Eminence cackled at the suggestion of being freed at the cost of undoing even some of the damage he had done. “How typical! You perfectly exemplify the difference between us, and why you could never do what needs to be done, or never be counted among our ranks! You expect me to grovel and plead for your kindness in sparing my life? Though it might be difficult for your kind to comprehend, naught of what I did was for myself. My actions are solely to benefit the world as a whole, to sustain it just a moment longer, and if the cost ends up being my meager and darkened life… then so be it!” He exclaimed without hesitation or regret. “The blow dealt to those who would oppose us in the future will suffice, I am content. The story shall continue even without me.”
Emilia leaned closer to Apple’s frozen body and whispered. “What is he talking about?”
“He reckons thy world is slowly ending and claims he aims to delay such fate.” The queen necromancer explained briefly. “He simply chose to be an absolute bell-end about it, which led to… well, this.”
“Damn… Is it ending?” The priestess asked while Pyria tightened her coils of wire around the sage to shut him up.
“Should I be able to, I would shrug at your inquiry.” Apple admitted to not knowing. “I should also inform thee that the original is on her way here.”
Just as Emilia was about to abandon everything and rush back to her friend, a furious scream echoed from the distance.
“YOU FEATHERY FUCK, GIVE ME BACK MY KING!” Anastacia roared and determinately marched out of the mist.
Seeing the necromancer unreasonably annoyed about something wasn’t all that rare for the priestess, but never once had she seen her friend so furious about anything. The blood dripping from her hands evaporated and turned to red dust before it reached the floor, and several pieces of bone scattered around by the previous brawls slowly floated up, only to get ground into dust that was scattered by the ebb and flow of Anastacia’s powers.
“Anna…” Emilia uttered as the necromancer passed her, but was discouraged from continuing.
“This doesn’t concern you.” Anastacia stated coldly and kept her gaze locked on the sage.
Eminence laughed at what he considered a pointless show of force when Anastacia finally reached him. He no doubt knew of Anastacia’s peek into King’s soul, and seemed to be intrigued about what she though of his final play. “So, back at this are we? Truly, nothing has been learned if you think you can threaten me, useless child.” He heckled her fearlessly.
Anastacia glanced at the fiend standing by the trapped sage and more or less figured out that she was the ‘red one’ they had been waiting. However, she had no business with the blood-soaked thing for now and really didn’t care what the fiend was about or where the others had even found such a person.
“Oh I know I can’t kill you, and honestly don’t care about that anymore. I’m sure you’ll get your comeuppance without my help.” She said, still accidentally cooling down the room by moving energy from the air into the floor, enough to turn a part of the mist into a light snowfall. “But what you’ve done is make this personal for me.
“Sure, I was upset before, and still am, you killed a new friend I had made while exploring here and were just ruining this beautiful place for your stupid ideals, but I was working back then. I came here on a quest to fix whatever caused Erratic Judgement to send out emergency signals or whatever. Letting the thing next to you turn you into some purple chunks would have left a lot of simulacra broken and it would have absolutely sucked – but I think I could have eventually lived with it, as long as you were dead of course. But King, I can’t live without, so I guess I’m here in more personal capacity than before. Not to mention you have acted against our kingdom, and as its queen, it’s my duty to see such transgressions punished.”
Eminence chortled at the boastful threat. “And? What might that change? Will you conjure up some bones to smite me with, or perhaps throw some flame? You still lack the ability to threaten me, and even if you somehow could harm my mortal shell, it does not matter. My deeds will carry my name into the future chapters.”
Anastacia splashed the liquid on the floor with her foot. “Well, your whole thing is preserving the world, no? I’ll simply do the opposite and start destroying it ahead of schedule.”
“What?...” Both Eminence and Emilia asked at the same time.
“Turn the forests into ash, grind mountains into dust, turn deserts into glass… That sort of thing.” The necromancer explained. “I’m pretty handy when it comes to breaking things, so I can probably get more done in like two days than you dipshits can save in a month. Then just continue that until you agree to fuck off or one of your friends comes and purges your nonsense off King.”
Confused silence filled the room as almost everyone tried to figure out if this was a bluff or not – everyone except Pyria, who was simply ecstatic to hear a necromancer speak like a proper white one. Even the fortress itself became slightly quieter as Erratic Judgement tried to get a handle on the new tactic being employed, or if it was one in the first place.
