《Necromantic Panic》
Chapter 1
"I admit, she died in my arms. I deny responsibility. The fault is yours, Rykard." ¨C Letters of Admission, Letter 1.
It was evening. Elena sat on the sofa reading while her brother drew stick figures and watched tv. He had been at this for almost an hour, changing the channel when he become bored with the channel''s offerings, and then drawing again. Elena mostly thought to herself and read. She, spent the last few hours watching him, and reading from her book on myths, legends, and the history of La Viajar. A smile spread across her face as she read: a welcome distraction from reality.
The news continued, shifting scenes in a small, graying blackbox of a television. The commentators'' voices intruded once more on her senses, begging to be heard. Her attention to the screen. ¡°We¡¯re here on the five o¡¯clock slot with Father Arnold Brasher. Tell us, Father, is the church any closer to healing the sick?¡±
The news anchor, a small, blonde woman in a tan dress suit, sat beside a white-robed man with a golden sun, the symbol of the church, strung around his neck. His wrinkles and greyed hair, when paired with his soft voice, spoke of his lifelong practice as a member of the church. They sat on a small stage, microphones before them, pale blues and whites painted on the walls behind them, to signify the sky and clouds, ¡°the first children of the Sun,¡± as the story goes.
¡°No, Rebecca,¡± he answered without hesitation. He shifted his weight and raised his arms as if to highlight his next point. ¡°We fail in this endeavor because She prevents us. Death prevents us in many things, eternal life, and healing being among them. She induces suffering, disease, and the breaking of the body and spirit.¡± Laying his arms down, he shook his head. ¡°Life Himself can only do so much. Progress is being made, but we have only been able to heal a few scrapes without issue, sadly.¡± His wizened voice continued, speaking on the virtues of life, and the inherent evil of death. They then went on to discuss the full moon, the sign of the Necromancer¡¯s return.
Elena had heard it all before, and wasn¡¯t in the mood.
Her parents had emphasized the important teachings of Life, the vices of Death, and the holy scripture for twenty years; it didn¡¯t stick. She was more interest in history, myth, and legends. Her family held to older, fundamentalist traditions, ones where the dead, no matter how they spoke to the living, could not be trusted. It didn¡¯t matter if they were alive when they wrote something down. The only exception in her family¡¯s denomination, and what she currently read, was the originating myth. The defeat of the Necromancer at the hands of Sol had marked the beginning of a global religion, with just as many denominations as there are leaves on a tree. Everyone knew the story. The original ¡°good triumphs over evil,¡± and yet, there seemed to be something pulling at Elena¡¯s heart. She empathized with the necromancer, who had killed his only friend.
Not ten feet from her, the lock turned in the doorknob. Elena jumped, then stiffened. She knew who it was. Shoving the book down between the cushion and the pillow at her side, she focused on the television. Her brother, James, still drew with the same fascination, scribbling across the page in garish colors. He looked up as the door opened and said, ¡°Hi, Daddy,¡± just as Elena said, ¡°Hi, dad.¡±
Her father gave the room a glance. Everything was in place. No trash on the floor, the coffee table cleared off, save for James¡¯ papers and crayons. The television blared parentally-approved programming. No cartoons. Nothing Sinful here.
Turning, he placed his coat on the hook and threw his keys into the crystal dish on the table by the door. His eyes held no kindness, only ¡°strictness¡± as he called it, with a large body to back it up. He noted the empty kitchen the same way he noted the living room. Setting his jaw and grinding his teeth, he stormed in to the master bedroom and began yelling at Elena and James¡¯ sleeping mother.
It went on for an hour. Through the living room wall, Elena heard the screaming, the ¡°I expect food to be ready when I get home,¡± the rebuttals that the alarm hadn¡¯t gone off. Her fathers¡¯ words struck hardest. ¡°Lazy bitch.¡±, ¡°No respect.¡± James continued to draw, focusing on his art and the television playing religious sermons with the pastor roaring to a crowd, ¡°covet not your neighbors being, in spirit alone are we pure.¡± As the beating continued, James continued drawing as if nothing was wrong, not even when the whimpering began.
Elena couldn¡¯t take it anymore. She knew she¡¯d be next if he even thought she did anything. Better to leave now than be a victim to it. She¡¯d gone out before when he got like this, but never this late. He usually only grounded her in response or yelled. Better than being beaten, she thought. Elena slipped on her shoes and put on her jacket. They were still yelling. She kissed James and told him she¡¯d be back later. She opened the door quietly and exited into the cool night air of the Deuda.
From the second floor of the apartment complex she called home, cool air drifted in from El Viajar proper, and into its twin city, the Deuda. From her vantage, she could see the perfect line of glass and steel reach against the sky as it cut El Viajar in two, shining against the fading light. Poorer than it¡¯s more extravagant brother with its never ending light, the Deuda lays close to the ground, like a shadow to the light. Few new buildings, cracked roads and sidewalks, but it, despite it all, was her home.
Taking another breath, she hurried down the steps leading towards the first floor, the shouting growing louder before stopping completely. Whether they had stopped fighting, or distance brought ignorance, she didnt care. When she did reach the landing, Elena gave a quick glance back. She said sorry to her brother for leaving him there, but it¡¯s not like she¡¯d be gone for long, and their father never hit James. He loved James.
Lights began turning on throughout the street. Cars pulled into the parking lot, families brought in groceries to this old, rundown complex. Elena looked upon all of them with envy, sadness, and a hint of guilt. She shouldn¡¯t feel envious, or really sad that she didn¡¯t have those things. She knew that, and yet, her chest tightened at the site of happy parents, nice clothes, and smiles.
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Walking through the darkening streets, she heard the words of her family and the church in her head. While she didn¡¯t want to listen to the Sun Church doctrine, she still knew that coveting the possessions of others, even their emotions, was sinful ¨C it was the first, and most important command given by Inheritor Rykard. As she walked, farther and farther away from the complex, more reminders of how she failed her parents, their god, and herself festered in her mind. She struggled to suppress memories she would rather forget. I¡¯m like a disease, she thought.
The winding streets snaked out before her, leading deeper into the Deuda, farther away from the steel and glass wall towards the hills. Negative thoughts continued to grow with every step, welling inside her chest the deeper the night grew. She failed to push them away, to hold them down, to enjoy her moment of freedom.
Street lights switched on, and the sweet smell of wet grass calmed her senses. The water, the grass, the trees, and even the dirt smelled divine. She acknowledged that her father was likely, almost literally, insane. The other members of our church are the same. Does that make them all crazy? She cherished the thought. The idea that the entire congregation that shunned and hated her, that they were all insane, that shunned and hated her, that they were all insane, it brought visceral joy.
A wicked smile spread across her face. The houses on either side of her didn''t smile back, and their shadowed faces remained stoic and unfeeling. She sighed, then remembered her brother, and how the entire church loved him, even as he floundered and failed. They gave him chances. They gave so many people chances. They loved fellow believers, almost to a fault. I believe, too.
The night air deepened in flavor, becoming colder, and wetter, as the wind grew heavier through the streets. The further she walked, the stronger the memory of her mistake became, the day she admitted she felt bad for the necromancer. The church cared for their fellows, why not care for someone being used by Death Herself? White walls, blue carpet, wood tables. Their eyes turned on her in that sterile, unfeeling room. At that moment, they knew she was loathsome. They hated her for feeling sorrow for an agent of evil.
Turning into her old neighborhood, Elena found a park she used to go to as a child. It wasn¡¯t much, little more than an old churchyard with a small playground attached to it. She sat on the iron bench, and pulled her knees to her chest. The smell of wet grass was strongest here. Good memories drifted in, memories of being happy, belonging with her parents. The night made the scent of soil strong.
Down the path many homeless knelt beside the stained glass windows depicting the sun, and Rykard slaying the Necromancer. They all wore multiple jackets, and some had their heads wrapped, despite it not being fall quite yet. Elena couldn¡¯t hear their prayers, but it was clear that they all wanted salvation. Death cursed us all. Being homeless is like being alive and dead at the same time, unable to move on and unable to progress the longer you stay.
She looked up to the sky, and for the first time in her life, truly saw the moon. As a kid, and until a few months ago, the moon was merely a white circle with black center. Sometimes it would be half a circle, sometimes even less. Now, however, she saw a pure white disk in the sky, glowing brightly, gently, against the stars. Elena had been warned about this, that whenever the Necromancer comes back, he¡¯ll bring Her power with him, turning the moon an unholy sight. Elena found it beautiful, another sign of her nature. I don¡¯t want to go home.
Elena pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, taking in the sweet scents drifting in on the cool air. Of all the places in the Deuda, the churches remained clean, unsullied. Footsteps sounded closer, Elena tensed, expecting a homeless man to be on his way, ready to assault her. Instead, a deep, nearly monotone voice spoke out. ¡°Young lady, it¡¯s past time for you to be out. If you¡¯re able, head home.¡± He turned to look at the homeless still praying, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend staying out, at least not here.¡±
He wore a heavy jacket, boots, and had a star pinned to his jacket, the symbol of the police department. ¡°I¡¯ll go home. I guess I lost track of time.¡± He gave her a nod, then continued.
¡°See that you do. There¡¯s more homeless, especially in this part of town.¡± He squinted at the homeless, as if trying to pick something out from amongst them. When he couldn¡¯t, he again looked to Elena. ¡°Here,¡± he fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. ¡°Names Nahual, I perform the nightly patrol in sections of the city. If you ever need help, or if you see something weird, give me a call.¡±
Elena nodded wordlessly, staring at the card in her hand, then back to Nahual. He gave her a sad look. ¡°My daughter would be about your age now, please take care of yourself. Stay out of trouble.¡± Nahual turned, and left back to his car. As he pulled out, Elena placed the card in her pocket, not really sure if she would use it. A bitter knot held on her insides, even he wishes I was someone else.
Elena continued to think, and seep into her thoughts. She recalled the times she tried to end her life, where she¡¯d either fail or be stopped by her parents or members of the church. ¡°Life is sacred. Do not give in to Death. Do not give in to Sin.¡± Their words played in her mind over and over again. Knife cuts, pills, hanging, all failed or thwarted. But, the bridge.
When she was sure he was gone, she stood, and began walking again. She didn¡¯t walk towards home. She crossed the street towards another neighborhood that lead up towards the city walls. As she touched the crosswalk, a black cat walked besides her, meowing up at her. Once on the other side of the street, the pure piece of night itself rubbed against her leg. As Elena knelt down to pet the little void, it ran off down the street, far away from her.
Past dusk, far past her home, she felt alone. People joked on their porches in the deep blues and oranges of the night. Darkness fell on every inch of the street and homes, blocked only by the faint lights of the street lights. Out in the dark, the black cat wandered nearby in the bushes and trees. Laughter sung out, televisions sounded ¨C she could see them. More anger, more sadness, and more heart turning guilt pulled at her. ¡°Why do I have to care about a single person who killed his best, his only friend?¡±
She turned, past this neighborhood. Towards the end of the street, up a short hill, one of the many stone bridges remained, one that led out into the hills beyond the city. As she walked, the night finally deepened to a rich black, and consumed her. ¡°Why do I have to care about someone who no one else cares about,¡± she spoke aloud. ¡°Why do I have to care about someone who had no friends, who had no one?¡± She continued on, the hill tiring her, taking away her breath and the strength in her legs.
¡°Why does no one care about me?¡±
She finally made it to the stone bridge, the wind, now a gentle breathing against her long, black hair. Pulling up her hood, she remembered the plan she had all those years ago as a small girl, before her family talked her out of it, before the church¡¯s intervention. In the middle of the bridge, looking down into the abyss, she remembered what she felt that day, what she feels today. She couldn¡¯t go home, not really. Her father would get mad again, and then beat her and her mom. Then they¡¯ll go to church, and act like everything is fine. ¡°It¡¯ll never by fine. It¡¯ll never go away.¡±
Gripping the sides of the eroded rock she lifted herself up. She didn¡¯t dare open her eyes, or else she¡¯d be too afraid. Maybe she¡¯d live, maybe she¡¯d be in pain, but living was for the wicked, her church and her family proved it. Taking a deep breath, and a small forward lean, she openly embraced death, falling into the dried river that once separated the Deuda and the surrounding hills. The smell of the night filled her lungs one last time.
The slight dampness of the soil entered her lungs before they were crushed under the impact of her fall. Cold began invading her body as her warmth leaked from it. Her eyes flickered open towards the full moon, taking in the symbol of Death Herself, still in sharp opposition to His Sun. A single, ragged breath escaped her lips, the eternal sleep began to take her.
Death and peace were hers to claim. Elena wanted to let go, but death welcomed her too slowly. Barely able to keep her eyes open, a figure in a black cloak knelt beside her and placed a single hand upon her chest. Through the dark, Elena saw his pale, boney features. The chill grew within her body, begging to take her from life, but it calmed within her, coiling around her heart, settling deeply within her. Still unable to move, she watched through half closed eyes as the hooded figure returned to a standing position, the bones wrung about his neck clacked against each other, the tattered pieces of cloth making up his cloak barely holding together. He continued to walk through the dried riverbed.
Instead of death, sleep begged to take her. Her breathing steadied, her ribs cracked neatly back into place. As sleep took her, the night was no longer cold.
Chapter 2
"You¡¯ve already won, end this with what you¡¯ve stolen."
¨C Letters of Admission, Letter 2.
had hurt. Now, she felt like a girl lying at the bottom of an empty river staring at a full moon.
If I find him, then I¡¯ll have a place where I¡¯m valued, wanted. Her little void companion, the black cat, then bounded through the street as something caught its interest ¨C Elena didn¡¯t see anything. She steeled herself, and began walking through the streets, in search of the Necromancer.
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wanted to do. ¡°I need a place to go. The Necromancer brought me back, and I need to find him.¡±
He¡¯ll hate me. He¡¯ll turn me in. They¡¯ll kill me. They¡¯ll all be right about me. They¡¯ll all be happy that I¡¯m dead, they¡¯ll¨C. ¡°Most everyone here is doing the same thing,¡± he finished.
This must be fate, she mused. She then explained how she always felt bad for the Necromancer, and how her church had shunned her for her feelings. Then she went on to explain her fathers abuse, her suicide attempts, and her death today. ¡°So, if I¡¯m going to go anywhere, I think I should be with the Necromancer.
panic? And ¡°why didn¡¯t anyone know what he looked like? He¡¯s got a purple robe, some bones, he¡¯s pale as a ghost and looks like he¡¯s sick. He stands out pretty easy.¡±
Chapter 3
"You were never our friend. You used us. You¡¯re no different from the damned Iteri. But if I had not destroyed them, then maybe we wouldn''t be here today."
¨C Letters of Admission, Letter 3
¡°No doubt they¡¯ll be asking me questions,¡± he thought. On the ground floor, he kicked the trash, scattering cardboard and a tin cup of old pens. ¡°What a waste.¡± He turned and left ¡°the tower¡± as he likes to call it. Then, turning back, eyes to the floor he left her at, ¡°she¡¯ll be safe here,¡± he muttered to himself, ¡°she¡¯ll be safe. It¡¯ll be okay.¡±
¡°That¡¯s right, nothing important. When this is done, I¡¯ll be dead all the same. It won¡¯t matter.¡± William continued his line of thought.
¡°So much struggle for so little,¡± he thought, eyes transfixed to the floor. ¡°Why bring so many people back? Why make so much? Why¡.no, don¡¯t ask questions. Questions lead to thinking, and thinking leads to problems. Don¡¯t think. Don¡¯t care. Don¡¯t worry. Do what you can, then be done and die.¡±
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¡°Hello everyone!¡±
living, gentleman.
seems as though the man doesn¡¯t exist, that our dreams are only dreams, but we are evidence of his existence, are we not? Not to mention the moon being as it is, that alone implies his being within our realm. Do we have anything to report?¡±
will have our justice.¡±
¡°Almost hopeful, almost better, almost¡. I¡¯m so tired. Let it end.¡±
Chapter 4
Everything has a soul. It is what you do with it that defines your life, child."
- The Bearer of Gifts to the First Iteri.
Elena, full of the hope and ecstasy of her blooming destiny, met William at the same fountain from the day before. He stood before the church, still gazing at the moon and the metal rod jutting into Rykard¡¯s chest. He wore the same clothes as the previous day and looked more like a runaway than a homeless man. He seemed slightly too clean.
When she approached, he cast a warm smile. "Hello, miss. Did you dream the day away?"
"Of course. I dreamt of black cats and voodoo dolls."
William placed a hand upon his chest, and, looking utterly shocked in a mocking sort of way, uttered, "Miss Elena, I did not know you listened to church music!" He nudged her with his elbow, ¡°You¡¯re with us now. Stick with me, I''ll show you some better music.¡±
Elena smiled as William bobbed his head to invisible music. He looked stiff, like he hadn¡¯t danced in ages. Altogether, he seemed silly. She looked up to the moon, full in a way that she had never seen before, taking in the full weight of the night she experienced. This night would start everything. Yesterday she changed, but tonight she would seek her reason for being.
"Ready to go?" Elena asked, beginning to walk towards the university entrance.
"Not yet, there''s someone you have to meet. He, uh, wants to help." William began walking towards the church, the same one with the impaled statue of Rykard. Inside sat a man regarding the old, torn, and burned artwork that no longer graced the stone building with majesty, but rather with the brutal truth of decay and endless loss.
"This is Erasmus," William began. "He knows the Deuda better than anyone I''ve met. He''s also looking for the Necromancer, same as us." William didn¡¯t move to join him. Instead, he opted to stand beside Elena, a comforting presence in the face of a potential unknown.
Upon William uttering these words, Erasmus'' eyes lit up with acknowledgment as he looked at them. He pulled at his coat and dusted himself off. His pale black suit made him look all the more distinguished, as though he were ready to either utter a sermon or be ready for the ball. His smile, and pure white teeth made him seem all the more alive.
"Hello, Miss Elena; I am Erasmus, caretaker of this university and all who reside therein. William told me all about you, and I want to help."
Elena looked to William uncertain at first, but Erasmus continued. "I''ve been looking for the Necromancer myself," he said as he unbuttoned his coat sleeve. "I''ve been working on finding the man, but I''ve had no such luck." He pulled back his sleeve to reveal the rotted flesh of his forearm, the bone and tendons visible, moving as he moved his hands. "It goes up to my shoulder on this arm,¡± he said, eyeing her with uncertainty. ¡°I just want to get patched up. It wouldn¡¯t do if I went around the town a shambling mess. You understand.¡± He lowered his coat sleeve, and rebutted his coat.
Elena, seeing the rotted flesh of an undead for the first time, had wanted to look away. A part of her knew she should feel disgusted, but another part of her felt sorrow, and sadness for Erasmus. He should be taken care of, same as her. People shouldn¡¯t be abandoned, or forced to suffer. ¡°Sure, I can help you find him. It''ll be easier with more people." Elena forced a smile.
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Erasmus put his arms out before him, as if ready to embrace Elena in a hug, but quickly stopped himself, and began straightening his coat. "Perfect, thank you, Miss. I just need to know what he looked like. Neither William nor I can remember what he looks like. William says you do remember?"
Erasmus sat back down, eyes ready and alight with curiosity. William sat across from him, on a nearby, half-burned bench, holding the same tired eyes he had when she first saw him. The liveliness he expressed not ten minutes ago, was all gone. She sat beside him. "There''s not much to say, really.¡± Erasmus continued to stand, hand under his chin, ¡°He had a purple robe, pale skin, a hooked nose, no facial hair, and a weird necklace."
