Four horses pulled a dark carriage through the snowy countryside. Magus gazed out of the window as still a statue, watching the far horizon and its tree line. Once they got out of a certain large forest the land of the Duke with its unending plains began.

The roads, which peasants seemed to look after, were cleared out and even paved in stone. This, surprising in its own, wasn’t the only incredible thing though, because large, about twice the size of an average human, and incredibly wooly creatures grazed in the white fields. People cared for them, thus it didn’t seem to be a monster.

Ten days ago they set out on this journey, barely stopping for Iphis to deal with her mortal needs. Just a few days ago they even sent a forward message, as a proof of good will. Why that was the case Iphis couldn’t even fathom. Magus didn’t even bring his ‘army’ and only took two armed guards with him. It was so unordinary and out of character for the murderous undead she silently expected for him to be bluffing and actually attack the humans the moment they met.

It didn’t happen. In fact, on the way they met many humans like villagers and hunters. Not one did he try to harm, and even spoke with more than few. They proved useful when navigating the world, as following some old scribbles was harder than it seemed.

Thus she spent the days bored out of her mind, even her little slave was gone, being sent out with the message as he was the only human capable of it. She once more was left in the hands of the undead, although as of late he became slightly more lenient on her, allowing her a bit more freedom.

“You could’ve just left me.” She spoke, trying to readjust herself on the seat. It’s been a long time since she had so much empty space in there.

“No, I couldn’t. You have some more work ahead of you.”

This was news to her, as no information of his plans ever reached her. “What work?”

“Humans are fickle beings and being dumb is their second nature. Have you read their laws?”

“What, is that my task?”

“No. You’ll become the duke’s heir.”

This rocked her off the seat. He said it so calmly like it was already set in stone. “How am I supposed to do that?!”

“It’s quite easy actually. All you need to do is make the duke send a certain letter to the king.”

That was true. If it was in the Duke’s will then not even the King could oppose. But even then…

“Doesn’t he have a son? Not even the Duke can appoint me, a woman, as his heir when the son is still kicking about.”

“I’ll deal with him, don’t worry.”

So there will be bloodshed. Sighing, she lied back in her seat and watched him again. The unmoving frame was a sort of amusement for her in this cramped solitary, equivalent to counting of trees or watching birds fly by.

She slowly dozed off.

***

Riding on the tough stone road, the enormous city came into view. Froset, as it was called, was surrounded by a 10-meter-high stone wall, almost as impressive as the one in Bargor, albeit with a few less towers. Guards walked about on the battlements, most equipped with gambesons and chain mails. Long halberds were their main weapons, but from time to time a few also carried bows. Beyond the stone wall peeked out the keep of the Duke.

The carriage approached the gate where a group of guards already waited. Giving signal to Iphis, whom dressed as luxuriously as the deceased governor’s private collection allowed, Magus put his mask on and threw on a dark coat, covering his vivid robe.

“Do as I’ve told.”

Sending an order through the link between undead, the horses stalled. They were covered in a black cloth, as he found out that some humans can actually tell the difference between a fresh corpse and a living one.

The guards stirred and after rearranging themselves approached. A slightly more impressive guard, one with a plate suit, led the front, accompanied by Rene, who looked like a complete mess. Mud and dirt seemingly bleached into his face, while the hair was so oily it looked like an unappetizing dish. Perhaps ordering to ‘get this message through as fast as possible’ was at fault, but Magus waved it all aside. All that mattered was that mostly everything went according to his calculations.

Before Rene could reach for the door, Magus opened it, establishing his ‘serving’ role in the act. Jumping out, he stole a glance at the men. They were middle-aged, rough-looking and exhausted. A typical human soldier. Deep dark shadows lingered under their eyes, proving their night shift was likely extended due to the sudden message.

“Miss,” he extended his hand to Iphis. As usual the voice was dry and horrific, but there was nothing he could do about it.

After a slight pause she took it with both hands, seemingly caressing the leather glove with her own higher quality pair of black silk, and smirked from inside the carriage. Curtain’s up.

In an instant her face turned as still as the ocean, creating this weird atmosphere of competence, and her mannerisms changed, turning more lady-like, bordering hidden seductiveness of a craved after beauty. With frail wariness she climbed out, only giving a kind nod to the men charmed by her beauty. A beaming smile appeared on her youthful face.

“Miss Margareth,” the leader of the guards bowed. “I hope the trip wasn’t too exhausting. I am Maeloc Pasco.”

“Thank you for the consideration, Sir Pasco.” She bowed as well. “My fath-” “The Lord is waiting,” he cut her off, glancing at the surroundings. “He’s eager to meet you.”

“Then let us go. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

The man nodded and led the way once more. Rene, as fitting for a puppy, walked closely behind his mistress, while Magus stood even further back, examining the surroundings.

The massive gateway stood wide open as its portcullis peeked out of the top like some icicle. Stone, perhaps century old, stood firmly, molded together in desperation and will to survive, leaving gaps only meant for projectiles to be hurled during a siege. Everything was old, something Magus already knew about. Humans liked spilling their secrets after all, compiling them into large books and not even thinking that an enemy of theirs, like an undead, could use them.