Eminence’s mocking laughter had ceased entirely. “You would not turn the blade on this world just for that…” He claimed, sounding awfully unsure of himself.
Anastacia felt the prodding feeling of the sage’s powers trying to see into her head, but it was far weaker than before.
“Well, the powers that be, whether it’s gods, some asshole above them, fate or just you, figured it was a cool idea to try and take King from me. Maybe it’s time they, whoever ‘they’ are, learn not to touch my shit anymore, because I’m tired of it.” The queen of the goblin kingdom stated matter-of-factly while holding her hand out. She used the antlers on her crown to tug it from the adventurers’ equipment carried by one of the knights and call it to her hand. Calmly placing it on her head, she made her ruling. “As your punishment for being a complete fuckwad, I give you three options. First: I let that red one tear you apart, and you die knowing your actions did nothing but cause someone to actively try and ruin everything you worked for, until one of your friends undoes what you did. Second: I set you free, you scamper into whatever hole you crawled out of without erasing your corruption from this place and we go right back to the first option. Third: I set you free, you erase the corruption from this place, including King’s soul and the nameless one back there, and hope we never cross paths again. You have sixty seconds to decide.”
Ten second passed in silence as the sage sought for any signs of indecisiveness in the necromancer, finding none in the end. After thirty seconds, he was starting to get visibly nervous as Pyria’s grin slowly widened and Anastacia still stood with an utterly cold stare in her eyes.
Finally, in the nick of time, Eminence spoke out. “I yield… I can not kill you now, nor can I risk turning you against our cause so firmly. I have seen the destruction you can cause… I will release my grasp on the soul of your doll, as well as this place.” With his words, a great weight was lifted from the shoulders of everyone within the fortress. The shadows became just a bit brighter, the colors a bit more vibrant, air fresher and the sounds of the fortress echoed joyfully from the deep.
“Good on you. Blood demon… thing, I don’t know what you are, or if you even listen to me, release him and let him flap the fuck off.” Anastacia demanded and wiggled her finger at Pyria.
The fiend grinned gleefully and bowed deep. “And so ruled Queen Anastacia.” She said as the spikes and wires turned into blood and freed Eminence.
The Great Sage, beaten and defeated, glanced once more at the queen who had outplayed him, and without a word, vanished into thin air. The loud flapping of his wings was audible for a while, but as far as anyone present could tell, Eminence was finally gone.
Slightly relaxing her pose and finally regaining control of her ice magic as she calmed down, Anastacia turned towards the general direction of Erratic Judgement. Using the continuing confused but relieved silence, she made her next ruling. “Erratic Judgement, I’m taking my knight with me out of here, you have no say in the matter and you’re lucky I don’t take more of your stuff.” She stated and waited for a few seconds but didn’t hear a response, nor would she had accepted any complaints. “Now then… Emilia, great to see you, we’ll talk later. Apple, you’re in charge of explaining things. Unit twelve, don’t stab anyone or I’ll let Apple to handle you. Weird blood thing, you’re gross but kind of cool. You guys figure out what you need to figure out, I’m beyond tired, want to just lay down and cry but I also have a simulacrum to reactivate and rub myself against in a vaguely inappropriate manner.”
With those words, Anastacia took off her crown and walked into the mist to revive King. Soon after, Apple and the custodian were let free of their necromantic prisons.
As soon as she could move, unit twelve stomped over to the priestess and grasped the collar of her uniform with both her hands to pull her face a bit closer. “What the fuck did you idiots do?! Did you not see Trauma?! You had him under your heel and you just let him go!” She screamed from the top of her lungs and pressed the tip of her horn against Emilia’s forehead, just hard enough for it to sting.
“This place is free now, and that’s exactly what we were here for. I understand your frustration, but would killing Eminence have been worth dooming everything else here?” The priestess asked calmly and gestured towards the knights that had stood by the custodian the entire time.
Whether it was the literal thousands of years of work she and the rest of The Wrath core had put into the maintenance of the fortress and its inhabitants, or the questionable level of friendship she had built with the simulacra over the years, unit twelve couldn’t outright state that killing Eminence would have been worth it. She shoved the priestess away, gestured for the knights to round up and headed towards the center of the hall to make a report for The Great One, no doubt in part to avoid stabbing someone out of sheer annoyance at the situation.
