply dodge it than to try and block it, but she doubted she¡¯d get that opportunity. There¡¯d be a split second where she had to re-establish her magical shields, that would be when the death spell struck. And there were so many different death spells. Again, from Natalya¡¯s report, she knew he favoured mana-heavy ones like Rend which tore a foe in half. It was a good tactic, the spell was a hefty one but there wasn¡¯t any true counterspell, the victim would just have to try and magically outmuscle their attacker and Erebus was a heavyweight by anyone¡¯s measure. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. But then again so was she, if she could just stop Rend then she¡¯d be in the clear. Erebus was incredibly powerful, his knowledge of magical theory extensive, his experience in battle comprehensive. But he was a child. Merida had been killing powerful mages for thousands of years, if she could just survive his surprise attack then she was certain she could beat him. Mind settled she turned her attention back to her fellow teachers sat around the table. She was naturally sat at the head of it, there was no pretence of equality here, no round table. To her right sat Vortigern, the old ghoul was, if not a trusted ally, then at least a dear friend. As the third oldest member of the faculty he rather had to be, anything less they¡¯d doubtless have tried to kill each other by now. The swordsmanship teacher (and other weapons) was easy to like, at least when he wasn¡¯t teaching, and Merida knew that often when the staff had an issue with her they¡¯d discuss it with him first. Given most of the time that stopped her needing to deal with it, it was a role she was happy for him to assume. The seat to her left was empty. Its usual occupant, the second eldest of the faculty, their illustrious history teacher, was taking a brief sabbatical. Loathe as Merida had been to lose them it had been hard to deny them a holiday given it was the first they¡¯d taken in¡­ ever. Further down the table Berilith was talking to Mortimer as her, with shaking hands, dry-swallowed a couple of pills, normally she¡¯d have objected to the banshee openly enchanting a fellow member of staff, but given the spell was an enchantment of calming she was inclined to let it go. Especially given she knew for a fact that the balding, grey haired man she was calming was on three different anxiety meds, and still visibly twitching at every sound. For an alchemy teacher he was holding out quite well, for starters he still had his eyebrows and was coming perilously close to breaking the record for staying in the role, just two months away from his tenth anniversary. When that time came Merida was already resolved to push him to retire. It was going to hurt, Mortimer also taught enchanting and basic reanimation, finding replacements for all three jobs would be hard but it was clear the poor man¡¯s nerves were shot. Understandably so, because the leading cause of death for Necropolis students was not undead gribblies, other-dimensional horrors or knowledge to sear the mind clean. It was the sound of breaking glass, followed by a quiet ¡°oops.¡± It was purely in deference to Mortimer that Merida no longer yelled in meetings and she was quietly looking forwards to being able to shake him by the hand and thank him for his long years of service. The rest of the faculty were very much not planning a surprise party for him, because the last thing anyone wanted was to watch him keel over with a heart attack. But she knew that Berilith had called in favours to get the man a quiet out of the way village to act as healer for, and between herself and Healer Necrosia they¡¯d even managed to arrange enough rejuvenation treatments at the Sanitatem Institute for him to receive those ten years back in full. Merida doubted she¡¯d be able to swing him the Order of Adamantine Will, given it was technically for bravery in combat, but she was determined to at least try. The last two members of staff, Olivia and Inferno Jones, were quietly talking at the end of the table, presumably gossiping about why a meeting had been called. Neither qualified for the secret trial earlier. It was at this point Merida realized she was procrastinating. Time to work. ¡°Thank you all for coming.¡± The elven archmage began. ¡°I must inform you that we will be accepting two new students, Alec of Respite and Holly, Daughter of Von Mori, into the advanced stream.¡± There were, predictably, groans from down the table. Mortimer, Olivia and Jones all speaking over each other in their complaints. She wasn¡¯t surprised Mortimer hadn¡¯t known, he was perhaps young to qualify as a senior necromancer (just in his mid-thirties despite a hairline twenty years his senior) but he did qualify. However the yelling often proved bad for his nerves and he¡¯d stopped attending altogether after a dropped light-orb had caused him to actually draw his wand on the mage who¡¯d done it. He¡¯d drawn it to catch the orb, but that hadn¡¯t stopped the other necromancer from sending a thorn-binding in his direction. ¡°I know, I know.¡± Merida assured them, ¡°But this order comes down from on high I¡¯m afraid.¡± ¡°Oh come on Merida, we can¡¯t have a pair of absolute know-nothings contaminating the class mid year, it¡¯s too dangerous.¡± Inferno Jones insisted, ¡°Either we don¡¯t pay them enough attention and they get killed, or we focus on them too much and one of the others gets killed.¡± ¡°I know.¡± The archmage repeated, ¡°I don¡¯t like this any more than you do. And if that was all the problem I¡¯d just order one of the Shields to bodyguard them, but I can¡¯t because they¡¯re a walking talking infohazard.¡± Olivia swore while Mortimer reached for his meds, apparently intent on double-dosing. Fortunately Berilith stopped him, the banshee gently holding his hand closed until he¡¯d calmed down. ¡°How bad an infohazard?¡± Jones asked, the old pyromancer looked nervous now. He might have been teaching here for decades but he was still technically an outsider. The last thing he wanted was necromantic secrets falling in his lap. ¡°How on Reath are we meant to protect the students from their own classmates talking?¡± Olivia added unhappily. ¡°It¡¯s not just the students you have to worry about. The stuff in these kids heads is enough to sign our death warrants thrice over.¡± Vortigern told them with a weary sigh. ¡°I presume you have countermeasures ready Merida?¡± ¡°I want all of you to brush up on your silence spells, and I¡¯ve got doubly bad news for Mortimer I¡¯m afraid. You¡¯re going to be spending the next couple days in your lab preparing memory blank spheres, just five minutes should be enough. I want three for each of us. You use one, you tell Mort, he¡¯ll make you another one.¡± That seemed to relax Mortimer a little bit, the balding man giving a tight nod in response, ¡°Of course Archmage.¡± ¡°Good. Hopefully that will be enough, but if the knowledge does break containment I want you all to tell me immediately. I¡¯ll be reaching out to the Council, see if I can get us access to a skilled memory editor just in case. Beyond that we¡¯ll need to be on the lookout for other mages trying to pry it from their heads, there¡¯s always one pillock who thinks they can handle secrets they aren¡¯t cleared for.¡± ¡°Martyr preserve us.¡± Olivia muttered, ¡°Is it even safe to let these two roam around the Necropolis? Who the hells even are they?!¡± ¡°The chosen apprentice of Erebus the Grey Walker, our new Archmage of Entropy.¡± Merida all but spat, feeling some small vindication as she watched the colour drain out of her living colleagues cheeks. ¡°Though you needn¡¯t worry about their general safety, I think, the Slayers and Shields will almost certainly step in to fill in that gap, just make sure things are covered your ends.¡± ¡°The Slayers?!¡± Mortimer blurted, managing to pale even further somehow. ¡°Relax Mort.¡± Vortigern assured him, ¡°This is a good thing, a bunch of crazed battle junkies will do a much better job seeing off trouble than we ever could. What we should be focusing on is how this might affect the other students.¡± ¡°Mhm¡­¡± Berilith hummed in quiet consideration, ¡°this could imperil Project Spidermage.¡± ¡°I swear if I could kill the idiot who named it a second time I would.¡± The elf grumbled. ¡°But yes, that is an issue. Eyes That See Truly will be all but impossible to mindwipe with standard methods, and is too important to take more conventional countermeasures.¡± ¡°Perhaps a chemical or alchemical amnesic?¡± Olivia suggested, directing the question more to Mortimer than to her boss. Mort shook his head sharply, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t risk it. We barely understand our own biology, let alone an oversized arachnid¡¯s.¡± ¡°Then what?¡± The young Gardener pressed. ¡°Then we let the dice fall where they will.¡± Merida concluded, ¡°And we keep Hope For A New Dawn safe. I¡¯m authorizing lethal force, any fallout you direct to me, I will resolve it personally.¡± ¡°Are there any other foreseeable issues with the other students?¡± Berilith asked softly. ¡°Alicia.¡± Merida answered after a few moments thought, ¡°Alec and Holly¡¯s proximity to her mother will cause friction but I doubt it will erupt into violence.¡± ¡°Do you want it to?¡± Vortigern asked her, an undead eyebrow arched in inquisition. ¡°No. If they are to come to harm I would want to be on hand to ensure their souls don¡¯t destabilise in the process.¡± Mortimer raised a tentative hand, ¡°Is that likely to happen?¡± The Archmage of the Myriad Arts didn¡¯t facepalm, because it would have been unbecoming of her position, but it was a close run thing as she realized she hadn¡¯t told the three living mages of the most important things about their new students. ¡°Yes. Alec and Holly aren¡¯t human, or more accurately Holly isn¡¯t and her inhumanity reflects onto Alec. Holly is a dryad of the Forest Von Mori, soul bonded to Alec. Given their ages and inexperience, the bond should be presumed volatile.¡± She told them, and very nearly killed Olivia for the pitying look the Gardener gave her. ¡°If you want one of us to teach your classes with them, we¡¯ll understand.¡± Vortigern told her, her old friend narrowly avoiding getting skewered by more than just a glare for the effort. ¡°I will handle it.¡± Merida told them coldly, ¡°Now, unless anyone can think of further concerns to raise, this meeting is adjourned.¡± The ancient elf ignored the sympathetic glances she got as her staff filed out of the room, Vortigern pausing at the threshold as if to say more before shaking his head and closing the door behind him. Only then did Merida let her shoulders slump, sighing so deeply it looked like she¡¯d started to deflate. The soft-hearted fools at the trial had no idea the horror they¡¯d inflicted on her two new students by letting them live. The agony that would follow because they¡¯d refused to do what was necessary. Still she was older now, wiser, or at least more knowledgable. Merida would not allow events to repeat themselves. Never again. Two Month Hiatus I did not want to do this, especially after my big ''Plans for the Year'' speech, but alas here we are. I have to take a break, not necessarily from writing but from RR certainly. There''s two big reasons for this. The big one is consistency. Right now I just don''t have any, this week for example I lost all three of my writing days to help tidy the house (it''s a state) and this will likely be ongoing for some time, though hopefully not all my writing time each week. I live with elderly parents who are, to be blunt, hoarders, and despite my best efforts the house has spiralled out of all livability over the Christmas period. It''s driving me crazy, it''s driving them crazy, and as the only able bodied person it falls on me to do it. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Two is that if I want to keep writing I need to be able to monetize it, and if I want to monetize it I''ve got to have bonus chapters on Patreon. If I had a smooth schedule I could probably grind out three chapters every two weeks and build the chapter bank that way, but as explained above I can''t. So during the two months I try and drag my living situation together I will use what writing time I get to build up that chapter bank. Thank you everyone who''s stuck with Oathbound this far, I will be back. See you all in two months. Oathmaker - Chapter 9 - Advanced Students There was a time in his life Alec had been a heavy sleeper, his parents oft having to rouse him from slumber by shaking his shoulder or loudly calling his name. Sadly that time of his life had come and gone, and not just because his parents were dead. The moment he woke up he just had enough time to register the unfamiliarity of a soft mattress before he¡¯d rolled off of it, grabbing his sword from under the bed by pure instinct to rise into a crouch, the blade drawn in the direction of the noise that had woken him. Holly, woken by the stab of second-hand adrenaline through their bond had tried to do the same in the other direction, only to rebound off the wall the bed was pressed against. It took them both a couple of seconds to relax as they realised what had woken them had been a simple knock at the door. The pair shared an embarrassed glance before Alec sheathed his blade and Holly crawled over to his side of the bed so she could get to her feet, neither of them saying a word as they hurriedly tried to make themselves vaguely presentable. Alec brushing the worst creases from the clothes he was still wearing and awkwardly shrugging on his bandoleer, while Holly painfully worked out the worst tangles in her hair with her fingers, yanking one of them hard enough that Alec winced from the echoed pain. By unspoken agreement Holly went to answer the door, Alec lurking just out of sight to the side of it. ¡°Good morning!¡± An infuriatingly chirpy voice announced, Holly almost being blinded by the brilliant smile facing her. ¡°Good morning?¡± The dryad replied hesitantly as she gave the young man, older than Alec by her judgement but not by much, a look up and down, silently checking him for weapons, ¡®Ritual dagger on the belt. Athletic physique, no body armour unless the robe is enchanted. Some sort of runic scarification on the hands. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s a threat.¡¯ She didn¡¯t see Alec¡¯s nod of acknowledgement but she felt it, though the teen didn¡¯t take his hand from the hilt of his spatha. ¡°You weren¡¯t told to expect me?¡± The newcomer asked, surprised and not afraid to admit it. ¡°No. Should I have been?¡± Holly replied a bit more confident now she was reasonably sure the young man wasn¡¯t a threat. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He admitted with a bemused shrug before he began ferreting inside one of his pockets, ¡°I wasn¡¯t really expecting to be here either but when I woke up this morning there was this letter on my desk. Which is all sorts of creepy given it wasn¡¯t there when I went to sleep.¡± That said he brandished the letter as if it were some sort of shield which Holly slowly and carefully accepted, reading with the paper held as far from her as possible, as if worried it might explode. Anesh Two new students have been enrolled in the advanced stream. You are to greet them and guide them throughout their first day here. They are in room eleven Merida For a moment Holly debated with herself whether the letter was a forgery. While it certainly matched her first impressions of the elven archmage, direct and to the point with less than no room for other points of view, that proved little. ¡®We¡¯ve got to trust someone or we¡¯re going to just end up starving in our room.¡¯ Alec¡¯s thoughts gently interjected, as if he weren¡¯t poised to stab his fellow mage. ¡°Well Anesh, I guess we¡¯re in your hands.¡± Holly declared with false cheer, stepping out into the corridor. ¡°How do you know my-?¡± The apprentice necromancer began before realization struck, ¡°oh.¡± Anesh suddenly very interested in his boots. ¡°I swear I¡¯m usually smarter than this, just mornings you know?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± Holly admitted. Trees were very much morning people as a rule, and Holly had watched many a dawn up on the branches of some of Von Mori¡¯s larger non-dryad trees. Alec had thus far proved similarly early to rise ¨C if not always happy about it. ¡°So what should we bring with us?¡± ¡°Whatever you consider necessary to do magic.¡± Anesh supplied readily, ¡°Though don¡¯t expect to be using it. The teachers are pretty strict about the advanced students just casting with their hands, external crutches are a good way to piss them off. I heard one poor girl had her wand snapped in front of her. The only reason I get to use these¡± He gestured to the runes scarred into his hands, ¡°is they¡¯d have to flay me to stop it. Though I know there¡¯ve been talks¡­¡± Holly winced at that mental image before responding, ¡°Well that could be a little awkward, how secure are the rooms?¡± ¡°Not very.¡± Anesh confessed, while blatantly trying to sneak glances past Holly at the room¡¯s contents now. ¡°but you¡¯re more likely to see food go wandering off than anything valuable. Though someone did steal Hope¡¯s bedding once, which, I don¡¯t care how valuable it was, is creepy as a ghoul¡¯s sleepover. And of course there¡¯s Brin, but he¡¯ll give it back soon as you ask.¡± The young dryad ignored the blatant attempts to scope her bedroom for valuables. She liked to think she had a good understanding of the necromantic psyche by now, maudlin, paranoid and almost pathologically addicted to gossip¡­ ahem¡­ secrets. What little valuables they had were safe with Anesh, knowledge of them on the other hand would be being traded for an extra large helping of mashed potato come lunchtime. ¡°We¡¯ll let the teachers decide.¡± Alec declared, finally stepping into view and startling Anesh badly enough that the runes on his hands glowed blue where he very nearly cast something on reflex. Which very nearly had Alec draw and throw a vial in reply, both mages-in-training stopping as they realized the other wasn¡¯t a threat. ¡°Bloody hellfire.¡± Anesh wheezed as he fought to get his heartrate back under control. ¡°Don¡¯t scare a guy like that, I nearly became part of the reanimation supplies.¡± Alec let his hand fall away from the bandoleer of phials on his chest. ¡°Sorry. Just¡­ jumpy.¡± He said in way of explanation, ¡°We weren¡¯t sure you¡¯d be friendly.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± As huhs went this one was solid enough you could moor a boat to it. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of caution for someone who¡¯s not even had a lesson yet, guessing you¡¯ve been through it before you got here?¡± That received a short nod from Holly and an even more reluctant one from Alec. ¡°You could say that.¡± Holly agreed, heading back to grab Yew¡¯s stave, electing not to leave the weapon that had killed a demonic god unguarded in their room. The staff certainly got a wide-eyed look from Anesh. The staff was far too unassuming for the mana he could feel coming off of it in waves. ¡°Bloody hellfire.¡± He hissed, taking a step back as if the unadorned shaft of wood was an unexploded bomb. ¡°No wonder you were worried about security. How in the Martyr¡¯s forgotten name have you been allowed to have something like that?¡± ¡°Noone¡¯s allowed us to have it. It¡¯s ours.¡± Holly shot back hotly, only narrowly beating Alec to it. ¡°It was a¡­ gift.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a bloody relic¡­ what kind of wood even is that? It¡¯s like it was made for necromancy!¡± ¡°Elder dryad¡¯s heartwood, freely given.¡± Alec told him, trying to keep the statement as flat and inflectionless as a lecture on law. Anesh¡¯s eyes got even wider, ¡°Who on Reath are you two?!¡± He spluttered backing away in his awe and fear. That, Alec noted, would be a problem. Presuming Anesh was a typical example of the advanced students, an admittedly dubious supposition with a sample size of one, then it was going to be difficult to make friends, he and Holly faced either with sycophancy or base dread. An even bigger problem was how on Reath to answer Anesh¡¯s rather reasonable if shocked question. There was an uncomfortably long pause, at least from Anesh¡¯s perspective, as he silently consulted with Holly, the argument taking place at the speed of thought until they¡¯d narrowed their options down to one; the truth, or at least some of the truth. ¡°A senior necromancer had taken us as apprentices.¡± Holly explained softly, and the sadness in her voice was only slightly exaggerated as she added, ¡°He¡­ passed quite recently and it was his will that the staff go to us.¡± It was a bit of a gamble but the conclusion he and Holly had reached was that declaring themselves Erebus¡¯ apprentices openly would have been as good as painting targets on their backs and a lot more permanent besides. The necromancer had loved the Necropolis dearly, but it had been very clear, what with the assassination attempts, total lack of support and repeated throwing to the wolves that that love was not reciprocated. But necromancy was a dangerous business and their hope was that there¡¯d have been enough senior deaths lately that it would muddle things. Thirteen of their most combat capable liches to start with. ¡°Sweet Martyr I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Anesh gasped, going from stunned to penitent in moments, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose either of you two have a crowbar?¡± That brought them both out of their silent scheming rather abruptly, ¡°What?¡± Alec blurted gormlessly. ¡°You know¡­ so I can pry my foot out of my mouth.¡± Their guide explained with a forced grin. ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ve dawdled here long enough. Uh I don¡¯t know what your species eats but breakfast is served in the common room¡­ though if the dietary requirements are difficult to reach then you may have to arrange your own supply.¡± ¡°Just sunlight and water for me.¡± Holly assured him. That was another lie they¡¯d agreed on. If people knew that Holly was entirely dependant on Alec for the mana she needed to live then it was going to be hard not to be seen as just a parasite or extension of his will, something neither wanted. ¡°Huh¡­¡± Anesh said, eyes glancing between Holly and Yew¡¯s stave, ¡°So uh¡­ was that yours?¡± The young dryad snorted, ¡°I¡¯ll try to take that as a compliment. No I am not an elder dryad.¡± The teenager flushed, ¡°Sorry. Sorry. Had to ask. I swear I¡¯m not normally this dumb, I¡¯ve just never met a dryad before. Or expected to really, I thought you were all forced to live by the tree that created you?¡± ¡°We are, normally.¡± Holly told him, not explaining any further as she headed towards the door at the end of the corridor that Anesh had indicated. Now that she was closer she could see it was rather helpfully labelled ¡®Common Room ¨C Advanced Students ¨C First Year¡¯. ¡°So do you eat food?¡± Anesh asked, perhaps a touch hopefully. His stomach hadn¡¯t audibly betrayed his hunger yet, but it was really just a matter of time. ¡°I eat food.¡± Alec said, deciding to throw his fellow necromancer a bone as he followed after Holly, the dryad waiting for him so they could enter with a united front. ¡°Great!¡± Anesh declared a little too eagerly as he through open the stout oak door, to reveal the common room, and its occupants. The common room was¡­ cozy, and not much more than that. Whatever expectations Alec and Holly had had vis-a-vie casual magic, they weren¡¯t met. Really just a smattering of cozy armchairs and their attendant tables, a couple hammocks, an entire wall of bookshelves, with the odd board game jockeying for position and a buffet table piled up with food against one wall. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Their fellow students were a lot less of a letdown. There weren¡¯t many of them, just five, not including Anesh, but what they lacked in quantity they made up for in peculiarity. The most obvious was a truly titanic, almost swollen figure. Alec couldn¡¯t be entirely sure how tall they were because they were sat in an equally massive armchair, but they were taller than Agh¡¯zak and that was just sat down, the large creature eating in near total silence from the haunch of some animal, taking the meat straight off the bone in huge mouthfuls before cracking the bone for the marrow with a retort like an alchemy accident. The creature was the first to notice them, eyes that looked beady on a face that large widening in surprise before the monster bellowed, or, as Alec would soon find out, quietly spoke, ¡°New people! Come in new people! Brin is always happy to make new friends!¡± Which rather killed any chance of a quiet introduction. Two of the other students looked up from their game of chess, a girl with hair so deep brown it was almost black and a far too handsome young man, who offered them a scowl and a smile respectively, the latter of which instantly put Alec on guard for reasons he couldn¡¯t quite place. A sensation he felt echoed by Holly. ¡®He¡¯s like Meliador.¡¯ Holly sent across the bond. The thought was furtive, fearing that even that most private and intimate of communications could be overheard. Alec¡¯s blood ran cold as his conscious mind caught up with his hindbrain. He could see it now, the too good to be real beauty. The smile full of too perfect teeth. The hair that gleamed in the light. The face that was perfectly symmetrical. The eyes that shone as if reflecting starlight. Meliador was a Sidhe Lord, one of the four rulers of Avalon and Lord of Autumn, and for all he was the least of those four, the teenager could remember what being in his very presence had felt like. As if there was a great weight upon the fabric of reality and they had little choice but to fall towards it. To move without his permission had been impossible. To disagree with him, unthinkable. Alec tried not to react as the young man rose to greet them, but something must have shown on his face for the young man¡¯s smile vanished. ¡°Kristos Solsticeblood.¡± He told Alec, offering his hand anyway, and not looking too upset when Alec didn¡¯t shake it, ¡°and I see you¡¯ve met some of the family¡­ which Court?¡± ¡°Autumn.¡± Alec told him stiffly. ¡°Ouch, worst of both worlds there. All the cruelty of Winter and the impulsiveness of Summer.¡± Kristos shook his head, ¡°My condolences. Who¡¯d you lose?¡± ¡°Uh noone¡­¡± Alec replied hurriedly, still watching Kristos cautiously. ¡°Lucky. Still I can see you encountered someone harrowing¡­ they contracted you?¡± ¡°Nearly.¡± The teen admitted, ¡°A sidhe lord bumped into me and I apologised.¡± Kristos winced. ¡°Well you¡¯re still here, that¡¯s a miracle. They give you a quest or something? Or just decided they couldn¡¯t bother to train their new servant in magic? No offence but if you¡¯re faebound you and I can¡¯t talk much. Too risky for me.¡± ¡°No. Nothing like that. The people I was with appealed to a higher power and got the debt annulled.¡± Alec told him. Technically true, as long as he regarded Erebus as a higher power, but technically true was pretty much the requirement when dealing with fae. ¡°Titania¡¯s ample bosom you got lucky.¡± Kristos choked out a somewhat relieved laugh, ¡°Don¡¯t worry kid, I¡¯m not fae, just faeblooded.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a kid.¡± Alec protested, ¡°I¡¯m almost as old as you are.¡± ¡°I doubt that heavily.¡± Kristos told him, giving him a cheeky smile, ¡°Then again I¡¯ve been surprised before. I¡¯m eighty two. Got a number to match that?¡± ¡°...no.¡± The teenager admitted. ¡°Though if you¡¯re that old¡­ what on Reath are you doing with the rest of us?¡± Kristos¡¯ expression darkened, ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± He stated, not just closing the door on that topic but locking and deadbolting it just to be sure before his smile lit back up, ¡°Now who¡¯s the lovely young lady who¡¯s been standing carefully clear of your swordarm while subtly aiming a warstaff at me?¡± ¡°Someone less trusting than Alec.¡± Holly told him coldly, ¡°Reach for me and I¡¯m assuming an attempt to charm me and will throw you into the far wall.¡± The faeblood¡¯s smile widened further at that, ¡°I do hope you didn¡¯t intend that threat to make you less attractive. Because wow. Where have you been all my life dangerous stranger?¡± Holly¡¯s expression stilled, becoming as unmoving and hard as the bark of her former home, ¡°Go away.¡± ¡°I¡¯d be careful Kristos.¡± The young lady who¡¯d been glaring told him sharply, her glare still focused on the pair of newcomers, ¡°She means it. That¡¯s a Von Mori dryad, they¡¯re vindictive to a fault.¡± The dryad in question narrowed her gaze, and Alec didn¡¯t need open access to her soul to know she was a hair away from following through on her threat just to prove a point. ¡°Either you have a good eye or someone warned you about me in advance.¡± ¡°It was definitely one of those Holly.¡± She replied, matching the coldness in the dryad¡¯s voice. If there had been a sudden outbreak of frost between them Alec would not have been surprised. Alec¡¯s own swordarm slowly went loose, to let it fall casually closer to his blade. He wasn¡¯t sure why everyone was so close to violence but there had been real hate in the young woman¡¯s voice that he could not explain. Just when he felt Holly tensing to cast, and could see the woman¡¯s hand come up with blue light on the fingertips, a too loud voice made the four of them jump. ¡°Brin thinks everyone is very silly! All just met, is too early for hate and fighting! Don¡¯t make Brin knock heads together! Now everyone go have food, Brin wants seconds and can¡¯t have until others have eaten.¡± Alicia managed one last glare before shuffling off to the buffet table, plate in hand. Holly¡¯s attention was diverted by a long low whistle, Kristos shaking his head almost admiringly, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anyone get under Alicia¡¯s skin before, trust me I¡¯ve tried, and you did it just by standing there. What¡¯ll it take to hear your story Holly, daughter of Von Mori?¡± The dryad shrugged, unsure how to answer such a direct question, again electing for honesty, ¡°I haven¡¯t decided yet, it¡¯s not just my story to tell.¡± ¡°None of the good stories are, for all we like to pretend.¡± Kristos smiled, ¡°For every great hero there are a dozen friends who fell along the way. People who gave little, because it¡¯s all they had to give, and who if lucky will got one line in the tales told afterward. It doesn¡¯t stop your part in it being yours.¡± Holly again paused, taking her time as she thought upon her answer. She could just about feel Alec¡¯s racing thoughts, the teen trying hard to dampen the bond to keep her mind clear of his pondering how Erebus would handle this situation. Because he could feel it too, the instinct to trust Kristos, to want to tell him things, and he knew enough to know that the instinct wasn¡¯t his own. But Erebus wasn¡¯t the only mentor Holly had had who knew how to deal with the fae. Forget the necromancer, what would Von Mori do in this situation? ¡°I won¡¯t be sharing today. But if you really want to know, bleed for me.¡± The words hung heavy in the air for just a moment before Kristos¡¯ grin grew even wider, ¡°Old school rules. I like it. Of course, I expect some reciprocation.¡± ¡°Alec. Sword.¡± Holly replied, meeting and holding Kristos¡¯ almost luminous eyes with hers as she held her hand out expectantly. ¡®Holly, what are you doing?¡¯ Alec¡¯s words echoing in her head even as he handed her the blade without complaint. ¡®Blood has magic in it.¡¯ She didn¡¯t quite explain, there wasn¡¯t time for a full explanation without the pause being awkward and besides, Alec was smart, he¡¯d figure it out¡­ probably. Kristos drew a scrimshaw knife from his belt, pressing the point to the ball of his thumb but not pressing it home as he watched Holly place Alec¡¯s spatha against her palm, by unspoken agreement drawing blood at the same time. Rich sap oozed from the cut on Holly¡¯s palm, Alec wincing slightly in the process as the dryad held up the wounded appendage for Kristos to see even as Kristos proffered the trickling wound from his own hand for inspection. The blood was a little too red to be human, or perhaps the term was a little too real, as if the rest of the world had been painted with watercolour and the blood alone had been painted with oil. But that was all it was and even as Holly¡¯s magical senses enveloped it it remained so. Slightly too magical blood, but not the kind of weight on the world that something belonging to a Sidhe would have. ¡°Finally convinced I am what I say I am?¡± Kristos asked her politely. ¡°No.¡± Holly told him with a smile, ¡°But if you aren¡¯t then you¡¯re enough of a threat that it¡¯s a Necropolis-grade problem and not a Holly and Alec problem.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± The faeblood agreed, before placing his bleeding thumb in his mouth to try and stop the bleeding. ¡°Well that was all very dramatic. Now for the love of Ariadne will you all please go eat before Brin passes out from hunger?¡± A quiet feminine voice declared from one of the hammocks. No, not a hammock, Alec would realise after a moment, a cocoon. The arachni was a small one, and shrank even further from the attention her outburst had garnered, little more than far too many eyes peeking out of a slit in her silken lair. ¡°Hope is right. Brin is very hungry and only has twenty minutes left before class. Please hurry.¡± The massive monster all but pleaded. Alec nodded to him, ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll go load up a plate, anyone else planning on getting anything?¡± There were, much to Brin¡¯s visible relief, a chorus of nos, the lumbering creature slowly getting up from its reinforced chair to tread after Alec towards the buffet. A year ago Alec would have been terrified walking next to something like Brin, but there were only so many times a person could be within arms length of an apex predator before they became numb to the fear. Up close the figure wasn¡¯t just big but grotesquely fat, though the way he moved belied an incredible strength as well. That was the disconcerting thing. Alec¡¯s study under Saiko had shown him how a trained warrior moved and his travels with Erebus had taught him how a predator walked as well, and Brin had aspects of both. ¡°There¡¯s no polite way to ask this, so I¡¯ll just come out and ask, what are you?¡± The teenager inquired as gently as he could. ¡°Brin is an ogre.¡± Brin told him with a broad grin, ¡°And what is Alec-and-Holly?¡± ¡°Well I¡¯m just human, and Holly¡¯s a dryad-¡± Alec began before Brin cut him off. ¡°Is no just human. Would be like saying Brin just ogre. Hope just arachni. Normal to one person is strange to another. Alec shouldn¡¯t talk Alec down with silly words like just.¡± The teenager took a moment to reply, visibly taken aback, ¡°So uh¡­ I don¡¯t know what an ogre is. Sorry.¡± ¡°Not knowing things is not crime.¡± Brin shrugged amiably. ¡°Brin would tell but no time. Can Brin ask question?¡± ¡°O-of course.¡± Alec replied as he slowly began filling his plate. Most of the food was unfamiliar to him, lots of meats he couldn¡¯t identify at a glance, most thinly sliced or skewered. ¡°Can Alec not take the last of the devilled eggs?¡± The ogre asked, indicating one of the platters that was indeed looking a little sparse. ¡°Sure.¡± He replied, loading his plate mostly up with the skewers, the meat reminding him of a slightly sweeter beef. ¡°Honestly it seems like a lot of food for just eight people.¡± ¡°Was more.¡± Brin told him before picking up the entire platter of eggs and simply tipping it into his mouth, chewing rapidly and determinedly before swallowing, ¡°Alamaya, Perric and Malasma. Incident in Wrath Vault. Also Brin eats a lot.¡± That certainly was true, the ogre grabbing another platter and scraping it into his open maw. The corpulent creature noticing Alec¡¯s somewhat shocked look. Even for someone of Brin¡¯s size it was a lot of food. ¡°Maybe time to explain little bit about ogres. Food become magic. So Brin must eat lots before lessons start.¡± ¡°So what are lessons like?¡± Alec asked while he watched Holly and the others talk. Or more accurately watched the others talk while shooting wary glances at Holly. Yeah¡­ they hadn¡¯t exactly made a good first impression, something he¡¯d regretted from the moment it had started, but he honestly couldn¡¯t see any other way the dice could have fallen. Brin paused between platters, chewing thoughtfully before responding, ¡°Ask Hope. Brin eating.¡± The rookie mage let his gaze fall on the cocoon strung up between two posts, the arachni¡¯s gaze wasn¡¯t explicitly on him, but she had enough eyes that there was no way she didn¡¯t notice his attention. He tried to make it look casual as he walked slowly over to the cocoon, feeling the weight of everyone watching him cross the room. ¡°Sorry to bother you miss, but I was hoping you could tell me what lessons are like here?¡± ¡°Brin too busy eating?¡± The arachni checked, her magically projected voice almost psychotically cheerful, ¡°And please call me Hope.¡± ¡°May I know what that¡¯s short for?¡± ¡°Hope For A New Dawn.¡± The spider looking down in embarrassment as she fastidiously cleaned her pedipalps. Which at least confirmed in Alec¡¯s mind that that little sign of anxiety wasn¡¯t unique to Weaver of New Tales, the other arachni he¡¯d met. ¡°Not a fan of the name?¡± Alec noted quietly. ¡°It is a great honour.¡± Hope said hurriedly, before adding, rather more quietly, ¡°And sometimes a heavy burden.¡± ¡°Big shoes to fill or something?¡± He guessed. ¡°Something like that. There aren¡¯t many arachni who even have enough mana to cast a spell, because of how much mana it takes just to keep us alive,so there¡¯s a lot of expectations riding on me.¡± She explained almost mechanically. ¡°Sooooo¡­ lessons?¡± ¡°Ah yes. The honest answer is I can¡¯t tell you, all the advanced students have a personalised lesson plan though we do share a lot of classes given some skills are universally necessary. I¡¯d imagine your first week is just going to be assessing what you and the dryad can do.¡± Hope explained, the arachni¡¯s wide front eyes resting squarely upon him. That was one big difference between her and Weaver, he noticed, the other arachni¡¯s eyes had been a lot more even in size. Sure the front two had been a little big, but Hope¡¯s were like staring into two inky pools easily deep enough to drown in. ¡°Thanks. And sorry if we were a little hostile when we came in. It¡¯s¡­ been a long journey here.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. Besides hostility seemed to be waiting for you in any case.¡± Hope replied cheerfully, and Alec was certain it wasn¡¯t an accident the way her gaze shifted so that the reflection in her wide black eyes showed Alicia glaring daggers at his back. ¡°If you want to check your lesson plan it¡¯s on the wall by the door.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± He told her, drifting slowly towards the door to give it a read. ¡®Hol, you might want to share my eyes for a few seconds.¡¯ He resisted the urge to blink (that was not his) as he focused on the lesson plan with his name on it. For today just ¡®Basic Mana Sensing And Manipulation¡¯ and ¡®Basic Combat Proficiency¡¯ were on the table, ditto for Holly¡¯s plan, which he noted differed from his on a couple key points later in the week. After a few moments the sensation of extra weight behind his eyes faded, Holly had taken what she¡¯d needed and gone back to her conversation. Fortunately, or more likely purposefully, the lessons were to take place right here in the common room. Keeping things easy and fairly gentle rather than forcing them to navigate the maze that the Necropolis seemed to have been designed to be. A quick glance at Anesh¡¯ timetable told him he¡¯d be attending the same lessons. Which had to suck for the more advanced mage, Alec making a mental note to both apologise and thank him when he got the chance. Though looking at the way Alicia was still glaring at him and Holly in turn, it might be a short while before he got the chance. Oathmaker - Chapter 10 - Mana Sense & Sensibility It was indeed a short while before the advanced students filed out of the common room, leaving just Anesh, Alec and Holly in the far too large and empty room. While Alec wasn¡¯t an expert, now his attention was no longer occupied by his fellow apprentices, he was sure that the room had been designed for a lot more people. The only reason it avoided feeling barren and empty was the amount of comfortable furniture that been stuffed into it. ¡°I wonder who it¡¯ll be teaching.¡± Anesh pondered as they waited, the three of them having dragged armchairs close enough to sit facing each other. Anesh¡¯s own a faded once-red thing that probably predated the Treaty of Nex Pax. ¡°Well who normally teaches Mana Sensing?¡± Holly asked, legs folded under her on the chair as she lounged against an arm. ¡°No idea.¡± He shrugged, ¡°Never took the class.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± The dryad pressed lightly. ¡°Yeah. They had to correct a couple of things, I¡¯m mostly self-taught, but my mana sensing was already up to par. Otherwise I¡¯d never have been able to do this.¡± He told them, raising his rune-scarred hands. ¡°That must have hurt.¡± Alec said lamely, not sure how to discuss someone turning their own hands into a canvas of wounds. ¡°Not so much as you think. My parents are apothecaries so I made sure to take some willow bark before I did any of the work, and I kept the tools clean.¡± Anesh explained, slowly turning his hands so they could get a full look. ¡°What do they do?¡± Alec inquired, eyes rebelling as they tried to separate the many interlaced symbols. Anesh gave them both a surprisingly rakish grin, ¡°Not telling. You¡¯re just going to have to find out the old fashioned way when we spar.¡± ¡°That seems awfully unfair.¡± ¡°And painful.¡± Holly added. ¡°That¡¯s the plan.¡± Anesh assured them, doing a bad job of hiding a laugh, ¡°Now let¡¯s start getting these chairs piled up by the far wall before the teacher arrives.