Entering through the gate they were welcomed by the narrow view of the city’s street. Most of the buildings here were wooden, except the rare few belonging to craftsmen or maybe the militia. All of them followed the same type of style, the ground floor being partially stone and slightly widening from the first floor up.

Some of them even reached as high as 4 floors, while others as little as one, all the while being compact and packed into such tightness anyone could feel the confining sensation just by walking into one of the dark alleys between them. Perhaps one could even physically experience the choking sensation from some crude rabble preying inside those shadows for an easy victim.

Crows cried loudly from atop the roof tiles and chimneys, drawing attention to the lack of people. It was the middle of the day, thus it felt unusual for humans to not be out and about, going on their usual rhythmic routines.

The clay crockery was left out in the open, meat hung stinking up the place, while cheese caught eyes with its whiteness. No one bothered manning these makeshift stalls that littered the wide street, robbing it of precious space.

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People were hiding.

Magus could feel their living presences. There was many of them, so many in fact, he felt like his skull might burst from it all. But one didn’t have to be an undead to notice it, as the stares coming through the tight gaps of the crooked window shutters were as plain as day. They were being watched.

Why did people hide? Why were the animals so loud and inside the city? Why were the streets clean of snow and where did all the waste go? How many living stayed here? He chose to keep quiet this time, albeit curiosity was piling up at the ever increasing rate.

Reaching a certain intersection, they turned to the left, away from the massive castle atop the hill. Magus couldn’t help but glance at it, mesmerized by the impressive dullness of the building rising over the second layer of walls. How could anyone in their right mind build that and call it an architectural wonder? Perhaps the fools had gotten to his books before him, because what he saw was a tumor, rising to the sky, overlooking the cattle beneath.

“Where are we going?” Even if he was curious it was still unusual for them to go anywhere else but the keep. Didn’t the rulers of humans prefer staying in uplifted, secure spots? “The castle is that way. Wait, don’t tell me.” He gasped dramatically. “You are blind?!”

Iphis giggled, saving the mood somewhat, as if letting them know what Magus said was a joke.

“N, No. The Lord will meet you there.” The guard pointed to the dark alley.

Was this a joke? Magus wasn’t sure. Apparently smiling helped when socializing, but since he couldn’t really do that he chose to laugh. Unfortunately, it sounded like the chafing of wood and alarmed the men instead.

“Miss, let’s go.” He pointed uphill and pulled her on the arm. “To the castle.”

His calculations did not include going into an alley. That was surely a trap. The lack of people outside proved that.

“Stop!” Shouted Maeloc, pulling his sword out. “Do not move!” His men quickly followed in his steps and pointed their halberds towards Magus and his group.

“What is going on?!” Iphis continued the act of surprise, her hand coiling around a dagger behind her back. Rene jumped to her side and also drew his sword.

“Do not move!” Repeated Maeloc as his men scrambled around trying to surround them.

“I see,” the undead spoke, raising a crooked dagger. “so your ‘Lord’ decided to use some of his brain capacity and chose to deal with us as soon as possible.” A spark went off in the gloved palm as it gleamed with intensity, forming into a ball of fire. “How unfair for a father to do this!” He raised his voice, hoping for as many of the living to hear it, figuring he might as well sow some animosity among them.

“A mage!” One of the guards shouted, reacting quicker than others, and lunged forth.

All Magus had to do was snap his fingers, not even that truth be told, and, with the non-existent grin on his face, he did. The magic boomed and roared for that split second before going off with all its power. The street flashed and the man’s mail melted, turning him into a living torch as he fell before even reaching his target, screaming and thrashing around on the stone.

“Just like a roasted maggot.” The inhuman voice amplified in a laugh as he fell back, sending the signal for his two guards to get here. They, annoyingly, still remained at the carriage.

It’d seem the humans began prioritizing him now as only one went after Iphis, five choosing death. Another fireball formed in Magus’ hand as that one guard reached her.

He jumped forth, lunging like the previous idiot, except there was no magic to stop him, only that little slave of hers. With a practiced stance he parried the halberd, forcing it to slide to the side, away from them, but the human didn’t stop his motion, seeing that his opponent, Rene, was not armored at all, and bashed with the handle.

A solid hit rang out and blood creeped out of Rene’s head, but he did not waver. Instead, he turned almost as red as the liquid coming out of him. “DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!” He screamed, popping veins and voice chords, and tackled the armored guard, bringing him down on the ground.

Magus didn’t have the luxury of watching, sadly, as the rest of the mob were eager to avenge the charred corpse. Annoyingly, they split up, leaving large gaps in between, not giving chance for the undead to kill two rabbits with one stone. Giving a quick scan he chose their leader, the one called Maeloc Whatever. With but a thought the fiery ball flew out.

The man in turn raised his sword, face filled with desperation, and tried to actually parry it. A true fool… or so Magus thought, before some weird engravings shone with intense light on the steel.