This left behind the odd group of Emilia, Pyria and Apple, who bid farewells to her elemental allies before addressing anything else. Even if one was on their good side, the elements themselves weren’t something to keep around for the sake of companionship, they were very busy after all. While this was going on, Emilia tried to figure out if Apple was perhaps one of the fractions of Anastacia she had already met, but she didn’t seem familiar in that sense, and the original necromancer was still in one piece.
However, even more intrigued was the fiend, who kept a keen eye on Apple, but seemed uncharacteristically hesitant to actually approach the necromancer. “We are beyond fortunate this apparition is confined to these forgotten halls.” The voice in Emilia’s head spoke. “It is but a human-shaped mask on pure curiosity and greed. There is no familiarity for people, there is no hope for better or even pity for the lesser beings. There is only bottomless intrigue and hunger for… something. Should it be free, it would study the world and test it, until all would submit to it. It would tear the sun out of the sky to see what would happen and gaze upon the apocalypse… disappointed in the lack of spectacle in it. All of this without a spec of malice in its actions.”
“What a rude thing thee have in thy head!” Apple giggled and suddenly turned to Emilia, evidently having heard Pyria’s comment.
The physical manifestation of the fiend moved her hand as if to protect the priestess from the grinning little necromancer, whom she clearly considered much more of a threat than Eminence had been at any point.
“Calm thyself, the original one might hoard the lion’s share of our affection towards Emilia, but I still get to hold the other, deeply confusing forms of reverence towards her. This presence of mine can be dispelled by our gracious host as well, should I act against their purposes.” The necromancer explained to calm the situation. “To avoid such a fate, I would be required to joust for the control of these structures with Erratic Judgement himself... But let us not focus on such dreary matters! Effectively, I am but a slightly less necromancey yet more cuddly variant of thy friend, ushered forth no differently to the ancient horror beside you.”
Emilia hadn’t been particularly worried in the first place, being the one with the most experience tackling various aspects of Anastacia. Though this one was somewhat different from the others, to her it was still just Anna. Resisting the urge to tell Apple to put a shirt on, because of how pointless it would have no doubt been, she exchanged what they had learned of the matter with what Apple knew about Eminence and the three versions of Anastacia that now existed. The necromancer put some very obvious extra weight on how good of a job Leggy had done protecting Anastacia throughout their journey and held an even more obvious grudge against her nameless ‘sister’ for the venator’s clear preferences. Weirdly enough, King was the only simulacra Apple seemed fairly lukewarm about, not appearing all too interested in waking him up at all.
In the end, there was one more thing that bothered the priestess. “Since you’re an Anastacia, do you think she would have gone through with her threat of causing pointless destruction? I would like to think she wouldn’t have, but I can’t make claims even on what I would have done in her place…” She warily asked, keeping her voice a bit hushed.
“She thought she would have, but I am doubtful that she would have it in her as things are.” Apple guessed while harassing Pyria by flicking sunflower seeds at her and making them grow at the fiend’s feet for reasons only she understood.
“I think such an answer to be inadequate at best…” The fiend muttered in Emilia’s mind. “There are several matters that can not be ignored so lightly – not the least important of them being the flaws ever-present in necromancers. By definition, their powers require loss – the death of someone’s friend or family, loved one… because of this, they think of themselves numb to its effects, as having mastered death. Their heightened awareness of death also more often than not manifests in them only forging a few meaningful companionships over their lives. The problem arises when a death severs a necromancer from their companion, a death they thought themselves to be a master of. Almost without a fail, this burns out what light the necromancer saw in the world and leaves them without a meaning. They will begin to seek someone to blame for the unfairness of the world and the ramifications of this rely on the magnitude of their abilities. Should the world be lucky, the necromancer has a foe to convey their rage to, someone to blame for their loss… should luck be against us, they will blame the world itself…
“I am certain Anastacia has a life hardly comparable to most of her kind, but I would only consider it as a slight delay. What may have been said in jest, would take seed into her mind, linger and grow until it becomes an option, and by that point, it is already too late. It has happened more than once before…” She warned, out of experience no doubt.
“So very rude of thee to assume necromancers to be irreparably broken, only based on the minor detail that one of us almost snuffed out all life in this world. I, and by extension Anastacia, am better than that.” Apple disagreed and lobbed a few more seeds at the fiend.
