Chapter 18
All about Undeath
It is about seventy kilometers to the capital – albeit only fifty north, the only distance that matter – the furthest I have ever attempted to teleport. TheNewCity has some tall building, so to be sure I fly higher than any of them, before teleporting to an empty field beyond the wall.
On arrival, I feel a rush of air but no feeling of acceleration. “They were right, it was only about as fast as my best running speed. I have gone a lot faster than that with flying.” I need to remember to take something to test for acceleration next time. Maybe something like a frail glass ball with some marbles inside.
I head back to my workshop, inside are a few apprentices working on the bag of holding or their own projects. "Call the others in, I have a task for you: I want at least four golem cores to use as shields in our exploration. As such, do not worry about quality, just throw together whatever scraps you find.”
As for the knights’ enchants, what should I do? A single crystal in the helmet? It puts both the crystal and the knight at risk, and I know from experience there is not a lot of room up there.
Engraving the spell directly on the helmet? It deals with the space problem, it would need some serious denting to break the spell… but the efficiency of metal is terrible, and if I socket it, it would be the same as the first option.
Ah! Right, just because the spell is related to vision does not mean it has to be to put it anywhere near the head. I for one, keep all of mines as medallions… even if they mostly end up inside my rib cage rather than on my chest. In any case, the torso is both the roomiest and the most protected part of the armor, so a medallion will work perfectly in that regard.
Next is the spell itself, I first write the clairvoyance spell, add a classic activation switch, and since the knights are not that good with magic, I try to incorporate a method to help them supply the mana. I am not sure how efficient it will be, be it cannot hurt... apart from making the spell a lot longer than intended. Well, it is still within the range of what is acceptable for a pendant.
I turn to the nearest apprentice make a shape with my fingers. “Prepare gems and crystals of about this size and apply this enchantment.” Maybe going straight to the final product without testing is not such a good idea. "I will only need a few prototypes to start with, but see if you can find about one hundred of such gems, we will probably need them soon.”
“Yes, sir! “
As I am about to leave for the adventurer's guild, I get an idea. “We will be making equipment for the knights. If you have ideas that might benefit them, write it down or make a prototype and I will have them evaluated along with my prototypes. “
I leave the magic department in a hurry, and a few minutes later, I am in front of the guild receptionist. “Greetings, is there anyone familiar with the labyrinth present at the moment?”
“A few, but whether they can help, will depend on your question.”
Make sense. “It is about the undead roaming the place: not only did they throw poisoned needles at us, but they also coordinated an attack and attempted to lure us into a trap!”
“Undead using ranged and poisoned weapons is not uncommon if it was something they did when they were still alive. I have also heard of undead soldier changing formation, or equipment to better suit the situation, but what you describe is not just reacting to the situation, it requires planning and strategic thinking.”
“I know, that is why I am here.”
“Sorry, sir. I have never heard of anything like that… and if someone did, I doubt they survived to tell the tale. I have someone in mind who could help you, but he is not one of ours. He’s a strange knight who often comes here to consult with adventurers about the undead. Since he appears to be really passionate about this stuff, I think he might be able to help you.”
“That sounds promising, and I have the feeling I have met him before. Thank you for your help and goodbye.”
Whether I met him or not makes no difference: I am almost incapable of differentiating among other species. Nevertheless, his quirk is weird enough that other people might be able to identify him from that alone.
I already have a good idea of what happened in the labyrinth, but it sounds a little crazy, I do not like where it goes. Let us see if someone else reaches the same conclusion I did. If I am right though, it would explain a lot about myself.
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Finding the guy was not as simple as I had hoped, but thankfully, his interest indeed turned out to be memorable enough. I thank my guide. “Thank you, Knight. I would have never found him without your help.”
“It was a pleasure, my lord. If you ever need help to find someone, please come to the station: it is our job to know everyone.”
I will remember the station, but I am afraid I already forgot my guide’s name and features. Numbers were good enough for us. Why do they feel the need to complicate things with meaningless random sequences of syllables?
Oh, I know very well why. It is just me acting up because things are not going my way: numbers are not a realistic option with so many people spread across such a vast territory.
