Anastacia was finally starting to see something after stupidly staring directly at the blinding flash of light that had been aimed at her. She had already heard someone speak strangely but with an eerily familiar voice, and felt two new necromancers by her side – both of them remarkably strong to say the least. She rubbed her eyes and tried to get a better look at two people who had just appeared out of thin air.

The first one, and most definitely the louder one, had turned her attention to Leggy, who was still battling internally against the corruption she had suffered while defending Anastacia. She had a skirt haphazardly made from scraps of leather, some kind of straws, large leaves, discarded small items like keys and spoons as well as pieces of simulacra armor – all tied together with various bits of thread and wire. She also had similar items strapped onto her arms but no actual clothes to cover herself. Her helmet had some obvious similarities to the one Anastacia used as a crown, but one of the antlers had been replaced with a roughly similar tree branch. From both the antler and the branch, dangled various small items, in the typical goblin fashion. Her moderately tanned skin was covered in tattoos that replicated the light patterns on simulacra and the tips of her fingers were severely charred, which didn’t seem to bother her. However, the weirdest thing about the necromancer was her face, because as soon as Anastacia got a good look at it, she recognized it as her own.

“Thine bravery has left thee with a vexation quite severe.” The copycat nodded and intensely stared at Leggy.

“Get your hands off my housecarl!” Yelled Anastacia and stumbled back up on her feet, ready to rid her simulacrum of whoever it was that had stolen her visage. “Who are you?!”

The copycat held up a finger, asking for a moment of silence while laying her other hand on Leggy’s chest. Suddenly the tattoos in her arm lit up bright blue as they linked with the simulacrum’s body. For a few moments, seemingly exerting a lot of effort but with a mad grin on her face, the copycat forcibly dragged the corruption from Leggy’s body into her own hand, where the light patterns started to alternate between blue and violet. Finally pulling her hand away, she watched as the immensely more powerful blue light pushed the vile violet into her closed fist. She squeezed it tight for a couple of seconds before opening her hand and revealing what seemed like a dark violet marble. The corrupting power Eminence spread in his wake swirled inside it, no doubt making it a dangerous and powerful item any research-inclined party would covet, but it barely held the copycat’s attention for a brief moment before she carelessly tossed it over her shoulder and forgot about it altogether.

Anastacia would have shoved her away, but the copycat gracefully stepped out of her reach and let the adventurer check on her housecarl, who seemed to be in good spirits and health now, if not a bit shaken.

“Who are you?” Anastacia snarled without letting go of Leggy.

“Might I allow thee to decide such a trifling matter? For we art woefully nameless for the time being, both she and I.” The copycat grinned and pointed at the other necromancer, who had been ignoring them and kept staring into the direction Eminence had been launched in.

Anastacia rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. On further thought, Erratic Judgement had obviously conjured the pair to help her and Leggy, but even best-laid plans weren’t all that Anastacia-proof, so there was no telling what sort of catastrophe The Great Commander had unearthed. “Okay… What are you?” She asked again.

“We art thee, yet decidedly not. Fractions of thine self whom remain unexercised. Beauty and grace, I represent potential untapped, what thou could achieve without further guidance, should an attempt be made. The extremities of thine might, but not what has already been realized.” The other Anastacia responded with an ever-widening grin. While talking she snapped off a small twig from the branch on her headdress and dropped it on the ground. Within seconds, a thick mess of branches grew from the liquid at their feet, forming the rough shape of a seat with a single armrest, into which the copycat placed herself with much elegance. “So… Who might I be?”

“Wait, why can you just grow trees? Or just suck out the fuckery this Eminence guy is spreading? If you’re just supposed to be a better me or whatever, why can’t I do any of that?” Anastacia inquired and started to dig her pockets for any kind of sticks or twigs.

“Certainly, I am unquestionably a superior incarnation of thee, but to elucidate it more plainly, I am only what thee art not nor have never been. An exemplar of thine own superiority compared to that of mine could be ice magic. Because thou have next to naught to learn without outside furtherance, in necromancy, thee outclass myself somewhat as well. But arts arcane and otherwise, the ones witnessed by thee at one point or another, I know what thou have yet to understand, but could nonetheless. Yet, to be clear, I am thou, yet better.” The other necromancer explained and started to eat an apple that had grown on a small branch on her seat. “In the name of fairness, I will disclose the source of my control over flora. Thee, and by extension me, art encrusted in a healthy veil of spriggan pollen – enough for flowers and trees to heed our word much the same as the rest of our royal subjects, if we take the time to speak in their language.”

“That’s… a bit gross if I’m being honest. But we really have some more pressing concerns than spending time on figuring out what to call you, so I’m just going to call you Applestacia or Apple.” Anastacia decided hurriedly based on the first thing she saw and kept nervously looking into the darkness that had stayed uncomfortably silent for a while now.