"Necklace? What did it look like?" Erasmus asked, the black charred walls behind him giving him a menacing air that matched his demeanor as if he were made from the same worn material.
"The necklace looked like it was made from bones. Why? Is that important?"
Erasmus paced a moment and placed his face in his hands. He looked at the burned artwork as if seeking guidance, or perhaps out of habit. Then he spoke, ¡°it might be, but it might be nothing. The robe sounds familiar, and the facial features will give us something to go on. The bones worry me, but I wouldn''t let it worry you, miss."
Elena sat there a moment longer than she intended, feeling uneasy at the man before her. He radiated, not malice, something more akin to dread. She felt for him and his circumstances. Yet, Erasmus, whoever this man was, felt wrong. Elena put on a smile and looked at William who sat there, arms wrapped around himself as if being in the church felt uncomfortable.
William turned, their eyes met, and a smile spread across his face. "You ready to go," he asked.
"Yeah, let''s find the Necromancer." Elena turned to leave, but as she turned, she noticed William say, in a hushed, dour tone to Erasmus, "good luck with the cult.¡±
Elena and William walked through the university, the night air gradually chilling around them, and Shade running on ahead, bounding through shadow and bush. "So, I was thinking," William started, looking more comfortable in the night than he did in the church, "we should start where you saw him, and try looking around there."
"Sounds good, it''s at the nearby bridge that leads out of the city." They continued walking, Shade stopping to smell and lick random plants, hiding amongst the rocks, only visible when the unusual moonlight reflected off the sheen of his fur. He seemed happy.
When they reached the bridge, Elena pointed at the ledge and said, "this is where I jumped and died.¡± She paused for effect as if her own death were just an event in a long line of events without weight or purpose. "Then, as if by destiny itself, the Necromancer brought me back!"
She forced a smile, and, now that she was here again, saw how long of a drop it was. A long enough drop to kill her, but not fast. She had been lucky to have been turned, taken out of her broken misery.
Shade scampered up to the edge of the bridge, looked down, and did what all cats do, and rolled around. He didn''t fall, but his being so close to the edge made Elena uneasy. She snatched him and cradled him. William smiled.
He walked towards the edge of the bridge, he looked down into the dark. "That must''ve hurt." Elena didn''t reply, William continued, ¡°best guess is that he must''ve been walking around in the hills and found himself down there. You got lucky, most people get turned when they''re all gooey, but you''re as fresh as a daisy, Miss Elena."
He smiled as he usually did, one that warmed Elena to see, as if it didn''t matter in the end how bad the world was, that it¡¯d be okay.
"Onward and upward," he said.
"Onward where?" Elena asked under the lamplight of the bridge. "There''s nothing out there."
"Now, we don''t know that yet, do we, miss? I''ve looked in the city myself and never found the man, but if he''s been hiding out there all this time, in the dark, amongst all the spirits of the damned? Well, then it makes sense." He flashed another grin as if he said the most profound joke in the world.
Elena knew that there were no spirits out there, but couldn''t help but smile back. "Onward and upward." They crossed the rest of the bridge and ventured out into the wooded hills behind the Deuda.
Chapter 5
"Death created the earth. Life created the sky. Shape was not ours to choose."
Elena and William continue walking across the stone bridge, and onto the dirt path that winds around the city. They continued walking along, both looking out into the darkness, unable to note anything of value or importance. The moon, for all its brightness, was at such an angle that it failed to illuminate the bottom.
As they walked, small dust clouds drifted behind them. They kicked rocks and leaned against the waist-high fence that prevented anyone from accidentally falling into the canal. The night air pressed against them, invading their lungs with cool night air that only the shifting of the seasons could bring. No longer too warm or hot, the night air now brought a cooling, comforting effect that no other seasonal shift possessed.
When they reached the steps, they looked about their surroundings for anything that might be a clue. After no more than five minutes, it was obvious that they would find nothing.
¡°Well, what now?¡± Elena asked, looking to William for guidance. He sat on the fence posts, not caring that he was inches away from falling, but that was a benefit to being undead. Maybe Elena would feel such freedom someday, but that day would not be today.
William stood up straight, again looked down into the dark and gloom, and then stood upright. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll find anything here directly. But, if he did come through here, then his only real option would be to go out.¡± He pointed to the walls that surrounded the city. From this point, they weren¡¯t too high, perhaps a few feet taller than William.
Every so many feet, the wall would either be collapsed, or there would be a door. From where they stood, next to the steps that lead into the canal, there was a broken segment of wall, one large enough that it wouldn¡¯t be able to prevent people from coming or going as they pleased.
Beyond the gap, a thin trail began, winding into the hill and surrounded by pine trees. While dark, and offering much to the imagination, it seemed like a good bet for where the Necromancer was coming from, or, perhaps, going to. Elena looked at William and nodded. Her resolve solidified, she then moved to the gap and crossed the broken stones without trouble.
William stood. He then brushed down his pants, trying to get any dirt off, and continued forward. Once he crossed the threshold, he breathed a sigh of contentment. It was clear that he liked the scent of the trees. Elena took a deep breath and found the smell both relaxing and familiar.
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They walked forward, William offering his insight into the trees, and how long they take to grow. Elena divided her attention between him and the trail. She didn¡¯t want to step on a branch, or a bundle of leaves. The sound might alert the Necromancer that they were near, and she wanted to get close to him first so that she could talk to him, and offer her support properly.
Not long after they began walking, the path joined the main one. Cleared of all debris, and wide enough for six people side by side, it made finding their way either. Along the path, lanterns stood, each lit by a light bulb in a familiar orange glow.
¡°Finally,¡± William said at last. ¡°I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d find a proper trail.¡± He stretched and looked at the sky overhead. ¡°Yep, would¡¯ve sucked to continue walking in the dark like that.¡±
¡°It didn¡¯t seem so bad,¡± Elena said, looking at their surroundings. The trees were thicker here, but the path offered a form of order that Elena welcomed.
¡°Try walking through the dark all night, unable to see in front of you. It¡¯s torture.¡± William put his hands in his pockets, and continued down the trail, keeping his eyes down for any hints or signs. Elena sprinted up next to him.
¡°You¡¯ve been stuck out in the dark like that? What¡¯d you do?¡± Elena was curious, and, now that she thought about it, would be utterly terrified being stuck in the dark for too long, unable to find her way.
¡°Well,¡± he began, looking into the distance, ¡°I was running from some people who would have liked me dead. So, I ran until I got lost in the woods. They couldn¡¯t find me, but neither could I, really.¡± He sighed as if the memory was a simple thing, but to Elena, it screamed of excitement, a journey for freedom that she could relate to.
¡°So, how¡¯d you get out?¡±
¡°I followed the moon. I kept walking until I could see it, then I tried not to lose it. Eventually, I managed to get enough light to find the path and get out of danger. In all, it was more or less a nighttime hike. With these lights here, I would¡¯ve had an easier time.¡±
Elena sighed, and felt awe at the thought, the chance, of being able to go for a hike or a walk through the hills. ¡°I wish I could¡¯ve done that when I was younger, but my family isn¡¯t the type to value the outdoors. Or, anything, really.¡±
They continued walking, talking about things of interest. Eventually, they came across a bush that seemed as though it had been moved and returned to its position. Its leaves were more worn and withered. When they looked beyond it, past the light, another smaller trail began, much like the one they had started from.
They turned the bush aside and walked further in. It didn¡¯t take long for them to see more light, and, eventually, ribbons running through the trees in various colors. The path widened and spat them out a few yards before a large tree.
Elena gasped and pointed out how the ribbons, and lanterns dotting the tree reminded her of the decorations for the All Souls Festival that will soon take place.
William walked forward and looked at some of the talismans hanging from the nearby trees, and the grand tree itself. ¡°It¡¯s probably a fortune teller,¡± he says, dropping a talisman. ¡°Based on the cards, and symbols in the tree, anyway.¡±
They both walk forward to a worn and withered sign that reads, ¡°The Royal Tree.¡±
Chapter 6
An Iteri can see who you are. They can understand the very ground we walk on, understanding the reason for things. That¡¯s why they¡¯re all gone. Knowledge brought us here, and it can take it all away.
Elena stood and stared at the tree as if a fairytale had come to life before her. Of all the stories she read, the myths and stories that parents told little kids, her favorites were the ones that had this element of fantastical. The ones that stood out in her mind were the ones that involved castles, knights, festivals, and magic. Standing opposite of her, mere feet from her, was the symbol of the fantastical.
Maybe a witch lived here? Maybe she¡¯d have a quest, or offer special insight into Elena¡¯s grand destiny. It didn¡¯t matter, this tree, with the streamers, lanterns, and talismans, it gave her a sense of need, of hope, and of magic.
¡°It¡¯s like a fairy tale,¡± Elena finally said, looking back to William who just stood there, eying the decorations as if they¡¯d fall from the tree and attack them.
¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± he said. He walked beside her and motioned to the cottage connected to the tree. ¡°You think they¡¯re home?¡±
Elena quickened her pace. She walked to the door and saw that it was made of the same type of old, hardened wood one might expect a cottage to have. The top of the door was a small window in a half circle of semi-translucent glass. She pressed her hands to the sides of her head, brushed her long hair out of the way, and peered inside.
¡°The lights are on, and I think someone¡¯s inside.¡±
Elena smiled at William again, ready to go inside, but he didn¡¯t look too pleased.
¡°We don¡¯t know who¡¯s in there,¡± he said, ¡°it could be anyone, the Necromancer, or someone else.¡±
Elena turned to him, hands raised, and motioned to the door. ¡°All the more reason to go inside. If he¡¯s here, then that means the search is over. If we found him, I don¡¯t have to search anymore. It¡¯s a short search, but still. It¡¯s something.¡±
She eyed William who seemed uncertain, cautious, somewhat afraid. It was like he didn¡¯t like the idea of trees in the woods or something. Finally, she turned and tried for the door. Surprisingly, it was open. ¡°Come on.¡±
William looked around one last time, looking at the talismans, some with writing that said, ¡°welcome¡±, others that said ¡°fortune teller¡±. Then, he followed her.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Inside, a kindly elderly woman set her tea on the circular table in the back of the cramped room. She didn¡¯t react to them, nor seemed to mind that they¡¯d made themselves welcome. Wrapped in blanket upon a blanket, and blues upon yellows, upon reds and greens, she looked like a wanderer. Her dark skin had paled with age, and she wore long hooped earrings, a necklace, and a scarf wrapped around her head.
Elena finally spoke, and asked, ¡°what¡¯s your name, ma¡¯am?¡± She didn¡¯t immediately get a reply, as the woman on the other side of the table sipped her steaming hot tea that smelled of lavender and raspberries.
When she did reply, she said, ¡°I¡¯m the Royal Tree. I¡¯ve been waiting for you.¡±
¡°The Royal Tree isn¡¯t the tree?¡± Asked Elena, unsure if her question was dumb.
The woman laughed a gentle laugh. ¡°Oh my yes, it is. I am the Royal Tree, as is the location.¡±
William, from behind Elena, thinks this is absurd, that the woman is crazy. He looks at the talismans strewn across the room.
Moving forward, Elena, unable to hide her eagerness,sat in the chair in front of the Royal Tree. She asked, ¡°can you tell me my fortune?¡± She puts her hand forward, hoping that it was the type that did palm readings, like the ones she read about.
The elderly woman smiled, ¡°I¡¯ll need something in return.¡±
Elena withered, and replied, ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t have any money.¡±
William then chimes in from the back, ¡°I don¡¯t have any either. We just want to know if you sawsomeone in a dark robe, pale, sickly, might¡¯ve had a bone necklace?¡±
The woman isn¡¯t fazed and laughs lightly. ¡°I don¡¯t want money, I just want to know if the All Souls Festival is happening this year. With the moon as it is, I was afraid the church would¡¯ve canceled it. I just want to know if it¡¯s still happening.¡±
Elena became more excited and looked to William for answers. As if reading her mind, he replies, ¡°that¡¯s an odd question, but, yes, the festival is still happening.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to go,¡± Elena replied. ¡°But my family is very traditional, and they believe the holiday is sinful.¡±
¡°Well, it looks like I¡¯ll be going this year,¡± the Royal Tree replies. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll see you, too. Enough of that, I¡¯ll tell you your fortune.¡±
Elena then thrusts her hand forward again, but the older woman shakes her head. ¡°No, no. I don¡¯t need anything like that. I just need to get a look at you.¡± She then focuses her eyes on Elena. While this woman appeared old and frail, her eyes shone with the strength and vigor of someone half her age.
¡°Ah, yes. You have a grand destiny shrouded in darkness as deep as the darkest night, but it will soon be revealed with the coming dawn.¡±
William scoffs again, clearly thinking this is pandering nonsense.
But, the old woman continues. ¡°I see your path leading you to a hungry ghost. You will know a man with a shadow as large as the night there.¡±
William, unable to take it any longer, then asks her directly. ¡°Do you actually know anything? About the Necromancer? Have you seen anyone matching the description?¡±
¡°I see what I see.¡± She smiled again as if looking at a child.
William, as if done with the situation, begins to leave. Elena pulls away and asks William if he wants his fortune read, but he keeps walking.
Chapter 7
"They made him seek his own. They used him like a dog in the service of destroying the jaan. If he were to be in Her service, then to be of use for Him and His flock is its own redemption. Turn now slave, turn against family and friend, join the light against the dark."
- Of Myth and Legend, Iteri and their use of the Necromancer.
Outside, William and Elena walked on the path leading away from the Royal Tree. It had been no more than ten minutes, but those ten minutes left Elena excited. She had been told her destiny, and it sounded vague and mysterious, like something out of her books. In her mind, the family she left is the darkness, and the Necromancer will guide her to the light.
William, however, looked at her sadly. While he walked beside her and her smiling face and energized body language, he wilted, knowing full well that there is no magic that can divine the fate of someone. Still, he continued forward through the path, considering potential places the Necromancer could be hiding, or where they could go next.
Back on the main road, Elena still talked about her destiny and how it was like she dreamed. They walked side by side on the road, not going back the way they came, or down the road towards the wall that would surely be there. Instead, they walked up, looking for any other hints of where the Necromancer might¡¯ve gone or hid.
Despite Elena¡¯s happiness, the lack of evidence, or hints to where the enigmatic figure had gone quickly wilted her energy. Each bush, tree, and stick were only as they were. No sign led to another path, and no tracks remained if he had gone through here. And while Shade bounded through the road and hid in the bushes only to repeat the feat, eyes glowing in the dark, it did not alleviate Elena¡¯s worry.
The Necromancer still evaded capture, and no grand destiny would bring him closer.
¡°Why don¡¯t you like fortune tellers?¡± She finally asks after having walked for dozens of minutes. ¡°I think they¡¯re pretty neat.¡±
As they continued walking, William turned his head from side to side, as if thinking through his answer. When he finally answered, his voice held a hint of resentment, ¡°I already know my fortune. In my life, I always meet misfortune. It always happens. One of my friends said that I¡¯ll keep standing. She hasn¡¯t been wrong. Other than that? Not even the Iteri could read someone¡¯s fortune.¡±
They continued to walk in silence for a moment longer. Each twisted tree and each shadow cast an ominous, yet comforting light against the path. The moon shone bright overhead, and the air pressed through them, running down the hills toward the city.
¡°Well, I think fortunes are cool, even if they¡¯re fake.¡±
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
¡°What¡¯s so good about being hurt over and over again, and making it into a promise?¡± He looks to his side, down at her with sad eyes, as if he¡¯d seen enough hurt in his life to make him want to give up. ¡°Besides, like I said, not even the Iteri could tell the future, just who you are.¡±
Elena and William continued like that for a time. Elena could understand that pain. While she had no idea what William had been through, it was easy to see that he had gone through enough to make him want to stop and give up. While he might not be the Necromancer, he was someone who could understand the pain inside. He¡¯s someone she could trust.
¡°So, who are the Iteri? In my books, they¡¯re the ones who enslaved the Necromancer before he was the Necromancer and turned him against people like him, but that¡¯s all it says.¡±
¡°They really don¡¯t say a lot in a lot of books, it¡¯s okay if you don¡¯t know,¡± he said, as he shifted his eyes to the ground. ¡°From what I know, they were just people who helped people be themselves. They hated the Necromancer, since his ¡®soul was tainted¡¯¡± he said with air quotes.
William sighed, then put his hands in his pockets. ¡°For everyone else, they would read your soul, tell you where your soul wants to go, and what it wants to go. They called it a draw and an urge. Then, they¡¯d help you grow, and understand yourself and what you want to do.¡±
He looked to Elena, eyes rapt with curiosity. ¡°That sounds like the old wise people in some stories. Or, like those wizards in the old stories, from the old world.¡±
William chuckled lightly. ¡°Well, yeah. Iteri is an old-world term for ¡®again¡¯¡± he laughed a bit more at that. ¡°Anyway, some stories say that if you really understand yourself and what you want to understand, then you¡¯d be able to connect to it, and with a bit of a push, make things more like themselves. Rocks become harder, swords become sharper, plants grow more, stuff like that.¡±
Elena, still excited, now held some confusion. ¡°That sounds sort of like what the church does, they can heal wounds and stuff since that¡¯s what the body wants to do..¡±
¡°Well,¡± William began, ¡°there¡¯s some evidence that the church adopted some of the Iteri beliefs before they fell.¡±
They talked for a time, about the church, Iteri, and what they could do. Rocks could be moved, plans could grow, and so much more. ¡°We can talk more about this later,¡± William said, more at ease now. ¡°But, that¡¯s my point, they can¡¯t tell the future.¡±
¡°I get it,¡± Elena said stepping out of the forest path, and onto the connecting one that led high up the city walls. A building stood next to where the hill led into a steep drop. The sides of the wall rose, this short wall only reached to their waist. The moon hung overhead, and before them lay a large untamed valley. Behind them, the city shone in the night. The wall of glass and steel shined bright against the dark sky, the Deuda itself a nearly black shadow in comparison.
¡°The city is so large,¡± she said breathlessly. William stood on the wall facing the empty field. Far in the distance, the faint light carved outlines of hills. The roads lead out into the distance, to other cities and homes.
Elena looked at the moon, ¡°it¡¯s so beautiful.¡±
¡°Yeah. If wish everyone could see the beauty in it.¡±
¡°When I was younger, I was afraid of it. But since my fall, it¡¯s grown on me. It was the first thing I saw.¡±
Next to them both, Shade walked on the side of the wall, a black streak against the grey stone.
¡°Can you imagine, ages ago, when the Necromancer came with his undead hoard of jaan to conquer the city? In my books, Sol fought the Necromancer and protected everyone. I¡¯d join the Necromancer now, of course, but can you imagine it?¡±
William, with a sad expression on his face, nods, ¡°yeah, I can imagine it.¡±
Chapter 8
With his freedom gone, his only choice was to act in the service of life. For the good of us all, he revealed the hiding places of all in service of Sin.
- Of Myth and Legend, Iteri and their use of the Necromancer.
The night had deepened. By the time William and Elena returned to the burned and decaying university, the night had deepened to a deep black, and the moon had drifted far ahead. At the entrance to the tower, they said their goodbyes and promised to continue the search tomorrow. William lingered a bit longer, taking in the decay and disuse of the bottom floor, noting how so much was left behind, uncared for.