¡± ¡°There will be no need.¡± Archmage Merida told them all. All three of the mages-in-training startled, and all three very nearly attacked. Anesh¡¯s hands raised and starting to glow blue as Alec reached for his vials and Holly aimed Yew¡¯s staff, though only Anesh dropped his hands once he¡¯d had a couple of moments to realize who it was he¡¯d nearly attacked. The dark-skinned man paling to something closer to grey as it sunk in just how close he¡¯d come to signing his own suicide note. The ancient elf rolled her eyes as Holly and Alec didn¡¯t drop their guards in the slightest. ¡°Honestly children, if I was planning to kill you there is nothing you could do to stop me. Now just give me a moment¡­ Animas.¡± The spell for a few moments looked like it hadn¡¯t done anything, but then the furniture, including the chairs they¡¯d been sat in a moment ago, rose into the air to begin stacking itself into neat and orderly piles atop the now empty buffet table. ¡®...When did the plates get cleared away?¡¯ Holly inquired quietly, the observation making Alec do a double-take. ¡°Now¡± Merida began, ¡°We will begin with a basic assessment of your capabilities. Holly, will go first. Followed by Alec. Anesh, I expect you to work with whichever of them has the superior talent while I focus on the weakling.¡± As she spoke she pulled moisture from the air, letting the water coalesce into a ball before charging it with enough mana it glowed where the concentration had begun to weave simple spells by sheer chance currents forming inside it. ¡°We will begin with the remedial method. Place your hand inside the ball and tell me what element I have attuned it to.¡± The archmage commanded as Holly and Alec finally relaxed, or at least stopped aiming weapons at her. Somewhat hesitantly Holly reached forwards and pushed her fingers past the membrane of the water, eyes widening in surprise before pulling her hand back sharply, ¡°Earth mana.¡± Merida nodded, ¡°Correct. Now, again.¡± The dryad nodded, sticking her hand back in and withdrawing it just as swiftly, ¡°Undeath.¡± ¡°Again.¡± Merida barked. This time Holly took a lot longer, the dryad even considering asking Alec for help before she finally pulled her hand free. ¡°There isn¡¯t one. It¡¯s just mana.¡± ¡°Good. Most people just guess. Now for a difficult one.¡± Holly tentatively reached into the water, mulling over the phantom sensations playing across her skin. The sensation of sunlight, a light breeze and, possibly the strangest sensation, the feeling that her hand was growing. ¡°Oh I know this one! It¡¯s spring!¡± Merida again nodded, ¡°I should have known better than to try that on a dryad. Still an impressive showing for someone with no formal training. Apprentice Alec, your turn.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Alec spluttered, more than a little startled. He¡¯d expected Holly¡¯s half of the lesson to take longer than a minute. ¡°For Holly yes. She¡¯s already shown herself to be far beyond the limits of basic mana sensing. I¡¯ll have to amend her schedule to get her moved to the advanced class. Now, your turn.¡± For a moment he considered protesting or procrastinating, but there really wasn¡¯t much point. The truth would out eventually. ¡°Okay but I¡¯m not very good at it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m here to assess.¡± Merida told him flatly, though it seemed to Alec that the ball of water flared even brighter as he reached for it. Closing his eyes Alec tried to focus on the sensation of water upon his skin, the slight coldness of it, and all the other sensations that his brief contact with the sphere was giving home, slowly identifying each one and carefully dismissing them from his mind as he sought what he knew would be there. A sensation without a cause. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. The last time he¡¯d done this exact exercise he¡¯d managed to feel it, but only barely. A tingling on his skin that should not have been there. The only other time he¡¯d sensed mana, or at least its nearest equivalent, had been from Tza¡¯rahlitzek. The demon queen had been a beacon of light, a weight on the world, so that Alec would have known exactly where she was with his eyes closed. Even he, with his poor mana senses, could not have missed her if he tried. Now that he knew what he should be looking for, Alec was optimistic even as Archmage Merida told him to identify the type of mana she was filling the sphere with. But as the seconds slowly turned to minutes Alec found that not only could he not tell what type of mana was being used but that he couldn¡¯t sense anything at all. For a moment he was tempted to blame Merida pulling a trick, using water mana or something similar so that he¡¯d be forced to differentiate between the wetness of actual water to the phantom wetness of the mana or some such ploy, but only for a moment. Despite her antipathy towards them, the ancient elf had played it straight with Holly, and besides, what was there even to gain by showing him up like that? With an audience of one and with any such deception doomed to be brief by its very nature, which left only one possible conclusion. ¡°I can¡¯t sense anything.¡± Alec said in leaden tones, withdrawing his hand to stare at it in consternation. ¡°Hmm.¡± Was all Merida said at first. She¡¯d read the reports from Guardian Ilvere about Alec¡¯s difficulties sensing mana, and had, she¡¯d believed, compensated accordingly. There was enough mana in that small sphere that it was in danger of going critical and casting a spell at random. Even most infants would have been able to sense it. Merida made a quick decision, ¡°Apprentices Anesh and Holly will wait in the corridor for their own safety.¡± That certainly raised some alarm. Holly opening her mouth to protest. Merida got in first. ¡°I¡¯m not going to harm him. Intentionally anyway. But I am going to do some risky spellcasting. If you are concerned for him then I assure you that being out of the room is the easiest way to keep Apprentice Alec safe. That way I can focus just on his safety rather than splitting my attention.¡± ¡®It¡¯s fine Hol.¡¯ Alec assured her, feeling her concern almost as keenly as his own through the bond, and doubtless vice versa. ¡®What if she tries something?¡¯ The dryad fretted, not looking his way as she, rather slowly, headed for the exit whilst Anesh hurried ahead. ¡®I doubt we¡¯d know even if she did.¡¯ Her partner admitted, not exactly a master of reassurance. ¡®It¡¯s like she said, if she wanted us dead we¡¯d be dead. It really is that simple.¡¯ ¡®I don¡¯t like it.¡¯ Holly growled in his head, ¡®What if she¡¯s just trying to make it look like an accident? Making sure there aren¡¯t any witnesses?¡¯ ¡®Next verse same as the first.¡¯ Alec sighed internally, ¡®It would be like trying to stop Erebus. And we need to respond accordingly. Just go with the flow and try not to drown in the process.¡¯ ¡®Very well. But I¡¯ll be piggybacking you the entire time. First hint she¡¯s actually doing something evil and I¡¯m hitting her with everything we¡¯ve got and I expect your support.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯ll have it.¡¯ Once Merida and Alec were alone, the archmage took a deep and calming breath, ¡°Let¡¯s see if I remember how to do this. Martyr¡¯s blood but I hope I¡¯m wrong. Let me know if you feel anything.¡± Whatever Merida did, the effect upon Alec was almost instant. The teenager felt like the entire side of his body facing her was stood way too close to a fire, lurching away from Merida instinctively. ¡°What was that?¡± He spluttered, glaring daggers at the archmage. Merida for her part looked equally annoyed. There was a flash of light that filled the room for just a moment, the sensation leaving with it. ¡°That.¡± She said with the forced calm of a munitions technician who just realised they can¡¯t remember which wire was which, ¡°was very bad news. On the bright side I don¡¯t have to replicate every esoteric energy I can remember. The bad news is you have a serious health condition. Correction, you have another serious health condition.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer my question.¡± Alec replied, not about to be badgered or scared into a half-answer. ¡°That was chaos. The mana of the Hells. And you are apparently not just able to sense it but are in fact highly sensitive to it.¡± Merida told him, voice softening just a little, ¡°It makes sense that the healers missed it when you were debriefed. I doubt it would occur to anyone outside the Path of Summoning to even check. In short, as things stand, you are incapable of sensing mana. I am sorry.¡± ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± Alec protested, ¡°I have sensed mana before. I know I can do it.¡± ¡°No. You could do it. Now you can¡¯t. At a guess your close proximity to such a high concentration of chaos as a demon queen, and in such an early stage of your training rewired your mana receptors to detect chaos instead.¡± The teenager took a few moments to let that sink in, ¡°What are my options?¡± ¡°As things stand, there are three equally awful possibilities ahead of you. Without outside assistance you will have to learn how to use your own magicka as medium through which to sense mana. It¡¯s a more advanced technique, and frankly will make you a poor mage where you can only actively seek out mana rather than just passively reading the room. Normally it¡¯s just reserved for high precision work with alchemicals and artifacts.¡± ¡°And with outside assistance?¡± Alec pressed, Holly echoing that same question in his head. ¡°Either we would have to arrange for you to be trained in the Hells, an expensive and hideously dangerous prospect, where you would learn to properly sense chaos then transition that same training back to mana, much as demons themselves do. Or you would have to spend likely several hours every day soaking in a bath of mana-saturated water then be detoxed for acute mana poisoning, until your body attuned back to its normal state. Which would be a hideously expensive and dangerous prospect.¡± ¡°Which would you recommend?¡± He asked, trying not to sound too dejected at the news. ¡°None. They¡¯re all absolutely terrible options with minimal chances of working and still having you alive at the end of it. And it would be a work worthy of The Ancient to persuade either the Necropolis to fund the mana treatment or find a demon trustworthy enough to train you and powerful enough to protect you.¡± ¡°...I might know a demon like that.¡± The words were slow, hesitant even as Alec thought for just a second he might have a solution. ¡°If you¡¯re referring to the devil of guardianship known as ¡®Lana¡¯ I fear you will be sorely disappointed.¡± Merida told him, smothering hope in its cradle almost as an afterthought, ¡°Since she was sent back to the Hells there have been no less than twenty attempts to summon her. Either she¡¯s found a way to change her true name ¨C not an entirely unknown occurrence ¨C or she¡¯s already back on Reath somewhere safe from scrying.¡± ¡°So what do you intend then?¡± ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll be able to get a Necropolis committee to sign up to that kind of commitment for a single student, even an archmage¡¯s apprentice. Instead I will do a round of the older alchemy labs and the deeper stacks of The Whispering Archive for any lich that¡¯s gotten too engrossed in their research by a few decades and see if they¡¯ve time and mana to spare for a worthy cause.¡± She told him before noting his somewhat perplexed expression, ¡°It happens more than you think. Remove the needs of a body and it¡¯s far too easy to get lost in one¡¯s work, and the work needed to even become a lich requires an obsessive personality by default. It¡¯s why I¡¯ve never taken the leap. I¡¯ve less than no desire to become one more faded relic pondering questions who¡¯s answers were found centuries ago if I¡¯d but the inclination to ask.¡± ¡°Maybe don¡¯t say that last bit when you ask them for help?¡± Alec suggested lightly. Merida¡¯s eyes narrowed dangerously. ¡°Whilst Archmage Erebus might have appreciated a bit of sass, I do not. I am already sticking my own neck out to aid you, the disrespect is unbecoming.¡± For a second it looked like the teenager would argue on pure reflex, but he just nodded, swallowing whatever Erebusesque barb had risen to mind. ¡°I¡¯m not ungrateful, Archmage Merida, just severely confused. You fought hard to have Holly and I killed, so why are you helping us now?¡± ¡°Fortunately I do not require your gratitude or your comprehension.¡± The elf told him coldly, ¡°Just accept that I have a vested interest in your life that I did not have when I sought your death.¡± ¡°That could prove difficult.¡± He admitted with a defeated shrug. ¡°Thankfully I don¡¯t require that either. Now, signal Holly to reenter. We will be moving on to the next lesson on the schedule. Hopefully you will prove more capable in a fight than you have in matters of magic.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 11 - A Duel Before Dinner ¡°When Master Vee runs this class you will be expected to engage in a light warmup to reduce the strain on your bodies.¡± Merida told them, deciding to begin with the absolute basics. ¡°However, as in the real world you will seldom be given such an opportunity, and today is about discerning your capabilities, we will forgo it.¡± The three students nodded their understanding, lined up opposite her as they awaited instruction. ¡°We will begin with sparring. Pain is a good teacher so we will be using live blades. Do not hold back. Any blow I deem likely to prove immediately fatal I will shield you from and end the fight. If I tell you to stop for any reason you will do so immediately and without fail unless you wish to be banned from further classes. Any wounds undertaken during the class will be healed at the end of it. Alec, you will be required to remove your bandoleer and body armour for this initial assessment. Are there any questions?¡± There weren¡¯t. ¡°Good. We will begin with Alec fighting Anesh. Then transition to Holly fighting Anesh. Then finally Alec and Holly fighting Anesh. Yes Anesh, what is it?¡± The trainee necromancer lowered his hand somewhat nervously, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t Alec and Holly at some point fight each other?¡± ¡°That may well be the worst idea I¡¯ve heard this century.¡± Merida stated flatly, ¡°Maybe a decade from now, if they do very well in their training, and if they choose to specialise in soul manipulatoin, they might, and emphasise might, be able to strike each other. But I sincerely doubt it.¡± She paused, noticing Anesh¡¯s uncomprehending look. ¡°They¡¯re soulbound. A blow to one is to strike the other. Forcing them to spar would be a require a rare and acutely perverse form of sadism on my part.¡± Merida¡¯s eyes narrowed as she read the faces of her three students. ¡°Which I do not have.¡± Ignoring the doubtful looks she was getting she moved to lean against the piled chairs, ¡°Now stop wasting time and begin.¡± Despite the archmage¡¯s insistence both Alec and Anesh did in fact waste some time, the two teenagers moving to face opposite each other and drawing their blades. Alec¡¯s trusty spatha felt heavier in his hand than usual as he saluted his oppenent whilst eyeing Anesh¡¯s own blade, his fellow student apparently having retrieved it during the scant minutes he and Holly had been banished to the corridor. He¡¯d never faced a rapier before but it only took until Anesh reduced his view of the slim blade to little more than a point for him to decide he hated it. Alec fancied himself an at least decent swordsman, it was hard not to be after months of training and several life or death battles, but one thing he¡¯d never been trained for was how to duel. Or at least how to duel someone like Anesh. Lutan, murderer of his parents and the man he¡¯d literally been trained on how best to kill, had favoured a suit of magekiller platemail and heavy bastard sword. Any battle between them would have had to be a game of cat and mouse, and Alec had not been cast in the role of the cat. The only chance he¡¯d have had to win would be to tire the paladin out, find ways to foul his legs and foot and in general stay out of reach of someone who had close to half a foot in height on him until he finally got a single opening to go for the kill. Anesh on the other hand¡­ Alec could barely see the tip of his blade even is it opened a cut on his forearm in the first few blows and the spatha felt clumsy in Alec¡¯s hands as he hastily deflected the others, giving ground rapidly. His opponent kept coming, opening up more shallow cuts on Alec¡¯s arms and fast enough that the teenager got no chance to circle and free up more room even as Anesh presented almost no target at all where he was turned sideways to him, one hand behind his back for balance and to stop Alec taking a swipe at it. The end came quickly. Alec¡¯s back bouncing off the wall as he ran out of room. His blade rose to try and stop the inevitable but too slow, Anesh¡¯s blade stopped on his throat, the full strength of his thrust stopped by Merida¡¯s barrier. ¡°Enough.¡± Merida¡¯s harsh voice growled out, ¡°Reset and begin again. And Anesh, I hope you¡¯re holding back right now, because if you aren¡¯t then what I just watched was inexcusable.¡± ¡°Archmage?¡± The dark skinned boy asked with genuine befuddlement, not even sure what he was asking. ¡°Oh dear. Well we all have our blindspots I suppose.¡± Merida shook her head in less-than-quiet disappointment. ¡°Now, again.¡± The second duel didn¡¯t go any better than the first for Alec, Anesh simply backing him into a wall with his longer, faster blade as the rookie desperately tried to defend, at one point nearly dropping his sword. ¡°Again.¡± By the third time Alec had been forced back against the wall, culminating in Anesh skewering one of his kidneys, he feared the month he¡¯d spent being healed, debriefed and detained had made him painfully rusty. In the final battle at Valda, just before they¡¯d gone to face Charigris, it was starting to feel like a natural extension of his hand, but now it just felt heavy and the point never landed quite where he planned. ¡®It¡¯s not you.¡¯ Holly¡¯s voice rang clear in his head. ¡®He¡¯s doing something to you. Other than the stabbing I mean.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re sure?¡¯ Alec asked, before mentally chastising himself. Holly wouldn¡¯t have said it otherwise, all he¡¯d done was make himself sound like an idiot and like he didn¡¯t trust her. ¡®Unless the hand he¡¯s got hidden behind his back normally glows blue¡­ yeah I¡¯m sure.¡¯ The dryad replied waspishly. Alec considered asking to share her eyesight for the next round but that really was asking for trouble. He could just about manage not to fall over his own feet when managing more than his fair share of senses, fighting someone was an absolute no-go unless he wanted to get skewered. And as the third round had shown him, Merida had been true to her word that it was only instantly fatal blows she¡¯d stop. Still this time when he engaged Anesh he took extra care to focus on directing his blade where he wanted it, moving slower as a consequence and picking up a hole in the shoulder in the process. This time though, he felt it. Just a slight change in the weight of the sword as he swung. Not much, just putting the sword a couple inches past where he¡¯d intended it. A couple of inches could be a lot in a sword fight, as Anesh had shown by deflecting his slight overextension even further to puncture his shoulder. The question was what on Reath to do about it? Sure he could grip the blade tighter so that slight difference wouldn¡¯t have much effect, but that was a very good way for Anesh to jolt the spatha out of his grip with the impact. The rapier might have been a lighter blade, but it wasn¡¯t that light. Ditto breaking it. It was a common misconception that the long, thin swords were fragile. And they were, but only comparatively. They were unlikely to survive a pitched battle, but they weren¡¯t going to snap from a couple of impacts with a heavier blade unless the owner was dumb enough to try a static block against something like a zweihander. But anyone that stupid deserved what was about to happen to them at that point. There was also the niggling feeling that even if Alec took the spell out of the equation, Anesh was simply the better swordsman. Still as he was yet again pinned to the wall, this time through a lung ¨C lucky him ¨C Alec resolved he was going to touch the other teenager with his blade at least once today. Finally he asked himself the most dangerous question. What would Erebus do? * Holly winced with half-shared pain as Anesh¡¯s sword took Alec in the chest. The dryad had not been having a good time watching. For all Alec was trying hard not to let the pain flow down their bond, his growing frustration was stymieing his own efforts. The feelings, and the cause of those feelings, hitting her in waves as his control waxed and waned, and waned more with each round. It was that which had made her tip him off as to what Anesh was doing. As much as Merida might regard it as a breach of her rule that only Alec would fight Anesh at first, it wasn¡¯t Merida being repeatedly stabbed without being able to do anything about it, was it?! The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Not that she could blame Alec too heavily for the pain being inflicted on her. It wasn¡¯t like he could do anything to stop it either. All Holly could really do was watch, learn, and try to narrow their bond as much as she could, Alec unwittingly fighting her every step of the way as his emotions (and pain) hit the narrow channel. She could tell he was planning something drastic, not exactly a surprise, though she didn¡¯t dare open up enough at this point to check his thoughts for what it was. When it happened it was without warning, one moment she¡¯d been watching the sparring the next sure was in a crumpled pile on the floor, clutching her left side as she tried her best not to scream. Small whimpers forcing their way past her teeth despite her best efforts. It wasn¡¯t the worst pain she¡¯d ever experienced. That still went to the flesh sizzling sensation of having a nullstone collar placed around her neck, but it was an easy shoe-in for second place. A sharp stabbing sensation in her midriff combined with the burning pain of the many wounds on Alec¡¯s arms as the bond was forced open by a cacophony of sensation of which the pain was just the appetizer. Most of what was coming through from Alec was triumph and determination, and it wasn¡¯t hard to see why. Over two feet of rapier were currently emerging from his back, one hand holding it firmly in place after he¡¯d purposefully stepped into the lunge. His own blade didn¡¯t extend quite so far out of Anesh¡¯s back, but both were clearly visible from Holly¡¯s crumpled position on the floor. It was that same position from the floor that allowed her to see the vindication that flashed across Merida¡¯s face for just a moment before the elf clapped her hands just once. The pain vanished, simply gone in a moment, in a wave of bright green magic that pulsed out from the archmage. ¡°I think I have seen enough from Alec. Come here both of you, you need healing. And don¡¯t think we won¡¯t be discussing that little stunt at a later date boy.¡± While the two boys withdrew their blades from each other with rather more hesitancy than had been used to put them there in the first place, Holly took a moment to centre herself. She wanted to believe that Alec hadn¡¯t known how much that would hurt her, but she¡¯d been able to feel his frustration. And if that was how frustrated she¡¯d felt through a bond slammed as tightly shut as she could manage, she could scarcely imagine how annoyed he¡¯d been. Annoyed enough that he still hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d hurt her, the dryad receiving nothing but waves of satisfaction from Alec as he got his wounds healed before bloodloss, or possibly shock, could club him insensate. Certainly the common room floor would need a mop taken to it, or at least it would have if Merida hadn¡¯t turned her attention there next. With two swift gestures the archmage summoned a ball of crackling fire as all the blood on the floor rose from the floor to surge towards the fire. For a few moments the fire spluttered and nearly died before she reasserted the spell. ¡°Let this be an important lesson to all of you. You do not leave your blood lying around if you want to live long. There are mages centuries your senior who have been struck down due to a wound they took during their training.¡± ¡°Erebus always maintained that those kinds of curses weren¡¯t worth worrying about.¡± Alec protested. ¡°Erebus was an archmage who has been in more life-or-death battles than you¡¯ve had meals and could turn the spell back on any thaumaturge trying their luck almost on reflex.¡± Merida countered flatly, ¡°Which is why, if I had some of his blood, I¡¯d wait for him to sleep and then cast the curse to make his heart explode.¡± Alec and Holly didn¡¯t need to be sharing a soul to give Archmage Merida the same doubtful look. ¡°Now, back to the lesson¡­ do you have a preferred weapon Holly?¡± Their teacher asked with something close to kindness sneaking its way in. ¡°Not especially¡­ unless magic counts?¡± Holly replied hesitantly, still clutching her side where the phantom pain had been stabbing her as if worried it would come back. ¡°Magic does indeed count, but not today. Today we¡¯re just focused on the physical.¡± Merida pursed her lips, ¡°If you lack a weapon that could prove a problem. While there will be classes on fighting unarmed, today I¡¯m afraid it would just involve Anesh stabbing you repeatedly.¡± ¡°I have a staff?¡± Holly suggested, brandishing Yew¡¯s stave uncertainly enough that Merida, Anesh and Alec winced. ¡°While I have no objections to you training to properly use a quarterstaff, both physically and as a spellcasting tool, that staff I cannot countenance.¡± Their teacher said as evenly as they could manage. ¡°Why not?¡± Holly asked, just a little petulantly. Everyone else seemed to get their magical weapon of choice afterall. ¡°Because I¡¯m not entirely sure I can stop it.¡± Merida admitted. ¡°There¡¯s a very good chance of you striking and killing Anesh.¡± ¡°It¡¯s that powerful?¡± Holly spluttered. She¡¯d known the staff was a powerful weapon, but not ¡®trouble for an archmage¡¯ powerful. ¡°An elder yew dryad¡¯s heartwood, freely given. That¡¯s not to mention the way its been tainted by use. Which you will not elaborate on to the other students. I don¡¯t think you understand the kind of weapon you¡¯re holding.¡± The elf half-explained, ¡°If I were to touch it without permission I¡¯d have to sheathe my hands in a magical barrier. If Anesh were to touch it without permission it would rot the flesh from his bones then puppeteer his corpse. That¡¯s without you doing anything. The freely given part is important. It was bequeathed to Erebus, and as his apprentice you were able to handle it, now it belongs to you and you have to give permission.¡± Holly nodded, ignoring the way Anesh, who had very much considered touching Yew¡¯s warstaff, had turned an alarming shade of grey, ¡°Then that¡¯s easily solved. Anesh, you¡¯re allowed to touch it.¡± Her gaze flitted back to Merida, ¡°Will that do?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The archmage admitted, ¡°On the one hand you¡¯ve very explicitly given permission, on the other hand you¡¯re intending to strike him with it so that might revoke the permission. As a dryad you may be better qualified to judge this than I am, however, given a mistake will cost us a rather promising student, we will err on the side of caution.¡± As she spoke she pulled over one of the tables with a spell, the wood warping under her attention until a quarterstaff sprang free from the table ¨C leaving it uneven ¨C to land in Merida¡¯s hand. ¡°Use this.¡± The archmage ordered, more or less pushing it into Holly¡¯s arms hard enough that Alec rubbed at his chest in sympathetic pain. Holly just nodded, handing off Yew¡¯s staff to Alec before taking what she hoped was a fighting stance. ¡°Let¡¯s do this then.¡± The first bout lasted just a few seconds. Anesh¡¯s blade slashed twice, the first swatting aside the staff and the second stopped by Merida¡¯s barrier on Holly¡¯s throat before the dryad¡¯s weapon could even try and stop it. ¡°Again.¡± Merida snapped, as if the outcome would change with repetition. This time Anesh didn¡¯t even bother knocking the staff aside, just thrusting past it for his blade to be stopped by Merida¡¯s spell, provoking a slightly muted sound of outrage from Alec. The archmage had allowed a similar strike to pierce his shoulder and the blatant favouritism rankled. That he would have felt the strike as well hadn¡¯t occurred to him. Merida didn¡¯t bother with a third bout, the elf rubbing at the bridge of her nose in carefully expressed frustration, ¡°It appears that Alec will not be the only one in dire need of remedial lessons. How you survived a pitched battle I know not.¡± ¡°I was allowed to use magic then.¡± Holly retorted, ¡°And people had my back.¡± ¡°Well there appears little point having Anesh duel the pair of you.¡± Merida continued, as if Holly hadn¡¯t interjected, ¡°It¡¯s a waste of his talents and I fear will do little to help develop yours. Between you, at least, there¡¯s a competent combat mage. A pity that life is seldom so charitable as to let that be enough.¡± ¡°We-¡± Alec began, but this time Merida wasn¡¯t having it. ¡°You are all dismissed. You may amuse yourselves for the rest of the day whilst I try to salvage something from your situations. Anesh, remain behind. I will require your input.¡± That last bit certainly surprised them, Anesh most of all. But the apprentice necromancer knew better than to question as both Alec and Holly did not quite flee Merida¡¯s presence. ¡°Of course archmage.¡± * ¡°Your thoughts?¡± Archmage Merida asked simply once she¡¯d felt Holly and Alec wander down the corridor, the elf¡¯s attention an almost physical weight upon Anesh¡¯s shoulders as he withered under her regard. Anesh took his time in the answering, all too aware he was, somehow, being asked to pronounce judgement upon the two new students as much as give an opinion. There was no other way to interpret the stern and austere words nor the way was only just shy of glaring as she waited. If he gave the wrong response he could well get Alec and Holly killed. If he gave a really wrong response he could get himself killed. And if he lied to her face¡­ well this was the Necropolis. Death was one of the lighter punishments available. ¡°They¡¯re dangerous.¡± He said finally, the words starting at a trickle and ending in a flood, ¡°I don¡¯t know what they¡¯ve gone through, but they¡¯re too jumpy. I¡¯m certain they planned to stab me when I knocked on their door. They walk around in body armour and as for Alec¡­ who deliberately gets stabbed during a friendly spar just to land a blow?! That¡¯s not normal!¡± Merida simply nodded, ¡°I see. Thank you for your input. If you hurry you might be able to attend the rest of your normal classes.¡± The archmage watched him leave before summoning over one of the chairs, sinking tiredly into it. The lessons had been surprisingly tiring even for someone as powerful as her. Part of it was her own fault, getting carried away getting Holly to guess increasingly complicated mana signatures and insisting that the sparring be done with live blades (and the rather complex barrier spell that she¡¯d been using to selectively stop them.) That wasn¡¯t how combat training usually went, but she¡¯d wanted to scare the pair, hoping that a little pain - more than a little if she were honest ¨C would push them to seek magical knowledge elsewhere. Combine that with the hideous difficulty and draining intensity of creating something as potent as chaos from mere mana, a trick she doubted even the fabled Erebus could have done on the fly, and the Archmage of the Myriad Arts was frankly exhausted. Pretty much every mage to even make it to their journeymanship had external sources of mana, or other energies. But they were almost universally finite resources, even if it was just their own carefully stockpiled mana and Merida certainly hadn¡¯t planned on spending that on a mere lesson. She was paying for that pride now. Enough so she¡¯d skipped the conversation she¡¯d been planning to have with the duo after the lessons for fear they might see a moment of weakness from her. Anesh was more right than he knew. Alec and Holly were dangerous and traumatized, but still they would only be out of her sight for a few hours. How much trouble could they possibly get into? Oathmaker - Chapter 12 - A Singular Perspective Shockingly, and in gross defiance of the theory of narrative causality, Holly and Alec managed to avoid getting into trouble before lunch. Or at least they managed not to get in trouble with anyone else at the Necropolis, the pair retreating to their room for now, and locking the door for good measure. If the two had been observed, by a somewhat uninformed observer it had to be admitted, two teenagers locking themselves in a bedroom would have raised some alarm bells. But if there was an observer then wiser heads prevailed. Holly and Alec were far more likely to be trying to brew explosives than anything that involved taking their clothes off. Certainly something explosive was brewing in the room as the two glared at each other, Alec sat cross-legged upon the cold floor while Holly tried to stare a hole in his skull from her position atop the bed, her thoughts and feelings kept behind a wall that Alec could not pierce. If the bond had been narrow during their combat assessment, now it was practically sheered, the thin strands that connected their combined soul so frayed that Alec¡¯s chest hurt. A deep, empty, gnawing ache as if he was being hollowed out as Holly mutilated their combined self to make her point, not dropping eye contact with him for even a moment, a glimmer of Von Mori¡¯s malice and madness in her deep green gaze as she unravelled the bond as far as she dared. Until Alec actually clutched at his chest, knuckles white as he fought not to scream and even though he knew she had to be feeling the very same pain it didn¡¯t warm the steel in her eyes by so much as a flicker. Finally he could take no more, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Whatever it is I did I am sorry.¡± As soon as he said it he knew he¡¯d said the wrong thing. ¡°Whatever you did?!¡± Holly shrieked from the bed, ¡°You got me stabbed you woodrotted spruce!¡± ¡°I did?¡± Alec asked, mentally trying to run back through his duel with Anesh. He remembered feeling frustrated, of being in pain from the cuts on his arms, and, with a rather sinking feeling he remembered the surge of triumph as he¡¯d stepped into Anesh¡¯s rapier, his own thrust striking true. And that he hadn¡¯t tried to shield Holly from any of it. He knew the dryad felt pain a lot more deeply than he did¡­ that wasn¡¯t quite accurate, dryads felt pain exactly the same as he did, just with none of the helpful chemical cocktails such as adrenaline that helped a human force their way through. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He replied, simply yet sincerely, ¡°I didn¡¯t realise¡­ I...¡± Alec seeking some sort of justification that wouldn¡¯t paint him as a thoughtless idiot, ¡°I messed up Holly. But couldn¡¯t you just have said that instead of, you know, torturing us both?¡± ¡°I could have. And you¡¯d have remember it until the next time you got carried away.¡± Holly informed him, cold as the void between worlds as she stared him down, still not restoring the bond. ¡°Pain is a good teacher. This way I know you won¡¯t forget about the consequences for me the next time you decide to do something stupid.¡± ¡°That¡¯s insane.¡± Alec snapped, ¡°So every time I screw up I can expect you to torture me? Holly that¡¯s just not something you do to someone.¡± ¡°And you think it wasn¡¯t torture for me?¡± She snapped, jumping to her feet, ¡°Pain for pain. Seems like a fair trade to me!¡± ¡°Except we¡¯re friends. Or at least I thought we were.¡± Alec retorted, real heat starting to creep into his voice, ¡°Yes I screwed up. I screwed up badly but just¡­ just stop Hol, this is hurting us both and it¡¯s achieving nothing!¡± ¡°And you¡¯re the one who gets to decide that?¡± Holly yelled, ¡°You want the bond restored? Fine then!¡± Alec wasn¡¯t sure how you were supposed to release tension on a soul bond that had been taken just shy of breaking point, but what he was sure of was that you weren¡¯t supposed to let all that tension snap back like an elastic band. Impact wasn¡¯t quite the right word as his mind and Holly¡¯s were flung together. There was a lot more blending and smushing involved. Never good words to hear when the brain was involved. For a few moments Alec had to actively fight to remember who was, that he was a young man raised in the village of Respite rather than a dryad who had spent her early years fighting for her life in the most boring ways possible. He managed it but barely, focusing on his rage at Holly, his fury at her for deliberately getting stabbed, her lack of care for his safety, how badly his own combat training with the staff had gone¡­ except that wasn¡¯t right¡­ was it? ¡°We could be in trouble here.¡± His words (was he even a he right now?) came out of two mouths, the inflections identical as Alec/Holly felt inside themselves for the bond that linked their souls and failed to find it. Instead there was what they could only describe as a bizarre tangle where their different magickas merged in a knot of Gordian proportions. By definition it had to be a single channel, but where it started and ended Hollec could not say. ¡°We are not calling ourselves Hollec.¡± Ally growled out loud, then realised that wasn¡¯t much better. ¡°We have to call ourselves something.¡± Hollec insisted, ¡°Who knows how long we¡¯ll be stuck like this? Naturally I blame you¡­ I mean me¡­ uh¡­ yeah this is a problem.¡± ¡°Then maybe I shouldn¡¯t have¡­ you- we? Yeah let¡¯s go with we. Maybe we shouldn¡¯t have started an argument and been more thoughtful of ourselves.¡± ¡°That at least we¡¯re in agreement on.¡± ¡°Good...¡± Ally¡¯s thoughts returned to the entangled ¡®glob¡¯ where one soul ended and the other began. ¡°We need to fix this. Of course we do but how?¡± They didn¡¯t have a good answer to that. But given the alternative they had to try. Hollec heavily doubted that it would be regarded well if after just half a day (if that) of lessons they¡¯d managed to damage their soul to the point irrepairability. Slowly they extended their will to the point where magicka and soul met, using their innate mana, muddled as it was, to feel along the mess, just examining it for now. Afterall it was carelessly manipulating it that had gotten them into this situation to begin with. The initial inspection turned up little they hadn¡¯t already gathered, the bond had tangled upon itself, drawing the two souls into such close proximity they had begun to merge. So how to fix it? Ally¡¯s initial thought was to simply try and untangle the bond, but that proved impossible where some of the tangled strands of the bond had also begun to merge with each other. First and foremost they needed to see to their bodies, which, with there senses turned inwards, had been just standing in place, and, in the case of the human body, begun to drool ever so slightly. What a strange thought that was. The human body. Hollec knew that wasn¡¯t quite right, but it how could it be Alec¡¯s when Alec didn¡¯t currently exist? They sharply cut off that thought, lest it sink in too deep, melding them forever. They weren¡¯t sure that would happen, could happen, but at this point they were really in too deep for further risks. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. It took a surprising amount of concentration to get both bodies to sit down upon the bed. At first the answer had seemed obvious, to only direct one body at a time but all that had succeeded in doing was giving them not just one, but two, concussions as a momentary lapse made both move at once, face first into each other. The doubled senses were also a problem, just too much input, too much noise. Still after a concerning amount of scrabbling on the floor both were sat, or more accurately slumped, on the bed with their eyes shut. Then and only then could their attention turn back to their soul. The news was not good. Even in that, probably brief, time the damage has gotten worse as more of the strands had melded. ¡°There¡¯s not enough time.¡± Ally lamented, ¡°If I just had more time I could- We could- We don¡¯t have time¡­ If we delay much longer we will become I.¡± There was a long pause. ¡°This is going to hurt.¡± ¡°Yes it will.