《Eclipse: The Undying Legion》


 Prologue 0

    ~*~


    Death in this wretched land came in many forms; perhaps a fall from a great height, a bad case of food poisoning, or even a sword through the heart, sawed back and forth repeatedly until the mangled body no longer twitched.


    But death, on these soils that glow a faint piss-yellow, did not grant a sweet release: it was a shackle of eternal servitude.


    Amidst the screams that rang through the once boisterous town square stood a distinctively male figure. Basking in the moonlight, his immaculate black suit, ramrod straight back and contrasting white gloves made him the very image of a gentlemanly butler.


    That was, if one ignored the fact that he floated two meters off the ground.


    And that the left half his face was a black skull.


    The undead butler did not sport the calm, stoic expression that was expected from his stature. His face, whatever remained of it, twisted, his brow furrowed and lips snarled.


    He surveyed the ruined town. Black skeletons, clad in smoking plate armor and wielding swords and bows swarmed the town as they conducted their mindless slaughter. Armored men grouped up and fended off the onslaught as the town folks fled towards the gates but even they knew their actions were futile. The undead numbered more than ten times that of the remaining humans, not including the dead that were soon to rise. They were all under the command of his liege.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    His wonderful liege, whose power dwarfed his own, who he swore his absolute fealty to. Normally a mere mention of his liege would evoke happiness and pride. But the butler''s reminiscing did not bring joy.


    Those bastards.


    A pulse of darkness radiated from him as he shook, his gloved fists clenched. The screams around him grew louder as the ground rumbled in response. This continued for several minutes, but eventually, he stopped. He could not put it off any longer. He had his orders, and they were absolute.


    The red flame in his skeletal socket dimmed as he closed his only remaining eye. Then, after a moment, he had a bird''s eye view of another town. Similar in size, but rather different.


    Ah, a minor obstacle I see.


    Sighing, he ended his scry and waved an arm towards the sky. Strength left him as he descended on the dirt road. All around him, the shadows cast by the moonlight and even the very darkness of the night came to life. The air shuddered before shadows streaked up from the entire town¡ªa rising black curtain that blotted out the moon and seemed to curtail the dying town''s demise. Then, the shadows coalesced and molded into physical forms.


    It took just a moment, but nearly fifty winged monsters materialized in the air as they simultaneously let out a cry. The resulting cacophony of unworldly shrieking drowned out even the cries of the town. The monsters'' grotesque features were such that no two creatures looked the same. The only common points they shared were that they had wings, were black, skeletal, and more than twice the butler''s size.


    The butler turned and pointed towards the horizon. The flying creatures took off at once. Words were unnecessary.


    Took more out of me than I expected.


    Shaking his head, he turned to look down the street towards the town gates. The cries from the retreating men had all but died out as the final few stragglers were surrounded by the skeletal troops.


    A pity.


    He would find a way to kill those bastards. But first, he needed to rest. Thankfully, he still had time.

 Chapter 1.1

    ~*~


    A faint orange glow flickered above my palm before fizzing out of existence. I had let out an embarrassing yelp when the sharp heat pricked my hand but thankfully none of my classmates noticed. Well, they usually ignored me anyway.


    I stared at the tendrils of smoke as they twirled a slow dance and dispersed. The smoke was proof that it wasn''t my imagination.


    I had finally done it.


    Sure, half an hour of concentration for a puff of smoke sounded pretty pathetic but it was my best result so far. Fine, my only result so far.


    It was my last month attending Master Grishaw¡¯s beginner magic class. The course on the fundamental theory of magecraft was free for anyone over the age of fifteen in the towns the Mage Guild operated in. Even folks from nearby villages would sometimes send their kids in for lessons. Apparently the King made a deal with the Guild Master. It was a simple win-win: more citizens would be equipped with basic magecraft and the Guild got their hands on talents they discovered.


    I had been looking forward to becoming a mage and following in my mother¡¯s footsteps. I even had absurd dreams of being so abnormally gifted that the Guild recruited me on the spot. As it turned out, I had an abnormality alright¡ªmy lack of elemental affinity was to a degree that was previously unheard of. Master Grishaw proclaimed that I wouldn¡¯t be able to cast anything worthwhile even if I dedicated my life to the craft.


