Almost everyone important from the undead force would be gathered tonight in the castle of the craggy peaks, Gared had made sure of that. The higher-ups from each of the nine alcoves, their nine, ruling arch-necromancers, his personal disciples, and his generals. They were over two hundred people soon to fill the large ballroom, which had been dusted and cleaned for the occasion.
"Report." The old necromancer said from his throne, his three generals beside him. The four were alone – like he preferred when he sought to discuss delicate matters.
"Seven of your arch-necromancers are here, milord," Ezra told his master. "Loren is busy overseeing the production of the earthworm-chimeras but should arrive soon. Zed is still missing, his whereabout unknown."
"My disciples?"
"All but Talia, milord. Crayford came back with Erafros from the Aldruan forest yesterday and must return tomorrow after the cermony. Semian and Elea showed up a couple of hours ago, and the rest have been here since before the summons went out."
"I see. Good work." Gared twirled the thin band of copper around one bony finger, the only ornament he ever carried, and said. "And what about our other preparations?"
Ezra bowed, which made the dark lord of the craggy peaks smile. "Oh my Ezra, you never disappoint." he touched his servant on the shoulder, which made the vampire beam in delight. "Continue to hold me informed. And tell Semian from me to wear something nice for once, will you?"
The vampire bowed and stepped back, allowing Gared to sit and stew in his thoughts. The aged necromancer smiled to himself, his heart rate perhaps a little bit quicker than usual. He was looking forward to tonight's exciting proceedings.
----------------------------------------
Prometheus had arrived at the castle of craggy peaks three days ago and yet again been put in a room like a dog. He did not like this at all, but Ezra explained that it was needed and that three days later, he would be grandly welcomed and introduced to his new master, the dark lord of the craggy peaks, Gared the Abominable.
Today was that day.
He stood in front of the mirror, taking in his reflection. A golden-cornered gilded frame encased him, and he was adorned with a suit of steel armor, reminiscent of the one Ezra had worn when they first met. He stared down at his hands, his long nails jutting out in sharp points that made it difficult to find gloves. Frankly, he didn't much care for it. It was better to look menacing and scary, rather than meek and civilized.
A knock on the door caught his attention. Prometheus took one more look at himself in the mirror, then opened the door and left with Ezra who had come to fetch him. The vampire wore a a similar suit of steel, and gestured for him to follow.
The walk through the castle seemed to take forever. Every few steps, they were met with servants and necromancers who would shy away from them, eyes downcast or muttering a greeting or apology for getting in their way. Each time this happened, Ezra’s lips would curl into that dazzling, devilish smile of his – which usually only happened when he saw violence or caused it himself.
Finally, they arrived at two large doors, where two imposing guards stood watch. Ezra signaled them, and they began pushing open the doors.
Prometheus stepped inside the room and was immediately taken aback by the sheer diversity of people present, a sea of people unfurling before him. Women were adorned with elegant black silk while men wore black tunics and hoods. The same ashy type of creatures Talia had attacked him with lurked behind each necromancer, their difference all but in color.
There was even an older man seated atop a gigantic beast – the lionbeast's gleaming coat shimmered under the light as Prometheus noticed small metallic objects embedded within its body, eagle wings lying gently to its side, and a thick tail — corded with muscle — nuzzled against its behind.
Unfortunately, he could not make out what the metallic objects were or what purpose they served.
The crowd of necromancers, undead abominations, and other things too twisted for Prometheus to decipher split apart as he and Ezra ventured onwards until they arrived, unimpeded, at a pair of stairs that led up to a higher elevated section. Prometheus looked up and instantly knew who the man on the makeshift throne was.
The dark lord of the craggy peaks, Gared the Abominable, was possibly the oldest thing Prometheus had ever seen. He wore a luxurious robe of silk over his thin, gangly body. His beard was white as snow, and his hair was completely gone save for a few wisps of white flitting across a discolored scalp. Deep and numerous wrinkles covered his skin, and there was not a place on his face where he was not spotted with dark patches, warts, or decay.
The only sign of life Prometheus could detect was the man's eyes. Though the area around them was hollow and sunken, the eyes were alive and alert as they stared at him. He knew as sure as anything that this man was very intelligent and very much aware, contrary to his appearance.