¡± Tentatively they took a strand of their magicka and smoothed it into a blade. Then there was nothing to do but cut, and keep cutting, nearly every section that still had a clear owner was cut at the join, every section that wasn¡¯t was cut anyway, as close to the centre of the merging as possible. Perhaps they could have slowly separated whatever parts of their identity had blurred, if they¡¯d had more knowledge, more practice and more time but they could feel how they were starting to blur. A memory of Holly coming down the stairs for breakfast. The time a particularly wet spring had caused Alec¡¯s roots to rot at the tips. When at last they were done, only a single thread remained and Alec was once more Alec and Holly was once more Holly. Probably. There were still inconsistencies, memories they¡¯d wrongfully transplanted in, minor aspects of personality that hadn¡¯t been there before, but all of that was fixable. Now they¡¯d done it once Alec was pretty sure he¡¯d be able to slowly feed the memories back across then hire a memory editor to remove it from his own head and put Holly back into her own memories in hers. And vice versa. Admittedly he had no idea how much a memory editor cost, where to find one or how necromancers even earned money, but those were all details. The plan itself was sound. Alec paused at that point, usually when he had a thought like that Holly didn¡¯t hesitate to chime in with something snarky, but for the first time in months his head was silent, and oddly lonely. Right now, he realised, all he was getting from the bond were slight stabs of emotion, the sensations as weak as they¡¯d even been. He wasn¡¯t even sure they could share something as complicated as pain right now, let alone thoughts. Just a single thin thread anchoring him to the dryad. Who knew what would happen if he tried to send more than that thin filament could tolerate, especially with how stressed it already was... That was when he realized just what he was feeling from Holly. Panic. Pure, unadulterated panic as she desperately tried to pull the mana she needed just to keep existing and the bond threatened to burst under the strain. With a nervous gulp of a surprisingly dry mouth, he opened his eyes and tried to get to his feet only to collapse forwards onto his knees. How long had he been sat there that his limbs were so stiff?! Turning to observe his companion, he noticed Holly¡¯s eyes were shut, the colour literally bleaching out of her wood brown skin as he watched her face scrunched up even further in concentration. As gently as he could manage he placed a hand on the dryad¡¯s shoulder, her eyes bursting open as she startled. ¡°Easy Holly.¡± He assured her, ¡°Just relax a moment, I¡¯ll send mana, you take.¡± Slowly Holly nodded, not daring to say a word as she fought against her instincts while Alec slowly fed mana into the bond, the young woman taken it out, the more even process not putting such a strain on it as her just taking until a healthy colour returned to her cheeks. ¡°Let¡¯s not do that again.¡± Alec suggested weakly as he sagged down to sit beside her in relief, an arm extending almost automatically across her shoulders. ¡°Yeah.¡± Holly agreed, rubbing at her eyes, ¡°That was...¡± ¡°Unpleasant?¡± ¡°Yeah, unpleasant¡¯s a good wood.¡± The young woman agreed, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for¡­ leaf rot I don¡¯t even have the words for half of what just happened. Do you?¡± ¡°Not even close.¡± Alec admitted, shaking his head in commiseration. ¡°I¡¯m sure there are mages somewhere who put words to all of that but for now let¡¯s just go with ¡®The Incident¡¯.¡± ¡°That works. Anyway, sorry for ¨C dramatic pause ¨C The Incident. I didn¡¯t think that would happen. Didn¡¯t know it could happen even.¡± Alec nodded, ¡°We are very much fumbling in the dark when it comes to this stuff. Seruatis¡¯ library had a fair bit on dryads but not sundered ones. Still if there¡¯s anywhere likely to have actual information on what we are, it¡¯s gotta be here.¡± ¡°One can only hope.¡± Holly said, before, to mutual surprise turning to hug the teenager around the waist, squeezing uncomfortably tightly with more-than-human strength. ¡°I really am sorry.¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t the only one who fucked up.¡± Alec said as he returned the embrace somewhat awkwardly. He was certain this was the first time Holly had ever shown him actual physical affection. Sure she¡¯d handed him things, hit him a couple times, even a friendly punch in the shoulder once, but hugs? Not once. ¡°I should never have gotten you that angry.¡± He paused, realizing the apology was insufficient, ¡°Or done the things that made you angry. I was just so focused on winning I lost sight of the consequences.¡± ¡°Apology accepted.¡± Holly told him as she released the hug. Alec opened his mouth to do the same, only to whirl round at a rather mocking clapping from the corner of the room. Archmage Merida¡¯s smirk was not reduced one iota by the twin glares directed at her as she dropped her invisibility spell. If anything it grew. ¡°I would have interrupted sooner but you both appeared to be having something of a moment.¡± ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Alec demanded, trying to sound defiant but the way he¡¯d gone deathly still spoke to his fear. As if Merida were a wild animal that would attack if he made any sudden movements. ¡°Oh your fellow students were¡­ I want to say concerned but honesty compels me to say curious as to why you never appeared at lunch. So naturally I assumed an emergency and broke in.¡± Merida shrugged, walking over to the bed to peer down at them both. ¡°Missing lunch counts as an emergency?¡± Holly queried, torn between doubtful and amused at the idea. ¡°Alec is a teenager. At minimum I presumed him held against his will.¡± Merida stated with complete seriousness. ¡°Instead I found something far more interesting.¡± ¡°Which is?¡± Alec snapped, not looking to indulge the ancient elf¡¯s theatrics. ¡°A future. For the two of you.¡± She declared, hand lashing out before Alec could even flinch. But the blow never hit, the archmage instead grabbing the teen by the chin to peer into his eyes. ¡°Interesting.¡± Was all she said before releasing him. ¡°Congratulations are in order. The two of you survived your first major argument.¡± ¡°We have argued before.¡± Holly told her, a hint of defiance slipping in despite the fear. ¡°Not with the bond between you so developed you have not. It¡¯s one of the more common ways for sundered dryads and their hosts to die. An argument escalates, one of the two idiots gets the smart idea to torture their partner through the bond, surprise surprise it doesn¡¯t work, things escalate further and either they actually snap it, or the tension¡¯s released all at once and two personalities get splattered into one unholy mess.¡± Merida shrugged before going back to smirking. ¡°I take it you¡¯ve seen this before then?¡± Holly observed. ¡°In every single sundered I ever encountered.¡± Merida admitted, her own eyes aglow as she assessed the state of them, ¡°You¡¯ve done better than most. Not just kept your general identities intact but most of your memories too. Frankly I¡¯ve seen qualified soul-surgeons do worse jobs.¡± ¡°You could have warned us.¡± Alec growled, ¡°You had to know we weren¡¯t exactly happy with each other when classes ended.¡± ¡°And am I to also give you hugs and kiss your knees better when you scrape them too?¡± Merida sneered, ¡°This isn¡¯t some pathetic college of magic like the Bastion Arcanum. This is the Necropolis. We teach necromancy here, and necromancy is dangerous. You want safe, go study shield-magic. Here we earn our attrition rate.¡± Holly and Alec just nodded, the word ¡®psychopath¡¯ passing unheard between them. ¡°So what should we do then? Just try to get along?¡± Holly asked cautiously. ¡°Oh Hells above and below, no.¡± Merida laughed, ¡°You¡¯ll drive each other mad doing that. Besides this problem will keep rearing its ugly head every time your bond grows strong enough, feedback loops are like that. And every time you¡¯ll blend a little more personality until you¡¯re basically the same person. That¡¯s if you¡¯re lucky of course.¡± ¡°And what if we¡¯re unlucky?¡± Alec taking his turn to ask a question. ¡°Then you¡¯ll fail to cut enough of the bond in time and actually become one person. At which point, unable to properly coordinate both bodies at once, you will likely starve to death.¡± The archmage informed them, ¡°Of course if you manage to avoid both those pitfalls, then the real fun begins...¡± ¡°Which is¡­?¡± Holly asked her softly. ¡°For me to know and you to find out. Besides telling you wouldn¡¯t help you, if anything it would just cause you to panic before it happens.¡± That said Merida headed for the door, still smiling from ear to ear, ¡°Oh, and if you hurry you might still manage to make dinner in the common room before Brin has his thirds.¡± Alec let out a breath as there was finally a door between them and Merida, ¡°Do you ever get the feeling that necromancers enjoy being cryptic a little bit too much?¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 13 - "I Thought It Was Obvious." ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re still alive.¡± Was the remark that greeted Holly and Alec as they stepped into a common room transformed. The pair almost missing Kristos¡¯ pleased observation as they took in the changes to the room, not missing the amusement their dumbstruck looks were getting from the other students. At first glance it wasn¡¯t anything too drastic. Most of the furniture was missing, the bookshelves, most of the chairs, and all but two of the tables. But that was just the most superficial impression, a closer observation would reveal that the chairs weren¡¯t quite the same ones that had been there before. Ditto the tables. That wasn¡¯t spectacular in its own rights. Archmage Merida had rather casually demonstrated how easily a mage could move furniture. But there was one other detail that stuck out. The walls were off. Not by much, just a couple lost feet in each direction bar the ceiling but the conclusion once someone noticed, and the advanced students probably wouldn¡¯t have been advanced students if they couldn¡¯t, was that this was actually a different room. Slowly and wordlessly both Holly and Alec stepped back beyond the threshold of the door, closing it to make absolutely certain it was the same door they¡¯d been through previously. ¡°Is it the same door?¡± Alec asked, running his hands over it, and only getting a splinter for his trouble. ¡°You can sense wood right?¡± ¡°Living wood.¡± Holly corrected, whilst deftly plucking the splinter from his hands as if it had been magnetized, ¡°This stuff has been dead longer than we¡¯ve been alive¡­ just like it was this morning.¡± ¡°So the same door.¡± Her partner concluded. Alec didn¡¯t need to elaborate on why that was worrying. Whilst neither of them were experts in magical theory, they knew how taxing teleports were. Enough that several of Reath¡¯s top battlemages had had to pool their resources and work for hours to teleport just a handful of people. To teleport an entire room, likely several tonnes of stone all told, just to give some of their apprentices a nice place to eat¡­ the expense was simply unjustifiable. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s teleporting us?¡± Holly suggested brightly, before her face fell, knowing Alec¡¯s answer before he even said it. ¡°Still too much mana. Maybe it reshapes the room when noone¡¯s in it? Either way I doubt it¡¯s dangerous.¡± That said they opened back up the door and stepped inside, heading straight to the even larger, and far more laden, buffet table. ¡°Oh good, you¡¯re still alive.¡± Kristos repeated, in precisely the same tone, getting a smattering of chuckles and giggles from his fellow students before they studiously returned to their food. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the room change, you¡¯ll get used to it¡­ I am told.¡± Aware of the weight of eyes upon their backs, the duo headed for the buffet. The food still steaming hot despite their late arrival, and a lot more familiar, at least to Alec. The table something of a greatest hits compilation of Agh¡¯zak¡¯s favoured dishes in Seruatis. A mound of mashed potatoes, larger than Alec¡¯s head. Several roast chickens. A gravy boat that he honestly wasn¡¯t sure he could even lift. And a large quantity of roasted and boiled vegetables. Alec helped himself to everything, surprising not just himself but going from Brin¡¯s somewhat dubious glance at his plate the ogre too. ¡°Worked big magic.¡± The ogre¡¯s rumbling voice declared, ¡°Very big. Alec should be more careful.¡± ¡°Is it that obvious?¡± Holly asked them, abandoning Alec as he tried to tip the gravy jug without spilling it everywhere. ¡°You go missing for the best part of a day, come back abnormally hungry. It¡¯s pretty obvious.¡± Hope told her, the spider not eating with them, apparently just enjoying their company. Her own chair a bizarre construct of ropes that hung from the ceiling through which her limbs were hooked. ¡°Can you even recover mana from eating?¡± She asked, sitting down in the chair that was probably for her. A high backed wooden affair with carefully carved holly leaves. The dryad deciding not to question that the Necropolis apparently just had such a chair ready and waiting. ¡°Nope.¡± Kristos said cheerily, ¡°I mean there are foods full of mana, and you can learn to use it, but that¡¯s really more of a fae or demon thing. Reath just doesn¡¯t have enough ambient mana to do it, unless you plan to start eating dragon. In which case good luck and we¡¯ve never met.¡± ¡°Brin gets more spells from eating. But ogres special.¡± Brin half-explained. ¡°More accurately ogres produce so much vitae, which is to say life-force, that they can use it to fuel their spells, and part of the key to producing lots of life is eating plenty of food.¡± Anesh clarified. ¡°Then why is it obvious we did a big spell?¡± Holly asked, looking to Alec as he sat down, but the teenager was far too concerned with his meal with join the conversation. Or be over-worried about table manners. ¡°Phantom sensation.¡± Alicia told her flatly, finally joining the conversation. ¡°You used a lot of magicka and it left you feeling empty. Problem is your body doesn¡¯t really know what to do with that feeling, so it files it as hungry instead. There¡¯s been cases of people literally eating themselves to death after a big ritual spell.¡± As she finished she stared pointedly at Alec who was trying to shove a whole chicken breast into his mouth. ¡°So what was it?¡± Kristos asked, leaning forwards in his seat, his own plated already empty bar a few patches of gravy. ¡°Demon summoning? Working on your first skeleton? Runework?¡± ¡°Not saying.¡± Holly told him with a smirk, deciding to go for aloof and mysterious. ¡°Aww, come on Holly, throw us a bone. You can¡¯t go missing then give us nothing.¡± The faeblood wheedled. She shot her soulbound a glance, ¡°Alec and I had a bit of an argument. That¡¯s all your getting.¡± ¡°Ooh, now that is interesting. Magical duel huh? Wands at ten paces?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡± Alicia snapped, ¡°They¡¯re soulbound. They can¡¯t actually hurt each other, not without hurting themselves.¡± ¡°Then how-¡± Anesh began, before quailing beneath Alicia¡¯s glare. ¡°Will you all stop trying to pry out secrets from each other. It¡¯s childish and frankly could get us killed.¡± ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating a little bit surely?¡± Kristos said, trying to laugh it off. ¡°Okay. Kristos if I were to ask you about your parentage and you answered fully and honestly, what would happen?¡± Alicia snapped. The faeblood looked down at his feet, ¡°A war probably.¡± ¡°Exactly. Anesh, which books did you get the spells on your hands from?¡± ¡°You know I can¡¯t-¡± ¡°Hope what-¡± ¡°Don¡¯t even go that far.¡± The arachni warned, ¡°It could kill us all.¡± ¡°And Brin¡­ okay I actually don¡¯t know or suspect anything like that about Brin, but that could just mean he¡¯s better at hiding it than you other idiots.¡± ¡°Brin has no secrets from Brin¡¯s friends¡­ or Brin¡¯s enemies. Should Brin start having secrets?¡± The ogre asked seriously, brow scrunched in concerned thoughts. ¡°Brin has always found secrets silly things. Always having to remember which person knows what thing wastes thinking time that could be used on important thoughts.¡± ¡°And sometimes knowing things is a good way to get killed.¡± Alicia hissed, ¡°This isn¡¯t hard people. Be as friendly as you like, but the past is another country, and it doesn¡¯t accept tourists.¡± ¡°Yes Brin knows the rules but Brin doesn¡¯t have to like them.¡± The ogre shrugged, ¡°Everyone have all food they need? Brin about to eat leftovers.¡± ¡°I¡¯m good¡­¡± Alec said, finally looking up from his now empty plate, ¡°Anyone else?¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The question was met by a bunch of shaking heads, much to Brin¡¯s relief as the ogre got up with surprising daintiness from his reinforced chair and stalked over to begin devouring what remained of mash mountain. Alec took a few moments to watch the ogre walk away before he turned to address Alicia directly, ¡°If we can¡¯t talk about ourselves, how on Reath are we supposed to get to know each other?¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t. Attachment is weakness.¡± The more senior apprentice told him. ¡°Maybe, but cooperation is strength.¡± Alec countered flatly. ¡°I don¡¯t need to be your friend to work with you.¡± Alicia declared, sour scowl so deep Alec suspected he¡¯d actually offended her. ¡°It does help though.¡± He continued blithely. ¡°Look I don¡¯t know why you dislike Holly and I so much but that¡¯s fine. Whatever. And if you want to keep it to yourself that¡¯s also fine. But can you at least not try and police my behaviour.¡± ¡°I¡¯m trying to save your lives. All of your lives.¡± She hissed back, pushing her chair sharply back to stand with a bass screech of wood on stone. ¡°They might not know who you are, Alec of Respite, but I do. And if they are fool enough to ask you about your past, then at least I won¡¯t be here to die with them.¡± Her piece said the necromancer stormed out, and perhaps fled for fear she¡¯d be in earshot when Alec next spoke. In deference to her fear, or more accurately because it was rude to talk about someone when they were still there, Alec waited for the door to slam before he asked. ¡°Is she always so...-¡± ¡°Melodramatic?¡± Kristos suggested. ¡°Pretty much.¡± ¡°I was actually looking for ¡®intense¡¯.¡± Alec finished somewhat wretchedly. ¡°Also pretty much.¡± The faeblood said. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s harder for her than most. The weight of expectation, you know?¡± Alec did not know, the teen shaking his head sharply, ¡°Not the foggiest I¡¯m afraid.¡± ¡°Huh. Well she¡¯s a legacy student like you and Anesh.¡± Kristos told them, ¡°Except her parents are way, way up the chain, so I hear, and apparently the shoes they¡¯ve given her to fill are several sizes too large.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not actually a legacy student.¡± Alec said slowly, not quite able to make eye contact with Kristos as he said it. ¡°Come off it, Anesh said you were the apprentice of one of the bigwigs that got killed against the demon queen that hit Contenmere last month. You don¡¯t get that sort of apprenticeship without some sort of connections.¡± ¡°Demon queen he says. As if they¡¯re something that just arrives like the weather.¡± Anesh observed, massaging his forehead with his fingers. ¡°And don¡¯t go pinning your presumptions on me.¡± ¡°Well how else am I meant to interpret it? If they lost their master at the battle then it¡¯s one of the liches, and the only way to even get one of them to even notice you exist is someone calling in a favour. Unless you¡¯re suggesting they just happened to blunder into a senior necromancer in the wild?¡± ¡°We are still here.¡± Holly pointed out, ¡°You could just ask us?¡± ¡°Yeah we could.¡± Kristos agreed, ¡°But this way is more fun.¡± The dryad rolled her eyes, especially when Hope added, ¡°Mind if I get in on this game? Because I think I might have figured it out.¡± ¡°The floor is yours oh mighty arachnid...¡± Kristos declared with a regal sweep of his arm. ¡°Well it wasn¡¯t just liches who fought Tza¡¯rahlitzek...¡± Hope began cautiously, ¡°So what if they were apprenticed to someone else that died there?¡± ¡°Holly was very specific.¡± Anesh told them fiercely, ¡°A male senior necromancer.¡± ¡°It could be a misdirect.¡± Kristos suggested, ¡°Natalya of the Gardeners was present for the battle, even if she didn¡¯t participate, and it would explain a couple other things.¡± ¡°The Gardeners don¡¯t take apprentices.¡± Anesh said confidently, carefully ignoring the bemused if exasperated expressions of Holly and Alec. ¡°It can¡¯t be her.¡± ¡°Some of the Gardeners do-¡± Hope butted in, only to be butted out again almost immediately by Anesh. ¡°Not her kind of Gardener. Trust me. Assassins don¡¯t take apprentices on the job with them.¡± ¡°Then I don¡¯t see who it could be.¡± Kristos declared, putting his hands up in defeat, ¡°The only other necr- oh.¡± There was a muted gasp as the faeblooded mage shut himself up, going so far as to cover his mouth with both hands. ¡°Oh what?¡± Anesh grumbled, ¡°You can¡¯t have some big realisation then just leave us out of it.¡± ¡°Alicia was right.¡± Kristos mumbled as he dropped his hands, ¡°This is a very stupid and dangerous game that we should not be playing.¡± ¡°What is game?¡± Brin asked, almost causing whiplash to classmates as their heads spun round, Alec and Kristos both getting their blades halfway from their sheathes before they realised it was just their classmate, as he sat back down on his seat, the buffet table bare once more. ¡°It¡¯s not fair that you can be that big yet move that quietly.¡± Kristos said as he brought his breathing back under control. The ogre shrugged, ¡°Brin found people far more scared when Brin is loud than when Brin is quiet. Now what is game?¡± ¡°We were trying to guess who Holly¡¯s master was when Kristos got all quiet all of a sudden.¡± Anesh explained somewhat waspishly. ¡°Oh. Brin can see why Kristos stopped playing. Is easy game. Holly and Alec trained by Archmage of Entropy, Erebus.¡± Brin said with a shrug, the ogre smiling broadly before realising he was being stared at by just about everyone. ¡°Or not easy. Brin was sure that was right answer. Is Brin wrong?¡± Alec took in the shocked expressions of his classmates, Anesh¡¯s jaw was hanging open and even while he wouldn¡¯t claim to be an expert on arachni body-language he was pretty sure the way Hope had slipped and managed to entangle herself in her rope-chair was a good indicator of surprise. For a few moments he considered denying it. Usually it was in those moments that Holly would interject her own thoughts, the dryad the proverbial angel (or devil when the mood took her) on his shoulder. But the bond couldn¡¯t support that sort of input right now, Alec turning to glance for just a moment at her, receiving a small nod in return. She was right, of course, it had always only been a matter of time before they were revealed as the proteges of the Necropolis¡¯ black sheep. A denial now would just make them harder to trust later. ¡°Brin is correct. We were apprenticed to Erebus. When he left Reath he bequeathed us his warstaff and told us to go find ourselves.¡± Alec gave a somewhat helpless shrug. It was Kristos who recovered first, or at least spoke first, ¡°So what was he actually like?¡± It was a surprisingly difficult question Alec realized. How did one sum up the most powerful mage of the era? ¡°He was incredibly focused.¡± Holly told them, ¡°Kind when he could be. Cold when he had to be. And just¡­ tired. Deeply tired.¡± ¡°Was it dangerous? Travelling with him?¡± Anesh asked, leaning forwards in his seat. ¡°Was he dangerous to travel with?¡± Kristos said, doing the same. The two newcomers finding themselves surprisingly crowded as everyone tried to get their questions answered. ¡°Yes to Anesh. No to Kristos.¡± Holly answered, reclining in her chair a little. ¡°Next?¡± ¡°Did he really kill the Red Cap in single combat?¡± The faeblood demanded eagerly. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t really call it single combat. He told the Red Cap to back down, he didn¡¯t, so Erebus just detonated his skull. At least I think that¡¯s what happened, it was a little hard to follow.¡± ¡°No way. You can¡¯t just¡­ just¡­ kill a Sidhe Lord. Not in Arcadia. They¡¯re practically gods on their home turf.¡± Kristos breathed. ¡°I mean¡­ he did kill an Imperator?¡± Holly pointed out bemusedly. ¡°On Reath. That¡¯s different.¡± Kristos protested. ¡°Well yeah. She was a lot more dangerous.¡± Holly needled, smirking ever so slightly as she became aware her audience would buy just about anything she said. ¡°What was she like?¡± Hope asked, the arachni bobbing a little from side to side. ¡°She was¡­ uh¡­ she was...¡± The dryad floundered. If Erebus was hard to put into words, Tza¡¯rahlitzek was much worse. Because some of the words hadn¡¯t yet been invented. ¡°She was like standing too close to an open furnace.¡± Alec said solemnly, ¡°Like there was a steep slope to the entire world and all paths led down to her. When she spoke it was like she was telling you what was going to happen. And it didn¡¯t matter how beautiful the blow, how magnificent the ploy, she was merely amused by it, as if you were a particularly dumb child who¡¯d given a good answer. Something she tolerated just because you were entertaining.¡± ¡°Then how did he kill her?¡± Anesh asked, ¡°If she was that all-powerful.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t tell you that.¡± Alec replied after only a moment¡¯s hesitation, ¡°Alicia¡¯s right about that. Pretty much every weapon used in that battle we¡¯ve been sworn to secrecy on. And every person to be honest.¡± ¡°Oh come on. We know a bunch of liches turned up. Does it really matter who the other Council factions sent?¡± Kristos grumbled, throwing his hands in the air. ¡°I don¡¯t think the Council sent anyone.¡± Alec admitted before his brain could catch up with his mouth. ¡°What?!¡± Anesh mumbled, ¡°Why?¡± The teenager shrugged helplessly. ¡°I have no idea.¡± Which was a lie. He had more than a slight inkling, because Tza¡¯rahlitzek had as good as told them. He could still hear the imperator¡¯s declaration echoing in his mind if he let it; ¡®everyone else will fall in line once I kill you.¡¯ ¡°We should probably talk about something else.¡± Holly suggested, ¡°Like what classes are like?¡± ¡°One that¡¯s a lot more boring.¡± Kristos pointed out, ¡°And two it¡¯s surprisingly hard to answer. Especially as a couple of your lessons I¡¯ve never even heard of before. What even is a ¡®mana bath¡¯?¡± ¡°It¡¯s water heavily saturated in mana.¡± Holly replied with a shrug. ¡°And why is only one of you getting it?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you that.¡± The dryad replied, while none-too-subtly elbowing Alec as he opened his mouth to answer. ¡°Why- Crap.¡± Kristos cut himself off as a shrill high-pitched tone blared through the common room. ¡°Room change! Everyone out!¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Alec asked, getting up from his chair anyway. The urgency in Kristos¡¯ voice spurring him forwards. ¡°No time. We¡¯ve got thirty seconds.¡± The faeblood yelled, getting up to help Hope out of her rope-chair, the arachni hurriedly scuttling for the door as Brin almost yanked it off its hinges, holding it open as everyone rushed out, Anesh tripping on his own feet and just scrabbling on all fours over the threshold just in time as the door closed itself, overpowering even Brin¡¯s grip. There was a flash of blue light from under the door as everyone caught their breath. Kristos forcing a smile, ¡°That was uncomfortably close.¡± ¡°What even was that?¡± Alec asked, reaching slowly for the door handle as if expecting it to electrocute him. It didn¡¯t. ¡°I told you. It was a room change.¡± Kristos said as Alec cautiously swung open the door, stepping back in case something leapt out. ¡°Welcome to the Evening Room.¡± Alec poked his head past the threshold, taking in the extremely cozy Evening Room, a selection of padded armchairs, couches, hammocks, cushions and blankets arrayed around a roaring fireplace. Bookshelves aplenty, fully stocked to boot. And a samovar full of what he would soon find out was hot chocolate. ¡°Why-?¡± ¡°Noone knows. Maybe it¡¯s some kind of response time training, maybe it¡¯s just to cull the slower students.¡± Kristos grinned, ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s just to show off.¡± Alec took a deep breath as he absorbed that answer, ¡°I think I¡¯m starting to hate this place.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 14 - The Liches of Yesteryear Alec¡¯s lungs burned with the need for air. The young man fighting desperately against the hand on his chest. The slender limb like an iron rod for all he tried to move it, pinning him to the bottom of the bathtub as he stared up at the ceiling through the softly glowing water. Surely they had to let go? To let him snatch a breath? It felt like his lungs were on fire as he fought to hold out just a little longer until finally he could hold it in no longer. A mass of bubbles rose from his open mouth as he tried to breathe water. If he¡¯d thought it burned before he let out a breath, Alex realised he¡¯d been wrong. Before this he¡¯d had no idea what burning really felt like. He¡¯d heard Amara describe lava before, and that was probably the closest thing he could think of. It was as if his lungs were coated in something that was just searing away at his insides. The only consolation was that already the pain was starting to fade even as his struggles turned into genuine spasm and his vision tinted grey at the edges. Surely they had to let go? * Merida watched with quiet dispassion as Alec finally went limp in the bath of mana saturated water, the archmage¡¯s hand closing upon his shirt to wrench him out of the water as she hit him on the back, trying to help him cough up the water he¡¯d inhaled. It took the best part of a minute and the teenager looked downright wretched as he tried to get his breath back. When finally the hacking coughs stopped Alec managed to raise his head to glare at the archmage currently fussing over him. ¡°I thought I was going to die!¡± He growled out, surprised at just how rough his voice was. ¡°But you didn¡¯t.¡± Merida told him tartly, ¡°Now take a deep breath.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t be-¡± Alec began, before barely grabbing a lungful of air as the elf¡¯s surprisingly strong grip pushed him back down. The elf took a moment to take in the somewhat concerned looks she was getting from the three liches she¡¯d managed to recruit to keep the water fully saturated. They were all fairly young by lich standards, young enough she¡¯d been able to intimidate two of them into helping pro-bono. The trick to reading a lich¡¯s age was the eye-lights. Just having them was sign enough that they were fairly new to undeath. There was nothing about the process of becoming a lich that required they have glowing eye sockets but a lot of the undead master mages had them. As eerie as the light was, people found it less off-putting, as a general rule, than just empty sockets. A lot of liches personalized their eye lights. Be it colour, making them flicker like candleflames, or a dozen other minor variations that the undead community in the Necropolis thought either made them look good or more approachable. The modern style was to link the glow to their emotions, and right now all three¡¯s eyes were glowing so wide and bright it was like having six shocked searchlights directed at her. It was pathetic. The liches of her youth had been towering figures who would have happily half-drowned a dozen children without even thinking it worthy of remark if that was what was required. Or perhaps they hadn¡¯t been. Perhaps it was just that she¡¯d been young and they¡¯d been in a war for their very survival at the time. Certainly she¡¯d never gotten the chance to ask them. Whatever the case, the weakness from what was supposed to be the pinnacle of necromancer kind disgusted her more than she could put into words. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡± She told them curtly, even as Alec went into spasm for the second time. ¡°We need to realign all the mana receptors in his body, that includes the internal ones. Unless you want him unable to use magical healing without crippling himself?¡± ¡°Be that as it may Archmage. I cannot help but find this method unnecessarily hazardous and abrupt.¡± Arcturus declared. No title, no dread epithet, just Arcturus. It was a decision Merida could respect. Of the three, Arcturus had been the lucky find of the group. The lich was on the verge of entering what the undead tended to regard as maturity, which was to say his fourth century, and had transitioned to undeath with almost indecent haste because the trappings of mortality ¨C such as sleep, eating or other people ¨C had interfered with his research. There weren¡¯t many at the Necropolis who specialized in chaos, the mysterious psuedo-mana of the Hells was far more the purview of the Path of Summoning, but Arcturus was as close to an expert on the topic as the Necropolis had, and his particular interest, the spontaneous warping effect it had on both the living and undead alike, was particularly useful in Alec¡¯s case. Which was why when he had a suggestion to make, even the notoriously aloof Archmage of the Myriad Arts listened. ¡°What would you recommend?¡± She asked as she helped an increasingly dishevelled Alec cough up more water. ¡°Saturate the air instead. It would be a more gradual process but would put less strain on the subject¡¯s body and would reduce the need to treat it for mana poisoning. As things stand its body recognises its receptivity to chaos as its natural state and the required healing will likely undo most of the work done.¡± Arcturus stated, red eyelights a steady, calm glow. ¡°I see.¡± Merida groaned, pushing Alec back down before he could give a complaint, or worse an opinion. ¡°Sadly, whilst I concede the less than optimal methodology, it will have to suffice. Unless you know at least a dozen other liches who¡¯d be prepared to help, we haven¡¯t the mana to do it.¡± Arcturus considered that, ¡°I will make inquiries. Though I suspect I will be frustrated upon the matter. Were I less familiar with the circumstances I would fear you were attempting to create some sort of abomination loyal to you.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. That certainly got a raised eyebrow from the venerable elf, Merida almost forgetting to yank Alec out of the water in time. ¡°Explain.¡± ¡°The subject is in peak physical health for its age, and has already undergone a measure of combat training according to its file.¡± Arcturus said evenly, ¡°It¡¯s pool of magicka is unnaturally large for its age, likely what drew the Archmage of Entropy to train it in the first place, and will only grow larger with the constant friction caused by its bond with the dryad. This treatment will also increase its magical strength. If I did not already know you accepted no challenges to your authority I would suspect you of grooming an archmage.¡± ¡°St-stop-¡± Alec managed to gasp out, drawing Merida¡¯s ire away from Arcturus for a few seconds. ¡°Please just give me a-¡± With a sigh Merida pushed him back down. Not that she blamed the boy, while it was very much in his best interests, at least if he still wanted to be a mage once the hour was up, there was no denying that this was literal torture. To the point that she had in the past used it to torture people. With Alec safely rendered mute once more she turned her attention back to Arcturus. ¡°Tell me Arcturus, does it provide you some strange joy to call the boy it? To deny him personhood?¡± ¡°Given the risk inherent in both administering the treatment and in its aftermath, I find no need to get attached to the subject. At best it would merely impair my judgement, at worst it would lead to anguish at it...¡± He paused as he realized Merida¡¯s disappointed scowl was only deepening, ¡°his likely death.¡± The Archmage shook her head. She had not reckoned that the Necropolis¡¯ foremost expert on demons would be so weak. ¡°Attachment is not weakness. Prioritizing attachment is weakness.¡± ¡°And yet in my experience one almost inevitably leads to the other, archmage.¡± Arcturus riposted as deferentially as he could manage. Merida sighed, pulling Alec up to allow him another breath. This was, it seemed, going to be a long hour for both of them. * Whatever Alec was doing, he surely had to be having more fun than she was, Holly mused as she very slowly went through the combat drill she¡¯d been shown for what felt like the umpteenth time. Combat drill was overselling it in truth. It was a single parry and thrust with a staff, and by this point her arms felt like they¡¯d been filled with lead. The rest of the advanced students were working in pairs, apart from Brin who was sparring with the teacher. Master Vortigern Vee was a rather intimidating figure. Unlike most of the Necropolis¡¯ senior staff he¡¯d eschewed the traditional black robe for the thick boiled leather of some sort of beast (still black naturally) and the glossy finish made him appear strangely insectile. Something only further advanced by his bald head, through which, in several spots, his skull was visible. The day had started surprisingly well. They¡¯d taken an early night the day before and arrived at breakfast before everyone else, which had allowed them to claim the comfiest seats. Of the ones designed to seat a human of course. Breakfast had been a little awkward. Anesh and Kristos had still wanted to know a lot more about Erebus than either of them felt safe disclosing, and Alicia¡¯s four way death glare had done little to dampen things. She really had to find out why the most senior student hated them so. Right now she honestly didn¡¯t even have a theory and, given she was the paranoid of the pair, she didn¡¯t need access to Alec¡¯s thoughts to know he didn¡¯t either. Brin had been¡­ honestly she was trying to think of a complaint for the amiable ogre but it was hard to come up with anything. The lumbering monster had been nothing but friendly and kind, universally so in fact and as for Hope¡­ that was where she rather needed Alec. The teenager was much better at reading arachni than she was. That was another thing she was noticing a lot now the bond was back to just thin enough to live on, just how much she¡¯d relying upon Alec¡¯s abilities to fill the gap when necessary. Back to being thin was too kind really, even when it was freshly forged it hadn¡¯t been this tenuous or frayed. Once breakfast had finished they¡¯d gone to read their new schedules. Already a full week of classes planned out for all of them. For today Alec had Mana Realignment followed by Basic Reanimation, lunch, an hour of what had been just called Library Time followed by Basic Magic Combat and Undead of Reath whatever that was. Her own schedule was almost identical, just with Remedial Physical Combat substituting Mana Realignment. That continued on through the week, with a lot of basic this and remedial that on the schedule, in fact the only exception was ¡®Advanced Physical Combat¡¯ on Alec¡¯s timetable, which stung just a little bit. Then they¡¯d been split up, Merida retrieving Alec at the door with typical abrupt style as she more or less grabbed him by the shoulder and began frogmarching him away before he could even get a word in. That had left Holly alone with her fellow students, wincing in discomfort as the already weak bond grew weaker still from the increasing distance. At least at first. About a minute later the pain had vanished as if Alec were back in the room with her. Something that was far more alarming than relieving really. If Von Mori, or as a last resort Erebus, had done it, Holly would have welcomed it, and thanked her lucky stars in the process, but the thought of the elven archmage¡¯s grubby fingers on their combined soul didn¡¯t just send a shiver down her spine but had it doing laps. Remedial Physical Combat had begun with her lining up with the other students to wait for the teacher to arrive. Given her previous experience with powerful mages, she¡¯d expected a flamboyant entrance, bursting through the door by kicking it off its hinges, riding in on a pillar of fire, all was possible. So when he¡¯d just walked in to stand opposite them she couldn¡¯t quite help feeling let down. ¡°Ah, wonderful. You would be the new student. Holly of Von Mori?¡± The ghoul asked as he dropped to his knees with an audible creak, the other students doing likewise and Holly, after a somewhat startled nod, following their lead. ¡°Good. You may address me as Master Vortigern when we are within this room, outside of that, address me as you will. ¡°I will confess I am not entirely sure how to train you. For all you are a spirit of nature, you are not a product of it. Your instincts may be entirely wrong, your reflexes likely non-existent. But I will do my best to teach you how to transform your body into a weapon. That is my promise to you. In return your promise to me is far more simple, and I fear to say far more taxing. ¡°Promise to try. Every day, just try. And together we will find out what works for you.¡± It was official. She¡¯d known Vortigern Vee for just over a minute and already he was easily the best teacher she¡¯d ever had. Not the sink-or-swim methods of Von Mori, not the ¡®pressure makes diamonds¡¯ methods of Erebus and his gaggle of colleagues. And certainly not the ¡®pain is the best teacher¡¯ madness of Merida. That impression lasted about ten minutes, just long enough for her arms to start to burn with pain from the repeated movements. He¡¯d at least explained why she was spending her morning doing a single motion, taking her aside once everyone had begun their sparring to tell her in a low growl, ¡°The problem is noone¡¯s ever taught a dryad how to fight using their body, or if they did then they certainly left no surviving records. I checked.¡± The old ghoul gave her a leather-lipped smile. ¡°It would be easy to just assume you can train like anyone else. But it would be a foolish assumption. For all you look human, you are not. There may be things I regard as totally normal you are incapable of doing, and there may be things your body can do that I would find impossible. It is my privilege to devise a training program for you.¡± He bowed low, almost painfully sincere, ¡°First I must know if you can build reflexes like a human can. Develop muscle memory. Or whether your body is solely at the whim of your conscious mind like a revenant.