The argument did little to ease Emilia’s mind on the matter, but there was no real way to figure out the answer, and luckily, they didn’t need to. However, there was still a matter to be settled before the quest got its closure – they needed to make contact with the one who had initially sent out the request for aid: Erratic Judgement. Asking about how to reach The Great Commander caused a bit of a chuckle out of both Pyria and Apple.
“This fortress is Erratic Judgement, he hears every word thee speak, no matter where thou art, so just speak your piece and hope it seems worthy of an answer.” The necromancer explained and spun in place with her arms stretched out.
“Oh…” The priestess hadn’t really thought out what she would say, but she knew the general suggestion she would make to The Great One. Clearing her throat, she faced the mist in the direction that felt appropriate and spoke out. “Wise Erratic Judgement, my friends and I have now rid you of the corruption caused by the being called Eminence, and though we ask for no reward, I do have a request for your consideration. We were tasked to do this by a group of first artificial children, who identify as The Firstborn. They serve a deity they call ‘The Prince of Life’, and are unable to contact you because of the unique manner of their devotion. As a priestess of Sylvia myself, I would ask that you lower your defenses against the divine and allow them inside to greet you. Perhaps they can offer you aid in recovering from this incident, or perhaps you have something to offer to them?”
The request didn’t seem to cause much reaction. The noises of the machine fortress didn’t change in the slightest, and there most definitely wasn’t a direct answer given. After a moment of looking around for any signs of accepting or denying the suggestion but not seeing much, Emilia started to wonder if she had somehow spoken rudely.
Suddenly Apple decided to add her weight to the deal. “Grant the priestess’ request, and I offer thee the services of myself as well as the other copy, should she be rid of corruption now. Together, we art more than capable to shield thee from further incursions, be they divine or otherwise. Though I may not speak for her abilities, mine exceed your own custodians when it comes to understanding and repairing the first artificial children, and through me, you could regain the use of many that were lost.”
Emilia hadn’t expected such a gesture and quizzically glanced at Apple.
“We art not real, nor are we able to leave these halls. I will gladly further thy cause and our existence, should it benefit you.” The necromancer said and smiled normally for the first time since Emilia had met her. “Not to mention that I get to see more simulacra if I stick around.”
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A loud thump echoed from somewhere above them and what had been one in the myriads of strange sounds surrounding them, started to slow down into a ticking noise and eventually ceased entirely. Before anyone could say anything, Emilia was engulfed in blinding radiance that heated a fair portion of the hall.
The priestess could no longer hear the uncomfortable and vile songs that had plagued her mind for days, instead, her head was filled with joyous serenades she knew and loved. The dented armor of her uniform detached itself from her skin and regained its mirror-like luster, and in seconds, the tattered white cloth of her cloak was freed from its stains and repaired entirely. The blood on her hands and feet burned off in a flash, and when the light dimmed, Emilia had returned to her normal look – if not even slightly purer and more glistening than usual. However, gone with the light were both versions of Pyria. Perhaps it was for the better, and though she hated the idea that she had gotten familiar with the fiend, she couldn’t help but to feel a bit saddened about the lack of farewells. Such doubts were quickly forgotten, however, when the familiar strength returned to the priestess’ body and mind. Sylvia’s return was accompanied by warmth that encompassed the body and soul of everyone nearby, doing much to erode away to callousness caused by days of delving into a steadily worsening situation and only really witnessing battles that had been lost even before the adventurers had arrived.
“The questions and answers are many, but let us revel in our reunion until a time more suitable.” Sylvia greeted her chosen one.
Emilia did indeed have questions, such as why there was an ancient horror just living inside her, but she did agree that there was a better time for inquiries and kept her thoughts on more pleasant matters.
“Hey, god-thing.” Apple interrupted them, still able to hear the voice inside Emilia’s head. “About Eminence, I think it might interest you.” She hinted and produced a brief flash of light in the shape of The Violet Sect’s emblem in the air by snapping her fingers.
As technically Anastacia, she was aware of the deal regarding The Baron of Iron’s death between the deity and Emilia’s friends. The emblem had been present on the defeated warriors in the baron’s keep as well as on Eminence’s outfit in all its forms. It was safe to assume the two were connected, and that the baron’s loss of life was the result of the sect’s previous failed attempt to recruit beings for their purposes. Apple did not know if there was anything Sylvia could do before Eminence would be able to escape the fortress, but the deity could at least get a trace to follow as the sage retreated into whatever dark realm he had come from.