“Waste not thy time worrying, for the third one is handling the matter.” The newly named Apple laughed. “I would rather thou put more effort into a name for me, a fitting title would also be much appreciated. Might I suggest ‘Graceful’ or ‘Exquisite’?”

Anastacia had no intention to acknowledge the request and turned her attention to the other necromancer that had appeared with the flash of light. Pearly white robes that were clearly of Mournvalleyan origin, only lightly decorated with golden detailing here and there, but still far more opulent than the average necromancer’s garb. A metal collar meant to discourage speaking, directly lifted from her old Anchor uniform helped to find the resemblance this necromancer had to Anastacia. Her dimmed, only barely turquoise eyes had none of the glimmer of the original necromancer’s or even Apple’s eyes had, and were surrounded by ghastly dark rings that contrasted with the almost translucent white skin. The pale copy kept her hair far shorter than Anastacia herself preferred and had made it frizzier than it naturally was. The only bit of color to be found on her was a violet silk sash hanging from her shoulder that the adventurer knew to be a part of the ceremonial outfit of the inquisition, though obviously it had been red in their case. Despite the harrowing look in her eyes, the general look of this necromancer was far from tattered or poorly cared for, if anything, it was immaculate compared to either of the other two Anastacias present.

Though this necromancer had quickly spent the spears that she had carried on her back, Anastacia could tell that under the robes was a full arsenal of similar weaponry that the necromancer kept a constant grasp of.

Just as distinct as their looks, was how these two necromancers carried themselves. Apple’s powers, despite being considerable, were almost neglected. She didn’t even make an attempt to stand out next to the other two, almost as if she was trying to hide her powers. In the complete opposite end of the spectrum, the copy that still remained nameless burned bright with power, to a point where the inquisitors aboveground must have felt her presence. Anastacia could tell that for the first time, perhaps ever, she was the second strongest necromancer in the room, and the idea was both worrying and refreshing in that for once she didn’t have the upper hand and for once she didn’t have to have the upper hand.

“What’s her deal then?” Anastacia asked and lowered her tone, for some reason feeling like it was better if the other copy didn’t hear her.

“No different from that of mine, a fraction of thee that remains unutilized. Whilst my power comes from thy own lack of discipline or lack of intrigue in certain talents, that poor, unsporting curmudgeon is what thou have actively denied thyself from being.” Apple explained, considerably less interested than when talking about herself.

“So… She’s just pure asshole necromancy?” Suggested the adventurer, figuring that the main things she kept buried deep were her necromancer tendencies and some of the flaws in her personality.

Apple giggled. “Dost thee truly believe thee spent one and a half decades in a cell and that is all thou deny? Aloofness hides insecurity, anger shadows fear and loneliness is easy to mask as possessiveness.”

Suddenly Eminence’s voice spoke out from the dark, interrupting the necromancers. “Try as you may, Great Commander, no red nor one crowned as white has been brought forth, and my story goes on. Your attempts remain futile.” He stated with a fair amount of mockery in his voice.

The sound of massive wings flapping echoed from afar at first but quickly began closing in until one final gust of air almost toppled the nameless necromancer, who was standing nearest to where the sage landed. For the first time Eminence stepped out of the darkness his presence cast around him, revealing his presumably true form.

Hunched over and almost decrepit, but still three to four meters tall, a vaguely humanoid vulture-like creature shielded its empty eyes from the blue light the ancient mechanisms shone on it. Only remnants of the human form he had first presented remained, such as the oversized violet coat that now fit more appropriately, but was worn, shredded and tarnished. The silvery skull mask was cracked and bound to a head it no longer fit on, and a massive beak with sparse, sharp teeth poked out from under it. Large violet feathers poked out from the gaps in the few pieces of shiny armor under the coat, and constantly shed themselves as well as seemingly grew back in moments. Trinkets, baubles, bound tomes and other miscellaneous arcane items dangled from both the armor and the coat on silver chains that jangled on each step Eminence took. The two pairs of violet wings with a span of at least ten meters were gnawed on by disease and had several featherless spots, but their sheer size still made them imposing when spread open. The air moved by them was hard to breathe and tasted metallic for some reason.