“[Wave of Frost]” He incanted, and, as soon as the blade touched fire, an explosion went off, creating a large cloud of white. The others also stopped, confused at what happened to their leader.

“Ah,” he saw the body fly back, snapping fences, and smash into one of the sheds. “A bullseye…?” He laughed, slicing one of the unsuspecting guard’s neck open.

Three left… He glanced at Iphis. Their attacker was gurgling and spitting blood. A dagger was stuck in his throat as life quickly left him.

“Go on, send your dog already.” Motioned the undead with the bony hand. “Ah, the glove burned off…”

“What?! A skeleton?!” One of the guards finally noticed, alerting and confusing the others. With a push from Iphis, Rene took this chance to attack them.

It’d seem he was more useful than previously thought. The way he swung the blade was efficient and deadly, almost as if the steel turned into a snake, slithering and crawling through space, prying at all the weaknesses it could. Sadly, the opponents were armored against such weapons. All he could do was thrust, hoping to pierce mail and gambeson.

“Here, I’ll help you out.”

Another fireball flew, this time slightly weaker as the previous attack was an overkill. It easily hit the unlucky man, charring mail and body alike. The gambeson underneath only fueled the fire on the already dead body, turning it into a twisted human-fueled campfire that sometimes moved or let out wet sounds.

Now it was two on two, if you counted Rene who only served to buy time.

One more fireball sparked to existence as Magus felt the two undead guards reach the intersection. “Finally,” it quaked and span as magic overflowed, turning it white with eagerness to burn flesh. “Kill that one.” He ordered the guards and the fireball flew out. Reaching higher speed than usual it hit one of the two soldiers, disintegrating his arm and shoulder, going straight through, and then continuing on to smash into one of the wooden buildings, resulting in a violent explosion. Doors, windows, walls, even the roof popped off in response, sending wood everywhere and scattering fire throughout the city block.

“Oops,” his hand numbed, spreading from bone to bone, down his leg. “I’ve gone overboard this time…”

Like ants, people ran out, no longer caring to watch and hide. Buckets, bowls, cups… They grabbed anything that was on their hands and legged it for the well. Scooping as much water as possible they rushed to put the fires out, starting with their own properties and moving on to the neighbors’. Some even threw their drink away in hope of lessening the ferocity of the flames.

During the chaos the last guard also bit the dust, falling down with a wet squish. A zombie guard wielded the magical axe and cut deep, up to the spine, into the man.

Seeing that the fight was over, Magus sat down on the stone and ordered the guard to protect him. He sent the other one into the shed to bring the leading human, who was still kicking about for some reason.

Iphis pulled the bloodied dagger out of the neck of the guard and wiped it against his pants, then sheathed it under her frilly dress, staring at the blazing fire, taking in the havoc surrounding her.

Dark smoke rose, getting thicker with each second as the fire spread from building to building, completely out of control, ignoring the desperate attempts of the populace. Even some of the guards left their duties to prevent it from extending any further. As if oblivious to it all, Magus sat on the ground, rubbing his legs in wonder.

Did overusing magic cause this? He never experienced such a sensation, but then again he never gone out of his way to use magic before. This was something he’ll definitely have to look into.

“Iphis, don’t just stand there.” The sudden monstrous voice brought her to reality. “Fetch me a glove.”

Ushered by him, she stripped a glove from a nearby, non-burnt, body and passed it to him. “Here.” It was stained and different color then the other. “What’s up with you?”

“Not sure.” He slipped it on, feeling the extra space inside. No one made them for fleshless hands after all. “Legs got numb.”

“Hmm.” She crossed her arms, unconsciously lifting up the ample bosom and exposing its large crevice. “I think it’s called mana sickness.”

A sickness? For an undead? She must’ve had her facts wrong. Or maybe the foolish humans reached the wrong conclusion. Either way there was no time to contemplate as the human called Maeloc was ‘coming’ here.

The undead guard dragged him by the legs like some corpse, but the man was very much alive. He screamed and cried, clutching onto his face with the left arm, the other one was mangled, dragging along the ground.

“Shit! Fuck!”

Half his face looked like a molten candle, fusing like some kind of tar in places it shouldn’t, such as the eyes. The skin wasn’t charred but burnt nonetheless as large blisters started forming on it, some releasing weird liquid.

“Your face melted.” Said Magus matter-of-factly and slowly stood up. The numbness subsided quite quickly it’d seem. “Just so we’re clear it was your fault. Though feel free to blame your master.”

He spat, although failed even that as it caught onto his malformed lips. “Fuck you.”

“You’re dribbling like some infant. Also, I’m not interested in procreating with you.”

“The fuck is wrong with him?” Maeloc asked Iphis, whom stayed quiet and didn’t respond, focusing on treating Rene who got a bit thrashed during the fight. The cut on his forehead seemed to be quite deep, judging from the intense flow which was close to covering his whole face.

“Well then, will you play nicely?” He kicked a charred chunk. “As you can see, just a few moments ago, this was your friend. If you don’t want to follow in his footsteps let’s go to the Duke and I- my Miss, might forgive you this incident.”

“Shit…”