He turned and began walking the grounds of the university. He noted the burn marks on many of the buildings. Scorched stone, fallen roofs, and once destroyed greenery that now overran their planters, spilling into the surrounding soil in some cases, and in others failing completely into a dried mess.
Still, William continued walking and thought to himself. He envisioned this school as a place of learning, full of life, people, and the pursuit of greater knowledge and truths. Days of the past that were no more. These thoughts and the lack of people in their hovels of broken brick and stone brought him to the theater.
He walked inside, and Erasmus joined him a moment later. He sang out triumphantly, ¡°there has been progress!¡± Much to William¡¯s annoyance, Erasmus had yelled right beside him. Erasmus strode forward, confident as always, and made his way through the crowd to the stage. Again, the curtains reminded William of silent guardians that still held nothing of importance between them, and yet Erasmus continued on in his self-important way. ¡°Some of our numbers spotted the Necromancer in a shopping center, but they can tell you for themselves.¡±
From where William stood, off to the side of the wall, near a ramp that led up to the stage, he spotted the group of three that Erasmus had referred to. Their bodies were covered in layer upon layer of cloth. Some of it clearly had been a jacket at some point, but was later covered by a shirt, flannel, or just a blanket. Their hands were covered and wrapped, as were two of their faces. The lone member whose face was not covered held a pallid complexion, his cheeks and eyes unnaturally sunken. And when he spoke, he spoke as if each breath was difficult. Clearly, he had been this way for far too long.
He recounted sitting on the street with the other two beside him, a box before them, as they had been begging for money. They were going to move from their spot and go to another plaza since nobody was around. When they got up to leave, they saw someone walking around the businesses in a coat.
At first, they thought it was just another person staying out late. Then, as the person kept walking around, they saw how pale he was, the color of his coat matched the description. It was long, and when he turned at the arc of the plaza, to look at an All Souls Festival shop, they saw his necklace dangling from his neck.
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At that point, they ran as quickly as they could after him. He didn¡¯t notice anything and continued walking, turning to the back of the plaza where trucks go to drop off goods. When they got there, not long after he turned, he was gone.
¡°He managed to get away fast,¡± the man said. ¡°Too fast¡to be normal. Must be him. Same look, same way of disappearing.¡±
William, still at his post against the wall, didn¡¯t shift his body or react to the story. In fact, as the crowd grew into a frenzy, demanding to go to the plaza to find the one who turned them into monsters, he felt less certain about doing anything. These people at the end of their rope, desperate,, and in need of help, were chasing shadows. How fast could these people walk? Chances are that whoever they saw just outwalked them, or noticed them and ran when they could. It was pointless. Senseless.
Erasmus raised his hands in a manner meant to calm them down. The group quickly responded by silencing their cries, looking to him for guidance.
¡°Worry not,¡± he began, eyeing each and every one of them. ¡°If we found him once, we¡¯ll find him again. He can¡¯t hide forever, and now that we have confirmation that my information is good, it¡¯s only a matter of time. He was at a plaza, let us focus on these places.¡±
The crowd began to cry out again, wanting to strike, and search now more than ever. But Erasmus spoke against this, ¡°we will continue tomorrow. The hunt continues. Our need for justice will be quenched.¡±
The group funneled out. Their cries and protests continued well after they had gone. William strode to the center of the stage and sat down at his usual spot, feet dangling off the stage, looking out at the empty seating area.
¡°There¡¯s been real progress, Will.¡± Erasmus stood on the ground. He looked up at William with eager, wild eyes. He felt like today had been a real victory, a step in the right direction.
¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± William smiled softly, happy that Erasmus saw progress where he saw continued decline.
¡°I¡¯m glad, too. Will, if you hadn¡¯t spoken to that girl, we¡¯d still be wandering around alleyways, and dismissing people. I¡¯m sure we would¡¯ve noticed the Necromancer sooner if we had known he was wearing a dam cloak. A few weeks ago, we would¡¯ve written it off as someone who was just a bit too cold.¡± He smiled at the humor.
William could see it. A man wearing a cloak was suspicious, but it could¡¯ve meant anything. But paired with the necklace, the sickly features, and the disappearance, it became easier to notice.
William shrugs, and Erasmus continues. ¡°Thanks for not being your usual gloomy self. I swear, you were so downtrodden to be dead, I was sure you¡¯d try to set yourself on fire. At least the girl is giving you a reason to get up every night.¡±
¡°I¡¯m just glad something good is coming from this,¡± William replies.
Erasmus bats Williams¡¯s dangling foot. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Will. We¡¯ll find him, bring him to the church, and then they¡¯ll heal us. They¡¯ll make it right.¡±
¡°Are you sure the church can help us?¡± William replied, almost with hope in his voice. He never believed in the church, but if they managed to undo this, then maybe they¡¯ve made progress and can heal more than superficial wounds.
¡°If anyone can, it¡¯s the church. They¡¯ve been bestowed the might and majesty of life itself by Sol. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll work out. It needs to work. I don¡¯t remember anything about myself, Will. I want to know who I am, and go home.¡±
Erasmus smiles, then turns to leave. On the way out, spoke out, ¡°we¡¯re going to coordinate more searches with the other members.¡± He said to the room, ¡°keep Elena busy, maybe she¡¯ll drop more clues, but keep her out of our way. We don¡¯t need her asking us too many questions.¡± And with that, he was gone.
Shade, the black void cat runs out of the shadows, and sits next to William, eager for scratches. As Shade purrs, William wonders what he should do.
Chapter 9
Even his friend fell to his hand. Nothing in life is sacred to him. He is Her servant eternal.
- Of Myth and Legend, Iteri and their use of the Necromancer.
Nahual drove into the parking lot of the police station. A single building among many, this one stood out for its age. Only two stories tall, the stone building still held an imposing figure against its larger, and smaller, brethren. Each corner, seemingly crafted from an individual tower, jutted outward in a cubical shape, pressing against the space dividing it from its neighbors. Atop each corner stood a raised wall of stone, like what one might expect a castle to possess. The grey stone shone out against the night, eternal, unyielding, much like the police themselves.
In the back of the building, Nahual exited the car. Packet and notebook in hand, he made his way through the lit parking lot into the police station. As he climbed the steps, he passed a group of three other officers. They were talking about how the moon gave them the creeps. Nahual, not the sociable type, silently agreed and headed for the door. The door itself was adorned with talismans, purple and green lights, and images of ghosts and other unnatural creatures.
Unnatural things Nahual thought.
Irritated, he opened the door to the station. He passed rows of heavy, wooden desks and people. Some were working on their paperwork, having huddles, or were on break. At his desk, Nahual started his nightly reports. He went through his notebook, marking instances he felt needed to be reported now, and others that didn¡¯t have quite enough importance to merit a full report but did merit a mention.
It paid to be thorough. In the report, he wrote on the patterns of homeless gatherings, noting how there seemed to be more than expected, and how they moved in the city. He then went on to describe the state of the roads in certain areas of La Viajar and the Deuda. He knew that the roads in La Viajar, the city of glass and steel, would be repaired. He also knew that any road work needed for the poorer section of the city would be put away until necessary, but he made the report anyway. Dangerous roads made it harder to drive through and ruined tires faster. If Chief Vedra saw it enough and saw the cost, he could get in touch with the proper channels and get it fixed.
When he finished, Nahual had written a report on the homeless, the streets, where he had been and for how long, and so on. He hadn¡¯t noticed anything outwardly devious, or even fiendish. Yet, the moon was full, and that could only bring bad news. He opened his report and made another note: the moon has so far not affected my cognition.
When he had finished, he heard the distant banging of a paperweight dropping against a wooden desk. Once, twice, thrice, and then it was done. ¡°Good evening everyone,¡± Chief Vedra began. He stood at the side of the room beside a corkboard of bulletins, and events in the city. ¡°Now, I don¡¯t have good news, but the Necromancer has been spotted in the city.¡±
The station, still silent, held a tension in the air. Some people smiled, others paled, and some didn¡¯t care at all. Chief Vedra continued.
¡°According to the reports, he¡¯s wearing a black rope and is carrying a wooden staff. Obviously, he¡¯s pale, etc. He¡¯s been spotted in some shopping districts and in some neighborhoods. In each instance, he¡¯s got the typical black robe and the staff.¡±
Chief Vedra then raised his arms, as if allowing the other officers to start talking. They took the cue greedily. The people in the building began to talk, unable to contain themselves. Chief Vedra allowed it to go on for a few minutes before he urged them to calm down.
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¡°We all knew this was coming since the moon turned full a few months ago. I know some of you are afraid and some are excited. It¡¯s normal to be afraid of being killed by that thing, and it¡¯s normal to want the church¡¯s reward.¡±
As he spoke, Nahual silently judged his fellow police. It was clear that the ones who were afraid were mere cowards, afraid of their holy duty to defend life, and all that matters in this world. As for the ones who wanted the reward? It was easy to see that they were no virtuous members of society, they only wanted to gain something. Nahual knew the importance of catching the Necromancer, the importance of preventing any harm from befalling anyone else. Killing the Necromancer is a god-granted mission that is ethical, justified, and moral. Corrupting that mission with reward taints that mission.
Vedra turned to the map beside him. He placed several pins on the map that depicted the circular, cut-in-half city. Some of the locations he pinned included the outer wall of the city, places where Nahual remembered it needing repairs, or where it had fallen altogether. One pin included the abandoned university, another was the club The Hungry Ghost. Chief Vedra finished off the spree of pins by placing several on parks and neighborhoods throughout the city.
¡°Those stationed in the Deuda will make it a priority to find and apprehend the Necromancer if given the chance. Proceed with caution, call in backup, and if it is possible, apprehend him. Now,¡± he bent down to pick up a cardboard box with stickers proclaiming it church property, ¡°I¡¯m going to be giving each of you a sunstone, direct from the church, blessed with the power of the sun.¡±
As the stones were passed out, some officers taking several at once to give to their brethren, Vedra continued. ¡°Remember, do not cause a scene,or interrupt your usual duties. The least amount of people who know that the Necromancer is actively out there, the better.¡±
With the last of the stones out, one in each officer¡¯s hand, he wiped his hands against each other and looked out over the crowd. ¡°The moon might signal that he¡¯s back, but him showing up is another matter. We don¡¯t want to cause another panic. We don¡¯t want a repeat of last time.¡±
His aged eyes scanned the room as if attempting to read a sign that they all understood. When satisfied, he straightened. ¡°When the Necromancer is caught, we and the church will release a joint statement. The church also wants the Necromancer, alive this time, since they didn¡¯t get a chance to perform the exorcism last time. I received word that the church believes that is why he¡¯s arrived so soon.¡±
He paused again before continuing, this time addressing the fearful people in the room. ¡°If the Necromancer gets close to you, you¡¯ll know. He¡¯s like those old monsters, the Jaan, or Sin Herself. You will feel fear and the feeling of imminent death upon you. If you feel it, and you have no visual, get out of there.¡±
He let the tension and importance of his words hang in the air. He cleared his throat and lifted a pile of papers. ¡°On to more normal news, the number of homeless in the city is a bit higher than in past years, but crime is down. Good work everyone.¡±
Chief Vedra ends the meeting, signaling the rest of the officers to start talking. Many are talkative, happy for the prospect of the Necromancer being alive so close to the festival. Others are worried, or scared, and still more talk about what they¡¯d wish for.
Nahual, meanwhile, finished up his work and placed his supplies on his desk. Inside the topmost drawer is a burned picture of him holding a woman with long, wavy black hair, and a little girl in their arms. A twist in his chest tightens. The reason escapes him, and emotion fuels him. Thoughts of destroying Sin, the Necromancer, and all of the Jaan run through his mind, back to a burning house that he couldn¡¯t reach in time.
If She was gone, then they wouldn¡¯t be dead. No one would have to suffer like this.
Nahual believes that Sin targeted him for his strong beliefs and his devotion to Intli. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. Once out of the moment, he wondered if the girl he saw was okay. She¡¯d be about my daughter¡¯s age, now.
Nahual stood and gathered his things and didn¡¯t look at the other officers. He heads out the door, and into the city, as dawn breaks through the night. Across the street, passed the parking lot, is an image painted onto the wall, easily seen from the station. ¡°PANIC¡±, written in hurried paint. Next to it is an image of a scythe.
Chapter 10
People have reported the sensation of being watched, followed, or a dip in temperature. Sometimes, people claim to have seen ghosts, or moving shadows. These events are often attributed to jaan, though no sighting has ever been confirmed.
- Of Myth and Legend, El Viajar and the Deuda
Elena awoke in the tower, surrounded by wrappers, and wrapped in a salvaged blanket. She yawned, stretched, and then stood, peering out over the twinkling city far beyond the black hill the university stood on. She turned, inspecting the room she now called home. Cleaner now than when she found it, it still held signs of disuse and decay that eventually started to bring comfort to her. It was quiet. No yelling, no fighting, just her and the night air.She pulled on her shoes, then brushed the wrappers aside with her foot, and headed for the door.
Outside, down beside the fountain, Elena found William, staring at the moon and the church as he tended to do. ¡°How¡¯d you sleep?¡± He asked her.
¡°Like the dead,¡± she replied with a smile. However, the truth of it was that she had awoken a few times, the light beams creeping in hurting her eyes. She stood beside William, eyes to the sky where the moon hung, and Rykard stood, a stark figure against the light. Before long, she turned to William again, and asked, ¡°ready to go?¡±
They started walking through the university, like the time before, and like tomorrow, she was sure. While it hadn¡¯t been long since she came here, it already felt like home. As they walked, Elena pointed out some of the burned-out areas, noting how interesting some of them looked. Some areas had plants growing into the gaps, and others showed scorch marks extending beyond. She wondered what had caused the fire.
William gave a weak smile, as if he wanted to answer the questions, but didn¡¯t feel like he should. That was fine, she liked a bit of mystery, and the history of the school was one she thought warranted investigation.
¡°So,¡± Elena started, turning the conversation to William, who walked beside her as a complacent guardian, ¡°how old are you anyway?¡± She didn¡¯t expect him to answer, but he had an answer ready.
¡°I should be about twenty. What about you? You can¡¯t be older than me.¡± He nudged her slightly with his hip, catching her off guard.
¡°I turned nineteen a few months ago, thank you very much.¡± He laughed at that, a sound that echoed through the night air between them, and into the dead neighborhood around them. They had wandered into another neighborhood, and like the rest, the roads and sidewalk were cracked and uncarred.
¡°I assume you¡¯re from here, too? What did you do for fun when you were alive?¡±
William tilted his head side to side, as it considering his answer carefully. ¡°I¡¯m from the other side,¡± he pointed in the direction the wall of glass and steel would be if they could see it. From their vantage, low into a dip in the road, only the top gleaming portion could be seen jutting against the sky. ¡°I didn¡¯t really like going out too much. Reading is pretty fun, I had a friend who got me into it.¡±
¡°Me too!¡± Elena says, unable to contain herself. ¡°I like reading old stories, some myths, some histories. I think it¡¯s pretty cool how things used to be. Have you read the ¡®Of Myth and Legend¡¯ series? It has little excerpts that are really cool, and -¡±
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He looked down at her and smiled. Elena realized that she had started talking too much. She was about to apologize, but William spoke first.
¡°Nah, I haven¡¯t read that book, but I know a bit of history. I tend to read whatever I can. If we could find a decent book we could read it together, but we don¡¯t.¡± He sighed as if imagining the chance to read together was an impossibility.
Elena, not one to drop the conversation, continued. She asked him, ¡°what did you want to do in life? I mean, now we can¡¯t exactly do what we wanted, but what did you want?¡±
He seemed startled for a moment, before asking her, ¡°I¡¯m not too sure. What did you want to do?¡±
¡°I¡¯ve always liked stories and history. I hoped to someday write historical stories, or maybe just write or learn history. Aside from that, I¡¯ve always wanted to meet the Necromancer. Even before all of this, I wanted to just talk to him, and understand what he went through.¡±
¡°Why do you want to meet him so bad, anyway? It¡¯s pretty odd for someone in this day and age.¡±
They rounded a corner to a shopping center. Each business was closed or in the process of closing. Some cars dotted the lot, but no more than a handful. It took a minute for Elena to respond to the question because she wasn¡¯t exactly sure either.
¡°When I was little, I remember the first thing I heard about him was that he killed his only friend. My church said it was because he was a monster, but why would he hurt someone close to him? I guess, I assumed it was an accident.¡± She frowned, not quite pleased with her answer. ¡°If that¡¯s not it, then it was because of what the church preached caring for other people, and why not care for someone who was being used by Sin?¡±
Elena frowned again and stopped where she stood on the sidewalk. To her left the road continued on into the distance, to her right the plaza curved around. She looked to William again, not exactly sure how to explain that she just does care, and there¡¯s no real reason for it other than she simply did. He looked at her confused, unsure of what was happening.
¡°I think I just do. I mean, I think, even if my church didn¡¯t do anything, or I didn¡¯t learn to be nice to people, I¡¯d still feel bad for him. Yeah.¡± The revelation stuck out to her, as a point of interest in her heart. The realization fit as if a piece of her that wasn¡¯t aware of itself, suddenly became that much more aware of what it meant to be Elena.
William started walking again, and Elena started following. As they made their way down, a few steps from where they had stopped, William spoke up. ¡°You¡¯re a rare kind of person, Elena. You¡¯re the kind of person that can care, even when it doesn¡¯t make sense.¡± He wrapped one arm around her and held her tight. ¡°Thank you.¡± Then he released her.
Elena smiles outwardly, but inside a piece of her believes that it¡¯s wrong to care, that it¡¯s wrong somehow. William, seeming to sense her distress, continued to talk.
¡°I knew someone like you a long time ago. She was great. People loved to be around her, they depended on her. She taught people to care. She was always curious and kind. She¡¯s the one who got me to start reading more.¡± He paused to laugh and again looked to the sky. ¡°I was at a dark point in my life, Elena, but she gave me a reason to keep going.¡±
Elena, feeling relieved that there are others out there like her, visibly relaxed. ¡°She sounds great, I wish I could be like her. I¡¯m sorta just me.¡±
¡°But you¡¯re great. You went out, and you¡¯re now going to find the Necromancer, to live your dream. If that¡¯s not enough, I can tell you about her over time. The most important thing about her was her kindness. Believe me, I understand not liking yourself. In my case, I try to be like her, too, but I¡¯m so different that it¡¯s hard sometimes.¡±
William shook his head and hung it low. He took a deep breath, and they crossed another street and found another empty plaza.
¡°I¡¯d love to meet her someday.¡± Elena tries to smile, but William holds a pained expression, one of regret and sadness. He looked into the distance, unable to look Elena in the eye.
¡°She died some time ago now. Honestly, I wasn¡¯t supposed to know her, and some people really didn¡¯t like me or the fact that I was around her. They found out, and they killed her. I couldn¡¯t save her, even though she saved me.¡± He looked as though he struggled to hold back tears, his breathing shaky.
¡°It sounds sort of like a gang attack.¡±
¡°You could say that,¡± William replied.
They stopped just outside of a building, nestled past several plazas and parking lots. The sign read, ¡°The Hungry Ghost.¡±
Chapter 11
A few days after the suffragist movement, the university became engulfed in flames. Individuals believe the cause to be a jaan, but others believe it was an attack on the institute for instilling radical ideas in the minds of the populace.