¡± That said he¡¯d guided her through the rather simple movement and told her to keep repeating it until he said otherwise, before hurrying to spar with Brin, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Damn but she was lonely. Oathmaker - Chapter 15 - Ogres Have Layers Dryads couldn¡¯t sweat. Holly had been pretty sure of that before class, but by the end of it she¡¯d been beyond certain. Neither it turned out could arachni, but everyone else once the hour was up were literally wringing out their clothes and Brin had an actual puddle forming around him as the somewhat dishevelled ogre took deep gulps from the largest hipflask Holly had ever seen. Vortigern looked at all of them with genuine pride as they lined up in front of him, ¡°Very well done all of you. And particularly to you Holly, I¡¯m aware how tedious today was for you and your perseverance was commendable. As to the rest of you, tomorrow will be a departure from our usual classes. The Bonemason¡¯s Guild has a new design they want tested, so I expect you to take apart whatever haphazard abomination those idiots have cobbled together, understood?¡± The gathered students chorused their agreement, though Holly couldn¡¯t help noting the somewhat doubtful expressions on Kristos and Anesh. ¡°Good. Class dismissed.¡± Master Vee declared, bowing to them and having that bow returned. As Holly emerged back into the corridor she realised she had a problem. That wasn¡¯t technically true, she¡¯d realised it from the moment she¡¯d seen their lesson schedule, now though it was imminent. She had absolutely no idea where to go for Basic Reanimation, or any of the classes really, more or less getting lucky with the presumption that the combat classes would be held either together or at least in proximity. Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test, or even form of hazing, that they put the new students through. A darker, and more pessimistic, side suggested that the complete lack of a map of some sort was a genuine oversight. The question was how was she supposed to find out where her next lesson was? Normally she¡¯d consult Alec but the bond was just too frail and frankly raw to handle an input as complex as thought. She could wander around she supposed, and in fact wondered if that¡¯s what Merida had intended them to do with their free time the previous day. Or, it occurred to her belatedly as she stared at her fellow students¡¯ retreating backs, she could just ask someone. ¡°Guys wait up!¡± Holly yelled as she broke into a jog to catch them before they could all go their separate ways (presuming their next class was not also shared). Everyone stopped in their tracks bar Alicia, who, if anything, increased her pace, determined to get out of the potential blast radius of whatever Holly planned on saying. It was Kristos, naturally, who pulled the pin. ¡°What do you need Holly?¡± ¡°It¡¯s silly really¡­¡± The dryad withering a little under their attention. ¡°I don¡¯t know where my next classroom is.¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t given a tour?¡± Anesh blurted. ¡°The closest thing I got to a tour was when you showed us where the common room was.¡± Anesh winced, ¡°Well crap. What class do you have?¡± ¡°Basic Reanimation.¡± Holly admitted, trying to ignore the embarrassment as she did so. Fortunately for her ego her fellow students didn¡¯t snipe at her paltry necromantic knowledge. At least not overtly. ¡°Basic Reanimation¡­¡± Kristos murmured, ¡°I know where the regular students have to take it, but there¡¯s more chance of the Winter Court leaving a grudge uncollected than of them putting you in with normal folk. Anyone got any ideas?¡± ¡°Never took it.¡± Anesh shrugged, ¡°But it¡¯s got to be one of the reanimation labs. Anyone got a reanimation class next?¡± ¡°Library time for me.¡± Hope said, the giant spider crossing her forelimbs in a surprisingly expressive no. ¡°I think Alicia does...¡± Kristos sighed, gesturing to the empty corridor ahead of them. ¡°Brin has lab time to work on his scrimshaw.¡± The ogre offered. ¡°Won¡¯t be same lab, but close. And noone checks on Brin.¡± ¡°A plan with no drawbacks. Not that ol¡¯ Morty¡¯s likely to give you a hard time for being late, but first impressions and all that.¡± The faeblood drawled, ¡°And none of us get punished either. Always a bonus.¡± Which was how Holly found herself walking, or scurrying given the difference in stride, alongside Brin. The young dryad doing her best to keep tracks of the twists and turns they were taking, and fairly sure they¡¯d doubled back on themselves twice. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°This place is a damned maze.¡± She grumbled, as her memory finally failed her. ¡°No. Holly just thinks it¡¯s a maze so Holly sees maze. People think Necropolis dark see dark.¡± Brin rumbled. ¡°Was same for Brin. It why Necropolis work hard on bad reputation. People who think Necropolis home, see home. Just takes time.¡± The dryad scowled, ¡°So what do you see then?¡± ¡°Nice straight path.¡± Brin grinned, reaching out to ruffle Holly¡¯s red and waxy hair with a meaty hand. ¡°It a good trick. Hard to learn.¡± ¡°Why would anyone even put a spell like that in place?¡± Holly spluttered, figures twisting with annoyance and bemusement. ¡°Home advantage.¡± The ogre said sagely. ¡°It hard to make spell that can spot enemy. So let enemy spot themself. Can be done, but once lots of people becomes too hard to keep track of who who.¡± Holly took that in, ¡°Surely that can go wrong though? Like what if the scary ambience just makes me more scared, leading to even scarier ambience?¡± That stumped Brin for a little bit, the ogre¡¯s brow scrunching in comically exaggerated thought before enlightenment graced him. ¡°Then Holly should not be necromancer.¡± ¡°Just like that huh?¡± Holly said bitterly, ¡°Can¡¯t handle it, don¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°Is not bad. Lots of people not necromancers. Doesn¡¯t make them bad people. Lots of mages not necromancers. Doesn¡¯t make them bad at magic.¡± ¡°Why do you talk like that?¡± Holly asked softly, the question had been on her mind almost from the moment she¡¯d met Brin. And now they were alone it gave her a chance to broach the subject. ¡°You¡¯re obviously smart so why¡­?¡± ¡°Talk like idiot?¡± Brin offered gently. ¡°Ogre not good at talk. Talk hurts. Not made for it.¡± ¡°Made for it¡­?¡± Holly trailed off as her mind ran through the implications. ¡°Alicia wrong. Brin have secret. All ogre have secret. Only tell Holly cause Holly already know big bit.¡± ¡°Hang on. I don¡¯t know anything about ogres.¡± Holly protested, worried one of those deadly secrets Alicia had been so scared of was about to be dropped in her lap. ¡°Big secret of ogres only half about ogres. Half about gods. That they exist.¡± Brin smiled, ¡°See. Holly not surprised. Brin was right.¡± ¡°How on Reath did you know...¡± ¡°Was simple. Erebus broke aetheric chain. Holly travel with Erebus.¡± The ogre explained cheerily. ¡°Also demon god kinda big clue gods exist.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t actually travel with Erebus when he went to break the chain.¡± Holly admitted, ¡°And in the battle¡­ I think the word god was only used once.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ Brin got lucky then.¡± The ogre sighed, covering his face in embarrassment. ¡°Should know better. Assumptions. Stupid Brin.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t do the whole sage advice thing very well¡­ but you¡¯re being a bit hard on yourself. Anyway, you wanted to tell me something because I know gods exist?¡± ¡°Yeah. Gods made ogres. But when they made us¡­ we couldn¡¯t talk.¡± Brin¡¯s face scrunched up with pain as he forced himself to say it all, leaving no ambiguity by dropping words or choosing something that was just close enough to what he want wanted. ¡°We could grunt, that was about it. Our hands were too clumsy for all but the most basic sign language. And we were magically primed to believe whatever we were told. But we could think and we could understand. We were fodder essentially, made to be the perfect soldiers. Easy to manipulate and hard to kill.¡± ¡°But you can talk now?¡± Holly questioned, taking aim at the obvious flaw in what Brin was saying. ¡°It took generations of careful breeding to get ogres that could produce the sounds needed for the common tongue. Which was about as unethical as Holly can imag-¡± Brin broke off coughing, bloody spittle on his hand, ¡°imagine.¡± He ground out, forcing himself to finish while wiping the blood awkwardly on his shirt. ¡°Ditto the hands.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ I mean¡­ I¡¯m glad you felt it safe to tell me all that. But I can¡¯t help wondering why?¡± ¡°We...¡± Brin tried, but this time the coughing was just too much, thick, crimson blood starting to leak from between his lips. Reluctantly the ogre shook his head, not-quite-crying with frustration as he managed two more words. ¡°Another time.¡± ¡°Okay. Take all the time you need Brin.¡± Holly said softly, patting the ogre on the arm. Brin nodded, taking a deep breath and just like that the vision of jovial calm the ogre tried to exude was back. The walk to the reanimation labs after that was a short one, made all the easier by the obvious signpost that had been left to mark the Basic Reanimation lab. ¡°Holly!¡± Alec yelled as she came into view, the teenager slowing his charge enough that the hug didn¡¯t bowl her to the floor. ¡°I was starting to get worried!¡± The teenager honestly looked awful. His hair still damp for all that his clothes were dry, and his face had been outright haunted and pallid in the moments before he¡¯d spotted her. ¡°What in the Hells happened to you?¡± She demanded, once she¡¯d successfully pried her host off of her. ¡°My treatment was a bit more¡­ intense than I was expecting.¡± Alec replied sheepishly. ¡°So not just sitting in a bath for an hour then.¡± Holly concluded. ¡°Well I did spend an hour in a bath¡­ I¡¯ll tell you later. Probably.¡± Her host said with as much cheer as he could force. ¡°When you¡¯re ready.¡± Holly agreed before turning to Brin, ¡°Thanks for guiding me¡­ and for trusting me. Is it okay if I share any of it with Alec? In private I mean?¡± Brin opened his mouth to speak, but just as quickly closed it, rubbing at his throat. Instead he gave Holly a single nod before giving her a companionable pat on the shoulder that left her staggering as he ambled off to get to his own class. ¡°What was that about?¡± Alec inquired once Brin had gone into his lab. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later.¡± Holly assured him, ¡°For now we¡¯ve got a lesson to attend.¡± Alec nodded slowly, trepidation slowing his steps towards the door. Fingers white at the twisted the handle. ¡°Time to finally learn necromancy.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 16 - Basic Reanimation For Dummies The Basic Reanimation lab turned out to be one of those rooms that was a lot bigger on the inside than the outside. Not that either Holly or Alec were particularly surprised by this point. The Necropolis, despite the literal city that had built up around it, seemed to contain a city in its own right. Though how new rooms were added neither of them could even begin to fathom. Up to now they¡¯d only been in one mage¡¯s lab, Healer Evans, the insane and illegal time mage of Forsaken Valda. The Reanimation Lab was a lot sparser. No vials of glowing mystery goo. No summoning circle in an iron cage. No cabinet filled with what were essentially targetted death curses. What there was was bones. Lots and lots of bones, many too big or small to have come from a human being, and all neatly stacked in piles, bundles and buckets, cabinets, chests and drawers. What Alec could have mistaken for anatomical models adorned the walls, if it weren¡¯t for the way the skulls turned to follow them as they walked to the front of the class. ¡°Good morning class.¡± What was presumably the teacher said, taking a deep swig from his hip flask as they took the two seats left out for them behind a time worn and thoroughly weathered wooden desk,. A greying, sparsely haired man stood in front of three objects covered in tarpaulin.¡°Archmage Merida informs me you are both currently unable to practice magic. I can honestly say it¡¯s the most joyful news I¡¯ve had in the nearly ten years of I¡¯ve been teaching.¡± The balding man gave them a beaming smile, enthused beyond decency. ¡°I am Alchemist Mortimer. And for the first time in my career I can genuinely say I¡¯m pleased to see you both. Because for the first time, I am able to guarantee we¡¯ll have properly covered the safety protocols for handling undead before one of you goes and does something reckless.¡± ¡®He clearly doesn¡¯t know us at all.¡¯ Alec mused, sending the errant thought at Holly out of habit before he could realise his mistake. Irritation filled him at the foolish mistake, only to subside as Holly chuckled anyway. It was nice to know that even if they couldn¡¯t share thoughts, they might as well be. ¡°Now I like to kick off everyone¡¯s first lesson off by showing them the absolute upper limits of what Basic Reanimation can do.¡± Mortimer declared, grabbing a tarpaulin and pulling it off of its occupant. It was just a skeleton. Almost identical to the hundreds Alec had helped cut down at Valda, and Mort had to see on his face just how unimpressed the fledgling mage was. ¡°Yes I know, I know. The humble skeleton. The workhorse of the Necropolis and all towns and villages under its aegis.¡± Mortimer smirked, ¡°But, as I¡¯ll be showing later, Randy here is a little bit on the special side. Before I demonstrate, can either of you tell me what is actually meant by Basic Reanimation?¡± Alec glanced over at Holly, who shook her head, before reluctantly raising a hand. Giving what he knew had to be the wrong answer. ¡°That it¡¯s easy?¡± ¡°Ha. No.¡± Mortimer scoffed. ¡°Well not entirely. Basic Reanimation is the art of reanimating a single body, and just the body.¡± He walked around Randy, smiling as he continued, ¡°Technically if I remove so much as a single finger Randy here ceases to be an example of Basic Reanimation. And if poorly constructed even that much would cause him to crumble into a pile of bones.¡± As he said it he snatched an entire hand off the skeleton and began walking to the other end of the lab. ¡°Or at least he would if he weren¡¯t also enchanted to do this.¡± With that he let go, the hand snapping sharply back into place with a loud click of bone on bone. ¡°Still not impressed I see.¡± The alchemist observed, ¡°But what about if I do this. Duck!¡± The duo had just enough time to cower behind the thick oak desks as Mortimer smoothly drew a wand and sent a pulse of something hot and orange at poor Randy. Moments later shards of ivory gravel peppered the walls. Tentatively Alec and Holly began to rise, only to duck back down as Mortimer barked, ¡°Not yet.¡± Just in time too as the bonemeal that had been Randy began to at first crawl and then shoot back to where the skeleton had been so brutally blown apart. The teens watching as their desk, with its many deeply embedded shards began to be dragged away from them until the pieces were able to pull themselves free. When the bonestorm had finally subsided, Alec cautiously peeked his head over the top of the desk, noting that it was not, as he¡¯d first assumed, worn away by time but apparently semi-regularly scoured by exploding skeletons. Sure enough Randy the Skeleton was stood right where they¡¯d last seen him, still stood to attention with the last of the visible damage fixing itself before their eyes. Holly could feel the way the mana in the room had sunk like a stone as the skeleton sealed its broken bones back together. The Necropolis had an unusually high amount of ambient mana normally, but right now there was barely enough for her to live on. Or rather for Alec to unconsciously refine into the magicka she needed to live on, the teen¡¯s substantial mana well starting to empty out at an alarming rate as the differential sucked his magicka out into the open air to diffuse back into mana. And while the teenager couldn¡¯t feel mana, he could certainly feel that. Turning alarmed eyes to Holly, ¡°I think we might need to leave sir.¡± He said, as he grabbed Holly by the wrist and prepared to almost drag her from the room at a full sprint. ¡°Nonsense. Just give it a second and¡­ there it is.¡± A pulse of mana, from beneath one of the other tarpaulins, spread through the room in a semi-visible wave of blue (at least to those with mana senses). With more than a hint of melodramatic flair, Mortimer crossed the room to grab the second tarp and pull free to reveal another relatively normal human skeleton, albeit yellowed heavily by time. There was a bit more adornment, a sword scabbard tied through the pelvis for example, and a few jewels drilled into the skull. ¡°Meet Captain Gates of the Bonemeal Blades. Forty-seven years ago, after an illustrious career, they kindly donated their body to the Necropolis and now is one of the major nodes for the very legion she served in life. You¡¯ll note the mana reservoirs in the skull. Captain Gates here is still an example of Basic Reanimation, combined with a slight bit enchantment and artificery, to allow him to act as a control node for a company of two hundred and fifty, effectively relaying orders instantly to the troops under his necromancer¡¯s command. ¡°The mana reservoirs allow him to keep the entire company operating for up to a day under light null suppression, and up to ten minutes under heavy suppression. Now I know that last part doesn¡¯t sound especially impressive but to provide heavy suppression fully armoured paladin knights would need to have gotten amongst them ¨C at which point they aren¡¯t going to survive ten minutes anyway. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Captain Gates is about as basic as a command node skeleton can get. There¡¯s no additional enchantments and he¡¯s only been programmed with the basics. Despite that it requires fewer manhours, and frankly less expertise, to animate the over two hundred bonemeal class skeletons under his command.¡± ¡°Bonemeal class sir?¡± Alec queried, raising a hand. ¡°The lowest class of skeleton. Made from people who¡¯s skeletons were in some way too damaged to be effectively animated, skeletons where serious mistakes were made in the animation process, those with degenerative bone conditions or those works done by apprentices. They¡¯re cheap to animate, and most importantly cheap to teleport, practically counting as inanimate objects. Though you¡¯ll see some of the bindings fail on arrival. ¡°And to preempt your next question, there are five classes of skeleton. Bonemeal, labourer, war, ivory guardian and Ossific Champion. Though only the first three count as Basic Reanimation. Captain Gates here would be the lower end of a war class skeleton. And this...¡± Mortimer indicated the final black tarp, much larger and taller than the others. ¡°Is an ossific champion.¡± The Ossific Champion could almost have been mistaken for an ogre at first glance, it had that sort of bulk and scale, though the skull was still distinctly human, almost comically small where it nestles between massive shoulders. It almost looked more like a mishapen statue than a skeleton, there were no gaps in the ribcage for example, thick overlapping bones plates covering every inch of the chest. The feet definitely hadn¡¯t come off of anything human. Thick taloned things, designed to dig deep into the ground where necessary. And the claws¡­ Alec was fairly sure the claws would be making semi-regular appearances in his nightmares. An impressive feat given the competition. They were long and serrated monstrosities, almost too long for the champion¡¯s already absurd frame and if they¡¯d once been bone, they certainly weren¡¯t anymore. Whatever metal encased them it was a deep, dark grey, barely glinting under the magelights of the lab. ¡°It has taken me nearly ten whole years to assemble Walter here.¡± Alchemist Mortimer said proudly, slapping the monstrosity on it¡¯s upper arm where he couldn¡¯t quite reach the shoulder. ¡°But when he finally passes his trials next week he¡¯ll finally be welcomed into the unhallowed ranks of the Ossific Champions. There are liches who¡¯ve been trying for centuries to get one of their creations into the vaults. ¡°Now come closer and let me show you some of the more interesting techniques you can get away with when working with a skeleton. Though Walter is most definitely not an example of Basic Reanimation, all the things I¡¯m about to highlight are things you can do to a standard war class skeleton.¡± Mortimer smiled broadly as he beckoned them over, rapping three times on Walter¡¯s ivory chestplate while he waited. The bony plates peeling open like the world¡¯s most morbid flower beneath the sun¡¯s rays. ¡°Behold...¡± He declared, running a finger along the runic scripts that had been revealed on the inside of the plates. ¡°Now I imagine you¡¯ve all seen enchanting before but this is one of the more basic tricks for hiding it, putting it on the inside. There aren¡¯t as many places you can hide spellscript on a normal skeleton, so most choose to just make it obvious. But if you¡¯re determined to leave a sting in the tail the traditional location is the skull. ¡°Just saw the top off and load the inside with whatever lethal nastiness takes your fancy, it¡¯s also why standard practice against even undead who¡¯s heads aren¡¯t integral to their structure is still to try and destroy it first. ¡°The other locations if you¡¯re feeling really smug are the thigh bones. Cut them open lengthways, siphon out the marrow, then cover the insides with spells. This does leave the skeleton a little bit underweight so it¡¯s advisable to fill the resulting hollow with something. Mercury used to be a favourite but has fallen out of fashion since it was discovered to be toxic, but you can still see it in some of the older skeletons. ¡°Walter¡¯s legs are filled with genuine dragonsblood as a mana reservoir, and a final screw you to whomsoever kills him. Don¡¯t ask how I got it. Now once you finish writing and filling the legs, you¡¯ll want to either use a high strength glue to reseal them, or go multidiscipline and have them actually healed. ¡°Now note the claws. I got really lucky with those. A bl¨¹tkind ransacked a large town and died in one of the alchemy labs. I was fortunate enough to be called upon to help with safe disposal and shutting down of the lab and managed to snag the claws before the body could be burnt. ¡°See the metal coating? That¡¯s one of the more modern methods, or more accurately a modern interpretation of an old one. In ye olden days, you¡¯d have to employ a master geomancer to try and evenly coat bone with metal, and frankly it was hit or miss. Either the coating was too patchy or so thick the skeleton struggled to move properly. Now though the alchemists have come up with this wonderful process called electroplating which¡­ well the details aren¡¯t important right now. ¡°The point is dear Walter here has a tungesten coating on his claws. I¡¯d like to have bartered for adamantium but I just wasn¡¯t able to acquire any. Still it should allow him to cross blades with just about anyone.¡± Alec nudged Holly with an elbow as Mortimer continue to wax lyrical upon his magnus opus. ¡°He sure likes to talk doesn¡¯t he?¡± The teenager observed, soto voce, before snapping back to paying attention as Mort raised his voice a little. ¡°If you look closely you¡¯ll see that the plates often tinged with colours you would not normally associate with bone. That¡¯s the alchemical treatments. I¡¯ve seen some skeletons so heavily treated with alacrity oil that they¡¯ve turned bright blue.¡± He shook his head in pity for the poor misguided fools, ¡°Don¡¯t follow in their footsteps. Subtlety will stand you in far grander stead than some one-trick wonder and if you pay attention in this class I promise you that you will be able to perform every technique I have highlighted today.¡± ¡°So how powerful actually is Walter?¡± Holly asked, not as wide-eyed as one might expect when faced with one of the pinnacles of the necromantic craft. ¡°Well I can¡¯t speak to Walter specifically, as he hasn¡¯t passed all his tests yet. But it¡¯s estimated any five Ossific Champions are sufficient to defeat a demon lord.¡± Mortimer told them proudly, lips pursing as he watched their faces fall. ¡°So¡­. How would they compare to Tza¡¯rahlitzek? Or Charigris?¡± Alec asked more bluntly. Mort¡¯s answer somewhat less than useless given how wide a gamut demon lords, or devils as they referred to themselves, ran. ¡°It¡¯s possible that if we deployed every single Champion, they could have defeated Charigris. But that¡¯s really not a fair standard. Events like that are beyond rare.¡± Mortimer said somewhat wretchedly, taking another hurried swig from his flask. ¡°We watched two happen inside a day.¡± Holly stated flatly. ¡°That¡¯s to miss the true purpose and beauty of the Ossific Champions.¡± Mort deflected hurriedly. ¡°Once they pass their trials, they have a spell sphere inserted into their chests containing a near complete encyclopedia of necromancy, our history and basic magecraft. They¡¯re the final contingency if the Necropolis falls. Able to act autonomously and rebuild from the ashes.¡± ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is they¡¯re a massively expensive weapon that you¡¯ll always be too scared to actually use?¡± Alec snapped. ¡°Well no¡­ it¡¯s quite clever really¡­¡± Mortimer actively frowning now as he realised he was losing control of his classroom. Which was particularly embarrassing given the class size. ¡°You see the lack of a soul allows them to hide really well from pretty much every magic other than necromancy which the Paladin Order refuses to use. ¡°Now I¡¯d like to talk you through the animation matrix but Archmage Merida has informed me that one of you is currently unable to sense mana, so to avoid having to repeat myself we will save that for another time. Instead we will start with the basic safety checks you should perform before beginning any project...¡± That said he opened a drawer and deposited two heavy leatherbound books in their arms. Alec looked down at the large tome, reading the title, ¡®Basic Reanimation ¨C Pitfalls and Post-Mortems¡¯. ¡°Let us begin with Chapter 1. Ethical Sourcing of Materials and the Dangers of Unwilling Projects.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 17 - Five Chessboards It was not often that undead despaired. When the long view was measured in centuries it was always possible to steer things in a more favourable direction, and if all else failed one could always just play dead. Very few could tell a living and unliving corpse apart by eye alone and enough patience could let the board reset itself as a person¡¯s misdeeds passed out of history. Head Gardener Ackeron was coming to the conclusion that he could no longer afford to take the long view. Hells above and below, tomorrow might even be looking too far. The lich was sat in his office, which to the shock of everyone to enter it did in fact exist. In fact most of his subordinates were shocked every single time, forced to leave most of their memories of the room at the door. Opposite him were five chessboards. The metaphor was crude. The positions approximate for how he felt the battle against whichever pair of unseen hands was going. The first board showed an even position. The two sides pawn structures locked, the position cramped with limited room for manoeuvring or advantage by either side. This was the paladin board, and sometimes Ackeron wondered if it should even be there, the peace being as enduring as it had proven. It was certainly the only board where he¡¯d shared a drink with the other pair of hands. High Paladin Gregor was, by most measures, a good man and a level head. Which was why it was almost with resentment that he plucked a couple of pawns from the paladin¡¯s side. The war against Von Mori really was taxing the Holy Paladin Order hard at a time they could ill afford to be taxed. The second board showed a position where Ackeron¡¯s pieces were in full control, with the enemy king protected by just a couple of pawns (one close to promotion on the eight rank) and a rook against nearly a full set of pieces. This was the Sidhe board, the residents of Avalon, and though the threat from those veritable nightmares were as good as solved it was the one board that Ackeron would likely never remove. The fae folk were just too tricksome, too conniving, which was why even when they were bound to borderline passivity on Reath the ancient lich kept the board there. To make sure he never forgot. Board three, for theatrical reasons, had red pieces opposite. A month ago it had been a defensive position in his favour, but now the centre was wide open. There was no stopping a demonic invasion at this point, and they were woefully unprepared. Worse their allies were unprepared. And as the final nail in the proverbial vampire¡¯s bachelor pad, so were their enemies. There was no real pair of hands behind the red pieces, the hells were too fractured in their leadership ¨C where there even was leadership. By all logic it should have been board three that scared him. It wasn¡¯t even close. Board five beckoned. Still he spared poor board four a glance. There was only one set of pieces. He was playing black, the reactor, the defensive player. This was the board of the unknown threat. It represented monsters beyond even immortal ken. Rogue gods. Rot-herylds. A plague of Warped. Things like Tza¡¯rahlitzek that could hit the board without warning, wiping away the work of centuries. Board four hadn¡¯t looked this bereft of pieces since the first day he¡¯d walked into this office as Head Gardener and set it up. And then, because he¡¯d put it off as long as he could, he turned his attention to board five. The other unknown board. More than anything in his life or unlife he hated board five. It had taken him a hundred years in the job, as well as some rambling notes from his predecessor, to notice there was a set of hands on the board that simply should not have been there. If they even were there. They didn¡¯t move often. And they struck at the Necropolis more oft than not. Or perhaps they didn¡¯t. Perhaps there were other people just like him, quietly despairing as those unseen hands struck again and again and they couldn¡¯t prove a thing. The fort at Eredich. The decay of the Ossific Champions 3rd Company. Merida¡¯s second apprentice. His own predecessor, the late Silent Zara. All just too unlikely to be chance. Perfect confluences of bad luck. Just two pieces on the board. King vs king. Zara¡¯s final journal had been manic, almost fevered. That she¡¯d worked it all out. That she was ready to face ¡®the nameless man who covets the world¡¯. That had been the journal at its most coherent. He¡¯d dismissed it completely at the time. That Zara had finally cracked under the pressure. There wasn¡¯t any other explanation for her teleporting herself alone into an elder dragon¡¯s lair and challenging them to a duel. To Zara¡¯s credit she¡¯d done well. Five whole seconds against one of the original dragons was very close to breaking the record. His first clue that she hadn¡¯t been mad should have been when some of her journals, the ones with the ravings in, had been misfiled and consequently burnt. Alas his paranoia hadn¡¯t been properly developed in his youth. Such a strange thing youth, at least for a necromancer, at forty he¡¯d thought the apprentices young, at a hundred the journeymages, then the masters. He wondered how the real ancient monsters of Reath saw him. An uppity child? A promising youth? A fly to be swatted? Unlike Zara he¡¯d eschewed journals. The only nod to the existence of what he¡¯d taken to thinking of as ¡®the unknown player¡¯ was the fifth chess board and often he feared even that was too much. Ackeron knew he¡¯d grown in his time as Head Gardener, but in his head Silent Zara remained a towering existence. An archmage in all but name, for the sake of Merida¡¯s volatile ego. One of the few necromancers to make the transition into lichdom and keep their life in the process. Compared to that, even after all this time, he felt paltry. He felt wea- ¡°My lord¡­?¡± Ackeron nearly incinerated the source of that quiet voice, and the hand gently shaking his shoulder. Slowly the leathery lich turned his empty sockets upon the young woman before recognition dawned upon him. Gabriella Erezel, his adjutant,¡¯s eyes were wide with fear. She knew just how close he¡¯d come to killing her out of reflex. ¡°How long was I out of it?¡± He asked slowly, voice a tired rasp. ¡°Three hours I think. At least that¡¯s the last time someone checked on you.¡± She told him, placing a sheath of reports on his desk. ¡°That¡¯s this evening¡¯s reports and there¡¯s four I have to give you verbally and one through hand sign¡­ or I can just save you the reading and tell you the written ones.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll read them later.¡± Ackeron sighed, rubbing at eyes that had been missing for centuries. ¡°...I think it¡¯s time I retired.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say it like that sir. You¡¯ll outlive all of us I¡¯m sure¡­ well you know what I mean.¡± ¡°I feel old.¡± The lich said simply, ¡°I don¡¯t know how Merida keeps going. Well let¡¯s hear it.¡± ¡°Do you want the good news or the bad news first?¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Good news please.¡± Ackeron requested, and waited, and waited. The problem with necromancers, at least the problem that noone ever talked about, at least in the lich¡¯s opinion, was that each and every one thought they were are a comedian. Worse, they all seemed to be the same comedian. ¡°And the bad news?¡± ¡°Okay, starting with the small stuff. Recruitment is down across the board and rejection of fresh bodies is up to almost fifteen percent and expected to rise to twenty percent over the next decade.¡± If Ackeron had been alive he¡¯d probably have gulped. This was going to be a rough report if the eventual existential failure of the Necropolis was the small stuff. The problem was that they had, in some ways, done too good of a job. With life expectancy up all over Council of Mages territory, far too many people were surviving deep into old age, bones weakening. With no dire, and persistent, threats to peace not enough people were even becoming necromancers. By all the dead gods but he couldn¡¯t be expected to fight a war with nothing but bonemeal class undead! If things continued on their current trajectory they¡¯d be forced to fold bonemeal class into labour and bump labour up to war. Possibly even put a hold on Ossific Champions entirely. Despite Alec and Holly¡¯s disdain for the pinnacle of non-sapient necromancy, they filled a vital role in emergencies. And it wasn¡¯t fighting demon lords and similar. It was fighting the demons that came with them. Three Ossific Champions could hold a hellrift until the end of time so long as no demon lords turned up. Besides the Necropolis had weapons for killing demon lords. They were called Ackeron and Merida, amongst a dozen or so other names. ¡°Okay. What¡¯s the next piece of news?¡± ¡°It¡¯s looking like a full blown civil war between the pyromancy cults. Vulcanus is currently besieged and hard pressed, some of the cults have even brought their elementals.¡± ¡°That¡¯s madness.¡± The ancient lich hissed, ¡°What on Reath are they thinking?¡± ¡°I imagine it¡¯s the elementals¡¯ ideas. When your object of worship says jump, you jump. Maybe some of them are looking to follow in Charigris¡¯ footsteps, maybe some are outraged at Vulcanus¡¯ failure to protect them. Some likely both.¡± Gabriella shrugged, ¡°Either way Vulcanus is in trouble.¡± The lich rubbed at his empty eye sockets, going through the motions of the exhaustion he could no longer physically feel. Dead pyromancers was never a good thing. The fire mages were the most martial of the major magical arts, for all that fire had uses beyond killing it was the most obvious one and huge swathes of the Council of Mages response teams, town guardians and so on were composed of them. Not to mention the elemental cults themselves, as a general rule, tended to keep their area of the world fairly safe. Officially Vulcanus lacked an elemental, its neutrality the reason it had been chosen as the ancestral home of pyromancy. A polite fiction. The truth was that Vulcanus simply had the most powerful elemental of them all. Qrilotesh, a volcano elemental dating all the way back to the time of the gods, had a fondness for humanity. Or rather she had a fondness for new experiences, sharing her power with a rare few in exchange for getting to share some of their perspective. Some elementals never took a Chosen, the idea too alien, too strange. Some only ever took one in their entire lives. Most settled for a single person to speak for them and be their agent in the world. Qrilotesh fell into the rarest category. Taking multiple chosen at a time and demanding little in return beyond that they try to enjoy life to the fullest. Something about the situation nagged at Ackeron, though he couldn¡¯t place his finger upon it. ¡°As much of an ally as Vulcanus has been, we cannot afford to be seen siding with them by their successor if they fall. What¡¯s the next problem?¡± The Head Gardener asked as he scratched a couple notes down. ¡°The Umbral Temple has reached out to us to see if we want to help with the foundation of a new anti-memetics division to combat, and I quote, ¡®a long overlooked and unforeseen hole in our security¡¯. They plan to put the proposal before the Council next week.¡± This time Ackeron actually swore. ¡°How?! They were doing well! I was getting weekly reports from¡­ from¡­ Crap.¡± The lich breaking off as he sought a name and came up blank. On any other topic he¡¯d already be summoning weapons to himself, calling upon oaths and favours to do battle with whatever entity had managed to worm its way into the veritable fortress that was his mind because anyone who could manipulate a lich¡¯s memory was the sort of foe the survivors told stories about afterwards. Stories were not told about anti-memes. There wasn¡¯t really much point. The creatures, in what Ackeron was mostly sure were many shapes and guises, could eat information itself. Noone had tampered with his mind, the reason he could not recall the name of whichever poor soul had been his liason to the old anti-memetics division?¡­ contingent?.. department? was that it simply didn¡¯t exist any more. They¡¯d be able to figure some of it out from gaps in the records, equipment that was missing, farms and mines that had underproduced for no apparent reason. Sometimes it was just thievery, sometimes it was poor record keeping. But sometimes it meant those materials had fallen into the waiting maw of an anti-meme. To Ackeron¡¯s knowledge he¡¯d only ever faced three, and only one of the encounters could he even remember, the other two reconstructed off of gaps in memory and notes he didn¡¯t remember writing. Notes too could fail. The Whispering Archive was proof of that, if one knew where to look. It was called the Empty Shelf, for all it was stacked with books. Each one holding nary a word anymore. A monument to failure, or, going by what fragmented records survived, an insane attempt to restore the books knowledge with necromancy. The logic, as much as it could be called logic, went thus: A book with its words removed was a dead book. So surely if placed in a location with sufficiently large concentration of ambient necromancy they would become an undead book ¨C thus restoring the lost knowledge. Success had been¡­ about as high as expected really. Beyond an incident two hundred and fifty years ago where the blank copy of What I Did On My Holidays by Harry the Vicious had managed to tear out a librarian¡¯s throat, nothing had happened. The point was that anti-memes were bad news. Especially to organisations that depended on skills and knowledge that had been built up over century. The mere thought of an anti-meme actually getting into the Whispering Archive was a terror every bit as bone-chilling as something like Tza¡¯rahlitzek. Even something as weak as a tentacular dreadmaw, a hideous cross between a hyena, an octopus and a threshing machine, and one of the few that wasn¡¯t able to eat information about itself by virtue of being too dumb to know it was an information, could erase centuries of advancement in an evening¡¯s binge. And one had wiped out the organisation best prepared to fight them, and done it so fast they¡¯d apparently been unable to escape or call for aid. Unless of course they had called for aid and that too had ended up erased from history. Maybe the Slayers of Death had had a leader once? Even without being redacted from reality, would anyone notice if ten of the notoriously granular and lone wolf Sable Shields vanished? But down that line of thought lay madness. What Ackeron had to do was decide how to deal with this latest catastrophe. ¡°How do you want to handle it?¡± Gabriella asked, fingers curling and uncurling nervously around the reports. ¡°Simple. We¡¯re going to do nothing.¡± The lich told her calmly. ¡°We are already overstretched and I would not have assigned anyone less than veteran to its predecessor. Whatever this is, we are not the people to fight it. Instead send an amendment to Gardener Natalya¡¯s orders, read her in on anti-memes and give her negotiation rights with the old monsters of Seruatis. Perhaps one of them will answer the call.¡± If Ackeron had still had a stomach it would have been threatening rebellion at the thought of begging their most ancient enemies for help. And it was begging, Ackeron had nothing to offer them beyond not seeking reprisals. ¡°Okay, final bit of bad news.¡± He ordered as he wrote a couple more notes to himself. ¡°We¡¯ve managed to determined one of the dragons slain fighting Tza¡¯rahlitzek. Golgoth the Radiant. His body however is missing and his hoard had already been removed. There was also no trace of his soul.¡± The last snippet was almost enough for Ackeron to try and break his desk using nought but his skull. ¡°One of us then.¡± The lich concluded, ¡°The other orders won¡¯t like it, but I will demand every senior necromancer and intelligent undead¡¯s actions over the last month are accounted for.¡± ¡°He might have fled as a ghost¡­?¡± Gabriella suggested, trying to throw her boss a lifeline. ¡°No. The ghost would have stayed to protect its hoard, and put up such a fight that little of it would have survived.¡± ¡°Then a rescue mission?¡± ¡°Again no. There would be no reason to keep it secret, hells I¡¯d have sponsored such a project personally. We have to assume malintent.