    Damn if I wasn''t going to prove him wrong.


    Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Master Grishaw before quickly darting my eyes to the right where a clock hung by the window. Fifteen minutes left before class ended. Not good.


    The lesson had progressed while I was lost in concentration. Master Grishaw droned on about the history of mankind¡¯s magic. It was something about how the first High King was bestowed the knowledge of magecraft after he led his people against a demonic invasion. Master Grishaw waved his arm around as he recounted the tales of the legendary battle, his staff tapping along with each step he took. Nobody really paid attention, not that he seemed to mind. An eccentric old man, though that was to be expected from a mage his age. At least he was kempt; his cloak always ironed and his long white beard trimmed and tidy.


    A retired Master Mage from the Guild, I thought, no other reason for someone of his caliber to be at a frontier town like this. The Guild didn''t even have a proper presence here after all, besides him and the school building.


    I shifted in my seat. Ten minutes left. Everyone was practicing their magic. Our teacher finished his story and sat down by his desk before taking a swig from his mug. I looked to my right. The boy sat next to me had a small fire over his hand. I don¡¯t know his name, but I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s from the villages. He balled up his fist as the magic extinguished before opening it with a flick, summoning an even larger flame.


    No way I could do that.


    Still, I tried practicing, struggling for a few moments. Useless. I couldn''t concentrate. I took another deep breath, my breathing was steadily getting out of hand. I closed my eyes for a few seconds until I felt like I was in control. Then I stole a quick glance towards my left.


    Sitting by the doorway was Sarah.


    She was the popular one. She was smart, good in magic, and had an affinity for one of the rarest elements¡ªthat of Light itself. Awakening it had caused her hair to turn snow white. It seemed she was set for recruitment to the Guild, and people wanted to be friends with her. To everyone, she was kind and talented. Beautiful too. Not the sharp, seductive type of beauty but the pleasant, girl-next-door kind that made you drop your guard around her. She was a charming yet powerful wielder of the Light. An angel.


    A stark contrast to me, a thin, frail-looking girl with messy dirt-brown hair who was utterly useless in magic.


    Bile rose to my throat. Five minutes left. My head started to hurt. I inched my notes towards myself, my other hand already poised to grab my bag. I quickly went through my plan in my head: the things I needed to do; the route I would take; the contingencies I made. Then, a clap.


    "Alright, that''s enough for today. Remember to practice," said Master Grishaw as he stood and picked up his staff. As usual, he was the first to leave.


    Shit.


    The other students quickly got up and mingled about. Chatter filled the room. The social groups were well established and everyone had their obligations. Not me though. I was always alone. The weird kid in class nobody spoke to, lest they contracted my magical inaptitude.


    I placed a palm over my chest, feeling along the edges of the crescent amulet my mother left me. It was hidden under my shirt though; I wouldn¡¯t dare let anyone see me with anything vaguely valuable. I shoved my notes into my bag and silently counted to ten before standing up. I kept my head low as I made my way to the exit. I wanted out but I couldn¡¯t be among the first to leave; that would attract too much attention. Near the doorway, I quietly joined the stream of students that were leaving, making sure to keep my eyes down.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    We walked along the dirt path towards the town square. The school sat by its lonesome off the back of the town so the journey to the housing districts took a few minutes. Meanwhile, I did my best to meld into the group.


    Then, as we got past a set of alleyways, I slipped out of the crowd and into the darkness. I stumbled a little as I half-sprinted to the back of the alley, careful not to make too much noise. The shadows cast by the evening sun meant that nobody would notice me unless they really looked. This was my safe spot. It helped me survive the past week, and I would continue using it until I completed Master Grishaw''s course.


    I stayed on alert. A few minutes passed as my eyes darted between every passing person on the street as walked by the alley. Thankfully, I wasn¡¯t followed. Now, I just had to wait it out. Half an hour or so would be enough. I let out a deep sigh and squatted, massaging my trembling hands. With the tension in my shoulders finally released, I found myself once again wishing I had the ability to wield magic.