The songs inside Emilia’s head were silenced for a moment and the warmth in her took a more sinister, scorching turn. “Good.” She uttered in someone else’s voice without realizing it before things returned to normal.
In an unhospitable inn, kilometers above the machine fortress, three necromancers and an old adventurer were biding their time. The siege laid onto the town by the scrawny simulacra had simply vanished into thin air a bit over a day ago, and though one of the inquisitors still kept watch at all times, it seemed largely pointless.
Around one table, the wingless Iris kept quietly staring at a small flame on a candle, as if she was trying to decipher some meaning from it. She had been at it for days now, only stopping when she needed to relieve Cobalt from his watch over the town or when she slept. No one had dared to question her about it, as they could see she was still utterly broken over her loss of wings and didn’t want to bother her.
Next to Iris was one of her students, an apt and knowledgeable medical practitioner by the name of Laurenth, but also a pitiable necromancer at best. When not tending to Maya or offering aid to the townsfolk in vain attempts to get them to warm up to the necromancer presence in their town, he spent his time by a large piece of leather, onto which was inscribed some rather crude control patterns. In the middle of the patterns, he had placed a small piece of bone, barely larger than a finger. Every few minutes, after rigorous focusing and moving about vials of blood on the leather piece, the shard of bone flipped and Laurenth looked extremely pleased with himself.
Around the table next to them, sat Cobalt and Gilbert. First of whom spent much of his time reading and taking notes on the book he had stolen from Anastacia’s room. Though he was curt and obviously annoyed by having to stay in some pointless little town, away from his precious library, he had slightly warmed to the old adventurer over the days and didn’t seem to mind having someone with a modicum of knowledge to talk with. Gilbert himself had spend his days doing what he had done for a good while now, smoking his pipe and looking after necromancers.
Barring Laurenth, who seemed to have some understanding on how a normal town functioned, the inquisitors were quite possibly more clueless than Anastacia had ever been. To start with, the money all of them combined carried with them wouldn’t had lasted for more than a day, even at the prices the adventurer considered dirt cheap. Apparently, there was someone else within the inquisition who, to quote Cobalt, ‘handled money-related things’ when it came to the world outside of Mournvalley. While Iris would have been fine with ‘borrowing’ things whenever they needed something, Cobalt often tried to explain that he was the head archivist of The Great Library of Mournvalley and simply expected the things he needed to be free after that, Maya on the other hand simply took what she needed and no one dared to speak against it. All of this led to Laurenth having to run around, paying debts with money Gilbert had given him for the sake of not causing more trouble than there already was.
When Maya had at one point regained new limbs through methods none of the necromancers were willing to speak of, she had started to spend most of her time outside, pretending to guard the town. The frigid air slowed the rotting of her limbs and she didn’t want Gilbert to think she smelled. Laurenth supplied her with fresh bandages and fragrant ointments to cover it, so she could every now and then spend a few hours inside without it being noticeable. She had also taken on most of the duties relating to the care of the infant the inquisitors were in the process of taking back to Mournvalley with them.
Gilbert packed his pipe once more while watching Laurenth perform what seemed to be some sort of ritual again and again for little to no results. “What is he doing?” He asked from Cobalt.
“Practicing necromancy. What you’re seeing there is the capabilities of roughly a quarter of our population.” Cobalt answered without bothering to look.
“Hmm…” The old adventurer nodded and continued to follow the exercise. “I knew not everyone could be Anna, but that’s not what I expected.”
Recognizing that there was a conversation developing, Cobalt closed his book. “Well yes, you’ve likely only interacted with the handful of necromancers that give us our reputation, but it’s just that, a handful. Almost half of all necromancers aren’t able to utilize their powers in anything useful and are basically just regular people. A further quarter can use necromancy well enough to use it for work or maintain thralls raised by more powerful necromancers. Maybe a tenth of us can be utilized in combat with any efficacy, the rest fall somewhere in between, and the ones you’ve met can be barely found in double digits – and are getting ever rarer thanks to a certain someone.” He explained in further detail. “And of course, all of this is confidential.”