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Though obviously in a rather rough shape, he had no signs of injuries sustained from the spears, and almost mockingly faced the necromancer that had thrown him across the room like a sack of flour. “Great Commander, I must admit that I am severely disappointed. Your last play is to summon yet one more false white to oppose me? The one who plotted the downfall of the ancient Aureun empire has no greater plans for me? The years have not been kind to your mind…” He ridiculed the one who had conjured Anastacia’s copies. “Once I’ve dealt with this embarrassing display, perhaps it is time to end your suffering and retire from this farce of a mission…”

The nameless necromancer shook her head as the tide of corruption started to affect her, but instead of hesitating, she pointed a single finger at the approaching sage. Anastacia could feel all the necromancer’s power concentrating on a single small piece of bone hidden in her sleeve and when it was finally released, the piece only traveled for a few meters before being torn to dust by the air resistance, but over these few meters, it took with it a good portion of Eminence’s upper body and sprayed it across the floor as a bloody paste. However, before his headless body had even collapsed, it had already begun to regrow, forming new parts from the darkness itself. All the while his laughter echoed from somewhere.

The nameless necromancer hesitantly retreated to the other two of her ‘sisters’ to avoid the corruption’s effects.

“He’s not wrong you know; this is a pretty shit plan if we still can’t kill him for good.” Anastacia pointed out. “It’s pretty clear nothing’s getting done until we find someone who counts as ‘red’ or has been crowned as The White One. He literally explained that himself.”

“Truly, ‘tis a shame one among us cut down what red she could find and refused even the suggestion of seeking such crowns.” Apple grinned from her seat and inspected her charred nails, occasionally glancing at the one she was obviously blaming.

The nameless necromancer suddenly raised her hand, making the other two flinch slightly as they expected some kind of a pointlessly overpowered necromancy trick, but nothing happened. They awkwardly stared at each other in silence for a while, before Anastacia realized what was happening.

“Are… are you asking for a permission to speak?” She guessed, remembering that it was what she was at least supposed to do back in the day.

The nameless necromancer nodded but didn’t say anything.

It took another moment of silence and worried glances at their quickly recuperating enemy, before either of the other two Anastacia’s realized that they needed to actually give the permission if they wanted the third to speak.

“I’m not sure, but I think being ‘red’ is a state of mind or something like that. I could be wrong, but you don’t need to be an inquisitor or even a necromancer… I think.” The nameless necromancer spoke in a quiet, extremely unsure tone, clearly immediately regretting ever speaking up. “So, if one of us could sort of… turn red or something, maybe it would help?”

Apple laughed. “A sound theory indeed, and uncomplicated to prove or disprove! Should the original possess the potential to be counted among the red, yours truly would already be exactly that.”

Without even bothering to stand up, Apple pointed at the ceiling, hidden by both darkness and mist above Eminence with one of her blackened fingers and snapped her fingers. Somehow the snapping sound echoed like thunder in the vast chamber, and a few strands of hair from the other two necromancers’ heads stood up, as if a thunderstorm was approaching. Apple slowly lowered her arm to point at their enemy, who was just finalizing regrowing his malformed head. In synch with a second snap of Apple’s fingers, a bolt of lightning, no lesser than those thrown about by gods of foul weather, crashed down onto the sage. What was left behind could only be described as a feathery splotch of meat that had exploded over a wide area, only barely missing the trio of necromancers.

However, the twisted laugher still echoed in the room and the darkness began reforming The Great Sage.

“Motherfucker…” Slipped past Apple’s lips before she regained her obviously faked poise. “It appears none here passes for what is needed for the task. A shame indeed!”

“What the fuck was that?!” Anastacia exclaimed and snapped her fingers a few times to try and replicate the magic, but nothing came out of it.

Apple scoffed. “Magic, thou would possess the ability to match mine, had thee paid attention to the arcane masters of Valor.”

“Wow, didn’t know I had such talent for a shitty attitude too.” The original Anastacia snarked.

While the other two bickered and wasted their precious time, the nameless necromancer stood with her hand once again hoisted up but slowly shying away as the quarrel heated up. When the others took notice of this, they turned to her and waited for whatever she had to say. Again, it took a moment for them to realize they needed to give her the permission to speak before she would do so.

“I’m sorry.” The nameless necromancer finally said and lowered her hand in shame.

“Sorry for what, that your suggestion didn’t work? It was worth the try – and you don’t need to keep raising your hand every time, we’re not in Mournvalley here.” Anastacia sighed. She stared at the rapidly healing sage and could feel the corruption grow stronger with him. “What are we supposed to do then, just keep painting the floor with him until something happens?”

“Inconvenient indeed. I know of some more… let us call them ‘questionable’ arts that I am keen to indulge in, but a battle of attrition is sure to be of disservice to us. Truly inconsiderate and impolite of our opposition to refuse to lay down and die in peace.” Apple nodded and peered at Eminence through a ring that dangled from the antler on her helmet. “Suppose our numbers serve as an advantage. A little care and the purple ruffian will find it a challenge to spread his influence over all of us at once. I do, however, find this to be an unlikely plan for someone by the moniker of ‘The Great Commander’ – this is much more like thy own schemes often are, dearest original sister.”