    If only I was a mage; I could then conjure myself a warm relaxing bath to soothe my aching muscles.


    ~*~


    The sound of feet striking the dirt road broke me out of my reverie.


    Instinctively, I held my breath and froze. My eyes shot towards the entrance of the alley. Three silhouettes came into view. All three were female.


    ¡°Oh my! Elizabeth, is that you?¡± One of the girls exclaimed in glee.


    Pain shot through my back and I found myself greeted by a view of the evening sky. I gasped as I struggled to take in a breath before realizing what happened¡ªa gust of wind had lifted me up and slammed me onto the ground. Then, I felt a boulder smash into my gut and explode.


    A choked whimper left my lips as I curled into a ball. Again I couldn¡¯t breathe. I blinked back tears; all I could think of was pain. And cold. Wet. I wasn¡¯t struck by a piece of rock: it was a condensed ball of water. My sides burned, probably from scratches against the dirt ground when the impact skidded me back.


    I tried to get to my feet, to get away somehow. I could feel dirt crumble off me as strands of wet hair stuck across my face. My limbs ached and my stomach throbbed as waves of pain washed through me. Not looking forward to the nasty bruise tomorrow.


    Another gust of wind crashed into me, making me slip on the wet ground and sprawl face down into the alley. A foot smashed onto my hand and I bit back a cry. I felt a jolt through my scalp as an arm grasped my hair and yanked my head up. For the first time that week, I found myself staring into Sarah¡¯s eyes.


    She looked so pretty up close even through my tears. Her petite face, round eyes, and that bright innocent smile she flashed at me was everything I didn¡¯t have. I was plain, average, inept. Inferior.


    White light shone from somewhere above me and Sarah¡¯s pupils started sparkling. I flinched, but managed to not look away; I wasn¡¯t going to give her that at the very least. Warmth radiated from the top of my head before it spread through me. Wherever it touched my pain lessened, and soon even the throbbing and nausea dissipated. She held me in the same position throughout, her smile unfaltering as the warmth slowly worked its magic.


    Then, suddenly, it was over. Sarah¡¯s smile grew even wider.


    ¡°How careless of you to slip and fall like that. Oh, what will you do without me?¡±


    She tilted her head and brought a finger to her lips, her expression turned pensive.


    ¡°Please do be careful, I hear dark alleys can be quite dangerous,¡± she said as she finally let go of my hair, shifting her weight onto my hand before stepping off. I winced as her heel dug into my flesh, but the pain was nothing compared to what I just went through.


    I stayed silent, staring as she turned around and strutted away. She started shaking her hand as if she had just touched filth while her two friends giggled and followed behind her.


    I lay there, unmoving. I was wet, my shirt slightly torn and I could see in my peripheral that my bag had been thrown against the alley wall, its contents strewn all over the soaked ground.


    ¡°You can¡¯t hide from me,¡± Sarah¡¯s sing-song voice echoed as they turned the corner and left.


    I crawled to my feet. My cuts had been healed, though a dull ache still radiated from my stomach. Thegirls were more physical than usual today. I never had any evidence against them though, and I probably never will. I made my way towards my bag, picking up the things that fell out. The small knife I carried with me was half-buried in mud, but at least my coin pouch was intact and my quill didn¡¯t fall out.


    I gathered the scattered sheets of paper one piece at a time. These were notes from Master Grishaw¡¯s class, written on paper that the Guild provided. I didn¡¯t have many left, and I couldn''t afford more. They were all soggy and disgustingly brown. Even the cleaner spots had ink that had smudged into a hideous, illegible mess. Hours of hard work from the past week gone just like that. Destroyed. Ruined.


    "FUCKING BITCH!" I screamed as I flung the bundle of paper against the wall.


    I cursed my weakness. I wished I was stronger. I wished could stand up to them. But what could I do? They had magic, damn it. Maybe I could stall them for half an hour before smothering them with a puff of smoke, make them choke on their saliva when they coughed or something.