- Of Myth and Legend, El Viajar and the Deuda
They stood outside in the silence. The night had deepened to the point where any sign of life appeared magical and dangerous. Smells calmed, and the silent attitude of the night had grown to its strongest. Facing the club, the Hungry Ghost, Elena looked on in mocked delight, and William openly smiled at the cubic building. ¡°Is this everything you hoped for?¡± He asked, somewhat mockingly.
Elena looked at him, mouth agape, unsure of why they should be there. With confusion plastered upon her face, William decided to explain. ¡°Well, some of the wording from the fortune teller reminded me of this place. And, well, why not try it out?¡±
Elena smiled, and poked him, square in the shoulder, ¡°you¡¯re not supposed to believe in fortune telling.¡±
William shrugged, and smiled, all worry and tension from moments before melting away. ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± he said, crossing his arms, ¡°but the bar sounds like a good idea right now. It¡¯s a decent place to look, and there¡¯s some ¡®counter-culture¡¯ here.¡± He smiled down at her, eyes alight in a way that signaled to her that she¡¯d enjoy this. He walked, and Elena moved to follow him.
When they neared the door, Shade ran out from the shadows of a bush nearby, stopped at their feet, and rolled around on the group, flipping over once, twice, three times. He stopped, ears pointed back, his eyes darted to the bushes on the other side of the street, and he ran for it. The rustling sound of leaves signaled that he stayed nearby, but that, too, quickly faded.
They both laughed before heading inside, remarking at how odd a cat Shade is.
Inside, the scent of cooked food, beer, and music greeted them. If the outside air danced like a gentle current, the inside of the club kept in place in a thick, muggy sort of way. On the far side of the club, the three-man band played, the banner behind them displaying their name, ¡°Last Panic.¡± Each member, the singer, guitarist, and drummer, each had white paint plastered on their faces, with black painted around their eyes and lips.
¡°Notice anything about the band?¡± William turned to look at Elena, who stood, mouth agape at the sight of people emulating the dead.
¡°They¡¯re dressed up like Jaan.¡± A smile slowly crept over her face, and then she looked to William, ¡°they like the Necromancer?¡±
William, in his typical way, tipped his head one way, and then to the other before replying. ¡°Sort of, you might say that they¡¯re big fans?¡± In Elena¡¯s eyes, he didn¡¯t look too pleased, but all the same, she felt glad to be there.
They started walking through the club. Some people sat at tables, others danced on the floor. As they walked, William explained, ¡°some people see the Necromancer as ¡®anti-establishment¡¯, I¡¯m told that it means he¡¯s a source of rebellion against the church and state.¡± They walked through the crowd, finding a recently emptied, round table. They sat and looked out over the crowd.
¡°What¡¯s wrong with the church and state?¡± Elena asked, unsure if she¡¯d like the answer.
¡°I¡¯m not sure, but, based on what people here have told me, all you have to do is look outside to understand what¡¯s wrong with it.¡± He started counting off grievances, one for each finger on his hand, ¡°all the money goes to the larger businesses. It goes to the church. It goes to whoever the church favors. The Deuda is poor, the roads are cracked, and there¡¯s hardly any jobs here.¡± He finished counting and then threw his hands in the air. ¡°I don¡¯t pay attention to it too much, but these guys view the Necromancer as a figurehead of freedom, rebellion, against what the church wants. Whatever the church doesn¡¯t want is what they do want at this point.¡±
William puts his head in his hand and then smiles. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of ¡®em here. It¡¯s pretty cool.¡± Elena started thinking it over, the confusion visible on her face. William turned away and looked at the crowd. ¡°I¡¯m going to go ask around, see if anyone matches the description we¡¯re looking for.¡±
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William left to the crowd, leaving Elena at the table, alone with her thoughts. She hadn¡¯t considered that the reason for the Deuda¡¯s poor state might¡¯ve been the church. Honestly, it didn¡¯t make sense to her. The other half of El Viajar stood tall, rich against the night and day with its glass buildings. The Deuda, with its cracked roads, old homes, and low-to-the-ground businesses always seemed like an, ¡°it just is¡± sort of fixture in her life.
When William returned, the distress hadn¡¯t left her face. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry about it too much. Like I said, I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s true or not. If it is, then there¡¯s nothing we can do to change it.¡± He gave her a pitying look, ¡°don¡¯t dwell on it. Come on.¡±
They started through the crowd, side by side, looking through the rest of the club that William hadn¡¯t checked for signs of anyone matching the description, and asking others about it. Elena repeated what she saw faithfully to many people. Each person, however, hadn¡¯t seen anyone with that description.
As they made their journey, the band stopped playing, and the singer called out to William.
¡°William? Will! It is you! It¡¯s been forever.¡± The singer motioned to William, urging him to come closer.
¡°Forever? It¡¯s only been a few weeks,¡± William replied, the crowd looked at him. Many people clearly had no idea who William was, but many others, upon him being pointed out, held looks of pure recognition. Some people looked like they knew it was William but were afraid to say anything.
¡°Come on, come up and sing, Will.¡± The singer jumped down from the stage, skeletal makeup clear and stark against the light. The shadows almost made it look real in Elena¡¯s eyes.
¡°Come on, Sonverte. It¡¯s been too long, I¡¯m all rusty.¡±
¡°Nonsense!¡± Sonverte takes William by the hand and guides him up the stage. ¡°One song, just one song.¡± He turned to the crowd, ¡°for those of you who don¡¯t know, you¡¯re in for a treat.¡± He jumped down and joined Elena at a nearby table. Up close, she could see the studs of his belt and the wear on his black jacket and pants.
William, by comparison, wore a striped red and grey shirt, blue jeans, and tennis shoes. He almost seemed too clean compared to Elena and the other people. His clothes almost looked new, despite the fact that Elena had seen him wear the same clothes the day before. Elena could see him talking to the other bandmates beside him, clearly asking for what song to play. Next to her, Sonverte roared aloud, ¡°play It¡¯s Time to Panic!¡±
William gave a thumbs up, and mouthed, ¡°okay¡± before grabbing the mic.
¡°I didn¡¯t know he could sing,¡± Elena said, more of a question than a statement.
The song started slow. The electric guitar built up the melody, followed by the drums. Once it reached a certain point, William started singing.
I woke up,
I started to move,
Nothing else mattered,
So I¡
Started to Panic.
The guitar filled in the space as William waited for a few beats to continue.
The night took me,
I felt like a zombie,
I felt alone,
I heard a cry,
I smelt the dead,
So I¡
Started to Panic
Started to Panic
Started to Panic
Elena didn¡¯t think the song was that great. But, to her ear, the sound of the electric guitar and drums mixed with Williams singing, brought tears to her eyes. While not obvious to anyone else, the song clearly described how William remembered becoming undead. He must¡¯ve been afraid, she thought.
Sonverte looked over at Elena, and asked her, ¡°you feel it, too?¡±
Elena nods, and asked him, ¡°why is everyone so happy, but I feel so sad?¡±
¡°Most people get excited,¡± he explained. ¡°I¡¯m not sure why, but some people cry. I feel it, right here,¡± he beat his fist against his chest. ¡°Will has talent. He has the power to make you feel things.¡±
Sonverte focuses on the music, eyes closed, as if he could will himself to take in the music completely.
As the song came to a close, Elena and Sonverte stopped crying and began to clap. ¡°Woo!¡± Elena cried out as best she could.
William hopped off the stage and strode directly to the singer. ¡°I know you¡¯re confused. I came here a couple of months ago and sang once. Now, whenever I show up, they ask me to sing.¡± William eyed Sonverte, then smiled.
¡°Everyone loves your singing, Will.¡±
¡°Can¡¯t imagine why, I suck at it.¡±
They talk for a few moments longer. William asked if he had seen anyone by the description Elena gave, leaving out the detail that it could be the Necromancer. As they left the club, the night air quietly wrapped around them. All smiles and sense of good nature left William, leaving him the somber man he had been on the walk up.
¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Elena asked, unsure of how to proceed.
¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong,¡± he replied, leading them into another neighborhood.
¡°But you¡¯re not smiling anymore, aren¡¯t you happy you got to see your friends?¡±
William didn¡¯t need a moment to think of his answer. ¡°The smiles are for the people inside, and I¡¯m worn out.¡±
Elena nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. They continued on to the university. They kept an eye out and talked about where they could look next.
Chapter 12
¡®When the university burned, I saw animals staring at the flame. It was like they were watching for something.¡±
- Of Myth and Legend, El Viajar and the Deuda
A few days later, after another trip into the Deuda consisting of looking through parking lots and parks and checking businesses, Wiliam bid goodbye to Elena. The nightly walks still wore her out, but she gradually became used to it. They¡¯d traveled farther, and more often, always avoiding other encampment members with William¡¯s guidance.
William watched Elena climb the steps to her room. A part of him was glad that that this university finally had a purpose, a reason for existing, again. He began to wander through the university and talked to Shade who ran from the shadows to his side. Shade would stay a few moments, side by side with William on the stoney path, and then sprint off into the dark before coming back.
¡°I wish it was all over, Shade. I want it to all be done, I just want to rest.¡± Shade turned and rested on his haunches. His regality as a cat made prominent, he looked at William with a look of sadness. Then, he walked forward and rubbed his face and body against William¡¯s leg. He began to purr, loud enough for Willaim to hear.
¡°I know,¡± William replied, ¡°but I¡¯ll be back before you know it. With me gone, you and the others will be safe.¡± William knelt down and rubbed his hands against his shadow friend¡¯s ears. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure that you¡¯re safe. Wherever there is shade, that is where you will be.¡± William recited the line, one that reminded Shade of easier times.
He stood and continued walking towards the fountain. He stared for a time at the staff jutting out of the statue of Rykard. The fountain to his back, and the church and sky before him, he spoke aloud, voicing his thoughts, ¡°you should¡¯ve died a long time ago.¡± William sat on his fountain edge, in his usual contemplative spot. The dried fountain, a silent guardian bearing witness to his thoughts.
It didn¡¯t take long for Erasmus to find him. He emerged from the dark, and said, ¡°I knew you¡¯d be here. He stood before the fountain as William sat. Erasmus began in his usual animated way, arms moving around, excited, energized. ¡°I met with the others,¡± he began, ¡°and they all agree. They think that we¡¯ll find the Necromancer during the upcoming Seasons Change Festival, the All Souls Festival.¡±
William sat, eyes not fully focused, ears not fully registering the meaning in the words that Erasmus spoke. The need to sleep invaded him from the inside, and attempted to drag him under, to let him rest. He rubbed at his eyes, and replied, ¡°why do you think this is?¡±
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Erasmus wasted no time in explaining. ¡°Some of the others saw a hooded figure near some of the supply buildings for the festival. They didn¡¯t see his face, but the robe and necklace matched. He had a purple robe, pale skin, a hooked nose, no facial hair, and a weird necklace.¡±
A smile, a genuine, honest smile spread across Erasmus¡¯ face. His pale skin contrasted sharply with the stone behind him. The church had burn marks on the sides of the building stone, but Erasmus stood in sharp, pale, dignity with Erasmus far below him. He continued, ¡°we can¡¯t be sure it¡¯s not the cult, but it¡¯s still something to go on. And wherever the cult is, that¡¯s where the Necromancer should be.¡±
¡°And he¡¯s usually near festival supplies,¡± William replied, stifling a yawn. He stretched and rolled his shoulders. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s going to sabotage the festival? It¡¯s a good lead. I¡¯ll go to the festival with Elena, he might be able to pick him out of the crowd.¡±
Erasmus clapped his hands and smiled more deeply. ¡°Yes! With this, our torture will end. We¡¯ll turn in the Necromancer, and be free of this.¡± The outcasts turn on one of their own. The other eating its own tail. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to eating something nice when I¡¯m alive again. What do you want to eat?¡±
William smiled, ¡°I¡¯d like to eat pancakes. I¡¯ve never had any before.¡±
***
The next night, William, Erasmus, and Elena talked. After she came down, the two told her their ideas, and how they thought the Necromancer would show up at the festival.
¡°That¡¯s perfect timing!¡± She said, barely able to contain her enthusiasm. ¡°The All Souls Festival, and the Necromancer, ah!¡±
¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re on board,¡± Erasmus replied. ¡°So, the idea is that we¡¯ll wear costumes, blend into the crowd, and not stand out. A group of homeless, dirty people would draw a lot of attention.¡±
They both turn to William, with his clean, almost new clothes. ¡°Well, maybe you just need a costume.¡±
William looked at his clothes and then scoffed. ¡°How are your clothes so neat, anyway?¡± Elena asked, genuinely curious.
¡°Don¡¯t mind him,¡± Erasmus said. ¡°He just likes his clothes clean. We bothered him about it before, and his clothes just ended up nice and neat. He¡¯s meticulous for a member of the homeless undead. Ironic.¡±
William didn¡¯t try to correct them. He didn¡¯t care to, but when he spoke, he did agree, ¡°yeah, it¡¯d be nice to get different clothes. Elena¡¯s been wearing the same thing for weeks now.¡±
William smiled, and Erasmus smiled in turn, ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re happier, my gloomy friend.¡± He then turned and began to walk away, ¡°I¡¯ll see you two later.¡±
Soon, William and Elena were wandering together, side by side towards a donation box. Only a few blocks away, located within one of the plazas. The box itself was metal, large, and unyielding. They opened the side, and a large assortment of clothes tumbled out.
Elena knelt down, and began sifting through the pile, looking for something she¡¯d like. She put aside a pink sweater, a blue sweater, jeans, a black shirt, and a white dress. When she grabbed a black jacket with a hood, she got a look as if she were inspired.
¡°If we get some black face paint, we can make you look like a spooky skeleton, like the band we saw.¡± She held the jacket up to Wiliam¡¯s chest and checked to see if it¡¯d fit.
William smiled in return, and asked, ¡°does wearing that white dress make you the Sun iteri.¡± He nudged her slightly with his shoulder. She held it up, and pressed it against her torso.
¡°That¡¯s not a bad idea. I¡¯d need to get a staff, though. Too bad there aren¡¯t any props in the pile.¡± The laughed for a time, before beginning their nightly trek.
Chapter 13
¡°My cat Midnight, looked at the fire from my balcony. He kept watching until the fires died out.¡±
- Of Myth and Legend, El Viajar and the Deuda
The pair continued through the Deuda. They wandered through parking lots, churches, and businesses, all familiar icons, fixtures of the night. But, it all melted together. They had followed the same path, more or less, for weeks now. The night grew to its usual strength, its power enveloping their bodies, and the light of the moon invading their eyes and sense of majesty.
As they followed the path, talking about odds and ends, and the history of the city, they spotted the church that Elena had seen that first day.They stopped in the field, side by side, and noted the cracked walls, the greyed stone, and the homeless praying beside the stained glass windows. Each window held bars over it, symbols of Intli, the Sun God¡¯s power. Rays of light, images of growing fields, and people working dotted the imagery.
Each homeless, whether they be wrapped from head to toe in clothes, or if they only covered their bodies, each knelt and prayed to the imagery. Elena couldn¡¯t hear it, couldn¡¯t know it or understand it, not really. To her, the Sun God held only iconic value, but not any real, or overt power. If it held power or any meaning, then it would¡¯ve been taught and practiced in the church. Her situation proved that all to be a lie.
They continued on, the night air growing cooler around them, tempting them. ¡°The end of a day is the birth of night,¡± William said. He often said things like that at night, poetic, yet obvious.
¡°Duh,¡± Elena said, in mock irritation.
¡°No, no, you don¡¯t get it,¡± William began. ¡°When the day dies, it becomes night, only to be reborn again! Like the Necromancer you love so much.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t love him!¡± Elena gave him a shove, and they both laughed.
Over the last few weeks, they had gotten to know each other and had become more comfortable with each other. It was like they had known each other for years.
¡°Anyway, it¡¯s a symbolic thing. I read it in an old book. It was a line that talked about the relationship between day and night, and how they¡¯re connected, like life and death.¡±
¡°What else did it say?¡±
¡°Oh, nothing. The author was murdered for preaching blasphemy. Death is the absence of life, after all.¡±
They stopped laughing at that, and instead continued on in silence, taking in the night as it is.
They continued their walk, Elena¡¯s eyes drifted to the telephone poles, and the trees, and the benches. Every day they walked, she never saw a single poster asking about her. No flier about her being missing, or anyone looking for her. Nothing. Instead, wherever she looked, she saw decorations for the holiday.
Houses had pumpkins, orange lights that pierced the night, images of ghosts, cobwebs, and pictures of the Necromancer, of course, joined them. Along with these decorations, slogans grew as if out of the dark. Have a Happy All Souls or Treats and Tricks were the most common. Most of it seemed silly or corny to her. Yet, the knowledge that she never saw a single missing girl poster for her, that fact alone bothered her and kept her from truly enjoying the moment.
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Her eyes drifted from her surroundings to William. Despite the fact that her parents clearly didn¡¯t want her, and the Necromancer remained hidden, he stayed by her side. He kept her company and showed her new places. The fortune teller, the club, and now the costumes they got a few minutes ago. He was there, every day. He didn¡¯t notice her sadness, but it wasn¡¯t necessary, not this time.
They walked until they reached the Deuda line, the long street that divided the city into two. The large buildings of glass reflected the low buildings in a dark, murky reflection. The mirror of the line held so perfectly flat that from where they stood, it was like the entire city could be low, broken, and sprawling out of need.
When they looked up, the mirror bled into the sky, becoming one with the sky that surrounds the planet. Down, where they stood, the street was plain and dirty, save for the decorations on either side and the concrete walls that rose from the ground to meet the glass. Pumpkins, orange bulbs, skulls, and more were hung on the businesses on the Deuda side of the street.
They walked down the entire length of the street. People jogged on the side of the mirror, the side with light. Elena wanted to go there and explore El Viajar proper, but each time she brought it up, just like today, he made a good point, ¡°we¡¯d just stand out.¡±
And each time, she replied with, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t, not with your clean and nearly new clothes.¡±
Each time she brought this up, he replied, ¡°I need to get dirty again.¡±
They continued walking, talking about the festival, how large it would be, and what to expect. ¡°I heard that the festival takes up the entire street. There used to be a parade, but having booths, and keeping the street clear for walking was more lucrative,¡± William said.
¡°They can¡¯t have it in the Deuda, or the other side?¡± Elena asked, genuinely curious.
¡°Well, I heard that if there were a parade, then people wouldn¡¯t stay with the booths. Or, they¡¯d stay with the booths and miss the parade. They had to choose one.¡± William replied matter-of-factly, inspecting a small inlet in the street, one of many places they thought someone could hide.
Many lanes or alleys, led into the Deuda. If someone were to start deeper in, they could run and be on the main street quickly, if they knew the way. ¡°It¡¯d be hard to stop anyone from running,¡± Elena said, noting William¡¯s frustration. Every street they saw led quickly, easily into the Deuda¡¯s winding streets and alleys.
¡°It¡¯s hard to say how it¡¯ll go,¡± he began after looking into another alleyway. ¡°If there are booths here, then it¡¯d be difficult for anyone to get in or out. I¡¯m not sure what to expect. If they start from the Deuda, they¡¯d be able to get her easily, but leaving is hard.¡± He pointed to an alleyway, and after a time, Elena¡¯s eyes adjusted to the dim light, and saw the end of the short road.