I enter the barrack and ask. “Could I speak to knight…” What was his name again? Something about trees… no leaves. Yeah, leaves and season! “Autumn leaves?”
My vis-à-vis’ ears prick up nervously. “That would be me my lord but please, I beg of you, do not translate names, it sounds stupid. Some people might even take umbrage.”
“Is that so? Sorry, I know very little about elf culture. There is not much about it written down.”
“That’s perfectly natural, sir. The young hostages were quick to adapt to their new lives, and their children cared nothing for the past. How can I help you, my lord?
“I heard you are an expert on Undeath. I would like to discuss the matter with you.”
“Expert might be a tad too strong of a word, but it would be my pleasure to discuss the matter with you as an enthusiast. I always wanted to hear about your experience.”
“Wonderful, I have a few theories but I lack evidence and reliable sources. Before I expose them though, I would like you to tell me about your research.”
“Over the years, I have discovered a few inconsistencies that have led me to dispute the common vision of Undeath. I do not believe they are creatures solely defined by their hatred of the living.”
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“Oh? And what is your basis for this?”
“As a child, I lived in a small fortress city near the old southern frontier. It wasn’t anything big, and the garrison only had to deal with small-time bandits and jobless mercenaries. The place was ancient, and the commander’s mansion was famous for being haunted. The ghost was harmless though, it spent all of its time caring for an old ruined well.” The elf stutters a bit before explaining himself again. “Hum, when I say caring, I meant he was doing as he used to do in life, but what was left of the well was barely a hole in the ground at this point.”
“Interesting, I heard of ghosts but I have never encountered one.”
“There are a few theories about ghosts, some believe they are the results of strong personalities or feelings, while others believe them to be regretful spirits attempting to correct a wrong or accomplish their life work. There is even an uncommon theory stating they only happen when many unnatural deaths occur at the same time.”
“To which theory do you adhere?”
“All of them. In the case of wraiths, for example, they rarely attack people and then again only when... “
“If wraiths are what I think they are, they are probably a type of naturally occurring elemental.”
“Oh? That’s um...”
“That is just what I got from my readings. They might very well be undead for all I know.”
“Erm, their case wasn’t so important… The common belief in town was that in life, the ghost had been the well’s caretaker, but a mistake of his caused massive death. The real cause has been long lost to history, but the ‘why’ is not important: he got so obsessed by the well that not even death could stop him.”
“Did someone try to harm the well to see what happened?”
“Not that I know, but as I said, it was a ruin that had dried up hundreds of years ago. Whatever the case, one day, the ghost that had been peaceful for centuries suddenly became violent and had to be exorcised.”
“How come?”
“At the time, there had been some fierce battle not far from the fortress, and though the town and the people never suffered directly, I think it had an effect on the ghost.”
It seems to agree with my own theory. “This is only one single case, and it was already an exception, to begin with. Do you have anything else to corroborate your idea?”
“I do, there are bizarre cases of undead animals running away from predators or hunters, or the Dead fighting among themselves rather than banding against those who disturbed them.”
“That last one seems interesting. How did that happen? And was there anything peculiar about the undead?”
“It was an ancient battlefield where the empire, the kingdom, and the Queendom fought each other. The sources and potential victims were young clueless adventurers who thought there might be valuables left to collect.”
“This sounds convincing. Was it the only case, or were there others?”
“You know of the Soulless sometimes move in formation and use simple military tactics?”
“I heard of it, yes.” Very recently in fact.
“Well, this one happened in the empire, so I haven’t been able to confirm its veracity, but there is a story about many undead suddenly moving in organized troops and using simple spells. It is supposed to have occurred in an old fortress that was destroyed by the dragon, rebuilt and then destroyed again by raiders.”
Sound troublesome, I hope nothing like that happens in the labyrinth. “Any ideas why?”
“As I have said, I have no way to know for sure, but I suspect it’s because most of the dead were soldiers, including some commanders and mages. I do not know if they organized the others or influenced them in some way, but I lean towards the latter.” He thinks for a while, then concludes. “I also had a lot of stories with wraiths but…” He shakes his head dejectedly.