Then and there, as he ascended the steps and bowed in front of the dark lord of the craggy peaks, he promised to never underestimate this old man.
----------------------------------------
Gared stared at the sentient raising he had been thinking about for a whole week. It was a black creature that looked like a ghoul but more humanoid in its appearance. It was truly unique, with its own sort of crown; a garland of blackened thorns. The dark lord of the craggy peaks smiled as his soon-to-be general bowed on one knee, its towering height and massive frame prostrated before him.
He spoke then, as was his responsibility as king and leader of the future undead empire, that would stretch from land to sea, and sea to land, encompassing all the world had to offer and even beyond that.
"We are here today to celebrate the coming of a new general for our ravenous legion," he said, loud and clear for all in the ballroom to hear. "A Hundred years ago, I summoned Caine through the path, our greatest spear and shield. This time, she has blessed us with outstanding juniors and disciples, for one of them bringing me forth this gift." He swept his arms grandly to each side. "I will now proceed with the ritual of bonding – so that we may all partake in the festivities afterward. Long live the undeath!"
The crowd surged. "Long live the undeath!"
----------------------------------------
The ancient dark lord of the craggy peaks raised a feeble arm, his palm beginning to shine darkly, and a formless pressure, which Prometheus had started to associate with the use of mana, emanated from the man. It was far, far superior to the pressure Talia radiated, much stronger than the black ghoul thought possible. It was as if he stood before the sun itself.
As soon as it began, it was over, and the aged man sagged visibly in the makeshift throne, his eyes closed and breath ragged.
The black ghoul was about to turn to Ezra for guidance when a sudden shuffle of feet halted him and caught his attention. The crowd gasped as three aged figures released their aura – the external manifestation of mana – and released the spell they were holding. With a flick of their wrist, they released a tremendous orb of blackness that shot toward the dark lord of the craggy peaks.
But just as the energy was about to strike its target, the wizard's eyes snapped open. He crushed something in his hand, and a dome of ethereal light enveloped him. It was covered in indiscernible runes and letters.
The orb and the dome collided, and for a moment, the room was bathed in blinding white light. When the light faded, the dark lord of the craggy peaks sat unharmed with a grin spread from ear to ear, seemingly much more alive than before.
Down below, the three aged men stood mutely, anger and shock written across their faces. The crowd had made space for them, and they stood alone like a lone island.
Gared the Abominable cackled from his throne. "You should have known better than to assassinate me with magic, old friends." he waged an old finger. "But thank you for giving me all that I need to dispose of you once and for all. Ezra, they are all yours."
From beside Prometheus, the vampire's body shook with suppressed excitement. With a cry of delight, he charged the old men, a brilliant smile on his face as he tore them limb from limb. They screamed and tried to resist – but the sheer speed, strength, and brutality could not be stopped. Blood bathed the ballroom as Ezra pulled arms from shoulders, organs from cavities, and tongues from mouths. His gleeful expression only darkened when he popped out eyeballs like they were grapes and helped himself to the overflowing fluid.
When the slaughter ended, the vampire walked back to where he had come from, and once again prostrated himself before his master.
----------------------------------------
Gared's face lit up with glee as he saw Ezra rip through the slithering serpents he'd wanted to destroy for decades. But to remove necromancers of such power and influence, or have one killed for nothing, would not have gone well with the others. Instead, he'd waited. He suspected they would try their luck today, and had been right, his patience paying off once again.
It was a currency he never seemed to deplete.
He spotted Salazar – on his winged chimera in the crowd – and inclined his head. The dome had been his invention and idea, and Gared was ever thankful for his loyal necromancer and scientist.
As the carnage and the dust began to settle, the dark lord of the craggy peaks looked down upon his bloody general and the black ghoul before him. He stared hard into the black ghoul's eyes as he gave his first command. "Kill yourself. Now."
As expected, the black ghoul stood motionless for a second, before raising its arm, preparing to end its own life with a clawed hand, not an ounce of hesitation in his eyes nor bearing. Ezra stopped it before the hand reach the creature's chest.
Gared sat back in his chair, his mood brighter than it had been for years, a satisfied smirk on his lips. He had rooted out powerful traitors and received a new general that would never betray him
It seemed his life only got better and better the older he got.