¡°If someone were in a hurry, they¡¯d end up here. Not much of a hiding place, but it¡¯s easy to get caught.¡±
¡°Yeah, so I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll be hiding in here, he¡¯ll probably show up the day of the festival, from much further in the Deuda.¡±
On their side of the street stood large businesses, nothing like the grand wall of glass, but each building created an alleyway. They inspected each one, noting any potential hiding places, but, still, there were none that the Necromancer could reasonably use. Elena smiled, glad to have that piece of information ready for later. ¡°Wherever the Necromancer is coming from, it¡¯ll be from further in, and it¡¯ll be sudden.¡± William nodded in agreement.
They continued walking, all the way to the other end of the street, to the other end of the stone wall that surrounds the city. They looked up and stared at the wall. While the glass wall melted into the sky, becoming one with it, this stone wall stood as an imperious figure, unmoving, uncaring, godlike in its dereliction. Recent repairs were nowhere to be found, but it was clear that whoever had made it, or repaired it, had done it well.
They turn at the street end and begin their trek back to the university.
Chapter 14
¡°¡®Shape was not ours to choose.¡¯ This phrase is carved into several places within El Viajar. It¡¯s believed to be from the days the wall was formed. Some scholars believe the phrase is related to the Iteri and their esoteric beliefs.¡±
- Of Myth and Legend, El Viajar and the Deuda
After hours of walking, inspecting dark corners of the city, and talking about whatever came to mind, William and Elena arrived at the university. At the tower that they both associated with her, William bid Elena goodnight. She disappeared up the stairs, her robe-like dress in hand. ¡°I¡¯m glad she¡¯s happy,¡± William said to the shapeless air.
William began his usual walk through the university. Each building he passed, was familiar, old, and decaying. There was a time when he marveled at the sight, but now each building reflected who lived within, a decaying, half-living corpse. Through the path he walked, William saw that all of the lights were off.
¡°They¡¯re probably all at the theater,¡± William said to the darkness. He stopped, and knelt, his hand nearly touching the concrete walkway. Shade bounded through the shadows to his hand, and rolled around, just below his hand. William readily pet his dark friend, who purred soundly. ¡°Stay safe out there, alright Shade?¡±
Shade looked up from licking his side, his tongue held out in a slight way that looked absolutely silly on his face. William pet him again behind the ears before rising to his feet. He continued to the theater.
From outside, William saw the amassed group. Each person bickered. Nobody seemed happy. William walked through the crowd, taking his usual place on the stage where he watched the people around him. They were more animated than usual. More aggressive, more concerned.
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Erasmus eventually showed up, hands raised in his usual way, and calmed the group. He joined William on the stage, though William kept his eyes on the crowd, gauging their reaction. Though they never stated it, they didn¡¯t like that he sat there.
¡°For those of you who don¡¯t know,¡± Erasmus began, ¡°we¡¯ve found the Necromancer.¡±
William scanned the group for their reactions, most of them did know this, but he also noticed some people were missing. He¡¯d have to tell Erasmus later. But, the group looked disturbed. Some looked excited, but others were worried as if this revelation came at a cost.
¡°The Necromancer is a priest in the church.¡± If Erasmus hadn¡¯t spoken with such conviction, William was certain that the group would have turned violent. Instead, only vocal outrage swept through the group. Many cried out that they didn¡¯t believe it, others were sad, likely dejected at their chances at humanity, and others were only scared. After a time, Erasmus continued.
¡°We saw a picture of the priest. Some of our people saw him in person. He matches what I saw.¡± Erasmus pointed to the group that saw him in the plaza, urging them forward, and handed them the picture of the priest from an All Souls Festival flier. They took one look at the picture each and confirmed the truth of Erasmus¡¯ words.
¡°Since he¡¯s in the church, we know he¡¯ll be at the festival.¡± Erasmus¡¯ tone held a dark, defeated cast as if he didn¡¯t want it to be true either. He quickly shed all doubt and continued, clad in his usual fervor and power, ¡°we saw him near the supplies. He may still be planning something. We don¡¯t know if he is working with the church, or if he¡¯s going to harm it. We need to be there, we need to prevent any harm from coming their way.¡±
William watched the group, their emotions turned with Erasmus¡¯ words. No longer were they defeated, or fearful, they were united in purpose. Erasmus explained the plan. For the most part, it was comprised of being ready and waiting for the priest to appear. ¡°We will prevent any harm from befalling the church. We have our purpose, it is not as his puppets. We act in service of life itself. What better chance to prove ourselves, than to turn in a false priest on such a holy day?¡±
The entire group, united in purpose, turns in for the morning. They all turned to leave for the day, glad in their mission, all worries and fears forgotten for the moment.
William nodded along and watched the group leave, glad that the end neared.Once the priest is found, then he can disappear again, he can rest.
Chapter 15
¡°¡®The Giver of Gifts came to us in our time of need. He showed us the way.¡¯ This message comes from a fragment recovered from the Iteri Library. Scholars can find no other reference to this gift giver. Many speculate that the character is metaphorical in nature, and never existed.¡±
- Of Myth and Legend, The Lost Iteri
Nahual hunched over his desk, pen in hand, filling out paperwork. Another day of patrolling the Deuda, and while nothing changed, he felt obligated in his duty to fill out his reports. While others complained or did the bare minimum, he ensured accuracy and up-to-date information in each report. The Deuda might not change, but the daily duties or goals might, it was his job to ensure that everything ran smoothly, even if the other cops didn¡¯t see it that way.
He finished his work just as Chief Vedra strode to the side of the room beside the two boards he used. Chief Vedra waited a few minutes for all eyes to focus on him, it didn¡¯t take long, and Nahual respected him all the more for that commanding presence.
¡°To start with, everyone, be sure to keep your sunstones close at hand at all times. This is a reminder to ensure your own protection against the jaan, and a reminder so that you can all be able to capture any you find, if given the chance, of course.¡± He inspected the room and pulled his own small, white stone from his breast pocket. Nahual did the same, pulling the small stone from his jacket pocket, beside where he kept his badge. He pulled the stone out and inspected its smooth, worn surface. It felt faintly warm, alive. ¡°These are your lifeline, don¡¯t forget it,¡± he finished.
Chief Vedra continued again, this time taking a darker tone. ¡°Necromancer sightings have increased. Therefore, the likelihood that he will attack has risen as well. Those in the church believe that he will attack during the festival¡± He waited, letting his words sink in. Chief Vedra scanned the group of officers, first to the good cops who could do a good job, but were scarred by the jaan. Then he went and looked at the officers who would be more than happy to run into danger if it meant capturing the Necromancer. Lastly, he looked at the officers like Nahual, those who did what was necessary for public safety, fear or reward be damned, it was about getting the job done. When Chief Vedra looked at Nahual, they both nodded in acknowledgment of what needed to be done.
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¡°We have word that the Necromancer is wearing a black and red robe with a hood, a wooden staff, and a necklace of bones.¡± Chief Vedra grabbed from a pile at his side and pinned an artist¡¯s rendering to the board to his side. ¡°This is as much information as we currently have. Keep an eye out. You¡¯ll each receive a sketch.¡±
Chief Vedra handed the pile to an assistant. When the sketch reached Nahual, he gripped the sunstone and looked it over. In fine detail, he saw the bones strung around the enigmatic figure¡¯s neck, the red and black robe, and the wooden staff at his side. He felt glad, the Necromancer was all but found, and yet, he felt irritation. How much longer would the Necromancer roam El Viajar, planning ways to harm the people? So many people could lose their lives. The sooner he is caught, the sooner the people will be saved.
¡°Since this issue is what it is, and since so many people have a chance of being harmed, we are authorized to use deadly force if necessary against any jaan we encounter.¡± He again gripped the small stone aloft and explained. ¡°Remember, just hold the stone in front of you, and any jaan nearby should feel pain, fear, or worse if they¡¯re undead. Anyone who is normal should feel nothing.¡±
Chief Vedra again paused and looked over the officers. Many more inspected their stones, some of them held the small rocks close to their chests. Coincidentally, some of the officers held the sunstones next to their symbol of the sun, necklaces depicting the sun in golden glory. Nahual suddenly wished he had his holy symbol as well, but he left it at home beside the imagery of his wife and daughter to protect their spirits.
¡°Now, let me explain where you¡¯ll each be stationed on the day of the festival. We may be looking for the Necromancer in our day to day, and if we find him, all the better. However, when the festival arrives, we need to be ready to apprehend him and the jaan he brings.¡±
He turned to a fresh map on the corkboard. He called out a name and placed a pin along the Deuda Line. He continued for a time until he reached the farthest point of the line, where Rykard and members of the church would be. ¡°Nahual,¡± he calls out, placing a pin beside the last, ¡°you¡¯ll be beside the stage, closest to Rykard and the members of the church.¡±
Chapter 16
The Iteri carved roads and taught the people to live. However, the people turned against the Iteri. The exact reason is uncertain, but many scholars speculate that the general population feared this failing organization. Eventually, they disappeared into history.
- Of Myth and Legend, The Lost Iteri
When the sun had fallen beyond the wall, casting the city in an umbral embrace, Elena and William awoke. Earlier than usual, they wasted no time in getting ready for the festival. William wore a black jacket with a hood, and painted his face like the band they saw, with white paint for his face, and black around his eyes. Elena wore the white, robe-like dress she had found. She took a rope and wrapped it around her midsection. She undid the binding around the sleeves, letting the once poofy sleeves cascade into a waterfall effect. She wore a coat over the dress, citing that it would be odd if other people saw her without one, after all, it would be a cold night. They found a large stick, long enough to match her height. In all, the look made her a close approximation to the Sun Iteri. William refused to hold a staff.
At the dried water fountain, the same one they had all been meeting at for weeks now, William and Elena said goodbye to Erasmus. He wore his customary suit, seemingly not worried for his appearance. He remained the the well-dressed man Elena had met all those weeks ago, pale, but well-dressed. She still remembered when he lifted his coat sleeve to reveal his rotted flesh. The reality was not kind.
Erasmus left, waving them both goodbye. William knew his destination, to join up with the rest of the undead, and post themselves in ideal spots throughout the Deuda Line. It had been discussed at length, where they would go, how they would proceed, and what they would say once they found the Necromancer in the crowd. Ideally, they would take him, drag him to the stage, and plead their case.
Anything could go wrong, and William had every right to believe it would. Still, he kept those thoughts to himself, hopeful that everything would go as planned. They would find the priest, turn him into the church, with a crowd, and prove themselves to be unwilling participants. Despite their rotted appearance, they were good people in the end. They were dealt an odd hand, and yet William knew that the church would never be able to return them to the way that they were. They would never live their lives to their natural ends.
They paced themselves and walked through the familiar sprawl of broken roads and sidewalks. The winding alleys and roads, once labyrinthine, were now as familiar as their resting places in the university. Each shadow, overgrown tree, and crack were now like old friends, greeting them upon their journey down to the Deuda Line, to the All Souls Festival.
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Once they reached the line, Elena looked around and gasped. William smiled as she looked around, enraptured by the new decorations that had been put up during the day. All along the line men and women stood beside orange and black booths and carved pumpkins, eager to sell their wares. A wide assortment of treats lay just under the canopies of the sellers. Candied apples, cotton candy, chocolate, barbequed meat, hot chocolate, and so much more were available, ready to be eaten.
In addition to the edible treats, some vendors sold masks, staves, rings, and necklaces. Some booths even offered to paint the faces of anyone who came by. Elena saw more than one cat person. And still, beyond the usual fare of what Elena expected, there was also religious iconography. She had expected everything else, but not people in black dress pants, dress shoes, button-up shirts, and ties to be walking about the line. Yet, there they were, handing out pamphlets and preaching the word of Life, while some booths sold statues of Rykard and the Sun Iteri.
¡°Stop gawking, you won¡¯t be able to eat it anyway,¡± William said, bringing Elena out of her food-induced reverie. She had been staring at the skewers of meat.Elena nodded her head, a pained look on her face ¡ª she wanted to eat.
They kept walking, taking note of the people selling church iconography, and those passing out pamphlets. They noted their complexion and facial features. Since they started on the far end, the exact opposite end from the stage, they had a lot of people to go through.
During their walk, music fitting for the time roared over the street. Some people danced, smiling happily, while others commented on the year the songs came out, or their meaning. In all, Elena found it peaceful, as if being surrounded by these people, the music, the booths, and the atmosphere were what she needed all along. She breathed in, savoring the smell of the season, holding it in her lungs a few moments longer, and then she let it out. She would find the Necromancer today, and then everything would be even better.
A booth caught her eye, a puppet show. She wandered over and saw parts of the plays. One of the stories was about wizards at a faraway school. Another was about a flying knight in blue armor who promised to protect people. The last one she saw was about a man without a soul gaining power to defeat evil gods. The stories were shorter versions of the longer ones, ancient stories from the old world, but Elena loved the classics.
They kept walking, and as they walked, the people enjoying themselves pulled at Elena¡¯s heart. Happiness for them, and for the holiday, and what it meant for so many people, filled her with, in turn, happiness. But sadness pulled upon her, the fact that her family thought this holiday was evil and celebrated the Necromancer, even though she saw it wasn¡¯t true, ached her.
They kept looking around, through the booths, and through to the small alleys. They didn¡¯t see anyone matching the description of the Necromancer, until they arrived at the stage, on time for the grand announcement of his holiness.
Chapter 17: Elena
While there is no evidence of an ¡®old world¡¯, there have been counterpoints to its existence. For example, it¡¯s been said that magic did not exist in the old world. However, the Iteri are said to have used ¡®spells¡¯ and other means to alter the world. Look at the world today. There is no magic. Perhaps this world has always been our home.
-Of Myth and Legend, The Old World
They arrived at the stage, side by side, surrounded by a crowd on each side. Left, right, behind, and in front, everyone who wanted to hear Rykard speak joined together to hear it. Elena felt as though there must have been at least 100 people. Near the stage, police officers stood ready should anything happen, protecting the stage and 10 feet just beyond it, so that there was a small gap between the stage and the people.
From where she stood, surrounded by so many people in elaborate and detailed costumes, she could almost make out the stage and the speakers. She had never seen Rykard before, not in person, anyway. An urge to strike out, to get that much closer pressed inside her. Maybe the Necromancer will be near the stage? He¡¯d want to get a good look at his enemy.
¡°Hey, let¡¯s get closer,¡± she said to William. Before he could reject the idea, she gripped his hand in hers. He felt cold and warm, his hand gripped hers in turn. ¡°Excuse me, excuse me¡¡± she repeated several times over. She kept her eyes fixed on the ground and angled her shoulder for leverage against the dense crowd. So many people wanted to hear Rykard, well, she was here for an equally, if not more, important person.
She nearly made it to the front of the crowd, but she froze. She couldn¡¯t press forward. For a moment, she felt happiness rise within her. Her search had come to an end. Standing beside a bearded, regal man, was another equally wise-looking Crown. He looked pale, his features sunken, with a hooked nose and no facial hair. Only, instead of a purple robe like she saw, he wore a white robe, like those of the priests in the church. His eyes held no animosity for his greatest enemy, Rykard. Instead, he looked pleased as he scanned the crowd, glad at the amassed number.
¡°W-what happened¡?¡± Elena whispered. Among the crowd, no one could hear her, not even William. He tilted his head, and knelt down slightly, trying to hear her better. He was thoughtful like that, ready to listen, to care, even when it didn¡¯t matter. She gripped his hand tighter, tears welled in her eyes, struggling to break free. ¡°Why is he up there?¡±
¡°Who?¡± William asked as he gripped her hand that much tighter.
¡°The Necromancer, that¡¯s him next to Rykard. He¡¯s with the church. If he¡¯s up there. Then why is it wrong for me to care?¡± Elena gasped for air, struggling to find the words. Her sense of reason left her. ¡°My church hates me but accepts him. Then what¡¯s wrong with me? Did he bring me back, then feel bad, and join Rykard?¡± Tears fell down her cheeks like a waterfall. She couldn¡¯t process what stood in front of her, and no one around her cared to notice, except for William.
He held her hand like an impassive sentry, proving strength and security. ¡°It¡¯s okay, take a breath,¡± he said calmly. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s going to kill Rykard? I would be an easy way to get him, by pretending to be a normal person in the church.¡±
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Elena visibly calmed at his explanation. Of course, that had to be the case. She wasn¡¯t wrong for feeling bad for him, and he hadn¡¯t betrayed her by joining the church. Everything was fine. She let out a deep breath, ¡°thank you.¡± She smiled at her companion and squeezed his hand. She squared her shoulders and looked at the stage, where the Necromancer and Rykard the Inheritor stood, side by side.
Without prompting or any fanfare, Rykard began to speak. He appeared old, wise, and gentle. He stood as if he alone bore witness to the ages past, as if he were everyone¡¯s grandfather as if he loved them all.
¡°Welcome everyone to this most holy of days.¡± He scanned the crowd, a slight smile on his lips. ¡°Today, we welcome you all to partake in the festivities. We are glad to see so many of the Sun¡¯s children, clad in attire to hide themselves from the night¡¯s creatures. This night, let us celebrate the lives of those we lost, and remember them as they lived, and not as they died. Join me in prayer.¡±
Rykard lowered his head, as did the other members of the crowd about the stage. Elena looked around, and with Williams¡¯ prompting, bowed her head as well. ¡°Having fun yet?¡± William whispered to Elena. They looked at each other with their heads bowed. A gentle smile played on William¡¯s face, reaching his black-painted eyes. She couldn¡¯t help but smile back.
¡°No, not yet,¡± she replied. ¡°I still have to talk to him. I have a lot to ask him.¡±
They had ignored Rykard¡¯s prayer. No doubt it was equal to a sermon, espousing the virtues of life, and the vices of death. Elena didn¡¯t care. Once the prayer ended, she looked to the stage. Rykard appeared pleased. He folded his hands behind his back, robe billowing in the gentle fall breeze. He truly looked wise. Why did he hate the Necromancer?
Before the thought could fully form, the homeless undead pressed into the crowd. Their wrapped bodies, concealed faces, and odd demeanor parted the crowd before them. Elena and William scattered with the crowd, blending in with it. At the forefront strode Erasmus. Regal in his own right, he appeared upset, frustrated, and righteous.
¡°Inheritor Rykard,¡± Erasmus shouted over the cries of the crowd. ¡°I have come to ask your wisdom, and beg your forgiveness for our appearance.¡± They kept walking through the parting crowd, tension growing in the air. ¡°I must beseech you to listen, that man beside you, he is the Necromancer. Our eternal enemy. We have come to right a wrong, and ask you to imprison this man, and right our bodies so that we may live our lives as they would if he had not interfered.¡±
They halt just before the police. Their body language was clearly angry, and upset, as if they were having a difficult time holding themselves back from the stage, ready to attack the man beside Rykard.
Elena, on the other hand, felt her panic spike yet again. Here was Erasmus, her friend, a man she trusted with the information she experienced of the Necromancer, and he was using it against her savior. A part of her wanted to strike out, to stop him, and another part, the part that still felt betrayed, the part of her that remembered her father beating her mother and her, and the threats against her, it all came together, and froze her in place among the crowd of the faceless and fearful masses.
She looked at William for support and saw a mix of emotions. He looked disgusted at Rykard, disappointed at Erasmus, and saddened by the undead who followed him. His hand trembled in hers, and his breathing increased. Elena gripped his hand as he had done for her. He looked down at her, his disheveled hair shielded his eyes from their surroundings for a moment, and he again seemed to calm. He breathed out.
The police, no longer frozen, or concerned by the words of the undead leader, began to move. Half moved to guard the stage, while a small contingency stepped forward to intercept the stalled group of undead. One of them looked familiar.