¡± ¡°How do you want to handle it?¡± His aide asked, unlike Ackeron she hadn¡¯t written anything down. A skill the lich was grateful for. Written records were useful, but sometimes they could be a death sentence. ¡°Go to the library and inventory all the books on dracoliches, dragonbone, dragonblood, soul binding and wraith wrangling. Do it personally and do not consult with the librarians. If we¡¯re lucky our rogue will need to consult the books at some point.¡± Ackeron ordered. ¡°Very well.¡± Gabriella bowed low to him, ¡°If that is all then I shall take my leave, lord.¡± ¡°That is all.¡± Ackeron confirmed. It was only when she¡¯d left that he looked down at the message she¡¯d been signing to him as they spoke. The Elder Wraith wants to come home. Oathmaker - Chapter 18 - A Plan Unveiled If the Academy Vulcanus could be said to have a heart, it was the magma chamber lying deep beneath it where, officially, master pyromancers could go to meditate upon the nature of fire, emerging stronger for it. And all of that was true. Unofficially it was where those seeking to become Chosen of Qrilotesh performed the Rite of Empathy. Where, in a single moment of perfect unity, the two¡¯s thoughts and souls would merge, only to part changed by the experience. Qrilotesh with insight on the mortal condition and a pair of eyes she could watch from. The mortal with power and knowledge over fire and earth that they could not have obtained in a hundred lifetimes. Amara Sunwalker had not yet lived a hundred lifetimes, but the vampire was venerable nonetheless. Not ancient of days as many of the Necropolis¡¯ senior mages could claim, but by pyromancer standards she was old. More importantly she was powerful already. It was one of the reasons she¡¯d been permitted the Rite. Not because of her power, but because, in spite of it, she¡¯d never coveted power for power¡¯s sake. Her skills and strength came from a love of fire magic, no more and no less. That had admittedly been an impediment in its own way. Qrilotesh had no great love of pyromancy, she was pyromancy, and while her character was not without flaw ¨C despite what many of Vulcanus¡¯ senior leadership insisted (notably those who weren¡¯t Chosen) ¨C narcissism was not amongst them. Before she¡¯d been forced to flee Vulcanus, Amara had spent ten years in the chamber. One of the longest Rites on record, and to no success. In that time the vampire had acted as sage and guide to many a mage looking to improve, until three of her colleagues and a pair of hired assassins had tried to murder her in (ironically) cold blood. Intending likely to cover up the death by throwing her into the magma below. It would have been close to the perfect crime if it had worked. The temperature in the chamber was enough to have droplets of rock running down the walls, a single slip in concentration would have been enough to consign Amara to fiery oblivion. Doubly so from her vampiric nature. Vampires burned hot and burned fast. A fact Amara had exploited ruthlessly in her latest misadventure. Spells to stop ignition were as much child¡¯s play to a pyromancer as spells to accelerate it, and in the battle against the Cult of the Ardent Wildfyre (not to be confused with the Cult of the Argent Wildfyre, or the Cult of the Ardent Wyldfire) the vampire had burned her right hand to ashes to empower a spell that had burned through the retinue of Charigris¡¯ Speaker, incinerating wards and warriors alike, before duelling the speaker themselves. That had proven a near-fatal mistake. For all her prowess, for all her experience, the Speaker of a wildfire elemental had proven a foe beyond her. The man had been so stuffed full of magical fire that he¡¯d been flaking into ash in front of her. Fire magic could destroy many things, but even it could not burn to death fire magic. At least not normally. Her vampiric nature had allowed her to lend some of her unnatural hunger to her own mana, able to devour mana from others spells to fuel her own. It had been easily her deadliest technique. But it turned out that wildfire elementals knew hunger every bit as well as vampires. She¡¯d used it once, just once, only to have her own trump card thrown all too literally back in her face. If that had been all then perhaps her ego could have taken it. But it had been an article of faith that elementals were close to indestructible, their power immense, and Charigris had been, most likely, the second most powerful elemental Reath had ever seen with all his stolen power. So watching him die had been every bit as faith-shattering. That a friend had sacrificed themselves to do it even more so. After that, for all she¡¯d been orders of magnitude more dangerous than an elemental merely capable of reducing the continent to a barren, ash-strewn waste, Tza¡¯rahlitzek had been an anti-climax. For all her evil, for all her power, it hadn¡¯t felt personal. At least until Erebus died. She wouldn¡¯t have been able to explain it, but after all she¡¯d seen the enigmatic necromancer do it just hadn¡¯t occurred to her that he could lose. No matter how outmatched, outnumbered, outclassed somehow her former student had always managed to eke out a victory, and once again he had. But how pyrrhic and bitter a victory it had been. They¡¯d conspired afterwards, those few who knew, in the brief time they¡¯d had. Grappling with the same problems currently driving Ackeron to the point of madness. Reath lay undefended, even more than the Head Gardener had known. Thusly they¡¯d sworn never to reveal that Erebus wasn¡¯t just waiting in the Hells to swoop in and save the day, and they¡¯d sworn to grow strong enough that when the time came he wouldn¡¯t be needed to. And now, humbled, she sat in the magma chamber once more, the slowly regrowing stump of her hand cradled, malformed, in her lap as she tried to read Qrilotesh¡¯s thoughts and mood from the surface of the magma below. It wasn¡¯t easy. Especially given the running battle in the tunnels outside the chamber. A surprise attack shouldn¡¯t really have been possible. No geomancer could tunnel into Vulcanus unnoticed. Like most major magical institutions shadows were tightly controlled and mirrors were downright banned. Technically a direct point-to-point teleport was possibly at the moment, if only because weeks of bombardment had crippled most of the wards. But there was a reason that teleportation was seldom used out of obsessively cleaned and meticulously scheduled rooms. Most people refused to ever be teleported after witnessing their first telefrag. To teleport directly into Vulcanus would be an act of desperation. The cults risking their best mages on a roll of the dice. What she could sense in the tunnels was more of an army. She could guess how they¡¯d been smuggled in. While Vulcanus went so far as to search anyone hoping to enter the inner areas of the academy for mirrors, obsidian could be very reflective. It would not take much effort for one of the pyromancers working there, many of them from the elemental cults originally, to polish up one of the tunnels and escort in a hoard of soldiers. And therein lay the problem. The real reason that Vulcanus hadn¡¯t simply swept aside the opposition. Not the optics, not the morality, but that the ancient institution was no longer a united one. It wasn¡¯t so surprising that there were traitors present. For all that there were people who¡¯d worked for Vulcanus for decades who¡¯d broken faith, the truth was that the great bastion of pyromancy had failed them first. Had failed indisputably, and far too often fatally, to protect the weaker cults. Had been infested, subverted and blinded by a hostile power. And perhaps most damning of all, it had not been the Academy Vulcanus that had paid the price for that failure. Even Amara, who had committed dark deeds in her centuries of life, find her resolve wavering. Killing was relatively easy if a person was convinced they were in the right. It was much harder to raise a hand in violence when undeniably in the wrong. It was also a hell of a lot harder to tell friend from foe, and when Amara said some of the arguments she¡¯d had recently had been blazing that wasn¡¯t metaphor. The only good news was that the one thing all factions seemed to agree on was that Amara was a hero and, at least for now, above reproach. So that was the situation, a divided Vulcanus, an invasion force snuck into the tunnels and a conflicted vampire listening to the fighting as she tried to commune with a frustrated volcano. By the sounds of things, the battle had devolved into a melee, so many heat wards in close proximity meant they¡¯d melt the tunnel on top of each other before their spells did anything. There were a few surges of temperature, brief flashes of intense heat that told her someone was trying nonetheless to collapse the defensive magics with a lightning spell, the idiot. Part of her wanted so badly to just give up on the Rite and weigh in, to help her people out in their darkest hour. But how would she even know who to fight? Could she even kill them when they might well be right that Vulcanus couldn¡¯t be trusted to protect them anymore? Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. As the thoughts crossed her mind she felt it. That same feeling of helplessness, of indecision, guilt and impotence. Forced to watch not from lack of power but having so much of it it would be trying to cook a marshmallow in a blast furnace. It was important not to focus on the feeling, to just stay relaxed and let it slowly resonate. She¡¯d had too many near-misses with the Rite to panic or hurry. Just allowing her focus to stay on the fight she wanted so badly to stop, to seethe with frustration and ignore the sensation as two minds melded into one. Finally. * Of the many teachers of esoteric magics that Erebus had sought out over his long life, Weaver of New Tales, arachni, mage and habitual trouble-maker, had been the first, and of the many unusually powerful travelling companions he¡¯d picked up, practically by accident, she had also been the last.Oh and they¡¯d also been married. It was probably odd that that had been the least important aspect of their relationship. Not that the marriage had ever been consummated, or even could have been. Just a polite political fiction to allow Erebus to learn the rare variant of umbramancy that her Great Web practiced, and Weaver to start a years-long feud with Great Ariadne over her increasingly insular attitude to the world. Not that she hadn¡¯t understand her honoured ancestor¡¯s caution. Trapped in the Underreath, their survival assured only by the secrecy of the Great Web from the living shadows that hunted them. But understanding something was not the same as liking it. Weaver had never quite fit in in The Great Web Beneath, her almost rainbow carapace stood out too much and she was far too impulsive to ever be considered for scout training, and there really was no other way to explore the outside world. Thus her joy had been almost immeasurable when the outside world had decided to come to her instead. For all that she¡¯d been Erebus¡¯ teacher, it had been her asking most of the questions. Until, with the same abruptness the mage had entered her life, he¡¯d left, not returning for forty years. Not long by the metrics of necromancers. More than a lifetime for most arachni. Old age was a terrible way to die for the spiderfolk, and was one of the reasons cannibalism had still been actively practiced in the Great Web Beneath. It beat the alternative. As the spiderfolk aged they got steadily larger and larger, far beyond anything mere biology could hope to sustain, their magicka being used just to keep them alive. Except magicka was a limited resource. Even in a mana rich environment a body could only produce so much of it. As time dragged on an arachni would lose all capacity for spellcasting, every droplet of power needed just to keep them alive, breathing getting harder and harder, their carapace getting heavier and heavier, until at least they either suffocated or were crushed under their own weight. Weaver could already feel it, not the weight or suffocation, but something analogous to shortness of breath when casting, where mana that should be there simply wasn¡¯t. Diverted to keeping her alive. Likely she had decades left, easily the most powerful caster the Great Web Beneath had produced in generations, but she was no Ariadne. The last Ariadne, first scion of Ariadne, in an unbroken line back to the first curse, was the size of a small elephant, undead besides and could still have duelled Erebus¡¯ companions to a standstill. No, she was no Ariadne, and certainly no Erebus. Of the four conspirators that were Erebus¡¯ surviving companions, she knew she was the weakest. She was also the first to arrive in Seruatis as planned. It had been expected. There was no epiphany or power she knew to seek to grow stronger like Amara. No authority over her since her banishment like Natalya. And she hadn¡¯t been actively expelled from reality like Lana. Getting into Seruatis was borderline impossible for an arachni unaided. While most people could walk through the barrier with no worse than feeling depressed and nihilistic from the manaless air surrounding it, an arachni would be sucked dry. Which was why there¡¯d been a (not-very-)welcoming committee waiting for her. She hadn¡¯t recognised any of them beyond Ariadne and one of the gods that had fought Tza¡¯rahlitzek (Nemmy if she recalled correctly). Between them they¡¯d managed to put enough mana into the air that she¡¯d been able to cross the knee high wall that was all that poked through the ground of the grand apparatus beneath. The welcoming committee was seven strong, a man tattooed to such an extent that when he opened his mouth to speak she could see ink-scribed runes on his tongue, Nemmy and Ariadne, obviously, an olive skinned man with eyes that seemed to be made of pink, glittering smoke, a woman who¡¯s face was shrouded by a hood (not that that made a difference, darkness might as well be daylight to an experienced umbramancer) and an eyeless domino mask. How she was able to navigate Weaver couldn¡¯t even have guessed at. Of the remaining two one was a dryad, a conclusion she¡¯d only been able to reach from the resemblance to Holly. The roughness to the skin and the bark-like hue, though she had no idea what tree she¡¯d been spawned from. Now mushrooms, she could have given lectures on identifying mushrooms, but there really weren¡¯t many trees in the Underreath. Or more accurately, any. If Weaver were honest she was astonished by just how broad the variety of living things was on the surface, from the grass to the trees to the bugs to deer to the one griffin that had thought she¡¯d make an easy meal. It turned out griffin was very gamey and just a little acrid. In the Underreath what remained was highly specialised and highly predatory, except for the mushrooms ¨C which were only mostly predatory. The final person was a man in two parts, literally, his face split vertically down the middle, one half gaunt, unhealthily pale with bloodshot eye and scowling so deeply Weaver doubted he could smile if he wanted to, the other half dark skinned, plush cheeked and almost-smiling, somehow the expression just wouldn¡¯t quite take. The entity glaring up at her balefully from his wheelchair, the duality broken by the intensity in his eyes. ¡°This is your pawn?¡± He snapped out to Nemmy, ¡°I expected better from how you and the spider went on.¡± ¡°Even a pawn can do great things, especially when guided to the end of the board.¡± Nemmy replied with a smile, ¡°Thank you for coming Weaver of New Tales. Had I the strength to spare I would curse you mightily, but you will have to settle for my knowledge and guidance instead.¡± ¡°...Thank you? I think.¡± Weaver said tentatively. ¡°Do not thank me.¡± Nemmy said softly, ¡°My nature is not a kindly one, and my teachings run accordingly. Of your compatriots yours I fear shall be the harder role, certainly the loneliest.¡± ¡°I take it when you told us to visit here, it wasn¡¯t for tea and biscuits.¡± Weaver noted dryly, ¡°Just because I¡¯m an optimist doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m a child, lay it on me.¡± ¡°The fallen necromancer, yes everyone here knows, was an unparalleled weapon that Tza¡¯rahlitzek wielded expertly. Those that died in the final battle with her were all similar existences, even the thrice-blighted automata. Reath lies open and undefended.¡± Nemmy told her. ¡°I knew all that.¡± Weaver chuckled, ¡°Come on, skip the melodrama and get to the but.¡± ¡°Neither you, nor his other companions, alone can fill the gap his death left. And none of the remaining imperators are inclined to take an apprentice.¡± ¡°We checked.¡± The pink-eyed one interjected. ¡°However,¡± Nemmy continued as if nothing had been said. ¡°you were all his teachers. Each of you masters of part of his skillset, between you you cover pretty much everything he could do bar the entropomancy. And we can teach entropy magic.¡± ¡°So you want us to do what Erebus did and become a roving band of vigilantes?¡± ¡°Reductive.¡± Nemmy chided, ¡°It was never what he did. There have been hordes of heroes through the ages and the old monsters of this world have had all that time to master the art of killing them. It was how he did it. Think of how the battle against Charigris looked from the outside.¡± ¡°There wasn¡¯t really anyone watching to look.¡± Weaver pointed out. ¡°Precisely. People woke up one morning and a threat to every life on Contemnere was simply gone, and with the hero nowhere to be seen. That last bit is your role in this by the way. It was never that he was an avenging blade, it was that people never knew where he would strike or when. He didn¡¯t even strike that often, only a few times a year, if that. But each time a player that had lingered too long upon the board was plucked off it. What we need isn¡¯t a hero. No shining beacon of hope. What we need is a monster that other monsters are scared of.¡± ¡°I thought you gods were trapped here. How can you possibly know all that?¡± The giant spider protested, feeling a shiver run up her carapace. She did not like what she was hearing one jot. ¡°Where do you think monsters go when they get scared?¡± Nemmy laughed, ¡°It¡¯s where we fled to afterall. That lunatic almost doubled Seruatis¡¯ population over the three decades he was doing his rogue agent routine. The real irony it was the periods he disappeared for years that we got the most recruitment. Now that¡¯s fear.¡± ¡°Bring it back to what you need me for. Because I¡¯m still not seeing how this is not us just being a roving band of vigilantes.¡± Weaver snarked. Nemmy paused, turning to address Ariadne soto voce, ¡°Did he infect her with such insouciance or was it the other way around?¡± ¡°I fear the two met and the problem multiplied itself.¡± The undead behemoth tittered. Nemmy rolled his eyes, ¡°Well at least she¡¯ll be able to act the part. No we don¡¯t want a band of plucky heroes, we want the blasted necromancer back putting the fear of us into every destabilising influence on the continent.¡± ¡°First off I¡¯m a shadow mage, not a necromancer, so I don¡¯t see how you expect me to bring him back. And secondly, even if I were a necromancer, his soul is somewhere in the Hells, so I still wouldn¡¯t be able to do it.¡± ¡°Oh it¡¯s worse even than that.¡± Nemmy told her, ¡°I imagine by now his soul has collapsed entirely. No we don¡¯t want you to bring back the actual Erebus. An imposter works just as well. And will hopefully be easier to work with. Your magics will permit the others to hide in the ex-succubus¡¯ shadow. Hopefully she has maintained her ability to shapechange but if not an illusion will suffice while the three of you cover his magical aptitudes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ insane.¡± Weaver replied slowly, turning so her primary eyes were on the others who had come out to greet. ¡°Noone would ever buy it. You have to all know that right?¡± ¡°They will believe it.¡± The woman in the hood told her softly. ¡°For the same reason any con works. Because they want to.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 19 - Grandaunt Agathas Knitting Circle The Path of Summoning had a bad reputation. That might well have been the understatement of the century, even among the classic dark magics, demon summoning had a bad rep and deservedly so. The only reason an institution for regulated demon summoning had ever been considered a good idea was that unregulated demon summoning was the sort of threat that had seen entire cities burned down in the past. That was perhaps a bit unfair, the average demon was a threat, but so was the average mage or paladin and if demons were the only threat the hells had to offer then by, the diplomatic standards of Reath, demons would have been regarded as little worse than unruly neighbours. Sure ragos were bad tempered, and went on the occasional berserk murder spree, but they also made fine mercenaries. Sleeping with a succubus was little more than a form of suicide but they also made as fine a spy as could be found outside of a shapeshifter and charged far more reasonable rates. But for all that most demons were just people, the demon lords were another matter entirely. The best comparison Reath had were the Necropolis¡¯ liches. Ancient beings of fel power who could plan in centuries and who had survived all that time in an environment that started at deadly and escalated from there, and, while Reath could happily accommodate a large demon population with little worse than a two drink limit for rage demons, a nigh infinite supply of machiavellian manipulators with archmage grade powers was not something Reath was ready for when they were already having so much trouble dealing with their own immortal schemers There were demon lords on Reath. Most predated the Path of Summoning, usually after pacting with and killing some young talent with more ego than sense. Which was why the Path now existed. Demon summoners did not get along with each other but even they had been able to agree that not having to endure a city wiped off the map every few decades was worth a little cooperation. They were still a somewhat provisional part of the Council of Mages. Not out of any distaste for dark magic, the Necropolis and Umbral Temple were founding members and held in high regard besides, but out of youth. The tendency for any magical speciality to provide some form of rejuvenation, and the tendency for those in any given hierarchy to be those who had been there the longest, had led to a somewhat calcified ruling body. Youth was something to be suspicious of at best, and weighing in at a mere three centuries the Path of Summoning was regarded as youthful. Not an absolute child like the Aegis Borealis or the Institute of Nexomancy, but still not mature enough to be entrusted with their own decisions. Certainly the Path¡¯s senior leadership were regretting their decisions now. While helping a devil to Reath was not something they had been foolish enough to do up to now, debts were being called in and deals that they had regarded as almost unfairly favouring themselves were suddenly chokingly tight around their necks. Technically a deal with a demon was only binding upon the demon, though woe betide anyone fool enough to betray a devil of vengeance or similar, but all that changed, and deals became a lot more favourable to the summoner, if collateral were put up. And the collateral that demons preferred above all else were souls. For ages it had been standard practice for a demon summoner, in exchange for some quite spectacular borrowed powers, to leverage their soul against, as a totally non-random example, aiding an armed invasion of Reath when the demon lord was ready. It had been seen as a safe bet. With the Council of Mages and Holy Paladin Order finally burying the hatchet it seemed, no demon lord in their right mind would actually invade, and up to now the contracts had been used as little more than a show of factional denomination. Generations of summoners living and dying with nothing worse to show for it than mastery of hellfire, an extra few inches of height, or whatever else they¡¯d selected as payment. The trap hadn¡¯t even been a subtle one. That was the beauty of it. One day the bill would come due, and every single summoner was banking on the idea that, just like the summoners before them, it wouldn¡¯t be them paying. Still the debts had finally been called in, and The Path of Summoning found itself having to burn vital resources to fulfill their overlords¡¯ often conflicting demands. One of the more valuable resources they were having to burn were the cults they¡¯d built up throughout Reath. The small cells they¡¯d spread throughout much of Reath¡¯s population centres to further the Path¡¯s interests, a few operating on the open but most in secret. Ritual sacrifice was afterall frowned upon at best. Naturally most of the cults were kept secret, even most of the veteran summoners only knew of a few, and it wasn¡¯t unknown for a cult to contact the Path to declare an important objective completed, request additional resources or the death of their last qualified summoner only to discover that there wasn¡¯t even a record they existed. A rare few though had been deliberately lost. Committed acts too profane. Pacted with demons too deranged. Or, in just one case, been deemed too valuable for anyone to know it existed. Grandaunt Agatha¡¯s Knitting Circle was the greatest feat the Path of Summoning didn¡¯t know it had pulled off. Buried in the very heart of the Paladin Order, Agatha had led the cult for a hundred and fifty years of success. Crafted feats of demonology that would have made her the envy of her peers, even such beings could exist. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Unlike her other summoners Agatha had not handed her soul over to the first offer that piqued her interest. She¡¯d shopped around, compared prices, and above all else she¡¯d read the terms and conditions; and not liked what she¡¯d found. Because Agatha had always assumed the worst, and she fully intended to still be around when it was time to pay up. Her first contract to a power greater than her own, imps and lesser demons barely counted as summoning, had been for the knowledge of how to jump bodies at the low, low cost of her firstborn child upon their birth and her fertility afterwards. The avidus she¡¯d pacted with had damn near laughed itself to death when it had revealed that the art required a direct descendant, forcing her to give up her daughter for absolutely nothing. It hadn¡¯t been laughing when she¡¯d given birth to triplets, handing the firstborn over as soon as the umbilical had been cut. And it certainly hadn¡¯t been laughing when the demon lord of slaughter she¡¯d hired had parted its skull from its neck and more or less mulched the corpse for good measure to ensure that the knowledge of what she¡¯d done could not spread. She¡¯d done well for herself after that. Waiting a good sixteen years before pacting to a devil, and again tricking the hellspawn into a one-sided deal, this time simply defining until death as the death of her body in one of the subclauses and one suicide/ritual later walking free with a gratuitous amount of hellfire at her disposal. Rinse and repeat until news had spread and she¡¯d instead bargained to keep silent about how she¡¯d scammed beings thousands of years her senior in exchange for not being hunted down and butchered in the streets. Another bargain. It was then she¡¯d had the idea for Grandaunt Agatha¡¯s Knitting Circle. A cancer in the heart of their most ancient foe. There had, of course, been problems. For starters she¡¯d been in the body of a teenager at the time and given the masterstroke of her masterplan relied heavily on the sheer banality of her cult, being led by a youth would be incongruous enough to rouse suspicions. Not much, but it didn¡¯t take much to bring everything crashing down. On the other hand having close to fifty years to ensure a lot of descendants to bodyjack and to gather a coterie of mostly trusted allies was a hell of a boon. Having to give up magic for that entire time as she established a life and identity in New Pax was far less so. She¡¯d have called it torture if she hadn¡¯t been tortured and found it preferable. As interminable as those years had been, Agatha had endured and finally started up a knitting club of elderly demon summoners. There had been actual knitting involved. With all the effort they¡¯d gone to to set up the perfect front, they were going to commit to it no matter how boring they found it. At least until one joker had had the bright idea of trying to crochet a summoning circle complete with binding and to the shock and horror of everyone it had actually succeeded. Admittedly the circle had also instantly caught fire and they¡¯d had to contain a rogue imp before it could escape the building and expose decades of scheming, but still it had worked. And laid the foundation for even greater heights of success than even Agatha had planned for. A century, and several bodyjacked descendants later, and Agatha probably had the strongest demonic cult on Reath. And she had gotten greedy. It wasn¡¯t even a lot of greed, but after so long her network of demonic contacts was extensive and she¡¯d been careful to ensure that demons she pacted with were either happy with the outcome or at least unable to complain about it. She¡¯d gotten good at the habit of knowing which demons were soon to die, and they were usually desperate to pact for resources at favourable rates that Agatha was certain they¡¯d be too busy being dead for her to ever need to repay. So her shock when a lowly, down on her luck succubus had, instead of dying at the hands of the devil of flensing (a particularly vicious and sadistic breed of elevated wrath demon) that had ensnared her instead found herself under the employ of an imperator, Agatha had scarcely been able to believe her poor fortune. For the first time since she¡¯d begun this plot there was a metaphysical collar around her neck, and she liked it not at all. Especially when that same imperator had hit Reath like a meteorite. Making deals with demons was one thing. The idea of them actually winning was another entirely, to the point that if she ever met Erebus in person she¡¯d likely buy him a beer. Admittedly she¡¯d poison the beer given she was exactly the sort of threat the necromancer liked to combat, but it was the thought that counted. So when the succubus had offered a way to escape the deal, and cheaply at that, Agatha leapt at the opportunity. Sure summoning a demon as powerful as a succubus in New Pax was a risk that threatened to expose them, but that just meant she¡¯d have to be careful in sourcing the materials needed. In theory only the oldest members of her family, and the other founding families of the knitting club, were aware of the real family business. Young people tended to struggle keeping secrets, either too eager to show off their power or repulsed at what they uncovered, and a lot of effort had gone into keeping the secret from them. Which was why, when on the very night Agatha had determined the need for a virgin sacrifice, it had come as something of a blow when four of her current body¡¯s great-grandchildren eloped (two of them with each other), three joined the navy, a further two took up prostitution and one was arrested for bestiality. Normally she¡¯d have commended their initiative, while mercilessly searching for the source of the leak. As it was the only thing that stopped her hunting her family down out of spite was that not everyone had gotten the memo. Alexander¡¯s eyes were wide with fear as she approached the altar he¡¯d been tied to. Agatha had never rejoiced in cruelty and thus regretted how long it took her to cross the room, knife in hand. After this it really was time she moved down another generation, put a little bit of spring back into her step. The poor lad was trying to scream something through the gag as she fondly caressed his hair. It was a shame really, the rather bookish young man had been one of the rare few amongst her descendants that she actually liked and had been hoping to induct him into the knitting club in a few decades ¨C once life had ground him down just enough to make him bitter. A pity. Slowly she began the summoning chant. It was a complex one for a succubus but that was expected given the history of the demon in question, some of the syllables impossible for a human throat to form but magic bridged the gap. Finally, her somewhat ragged and raspy voice building to a crescendo, Agatha plunged the dagger down towards her (many times) great grandson¡¯s chest. The blow never landed. An adamantine grip fastened around the cult leader¡¯s wrist as Lana, former succubus and first and likely last devil of guardianship, arrived on Reath. Oathmaker - Chapter 20 - The Devil of Guardianship It had taken all of a day for Lana to get resummoned to Reath. At least by Reath time, the hells own clock being rather more malleable. The battle against Tza¡¯rahlitzek, her own master, had damn near killed her, and not just because she¡¯d been beheaded by the imperator. It was all about concept. Battles between devils and imperators, fae and gods, were seldom about mere power and force of arms. They were in many way literal battles of ideas. And in killing Erebus, Tza¡¯rahlitzek had broken Lana¡¯s. Guardianship. The desire to protect. When the imperator had backhanded the necromancer hard enough to shatter his skull, part of Lana had died with him. It was impossible to just be a devil, it had be a devil of something. Devils of slaughter, devils of intrigue, devils of just about anything. The only requirement was depth of understanding of the chosen aspect. It¡¯s why devils of slaughter, war and bladecraft were the most common, any rage demon that lived long enough would almost inevitably become one. But it was also why the easiest way to kill them was to simply be a master of the blade, to refute their concept so directly could kill a devil. Lana hadn¡¯t died when the man she¡¯d been ordered to bodyguard had been slain, but going by the gnawing ache in her chest it had a been close run thing. Certainly it would have been enough to kill her when she¡¯d first come to Reath but she¡¯d had a chance to grow out from under her master¡¯s eye, had a chance to think about what it meant to be a guardian away from Tza¡¯rahlitzek¡¯s guidance, and even more specifically to think about what it meant to guard someone like her beloved Erebus who cared not one whit whether he lived or died. It had, Lana had realised, been an impossible task from the very beginning and Tza¡¯rahlitzek had likely known it. So instead she¡¯d focused on defending the things that mattered to Erebus, his ideas, his principles, his friends; the things that were actually important to him. In the doing so she¡¯d survived her great failure. It hadn¡¯t been something her master had planned upon. Of that at least she was certain. Tza¡¯rahlitzek had not been one of the Hells¡¯ great planners. People like Erebus and Jr¡¯agenthek planned. The imperator of shadow and madness had much preferred just creating high pressure situations and seeing what happened. When Lana had returned to the Hells, wounded, weary and heartbroken, she had been stunned to find just how much powerful she¡¯d grown in her aspect. Of course the Hells were a much easier place for a devil to exercise power, the fundamental reality malleable to a sufficiently powerful will. While she herself was certainly still vulnerable in the many overlapping planes that constituted her home it was doubtful anyone short of Jr¡¯agenthek could kill someone under her protection, at least without killing her first. And it had to be Jr¡¯agenthek, the Imperator of Order and Light¡¯s concept was superordinate to hers and could likely just order her to remove her aegis from someone. But one of the big changes was that she could shapeshift again. Nothing so extreme as that shown by the warshifter Alice, who had been able to turn into a towering colossus in open defiance of physics and biology, but the more casual swapping from face to face that succubi were famed for. It was important to be clear that she wasn¡¯t a succubus, or an incubus, though in truth the two were identical beyond personal preference, and even then it was extremely common for the two to swap day to day. That she could change her form again spoke to an incredible depth of knowledge for a devil so young, and both favoured and condemned her in the same moment. Most devils could not appear any different to how they were, that was one of the big sacrifices of embodying and manipulating the very building blocks of reality, that you had to embody it, and that meant to pretend to be something else was to wound yourself. Devils of deception could do it, amongst a handful of others, but even other devils regarded them as a kill on sight threat. An infohazard that could break a victim¡¯s perception of reality, doubting everything, believing nothing or left so gullible they could be persuaded to try and breathe water. There were others, of course, aspects that included a light bit of deception, a devil of strategy for example. But noone would believe that that was their nature, not when it could all have been a deception from the very beginning. Better to be safe and just kill them. That would be her fate if a single living (or otherwise) soul discovered her new ability. And the fallen gods¡¯ entire plan hinged upon it, naturally. Realising that sometimes to be a good guardian it was necessary to lie had been hard. Making the decision to return to Reath had been far harder. It was not a thing she could easily put into words, but to live on Reath was to be lesser, restrained. The world had been designed first and foremost as an impenetrable fortress for creatures of a far grander nature than her own. To step onto its soil was to leave so much of herself behind. With Tza¡¯rahlitzek it had been a visible effect in the air as countless effects the gods had decided were far too dangerous to ever be allowed on Reath were bound and rejected. Her own strength wasn¡¯t quite so formidable or her abilities so myriad, but it was still a big difference. The difference between a person being safe simply because she desired it so and actually having the grab the dagger descending towards their chest as a totally non-random example. Young (defined as anyone less than a thousand years old) Alexander¡¯s eyes were closed when she stopped the blade, the young man not wanting to see his death coming. It took him a few seconds to realise that the pain he¡¯d been anticipating was yet to materialize, the teenager cautiously opened one eye before both shot wide to stare at the thorned and armoured monster standing over and protecting him, but his shock was a guttering candle to the burning pillar of disbelief that was Agatha. ¡°What are you? Where¡¯s Lana?¡± The summoner demanded, still pressing down on the dagger, more out of executive dysfunction than any intent to kill. It was what she¡¯d been doing when shocked, and she was going to keep doing it until her brain caught up with things. It could take a while. ¡°I am Lana.¡± The demon told her coldly, ¡°And our bargain is fulfilled.¡± Alexander didn¡¯t even see the blow that killed Agatha. Neither did she. One moment the cultist had been grappling with Lana for the knife, the next there was a roughly human shaped dent in the wall where the devil¡¯s fist had in a single backhanded strike popped her defensive measures like a soap bubble before sending the old woman into the thoroughly sound-proofed walls of her basement, the back of her head cracked open in the impact. There was a damn good reason people didn¡¯t want devils on Reath. A centuries old demon summoner, with so much stolen power most First Response mages would have balked, dead in seconds, and Lana was just getting started. Agatha had not been alone, the entire cult¡¯s senior leadership gathered in the basement in case something had gone wrong. Unfortunately geriatrics made poor combatants, and trying to burn a devil with hellfire was simply adorable, Lana pushing Alexander off the altar and into cover before wading through it towards the quaking cultists. Which wasn¡¯t to say they were a total nonthreat, they might have been so out of their depth they were admiring the light on the fish but they were still veteran mages who had survived in the heart of their enemy¡¯s stronghold for decades. One of them stamped on the floor and Lana was forced to hurriedly claw out a section of the stone beneath with her feet as a binding circle tried to write itself around her. Two particularly nasty curses, some sort of bad luck jinx and a curse of drunkenness, splashed off of her armour, Lana shielding her face with her arm. Another cultist drew a crimson dagger, and Lana would put damned good money that it was a bane blade keyed to demons. Not really a huge threat given the arthritic hand holding it, at least until the cultist whispered to it and it began to fly at her of its own accord. Irritated she swatted the blade up into the ceiling, trusting to her armour of sin to stop the blade from cutting her, the dagger piercing into the rafters only to tug itself free a few moments later to barrel down towards the back of her head only to drop down as she finally reached its master and drove her claws through his eye sockets. Gruesome perhaps, but a lesser death wound would have kept the dagger in play while he bled out and while the bane blade was not an insurmountable obstacle it was a drain on her attention she could ill afford. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. For example the woman who¡¯d tried the binding circle had tried to invoke another the moment she¡¯d stepped out of Lana¡¯s peripheral vision, the devil only just managing to flick vitreous gore and grey matter onto it before it could finish writing itself. Letting the body slump to the floor she took in the five surviving cultists, all of them moving to distance themselves from her and each other, which made sense. The longer it took her to run them down the more chances they¡¯d get to bind or kill her. What was concerning was the lack of yelling or talking. Either they¡¯d fought together for an age or one of them was maintaining a telepathic link to the rest. A few moments of observation later confirmed it, one of the mages had blue glowing fingers pressed to her temple ¨C a rookie error really ¨C and was yet to try and attack her. The other cultist yet to do anything had also been magically scribing circles onto the floor, not the intricate runework of bindings but absolutely barebones summoning circles, presumably for pre-contracted demons. It occurred to Lana, somewhat belatedly, that she might actually be in danger here. The summoning circles activated and three ragos burst through into Reath, their summoner breaking the circles with a gesture to release them and pointing at Lana, ¡°Kill that one.¡± He ordered, already working on more circles. Thankfully the demons balked at the command, not charging forwards in a berserk rage to try and tear her apart with their bare hands. Not that she blamed them, just because they were rage demons didn¡¯t mean they wanted to die. It was also a mistake, their best chance to best her and live would have been to just fling themselves at her with no regard for their own safety. Lana was under no illusions as to her skills. She was good, damned good, but in those close confines there just wasn¡¯t the space she¡¯d need to fight. She hadn¡¯t even bothered to draw the blade at her hip for fear of getting it stuck in the ceiling or a wall, and most of her spells would prove devastating, particularly to the architecture above her and the human she had, in her summoning, found herself sworn to protect. Fights were a lot like this in Lana¡¯s experience. It was one of the greater secrets Tza¡¯rahlitzek had bestowed on her. Chance mattered so much more than people wanted to believe. Numbers even more than chance, at least in terms of the overall victor, but for individuals? Skill was a vanishingly small variable, and it took an absurd amount of it to change the odds of survival. A brawl was its own special brand of madness. It was perhaps what had made her master so very, very good at them. It took about three seconds for the bravest of the ragos to charge her, time enough for her destroy yet another binding circle with her feet and shoulder charge the cultist responsible. There was an ooph of air leaving lungs at speed as she drove the woman into the stone wall of the basement hard enough something crunched and she went limp, Lana turning just in time to tear out the lead ragos¡¯ throat with her armoured claws. A lot of traditional mages would have criticised her choice of victim. Conventional wisdom said to kill the telepath but in Lana¡¯s opinion the close confines made it far more important to kill the walking mosquito bite that had been forcing her to all but tapdance her way around the basement. The next two ragos were hot on the heels of the second, the rage demons belaying their names as they instead tried to grab an arm each, not even trying to wishbone her as they might with a human but just restrain her overwhelming strength long enough for their reinforcements to help. It was a good attempt against a stronger enemy. Under better circumstances Lana would have liked to learn the true names of the trio and recruited them to her own banner. Real life wasn¡¯t so kind, Lana simply overpowering the two, her claws sinking into the chests like a knife to pluck out their hearts. Which was the point the next three ragos hit her, and these three either had no doubts or were very good at turning fear into anger, the demoness almost losing an eye as one raked at her with its oversized talons. The good news was that her armour stopped the other two, and it only took a few strikes to murder each of them. The bad news was that the summonings weren¡¯t slowing down. Lana glanced at the altar for a moment, thankfully Alexander was ducked down behind the stone still rather than doing something foolish like helping while the demoness took the scant seconds before the next gaggle of ragos closed the distance to think about her options. The most obvious option was to just keep killing the demons as they came. There were only so many demons the summoner could have pre-contracted and if this were the best of them, which given this was a life or death fight against a devil they almost certainly were, she could easily weather that storm. But it was also just as likely that they¡¯d fill the basement with too many bodies to move and then make their escape. So she needed to kill the summoner, or at least break the circles he was using. And to do it in a way that didn¡¯t kill poor Alexander. That last part was the real complicating factor. A devil of guardianship it turned out needed someone or something to guard to access their full strength, yet none of the magic of the hells that Tza¡¯rahlitzek had taught her was anything less than devastating. An odd choice when training a bodyguard perhaps, but she¡¯d been trained to guard Erebus specifically, and the kind of threats that he needed protecting from weren¡¯t going to by stymied by a couple minor hexes. That and the necromancer¡¯s personal spell-shield had been the stuff of legend. She could have merrily levelled a small town with Erebus inside it sans fear for his safety. Alexander on the other hand¡­ Lana made a mental note to confiscate any sharp objects in the vicinity once the battle was done, that and to check his blood type. The ragos backed up sharply as Lana finally drew her sword, the lifedrinker glowly faintly crimson in the dim basement. At least one sneered as the devil¡¯s nerve apparently broke. There was no doubt that whichever of them went first would get skewered, but the basement was really too small for a blade of that length, a dagger or shortsword might have defended her handily. A bastard sword was a terrible weapon for this kind of fighting, and they also were a nightmare to throw if one were so foolishly inclined. Which made it a testament to Lana¡¯s aim that it managed to pinwheel through the crimson skinned monsters without touching even one to behead their summoner. There was a moment of silence as the demons realised they were now unbound on Reath. Lana barely managed to cross the room and dive over the altar to drive a cautiously peeking Alexander to the ground, the young man letting out a gasp of pain as some of the spikes on her armour dug into him. That was a secondary concern as the ragos demons went off like grenades, the room filling with hellfire and screams as they lay into what remained of Grandaunt Agatha¡¯s Knitting Circle. ¡°Stay down.¡± Lana hissed as she propped herself up on her elbows over her ward. Alexander managed a terrified and bewildered nod. Twice hellfire that would have reduced him to cinders washed over her and her armour before the sounds of fighting stopped entirely. Cautiously Lana stood up to gaze over the altar and was pleasantly unsurprised to find the surviving five ragos knelt obediently before her, even if one was busily chewing on Agatha¡¯s arm. One of the rage demons slowly raised their head, ¡°We pledge ourselves to your service your devilness.¡± ¡°Because I¡¯ll kill you if you don¡¯t?¡± Lana checked as she walked slowly around the altar, taking her time with it as she tried to envisage how this could be a trap and came up blank. ¡°Just so.¡± The lead demon confirmed, clearly expecting to be killed anyway going by how he leaned away at her glacial approach. ¡°I have no use for servants.¡± Lana declared, watching the twitch of pure terror pass before the kneeling demons. As amusing as it was she decided to throw them a bone, ¡°But I have no intentions of killing you unless you attack me or those under my aegis.¡± This didn¡¯t enthuse them as much as she¡¯d hoped. The demons conferring silently before their leader was eventually nudged back into speech, less ruling through strength but expendability it seemed. ¡°We would really like to be of service.¡± He said meekly, staring down at his clawed feet. ¡°Why?¡± Lana demanded, the devil bemused and uncertain at whatever was going on. If this had been the Hells she would have understood it, most devils maintained vast territories and working under one was a lot safer than trying to survive alone. Mostly because of the devils killing those that defied their authority. There was a long pause. Long enough for Lana to realise she was missing something obvious, at least to the demons before her, all of them far too scared to correct whatever assumption she was making. Finally the lead demon found his courage, or just was that resigned to death, ¡°H-have you never been summoned to Reath before, your devilness?¡± ¡°I have. Recently in fact.¡± Lana assured them, not liking the way comprehension dawned in the ragos¡¯ eyes. ¡°Not before you gained your aspect?¡± The rage demon inquired politely. ¡°No.¡± The devil of guardianship admitted, perplexed. ¡°Why do you ask?¡± ¡°Because- because you have never known what it is to be weak on Reath.¡± The demon said hurriedly, as if by saying them quickly enough he could escape before their meaning sank in. Lana¡¯s first thought was to protest that he was wrong. She had certainly felt weak on Reath, several times in-fact. Against the Encroaching Darkness, against Charigris, against Tza¡¯rahlitzek, even against Healer Evans. And that, she realised was her mistake. Things like Charigris to most of Reath, and to most of demonkind, were not people to be afraid of. They were natural disasters to be endured. To a lone demon, a squad of paladin guards was a deadly threat. An armed and armoured paladin a death sentence. And they had been summoned into the very heart of the Holy Paladin Order. Now she realised why they were so desperate to cling to her coattails, it was their one chance of survival. They needed protecting. Lana let out a groan as the realisation hit, just wonderful, now she couldn¡¯t abandon them without actively harming her aspect. ¡°I will do whatever is in my power to see you all safely back to the Hells or to a place of safety on Reath.¡± She promised, the words like ashes in her mouth as delay she could ill afford was added to her trip. After that it was just a matter of leading everyone up out of the basement, with Alexander and the demons keeping a mutual cautious distance from each other, and out into the afternoon light, demons, devil and man blinking their eyes into focus to take in the several rows of pikes and crossbows directed at the door while a rather nervous looking guard captain stood in front of the weapons, not bothering to hide how dearly he wanted to be behind them instead. ¡°His greatness, High Paladin Gregor, wishes to speak with you demon.¡± He stated, trying to make it more demanding than pleading, and frankly failing. Which was around the point that life got complicated for Lana. Oathmaker - Chapter 21 - A Reflection Upon Helplessness It had turned out there were a shocking number of ways to get killed practicing Basic Reanimation, a lot of them not even involving magic, from the long term effects of inhaling bone dust to the dangers of improperly scaffolded large skeletons. Alec and Holly impressed not just at the risks involved but how needlessly graphic a lot of the warnings were, or perhaps not. Their fellow students so far seemed the sorts to treat danger as a type of spice. Mortimer had at least seemed pleased with how seriously they¡¯d taken the reading. The alchemist walking out with them to lead them to their next lesson. ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a walk.¡± The teacher apologised, ¡°The bigwigs like to keep the alchemy lab far away from the other labs, just in case one of the explosions has a bad interaction with the reagents in the enchanting or reanimation labs. As if that would help if a vial of Banefire went critical.¡± Holly watched him somewhat cautiously, ¡°I take it that you¡¯re also our alchemy teacher, Alchemist Mortimer?¡± ¡°Quite. As well as enchantment. Archmage Merida believes in a combined arms approach as it were, so a teacher who could cover all aspects of modern undead construction was vital.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we break for lunch?¡± Alec asked rather hopefully. That took Mortimer by surprise, ¡°Technically yes. But students seldom have any appetite after reanimation classes. I can¡¯t begin to imagine why. I¡¯ve found scheduling alchemy lessons immediately after nets us a good extra half hour of lab time.¡± ¡°Well this student needs food or their concentration will be absolutely awful.¡± The teen declared, arms folded. Holly huffed out a laugh, ¡°Brin was very clear that only ogres got to turn food into magic.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just looking to turn it into not being hungry.¡± Alec replied. Mortimer sighed, ¡°Well it had to happen eventually. Fine, you and your iron stomach go eat. But Holly can stay and...¡± ¡°Actually I die if I get too far away from him.¡± Holly interjected. ¡°I thought Merida had fixed¡­ oh very well. I will see you after lunch in Alchemy Lab Three.¡± Mort groused. ¡°If nothing else it will give me time to make more memory blank spheres.¡± ¡°One final thing¡­¡± Alec began, ¡°where is Alchemy Lab Three?¡± The alchemist gnawed at his lip a moment as he debated his answer, ¡°When in the Necropolis, seek and ye shall find.¡± He gave a somewhat helpless shrug, ¡°We¡¯re not at Umbral Temple levels of bizarre geography but the place does have its moods. And its favourites. As long as you have a destination in mind you will more often than not find where you seek.¡± ¡°I was more thinking you might have a map?¡± Alec suggested weakly. ¡°And maybe something less cryptic. Like what makes the Umbral Temple so weird and the Necropolis less weird?¡± Mortimer facepalmed, ¡°Paladin born, my mistake. The Umbral Temple has no set geography, it can change its layout on a whim, and the building is intelligent enough to have whims. The Necropolis has a set floorplan, there¡¯s just spells in place to limit what you can see at any given time, but if you know it¡¯s there then it can¡¯t hide it from you.¡± ¡°Except we don¡¯t know where Alchemy Lab Three is.¡± Holly protested, ¡°So the fact we¡¯ll be able to see it isn¡¯t exactly helpful.¡± Mort shook his head, ¡°You¡¯re not getting it. The Necropolis reflects you, there¡¯s a spell and everything, the more scared you are, the scarier it is, etc, but what happens when you¡¯re really focused on finding a room? The only path available will be to the room, Brin¡¯s gotten almost concerningly good at it. Now off with you both, if you can¡¯t find it after all that then you¡¯re too dumb to be allowed in an alchemy lab.¡± The duo didn¡¯t need any more encouragement to hurry away, waiting until they¡¯d turned at least two corners to come to slow to a walk and talk as they went, retracing their steps from earlier to seek out the common room. ¡°It¡¯s not here.¡± Holly said simply, shaking her head in quiet disappointment. ¡°Most likely not.¡± Her partner agreed, ¡°Some of that could be useful. But the undead themselves¡­ no.¡± ¡°How was your mana bath?¡± Holly asked quietly, not missing the way Alec flinched at the question. ¡°It was¡­ what we¡¯re looking for. Also unpleasant.¡± The dryad nodded slowly, ¡°You don¡¯t have to do it if it¡¯s that bad, we¡¯ll find another way. If we head back to Seruatis they¡¯ll probably have their own ideas.¡± Alec sighed, sorely tempted as his brain and his desires warred, and it had to be said his desire to avoid being tortured had a damn good argument, ¡°We¡¯re here now, and it works. Besides with the bond so fragile, having Merida on hand to do¡­ whatever it is she did. It¡¯s helpful.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t disagree with any of that but still¡­ what if it isn¡¯t here at all?¡± Holly inquired softly. ¡°Then we look somewhere else.¡± Alec said simply. ¡°It¡¯s like you told me in Avalon. One day it will be our turn. I just don¡¯t see how Erebus¡­ became Erebus in this place.¡± ¡°I hate to say it, but I don¡¯t actually recall him using necromancy one time in front of us. Do you?¡± ¡°Once. Just once, before you and I met. When he bound Ente into the soul jar.¡± Alec admitted. ¡°Other than that¡­ not once. Huh.¡± ¡°It¡¯s weird.¡± Holly agreed, ¡°Everyone talks about him as a necromancer first and foremost, yet he didn¡¯t do any necromancy.¡± ¡°Or we¡¯re missing something.¡± Alec suggested. ¡°Or we¡¯re missing something.¡± ¡°How are you feeling though? Are you getting enough mana?¡± The teenager checked, aware that for all Holly hadn¡¯t been effectively waterboarded she¡¯d still had her own trials and travails this morning. ¡°Sore.¡± She admitted, ¡°And honestly just¡­ frustrated. We¡¯re at the Necropolis and it feels like we¡¯re learning nothing. The good news is Master Vee seems to know what he¡¯s doing at least.¡± ¡°That¡¯s something. And we are learning nothing, and it doesn¡¯t make it less frustrating that there are good reasons for it. We¡¯ve just got to power through. And doesn¡¯t for a second think I didn¡¯t notice you dodging. Are you getting enough mana Holly?¡± ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s just weird is all. I can feel the bond is still gossamer thin yet I¡¯m not even having to fight to get enough to live.¡± ¡°I thought you said Merida¡¯s magic had run its course?¡± Alec queried, the teenager¡¯s brow almost comically furrowed in confusion. ¡°I did. No offence to Mortimer but he doesn¡¯t seem exactly¡­ stable.¡± ¡°I got that too.¡± Holly¡¯s host admitted, ¡°Anything else worth noting?¡± ¡°Nothing that I¡¯d be prepared to say in public.¡± ¡°Until later then.¡± Alec agreed with a nod as they came to a stop in front of the common room, and far earlier than Holly had been expecting. ¡°He was right. Focus on the destination and you get there.¡± ¡°You¡¯re about to turn this into some kind of philosophical point aren¡¯t you?¡± Holly groused. ¡°Of course not.¡± Alec lied, stepping into the lunch edition of the common room. * Alchemist Mortimer took a deep swig from his flask as he hovered over his work, the Elixir of Confidence was a powerful and often dangerous tool, especially when the person taking it had built up such a tolerance. There was a non-neglible chance that Mortimer could have taken a swim in one of the vats with little fear of overdose and the effects burned out fast these days. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t be working taking that.¡± Merida noted, placing a hand comfortingly on his shoulder before slowly applying force enough to drag him away from hunching over the delicate sphere he¡¯d been siphoning a translucent blue liquid into. Mortimer slowly and carefully guided the remaining potion out of the air and into the bottle with a wave of his hand before stoppering it firmly. Only then did he let himself relax, confidence was one thing, but mishandling a Draught of Amnesia was pushing past overconfidence into an elaborate form of suicide. ¡°You know we need these.¡± The alchemist pointed out as he stared down at the incomplete memory blank sphere. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen students burn through so many in a single day. It¡¯s not just the pair of them. The gossip about them alone has forced us to wipe the class¡¯s memory twice and if Hope weren¡¯t damn good at keeping her mouth shut I¡¯d refuse to be in the room with her at this point.¡± ¡°Yes our little spider really is proving to be the model necromancer. I always suspected but it¡¯s nice to have it confirmed.¡± Archmage Merida agreed with a slight smile. ¡°What was your own impression of Erebus¡¯ wayward apprentices?¡± ¡°They¡¯re arrogant.¡± Mortimer said, ¡°Studious but I¡¯ve never seen an apprentice necromancer with so much contempt for the art.¡± The elf snorted out a laugh, ¡°They insulted Walter didn¡¯t they?¡± ¡°They did.¡± The alchemist grumbled, ¡°The nerve of them! They who have not so much as charmed a wisp!¡± Merida laughed, ¡°Walter is an incredibly powerful weapon that shall serve the Necropolis for centuries if not millenia to come. He¡¯s also a child¡¯s toy that I could snap in half.¡± Mortimer nearly spat out an insult before thinking better of it, ¡°You¡¯re an archmage. That¡¯s different.¡± ¡°Very true. They¡¯re just children Mort. They don¡¯t know how to cope with it.¡± ¡°Cope with what, archmage?¡± ¡°The terror. The first time I grasped my own insignificance was against a sidhe lord. I say against, I was so unprepared I didn¡¯t even realise it was happening. We¡¯d camped in a forest clearing. Well I say we, it was me, my master and scores of zombies¡­ it was summer so I won¡¯t even describe the stench to you...¡± Over a thousand years after the fact a shudder ran down Merida¡¯s spine. ¡°I was on watch that night.¡± She continued. ¡°Well I and the undead. But there were these noises coming from the woods, footsteps, twigs snapping underfoot, leaves crackling. I¡¯d have suspected a dryad but¡­ the zombies weren¡¯t reacting. It was like they couldn¡¯t hear it at all. ¡°If I¡¯d known then what I know now, I¡¯d have woken my master in a heartbeat. But she¡¯d been taking on the manticore¡¯s share of the workload for weeks by that point and she was so obviously close to burning out and we were a week¡¯s travel from any of the battlefronts. It should have been safe.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t.¡± Mort concluded, saying the obvious if just to have a part in the coversation. ¡°But it wasn¡¯t.¡± The elderly elf confirmed, ¡°I¡­ was foolish. I was only in my seventies back then, barely an adult, and I thought I was so damn smart. So like an idiot I went to investigate the sounds, in the middle of a forest, not even on a trail, at night.¡± She snorted with unfeigned derision at her younger self. ¡°If anything I was lucky it was a trap or they¡¯d probably still be looking for me now.¡± ¡°I followed the sound of footsteps for I don¡¯t know how long¡­ but long enough that I wasn¡¯t surprised that the sky began to lighten. That should have been a huge clue that something was wrong¡­ that I¡¯d been entranced. But that¡¯s the nature of that sort of thing, once it has you it¡¯s almost impossible to notice. Especially if you¡¯re a naive apprentice who¡¯s never faced another magical creature in combat. ¡°Anyway, at some point the trees thinned again, I heard voices and laughter, and I burst into a new clearing. There was a table in the middle of the clearing. No that¡¯s a lie. There was my table there. The one my friends and I would eat at during the evening¡¯s here in the Necropolis. It¡¯s long gone now alas but I remember it so clearly. The way the varnish had worn through, the corner where Elia and Orthon had put a heart around their names...¡± Merida forced a brittle smile, ¡°Stop looking so scared Mort, I¡¯m not going to kill you for hearing this. I¡¯m just trying to help give you some perspective. Now where was I? Oh yes¡­ ¡°There was a man at the head of the table, clad in a thick cloak of raven¡¯s feathers¡­ the most beautiful person I¡¯d ever seen. I remember feeling wetness on my cheeks and raising my hand to find tears at the mere sight of him, and he welcomed me as a friend¡­ beckoning me to the table to sit with the others feasting there.¡± The archmage¡¯s bitter chuckle was a thing of horror. ¡°Noone had ever warned me about the fae. Why would they? The Era of Invasion was such a faded memory the only living, or unliving, souls that recalled it were safely ensconced in Seruatis. ¡°Even if I¡¯d known though¡­ I suspect it wouldn¡¯t have mattered. Corbeau¡¯s enchantment and glamour were just too strong and besides, it was so good to see my friends again. They were all there, waiting for me to join them, and happy to see me too...¡± She shook her head, as if trying to shake off cobwebs. ¡°Have you ever been enchanted Mortimer?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve dosed myself with hallucinogens during a potion spill¡­ but enchanted¡­ no I¡¯ve never had that dubious pleasure, archmage.¡± ¡°It¡¯s like the most amazing dream you¡¯ve ever had.¡± Merida said with fond reminiscence on one of her greatest traumas. ¡°Everything just makes sense. I didn¡¯t question why Orthon was there. Why Johann was there, despite knowing for a fact he was a hundred miles away tending to our wounded and Brigg had disappeared without trace almost a year ago. I didn¡¯t even question why the sun was blue.¡± She paused, ¡°I left out that part didn¡¯t I? Well it doesn¡¯t matter beyond proving that I¡¯d entered Avalon without noticing. ¡° ¡°Avalon has a blue sun?¡± Mortimer interjected, ¡°I don¡¯t recall that mentioned anywhere.¡± ¡°It¡¯s blue if a sidhe lord in their private demesne decides it is.¡± The archmage said darkly. ¡°The point is that I sat down to eat with the fae lord. Or at least I sat down.¡± ¡°It was such a silly thing you know, the food was there and it looked and smelt glorious, everyone was tearing into and having fun and I wanted to join in. I really did. But my parents, Martyr watch over them, for the first fifty years of my life always insisted that you always waited for the host to eat first, and Corbeau wasn¡¯t eating. Just watching me. Sometimes it really is the stupidest thing that will save your life.¡± ¡°I remember being mortified when he frowned at the sight of me not eating. ¡®Young Merida, why do you not partake?¡¯ He asked me. He had such a lovely voice, like someone had somehow figured out how to turn chocolate and honey into sound. And I answered that he had not yet given me leave to eat.¡± ¡°Then he smiled and everything was okay again¡­ ¡®So good and rare¡¯ He said, ¡®to find one so mannerly in this waning age. Worry not Merida. If the food was not there to be eaten, why would it be there?¡¯ The bastard.¡± It took Mortimer a few moments to piece together the puzzle. ¡°He never explicitly said you could eat.¡± The alchemist noted. ¡°No guest right. Which would have prevented him from harming you. And there was something wrong with the food, poison?¡± ¡°Precisely. Alas I didn¡¯t spot it myself. I had a haunch of rabbit about an inch from my lips when I retched. I like to think even then I was fairly numb to bad odours, Hells above and below, I led zombies for necromancy¡¯s sake! But still to go from sumptuous feast to being surrounded by rotting corpses was¡­ jarring.¡± ¡°You threw up.¡± Mort concluded. ¡°Copiously.¡± Merida admitted. ¡°When I finally looked up from the mess I¡¯d made of the meal before me the glamour had broken. Yet my friends were still there. I was sat next to Brigg. She was putrid, just left in the sun to rot, insects crawling out of her eye sockets. It was vile. I¡¯d later find out that over thirty apprentices had been kidnapped over the previous three months. Pretty much my entire generation of necromancers wiped out.¡± ¡°The Paladin Order has always had a knack for subterfuge no matter what they claim.¡± The alchemist opined. ¡°You¡¯d think so but no. They lost over fifty squires to Corbeau as well. No. It wasn¡¯t just the first time I learned helplessness, it was the first time I saw real genuine evil. He hadn¡¯t done it because of some ideology or to alter the outcome of the war, he¡¯d just been bored. Ironically even the Paladin Order was so horrified, and grateful that he was stopped, that we got a ceasefire out of it.¡± ¡°So how did you stop him?¡± Mortimer asked, increasingly enthralled now he wasn¡¯t worried for his life. ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t. The bad smell was where reality had reasserted itself. When I recovered enough to turn around she was just standing there. Yttrian the Adamantine-¡± ¡°May she rest in peace.¡± Her audience added swiftly, only to get a semi-amused snort from the annoyed archmage. ¡°She¡¯s not dead. Just thinking.¡± Merida told Mort sharply. ¡°One barely dares to fathom what she must be contemplating to occupy her so.¡± Whatever first came to the alchemist¡¯s mind he clearly thought better of it, only half opening his mouth before firmly shutting it again. ¡°Of course archmage.¡± It said a lot about that esteem that the Archmage of Myriad Arts held poor Mortimer that she accepted that on face value. ¡°Anyway. There she was Yttrian the Adamantine¡­ in the flesh. Well the bones at least and she was¡­ hideous. Have you ever seen her Mort?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve not had that pleasure archmage, but I¡¯ve seen sketches.¡± He assured her. ¡°They don¡¯t do her justice. She is the most unsightly undead you will ever lay eyes upon, even now I¡¯ve yet to meet her equal on that front, and I¡¯ve tended to zombies that got lost in a swamp for weeks.¡± Merida said, warming back to her story. ¡°Her entire skeleton is warped, not a bone in the right shape and her skull¡­ it¡¯s like someone blew up then deflated a bladder. Every time she moves there¡¯s the dull rasp of metal grinding on metal. ¡°I think that was part of how she shattered Corbeau¡¯s glamour so easily. No idyllic vision could ever hope to accommodate her. No amount of endorphins pumped directly into my brain could downplay the shock. And when I looked around.¡± Merida cut herself off, taking a deep breath before powering through. ¡°When I looked around, well I¡¯ve already told you. They never named it you know. It¡¯s always bothered me, you¡¯d think near an entire generation of young mages and paladins being murdered in cold blood would get a name¡­ I¡¯ve tried a few times but none of them ever really stuck.¡± ¡°Archmage¡­ you¡¯re really starting to scare me here.¡± Mortimer interrupted. ¡°Why are you telling me these things?¡± ¡°Because everyone needs someone to talk to.¡± Merida admitted with a wan smile and a shrug. ¡°And of the people I respect, you are the one that could never pose a threat to me.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve known each other over a decade, why open up now?¡± The alchemist asked, still looking uneasy. ¡°Many reasons, some I won¡¯t tell you, some I can¡¯t tell you, and some I¡¯m merely not allowed to tell you.¡± The elf said with a smile, ¡°So we¡¯ll stick to just the obvious two. Firstly the impersonal one, Holly and Alec will likely prove the most trying students the Necropolis has faced since Sigisbald the Ravening and Morgana Jotunsdottir.¡± There was a slight pause as Merida sought some sort of comprehension in her friend¡¯s face. ¡°Too old a reference? Hmm¡­ okay, since the Six Sins studied here.¡± That at least provided a frame of reference. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious archmage. I get that they¡¯re¡­ troubled but surely they¡¯re not ¡®six demons learning necromancy¡¯ levels of bad?¡± Merida shook her head in soft amusement at what she could only describe as youthful naivety. ¡°My friend, they will likely be an order of magnitude worse. Were they anything less than an archmage¡¯s apprentice I would likely kill them for fear of the number of spinning plates they could unbalance. And yet- and yet. I have seen so many students come and go, and I haven¡¯t seen this much raw potential since my last apprentice. And I don¡¯t mean their magicka, or their talents and knowledge, all of those are things you can give a person if you choose too. But that will¡­ that drive¡­ I see what Erebus saw in them.¡± ¡°You mentioned a second reason?¡± ¡°Oh that. I just need to be sure I haven¡¯t gone completely mad while I wasn¡¯t looking. Mostly mad is still acceptable.¡± Merida waited a beat. ¡°That was a joke Mort.¡± The alchemist managed to force a chuckle. ¡°Of course archmage. Very droll.¡± ¡°Is my reputation really that bad?¡± Merida inquired, trying not to look too put out by the thought. ¡°No archmage, but it doesn¡¯t imply that you tell jokes either.¡± The alchemist reassured her. ¡°So even worse.¡± She mused, ¡°Very well. Clearly I well have to take measures to increase my perceived jocularity. Perhaps a hat?¡± Sometimes an expression could say volumes that words could not. ¡°Definitely not a hat then. I¡¯ll think of something. Now where was I? Ah yes, Yttrian...¡± * Yttrian the Adamantine was, even by the reserved standards of the dead, not much of a talker. The lich saying nary a word as she strode between Corbeau and the young elf apprentice, and the fact the table was between them didn¡¯t even slow her down. The beautiful wood crumbling to splinters in apparent defiance of physics. The truth was that there wasn¡¯t any wood there in the fast place. Corbeau¡¯s private demesne in Avalon was little more than his will made manifest beyond some plunder and trophies. Which probably explained why the sidhe lord looked so pained as part of his imagination was crushed to splinters as Yttrian just overrode his reality by sheer force of will. Despite that there was a triumphant gleam in the sidhe lord¡¯s eyes as he stared down the disfigured lich. ¡°Yttrian the Adamantine, you have violated guest right here in the very heart of my home. What say you?¡± ¡°No.¡± That puzzled the ancient fae, of the many responses he¡¯d been prepared for, the thousand retorts and rejoinders he¡¯d readied to play with the surprisingly large fish that had somehow ended up on his hook, a blatant denial of reality was not one of them. ¡°No? What do you mean no? Your crimes are self-evident.¡± ¡°No. To violate guest-right one needs be a guest first. I came here with no such intent.¡± Yttrian explained patiently. ¡°You will release the bodies of our apprentices and Merida shall leave unharmed.¡± ¡°The guest right was implied when you entered my home.¡± Corbeau tried again, sweat beading on his forehead. Merida hadn¡¯t known at the time what was taxing him so. Education on the fae and Avalon really had been dire back in her youth. In one simple statement Yttrian had sidestepped a lot of the power the fae held in this place. The obligations of guest and host were a physical thing in Avalon, and now they held no power over her. Or offered any protection, but the lich was not someone who needed protecting. ¡°You say you implied it. I did not infer it. Your invitation was lacking.¡± ¡°Then I invite you now.¡± Corbeau declared. It was a clumsy move. Even if Yttrian had accepted it would have done little more than put them on a level footing, her past indiscretions made irrelevant. It was a moot point anyway, the metal coated skeleton staring the sidhe lord down for a single contemptuous moment before stating simply. ¡°I decline.¡± The lord of ravens¡¯ features darkened with rage as he waved a hand in Yttrian¡¯s direction. ¡°Then begone.¡± And nothing happened. The sidhe tried a second time to do¡­ whatever it was he was attempting, to similar effect, the adamantine clad lich just staring at him with a bemused tilt to her skull. ¡°I¡¯ve heard performance issues aren¡¯t uncommon, especially for someone of your advancing years.¡± ¡°You-!¡± The fae did probably the worst thing he could do in the circumstances and lost his temper, crossing the distance in a moment to slam a fist into the lich¡¯s ribs with a force that sent a shockwave through the air great enough to throw Merida from her feet¡­ and break every single bone in Corbeau¡¯s hand. The sidhe lord¡¯s scream of agony echoed through the clearing as he stared at his mangled hand, trying to just imagine it better, but it just wasn¡¯t happening. He¡¯d never have the chance to figure out why either, Yttrian didn¡¯t cast a spell, uttered no words of power or binding, the lich simply placed a hand either side of the Lord of Ravens head and pulled until with a grisly squelch and crunch it ripped free of the rest of his body. The fae¡¯s wide eyes staring uncomprehendingly at his fallen form as the light faded from them. Contemptuously the lich discarded the fae¡¯s head next to the rest of the corpse, and for a few moments Merida wondered how she planned to transport it out of there. A sidhe lord¡¯s body would be an incredible boon to the Necropolis, even in death Corbeau¡¯s corpse would have limited reality warping effects if properly refined. Given the state of the war the sidhe lord could prove vital. Which was why she wasn¡¯t even slightly prepared as flames leapt from Yttrian¡¯s outstretched hand to begin scorching the Lord of Ravens to little more than ash before scattering them with a gust of summoned wind. Only then did the lich acknowledge the slack-jawed apprentice. ¡°Come girl, your master is worried for you.¡± Ytrrian offering a hand to the trembling elf, helping her out of her chair and leading her out of Avalon. * ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± Mort said simply. ¡°Oh. Well I suppose that¡¯s my fault.¡± Merida sighed. ¡°The point was that Alec and Holly have seen real evil, felt real helplessness, and that it leaves scars. It took me centuries before I stopped seeing Brigg¡¯s rotted face the majority of nights. But that¡¯s what you¡¯re dealing with, not arrogant children who don¡¯t know any better, but terrified ones that do, and have no idea how to handle it.¡± The alchemist took a few moments to digest the lesson. ¡°So what do you recommend?¡± ¡°That you try and show them something that will make them feel safer.¡± Mortimer snorted, ¡°It¡¯s Basic Reanimation archmage, there¡¯s really not that much I can do.¡± ¡°Not an unreasonable observation.¡± The elf agreed, ¡°But still¡­ if you can think of anything, please do so.¡± She received a respectful nod as Mortimer turned back to his work, the memory blank sphere opening back up as he began to siphon the alchemicals into it once more. At least for a couple seconds before he closed it again to turn to the elf already at the door. ¡°...Archmage¡­? How many times have we had conversations like this?¡± ¡°Enough to think of you fondly Mortimer.¡± Merida assured him. Oathmaker - Chapter 22 - Basic Alchemy ¡°Of all the disciplines that can be taught it is alchemy that cleaves closest to the true nature of magic. Now I know every school of thought claims itself to be the one supreme metric by which all must be measured so let me say this first. There are things alchemy cannot do, a master alchemist will not best a master mage inside their own field, or possible even outside it, but what we do in these labs is magic in its purest form. We take that which cleaves to the laws of nature and we alter it irrevocably. Turning the chemical into the alchemical. ¡°One of the great secrets of alchemy, the thing that makes it so powerful, is that it is reproducible. It is its greatest strength and its greatest weakness. The caster¡¯s will is made irrelevent, a drawback even, a pyromancer¡¯s anger providing hotter flame will just ruin your potion, a cryomancer¡¯s terrible calm will simply shatter the rather expensive glasswork. To that end we have gone to great lengths to take the mage out of alchemy with the equipment you see before you. Even a mortal with the correct amount of crystallized mana could produce the exact same results as an archmage. ¡°Now normally I would spend this first lesson just going over the safety protocols of the lab, especially given we lost the extra half hour I normally put aside. However I have been advised to make some minor adjustments to my curriculum.¡± That was a lie and a half, Mortimer had less made adjustments and more dumped the entire thing down into the sewers after setting it on fire. And regretted the decision the moment the Elixir of Confidence had worn off, but he¡¯d been halfway through setting the lab up by that point with no time to reset things. He didn¡¯t blame Merida for not thinking of this. The Archmage of Myriad Arts might have been an acknowledged master of more magical arts than any mage living or otherwise but she was still at heart a necromancer, and so she would always give answers that relied on necromancy where possible. To her alchemy and artificery were tools to enhance necromancy rather than paths in their own right. But if Alec and Holly were the terrified children she thought they were, well then¡­ alchemy was the great equalizer. If they needed safety to knuckle down and study properly then he would give them safety. Literally. ¡°In light of your medical difficulties I have provided crystallized mana to power the equipment.¡± And that was not going to be fun to put on the budget, the liches being as stingy as they were with the stuff. ¡°You will both spend today making you both a tincture of resilience using the instructions provided. If you have any questions, any at all, you will bring them to me immediately. Once you have the tincture, and I cannot stress this enough, do not under any circumstance drink it. A tincture is by definition an alcohol based solution and I can assure you that there is no situation where a little extra hardiness will not be outweighed by the drunkenness.¡± Technically potions produced in the lab were supposed to be handed in to be added to the Necropolis, and the Council of Mages, stores of potions or, in the more likely case at this early stage, disposed of safely¡­ or, in cases of truly spectacular failure, added to the Necropolis or Council of Mages stores of rare poisons. A policy he fervently agreed with, apprentice necromancers were foolhardy enough without the ability to walk around with weapons grade magic-in-a-bottle. It was why he¡¯d chosen the tincture, because it was hard to find a genuinely dangerous use case for it; it wasn¡¯t an offensive weapon, intended to be drunk, nor had particularly harmful effects if imbibed regardless. The tincture¡¯s intended application was as a temporary protector of clothing, with the cloth retaining its unnatural toughness until the alcoholic solution had evaporated into the air. Sometimes, Mortimer had to admit to his unelixered self, magical confidence produced good ideas. * ¡°So what do you think happens if we stir it with the staff?¡± Holly mused as she painstakingly and painfully ground the tiny amount of manticore claw needed in a small mortar and pestle. It was tiring work and her arms were burning with exertion. Not the lactic acid of human exercise but mana exhaustion where she wasn¡¯t able to replenish it fast enough in the weary limbs. ¡°Nothing boring.