Gilbert calmly lit his pipe before saying anything. “Perhaps it would be in your best interests to leave that certain someone be?” He commented.
“That was the plan, but the certain someone keeps appearing in places we go to. Personally, I consider leaving her alive a tactical mistake, since she is obviously extremely intent on being in the way, and even at the cost of a few lives, I think removing her from all calculations would simplify things. Hardly any of us subscribe to the way of thinking Iris does regarding bygones being bygones either – but perhaps, and this is purely theoretical, that is why Coquelicot saw it fit to leave decisions like that to Iris. Maybe we’re all wrong on this one and forgiveness on our part is what’s good for Mournvalley? I can’t on good conscience say that it has been tried before.” The inquisitor pondered half-seriously.
“She might be a bit… strange, but I’ve listened to her once and it worked out.” The adventurer chuckled.
Cobalt began reviewing his notes on The Violet Sect, dutifully underlining the things he considered important and making sure everything was covered in enough detail. Gilbert saw this as an opportunity to hopefully learn a thing or two about the subject.
“So, what purpose do the colors serve? First there were red necromancers, white was mentioned at some point, then you guys appeared with your blue garbs and now I need to worry about violet ones too?” He hid the question as a sort of a joke.
“It was an obsession of one ancient necromancer that has somewhat carried over to this day. Basically, there are seven colors, each signifying a certain type of a person. Though it isn’t limited to necromancers in any way, we are the only ones to hold on to it. In ancient days, anyone capable enough in their profession could don the color suited to them.” Cobalt said and geared up for what was clearly going to be a long lecture. “Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. In one end of the spectrum, you have red. Up until recently, still represented by the old inquisition. They have the singular task of reigning in things that have gotten too far, but ironically, they were the ones that were taken too far.
“The Cult of Orange, archivists and hoarders of knowledge, their activities were ended by the inquisition some two hundred years ago. The Yellow Guard, immovable sentinels tasked with protecting others, also ended by the old inquisition. Magisters Green, to put it simply, teachers to share what is already known for the future generations, once again, ended by the inquisition. The Lamenters in Blue, to support and provide stability in turbulent times. Originally buried with the rest by the red, but brought back as the new inquisition. Indigo Guild, healers and generally good people, and once more, buried by the red.
“Finally, The Violet sect. Originally the researchers and scholars, tasked to discover new things and develop technology. From what I understand, the only ones who actually needed to be curbed by the reds – frequently, for things even The Red Inquisition considered abhorrent and beyond justification. Eventually this almost turned into an all-out war between the two, until one day the sect just disappeared completely.” He finished and tapped the book with his hand. “Supposedly.”
Gilbert pondered what he had heard for a while watching Iris continue staring at the candle. He thought about the blue inquisitors he knew; Alice, Cobalt, Iris and Maya. Barring the first one, there really seemed to be a more suiting color for all of them. “I have to wonder, is there a reason for your blue appearance? It doesn’t feel all that fitting.”
Cobalt almost smiled. “I do enjoy your quick uptake. To put it simply, for there to be several actually blue necromancers in the handful of powerful ones left, is a statistical impossibility. However, people of Mournvalley know what blue signifies, and it is exactly that what they needed to see after living in fear of red for their entire lives. So, for our little nation, we will masquerade in these garbs and under these names, at least until the dust settles.” He sighed and straightened his uniform. “Eventually, the plan is to begin anew and establish each of these organizations as they were supposed to be, including the red.”
All of a sudden, Iris shot up from her seat and started heading outside as if she had forgotten to do something there, with much more enthusiasm than she had done anything with ever since she lost her wings.
“Where are you going?” Her fellow inquisitor asked.
“I need to get Maya and head out of town – the flame told me to do so!” Iris said and dashed out, leaving the door open in her hurry.
Gilbert and Cobalt glanced at each other and unanimously decided to follow her, fearing that the crestfallen inquisitor had finally lost it – more so than usual. Cobalt made sure to grab his precious book and ordered Laurenth to take care of the child, as if it wasn’t the apprentice medic who had already put her to bed earlier. They then followed Iris into the freezing cold winter evening.
Tracking another necromancer was a piece of cake for Cobalt, but Iris was quick on her feet, and managed to both find Maya and leave the town with her before they caught up to her. However, even before that, it became clear that something awry. Each of the necromancers could feel the same familiar yet unfamiliar tingle in the back of their minds that Anastacia had felt as soon as they stepped out of the town, and only a little while later saw the reason for it.