Chapter 18: Nahual
Nevertheless, the belief in an ¡®old world¡¯ persists in religion to this day. However, it is this scholar¡¯s expert opinion that there is no ¡°golden coast¡± or ¡°emerald isle¡±, such names confer an image of the fantastical and impossible.
- Of Myth and Legend, The Old World
Nahual stood to the right of the stage and watched the crowd amass. He waited for hours, watching for any sign of the enemy of mankind. He usually only wore his coat, but today he wore the entire regalia of a police officer of El Viajar. His pants, shirt, and coat were all ironed and pressed, the colors a deep, nearly black, blue. He wore dress shoes that shone with the light of his surroundings and wore white gloves. He stood beside fellow officers, each sporting nearly identical attire. His eyes never left the crowd. He was resolute, imposing.
Rykard had strode to the stage, and a crowd amassed when he spotted the girl he met all those weeks ago. She was safe, as she should be, but she looked homeless. She wore a torn wedding dress that didn¡¯t fit her properly and stood next to a man with skeleton makeup. Clearly, she didn¡¯t go home, but talking to her would have to wait. Instead, he focused on the crowd, searching for signs of Jaan.
Rykard spoke aloud, leading them in prayer. While each person in the crowd bowed their heads, and while Nahual felt the need to bow his as well, he resisted but listened intently.
¡°We thank you, most holy of lights. You are a beacon to growth, the provider of life. For granting us our daily bread, we cannot thank you enough. We ask of you the strength to walk with resolute strength in the coming days. The Necromancer, enemy of man, follower of Sin, and protector of the Jaan, has risen again. We ask you, to watch over us, guide us in life, and protect us from death. We thank you for this life. Amen.¡±
¡°Amen,¡± the crowd and Nahual said as one. Nahual half expected an attack to come during the speech, but none came. He was ready to relax, to let the night continue, but, far beyond where he could directly see, the crowd began to twist and squirm. Groups of people parted, granting passage for a man being followed by an amassed group of people, each covered head to toe in cloth and rags.
Except for the man at the head of the group, each member moved unnaturally. They moved with twisted limbs, some limped, but many covered their entire bodies in cloth of varying colors. Others exposed limps, their faces, or whatever they could. Each person appeared pale, deranged, mad, and angry. Undead.
¡°Inheritor Rykard,¡± the man at the fore shouted over the scared crowd. ¡°I have come to ask your wisdom, and beg your forgiveness for our appearance.¡± They kept walking through the parting crowd, and tension in the air grew. ¡°I must beseech you to listen, that man beside you, he is the Necromancer. Our eternal enemy. We have come to right a wrong, and ask you to imprison this man, and right our bodies so that we may live our lives as they would if he had not interfered.¡±
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Nahual grabbed his side arm and the sunstone in his coat. He called to his fellows, and without turning around, ordered several of them to guard the stage. He called several other names to come to his side and aid him in destroying the deranged undead.
What do they mean by our eternal enemy? Nahual wondered. Memories of study sessions involving the history of the city came to mind. The last time the Necromancer walked El Viajar, when the riots occurred, and how many people were hurt, the undead had said something similar. They said the Necromancer was their enemy, too; but they turned on those who helped them, the church, and innocent people.
Nahual gripped the stone in one palm, and his gun in the other. No, it would not happen again. The undead would not use their lies, or their deceit to harm the people again. They weren¡¯t attacking now, but they could attack at any moment. No hesitation, no mercy for Her pawns. Nahual stepped forward, stone exposed towards the man leading the crowd, his gun pointed, ready.
The group backed away from the stage. The man leading the group appeared visibly pained, but the fear on his face was real. He backed away quickly. Most of the group followed suit, except for an older woman. Wrappings covered her entire body, preventing any decent person from seeing the state of decay that had taken her. As the rest of the undead backed away, she pressed forward, nearly begging.
¡°Please, we speak the truth. He turned us! The church can turn us back, right? Right?¡±
¡°Back away slowly!¡± Nahual roared over the crowd. His fellow officers surrounded the stage, while others moved into the crowd to intercept the fleeing crowd.
¡°Please, I want to be normal again. Please, let me know who I am. Heal me, at least, please. Lord Rykard,¡± The old woman ignored Nahual, and looked where she should not dare. ¡°We know it is him, one of us saw him.¡± Her voice rose, and her fervor grew stronger. ¡°Please Rykard!¡±
Her hand reached out. Nahual didn¡¯t need to think, he trusted in the academy and the church¡¯s guidance. His hand shot out with the stone, coming closer than it had before. Her hand in the presence of the stone began to decay. Her skin rapidly melted, dried, and fell from the flesh just beneath. Twisted sorrow filled her eyes, she clearly wanted to pull her hand back, but it froze there, stuck as if her own body failed to comply. Nahual stepped forward, and the stone again caused decay to come to her, but this time the connective tissues of her body seized, dried, and fell from her torso.
Nahual came close again, ready to send a message to the other undead who were now being corralled by the other officers. The woman began speaking, but at his step, her face rapidly decayed, giving way. A Jaan no longer lay before him, now it was merely a corpse. The last word to leave the bare skull, was a simple, ¡°please.¡±
Nahual drew back and ordered the other officers to be ready to use force. ¡°They¡¯re not human, only Jaan in Her service.¡± He turned and faced Rykard, his face impassive. ¡°Lord Rykard, what would you have your servants do.¡± Rykard looked over the crowd, seemingly uncaring that the enemy had come so close to the stage. He looked at Nahual, like a wise man from legends, the inheritor of Sol¡¯s light.
¡°Do not dirty your hands, Nahual. We will deal with them. Gather them, and bring them to the church.¡± Nahual felt a sense of pride that Rykard knew his name. It should be expected, that his reports and sense of duty were second to none.
¡°As you wish, inheritor.¡±
¡°Non-lethal gathering, everyone. Take them all, and bring them to the church. Inheritor Rykard wishes to deal with the traitors to humanity.¡±
The other officers pulled out handcuffs, and zip ties, ensuring that the undead could not leave, or struggle for their freedom. A group quickly formed of undead lying on the ground. Police officers formed a perimeter, they held their stones aloft, forming a cage of life¡¯s light, where no undead could pass.
Chapter 19: William
It may be confusing to say that there is no magic when we have beings such as Inheritor Rykard and the Necromancer. However, and this will make sense in later chapters, it is more likely that these two persons are proofs of gods and not magic. How else could they exist?
-Of Myth and Legend, The Old World
William froze. He stood next to Elena among the group of scared people. Clearly, they were terrified of the undead near them. With Elena¡¯s hand in his, he couldn¡¯t help but know that she too felt fear, worry, and betrayal. He looked at her, and brought her closer, ¡°it¡¯ll be okay,¡± he whispered. It was all he could do. She didn¡¯t stop shaking, but she brought herself closer to him. She didn¡¯t want to be separated from him.
The stage where Rykard and the Necromancer stood seemed farther now. The members of the church on the stage looked on impassively, scanning the crowd. Maybe they were expecting something? The moving crowd and the undead horde that Erasmus brought had scared the people away from the stage, from the goal of identifying the man beside Rykard.
William wanted to get closer, to get a better look at the man, and see for himself if he could track him down, and find the bones he used to create undead. It would take some time, but if he could find, and destroy the bones that man had used, then he wouldn¡¯t be able to create undead anymore. However, the crowd kept pushing him back, farther, and farther from the stage. Their cries and jeers sang louder than the music had and invaded his senses in a way no music ever could. Discordant tongues spewed hateful words for beings inconceivable to them and their world. The only saving grace was the warmth of Elena¡¯s palm in his own.
He looked down at her again, worry and fear clearly filled her very being. She shook and flinched with every push of the crowd. Tears welled in her eyes as she struggled to hold them back.This clearly had been too much for her. He looked up for a way out, past the groups of people surrounding them, and saw the police handcuffing and zip-tying the men and women Erasmus brought.
A feeling of dread and worry, akin to the one he felt all those years ago came to him. It crawled up his neck and traveled down his arms and legs, a need to lash out, to defend the people who only wanted to be normal. Then, its counterpart came, fear. Fear joined the need to act, it poisoned the urge to change the current situation and froze him in place.
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These twin sensations were like brother and sister, comingling in his veins, his heart, and his very soul. The need to act led him to fall, and inaction led him to die. Escape was futile. His eyes could not be pulled from the site of innocent, once-living, men, women, and children, begging to be let up, to prove their innocence. Many still pointed at the stage, crying out that the man beside Rykard was the Necromancer. No one in the crowd believed the words, and the police seemed to grow more violent each time the words were uttered, striking as they saw fit. A perimeter of police formed around the group, protecting the living, fearful men and women beside William and Elena, holding small stones aloft.
Just because they¡¯re different he thought, just because we¡¯re not the same.
The sweet smell of a dying season filled his lungs. Summer ended, fall began, and the death of the year drew nearer. Purpose swam in his heart, and permeated his soul. I am drawn to death. I am urged to change. With purpose, he felt at his soul. He was ready to undo what he had done all those years ago, to release the seal on the Jaan, to pour his heart out and take the chance to end things fully, but when he looked at Rykard, the man who had taken everything from him, anger and fury left him. Only fear remained.
William remembered Sona, a dear friend he let die. A friend who died because she showed him mercy, and was erased from history for it. Anger struggled against his fear for a moment, a need to right the wrongs of the past, to surge forward, to fight, but, it was useless. Seeing how easily the small horde was defeated, how easily they fell, and how much they hated the Necromancer, it was clear that they wouldn¡¯t help him even if they knew the truth. I¡¯m sorry, Sona. The anger inside him died, leaving only fear.
The people pushed again as the undead were loaded into the cars. He heard their words of fear and hatred.
¡°Please! That man is the Necromancer!¡± he heard one say.
¡°You¡¯ll regret this! The Necromancer is here! We need to stop him before he attacks Rykard!¡± screamed another.
All of them were righteous fools, and good people, William thought.
Rykard never comes to these events, he thought. Then, as it dawned on him. Only one person saw the Necromancer¡¯s face, and only Erasmus managed to find an image of him, and we only ever saw him around the festival supplies. ¡°This was a trap,¡± William whispered, loud enough for Elena to hear. He looked at her, the orange light of the street lights glow softly illuminated her face. She looked scared, her dress appeared too big on her small frame, and for a moment, she didn¡¯t look like a twenty-year-old woman, but like a scared little girl. There¡¯s no way she could have known.
He looked at Rykard, the incarnation of evil as rotten as himself, then at Elena. The need to kill, to die, to forget, to rest, and to run all warred within his mind and body. Then he chose. He shifted his hand and grabbed Elena by the wrist. He pulled her back through the surging crowd, and into a steady stream of people that just wanted to get away.
Chapter 20
In the old records, the depictions of Jaan were numerous. They varied from the mundane to the fantastical. As such, we are, even today, unsure of where myth ends, and reality begins.
-Of Myth and Legend, The Jaan.
As the undead horde was taken to the police vans, ready to be taken to the special jailhouse for their kind, William pulled Elena away. It took four vans, each carrying eight undead, to fit them all. Elena turned, arching her neck to see the people being imprisoned and the stage. She couldn¡¯t see past the growing crowd and the distance separating them. She pulled away from William and tried to turn around. William held fast, pushing against the people coming to join the crowd. Elena pulled again, harder, more deliberately, and escaped William¡¯s grasp.
The way she came from quickly opened itself up for her passing. It didn¡¯t take long for the he Necromancer on the stage, her target, to become visible. He stood out above the crowd like a beacon of hope that provided a reason for this putrid, pointless life of hers. She pushed through the crowd and fought to get closer. The smell of living humans, their body odor, the smell of makeup, and cheap costumes filled her lungs. They were insignificant to her, she knew her destination, clad in white, dozens of feet between her and him.
One step was all that divided her and the crowd. When she exited the amassed group of gawking men and women, she saw the undead men, women, and children being chained and forced into the cars. None of them fought, none of them cried. As if they couldn¡¯t understand the situation, and merely obeyed out of obligation to their former lives, they complied with every word spoken by the police.
Elena stood before the crowd of men and women in costume. A cool breeze pressed against her, it reminded her that she stood at the fore. Voices of the police officers sang out over the street and cascaded over the undead and the gathered crowd, like a benediction from Rykard himself. They formed a semi-circle of vans around the two men in uniform reading from long pieces of yellowed paper that didn¡¯t often see the light of day.
¡°¡you will be given the right to bid your families farewell¡¡± A right granted by Rykard exited the voice of the older officer, a tanned, grey-haired individual who stood equal to the younger man at his side.
¡°¡you will be given the right to humane death under church supervision¡¡± Another right granted by Rykard, this one, spoken by the man to the elder man¡¯s right. He looked familiar.
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Elena paused, not hearing the rest of the rights being spoken. The man closer to her, the younger man, stood tall and imposing in a formal uniform meant for special occasions in the city. She remembered him from that day weeks ago when she sat in the park that night. He told her to go home, and here he spoke to the undead, reading their rights to die.
Panicked and fearful, she turned, and ran along the crowd¡¯s edge, closer to the stage, William closed in on her. She could hear him breathing behind her.
¡°Elena, stop, please!¡± but she couldn¡¯t. The more she ran, the more her fear and worries left her. She needed to do this, to talk to the man standing on the stage in the white glow of the lights next to Rykard. She needed answers. She needed a reason to exist.
¡°Tell me!¡± Elena yelled, feet away from the stage. Heavy breaths left her lungs. She felt weak, tired, and her body heavy. She didn¡¯t turn around to check if William still followed; she couldn¡¯t hear him. After catching her breath, she readied herself to ask the man on the stage her questions.
Why did you bring me back?
Why did you bring them back?
Why are you standing next to your enemy?
What is happening?
She was going to ask, to get answers seemed so important moments ago. But as she stood under orange street lamps, in her secondhand dress, and without a single friend, she saw the truth in the man¡¯s eyes. Rykard still scanned the crowd, as if looking for something, for someone. The Necromancer, the man she saw that night, the one who brought her back, briefly held a sense of recognition in his eyes, as if he did remember her but just as quickly didn¡¯t care. That sense of recognition quickly left, and his face returned to an impassive mask of uncaring fortitude.
Under his gaze, she felt naked, like an object meant to be discarded with the rest of the undead. He turned his head and raised his arm to signal for another police officer. An officer grabbed her and escorted her away.
~###~
William wanted to join her, to run, grab her, and leave; but she ran into the open, and stood in front of the stage where Rykard would see. He can¡¯t. He can¡¯t get caught. William couldn¡¯t face that darkness again, being trapped under the church in that dungeon as they cut away at him, and used his blood, flesh, and bone in their experiments. The very thought made him recoil. The reality of what they¡¯d do to him made him wish all the more that he was dead permanently.
He would fail if he ran out now. He refused to run to her side but also refused to run away. This was the best he could do. From among the crowd, William saw Elena being handcuffed, but she was not forced to join the undead.
He saw them lift a sunstone to her face. She looked at them confused. The police looked confused for a few moments, then they took her into another car and drove off.
William knew she was alive, but based on the look she held at that moment, it seemed as though she didn¡¯t know. He doubted himself and wondered what he was even trying to do. She¡¯d be safer at home. He joined the crowd and left his friend.
Chapter 21
Of all the depictions of Jaan, the most fearsome were the creatures that resembled jaguars. Large cats that could control the shadows to stalk their prey. However, there has been no evidence to suggest their existence.
-Of Myth and Legend, The Jaan.
As she¡¯s being taken, Elena looks back for William. In the back of the police car, she looked around the growing crowd, but couldn¡¯t find him. All around her, the car¡¯s metal acted as a temporary cage. She wasn¡¯t buckled in, or handcuffed, but the knowledge that this was her fate became real for her. The officer entered the car, started the engine and sirens, and started through the streets.
Elena turned one last time, hoping to see William. He couldn¡¯t be found among the crowd. What she saw instead was Erasmus struggling against the police. He shifted his arms and tackled and pushed the few that restrained him. He managed to squeeze through the crowd into the backstreets and alleys that led back into the Deuda. From where Elena was leaving, she could see the police calling it in, and other officers followed Erasmus.
Elena wanted to hate the man, to wish ill upon him for doing what he did, but she felt she couldn¡¯t. She felt she would¡¯ve done the same if she were in his shoes. Being free of past worries, righting past wrongs, and getting the chance to expel evil when it became clear seemed normal to her.
The people cleared the street as the cars left one after the other. The car Elena rode in led the way through the streets. She saw men, women, and children all in costume. Vendors began to pack up, and the music ceased its dance through the air. Everything felt dead as if with the coming of the undead, the people felt no need to continue in reverie.
¡°What¡¯ll happen to me?¡± Elena asked aloud, not necessarily to the driver, but to hear her own voice.
¡°You¡¯ll be matched against missing children, and taken home.¡± The officer didn¡¯t look back at her but looked forward as he navigated the host of people, most unsure of what was happening. Most of them looked like they just wanted to be happy and enjoy the party. The part of her that wanted that for them broke a little. The part of her that wanted to be out there with them broke. And the part that knew she wouldn¡¯t get the chance made her cry.
The cruiser navigated the street but didn¡¯t have to go far. After driving down the Deuda Line, and turning into El Viajar, into the portion of the city with glass and metal meeting the sky, the car turned right, and continued down, not far from the Deuda Line. Each building stood tall and imposing. The glass sparkled with the light of a thousand bulbs on the street. Each business clearly marked itself and wore its identity with pride. On this side, there were no cracked streets or broken sidewalks. Everything was beautiful.
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The car stopped and turned into a stone building parking lot. The officer opened the door and led Elena to the front of the building. Inside, she saw many officers doing paperwork, and running to and from the back, the front, and every which way. Some were on the phone answering questions about the incident earlier.
The officer led Elena to a desk and asked her to sit while he sorted through the paperwork he had. He began asking her questions, starting with her name.
¡°My name is Elena. Do you know where the undead are being taken?¡± He didn¡¯t look up and instead marked her name in his report. He didn¡¯t bother asking for her last name. He kept writing, but she couldn¡¯t tell what. Then, he rose and walked to a file cabinet in the back. Alone, Elena began to pick at her dress. It chaffed her arms and seemed too big for her. She felt uncomfortable, and the need to hide.
The officer returned with a file. He opened it, and Elena saw a picture her family had taken of her a few years ago. She looked mostly the same. ¡°Is your address still correct?¡±
¡°Yes, but do you know what¡¯ll happen to the undead.¡±
¡°Good, I¡¯ll take you home and we can be done. I have other things to do. For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m sorry you had to see all that, must¡¯ve been traumatic getting lost like that, and seeing that horde try to attack the Inheritor. Good thing Uldvari called me over,¡± Elena wanted to reply, but he motioned for her to follow him out to the car. She followed, exited the building, and reentered the same car she left earlier.
In the car, she watched the city she had just seen leave her sight. From the Deuda Line, the officer drove up into the Deuda and continued for a few minutes. She passed cracked streets, decorated homes, and many of the same streets she had grown used to over the last few weeks.He kept driving until they reached an apartment complex. She never realized how close the station and her home were.
He opened the door for her again and asked her to lead the way to her home. They climbed the flight of stairs, and Elena knocked on her door. The officer fidgeted for a moment, then they both waited. The light turned on inside, the door bolt turned, and her father opened the door.
¡°Hello officer,¡± he said, almost completely ignoring Elena.