    I laughed as strength left me and I slumped against the wall.


    Pathetic.


    I hated this. I hated being powerless. Hated being weak.


    My headache came back in full force. My ears started ringing.


    I needed to get stronger. I needed power. Then I¡¯d tear her facade apart and reveal the monster beneath. Heck, I¡¯d even tear her face apart. I¡¯d ruin her and hurt her just as she had hurt me. I''d cut her. Watch her bleed. Yes, I''d break her. Make her pay. Make her¡ª


    No, stop, Elizabeth, I told myself. You''re better than this.


    I shook my head, my breathing ragged. Grasping my crescent amulet in both hands, I closed my eyes and pushed everything away. I thought of my mother. I recalled her teachings, her lessons on kindness. I saw her explaining to me her values as she tucked me into bed, the memory still clear as day despite the passage of time.


    No, that was wrong. It¡¯s our values.


    I remembered her smile, the touch of her hand as she stroked my back when I cried, the tune she used to hum when she carried me. I remembered my promise to her. My headache was gone now, the ringing stopped. I was calm. I knew what I had to do.


    I''d get stronger. I''d awaken my magic somehow and prove them wrong. Then I''d use my powers to stop others from going through what I experienced. I''d do good and right wrongs. I¡¯d be so strong, nobody would ever look down on me again.

 Chapter 1.2

    ~*~


    In the end, I went to the river that cut through the town to wash off the dirt and stains. The sun had almost set when I reached home. Actually, it was my aunt¡¯s place, and I¡¯d only been living there for a year, but I guess it was home nonetheless.


    Oliver answered the door when I knocked and wordlessly gave me a nod. He was my older cousin by a year, though we weren¡¯t close at all. The brown-haired youth barely even gave me enough time to greet him before he disappeared into the main hall, likely headed upstairs to rest.


    Aunt Helen was a tailor and so the ground floor was the workshop itself. I boarded up the door behind me and quickly dashed to my room¡ªa storage room connected to the hall that held rolls of fabric. A corner had been cleared and a straw mattress laid on the wooden floor for me, a rough wool blanket serving as my covers. It wasn¡¯t comfortable, it didn¡¯t even have a door, but I was grateful. That and I had brought along my wool pillow from my house so it wasn¡¯t all bad.


    Dropping my bag, I quickly changed into my only other set of clothes and examined the damaged shirt once more. The tears didn¡¯t look too bad once the dirt had washed off; maybe I didn¡¯t need to repair it after all. I dried off my hair as best I could before returning to the hall. Oliver hadn¡¯t even reacted when I showed up dripping wet, guess he really didn''t give a damn about me.


    I sat at the table where a single bowl of pottage rested. It was late in the evening, a few hours before curfew, and everyone probably finished their dinner long ago. I should be happy that Oliver stayed downstairs to wait for me, but my mind was weirdly fixated on the fact that he ignored me.


    Even my cousin doesn¡¯t talk to me.


    I sat in silence as I wolfed down the food. It was bland but filling, and I was hungry. Next to me, a fire in the hearth burnt, casting the room into a pretty shade of orange. The fire roared with gusto, throwing out glowing golden embers that twirled and danced as they descended, tiny sparkling stars that gave their all before they returned to the ground; spent but with their purpose fulfilled.


    I sat there for a few moments, my bowl empty as I admired the flames, watching as some of the embers tried escaping up the chimney.


    I wanted to escape too. Aunt Helen was really kind to me but nothing could compare to being with my father. That man was forgetful, careless, and sometimes even thoughtless, but I still missed the heck out of him. That and he could swear like the best of them, and that was awesome.


    Maybe three more months at most, from what I heard from the merchants, and this stupid war would be over and he''d be back. And one more month to go before I¡¯d be free from Sarah.


    But that also meant that I had only a month left to awaken my magic and get an apprenticeship. As much as I wanted to be optimistic, I knew that it wasn¡¯t likely to happen. I¡¯d be better off keeping my head off the clouds and being more practical, even if it meant giving up my dreams. Maybe... I should get an apprenticeship in tailoring and be like Aunt Helen.