This is not a lot, but the last one sounds disturbingly similar to my labyrinth case. “It is my turn, then. Let me first recount how I was brought back into this world and then tell me what you think. I do not know how or why, but the place where I was reborn was devoid of life. From my point of view, nothing appeared to be out of place, until I got out in the open. The sensation of a myriad of life forms occupying all the surrounding space was so overwhelming that it nearly drove me to madness.”
“I can hardly picture it.”
“Think of a night sky so packed full of stars that there is no space for darkness. Now imagine, you are conscious of every single one of them, and that you cannot look away or close your eyes.”
The elf frowns and flattens his ears at my description.
“Next is something that happened when I got hurt for the first time: my mind shut and when I came back to myself, there were traces of destruction. During the time I was out, my body acted on its own to kill everything in sight, including some mere elementals.”
“Does it mean your body got a will of its own?”
“I would not go as far as to say it has a will of its own, but I definitely think it was under something’s influence. Do you remember the ‘voices’ I spoke of when I first removed my helmet?”
“Yes, I remember.”
I nod. Until now I was not sure if he was the same person. “There was a time when I killed an ancient wyvern: I swear I felt its will to survive as my own. I am certain it was not mine, first because I won, and second because it is very uncharacteristic for me and my species.”
“Uncharacteristic? What do you mean?”
I take some time to sort my ideas. “To put things even more in perspective: the foremost cause of death for my people was suicide, and the most common reason was boredom. This alone can tell you how little attachment to life we had.”
“Boredom?!”
“Another example would be the tidal wave that destroyed our civilization. It would not have been hard to move inland to avoid it, yet all of us chose to stay and die!”
“It is hard to imagine a race uninterested by its own survival. How did your species last for so long with this kind of mentality?”
Through tradition, selective breeding and single-mindedness: that is how!
“At any rate, I get what you mean.”
When I think about it, I feel disgusted at my former self and my people. “I think we survived out of misplaced pride, duty, and tradition. Like for me, getting killed by wyverns would have been a disgrace, but as I said earlier, I had won, and that is enough proof to say the feeling was not mine.”
“Can you tell me more about the voices? You could not say much last time.”
“I call them ‘voices’, but they range from articulate words to pure feeling. I hear most often when I am in the city, but I have also heard them in the labyrinth.”
“What are they saying?”
“That is the interesting part: the first time I heard them was near the city and they spoke of betrayal, heathen and monsters, gods and a lot of other things I had no knowledge of! Even now, I still do not understand everything they say.”
I think I have given him enough context to ask about the labyrinth. “I have one last thing to talk about, and then I would like to hear your conclusion… I have recently entered the labyrinth with my knights and although the first group of undead we encountered behaved like mindless insects, the second group laid in ambush and attempted to lure us in a trap.”
“It has long been theorized that the living Dead retain part of their ego and knowledge, but I think it goes a lot further than that: I think they share knowledge and influence each other!
“And what would have brought the change?”
“That would be you, sir.”
Extreme unpleasantness! It knew it, there was no other logical conclusion, but I still had a faint hope. “I think the same way, even if I would rather not: my presence helped them regain some rationality… but what are the ‘Voices’?”
“They could be any of those things: leftover thoughts, instinct, strong desires, pure wills, remnants of personality...”
“That reminds me, I can understand instinct taking over in the small animal case, after all, an undead goldfinch would be even weaker than a living one, but I cannot wrap my head over why the Undead were fighting each other.”
“Since this was an ancient battlefield, I suppose they were soldiers from opposite sides, and that acted on instinct to protect their brethren. It is also possible that the hatred they felt for their former enemies was stronger than the one they have for the living.”
“Seen that way, it makes a lot of sense. Considering it was a battlefield, it safe to assume the other side played a part in their deaths… I think my case was very lucky: a rare combination of low survival instinct, combined with an overall low-key attitude, and strangely strong pride probably protected me from the collective’s influence.
“I like this ‘collective’ term of yours, do you mind if I use it in my book?”
“Do as you wish; just remember you cannot cite me as a source. Well, overall, we still lack definite proof but it is a good working theory. Thank you for your help, knight.”
“I should be the one thanking you, my thesis progressed more in a single conversation than in decades of research!”
“Have a good day knight.”
He salutes. “My lord!”
Next, I have a report to give.