¡°Hello, sir. I¡¯m just bringing back your daughter from the festival out on the line. One of the members of the church noticed her and informed us. You¡¯re lucky she wasn¡¯t harmed, she¡¯s been out on the streets for weeks, sir.¡±
¡°Thank you, officer. We¡¯ve been missing her, and feared the worst.¡±
¡°No thanks necessary, sir. Goodnight.¡± The officer turned, and left down the steps, leaving Elena to stand there, alone, with her father before her. His neutral expression melted away, leaving her to see his scowl and hatred. The hope that her family loved her, that they cared, fled her heart.
¡°You have no idea how bad you¡¯ve made us look.¡± He grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside.
Chapter 22
There are old stories that suggest the Necromancer befriended the Jaan. The one he was closest to was one of the shadow-manipulating cats.
-Of Myth and Legend, The Jaan.
Elena knew that hoping for any different from her father was foolish, but when she strode those steps to her home, it made sense to hope. They called the police, and let them know she went missing. She never saw a single poster, but maybe she never saw them. When her father hit her, again and again in the living room, her brother played with his drawings, and her mother prepared dinner. They couldn¡¯t look at the situation happening right beside them.
¡°Do you know what the church thought?¡± She wrapped her arms over her head and curled into a ball. ¡°They wondered if we were good parents. Why would you run away otherwise? Huh?¡± Each word he yelled made her more certain than the last. Her family was pathetic. ¡°You ungrateful bitch, how dare you come back here.¡±
Elena felt within herself, past the physical pain, and into the emotional scars she carried. These words spoken by a madman, used to fill her with fear and uncertainty. Elena once regretted her existence, but now she cherished it. She hugged her knees and took the hits. She thought back to meeting Erasmus, the Royal Tree, and seeing the band play. It felt weird, and good to know that people exist in a lot of ways she didn¡¯t know about, and William walked by her side for it all. He didn¡¯t want her to go to the stage, because he knew something was wrong, and she left him there.
Her father¡¯s words didn¡¯t reach her anymore. His reasons seemed pointless and insignificant. She wasn¡¯t ungrateful, she loved her family as much as she could, but being shunned had hurt her. Being shown a world beyond what she knew had freed her. She didn¡¯t run away from her family, she ran away from a cage and found something to be grateful for, she¡¯d find him and apologize. This place was no longer her home.
Elena lets go of her legs, and twists to get up. ¡°You ran away for attention.¡± As she was about to stand, he kicked her in her side, ¡°how dare you not know your place.¡± She tumbled to her side and rose again. Even as he hit her, and continued screaming, she kept standing. Her dress, still nothing more than a secondhand, oversized thing, hung upon her more comfortably. Her eyes met her fathers rage induced face, and she felt pity.
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¡°You want to feel special, don¡¯t you?¡±
¡°What did you say to me?¡± He looked ready to hit her again, but she asked a second time.
¡°Why do you want to feel special? You¡¯re stressed and hurt, but I am not your punching bag.¡± Elena watched as her father balled his fists, ready to strike, but she continued. ¡°I am going out to find the Necromancer. You may not have noticed, but he is alive.¡±
¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere, you¡¯re staying right here at home with your family.¡± He turned, ready to lock the doors, but froze at Elena¡¯s next words.
¡°This hasn¡¯t been my home in years. You all hate me and think I¡¯m a sinner. Just let me go.¡±
Her father turned, anger reignited in his eyes, ¡°you are my daughter! My word is law, and if I say you¡¯re not going, then you will not go.¡±
Elena didn¡¯t back down, flinch, or turn. She spoke, ¡°you are not my father. You haven¡¯t been for a long time.¡±
Something inside her father seemed to shift, a sudden realization. His anger melted, and instead of confusion, he seemed genuinely upset. He looked at his hands, as if noticing their weight for the first time. Elena felt inside her chest, and while it burned hot and angry, she willed it down. This anger didn¡¯t fit her, it felt uncomfortable and unreasonable. As she pushed it down, she saw her father wilt further, as if with each push of her own heart, his wilted further.
Elena remembered something William had said, ¡°You¡¯re a rare kind of person, Elena. You¡¯re the kind of person that can care, even when it doesn¡¯t make sense.¡±
She reached for the door. He didn¡¯t stop her. A part of her wanted to console her father, to let him know it¡¯d be okay, but she didn¡¯t want to. He needed to understand that he didn¡¯t own her, that he couldn¡¯t hurt her. She turned the knob and exited her former home. She didn¡¯t hear her mother or brother call out to her, and it didn¡¯t matter anymore. They weren¡¯t family, and would never truly be people she could fall family.
Once the door closed behind her, she looked out over the tiny part of the city she could see. She took a breath and saw for the first time how small it truly was. She felt at her heart. Each heartbeat resounded against her palm, letting her know that she was alive. ¡°I guess I¡¯m not dead yet.¡±
She turned and followed the steps down to the Deuda, where she hoped she¡¯d find William. It didn¡¯t take long for a pure black cat to run up and join her.
Chapter 23
Jaan are described as embodiments of the night itself.
-Of Myth and Legend, The Jaan.
Nahual stood beside one of several vans. He breathed a small sigh of relief. Many of the undead were in custody, and that alone would prevent the Necromancer from completing whatever plan he had. He looked out over El Viajar from where he stood atop the pyramid that housed the temple. Constructed centuries ago, it stood as a bastion of hope and life against the dark. Nahual breathed deeply of the night air, he knew he played a crucial part in protecting the city.
¡°What¡¯s next?¡± A familiar voice spoke out. A man dressed in the same regalia as Nahual stood next to one of the vans, eyes on his hips.
¡°We wait until Inheritor Rykard and Uldvari arrive. Then, we can release the dead to their custody.¡±
¡°I say we just kill ¡®em all.¡± He kicked the van¡¯s wheels, in obvious irritation at having to follow protocol. For once, Nahual couldn¡¯t distinctly disagree. He did feel that killing the undead before anything else made the most sense, but he wasn¡¯t the Inheritor. Looking over the undead, making sure the Necromancer wasn¡¯t among their ranks, and doing away with them humanely is what made Rykard a man to look up to.
¡°It shouldn¡¯t take too long,¡± Nahual replied, checking his wristwatch. It had been a gift from his wife and daughter, not expensive in the monetary sense, but valuable in what it represented.
They stood alone in silence for a time. Nahual gazed out over the city, in knowledge and purpose. While the air pressed against him like an old friend, the city lights sparkled like the stars. A city worth protecting. Music ceased, and in a few days¡¯ time, all of the All Souls Festival decorations would be taken down for the All Thanks Festival.
¡°Thank you, gentlemen,¡± A calming voice sounded from the temple entrance. Rykard looked as regal as he had not hours before. He wore a white robe and sported a greying beard. The few wrinkles he had made him appear the wise grandfather out of stories. They all stood in silence for a moment before the temple at the top of the pyramid. ¡°Without the help of the police, order could not be kept in our city.¡± Rykard looked over the two officers. The other officer flushed, bowed his head, and thanked Rykard for the praise.
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¡°It is our duty, sir,¡± Nahual saluted as he had been trained to do over the years. Rykard smiled back, and Nahual felt as though he had done the right thing.
A contingent of lower members of the church exited the temple, ready to accept the undead. Nahual, not one to miss a cue, walked to the end of the vans and unlocked each one as the members filed into line behind each vehicle. At each unlocking, the church members opened the doors and began grabbing each undead, one at a time. Nahual stood back and watched them take each undead into the temple. Under the dim lights, Nahual saw Uldvari look at each undead, still wrapped in cloth, but now clearly defeated, with curious eyes.
¡°I would give the entire force my blessing, but, for now, I¡¯ll give it to the two of you.¡± Nahual¡¯s partner began mumbling, clearly thinking about the best blessing he could ask for, but Nahual knew what he wanted.
¡°May I ask to see the undead disposed of, to ensure our city is safe and free of blight?¡± Without hesitation, Rykard agreed and offered Nahual to come to the temple.
They passed the stone steps that led to the temple heights and walked between tall stone pillars.Each pillar stood like a sentry, smooth, and imposing, as if a giant had set them down. Inside the temple, rows of stone seats lined the hall and led to a podium, likely the Grand Gathering where Rykard preached.
In front of them both, Uldvari continued inspecting each undead. With each undead he passed, he shook his head. He never lost his temper or his reasoning. Down the line, he made the same motion without fail. When he was done with all forty undead, it became clear that whatever he had been looking for, he failed to find it. Rykard looked at Nahual and began speaking the sad news to everyone in attendance.
¡°While deaths were prevented, we have not caught the Necromancer.¡± Nahual saw Rykard wilt,and the sadness of the news filled him up. Rykard loved this city and sought to protect it as much as Nahual. ¡°Report to your captain. With the Necromancer still out there, the undead will increase in number.¡± Nahual nods in agreement.
Behind Rykard, Nahual saw the undead being dragged away. He has no doubt that wherever they¡¯re going, it¡¯s better than being around the good people of the city. May they die in peace. Among the undead is a young boy around the age of the girl in the park. Though half of his face remained exposed, he looked as scared as any child. Nahual eyed the rest of them, and they all looked scared, like they wanted to protest, but couldn¡¯t.
Nahual couldn¡¯t care. He knew they weren¡¯t real people. He felt glad that the church had wards that prevented the undead from being able to speak. He looked out over the city one last time, before acknowledging within himself that a panic would soon start, now that the city knew the Necromancer had returned.
Chapter 24
While not technically a Jaan, the Necromancer exhibits certain traits that mark him as one. According to the Iteri, his soul acts the same as any other Jaan.
-Of Myth and Legend, The Jaan.
William strode through the path that led to the abandoned university. The leaves and branches hung low, threatening to cut against his face and block his vision. He pressed upward, to the iron gate, and broken stone message that greeted every visitor. He paid it no mind. Messages in stone or ink, none of it mattered. He had failed.
He walked past crumbled stone towards where he always sat, the dried fountain. Like a guardian that had failed its duty, he offered it his respects. He placed his hand upon the ledge and thanked it for the time he was able to spend there. He sighed and remembered the wasted hours, how great they were. William looked at the statue of Rykard, high in the sky with the staff jutting out of its chest.
He thought back to the day he threw the staff, more of a metal rod, at the statue. Seeing Rykard¡¯s church inside a university had enraged him so much that he couldn¡¯t help himself. Afterward, when reason had returned to him on that brightly lit day, he realized that there was no way to get it back. While the staff hadn¡¯t exactly been a friend, often whispering toxic words in his ear, it still had been a friend, a voice to talk to. Another sigh left him, and he realized that he still missed the staff. It¡¯d been over fifty years for the staff, but no more than a few months for him.
William decided to pay it no mind and continued on his task. He needed to find a way to immolate himself before the church found him. He looked through the abandoned buildings for dried wood, cloth, and any other flammable materials. Each building had cloth, but most of it grew mold or was too damp for any use. The last time he had done this, the university had lighter fluid, fresh paper, wood, and cardboard. None of it was here now, of course, and the undead that stayed here failed to even pretend they needed fire to be comfortable.
He stood next to the fountain and inspected the small pile. Wet paper, soggy rags, sticks, and some loose cotton in a pile wouldn¡¯t be enough to destroy his bones. ¡°Well, Shade. Looks like I¡¯ll need to find something flammable. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard with all the decorations in the city.¡± William looked at the black cat perched on the fountain and smiled. No matter how long, or what life, Shade always knew where to find him.
Police sirens sounded through the night. William instinctively flinched, and breathed deeply, rapidly. His hands shook, and he froze. ¡°The police are here, Shade. Hide!¡± Thoughts raced in Williams¡¯s mind. The only real exit would be the front entrance. Any other path out had been blocked, and whatever path Erasmus and the others used wasn¡¯t important enough at the time to warrant asking.
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William stood like a dear in headlights. He still wore the block hoodie and skeleton makeup. The officers shouted orders to look for any stragglers. Their flashlights passed over him, bringing him back to reality, and urging him to run. William turned to run, but a police officer tackled him to the ground. From where he lay, he felt the sudden urge to reach out to his staff, to use what he could to defend himself. It didn¡¯t move.
He could see Shade panicking at the site of the police, and the sunstones. The black piece of the night ran one way, then another before running off into the dark to safety under a bush or among the trees and rubble. William breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his lifelong friend would be safe. The officer pressed a knee into Williams¡¯s ribs and held Williams¡¯s hands behind his back. Another officer ran up to him and knelt down. The other cop pressed what looked like a small white rock to Williams¡¯s face.
William felt a warm sensation spread across his face. In an instant, he knew exactly what it was, and what it represented. Images of a friend that no longer existed flooded his mind. The nostalgia alone almost broke him. The two officers looked him over, saw that his jacket seemed new, and then pushed him aside.
¡°Leave kid. We have sightings of the Necromancer and his undead out here. Stop messing around and go home.¡±
Without thinking, William ran from the university. He didn¡¯t know where he would go. He had no home, the undead were captured. The path before him was a familiar one. A cracked stone led him to the bridge that Elena jumped from. He considered jumping for a moment but second-guessed the decision. The whole point of burning himself was to prevent his bones from remaining.
William ran past the bridge, to the broken wall, into the woods outside the Deuda. The memory of walking this path with Elena gave him comfort, but it wasn¡¯t enough. From all sides the trees pressed against him, offering their arms as a cage of comfort and solidarity. He crouched beside a tree and began to weep.
¡°I¡¯m sorry Sona,¡± he said between tears. ¡°I can¡¯t do this anymore. I¡¯m not enough. I¡¯m not like you.¡± He shook, unable to take a full breath of air. ¡°It¡¯d be better if I was alone.¡± The reasons why he continued, why he kept going along with his existence, none of it felt right. He could remember a brief time when Sona would teach him, and people would look to her like a guiding light. William tried to do the same, but whenever he did, he failed. He¡¯d been limiting his interactions, with the people who depended upon him, until he only had one person who needed him. Elena, he failed her, too.
William placed a hand on his chest, and felt past his heart, into his soul. He saw where pieces of it led out. His soul, while vague in shape, always reminded him of a shining tree among countless, smaller shining lights. Little dots, far off in the distance, flared to life. Each one had a dark stare in its own way but still held the captivating light of a soul. Each one was a Jaan who trusted him.
He looked for a specific one, one in particular, a certain black cat. He checked and saw that Shade ran among some bushes, and hid as he tended to do. A weak smile spread across William¡¯s face, glad that his best friend was okay.
Chapter 25
There are old reports of lands where names hold meaning, or of foods granting emotions. The Iteri wrote about these lands and wondered if the Jaan were something unique as no matter where they went, they saw souls.
-Of Myth and Legend, The Jaan.
William knelt beside his tree until he felt he could move. Often times he felt the need to just get away from everything, a habit he picked up as a kid. He didn¡¯t have a mother or a father and often kept to himself whenever he could. He didn¡¯t miss those days, in fact, they were horrible, but every day for as long as he could remember had been horrible. One long chain of events where he would suffer, rest, and then suffer again. It never truly stopped.
He closed his eyes and pressed the back of his head against the tree, and recalled the Jaan, and how familiar they felt. They talked about Sin, and how great she was. William never met her, but based on what the Jaan talked about, she sounded wonderful. A great woman who accepted everyone no matter their life choices. While William felt he could never forgive Rykard, or himself, he thought of Sin in the same way he guessed people thought of a mother, as someone who loves without conditions.
The wind pressed against his face, the crickets chirped, and the sound of the trees swaying danced through his ears and into his mind. A moment of clarity, a moment of solitude. He breathed deeply and heard nothing. The crickets stopped singing, and the rustling of the leaves and wind ceased, too. Moving to the side he crept to a crouching position, ready to run, but right before he managed to sprint away, he found himself unable to get up, move, or run away.
In the distance, past where the moonlight allowed him to see, he heard the sound of leaves crunching. It took only a moment for an old woman followed by Sonverte, and other people William had never met before arrive. They numbered ten in total, including the woman and Sonverte. William glared at the band member, wondering what this was about, and why he couldn¡¯t move.
¡°Sorry, Will. We¡¯ve had our eye on you for a while. We couldn¡¯t exactly get to you with your weapons beside you.¡± Sonverte scrunched up his shoulders as if what he had just said made the most sense in the world. William couldn¡¯t move but felt pure confusion strike him. What weapons? What was he talking about? As if sensing his confusion, Sonverte continued, ¡°the undead were always near you, Will. They¡¯re terrifying, but we need that if things are going to change.¡±
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More confusion. William felt certain that they didn¡¯t understand what he could do, or that the undead weren¡¯t weapons, they were people. Did they think he would control them? He looked at the group as best he could, and saw that the old woman was the same one he and Elena met, the Royal Tree. She still held an air of ancient wisdom, a knowing presence.
¡°We¡¯ve been following you,¡± she said as she walked closer to William. ¡°Especially today. We saw your allies get taken, and knew we only had moments to strike before the church got you.¡± She got so close that William realized with utter fear that he couldn¡¯t move because of her. She knew how to use the binding technique that the Iteri used to enslave him. Why? How did she know? How could she use it? ¡°We knew to look for you because of that girl, Elena. You got so close to me, and still couldn¡¯t tell that I felt for your soul. I thought it was a mistake at first, but you¡¯re truly unable to fathom your own power.¡±
She looked at him through wizened eyes, almost pitying. ¡°I would¡¯ve taken you at that time, but taking a random person, and being discovered, that would have proven unwise. So, we followed as best we could. Now, we have you.¡± The Royal Tree turned back towards the group, her figure grew taller, her skin more vibrant and full of life. Her lose clothing tightened, and clung to her figure, and her posture corrected.
With dark skin, green eyes, and hair pulled back by a scarf, she looked every bit as royal as she felt. Her demeanor felt commanding, imposing, and powerful. ¡°Come now, Necromancer. There is work to be done.¡±
William rose to his feet. Unnaturally, he walked, feeling as though his body were no longer his. He nearly stumbled before the Royal Tree altered the connection, letting him move more naturally, but still well within her control. Thoughts, fragments, and information dripped into William¡¯s mind. His capture was not from this place. The images he saw didn¡¯t make sense, and the impressions he felt made it feel as though her home was far away, too far for him or anyone to get to. One thing was for sure, she needed something, and she was the Royal Tree.
William then felt a familiar presence in the memories, one of the Jaan he knew and protected. The creature could change its shape to that of any other creature, living or dead. A part of William knew that the woman before him was her true form, and another part knew that she had either killed or found that kind of Jaan¡¯s bones. Even in death, they accept anyone. She must have found a loophole. William recalled the Iteri saying that only people from this land could use the Iteri magic, but Rykard and now this woman knew a way around the limitation.
He tried to resist, to go against her order, and free himself. But, just as every other time he found himself in this trap, he could not force the bond to turn on the caster. Just like every time before, his soul reacted as if it were a Jaan, forced to obey, forced to accept the other soul, just as Sin herself accepted everyone.
Chapter 26
Shape was not ours to choose
Festival music ceased, and the only sound that continued to sound through the street were the cries of Erasmus. He shouted, pushed, and shoved in his attempts to get away. The others knelt in silence against the black street. Erasmus couldn¡¯t understand why they didn¡¯t fight or flee. A slight tugging continued against his heart as if urging him to give up, but he didn¡¯t. Erasmus fought harder, more violently. The police that surrounded him looked anxious and scared. His time speaking to the undead gave him insight into body language, and what to say, or do, in these situations. He lunged at the most fearful. The boy recoiled and fell back. He backed away quickly, scraping his pants along the street while Erasmus continued unabated through the crowded street towards the alleyways.