“Oh? Do you suddenly have a great plan that lets you shit talk my ideas? Last time I checked, I’ve gotten through life alive and well! So, mock them all you want, but they at least work.” The original necromancer defended her planning ability. She didn’t know why, but something about how Apple carried herself got on her nerves, even more so now that she knew the situation had barely improved. Someone else may have noticed that Apple’s traits of failing to take a dire situation seriously and impulsively mocking anyone unfortunate enough to engage her were directly inherited from the Anastacia, but she herself would have never admitted it.

Apple chortled. “Hast thee done so? Pardon my inquiry, but have thee not already reached the usual quota of deaths per person?”

While the two continued to waste time on perhaps the worst moment possible, the nameless necromancer had failed to comprehend the freedom given to her and once more raised her hand, quietly keeping it up until someone noticed.

When finally given the permission to say something, as well as a reminder that she could just speak freely, she pointed at Leggy, who had so far been perfectly content watching things unfold while being held in Anastacia’s arms. “I’m sorry, but could you ask the pretty machine if she could maybe be my friend? I’ve always wanted one.” She asked, sounding like she had to conjure up all bravery she could muster for her request.

A wave of bad memories washed over Anastacia as she remembered the days when she considered a stone wall by her bed to be her best friend, something which lasted for years, but was finally not the first thing she thought of when waking up. Which meant that it was now the nameless necromancer, the personification of things she no longer wanted to be, who had to live with that. She wiped her face quickly and gestured for Leggy to go and meet the lonely necromancer.

“Now wait just a fucking minute!” Apple suddenly exclaimed, immediately breaking the shoddily acted refined persona and stood up from her seat. “I’m the royalty here! If anyone gets to mess with my housecarl first, it’s me!”

Anastacia scoffed at the demand and shoved the unruly copy back down. “Royalty? Of what exactly? I’m the only reigning goblin queen around these parts and you’re just a fragment of me. You and me both know exactly how bleak that poor thing’s life is, so shut up and let her have this – we have more important things to figure out.”

Apple wasn’t about to give in as easily. “You might be the original one, but it’s a matter of fact that I’m better than you, and definitely better than her. It goes without saying that I get to hold on to the simulacrum while we’re here. I am the epitome of your perfection, she’s the miserable wreck of filthy necromancer trash we wanted to discard and forget into the darkest corner of your soul. What’s the point of pandering to her?” She selfishly argued as the tattoos on her skin began to glow dimly.

This horribly timed argument went on for far longer than it should have, and Eminence once more took shape. The aura of darkness and corruption grew ever stronger and the lights that held it back started to wane.

“This is your last stand? A pack of squabbling children fighting over toys! Truly Great Commander, you have fallen much further than we could have ever anticipated. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that you declined our offer, your... methods may have compromised our mission, even if we faced no opposition.” He marveled at the ineptness of his frankly immature opposition.

Not even bothering to turn to the sage, Apple snapped her fingers twice again, but a hardened shield of violet miasma gathered just in time to deflect the bolt directly at its caster. Though she managed pull off some kind of a trick to protect herself just in time, the sheer force of the lightning crashed Apple through the backrest of her wooden throne and bounced her across the water a few times, throwing her far into the darkness.

Anastacia once more took control of her borrowed sword and swung it with as much power as she could muster so suddenly, but the warping air around the sage cushioned the blow immensely, allowing Eminence to grab onto the blade. The presumably enchanted rings he wore on his disgustingly long and thin fingers welded themselves onto the metal of the blade with rust, and caused it to spread onto the surface of the weapon.

“Your element of surprise has been exhausted, false whites. Though I am a man of words first, a time has come to end this… Each second I waste with this dead end is a second lost for the entire world.” The Great Sage spoke lamentingly and ceased his laughter and mockery. “A final decision I can give you, evil ones, do you lay down to die quickly, or do you further doom this world by struggling against what is inevitable? Though you do not deserve it, I will grant you a swift end – should you decide to go quietly.”

On top of the apathy spread by Eminence, Anastacia could feel something she had never before felt welcome in the slightest; someone was quickly tearing away her control over the arm holding on to the sword. Normally this would have been a cause for panic, but lacking other options, she knew who was behind it. As soon as she released her grasp, the strength moving the sword grew immensely and Eminence had to use his other hand to only barely keep it from slicing him in two.

“Dearest original Anastacia, I apologize for speaking out of turn, but my life is of no consequence. Could you take the pretty machine and avoid harm from coming to you? I will hold the line as long as needed, no matter the cost.” The nameless necromancer spoke and gave Leggy’s hand one final squeeze before stepping forth and launching an assortment on bone shrapnel from under her robes, only few of which tore into Eminence’s armor but still made him stumble, freeing the sword.

Anastacia nodded and scurried back to be out of way when her copy unleashed all the necromantic power she consciously and subconsciously held back.