Roughly halfway between the town and the machine fortress, stood a large, badly injured creature with an appearance so twisted that it made it hard to look directly at it. It’s four massive wings shed violet feathers onto the ground as it gazed towards the sky for something.
It was obvious that Maya was already contemplating ending the creature for the crime of existing within her field of vision, but Iris had told her to stand back for now, as they didn’t know what they were dealing with.
“What on earth is that?” Gilbert asked out loud as he reached the inquisitors.
“I… I don’t know, the voice of the flame told me to come here with Maya.” Iris uttered, just as confused about the whole thing as everyone else.
“You three should go back, I will see to this…” Maya said and tightened the bandages around her shoulder.
Clearly in pain and quite a hurry, the creature turned to the group that had appeared. It stared at them for some time with a rather serious look, until suddenly bursting into laughter. “Necromancers… and notable ones at that.” It chuckled, fully extended its wings and revealed its horribly beaten form. “What luck. It could be that the third time is the charm.”
With the aid of its wings, the disgusting beast leaped closer to get a better look. The terrible numbing feeling caused by its stare became almost unbearable to both Iris and Gilbert, but Maya somehow seemed to be able to stand up to it, and Cobalt had wisely moved out of the way already.
“Tell me, young necromancers, how do you stop a story from being finished?” The creature asked and seemed to find delight in the reactions.
The question caused pieces to lock into their place in Cobalt’s mind. He had gotten suspicious of the creature’s identity from the color of its torn garbs and the corrupting presence, but the riddle confirmed his thinking just as firmly as the emblem in the beast’s medallion.
“You kill the writer.” He stated and stepped nearer to Maya.
The winged creature laughed manically upon hearing the answer. “Correct!” It exclaimed. “Truly, we are birds of a feather. Perhaps there is an offer I can extend to you three! A righteous eternal fight against evil, vast libraries of knowledge and a chance to do something meaningful – without having to worry over the petty squabbles of this world?”
While Maya simply didn’t care and Iris was confused by what was going on, Cobalt at least appeared to be intrigued. “Vast libraries you say?” He asked.
“Knowledge beyond all mortal understanding, indeed.” The creature grinned, clearly thinking its offer had found a willing participant.
“Cobalt…” Iris said angrily, ready to lecture her fellow inquisitor about accepting deals for infinite knowledge from strangers.
“Iris, I would like to resign from my duties in the inquisition, and I’m taking Maya with me for additional muscle.” The inquisitorial scribe declared with his greed for more knowledge burning through clear as day. “We simply won’t have the time for the inquisitorial tasks, not when we need to tear tomes from the cold dead hands of these fools so that I can add them to The Great Library.”
The winged creature reeled back and sighed. “The necromancers of this age are truly a disappointment. Without a fail, they attack what they can not understand – or kill for that matter.”
Cobalt grandly took out the book he had been studying for days now and opened a page he had been reminded of. “… and the first among them is Eminence, the great false being. A sorry critter made up of stories, illusions and falsehoods. His gaze still reflects the void The Violet Sect claim to have stared upon and casts apathy on all it sees. Once a proud necromancer, now a pitiful vulture, eternally scarred by the sheer prospect of it all coming to an end. Several times, I have interrupted his hunt for allies to join their ranks, but killing him still eludes me. Should someone with the knowledge from this book come across the cursed thing, know that like all of his vile sect, Eminence is controlled by fear, and can only be defeated by what he fears. Fortunately, there is nothing he fears more than the red ones who expelled the violet necromancers from our realm.” He read out loud from the page, and turned to Maya. “Now, I’ve read this little book by Amaranth from cover to cover with great care, and though we may have had some disagreements with its author, I am firmly of the opinion that The Violet Sect has learned nothing in its exile. What do you think, Maya… or should I say, Vermilion?”
The newly named red necromancer was more than happy to oblige to the idea of ridding the world of Eminence, in fact she had considered doing it well before her wordy colleague had even brought up the idea. Though she was not exactly subtle in general, the same corrupting effect that caused apathy and desperation in all others failed miserably against her, instead making her blood boil at the sight of the violet color. With a rather impressive jump, she crossed the distance to Eminence and landed a hefty kick on the sage’s shoulder, shattering it and immobilizing his left arm and both wings on the same side.
