Magus Everandus 'Necro King' Cole.
***
“Honestly, I still can’t believe it. Your great-grandson is a monster.”
“Give it a rest, Kirk.” I groaned. “Why do you think I asked you to drop anchor way out here?”
“To get away from the guild officials and nobles?” Kirk jeered, rattling his jaw as he always did. “I’ve never known you to dismiss praise for your bloodline.”
I held my distant stare ahead while his words echoed in my mind. This place, Deap Ridge had changed many times since its inception. It had grown from a single spire of iron and igneous rock sprouted from the sea to an expanse that blotted out the rising sun. Like the lands themselves, the denizens of this island have changed over the centuries. The group of warriors in our guild became noble families. Those in theirs became esteemed and wealthy commoners. Their descendants grew to become prominent merchants, artisans, and politicians. Now, there was an Empire that was mighty in all the ways except the one that created it.
I took a swig of air and promptly held it in my stagnant lungs to gather my nostalgia and unease and exhaled them both in an exaggerated plume. Then turned my gaze to the minutely saturated royal dockyard on approach as I recounted what I’d felt and seen over the course of the last week. And then to Kirk’s robed, cloth-wrapped figure to spur the memories of the few instances in which I witnessed true power.
“It’s clear they’re the same.” I then muttered aloud.
The Captain of my little ship said nothing, at first. To Kirk, duty was and always would be his first priority. Like he’d done many times over the ages, he raised a putrescent hand at the deckhands below to pass off a laundry list of wordless orders before turning his mummified visage to me. Contrary to his appearance, however, Kirk’s voice was smoother than silk and was rounded out by an accent that no longer existed among the living; nevertheless, he preferred to use the link between us to communicate for both trivial and serious matters alike. Such as this case.
“Never would I have foreseen a human possessing such pure mana. I daresay his necro army will be far greater than yours.”
“That was a given from the start.” I despairingly chortled. “Now, however, his spells will be in a league of their own.”
“He’ll be seen as a living god.” Kirk sighed in admiration.
“Perhaps.” I shrugged. “Or, as disaster incarnate.”
---
After a few more words with Kirk, I went on ahead to the Summit to grow immediately annoyed by the uncountable bows and kneels gracing my presence. Adding to my frustration was the heated debates regarding the large lightning storm the other day. From commoners to the guild officials to the noble families themselves; all but a few individuals or groups made theory after theory regarding the identity of the caster. Serving as a small source of amusement, in this torturous environment. Though, even that was buried by the fact that I was obligated to be here in the flesh. Sitting by Jamettus’ side at the head of this great, elliptical table. Lingering and loitering while he made conversation with the many bigwigs of the Empire and beyond until I heard a solid thump come from the seat next to me.
Upon turning and seeing an all-too-familiar face, I couldn’t help but smile and spread my arms in a welcoming manner as I bellowed, “Grandmaster Vilignin!” as loud as possible. “What a surprise to see you here!”
Visibly vexed, the Amazonian gave me an odious side-eye before huffing. “Surprised!” Then canted her head to face me. “To see me. Here. At the assessment. Don’t kid yourself. Sir.” She begrudgingly added to the end.
“Everyone’s excited to see the new rotation of awakened, Sir.” One of her subordinates respectfully added as he seated himself beside her. “After the… incident.” He smirked after his pause. “I must say I am as well.”
“I am sure you are glad to hear my great-grandson has expressed interest in creating his own guild to fight in Ulai.” I guffawed. To which she turned back to me with glowing eyes before quickly subduing the beast inside her.
But I had seen it all.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Ever since he was a young boy, it was his only ambition.”
“Well.” The Grandmaster dismissively laughed in the face of my claim. “That right is reserved for the top students of his class.”
“Then there should be no problems.” I amiably smiled, spreading my hands in good faith. Then leaned forward in an admonitory manner. “Unless you underestimate him?”
“I underestimate no one.” She bluntly replied. “Nor do I overestimate anyone. Grand Duke Amun of Odissi will be thoroughly assessed just like everyone else.”
“Excepting the practical exam, of course,” Jamettus added. “In that case, what did you have in mind?”
“Oh?” I turned, suddenly intrigued. “Do tell.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“You see, Sir.” She whispered after a long pause. “We’re unsure if we have the capability to properly test some of the candidates. In that regard, I humbly ask that the great Necro King would assist us.”
“No.” I quickly spat. “And I’m not healing for you either.”
Though her eyes said much, Grandmaster Vilignin herself only nodded in reluctant silence. Eliciting a long, awkward moment for the other attendees.
“As far as I understand.” Jamettus resumed the dialog with a recollective sigh. “Amun and his vassals are far too familiar with the Necro Army. Using one of them in the practical exam would fail to yield the results you seek, Grandmaster. I, however, may be able to assist you in that regard.”
“It would be greatly appreciated, Sir.” She sternly bowed her neck a single degree. “And you can rest assured that the Guild is covered in the healing department.”
From there, the topics of discussion transitioned from the specifics to the generalities. As we’d done countless times before, we finalized the slew of administrative work needed for a ceremony of this scale to go smoothly. While I mostly watched and listened, a few of Vilignin’s subordinates took turns briefing each other and ourselves on the metrics of the assessment and how they differed from last year’s ceremony. In turn, Jamettus verified or sometimes even changed the locale of where and when each event would take place, where the spectators would be seated, and when the break periods would be.