    Instantly, I felt nauseous; heh, who knew even my body would reject the idea.


    I sighed and grumbled as I cleaned the bowl and returned to my room. There, I held up the amulet my mother left me. Even in the dark room, lit only by the fading sunlight and the fireplace outside, the silver crescent shone and showed its brilliance. It was supposedly a magical charm that would grant protection against a single life-threatening blow, though I mainly saw it as a trinket my mother left me. Father told me she had worn it herself before I was born, and I¡¯d never take it off even when I slept¡ªI felt like my mother was still with me when I wore it. Maybe that was part of its magical effects.


    I sat cross-legged on my bed. With only one remaining month, I should practice as much as I could. Recalling the steps I had taken to draw out my mana, I concentrated on the rhythm of my heartbeat and reached in, focusing on a region deep within my chest, close to where my heart was. I pictured a thread tied to a door that guarded my mana reserve and, with an exhale, I pulled. There was a slight tingle as a tinge of cold seemed to inch out from my chest. This was the feeling I held on to when I summoned my first flame in class earlier today. Well, more like first puff of smoke.


    Beggars can¡¯t be choosers, I guess.


    It had taken me half an hour¡¯s worth of concentration to guide the slow-moving bit of mana to my hand, but I wasn¡¯t complaining. After all, it had taken me two whole months to get to the point where I could access my mana reserve. Well, at least I had a mana reserve.


    Maybe I just needed more? That tiny bit of mana probably wasn¡¯t enough to sustain a flame. Master Grishaw had told us the amount of mana we could draw out was fixed and would only slowly increase with practice, but what could I really lose?


    And so I kept pulling, despite nothing really changing. I ditched the thread and imagined a large iron chain instead that was bolted straight onto the door, and yanked with all my might. My head started hurting. It wasn¡¯t enough; I needed more. So I did the only thing I thought of: I pictured two chains instead of just one and heaved. No matter how painful my head got, I didn¡¯t stop. I had a single thought in my mind¡ªSarah.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    I needed power to stand up to that two-faced bitch.


    Suddenly, something snapped. What was a drop of coolness in my chest became a piercing icy cold that shot through my veins. It was as if a pipe within me had unclogged itself and I felt an intense rush as mana circulated within me with wild abandon.


    I gathered my trembling hands. I was almost too afraid to move, in case what miracle bestowed upon me would disappear if I even breathed wrongly. I didn¡¯t even dare pinch myself: what if the pain made this go away! A few seconds passed as I tried to steady myself before realizing it was futile.


    Oh, fuck it! Who cares about being calm, I can finally cast real magic with this!


    I went through the steps familiar to me. I imagined a flame; I saw the light it granted as it flickered and flared, and felt the intense heat it radiated as it roared. With that image firmly affixed in my mind¡¯s eye, I crammed as much mana as I could into my hands and willed the fire into existence.


    Soundlessly, a huge ball of fire the size of my head erupted from above my outstretched palms. My eyes widened. It wasn¡¯t the orange that I had imagined, nor did it give off any heat like I thought it would. No, it was black; blacker than obsidian and darker than the darkest night. It was also cold; so cold, in fact, that my fingers started going numb in just seconds.


    I stared at it, my mouth agape. Wha¡­ what in the world¡ª


    Abruptly, it disappeared. My room spun as I leaned over and retched. The cold within me receded and in its place was pain, as if someone had ran a hammer through me. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing happened. My body had stopped responding to me. I watched in slow-motion as I toppled over, the floor rushing to meet my face.


    ~*~


    When I came to, I was lying on the ground in a pool of sweat. I didn¡¯t know how long I was out, but it had gotten significantly darker. I shakily got up and examined myself. My left cheek hurt, I was bleeding from my lower lip, and my throat was parched, but thankfully I hadn¡¯t broken my nose or lost any teeth. My body also seemed okay though I was exhausted. I wasn¡¯t sure if I could still channel mana as well as I just did, but it was probably a bad idea to test it now. It sure was tempting though.