Shock and terror took over the winged being when he realized that his injuries were just as permanent as they had been when made by Pyria. “No! The red line was cut! The Red Inquisition is no more!” He screamed and stared at the decidedly red necromancer before him.
A torrent of bone fragments that had still been scattered across the field rushed over the onlookers and condensed into a single sharp point that barely missed their wielder’s shoulder when it impaled Eminence’s chest. As it passed through and collided with the frozen ground behind him, the stream of shards solidified into a rather intricate tree-like shape that grew through the sage’s body. With new branches sprouting rapidly and further tearing apart his body, Eminence was finally gone for good.
“Hmm, now that that’s done, we have four more to find – I think.” Cobalt said and flipped through the pages to find descriptions of Eminence’s accomplices.
Iris rushed to see if Maya, or Vermillion, was okay. “What even just happened?!” She asked and started to hastily redo the loosened bandages on her friend’s limbs.
“Well, I killed the thing like the book asked.” Maya commented and pointed at the gory husk dangling from the bone tree she had created.
“To put it shortly, The Violet Sect is back, like I had feared.” Cobalt pitched in a bit more helpfully and kept flipping through the pages. “It’s not ideal, and I mean what I said, this is where our paths separate.”
Iris stopped what she was doing. “What?” She asked in disbelief and already on the verge of tears, she knew Cobalt didn’t joke around.
“There are places mentioned in this book that I have to visit to find out more about our enemy, I can’t do that while bound to my inquisitorial duties.” The soon-to-be retired inquisitorial scribe explained. “This is not an enemy we can ignore for a second longer. As you saw, the last actual red necromancer we have works very well for the exact purpose the old inquisition was made for, so I need her with me as well.”
“But… but we should go back home and tackle this thing together!” Iris pleaded. “Maya, tell him he’s being stupid again!”
Maya gave Iris a comforting pat on the back. “Iris…” She said with a gentle voice that was rarely heard by anyone, but which immediately gave away her intention to run off with Cobalt. “You and I both know that ‘Maya’ had been gone for a while now. I am nothing but a barely living lump of stitched together flesh with some half-lucid moments between pain and blind rage. So, if there is a purpose for me to serve before it all unravels, I have to take it.”
While Iris latched onto Maya’s leg and bawled her eyes out, Cobalt approached Gilbert and took him a bit further away to whisper without the other two hearing.
“This seems very planned, you know.” The old adventurer said. “Care to share the actual reasoning behind this?”
Cobalt nodded. “Maya and I have talked this out over the last couple of days, should things turn out like I feared.” He whispered and showed the book to Gilbert. “Amaranth was painfully aware that this day would come, but she knew the sect to have notable allies in Mournvalley, and was too paranoid to pass this knowledge forward. According to this book, she was the one responsible for imprisoning Anastacia, to keep her away from outside influences. Later on, she could be crowned as The White One and be taught about The Violet Sect. In the end, none of that happened because we royally fucked up the whole plan with our revolution, and well, now I have no idea who to trust anymore. Coquelicot is… not available at the moment, so I’ll be doing this on my own for now.”
Gilbert looked at Eminence’s mangled but otherworldly corpse, figured he was out of his depth and should let the necromancers handle their necromancer problems. Judging by a trail of violet blood, the creature had crawled out of the fort, and the likelihood that his friends were to blame for its state was high, so he could probably learn more of it from them – whenever they returned. “What makes you think I can be trusted?” He asked.
“You’re too useless to be worth recruiting, and too smart to intentionally give this information to me.” The inquisitor backhandedly complimented the adventurer. “I seriously doubt Iris has anything to do with anything, but for now I’m not going to risk it after the whole ‘voice of the flame’ thing. So, I need you to make sure she makes it to safety, Mournvalley, Valor, anywhere. Can you do that?”
“You could say that I have experience in such things. Sure, I’ll handle it.” Gilbert agreed. “What about Anna, should she know?”
Cobalt pondered the pros and cons of the situation for a moment. “I genuinely think she’s too stupid to conspire against anyone, so if she asks, consider telling her. If you can find out a way to convince her to become a white one, that would help too. If I learn anything I might need help for, I’ll be contacting you through the usual manner.”
“Just use the door this time.” The adventurer sighed.