Come sunrise, all that silly mess had been assorted and done with. So, while the candidates were mentally preparing themselves over breakfast, I was finally able to attend to the important matters. The moment the meeting was adjourned, I dropped into the Shadow Realm before anyone could call behind me and promptly swam up to the upper reaches of the castle to emerge in the sacred place that existed between us Magus’.
It was a crow’s nest. A lookout tower. An indiscriminate peak on the tallest spire around the Cast Iron Summit. A simple cross-shaped corridor with four balconies placed at the end of each short walkway. It was insignificantly small in size and indescribably vast in terms of sentimentality. In that sense, this place was larger than the Mortal Plane itself.
Though, it wouldn’t last nearly as long.
After a few moments, Jamettus rose from the lower levels and gently placed himself on the terrace. Then placed a hand on my shoulder as he stepped down from the railing. A simple act that formed a conduit that channeled his rhythmic and ragged heaving into my senses. Drowning out the smoldering heat radiating from his heart continuing its long and steady burn.
It took a lot to snuff out the images arising from such a feeling. Though, much to my dismay, those feelings were replaced with more memories. Memories from far-off lands and ancient times.
“I envy you sometimes, old friend.” Jamettus sighed and held me out at arm's length. “Even for the evolved- or at least for those like us, time is unyielding. Except for you.”
“Bah!” I casually waved such comments aside and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I was an old man long before I died, Jamettus. You were there, after all.” I chuckled.
“That I was.” He released his grip with a sigh and stepped over to gaze upon the blue-green sheen illuminating the western horizon. Wherein he lightheartedly shook his head, almost in disbelief. “Do you remember the first time we stood here?”
“How could I forget!?” I bellowed. “I’ve only seen you so proud so many times! I knew not if you were crazy or serious at the time! Who uses an iron pillar as a fort?”
“Yet you tried to remain as sly and indifferent as always.” He snickered, attempting to mock me. “A forward base is fine. But, is it not too conspicuous? Why make it so tall?' You asked.” Jamettus rolled back in hearty laughter.
As did I, naturally. “So that it can withstand the test of time, you declared.”
We spent the next few minutes; or hour, laughing and reminiscing over the centuries-long friendship Jamettus and I have shared until the conversations naturally died down to a companionable silence. Though, deep down inside it pained me to see his body in slow decline. A part of me wanted to offer to him the same contingency I’d offered to the countless others who’d fallen by our sides. Such a process would save my dear friend from a slow, natural decline. But as his friend- as his brother, I could not strip him of the rest he surely deserved.
Not that he would have accepted the offer anyway.
And so, I silently stood beside him as he gazed upon the blue-tainted night until he decided to speak.
“This world of ours is changing, old friend.” He stated in an ominously serious tone. “These lands- these people, are not eternal constructs like death and darkness. They are like iron volcanoes, Ev. They erupt. They rust. They erode. On a regular basis, people and society change.”
I simply nodded and stayed silent. Though I agreed with everything that was said, I held my tongue and waited for my friend to continue. He seemed to shed the robes and crown and greatness that made him an Emperor as the breath of a heavy sigh was spent. Leaving before me, a sight I bore witness to many times as a young boy: A husk of withering life.
Though, this husk was far different than any other. Jamettus Deapou was my first, oldest, and best friend. A legendary warrior who has faced the worst the Mortal Plane had to offer and emerged victorious each and every time. As such, my life was his; his was mine.
“I am sure you are aware.” He distantly whispered. “The strong ones we bore witness to have died out from the times. Humanity has become weak while the invaders we share this realm with grow stronger by the day.” He sneered, huffing hot, mana-infused air from his nostrils. “I am sure you feel it.” He turned to me.
“Mhmm.” I grimly nodded as I felt around for the abundant energy. Slowly. Surely. Something was rising in the worlds below. Just like before.
“The paradigm is due to shift, Ev.” Jamettus faced me with a stern, resolute gaze. “I fear Maru may not survive this round.”
“There may be a saving grace.” I finally said. Causing Jamettus to inquisitively turn.
“Amun.” He neutrally stated, yet his tone was belied by the scrutinizing heat of his eyes. “It is admirable that your great-grandson has noble intentions. And he is indeed powerful. But.” He sighed. “Are you sure you are not placing too much faith in him on account of him sharing your blood?”
“Not at all.” I amiably shook my head. “On the contrary, I am but one of two beings who are aware of his true nature. I can see his soul, Jamettus. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew the extent of his power. But if my word is not enough, test him. Thoroughly. I will give you as many souls as you need.”
“Are you not afraid he will break?” Jamettus guffawed in his teasing manner.
“Well.” I shrugged. “You will find out soon enough. Besides.” I waved the topic aside. With the bounty the association brought in, everyone is expected to be broken. Though I cannot say I agree with their measures.”
“Right, you are then.” Jamettus chuckled. “I will extensively test Amun’s abilities to see if he is capable of what you claim. Naturally, however.” He devilishly grinned. “Each of the others will have to be similarly tested.”