¡± Alec guessed dryly. The teenager was very carefully measuring out the powdered crystallized mana needed to heat the small vial bent over a desk with the measuring spoon about an inch from his face, looking like a bizarre predatory insect where the thick protective goggle they were being being forced to wear were mishaping his profile. It was easily the most dangerous part of the process, not because the stuff was liable to explode but because a mismeasurement would when put in the heater result in either an unusable potion (if too little) or a burning ceiling (if too much). Mortimer had helpfully underlined in red the sections which could be dangerous, some twice. The section for the heating element he¡¯d essentially coloured in. Much to their watching teacher¡¯s pleasure Alec double checked that the weighing scales, a fiddly contraption at the best of the times, were not just calibrated but that the result was in the margin of error. The joys of a student who¡¯d seen life outside of the Necropolis, they knew just how dangerous magic could be and showed it the proper respect. ¡°What¡¯s the next step?¡± He asked as he carefully loaded the powdered mana into the compartment at the base of the odd cylinder that according to the diagrams would, when the command word was said while its base was held, produce flames to heat the beaker into which Holly was scraping the manticore claws. ¡°Alcohol.¡± The dryad said simply, ¡°Though it doesn¡¯t say whether to use beer or wine.¡± ¡°Neither.¡± Mortimer interjected with a small smile, drawing their attention back to him as he walked to the supplies closet and retrieved a flask of clear liquid. ¡°This is pure alcohol. Do not drink it. Do not get it near a direct flame. And try not to spill it on you. It won¡¯t cause any permanent harm, but it will leave you with irritatingly dry skin if not washed off quickly. And if I ever catch any of you using it to mix your own drinks then may the hells help you.¡± That said he delicately placed the thick glass flask on the table and stepped back to let them continue. ¡°Okay. So it says fifty millilitres of alcohol. It also says to put on a facemask before heating due to fumes.¡± Holly said, raising her voice as she directed her following question to Mortimer. ¡°Does that still count for dryads?¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Probably.¡± The alchemist hedged. Alec ignored the byplay, carefully measuring out the amount of undiluted alcohol into a measuring beaker ¨C a vast upgrade on the by-eye methods he¡¯d seen used up to now ¨C and trying not choke or gag at the overpowering sweat smell. ¡°Next?¡± ¡°Ironwood oil. Five mililitres. But it doesn¡¯t say what sort of ironwood¡­¡± Again Mortimer came to the rescue. ¡°While ironwood is a catchall term for certain hardwoods, in alchemy it refers to a specific species of magically altered tree that leeches iron from the soil to produce an axeproof bark. Grows extra well in bloody soil or above abandoned iron mines. The oil is in the third cabinet on your left. No hazards associated.¡± The teenager dutifully retrieved the oil and measured it out before adding it to the mixture, stirring it with a steel rod as Holly turned on the heat. ¡°What now?" ¡°Stir withershins until the manticore claw turns grey. What on Reath is withershins?¡± ¡°Counter-clockwise.¡± Their teacher replied swiftly. Holly gave a quick nod of acknowledgement before continuing to read aloud. ¡°Then heat it, without letting it boil, until the claw dissolves.¡± Holly read aloud. ¡°Then just let it cool. Honestly seems worryingly simple.¡± ¡°Because it is.¡± Mortimer chimed in, ¡°I mean the magical theory is a little bit more complex, but pretty much anyone can follow a recipe. The hard part of most alchemy is sourcing the ingredients. This is fairly easy, manticores are a regular pest and ironwood is not in short supply, but the really interesting stuff requires nonsense like a lotus that blooms only at night, dew that was struck by the sun of Avalon and dragon¡¯s heartsblood.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all fascinating¡­ but what if a person was stirring clockwise before they heard the instruction?¡± Alec asked slowly. ¡°Absolutely nothing. I wouldn¡¯t give a recipe with that level of finickiness to beginners.¡± Their teacher assured them, ¡°But let that be a lesson to you. No matter how obvious the next step seems, check anyway.¡± ¡°Why does the direction of stirring affect things?¡± Holly asked, leaned back in her chair as she let Alec check if the claw had turned grey yet. Alchemist Mortimer¡¯s laugh was surprisingly bitter. ¡°I could tell you about the latent mana from the ironwood oil leeching into the claw and adding to its preexisting power, the way the defensive mana transforms and diffuses when it¡¯s met by fire mana¡­ but the stirring? We have absolutely no idea why stirring direction changes things. As far as we can tell it¡¯s completely arbitrary that it has an effect.¡± ¡°To be honest I was expecting a lot more of that sort of teaching.¡± Alec admits as he looked up from the beaker. ¡°Claw¡¯s grey. Do you want to control the burner or should I?¡± ¡°I will.¡± Holly declared, sliding down from her chair so they could swap places. ¡°And there would be if you were going into experimental alchemy.¡± Mortimer told him, ¡°But the sad truth is you just don¡¯t need to know it otherwise. All a good alchemist needs to do is know the lab processes, good lab safety and the recipes. Most lessons will just be more complicated versions of this, that and maybe the odd trip to source ingredients if you decide you both want to become wandering mages.¡± ¡°Trips to where?¡± Alec asked curiously, neither he nor Holly had expected semi-regular excursions from the Necropolis, Erebus and Natalya had mostly made it sound like a never-ending cycle of studying and combat training. ¡°Well you¡¯re still in your first year so nothing too dangerous. Maybe hunting for wisps in Bleakmire Vale, excavating verilith from one of the abandoned mines or a monster hunt of some kind ¨C with heavy supervision.¡± ¡°And the later years¡­?¡± ¡°Oh the later years get crazy. Scavenging the Wraith Vaults for wraith dust, a trip through Avalon ¨C with an armed bodyguard of Gardeners, Shields and Slayers ¨C oh what else¡­? Oh yeah there¡¯s a trip to one of the local hells where you¡¯ll be expected to bottle and distil hellfire.¡± ¡°How do you distil fire?¡± Alec asked while watching Holly manage her own flame, the magical fire enveloping the flask in a dim red fire. ¡°Magic.¡± Mortimer answered dryly. ¡°Also you¡¯re going to want to lower the flame a bit more Holly.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Holly said, placing her hand back on the burner and, with a little focus, making the flame smaller. ¡°So uh¡­ what¡¯s the plan for the rest of the lesson¡­ sir?¡± ¡°There¡¯s no need for a sir. I¡¯m just Mortimer.¡± The alchemist laughed. ¡°And I figured we¡¯d go over your options when it comes for next lesson¡­ something that uses new equipment or methods. Honestly you seem to both take things seriously enough that I expect we can bump you up into Advanced Alchemy with the other advanced students in just a few months.¡± Alec started at that, ¡°So soon¡­? I would have thought we¡¯d be way further behind.¡± ¡°Oh you are. But it really is just being able to follow instructions precisely, having steady hands and knowing when to dive behind a blast screen. The main difference between advanced and basic alchemy is that you get open access to the labs and the ingredients we use in the lessons are a lot more expensive. That and if there¡¯s a major crisis you might get called in to make emergency potions. The moment I feel safe certifying you as able to use the equipment, you¡¯re in.¡± ¡°How major is a major crisis? On a scale from say¡­¡± Alec sought some kind of baseline for a minor incident, ¡°dead village to demon queen?¡± ¡°Anything that could threaten a fortified town.¡± Mortimer answered without hesitation. ¡°Roving ghoul clan, bl¨¹tkind, rogue minor elemental, leviathan within thirty miles of the coast, that sort of thing.¡± ¡°How does a leviathan being close threaten a town?¡± The teen asked bemusedly. ¡°Aren¡¯t they just like really big fish?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you quite grasp how much work ¡®really big¡¯ is doing in that statement. When you first see a leviathan you won¡¯t even register it as a living being, you¡¯ll just think you¡¯ve come in sight of land. They¡¯re tens of miles long, have armour so thick that nothing has ever penetrated it ¨C not in the entire history of Reath. Just the water displacement alone means a leviathan getting that close has every coastal town nearby is getting swamped, and that¡¯s ignoring its attendant species which are the real threat.¡± ¡°Do I even want to know?¡± Alec sighed. ¡°Probably not, but I¡¯ve started explaining so I might as well finish.¡± Mortimer stated. ¡°Leviathans can¡¯t go on land, but they¡¯ve developed a number of symbiotic relationships with other predator species which can and will retrieve food for them. Razor gulls are probably the most blatant threat, which is a shame as pretty much every ounce of the blighted things are a boon for alchemy. But there are a number of other threats ¨C some of them just fleeing the leviathan. Harpoon snails, titan whelks, landsharks...¡± His voice trailed off as he tried to think of more monsters from the deep. ¡°I have no idea what any of those are.¡± ¡°You will.¡± Mortimer promised. ¡°Knowing how to identify and break down a monster into its alchemically valuable parts is a vital skill, and one where Necropolis trained alchemists excel given the need to regularly handle bodies.¡± ¡°Potion¡¯s done.¡± Holly interjected, calmly pouring the lightly glowing steely tincture into a fresh bottle and stoppering it. ¡°Let me have a look.¡± Their teacher commanded, accepting the bottle and peering into the translucent liquid. ¡°Now this is very important. Under no circumstance do what you¡¯re about to see me do.¡± That said he removed the stopper and took a sniff, putting it down swiftly and restoppering it as a coughing fit overtook him. ¡°Yep, that¡¯s mixed correctly. Good job.¡± Holly raised an eyebrow at that display, the dryad wasn¡¯t an expert on these sorts of things but she was almost certain that huffing potion fumes wasn¡¯t the sort of thing that was even meant to need a warning. ¡°Are you okay?¡± ¡°Absolutely fantastic.¡± Mort assured them both, while covering his mouth to block out the occasional cough. ¡°Just checking you hadn¡¯t boiled it all into vinegar by accident. You¡¯re good.¡± ¡°Vinegar?¡± The dryad asked bemusedly. ¡°Oh yes, too much heat, or leave it exposed to the air long enough, and you¡¯re going to turn alcohol into vinegar.¡± He informed her as he handed back the phial, ¡°That¡¯s probably the hardest part of alchemy. Balancing the non-magical effects of what you¡¯re doing with them magical ones. Some alchemists have even begun ignoring the magical effects entirely, they¡¯re calling it chemy. Now let me review a few recipes and we¡¯ll decide what your next lesson should involve...¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 23 - A Lapse In Judgement, A Loss of Control ¡°This is a standard issue fire-blast, concussion pattern, wand with a Gardener-trigger. So if I say any of you waving them wildly around we will be having words after class. Note the use of white ash and tapered tip with a heat resistant varnish. Topaz mana reservoir in the base.¡± Inferno Jones told them, the crimson robed mage flourishing the wand in question. ¡°It can charge off of ambient mana, holds a maximum of thirty charges and still operates under mild null suppression. If any of you go into guard work or one of the response teams you¡¯ll be handling these a lot. Any questions?¡± The magical combat teacher was perhaps the most peppy of the teachers Alec and Holly had met, something of a surprise given he was also, at least visually, the oldest. Still for all that time had weathered his skin to a leathery lacquer that wouldn¡¯t have been out of place on a ghoul, and that the only reason his hair wasn¡¯t grey was that it was missing entirely, he was certainly spry. The old pyromancer had handed each of them a wand as they¡¯d entered the class, the same borderline barren room Vortigen had taught in the prior day, albeit now with a table just piled high with bullseye targets at the far end, the entire advanced stream of students arriving together for the first time since breakfast. Not everyone looked enthused at their new tool, Alicia in particular was holding it as it were diseased while Brin was just gently cradling it in his palm, the heavyset ogre¡¯s hand dwarfing the nearly foot long shaft of wood and trying to figure out how to grip it without snapping it in half. Hope was having the most trouble, the arachni settling on weaving a thin web around the wand that she was carefully tweaking with her pedipalps to direct the tip. ¡°I¡¯ve got a question.¡± Alicia declared. ¡°Just because the new students can¡¯t cast a spell to save their lives is no reason to coddle the rest of us.¡± ¡°That wasn¡¯t a question.¡± Jones noted, casually flipping the wand he was holding it before raising it almost too fast to follow to send a burst of fire past Alicia¡¯s ear to detonate on the wall with a whipcrack. ¡°If you think you¡¯re being coddled after all this time my dear then you simply haven¡¯t been paying attention.¡± To be fair to Alicia she hadn¡¯t so much as flinched, which spoke of either nerves of steel or that such demonstrations were a depressing regularity. ¡°Anyone want to tell me what was interesting about what I just did?¡± Jones asked, walking up and down the line of students as a hand and a foreleg slowly rose. ¡°Not you Brin.¡± The hand went back down. ¡°Let¡¯s hear it Hope.¡± ¡°Casting speed and trajectory. The casting was close to instant and the spell didn¡¯t waver as a mentally guided spell might.¡± ¡°Correct. Had I tried to guide that spell pulling off of my own casting, well I¡¯m not saying Alicia would be injured, but a trip to the barber¡¯s would likely be in order¡­ just for haircutting for clarity, not for injury.¡± Jones agreed. ¡°I won¡¯t say I haven¡¯t seen mages put together spells at that speed, or with that accuracy, but I will say that I wouldn¡¯t want to fight them. Does that answer your ¡®question¡¯ Alicia?¡± The old man going so far as to use finger-quotes with the click of semi-arthritic digits. ¡°Yes sir.¡± The aspiring necromancer replied coldly. ¡°Good. Also Hope if you try and cast like that you¡¯re going to set yourself on fire. Now any actual questions?¡± Cautiously Holly and Alec began to raise their hands before, at a glance from Holly, Alec lowered his, letting the dryad take the question. ¡°Yes¡­ Holly?¡± Inferno Jones asked, only pausing for half a second on the name of his new student. ¡°Alec and I can¡¯t-¡± ¡°Also not a question. And yes I¡¯m quite aware of your medical issues, the wands are precharged and take no mana to activate. If they run out just bring them to me to recharge. That goes for the rest of you as well, this isn¡¯t some trial of endurance or magicka pool, today¡¯s lesson is all about¡­ your AIM!¡± With that final word he smoothly took a small target from inside his robe and threw it into the air as he smoothly dived clear of any errant spells. Three bursts of flame crackled towards the target as it rose, two of them going wide as burning splinters cascaded down to the floor. ¡°Anesh, please stop holding the targets still so you can better line up your shot.¡± Jones ordered with dry exasperation as he rose to his feet, notably not even having looked back to see what had happened. ¡°It defeats the purpose of the exercise.¡± The student gave a defeated sigh, the scars on his hands losing their glow. ¡°You can¡¯t blame a guy for trying.¡± ¡°Perhaps not. But Archmage Merida certainly can and will.¡± ¡°Understood sir.¡± The terrified student assured him. ¡°Good. Now...¡± He walked over to the target table, ¡°do your best.¡± What followed was a lot of fire-blast spells and unsurprisingly very few broken targets. Perhaps the advanced students had good aim with their own offensive spells but the wands were apparently beyond them. The problems were easy to see for Alec and Holly, the quick shots meant they were leading the targets way too much, and the lack of arc on their trajectory, or wobble for that matter, meant that a lot of the blasts were going too high, except for Alicia¡¯s who having seen the probably was instead aiming too low. And those were just the students that were able to use their wands. Poor Hope was still trying to figure out how to hold her wand, the arachni finally settling for just webbing it to the end of one of her forelegs, making sure the tip was well past the rather hairy end so she wouldn¡¯t set herself on fire and awkwardly trying to direct it without the extra weight making it waver back and forth. So far she¡¯d not come within two feet of a target and had at least once shot the ceiling. But at least she¡¯d figured out how to actually fire the damned thing. Neither Alec or Holly had been able to find a trigger mechanism, a nodule to move or rune to heat or apply pressure to, and if there was an activation word then the other students could give masterclasses on ventriloquism with how little their lips were moving. ¡°Cease fire.¡± Jones ordered, as the first couple of wands ran out of charge. ¡°Everyone form a queue and hand your wand back for recharging.¡± The teacher addressing each of them as they waited for him to charge it. ¡°Kristos, it¡¯s not a damned arbalest, just aim straight. ¡°Anesh, it¡¯s a fast projectile, you don¡¯t need to lead it so much. ¡°Alicia, get out of your own head. ¡°Brin, stop being afraid of it. If it breaks it breaks. It¡¯s why Mortimer gets paid more than I do. ¡°Hope¡­ just keep trying. It¡¯s not fair but you¡¯re going to have to get used to handling standard artifacts. ¡°Alec and Holly¡­ is there a reason neither of you have attempted a shot yet?¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. A nudge from Holly let Alec know it was his turn to be subject of mentorly attention and disappointment. ¡°We haven¡¯t figured out how yet sir.¡± ¡°Ah. First time with a Gardener trigger?¡± Jones asked for confirmation, getting a nod in return. ¡°It¡¯s thought activated, technically thought and touch, as long as you¡¯re holding it you just have to make the decision to fire it and it will. Which is why it¡¯s vitally important you don¡¯t ever point it at something you don¡¯t want to blow up, you don¡¯t want an errant thought scattering someone across the room.¡± As Holly and Alec took their wands back it was a lot more gingerly than when they¡¯d handed them over, both rookie mages eventually settling for aiming the wands at the floor as they waited for permission to try again. ¡°You know, if we could still share thoughts we could cheat like crazy at this.¡± Holly observed softly as they waited. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to run this one past me cause I¡¯m not getting it.¡± Her soulbonded admitted, grip whiteknuckled on the wand. He doubted he could hit it on the first try but¡­ he wanted to. Badly. So far he¡¯d been more or less useless, unable to even do magic, this was his chance to prove himself good at something. ¡°Well if you use my eyes as well as yours you can line the shot up better with the added angle, and you can offload hearing and the other extra senses to me so you can focus better. And vice-¡± ¡°Fire in your own time!¡± Inferno Jones yelled as he began throwing. The first target did get destroyed but it was more by luck than judgement. It turned out when two fire-blasts hit each other midair the explosion was rather large, at least comparatively. Alec¡¯s ears were ringing as he cautiously got back to his feet where the air had buffeted him to the floor, automatically helping Holly up as he surveyed the rest of the gym. Brin had kept to his feet, though he was bleeding slightly where splinters had torn into him, the ogre¡¯s incredible vitality meant it looked a lot worse than it was, the cuts already starting to heal as the ogre focused a little bit of magic into his wounds. On the other end of the scale Hope, as the most lightweight and least flexible, had been thrown all the way to the stone wall, managing to crack one of her legs which she was wordlessly binding with her webbing as sticky blue-green haemolmyph oozed through it before she gingerly rose to her feet, injured leg staying off the floor. Everyone else was fine beyond a couple bruises as they lined back up without having to be told, Alec and Holly following belatedly. Merida hadn¡¯t been kidding about the Necropolis earning its attrition rate, one shard of wood through an eyeball and they¡¯d have transitioned from student to class project. The next target survived its way across the gym as a fresh set of scorch marks appeared on the walls behind it with Alec still holding his shot, just aiming the wand and tracking it as even Holly tried to blast it just blast it, both her shots just slightly too late. Weirdly the dryad seemed to have an advantage over the more experienced students, not having years of casting their own spells to bias their aim and instincts. A third target was thrown, with a fourth following it moments after. Only the former made it to the end of the gym, Alicia managing to land a glancing shot on its fellow that still shattered it to splinters. And still Alec didn¡¯t fire. ¡°Nicely done Alicia.¡± Jones said calmly. ¡°Now try and get both at once.¡± This time, finally, Alec struck. He¡¯d carefully been watching how fast the bolts went, how far people were leading the targets. But he¡¯d miscalculated, thought triggers might be fast but he¡¯d never used one before, the shot a half second too late where his hesitation had cost him. And his frustration meant that the three follow up shots, whilst commendably fast, missed by over a foot. The only consolation was that noone else landed a shot either. Another chance at competence blown, the teenager visibly seething as he gritted his teeth to wait for the next throw. This time he didn¡¯t bother trying to nail it in a single shot, everyone else actually stopping fire as he just emptied every charge in the wand in just a few seconds with an infuriated growl, using the shots to adjust and taking out before takings, as well as heating leaving some dents in the wall. ¡°Nicely done Alec of Reath.¡± Inferno Jones whistled. ¡°Not what I had in mind and certainly not something I¡¯d recommend outside of an emergency, but there really is no arguing with success. Though I will admit I wasn¡¯t expecting you to be the first to break their wand.¡± It was only then that Alec, still panting as he came down from the adrenaline high of his rage, noticed just how hot his hands were. The tip of the wand had exploded and some of the wood was visibly charred all the way to the base, Alec dropping the wand before his fingers got more than just reddened. The concerning bit was that even Holly was looking at him askance. Damn it but he wished they could still share thoughts, things had been strangely easier when he¡¯d had someone who could advise him in real-time unnoticed. But he¡¯d screwed that up too. Not alone admittedly, but he¡¯d still contributed more than his fair share to that debacle, because again he¡¯d lost his temper. This could be a problem¡­ * Izekiel ¡®Inferno¡¯ Jones was a veteran pyromancer. Not a once in a generation talent able to hold back the depredations of time by his power alone but experienced enough that when time had begun to claw at him he¡¯d had options. A master of fire, he might not have been able to do the backstroke in the Vulcanis magma chamber like some but he could have happily stood in a bonfire without stress or fear. Which was how he knew the sweat trickling down his brow had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature in the room. He¡¯d thought he¡¯d been quite clever introducing the two new students with some wand practice, it was indeed an important skill for a mage. One that the advanced stream seldom got to practice given the general disdain for tools that was instilled in them and he¡¯d figured the mutual unfamiliarity would level the playing field to the point where they wouldn¡¯t feel so inadequate as to be a problem ¨C young Holly had certainly impressed him with her performance. Alec on the other hand¡­ Alec had scared him. There was a long and storied discussion on whether temperament influenced magic or magic influenced temperament, and Jones didn¡¯t have an opinion either way. What he did know was that, from the moment the teenager had blown up the wand provided, every instinct he had was screaming that Alec was no necromancer but a volatile pyromancer on the verge of detonating ¨C possibly literally. Necromancers by contrast were renowned for their even tempers, as well as an unhealthy appetite for apathy. It made them resilient to a fault. The Necropolis had suffered siege so often in its past that there was an official chart of in what order its residents should begin eating each other. It also made them slow to respond and even slower to change. The Necropolis was, in Inferno Jones opinion, a poor place for someone like Alec. But that was the job. As he got them all to queue up for a fresh recharge, Jones handed over one of the spare wands to Alec, accepting the charred ruin in return, ¡°Now if you lose your temper and destroy this one too you¡¯ll be watching everyone else for the rest of the lesson.¡± He warned sternly, relaxing slightly as the teenager gave him a slightly embarrassed ¡°yes sir¡± in response. ¡°Then I¡¯ll say no more on it. Just focus on accuracy from here on out, and don¡¯t be so afraid to miss. If you never risk anything you¡¯ll never improve.¡± He told the lad without any real heat. The last thing you did with volatile materials afterall was expose them to fire. Still he felt bad, not for Alec, but for Hope. In a normal lesson he¡¯d have assigned Brin to throw the targets while he fetched a healer for her leg, the ogre had a hell of a throwing arm and was good natured enough not to mind missing out on his own practice and diligent enough to catch up in his free time so often filled in as assistant when needed. It wasn¡¯t entirely fair but Jones, and a number of the other teachers, weren¡¯t about to change things. Reliable help was hard to find with advanced students and Inferno Jones had often wondered what genius had decided that grouping together the eclectics and mavericks was a good idea. He¡¯d never voiced that particular complaint though, on the grounds that it was probably Merida. Still now he was aware that his newest student had a deep well of rage simmering away he was at least able to keep an eye out, and as the lesson ground on with no further incidents beyond Alicia finally managing to nail both targets relax a little further. * ¡°Do you want to talk about it?¡± Holly broached gently as they walked back to their shared room. Neither of them had liked the side-eye they¡¯d been getting from their classmates during dinner, and it hadn¡¯t taken a psychic link for them decide to abscond with a bowlful of a delightfully rich stew for Alec to slowly work his way through. That was the bit that was really concerning Holly. She¡¯d seen the teenager through some fairly high highs and low lows, and not once had his appetite wavered. Hells above and below she¡¯d watched him eat bread so hard that the only bits that were chewable were the parts with mould on them, so to watch him just staring into his stew as if it might speak the secrets of the universe was unsettling. Von Mori¡¯s oaths but she wished she hadn¡¯t wrecked the bond between them, language was such a crude way of telling how another was feeling compared to simply darting across their shared soul to take a peak. And so much faster besides. Instead she was forced to wait a torturous handful of seconds as it seemed that Alec hadn¡¯t even heard her before the teenager slowly looked up in response. ¡°No.¡± And just like that he was back to staring. Once again Holly was glad she didn¡¯t have to eat. If she did she was pretty sure she felt sick enough that she¡¯d throw up. Oathmaker - Chapter 24 - Rule One of Fighting Monsters ¡°You caused poor Jones quite a scare yesterday.¡± Merida told Alec as the boy sputtered for breath. ¡°He wants you sent to Vulcanus. The idiot.¡± The archmage waited for a response before realising that Alec was still far too focused on breathing after his first dunking of the morning. So she pushed him back down. Cold eyes regarding him as he stared back up at her through the mana-saturated water. He¡¯d stopped struggling. Which was impressive in its own right. It took a lot of willpower not to fight back when being drowned, she could attest to that personally, the desire to live was so strong, sometimes at the worst possible moments ¨C like when trying to play dead when being held under the lake by a pair of street toughs who¡¯d been paid handsomely to remove an irritating elf who asked far too many questions. That was one thing she was growing to dislike, how impressed she was by Erebus¡¯ chosen apprentices. She didn¡¯t want to like them. She wanted to kill them¡­ or at least wanted to want to kill them. She¡¯d pondered why Erebus would do something as reckless as leave his proteges in her hands. Three days ago she¡¯d have called it arrogance, as if she would be afraid of offending a rival with some casual murder. Now she was sure of the archmage¡¯s true motive, and equally sure she¡¯d underestimated just how insidious the famously forthright necromancer could be when he chose. Because he¡¯d known she¡¯s see in them what he had, that she wouldn¡¯t be able to turn down the chance to correct the mistakes of her past, the verminous cretin. It was almost enough to make her kill them both out of spite. Almost. Finally she let Alec up for air, and to continue their rather one-sided conversation. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure you¡¯d turn up today. If you¡¯d decided to just forego magic I wouldn¡¯t have tracked you down, frankly you wouldn¡¯t have been worth the time if I¡¯d needed to.¡± ¡°Why are you tell-¡± She pushed him back down, slowly counting down in her head as she watched him with a pleased smile. If only more of her conversations could be like this she¡¯d be able to get so much more done. ¡°He¡¯s right though that the rage is an issue. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll fix it. You aren¡¯t the first traumatised child we¡¯ve had to work with, you won¡¯t be the last.¡± Merida reassured him as she met his panicked eyes as he fought his natural urge to breath. She wasn¡¯t sure how well he could hear her beneath the water, especially with his heartbeat doubtlessly pounding in his ears, but she¡¯d find out. And back up. ¡°I¡¯m not-¡± And back down. ¡°It would be weirder if you weren¡¯t.¡± She told him. ¡°It¡¯s not entirely your fault of course. The debrief team were all so busy congratulating themselves on nabbing both of Erebuses¡¯ apprentices for Necropolis training they wouldn¡¯t have noticed.¡± And she¡¯d be finding out the names and addresses of the fools involved. Not because she cared about Alec and Holly, which she begrudgingly would admit she was beginning to, but because that sort of incompetence that high up in the Joint Response Task Force was something that could imperil entire cities unchecked. She was perhaps being a bit harsh, the pencilpushers in charge of debriefing Second Response mages were not used to dealing with child survivors, for the simple reason they weren¡¯t used to dealing with any survivors. By the time Second Response got called in they were lucky to find enough remains of the First Response team to arrange for burial or reanimation. The typical Second Response debriefing involved either a matter of fact report while an embittered mage tried to kill with just their eyes, flagrant lying or a level of detail that was just shy of ¡®we arrived, we killed the threat, we left¡¯. Dealing with traumatized people just wasn¡¯t in their remit when their charges tended to come pre-traumatized. It was easy to forget that while people were assets, assets were also people. It took a rare mind to hold that duality and still order people to their deaths. ¡°I said I¡¯m not-¡± And back down. ¡°The real tragedy here is that you¡¯re the lesser talent. Don¡¯t get me wrong, you¡¯re going to be a powerful mage in your own right in time, but Holly is by far the better prospect. More levelheaded, more cautious. Rightfully the time I¡¯m spending on you is time I should be spending on her.¡± Merida continued, apparently intent on just making her inner monologue someone else¡¯s problem. ¡°Then-¡± ¡°Of course she¡¯d die without you, so we¡¯ve got to whip you into shape enough that you aren¡¯t a liability.¡± The archmage mused, letting him up for a proper breath. This time Alec didn¡¯t even try to get a word in before he was pushed back beneath the surface. ¡°Good talk.¡± Merida told him with a cold smile. * Holly was suffering through yet another lesson close quarters fighting. The dryad had to admire the irony, this sort of physical thuggery had always been Alec¡¯s forte, not hers, and yet here she was practicing how to hit people with a stick while her host, by all accounts, got to just soak in what was for all intents a bath of liquid mana. Master Vee had her practicing more than a single strike today at least, a couple of blocks followed by a counter that she was required to do slowly again and again as the ghoul tried to zero in on what her body was capable of, and whatever insights he¡¯d drawn he wasn¡¯t sharing, not yet. The one bright side was that she was able to pay attention to the actual lesson taking place, and watching the ghoul in action was something to behold. ¡°What, class, is the golden rule of fighting magical creatures?¡± He said, the other students knelt opposite him on the smooth stone floor. The gymnasium walls also free of the damage inflicted on them the prior day. ¡°Don¡¯t let them touch you.¡± They chorused back in a single voice. ¡°Correct. Before all else you are mages. What you learn here in this class will only be applicable when things have gone horribly wrong, and they will go horribly wrong. Every supernatural predator that walks the face of Reath is faster and stronger than you¡­ with the possible exception of Brin¡­ and they will not hesitate to take advantage of that. Most will not be polite enough to challenge you to a duel. It will happen in the dark. By ambush. By surprise. Often the only warning you will get will be a vague sense of unease, if that. ¡°I know some of you doubt the efficacy of a class where magic is not permitted. Let me assure you, there will be no time for a spell. No time for thought. You must be able to react, and react perfectly. And you won¡¯t get a chance to try again if you get it wrong. ¡°We¡¯ll do this exercise one at a time. I want you all to watch and learn from each other¡¯s mistakes. Brin you first. We¡¯ll start twenty metres apart.¡± The ogre got to his feet with a heavy sigh. ¡°Master Vee, why Brin always first? Just because can take beating don¡¯t mean want to.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯d better learn to like it.¡± The ghoul said heartlessly. ¡°You Brin are one of the rare few who can turn a battle on its head. There¡¯s nothing more gut-wrenching that watching the best among you get taken out by overwhelming force, and there¡¯s nothing more inspiring than watching them get back up again. You, more than anyone else here, must learn to be indomitable.¡± The ogre grimaced but nodded, plodding over to face their teacher and putting his fists up in a fairly tight boxer¡¯s stance. Vortigern Vee didn¡¯t give any warning, just striking like a serpent as he ate the distance between them in a single bound, a clawed hand turning into a fist at the last moment as he went to drive it into Brin¡¯s stomach. The ogre blocked it, barely, hunching and lowering his guard to take the blow on his forearms with a heavy and meaty thwack that echoed across the crude gymnasium before he lashed out with a jab like a pneumatic piston, following up with a rising knee that would have winded an elephant. Neither blow even came close. The old ghoul was just too fast and too agile, ducking under the punches and casually stepping back from any kicks, all the while putting in blows that Brin was forced to take on his increasingly bruised arms as the ogre changed tactics, trying to bullrush the undead monster. It was a good call. Brin¡¯s only real advantage was his strength, if he could just grab the ghoul he¡¯d have a chance. But it wasn¡¯t to be, Vortigern simply sidestepping the rush to put a punch into Brin¡¯s short ribs before returning to laying blows that would have shattered Holly¡¯s ribs into his arms until finally the poor ogre¡¯s guard dropped and the ghoul¡¯s uppercut carried him several feet across the room to crash heavily to the ground. Stolen novel; please report. Holly had thought that was an end to it, and so it seemed did Vortigern Vee, the ghoul half-turning to direct the class before turning back as, with a groan, Brin slowly rose to a knee, and then, somewhat shakily, to his feet, wiping blood from his lips with the back of his hand as the ogre forced a grin. ¡°Good lad.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lot of praise, but it was sincere. This time Brin didn¡¯t let his teacher take the initiative, charging the ghoul with a bellow of hopefully faux-rage, arms wide to give him the best possible chance of grabbing the smaller but faster fighter. ¡°Enough Brin.¡± Master Vee snapped sharply, the ogre halting his charge in just a few steps. With a smile their teacher walked up to him and patted him on the upper arm, the shoulder out of reach. ¡°Sorry to ruin your moment but I¡¯d have had to hurt you there. You did well, but stop letting me dictate the pace. You shouldn¡¯t need to get angry to seize the initiative.¡± ¡°Yes Master Vee.¡± Brin nodded slowly, bowing low to him before he stomped back to his place in the line, between Alicia and Hope ¨C though the arachni¡¯s best attempt at kneeling really was just curling her legs in on herself. ¡°Kristos, you¡¯re up next.¡± The ghoul said, the faeblood rising up with uncanny fluidity, a confident smile on his too handsome face. ¡°Are we permitted weapons for this?¡± He said, going so far as to face away from their teacher, hands resting nonchalantly at his sides. ¡°If you think you can draw them in time.¡± Master Vee allowed bemusedly, a twinkle in his glassy eyes. ¡°And we are simulating ambush yes?¡± Kristos double-checked, still not facing the ghoul. ¡°Indeed. I admire your commitment to the premise but you might be sabotaging yourself here.¡± He warned, undead flesh tensed to strike. He was giving Kristos a bit more distance to start with than he¡¯d given Brin, about half again, though Holly was in no doubt after the last display that he¡¯d be able to cross in a single bound just as easily. The faeblood didn¡¯t reply, letting out a long breath that fogged when it met the air. Master Vee gave no further warnings. One moment stood still, the next an unliving missile aimed at Kristos¡¯ back. Holly didn¡¯t know how Kristos knew it was coming but unlike Brin he didn¡¯t just take the blow. The faeblood took a moment to give Holly a wink before he took two steps forwards and drew his blade, driving the scabbard back hard, smoothly unclipping it from his belt, to slam the blunt tip into the airborne ghoul before pivoting off of his back foot to bring his blade down to try and bisect their teacher down the middle. Vortigern caught it bare handed, fingers clasping so hard on the metal that it came to a complete stop before it could cut deep into his flesh while striking with his spare hand, only to abort the blow as he ducked low under the sheathe as Kristos tried to brain him with it. Both strikes a single fluid movement, no wasted movement, no hesitation. Kristos¡¯ backswing with the sheathe was the same but this time Master Vee was ready for it, catching it with his spare hand, the two staring at each other as they struggled for the weapons. ¡°You know where this is going.¡± The old ghoul said with a smirk, calm and conversational as he slowly redirected the blade back towards its owner. ¡°Yeah. I know.¡± Kristos¡¯ words were clipped, forced out through gritted teeth as he strained, arms shaking with the effort needed to keep his own blade away from his throat. Then he let go, ducking under the suddenly unwieldy swing of their offbalance teacher to tackle him to the floor, raining punches down upon him. The faeblood¡¯s advantage didn¡¯t last, Vortigern just grabbing him by the throat and lifting him bodily off of him as he rose to his feet as Kristos tried to drive kicks into the teacher¡¯s ribs, not even bothering to try and break the iron grip on his throat ¨C he knew a lost cause when he saw one. ¡°What were your mistakes?¡± The old ghoul asked as he gently set his pupil back on his feet before letting go. ¡°Bringing a sword to a monster fight.¡± Kristos tried to quip, his croaking voice betraying him as he rubbed at his throat. ¡°No. That at least you did well in.¡± Vortigern answered smoothly. ¡°When you took me to the floor, what was your goal?¡± ¡°Not getting my throat opened on my own blade?¡± Kristos retorted. ¡°So you instead took a much faster and stronger opponent to the floor and then wasted your sole remaining advantage, that of leverage, by trying to punch unconscious a ghoul. At least try and break an arm, it¡¯s not going to work but it would at least be something.¡± ¡°Yeah yeah¡­ you just wait old man. I¡¯ll get you next time.¡± The faeblood grumbled, giving the teacher a shallow bow as he stalked off. ¡°The day you pose a threat young Kristos is the day I stop letting you enter my class with a live blade. Now¡­ Alicia, you¡¯re up.¡± The necromancer silently moved to face her teacher, hands raised and ready. Certainly Vortigern took her as a more serious threat than Kristos, giving her the same twenty metre gap he¡¯d given Brin. Alicia¡¯s weapon of choice it turned out were a pair of long knives, the young woman sliding her cloak off her as the ghoul leapt to throw it over Vortigern to reveal the blades, sidestepping to draw and plunge them down towards the entangled teacher¡¯s back. At least that had been the plan, the necromancer not expecting Vortigern to snatch the cloak out of the air, roll to his feet and throw it over his rather distressed pupil as she wildly put several holes in her own cloak as she fought her way free. Master Vee didn¡¯t make any further moves to attack, he didn¡¯t need to as Alicia gave only a cursory bow then glumly walked back to the line. ¡°It wasn¡¯t a bad plan.