    Tomorrow, I told myself, after a night¡¯s rest.


    I dropped back down onto my bed. What the hell was going on? I¡¯ve never seen a cold flame that burnt black. And more importantly, why didn¡¯t it work? I thought I had done the impossible when I got a good mana flow going, but why couldn¡¯t I cast the spell that almost everyone used daily?


    ¡°I just want to be a mage,¡± I whispered as I dug my face into my pillow.


    All you have to do is ask.


    I jumped into a crouch and went on full alert. Where had that voice come from? Hugging my pillow to my chest, I snatched the knife from my bag and brandished it towards the doorway.


    Who was that? A burglar?


    My room was dark, and the only source of light was the red glow of the hearth that shone into the room from the doorway. The shadows cast by the scattered rolls of textile moved seemingly on their own accord, dancing and flickering about. Nothing. I half expected to see a pair of eyes staring back at me from the darkness, but there really was nothing.


    Show yourself, you coward. My bed was my fortress, and I wasn''t going to let anybody invade it.


    I gripped my knife harder. No, wait a second. The voice hadn¡¯t sounded like it came from any direction in particular. It hadn¡¯t even sounded human. It had a deep reverberation and seemed to echo from all around me. But that wasn¡¯t possible. It was as if¡­ it came from inside my head.


    Still, I wasn¡¯t going to let my guard down. Either I was going crazy or someone had broken in somehow. Neither option was good but I sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to discount the latter right away. Or rather, a part of me wished it was the latter. I kept my posture and stayed quiet. My uncle always barred the door leading upstairs after everyone had their dinner so I didn¡¯t have to worry about them.


    A loud clang rang through the town, causing me to jump.


    Damn curfew bell.


    I hesitated a moment before tearing myself off the safety of my bed. I tip-toed towards the doorway, my eyes constantly scanning my surroundings. Come at me, asshole. I had my knife and I wasn¡¯t afraid to use it.


    I crept into the hall. Aside from the cracking of the flame from the hearth, everything was quiet. There were no signs of anyone being on the ground floor besides me, and a quick glance towards the main doorway showed that it was still boarded up the way I left it. The shutters to the windows were still open but the openings were too thin for anyone to squeeze through. Was I really hearing things?


    "Elizabeth dear?" Aunt Helen called out from upstairs, snapping me out of my thoughts.


    ¡°I got it,¡± I yelled as I walked over to the hearth. After one last check around the hall, I picked up the nearby rake and removed the burning logs from where the fire burnt, sweeping the hot ashes aside. I then raked the cold ashes back over the fire and watched as it sputtered out. The hearth no longer burnt but still gave off enough heat. This had been my nightly routine since I started living with Aunt Helen. It¡¯s only been a year but it still gave me a sense of normality.


    Feeling slightly better, I went over to the table by the hearth and poured myself a cup of water. There wasn¡¯t an intruder, and I was sure I hadn¡¯t imagined the voice. It had been too loud and too clear to be something I misheard. So, what? Were there voices in my head now? I doubted this was normal, but I wasn¡¯t sure if I¡¯d tell anyone about it. I didn¡¯t want my aunt to worry, and my uncle wouldn¡¯t give a damn. Master Grishaw would probably know something about it, but I wasn¡¯t going to risk letting Sarah gain more ammunition against me.


    I could deal with useless, uncouth and untalented, but to add on insane as well? Yea, no thank you.


    As I finished my drink, I decided to simply stop worrying about it and returned to my room, my bare feet pattering against the warm wooden floor. I was too tired to care. If I had a chance, I¡¯d ask Master Grishaw about it, otherwise, it wasn¡¯t urgent unless the voice reappeared. I scooted up to the corner of my bed and pulled my covers over me. More important was that weird black flame; I definitely needed to ask about it. I giggled. Perhaps the weird one was me.


    First the constant headaches. Then a nonsensical flame. Now, I was even hearing voices in my head. Yea, maybe I¡¯ve finally lost it.


    But hey, at least that flame looked pretty badass.