Ignis prepared everything for the exorcism. He noted in passing that none of his suspicious attackers’ spirit had dwelled on this side, but he hadn’t expected them too; professional soldier and their ilk usually made peace with death.

This time he exorcised the sprits in the gentlest way possible, gently guiding them to accept their demise rather than forcefully cutting their bond with this word. From his point of view, it wasn’t their fault they’d been stuck in this plane of existence, so they shouldn’t suffer for it.

He wanted to deal with the curses since his own had mixed with the already existing ones to form something much more terrible, but he had no way to know if there were more of the mysterious group somewhere. If the spirits hadn’t made him their new haunt, he’d have skipped on that too.

Most of the corpses and their possession were charred beyond recognition, but thankfully, the one whose legs he had destroyed hadn’t taken as much of beating. The talisman that had given him was an unremarkable tube of silver. Whoever they were, they’d gone the long way to make sure they didn’t carry anything betraying their origin.

Wards and talismans work in three different ways known as blocking, shifting and containment. For example, his bag blocks the heat – up to a degree – while his puppets trick the curse into striking a container rather than their intended target. Noble metals like silver are naturally good for this purpose, but given preparation or affinity, anything can do, as in the current case, the hexed ground of a cursed village.

‘It’s no wonder my curses stayed on the grounds: the whole place has become a container for who knows how many curses.’ And he had used some very nasty one. Before his arrival, the placed had been unfit for a prolonged stay, now it was evolving into something akin to the deadliest poisons.

Ignis was unsure, he feared what would happen of this place if he leaved, but not as much as the mysterious group; his victory this time had more to do with luck than talent and with the look of the place, the next group would immediately know of the first’s demise.

He recovered his tools, put then in the bag, and ran to his horse. He’d ask his contact to warn the lord and request reinforcement from him or the church. This was the only way as he’d never accomplish anything if stayed there constantly looking over his shoulder in fear.

The beast was still where he’d left it, an old abandoned field about a kilometer from the village. As the mage approached his mount, it kicked and trashed violently trying desperately to free itself from its bond. The horse just a normal mount belonging to a local church, it couldn’t withstand the strong smell of death emanating from its rider.

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Ignis didn’t have time to deal with the beast tantrum though, he recovered another temporary familiar from its bag and ordered it to possess the animal. The necromancer had no permanent attendant spirit as he’d never found one he could trust.

He released the bound and the horse walked a few steps gauchely. The mage cussed and took over the spirit, showing it how to control only the higher functions while leaving the rest to the host.

Five hours later he was back in the regional capital of Dacia: Eredys. Lighted by the flame of a fire mage, the church had a different sense of beauty compared to the one in Oto. As he entered the diminutive cathedral, a priest came to meet him despite the early hour. “Sir Ignis, I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Did something happen?” He wasn’t his contact, but visibly knew about him.

“You can say that,” Answered the miffed mage. “I got attacked by a large band of armed men who had made residence in the ruins.”

“I’m sorry sir, I assure you they weren’t there when we last surveyed the place a three days ago.”

“You didn’t find traces of anyone living there?”

“No sir, the patrol days the houses were in the same state as during their previous visit.”

Ignis had been under the impression they’d made the place their base of operation, but it was night and he didn’t have time to look around… and now there wasn’t anything left to search. “Either they settled there in the last two days, or they have a base somewhere and were using this place for something.”

“It’s unlikely sir, people avoid the places but the lord and the church watch these kinds of places on a regular basis just to make sure it doesn’t develop into something worse.”

“If you guys have that kind of time, couldn’t you have done something about them earlier?”

“We… do not have many people with your abilities here, and the few we have cannot perform such large-scale exorcism.”

Because of the prejudices, most death mages never get the chance to learn how to use their powers, and those who do are usually self-taught. What’s more, fear often pushes these people to work in the shadow or resort to crime, perpetuating the shady image.

Truthfully, apart from a few backward regions, people with the death element are highly sought after by authorities as they are the most capable of dealing with curses and evil spirits.

“Ask the lord if he can furnish me with an escort.” said Ignis with a pained voice. The current lord wasn’t the one responsible for the brutal repression – this one had been received his just retribution – but someone along the line of a cousin or nephew. Even so, it was hard on the mage to deal with that man’s family.

He took the talisman out from his pocket and handed it to the priest. “Send this to the main church, that’s the only thing of interest I could find on the corpses.”

“It’ll be done, sir.”

“Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’ll be getting some sleep in the meantime; I’m still sore from all that riding.”

“I’ll have a coach prepared for you, sir.”

“That’d be most kind.”