¡± The ghoul said gently. ¡°A lot of monsters would have been quite helpless, but you¡¯ve got to remember that the old monsters have seen it all a dozen times before. You won¡¯t beat them with cheap tricks, especially one that telegraphed, only technique will save you in your time of need. Though you could have had me if you¡¯d been a bit smarter about it, just draw one knife next time, you didn¡¯t need two and you could have drawn it the same time you drew the cloak.¡± Alicia nodded stiffly, still looking like she¡¯d just tried to down a glass of lemon juice. Holly couldn¡¯t see why she was taking it so badly, Kristos had barely lasted a couple of seconds longer. As far as could tell the point wasn¡¯t even to win. There was no way Vortigern would let that happen with live steel in play, the point was to just have a response. To not freeze when an apex predator surged towards you with murderous intent. ¡°Anesh, your turn.¡± Of the four up so far the ritually scarred apprentice was the most nervous as he slowly walked over, dragging it out as if he could avoid the inevitable. Which was why it surprised her when Master Vee only gave him a fifteen metre gap, the old ghoul¡¯s eyes narrowed as he prepared to leap. Holly wouldn¡¯t realise what happened until she¡¯d had a chance to replay it in her head a few times. One moment the two had been facing off. The next Master Vee was on the floor with two knives embedded in his chest and Anesh¡¯s rapier at his throat. Belatedly the dryad realised the teen had drawn and thrown a pair of knives from somewhere about his person, launching them underarm to lodge in undead flesh. ¡°Nicely done.¡± The ghoul said, grinning to show too-sharp teeth. ¡°It was simple enough after watching you do it three times.¡± His student said, waving off the compliment as he helped his teacher back to his feet, Vortigern returning the knives with a slightly wet squelch. ¡°Plus rule two, of course.¡± Clearly that meant something to the class going from the collective groan of realisation, Kristos noting Holly¡¯s uncomprehending look from the corner where she was meant to be practicing. ¡°Rule one is don¡¯t let them touch you. Rule two is that, unless it¡¯s got wings, it can¡¯t change direction once airborne. A lot of supernatural predators like to leap, and it¡¯s the moment when they¡¯re vulnerable.¡± ¡°Ghouls included. Though it¡¯s also the moment where a large apex predator is moving towards you at speed so it¡¯s rather important not to miss, as young Anesh admirably demonstrated.¡± Master Vee added. ¡°Now for our final student¡­ Holly please come up.¡± Holly nearly dropped her staff on her foot, ¡°Me?¡± She all but squeaked, fully convinced this was a punishment for not paying attention to her own exercise. ¡°Sh-shouldn¡¯t Hope be going next? I¡¯m not even technically in the same class...¡± ¡°Hope For A New Dawn can¡¯t take part in this exercise.¡± Vortigern said solemnly. ¡°Arachni don¡¯t bruise, we break.¡± Hope explained with concerning cheer, her injured leg on close inspection still bound in webbing. ¡°And I can¡¯t hold a weapon¡­ and venom doesn¡¯t work on undead. Well arachni venom doesn¡¯t at least. There is literally nothing I can do to him in this exercise.¡± ¡°But I still don¡¯t-¡± ¡°Holly will be fine.¡± Brin rumbled. ¡°Master Vee quite gentle.¡± So spoke the one student who¡¯d had his arms pounded into mince, though maybe that really was gentle where the big ogre was concerned. ¡°Quite.¡± Master Vee said as Holly walked over to the spot opposite with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man. At least she got the full thirty metres. ¡°Should I face away or um¡­ if we¡¯re simulating an ambush what should I do with the staff?¡± Holly queried, awkwardly holding the shaft of wood away from her. ¡°You¡¯re training to be a mage aren¡¯t you? The beauty of the staff is that there¡¯s really no way to hide or sheathe it, and thus you don¡¯t have to worry about clearing a scabbard. On the other hand anyone trying to jump you knows you¡¯re a mage, so that comes with its own host of advantages and disadvantages. I¡¯ve known some masterful staff-fighters who walked around with unbearably gaudy staves, their opponents were so braced for spells that they forgot how to handle being bludgeoned. My advice¡­ just hit me with it. If you can.¡± Holly swallowed nervously as she raised her weapon, waiting for the jump. She had no real expectation of landing a blow, and she doubted anyone else expected it of her either. Just not totally embarrassing herself would suffice. Then Vortigern was upon her, nowhere near as fast as he¡¯d been with the other students, the leap taking a much higher trajectory and stopping just short, his claws lashing out twice, and to her shock she parried both blows before whipping the tip towards the ghoul¡¯s head, which he unsurprisingly stepped back from. An almost automatic copy of the same movement she¡¯d spent half the class practicing before stepping forwards for the overhead strike from yesterday. Master Vee calmly caught it and pulled the staff from her grasp. ¡°Good. You didn¡¯t freeze. And we have our answer on whether dryads can build reflexes. It¡¯s still early days but I think I can start training you properly now.¡± ¡°Thank you sir.¡± Holly said cautiously, bowing low before heading back towards her little corner of the gym. And then hurrying back to retrieve her staff, cheeks a deep green with an embarrassment not helped at all by the way she¡¯d just held up the entire class. Still¡­ maybe she wasn¡¯t completely useless with weapons afterall. Oathmaker - Chapter 25 - A Most Polite Kidnapping The Archmage of Myriad Arts took a calming breath as she watched the door to her empty classroom, wondering just when Alec and Holly would get there. Not because she was nervous. Nervousness was beneath the millenia old elf, which was why she was merely experiencing trepidation. History was not a subject Merida normally taught. There were a number of very good reasons for this fact. First and foremost that the usual history teacher had been in the role so long that they¡¯d even taught her. Secondly that if she wanted an exercise in clinical boredom she could just as happily drunk a potion to achieve similar effects and thus do it in relative comfort. The third reason, and in many ways the biggest one, was that she tended to argue with the history books, a lot. Sometimes it was small things, like how many troops were present and who won¡­ and sometimes it was something larger like the fact that while technically the third battle for Emereth had been stopped by the storm, the storm in question had been brought by a rather angry Velerethex the lightning dragon who¡¯d been woken by the noise. Given that the location of dragons, at least those from the time of the gods, were a deeply guarded secret somehow that had escaped the history books entirely, and, Merida imagined, at great expense. It had taken her quite a while to figure out why dragons were so protected given their multitude of uses in alchemy, their vast stores of wealth and knowledge and their tendency not to play nice with others. It had been quite perplexing until she¡¯d realised the flying lizards were just too tempting of a target, exerting what bordered on a selection pressure as idiots of all creeds clamoured to slay them, and while Merida was not morally opposed to letting natural selection take its course, optimistic idiots were a valuable resource that she would far rather spend herself. Which was why she was going to enjoy teaching Alec and Holly history. Not the optimistic idiots part, at least not necessarily, but they¡¯d seen and learned just enough of the secrets of Reath that trying to teach them the official story was an idea not just dead and buried but that had also had the entire graveyard paved and turned into flats. Admittedly she was still going to have to teach the official version of events alongside the (mostly) accurate version to prevent them accidentally contaminating their classmates. Poor Mortimer was having to forego sleep to make enough memory blank spheres with the rate they were using the damned things, including one of the spheres that had been allocated to her. Given she had no memory of the event it was rather driving her mad, her mind grappling with the idea that she¡¯d stumbled across something even she didn¡¯t believe she should know. But down that path lay madness¡­ and it wasn¡¯t a long path. It was also embarrassing, especially given the use of such supplies was a matter of record. She was supposed to be unflappable, one of the beating hearts of the Necropolis, nothing was supposed to be off-limits to her so what could possibly- She cut the thought off sharply. It really was a very short path, and Holly and Alec were certainly not helping with their tardiness. That thought was another that got more than a standard prickling from the hairs on the back of Merida¡¯s neck. If forced to describe her new students, lackadaisical was not the first thought that came to mind. It was possible they¡¯d just gotten lost¡­ in a building that actively ensured people got to where they were headed¡­ * Alec was not having a good day. Scratch that he was having a decidedly bad day. It had taken more than he¡¯d ever confess to, not even to Holly, to walk to his treatment today. So to have being monologued at, and belittled besides, in addition to being repeatedly drowned to the point he was having to cough up water, had not done much for his already prickly temper. Of course the truly infuriating part had been how Merida, the psychopathic archmage, a woman who had literally argued for him to be killed, had been so terribly understanding. Talking about how they would get him counselling, how it wasn¡¯t unusually to react with rage when feeling powerless, how it wasn¡¯t his fault¡­ Frankly if she¡¯d been trying to make him angry she couldn¡¯t have done a better job, and he wasn¡¯t totally convinced she hadn¡¯t been. At least he¡¯d been spelled dry before he left this time. The truth was he¡¯d always had a temper. Like the time Hazel had carefully coaxed a woodpecker to nest in his boughs, he¡¯d stripped about half the bark off her tree before Beech had pulled him away. Or the time Hawthorn had found out he had woodworm and he¡¯d clawed the witch¡¯s face so badly she still had scars. So despite what Merida said he was fairly sure it wasn¡¯t a trauma response. The teen was interrupted from his dark musings to find his path obstructed. Six necromancers had intercepted him at an intersection, and given they¡¯d managed to box him in from all three directions the idea it was accidental was laughable, especially given just how rare seeing other people in the corridors was. Alec had his suspicions as to why other people were so rare when in transit. At minimum the Necropolis did not conform to its external dimensions, and the great blackstoned fortress had been large in its own right. Combine that with the spell that Brin had told Holly about, that apparently clouded the perceptions of people there, and Alec was fairly sure that people were being diverted through different paths to any given location within the Necropolis. Despite necromantic melodrama being almost a given, he suspected that wasn¡¯t the real reason walks in the Necropolis were lonely by default. Rather than an aid to melancholy he suspected the spell was a traffic calming measure gone wrong. The first big clue had been the size of the advanced class. While he wasn¡¯t a statistician, the idea that there were currently only seven students over the half a continent that the Necropolis could recruit from that warranted some extra attention was ludicrous on the face of it. Which meant that not many people were choosing to become necromancers, and what necromancers there were were mostly out there in the world actually doing things. The Necropolis itself lay all but empty, and seeming all the emptier for spells doing their job long past the point they were useful. Which meant when six mages just happened to block your path in three different directions it wasn¡¯t a coincidence. Alec¡¯s first instinct was, as always, to fight. But that was a hopeless endeavor. His second, to run, was equally pointless, especially when a check over his shoulder showed a duo of similarly sour-faced necromancers advancing from the only available direction. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. The only silver lining was that he recognised one of the mages in front of him. Slayer Arrabelle had at the very least earned some forbearance. Alec didn¡¯t fully, or if he were honestly mildly, understand Necropolis politics, but he had figured out that the elderly woman had gone to bat for him in a big way with her and her entire order essentially threatening to throw down if he or Holly were harmed. ¡°Apprentice Alec of Respite.¡± The old lady began, voice clear and strong, ¡°The Slayers of Death require your presence. We bid you, come with us.¡± ¡®Well at least this wasn¡¯t going to be an outright kidnapping,¡¯ Alec thought dryly, still not liking the way he was being crowded in. ¡°And if I choose not to?¡± ¡°Then we will, I am afraid to say, insist.¡± Arrabelle admitted, a flush of shame crossing her wrinkled features. ¡°If it helps, we intend you no harm. But the information you have is just too important to us.¡± So it was in fact a kidnapping, just a very polite one. ¡°I have my first history class to get to...¡± The teenager tried weakly. ¡°Perhaps we could arrange another time?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡± Arrabelle said, fishing into her pockets to remove a blindfold. ¡°Put that on.¡± Reluctantly Alec took the blindfold. There really weren¡¯t many other options, if he fought them he¡¯d likely just be bodily carried. He began to put on the blindfold when a new sound caught his attention, the rather distressingly familiar clank, clank, clank of steel boots on stone as a panting paladin rounded the corner. ¡°Alec of Respite, you do not need to go with them!¡± The newcomer yelled before hunching over, hands on his greaves as he desperately tried to catch his breath. The paladin¡¯s presence was not a welcome one, not even for Alec. Having your entire village wiped out as a pretext for murdering your mentor tended not to endear people to political organisations. The Slayers of Death were if anything less impressed than Alec. They hadn¡¯t even bothered reaching for their weapons. Arrabelle, their chosen speaker, smiling with patently false warmth at the man as she said smoothly, ¡°Ambassador, this is an internal Necropolis matter. Of no interest to the Holy Paladin Order I assure you.¡± The paladin, still puffing, nodded. ¡°Certainly. But that doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not my business.¡± As he approached Alec could see that his armour wasn¡¯t quite fitting, a little tight just about everywhere, especially around the middle. Hells, some of it even had spots of rust where it hadn¡¯t been properly tended to. That and he just looked like crap, the man¡¯s hair an auburn knot of Gordian proportions. He was haggard, unshaved, his skin greasy and the bags under his eyes were deep enough to be used for shopping. Arrabelle¡¯s eyes narrowed to a full glare, the Slayers by some unspoken signal moving to form a wall to block Alec from sight. In theory he could have run now, but he knew the open corridors might as well be an illusion. They had magic and he did not. And besides, part of him wanted to see how this played out. ¡°You can¡¯t possibly hope to fight us.¡± The Slayer told him coldly, a hint of concern entering her eyes at the paladin¡¯s smile. Well it was debatable if it was a smile, certainly his lips pulled back to show his teeth. ¡°I can¡¯t hope to fight you and win¡± He corrected them, ¡°but that¡¯s fine. Cowards seldom win anyway. And killing me would make quite the diplomatic incident.¡± His expression softened slightly, from sheer granite to mere concrete as he looked past the Slayers to Alec. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go with them if you don¡¯t want to Alec.¡± ¡°The Necropolis has dealt with such incidents before. You would not be the first ambassador to just¡­ disappear.¡± Arrabelle threatened. Yet despite that she still backed away slightly from the still advancing knight. ¡°Nor would I be the last. Rest assured that Neia knows exactly where I am, and exactly what I¡¯m doing. My disappearance would not stay unsolved for long.¡± ¡°Karatas¡­ why are you doing this? You aren¡¯t well.¡± The Slayer tried for empathy, indicating his sunken eyes and gaunt features. ¡°Am I not?¡± The paladin laughed, a dark bitter sound he almost choked on, ¡°And why should I be well? What right do I have to be well when so many of my friends lie dead from my cowardice? You will not take the boy Arrabelle.¡± That certainly seemed to stump the Slayer. She and her cadre had been prepared for a a wide array of opposition, up to and including Ackeron or Merida, but a depressed and possibly suicidal paladin diplomat had not been on their bingo card. ¡°We are at an impasse.¡± Karatas noted, striking while he had what passed for the momentum. ¡°And violence serves you nought. I propose a compromise.¡± That served to foul Arrabelle¡¯s composure even further. The Slayers of Death was not an order known for diplomacy, if anything their forthright ultimatum to the Necropolis¡¯ leadership was unusually subtle and underhanded. Karatas on the other hand was the longest serving ambassador the Holy Paladin Order had sent. Being drawn onto his battlefield over their own could only end in disaster, but what choice had they? ¡°What do you envision?¡± The old woman sighed, clearly still mentally debating the pros and cons of trying to dispose of a body at short notice. ¡°That first we ask Alec what he wants.¡± Karatas suggested softly before snorting out a laugh, ¡°By all the fallen gods, did it ever once occur to you to just ask him to meet up at a later date?¡± Evidently it hadn¡¯t, Arrabelle and her cohort looking shellshocked at the idea, provoking another, more bitter laugh from Karatas. ¡°Well lad, what do you want?¡± It was a surprisingly complex question. Certainly he knew the answer he should give was that he wanted to go to his class, and learning about the history of Reath was, to the future shock of his teachers, enticing to the teen. After living most of his life in an information vacuum where the only information considered useful was either how to mill flour and bake bread, or how to select good pieces of the highly valuable Forest Von Mori deadwood, with a smattering of just enough paladin teachings to avoid be considered part of their cultural milieu, learning actual history, admittedly coloured by a necromantic perspective, was something he¡¯d been looking forwards to. But it wasn¡¯t magic, and, while he didn¡¯t know what the Slayers of Death wanted, and daylight kidnapping wasn¡¯t doing much to endear them to him, Alec had to acknowledge that he likely owed them his life. Admittedly he¡¯d been acknowledging this from the moment he¡¯d seen Arrabelle, but it was one of those facts that bore repeating. Most importantly, he was curious. The Slayers seemed like an organisation that took themselves seriously, and their name rather gave away their purpose. The idea that he could help them in some fashion was borderline farcical, so he couldn¡¯t help wonder what had convinced them otherwise. The most probable answer was they wanted a blow-by-blow of the fight between Erebus and Tza¡¯rahlitzek, hoping to glean some technique by which the archmage had managed to wound the divine. In which case he¡¯d have to decline on the grounds of being murdered being bad for his health. But it couldn¡¯t hurt to find out for sure. Probably. ¡°I think I¡¯ll go with them.¡± He said slowly, drawing the words out as if hoping to be interrupted. Karatas merely nodded. ¡°As long as you¡¯re sure. And I¡¯ll tag along to ensure fair play.¡± Finally Arrabelle recovered. ¡°That will be quite impossible. Our sanctum is not to be seen by outsiders, let alone the likes of you, ambassador.¡± ¡°And what about me do you find so objectionable?¡± Karatas asked softly. ¡°It can¡¯t be my affiliation, you¡¯re the only order in the Necropolis with paladins in your ranks. It certainly can¡¯t be the company I keep, given the number of Slayers I¡¯m friends with. So what about me do you protest to?¡± ¡°By your own admission you are a coward. The warrior who put down his sword to raise a pen instead.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± The diplomat chuckled, the sound slowly moving to a full guffaw. ¡°I forget sometimes how stupid your order is. Do you know I was on the other side of this conversation years ago? When a far better man than I put my name forwards for this role. It was never my pen that made me a coward Arrabelle, it was my inaction. And that time is done.¡± ¡°Bold words. Yet your claim to be a man reborn is just a claim.¡± The Slayer declared dismissively. ¡°If not me then I¡¯m sure I could arrange someone else¡­ I know the Shields have more than a passing interest in this matter. Ackeron would love an excuse to walk amongst you, and Merida is always so very¡­ thorough when she believes herself slighted.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Arrabelle spat the word out as if hurt her. ¡°You can come.¡± ¡°Then let us waste no more of each other¡¯s time.¡± Karatas said graciously. ¡°Lead on.¡± Oathmaker - Chapter 26 - The Slayers of Death ¡°The Slayers of Death are probably the greatest duellists on Contenmere.¡± Karatas said conversationally as they walked. ¡°In the entire history of their order only five have ever fallen in battle.¡± For some reason the paladin had taken the role of tour guide as they headed towards what the Slayers of Death rather pretentiously referred to as their ¡®sanctum¡¯. With such effusive praise Alec would have expected Arrabelle to have at least smiled but the senior Slayers¡¯ expression had only grown more sour, the crow¡¯s feet around her eyes deepening as she glared. ¡°One of the younger orders, believe it or not,¡± The ambassador continued, ¡°though young is perhaps a relative term. Their growth was prodigious, especially amongst second-generation necromancers.¡± That only made Arrabelle even more dour, her clipped steps echoing through the stone halls as she sped up enough that Alec almost had to jog to keep up. A hand on his arm slowed him, Karatas not increasing his pace in the slightest despite some mild jostling from Arrabelle¡¯s entourage as they tried to hurry him along, the paladin at best managing a brisk stroll. ¡°Of course their policy of allowing paladin knights amongst their ranks is a more recent invention. Only a few hundred years, but it¡¯s certainly been instrumental in maintaining the peace. One of their cleverer diplomatic moves in my opinion. It¡¯s one thing to get your soldiers to stab an enemy, another entirely to stab a friend.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t do it for peace.¡± Arrabelle said coldly. ¡°Or at least not your peace. Our goals are of a higher order.¡± ¡°In either case, it¡¯s been a useful boon to the likes of myself.¡± Karatas declared, ignoring Arrabelle¡¯s commentary completely. ¡°You¡¯re in for a treat Alec, if the rumours are accurate. The Slayers have pushed what the human, or inhuman, body can do to its very limit, even pioneered their own brand of necromancer. Your master, Erebus, despite not being a member, was a master at it.¡± ¡°And I would dearly like to know who taught it to him.¡± Arrabelle growled, ¡°The First Servant is supposed to be a complete secret, and that damnable wretch spread it to half the Necropolis. Now that blasted ghoul wants to add it to the basic curriculum.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the harm?¡± Karatas chuckled, the sound more than a little forced, ¡°Knowledge deserves to be free, within reason. Your methods could save thousands of lives, if anything you should be clamouring to take credit.¡± ¡°We developed The First Servant to allow us to fight the Great Enemy.¡± She hissed, the capital letters audible to even the untrained ear. ¡°It¡­ proliferating represents a dangerous risk of her finding out.¡± ¡°I¡¯m all but certain, given the number of Slayers that have died so far, that Death knows all about it by now.¡± Karatas pointed out mildly. ¡°Dont say her name!¡± Arrabelle hissed, all of the Slayers whirling on the spot to try and form a perimeter, watchful eyes glaring out of their hoods as if expecting an instant assault. The ambassador rolled his eyes. ¡°If such an entity exists I¡¯m all but certain they¡¯ve got larger concerns than us.¡± ¡°Irrelevant.¡± The Slayer snapped, not relaxing yet. ¡°If our sources are right she is aware every single time her name is invoked.¡± ¡°Then she must be direly overworked.¡± Karatas laughed, shaking his head almost pityingly. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely unaware of creatures that work on such a scale. The Imperators. The Sidhe Royals. None check every invocation of their name due to the sheer frequency it¡¯s said and De- she must receive orders of magnitude more.¡± ¡°But she could check.¡± Arrabelle countered. ¡°The risk is unacceptable.¡± The ambassador considered making an argument of it but as much as he enjoyed needling the Slayers he was here for a reason and testing their patience probably ran counter to that. Instead he elected for the silence Arrabelle so clearly desired, the rest of the journey passing without further incident. Their arrival in what sections of the Necropolis the Slayers of Death controlled was not clearly demarcated. There was no change in the stone work, no guards, gateway nor portcullis, just a slow increase in the number of people. It was damned creepy really, and Alec was pretty sure he was on the far end of the bell curve when it came to being creeped out, but there was something direly unnerving about the way conversations, not quite loud enough to make out words, would just stop the moment they rounded a corner. Even that wouldn¡¯t have been so bad if it weren¡¯t for the staring. Noone even tried to hide it, wide eyed, silent staring as they walked by, followed by the sound of hushed conversation the moment they were past. Karatas was also unnerved. The paladin had a pretty good poker face, but it didn¡¯t get as far as his eyes. His gaze would linger when he recognised someone, not for long, and the corners of his smile would tighten a little. It felt odd looking to a paladin for reassurance, especially one that looked like he was one step shy of being declared a bonemeal class zombie, but the ambassador was supposedly friends with some of these people, he knew them. But it seemed they did not know him, not even sparing him, Arrabelle or the rest of their escort so much as a glance. Alec checked again, trying and failing to stop a shiver from running down his spine then back up again for good measure as it confirmed his suspicions. The Slayers of Death were indeed all staring at him specifically, and he liked what was in their eyes not at all. Hate would have been worrying. Disdain perhaps expected. Bafflement likely. Kindness a relief. It took him a while as they walked to figure out what he was seeing, and as the realisation set in Alec could feel a dull weight forming in his stomach, and it certainly wasn¡¯t from indigestion. What he was seeing was hope. Sincere, naked and unashamed hope. Which was a problem when he hadn¡¯t the faintest idea what they wanted from him, or what the consequences would be if their expectations were not met. ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Alec asked when he could bear it no more. ¡°The truth, as best as you can tell it.¡± Arrabelle replied without hesitation. ¡°You realise there¡¯s a lot I can¡¯t tell you right? That I¡¯d be killed if I even thought about it too hard?¡± The teenager explained hurriedly. A full explanation of his adventures was just another word for assassination. ¡°This should not put you in any danger.¡± The Slayer told him seriously. ¡°I honestly doubt a single soul outside our order has even the slightest inkling of what you stumbled upon. I¡¯ll say no more until we¡¯re safely behind the privacy wards.¡± ¡°Have you noticed yet?¡± The question came from Karatas as Arrabelle lapsed back into silence, the paladin leaning in to ask quietly, though it would take a miracle for their hosts not to overhear them regardless. Alec shot the ambassador an annoyed glance, able to smell the hint of last night¡¯s wine on his breath. ¡°Let¡¯s assume I haven¡¯t.¡± He said wearily. Three days at the Necropolis, just three days, and he was already so sick and tired of everyone speaking in riddles, treating everything like some kind of test or teachable moment to point he had to wonder if there was some sort of damage to the resident¡¯s collective psyche. It at least explained why the paladin was being treated more as a nuisance and possibly unwell rather than a dire threat, he¡¯d been absorbed into the culture he was meant to negotiate with, in many ways Alec was the bigger outsider. ¡°Look at the tools.¡± Karatas said simply as they passed yet another creepily staring gaggle of Slayers. Dutifully Alec did so. It didn¡¯t take long for him to figure out now he¡¯d been given a hint. In his defence he¡¯s been rather distracted by the worshipful gaze they¡¯d been giving him, far, far too preoccupied with their eyes to pay attention to what was in their hands. While there was the usual motley collection of magical staves, wands and weapons, there were also a surprising number of people holding brooms, polishing cloths and in one instance a feather duster. More important was what there was a lack of, the army of skeletal servants that would normally be holding them. That more than anything was the clear demarcation between the Slayers of Death¡¯s section of the Necropolis and the rest of it. Absolutely no undead ¨C a strange stance indeed for necromancers. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Karatas smiled, watching Alec¡¯s face as he connected the dots. ¡°Exactly. Not a ghoul, zombie, lich or chitinoth in sight.¡± Arrabelle gave the ambassador another scowl, Alec was beginning to think the knight was keeping some sort of bizarre score on that front. ¡°All will be explained in time.¡± Finally they seemed to enter something other than the maze of corridors, passing an archway that had, going from faded marks in the stone, once held a door. It was night and day to the disorienting emptiness of the rest of the Necropolis. The sanctum of the Slayers of Death downright bustled. There was the same moment of awed and desperate silence as Alec stepped in, but Arrabelle chose to dispel it with a simple ¡°Be about your business.¡± this time. ¡°You know...¡± Karatas mused dryly, ¡°for an organisation without any leaders you certainly seem to wield a lot of authority.¡± Alec ignored the byplay between the two, taking in the hundreds of necromancers going about their work. There was what appeared to be a reception area where several harried looking men and women were doing their best to keep up with in trays that Alec was watching grow in real time. Behind that was a courtyard that Arrabelle took them past where dozens of mages and paladins were sparring, and what sparring it was, more of a free for all really. There weren¡¯t any violent spells going on but that didn¡¯t mean the combatants had bounded themselves to paltry reality. There were several swordfights going on where the fighters were duelling while stood sideways, their feet adhering to the walls. At least two people were having a fistfight hovering in the air, and the general athleticism on display was beyond belief. Alec had been in quite a few fights by this point, magical ones even, and this was still the first time he¡¯d seen someone do a backflip, let alone over one of their opponents, parrying in the process, before pushing them into the other person they¡¯d been fighting. It was all a bit¡­ much. ¡°They really aren¡¯t subtle.¡± Karatas echoed his thoughts, ¡°Nonetheless it is an impressive display.¡± ¡°The First Servant is a versatile tool.¡± Arrabelle declared, not hiding her smugness. ¡°And we would be delighted to share it with you Alec, if you choose to join our order.¡± The teenager gave her his best unimpressed look. Not that what he¡¯d just seen wasn¡¯t incredibly impressive, but, ¡°I¡¯d have been more agreeable to it if you hadn¡¯t kidnapped me in all but name.¡± ¡°Yes yes, and I apologise for the necessity. You¡¯ll understand in just a moment.¡± That said she beckoned him into a sideroom. It was a simple enough affair, almost identical to the debriefing rooms he¡¯d found himself shuffled between after the battle against Tza¡¯rahlitzek. They weren¡¯t fond memory. Still at least this one had nicely upholstered chairs that he could sink into rather than metal frame affairs that seemed to have a vendetta against his arse. There were enough chairs for everyone. Karatas, Arrabelle, himself, and a Slayer who was by the looks of things going to act as stenographer for this meeting. The only other feature of note were the walls, covered in inches of paper, each with some sort of protective glyph on. Karatas eyed them dubiously before shaking his head, ¡°I¡¯d have preferred something in stone or steel.¡± ¡°Paper is more easily replaced.¡± Arrabelle told him coldly. ¡°With certain foes it¡¯s not about about if they can break through the wards, it¡¯s about knowing when.¡± ¡°That is some impressive paranoia. I may have to pass it along to my superiors.¡± Karatas laughed humourlessly, though he stopped laughing when one of the glyphs caught fire, the paper peeling off the wall to fall to the floor where Arrabelle hurriedly stamped it out. ¡°To business then.¡± The aged but spry Slayer said as she settled into her own chair. ¡°To business.¡± The paladin echoed, settling into a chair beside Alec, arms folded as he waited on Arrabelle. ¡°What do you want to know?¡± Alec asked, resignation aplenty in the teenager¡¯s voice. ¡°¡¯cause you have to know there¡¯s going to be a lot of things I just can¡¯t answer without getting killed.¡± ¡°Fortunately that shouldn¡¯t be an issue. What I will I ask I doubt will be of interest to anyone outside my order. After Erebus had broken the death zone at Forsaken Valda, in your debriefing you mentioned three people who you at first mistook for surviving townsfolk. Could you please describe them for me?¡± The teenager frowned deeply at that, mostly to hide his confusion. Of all the questions he¡¯d been expecting that was not one of them. ¡°Uh¡­ well there were three of them. A young woman in a necromancer¡¯s robe, an old man with a ridiculously long beard and uh¡­ a third one with green eyes.¡± Arrabelle nodded, apparently expecting that answer, the scribe not even bothering to write it down. ¡°Did they at any point identify themselves?¡± ¡°No. Not once. And it never occurred to me to ask.¡± Arrabelle nodded again, another expected answer. ¡°The third one, were they a man or a woman?¡± ¡°They were a woman.¡± Alec said confidently. Then he paused, running the memory back through his head. ¡°No wait a man¡­ uh¡­ crap. I want to say both, but I know that doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t technically prove anything.¡± The scribe noted, his gaze flicking to Arrabelle, who was grinning from ear to ear, her smile wouldn¡¯t have been out of place on a shark. ¡°They could merely be a shapeshifter.¡± ¡°That just happens to match the description of one of the three?¡± The Slayer retorted derisively before turning her attention back to Alec, a real hunger in her voice as she asked. ¡°Can you tell me anything else about the green eyed one?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ no. I¡¯m trying but I can¡¯t even remember what colour hair they had.¡± Alec admitted. ¡°Did they mess with my mind?¡± ¡°Nothing so banal. They didn¡¯t mess with your perception. They messed with reality¡¯s. As we understand it The Three don¡¯t really have bodies, but lacking a body makes it rather hard to interact with people so they convince Reath that they do, they just tend to be a little bit sparse on the details. Now¡­ what did the man look like?¡± ¡°Old.¡± Alec said simply. ¡°He had a long beard, blue eyes and¡­ that¡¯s all I can recall. Oh and he had an hourglass he kept fiddling with. He reminded me a lot of my grandfather¡­ I never met my grandfather.¡± ¡°Two for two.¡± Arrabelle smiled, voice lowering with that terrible hunger as she finally got on to the one she was interested in. ¡°Now¡­ tell me about the woman.¡± ¡°She was young¡­ which feels weird to say now I think about it given¡­¡± Alec gestured at himself, ¡°and she smiled a lot. She had black hair, a very old looking black robe, gaunt cheeks¡­¡± The teen paused in contemplation. ¡°Why does she have more detail than the other two? There¡¯s still things missing in my head, the eyes for example but when I try and picture her face it¡¯s mostly there.¡± ¡°Because Death is more of a person than them.¡± Arrabelle answered. ¡°And her role requires a lot more interaction with people. Any other details?¡± ¡°She had a small hand scythe that she kept on the table we sat at. Is any of this important?¡± ¡°It could be.¡± The Slayer shrugged. ¡°If nothing else it helps establish patterns. What did you talk about?¡± ¡°Well the first time I spoke to them was when I asked them to evacuate the inn they were staying at. They just fobbed me off, said they¡¯d be fine and then went back to playing.¡± Alec reported. ¡°There really wasn¡¯t anything interesting said.¡± ¡°The game. What was it?¡± ¡°Something they called poker. It was quite fun once they taught me the rules.¡± ¡°They let you play with them?¡± Arrabelle actually gasped. ¡°Not then. Then they just said they¡¯d stay in the inn¡­¡± Alec trailed off, seriously wondering if he should say the next part if Arrabelle had been shocked at him merely being allowed to sit with them. ¡°And Death lent me her cloak.¡± It was a good thing Arrabelle hadn¡¯t been drinking anything or Alec would have been wearing it. As it was the Slayer¡¯s jaw hung loose for a moment before she closed her mouth, and opened it again, silently trying to remember how words worked. Even Karatas, only half entertaining the idea that the teenager had met capital D Death, was taken aback. While he was a little reticent to believe in gods, he knew there were powerful things out there, and just from the memory editing alone it was clear Alec had met one of them. And such beings did not share lightly. ¡°Did the robe have any unnatural effects you were aware of? Invisibility? Intangibility? People seeming disinclined to notice you? An inability to be wounded?¡± Arrabelle asked hurriedly once she¡¯d overcome her disbelief. ¡°None that I noticed. Amara spotted me instantly and I was taken hostage about a minute later. I just needed a cloak that would let me pass as an apprentice mage.¡± Alec replied as he played the events back through his head. Had his killing of the paladin Arkos, still the only person Alec had killed, been in any way unnatural? Well beyond using forbidden alchemicals to literally melt the man. No. Alec concluded slowly. The paladin had never taken him seriously as a threat, just a boy out of his depth, which he had been. Afterall what teenager was carrying around potions that could turn people into a puddle on the floor? ¡°Do you still have the cloak?¡± The Slayer inquired, demanded really. Whatever hopes Arrabelle had had for the interview, and they¡¯d already clearly been sizeable, Alec had already exceeded them by every metric. ¡°No. I returned it as soon as I was able.¡± ¡°Do you believe there was a compulsion to return it?¡± Another long pause for thought. ¡°No. I just thought it polite.¡± ¡°Okay. What other interactions did you have with her?¡± Arrabelle asked, leaning forwards in her chair as the scribe wrote down everything verbatim and he was pressing down hard enough the quill was going through the paper in places. ¡°Mostly they just let me sit in on the games they played while talking about how rare it was for all three of them to have a chance to meet these days and how they would eventually have to ¡®do the work¡¯ whatever that was.¡± ¡°Did they elaborate at any point?¡± ¡°No. Most of the talk was about the game. A lot of complaining about how the lady always seemed to win, some complaints about how at least it wasn¡¯t chess.¡± Alec gave a shrug. ¡°She certainly did win a lot. If they hadn¡¯t covered my debts for me I¡¯ve no idea what I would owe, as it is I only won the one hand.¡± ¡°And what did you win?¡± The Slayer asked with an intensity bordering upon lust. ¡°Nothing really. Just a handful of the tokens we were playing with. There weren¡¯t any real stakes.¡± Alec explained, fishing into one of his pockets in anticipation of the next question. ¡°These tokens¡­ could I see one?¡± Wordlessly Alec handed one of the ones in his pocket, a rich green disc made of a smooth material. The teenager giving Arrabelle time to examine it, and reach the same conclusions as the last person to put them under scrutiny. ¡°They¡¯re just¡­ tokens.¡± The Slayer concluded, tone mystified and expression baffled. ¡°No mana or chaos. Just¡­ stuff. The material is odd but¡­¡± ¡°Erebus said it was some sort of alchemical product called plastic.¡± Alec explained, extending a hand to receive the poker chip back. For a moment it looked like Arrabelle wouldn¡¯t relinquish it, but whatever battle she was having with herself pragmatism, or perhaps conscience, won as she dropped it into the rookie mage¡¯s outstretched palm. ¡°Are there any other questions?¡± Karatas asked evenly, pushing his chair back somewhat optimistically as he prepared to stand. ¡°Of course. We will want to go over things a few more times, just in case.¡± Arrabelle assured him. ¡°Food will be brought to us.¡±