He ran through the winding streets he never became familiar with. Memories surfaced of wandering to El Viajar, looking for any sign of the Necromancer. He hadn¡¯t stopped until he saw the fliers. The decision to come to El Viajar had been a wise one at the time, there was no way the Necromancer would stay in the Deuda all the time. However, group after group saw the Necromancer in plazas, wandering around as if he wanted to get caught. Fury caught in Erasmus, not in his body, but in his sense of reason. Something inside him, a part that no longer worked, fought against the emotion until the emotion failed. Fury faded from Erasmus, forcing him to the same jovial self he had been forced to be. Frustration welled inside until it too faded.
He knelt among the trash and cardboard boxes. Music blared from somewhere out of reach. He listened, heard happy yelps, and felt, briefly, disgusted. The police that chased him ran the wrong way, and Erasmus relaxed a bit more. He didn¡¯t need to physically relax, being dead meant that any way of laying down, running, or sitting felt the same as the next. No discomfort. No emotion other than the one he was left with.
He kicked a pile of trash to his side. The bag didn¡¯t go far, only tumbling slightly. He breathed, if only out of reflex, and hope. He kept expecting a sensation, an emotion, something, but it never came, no matter how he acted. Lifting himself up, he brushed himself off and cuffed up his arm, a habit he kept trying to stop. The sight of his rotting forearm did bring back a feeling, the sense that he shouldn¡¯t be what he is.
Erasmus searched his memories, trying to find a hint about who he was or could have been. Blocks away, music continued playing. Memories tried to surface through the gaps, sensations, and realizations until they were forced away by an unseen force. It was like finding the next client, the next payday, only to realize they didn¡¯t have money or weren¡¯t a lead. The sensation of missing something didn¡¯t dissipate as fast as expected. He felt through it, and in the giant block of missing memories, he felt as though he must have been someone important. His gaze locked in his rotting flesh. It¡¯d grown since the last time.
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Walking away, he continued to think about his past. The music faded into the background, as silence began to take the streets. Silent nights were his favorite, it meant there was no one around, it meant he could think. Maybe he was the type that got tired of people?
Down the alleyway, away from sound, noise, and humans, into the thick night, he heard a noise. Erasmus realized he had been wandering randomly, without thought. Looking up, he realized that he had no idea where he was, or where the noise had come from. Two, three, four more steps and the sound returned.
¡°You are not him.¡± A voice, deep, unfocused, forgettable, spoke out from the alley in front of Erasmus. It took time before he could see who, or what, had spoken. A human, though, they looked wrong, walked towards him slowly, shambling through the alleyway. It¡¯s face looked melted, disfigured, unknowable. ¡°You will maintain my shape for a time, undead.¡±
The creature shambled forward, stumbling, as if it could not maintain itself. Erasmus froze, a sense of curiosity took over him. It reached out. When it touched him, he remembered who this person was. He was an undead, one of the people at the university, who hadn¡¯t been seen for weeks now. Why hadn¡¯t he looked for this person? Why didn¡¯t Erasmus remember until now?
A sensation drifted over Erasmus¡¯ body as the undead in front of him melted completely, leaving no trace. Erasmus, for a brief moment, felt as though he couldn¡¯t recall who or what he was talking to. The sensation engulfed him, offering him knowledge, and purpose. He remembered the undead before him, as well as all the others that had gone missing over the weeks. The thing that now engulfed his body washed over his rotting flesh. Erasmus wanted it to close his wounds, to make him whole, a wish he often thought of when considering the power of Life. This thing that engulfed him obliged. His wounds closed, sensation returned, and fury filled him.
¡°Am I alive?¡± Erasmus asked himself.
No undead. The creature spoke directly to Erasmus, no words were needed. I change the shape. I change the function. I am not Sin.
¡°Then how can I feel? What do you want?¡±
I want shape. I want to be. I need the Necromancer. I need his bones.
¡°I need him, too. With him, I can become whatever I was meant to be, whatever that may be.¡± Erasmus continued forward. The knowledge filled his mind, purpose returned, and he searched for William. His friend had a lot to answer for. Erasmus strode forward in the night as everyone else forgot he even existed.
Chapter 27
I gave you a home. I accept you in death. Yet, you chose to turn against me.
Elena walked through the parking lot, taking in the scents, the sounds, and the music. Nearly everyone seemed happier today, more festive and alive. As she walked through the parking lot, the sound of music, cheers, and the scent of food drifted through the air. It smelled wonderful. Each place brought new sensations atop the old ones.
The path she took was the same one she took that night. Dancing, giggling, and music continued playing. It was late, but the party wouldn¡¯t stop until the sun came up for most people. Elena found that comforting. Before she¡¯d be angry, irritated, or bothered by people using their time that way, but today she understood. Sometimes rest involved activity, and sometimes that activity involved living a little differently than normal. Instead of anger, a sense of contentment filled her in a way that felt new, but right.
Elena took a deep breath, enjoying the scents, sounds, and music. The houses and shadows no longer seemed mad, as if rejecting her very presence. Now, the houses and their shadows seemed happy to see her. Their shadows reached across lawns, and broken streets, and met her own. It felt surreal as if this was who she was meant to be.
She continued to the university path, past the neighborhood, towards the familiar stretch of road that led to the burned ruins of learning. A line of police cruisers drove down the road. They didn¡¯t stop for her, and they didn¡¯t seem in too much of a hurry to care. Their light didn¡¯t turn on, nor did their sirens. They drove down the road, one after the other like a parade of silent knights who failed in their duty.
It didn¡¯t take long for Elena to stand before the broken iron of the university gates. She paid the message on the ground no mind and continued forward. What greeted her was the same burned university. Only, instead of the subtle sense of order it seemed to hold, now there were pieces of furniture strewn across lawns, piles of clothes tossed around, and already broken walls were now more broken than they had been only hours before.
She looked at the fountain, abandoned, without its owner. She looked at the metal rod that pierced the statue of Rykard. She felt a sense of wrongness, not at Rykard being pierced, but at William not being where he should be. He couldn¡¯t have been captured. He seemed careful, deliberate. When she had walked to the stage, he tried to pull her back to safety, as if he knew they would¡¯ve gotten caught. He had to be safe.
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¡°William, are you out there?¡± She calls out in not quite a yell. She waited, listening for the wandering man, but the only sounds she heard were those of the wind and rustling leaves in the trees and ground. ¡°William?¡± She tried again, as she walked through the plaza. Silence.
She continued through the path. The wind pressed through the leaves of trees, dancing through her long hair and loose dress. The wet earth provided familiar scents of a new season, and the dampness provided a comforting sensation that only came for fall. She found her way to the tower, noted the broken desks, and strewn and wet paper, and climbed the familiar steps. It¡¯d been weeks since this place had been new to her, and now it felt more like home than the one she just left. Up the path, she found her floor and walked down the hall to her room.
A familiar scene greeted her. Piles of trash from the snacks she had eaten over the weeks, and a small pile of clothes that was her bed. During the weeks she felt hungry, she assumed it was because a part of her was still alive, or that she was a kind of Jaan that needed to eat. That first night, when she saw the Necromancer, she felt dead, like the night itself had invaded her. But, the next night, after being next to William, she felt warm, like she was alive. Elena assumed it had to do with the magic settling inside her, but whenever she felt her heart, she felt it beat back at her. She had no answers, no way of knowing that she wasn¡¯t undead, not until those stones were shown to her, and she felt nothing. Now, she didn¡¯t know what to think. What exactly did happen to her those weeks ago?
Once she changed into her usual set of clothes, she looked out through the window. Lights changed, and music dwindled. The night would soon be ending, and anyone not at a long-lasting party would soon be asleep. It was fine. Elena knew that this particular night couldn¡¯t last forever. ¡°I wish this night did last forever,¡± she said aloud. ¡°In my books, Sin used to hold a market. She¡¯d open the doors for all sorts of things to come through. If I could¡¯ve seen that, it would¡¯ve been amazing.¡± Elena sighed at the thought. The old stories comforted her still and brought her relief, a sense of adventure. The Necromancer still intrigued her, but she was sure that the man on the stage was not the Necromancer. She looked down over the university, it seemed more ruined than she wanted to admit.
At the fountain, she sat on the ledge. Back at the starting line, she wondered if she even made any progress at all. She spent the last few weeks wandering the Deuda with him and found nothing. It troubled her. Didn¡¯t that fortune teller say she¡¯d meet him? Or, darkness? On the ledge of the familiar fountain, she found her eyes drifting to the statue and wondered how mad someone would have to be to throw it so hard.
¡°What do I do?¡± she said, as if to the moon just beyond the statue. It was full, bright, and full of power. ¡°The Necromancer is still around, so there¡¯s still something I could do. But¡¡± she paused, admitting what felt more important, more pressing to her. ¡°Where is William?¡±The nights they spent together, sharing their interests and their lives. It felt right. She sighed. As she was about to stand and begin her, no doubt, fruitless search, a familiar black cat, with fur as deep as the night ran at her from the shadows.
Chapter 28
The Necromancer was most commonly seen with a black cat.
Shade bounded through the night straight to Elena¡¯s waiting lap. She sat back down and petted the shaking creature. Vibrations resounded through her, letting her know that Shade considered her a safe person and that he was afraid. Elena considered if he¡¯d ever sat on her lap before, and realized he¡¯d never done this. He¡¯d usually run through the dark, roll in the dirt, or focus on William. She let herself enjoy the moment. Worries about William quickly faded, he¡¯d be out there somewhere, likely wandering, hiding, to escape the police or prying eyes.
Still, the thought that he¡¯s been taken, or captured, filled her with dread. What if the police came for him? He¡¯s undead, they¡¯d want him, and they¡¯d kill him. Thoughts of William trapped in a cell, unable to wander around like he wants to, and unable to enjoy the night air, scared her. He didn¡¯t seem to enjoy cramped spaces and tended to avoid the other undead, except for.
The thought ended. Elena tried to remember how William interacted with the other undead, and he always kept away from them, so she did too. All those nights, they¡¯d wandered alone, just the two of them. It made all the sense in the world. She petted Shade and felt his wild purring subside into a more even tempo. The cold air felt good on his fur. She sighed, and relished the moments, wondering where exactly William had gone.
Shade stood, and sat to her side. He raised his paw and began cleaning himself. He appeared regal as if he wanted Elena to watch him take his bath. She waited, half expecting the little void to run off into the night at a moment¡¯s notice, as he often seemed to do. Instead, he took his time, carefully washing his face, and cleaning between his toe pads. When he finished, he sat there, gauging her.
After a few moments, Elena felt a tugging sensation on her heart, as if it were being pulled. The sensation didn¡¯t feel as though her heart were being pulled down, or up, but rather outward. It wasn¡¯t forceful enough to cause her to lurch forward, but it instead felt as though a piece of string had been pulled from her heart, and connected to Shade. He sat there and looked content with himself.
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Shade appeared more real, more focused in her eyes, and more than he was before. Somehow, he seemed larger, more imposing. Without saying any words, Shade seemed to communicate an intention, ¡°Save. William.¡±
Elena leaned forward, unable to believe what she felt she understood. ¡°Did you say something?¡±
¡°Must save. William.¡±
Elena lept back and pushed herself backward against the ledge of the fountain. She¡¯d seen undead, but a talking cat felt more in line with the old stories of Jaan.
¡°How are you doing that?¡± She asked. Curiosity won out and allowed her to bring herself closer to Shade.
¡°Soul. Special. Mine accept. William, too.¡±
He nonchalantly walked over to Elena, became comfortable on her lap, and began purring. It took Elena a few minutes to calm down and began to pet Shade again. Old stories popped into her head about the Necromancer and about the Jaan. One type of story stood out, the stories that talked about the Necromancer and a black cat that followed him around. The stories said that the black cat was a regular cat, but some of them said that long ago the Necromancer tamed a shadow panther.
If the shadow panther became a normal-sized cat, then he¡¯d look like the purring ball in her lap. She remembered how, sometimes, William seemed to talk to Shade, as if they could understand each other. Moments where William would wander off, or when he didn¡¯t trust the fortune teller, or how he¡¯d react when she talked about the old stories. She looked at the purring cat in her lap and asked the question that was on her mind.
¡°Is William the Necromancer?¡± she asked, not quite expecting a response, but hoping anyway.
¡°Help. William. Save. Need us. William lonely. Taken.¡±
Shade¡¯s response didn¡¯t quite answer her question, but one fact remained true in her mind. Everyone hated the Necromancer, shunned him, and hunted him down. Maybe Shade finally trusted her. For now, she¡¯d believe that William hid the truth because of how people react.
¡°Where is he? Who took him?¡±
It took a few moments for Shade to respond. He seemed to contemplate his words, even though he remained curled into a ball. ¡°Lady. Skull person. Cult. Bad people. Friend William. Taken. Slave.¡±
It was broken up, but maybe Shade had a hard time communicating. It sounded like a lady took him, and a skull person took him. It was the cult? Shade seemed genuinely tired. She sat there for a time, stroking his fur, wishing she knew where he was taken, and what to do.
Chapter 29
If saving her meant my true end, then I¡¯d do it without hesitation.
In the dark, William followed his captors through the brush. They seemingly had no rhyme or reason for the path they took, often going around in a full circle. They managed to avoid branches and thicker bushes, and the binding allowed William to avoid them as well. While the binding forced him to retain a constant distance away, it didn¡¯t prevent him from hearing some of them talk.
Closer to the front, Sonverte and the Royal Tree talked in hushed tones that didn¡¯t quite reach William. However, the two closest to him didn¡¯t speak so quietly, and they seemed to not care about William being so close.
¡°With him around, we can finally destroy the church,¡± the one on the left said in a much too eager tone. William didn¡¯t mind this too much, the church was run by one of the men who made his life torture. It was what the other one said that disturbed him.
¡°Yeah! Once we destroy the church, then we can destroy the city. It¡¯ll be perfect, we¡¯ll all be free.¡± William wanted to interject, but the binding didn¡¯t allow him to speak. The conversation continued anyway as everyone ducked slightly to avoid a branch.
¡°What do you think the fakes will do?¡± The one on the left said, in a slightly worried tone. ¡°You think they¡¯ll sit there and let the city be destroyed, or will they do something?¡±
¡°Won¡¯t matter,¡± the one on the right said. ¡°We have the real one, he¡¯ll be able to deal with them easily enough.¡± Again, William wanted to fight against the binding, to argue and scream that he had no idea what they were talking about. Of all his lives, he only used his power to create undead once. If they were talking about the church, then they¡¯d be more familiar with his power than he would be. William wished he could bite his tongue, or do anything, but then his bones would be theirs, and that¡¯d be a worse problem. If they got his bones, then they¡¯d be able to make necromancers as they pleased, which begged the question, why keep him alive?
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William followed the group through the paths, brush, and dirt. He quickly realized that the path they were on was the same one he and Elena had taken all those weeks ago. Silently, he toyed with the bond. While he couldn¡¯t destroy it, on occasion he was able to form a bond to someone, instead of accepting a bond from someone. He¡¯d known the Iteri could do that, but no matter how he tried it wouldn¡¯t work.
As he inspected the bond, he wondered who could have taught her how to do it. None of the Iteri could be alive, and if they were he would know about it. Maybe one of the Guards taught her? He quickly dismissed the idea since they hadn¡¯t been themselves in a long time.
They walk through the woods to the Royal Tree, the same building he and Elena had seen. Talismans hung from the branches, and streamers wrapped around the trunk and hung from many branches. The woman, the Royal Tree, walked forward and to the back of the tree, not to the front. There doesn¡¯t seem to be anything there, but she places her hand against the tree and pulls back what looks like a thread. She pulled it to her lips and spoke, ¡°I bear the name of the land, and the land bears mine.¡±
William hadn¡¯t seen anything like it. It didn¡¯t look exactly like something the Iteri could do, similar, yes, but different. Where was she from? Inside the tree was a stairwell that lead down, far down, under the roots. Inside are large caches of books and tomes. Some of them bore scorch marks. Were they from the ruined library? He speculates that she learned the binding spell from these books, but that alone wouldn¡¯t be able to explain her skill.
Farther in are caches of bones. Many of them look like human bones, but there are some that look like Jaan bones. Anger wells up inside him, and again he struggles to speak and break free. As if sensing his irritation, Royal Tree looked back, and spoke, ¡°I didn¡¯t kill them. I found them, gathered them.¡± This failed to completely subside his irritation.
Farther in the hole, sconces lined the walls, stone formes where dirt once laid, and a wrought iron gate greeted them at the deepest level. There, Royal Tree forced William to open it. When he does, it leads out into a bazaar. ¡°So, it does work when he does it.¡± William wanted to interject and ask what she meant, but she spoke. ¡°The Cold Mother would open pathways for trad. The paths are still open, but people in this world couldn¡¯t reach them without her power. Come, there are certain things we need here if we¡¯re going to free her.¡±
Chapter 30
It¡¯s time to panic
Nahual walked into the police station bearing bad news. Rykard told him that the Necromancer hadn¡¯t been caught, confirming that evil still walked free among the people. Inside, under the bright lights and familiar smell of day-old coffee, Nahual saw people panicking. Most of the people were actually doing work filling out paperwork.
However, an equal amount were talking over each other. Most of the topics centered around the sightings that were coming in. Many people had called the station about seeing a figure along the city wall wrapped in a cloak and hook and holding a staff. Others, a smaller amount, were panicking over the sightings of more undead. They hadn¡¯t seen any at the university or other locations they¡¯d marked, but they¡¯d spotted undead among the people intermingled with people in costumes. They¡¯d only noticed because there were fights among the populace, and the police, still bearing the stones, had brought them too close to the groups. Several undead melted and struggled against the cops. Some of the police were now panicking at their desks, their fervor to find the Necromancer diminished.
Nahual went to Chief Vedra¡¯s office and asked what had happened. He repeated the same thing Nahual had heard.
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¡°The Necromancer has been spotted along the walls. Several undead have been spotted throughout the city, Nahual. It¡¯s all hands on deck.¡± From behind his desk, Vedra appeared as powerful as he had before. Nahual felt pride that he could follow a figure to protect the city.
¡°Rykard confirmed it at the temple, chief. The Necromancer hasn¡¯t been caught. It¡¯s more than likely that the sightings are accurate.¡±
Chief Vedra sighed and shrank slightly. Then, he pushed himself out of his chair and stood at his full height. ¡°I had hoped that this was a ruse, or an attempt to get us to chase phantoms. But, if Rykard says it¡¯s true, then it¡¯s time.¡±
The chief left his office and stood before his board. His presence alone calmed the turbulent atmosphere. Once the room had completely quieted, he began.
¡°There have been concerns regarding the sightings of the Necromancer. We had assumed that we caught all of the undead, or hopefully the Necromancer.¡± He paused and watched the crowd, their worried faces. He sighed, and spoke, ¡°the city will now enforce a curfew. We will now actively hunt the undead, and verify individual identities, and status. Lastly,¡± Chief Vedra paused, ¡°the church will likely call the paladins into the city. If anyone sees them, do as they say.¡±
Nahual stood to the side and took it all in. He hoped it would end soon, and that the city would be purged of evil. Nahual felt his sense of purpose reignite. The station around him, again in a clamor, but he vows to do everything he can to catch the Necromancer.