Uzak Pass
Blue Mage Aleksandar Stojanovski
Aleksandar desperately wanted to sleep. He'd travelled nearly non-stop ever since landing in the coastal city of Argento, changing horses every ten miles, and only stopping for a few hours when it was too dark to travel. His thighs and backside were chaffed and stiff, and he could barely walk without assistance. Now at the Uzak Pass Fort, he hoped he'd be able to rest in a proper bed for the night.
With the help of a servant he took a seat in a plain office, unsure who he was supposed to meet or what new torture the Eldritch Council was preparing for him. At least there was a bowl of warm soup and a steaming cup of tea set out. Sending a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother and Father, he dug in.
The door opened and a harried looking man wearing stained red robes entered the office. Aleksandar struggled to stand, only to be waved back down.
“Sit, finish your soup,” the man said. “You've had a long journey and it's going to get worse.”
“Thank you, Mage...?” he asked the unknown man, slumping back down. Then the words hit him, “Wait... worse?”
“I'm Mage Elias. And yes, worse. Weather reports from over the mountains say a blizzard is forming, It should hit the pass in three to four days.”
“It takes five days to get through the pass,” Aleksandar said, a cold dread creeping up his spine.
“If you travel normally it will. Fortunately it's snowed several times in the last week. We've prepared a dog sled for you. The dogs and their handler know the pass well, and I sent out several teams ahead of you, to relay you to the recon camp at the end of the pass. You won't be able to rest like you undoubtedly hoped, but you'll be riding in relative comfort in the sled.”
“If I may ask, why am I being sent in such a rush? I'm a researcher, I was just reporting on the new magitech and its use for the war effort. I'm not a soldier, or a diplomat. Surely someone better suited can be found to deal with the Necromancer.” Too late he realized what he was saying. He wasn't supposed to question his task, too much was at stake. You did your job as best you could, it was the only way to survive against the demons.
Mage Elias didn't seem angry at his question, he actually smiled. “What exactly did you get told?”
“Truthfully, almost nothing. Just that Necromancer Keir was revived, and Mage Von was injured. Now the Council is unsure if he is fit to keep the Necromancer properly controlled.”
The red mage rubbed his brow. “Bloody idiots, keeping everything so tightly under wraps we can't do our jobs.”
Aleksandar looked down at the dregs of his soup, pretending not to hear the remarks. For a lower level mage, such talk would ensure they never advanced again, and quite likely would be given the worst assignments possible.
“Here is the truth. Von revived the Necromancer without permission. In fact he was explicitly told to destroy the Heart, annihilate the corpse, and collapse the entire cavern system. He disobeyed orders and raised the bastard.”
“Why wasn't he stopped?”
“Because he's in demon territory, and at the time he was surrounded by an army of demons. He also pretended to be following orders until the very last minute when he lied to the mages under him and broke every single command we'd given him. Compounding his traitorous actions, he did not properly lock down the Necromancer. Instead of using the safeguards we spent three centuries developing, which wouldn't let Keir breathe without our permission, he used the bare minimum of them. And I believe he wouldn't have even done that much, if he could have convinced the other mages.
“Now we have to act like we planned this all along, and that Von has our complete support. The Necromancer seems to be playing along for now. And if the reports are accurate, an army of the dead is sweeping the region clean of demons.”
“The Necromancer has that much power?”
“Apparently. Recon reports had the demons scouring the area near the pass up until two week ago, preparing for a spring offensive. Now, there seems to only be a few dozen nestlings that are confused and scared. So we need someone who is clever and good at observing to see what in the Abyss is going on over there. You fit the bill. It helps that you aren't very threatening. Your orders to act as a liaison between the Necromancer and the Council fits you nicely and is completely accurate.”
Closing his eyes, Aleksandar wished he was anywhere else. Fighting in the front lines seemed safer than the task he was being given. “What if I discover the Necromancer is not following the Council's wishes?”
“You're a Blue Mage now, you can order Keir to do anything you wish and he'll have to obey you. Do not abuse this, do not give him any reason to think you're a threat. If you want him to do anything, ask politely and formally. If you believe the Necromancer is a threat or you are given orders by the Council, request to talk to him alone and order him to kill himself, have a pistol or knife at the ready when you do.”
It took him a moment to comprehend what he was being ordered to do. He'd never killed anything larger than a fly and blood made him nauseous. It was why he hadn't train to be a soldier or a medic. He'd learned to serve humanity in his own way. Now he was to be an assassin.
Sitting up straight, he looked the Red Mage in the eye and nodded. “Of course, I'll do my duty.”
“I know you will. You have an hour to wash and change, then you'll be heading out. You can sleep in the sled.”
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Keir
The tent was bitterly cold, with only a single braziers providing heat for the teacher, Elder Leo, and the priestess Kaja. The students were sitting at their benches with their thin black robes of shadow cloth, which gave them almost no protection from the elements. Yet none of them were shivering. A few rubbed their arms and hands trying to warm them up, but from the look of things it was a mild discomfort at worst.
Keir nodded in satisfaction. The children and teenagers were learning about as fast as he had hoped, able to see magic and weave it to create simple spells. Now for the first time they were learning necromancy. They wouldn't be able to raise the dead for several months, instead they were learning how to alter ghosts.
Each child was trying to change the weave of the guardian spirit that Keir had given them upon being accepted as a student. This would transform the shade from a faceless shadowy ghost, into something more personalized and useful.
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The younger children mostly worked on giving their spirits faces, colour, and expressions. The youngest one had managed to make a maternal looking figure in a yellow dress, with a friendly smile. Another had made theirs smaller and more childlike, with big brown eyes and a sling shot.
He moved to the back row where the older students were working. Katalia, the angry girl, was using her hands to help her mold the spirit into shape. She wasn't trying to make hers more human-like, she was creating a weapon. Long blades had replaced the ghost's forearms, and it was much bulkier with thick tree trunk like legs and no head.
“What will you do if you need it to pick something up?” Keir asked.
“It's meant to kill, not carry, Mistress,” Katalia replied.
“This is to be your servant and your guard, not a killing machine for slaughtering your enemies. What if you're injured and need to be carried to safety? Or something is grappling you, and stabbing it will likely cut you as well, what then?”
“I-” she closed her mouth, biting back whatever she had been about to say. “You're right, Mistress. I hadn't thought of that.”
He nodded and patted her on the shoulder. “You're skill with weaving magic is coming along nicely. Try to rebuild the hands with as much detail as possible, and consider giving it claws rather than nails.”
“Yes, Mistress.” The girl didn't smile, he had never seen her smile, but the anger that filled the girls eyes seemed to lessen somewhat.
Going to the next student, Armen, Keir nodded in appreciation at the fiery ghost that greeted him. He'd always enjoyed seeing how necromancy and fire could work together, and this was why. The appearance of the shade hadn't changed, faceless, robed, with no details or features to distinguish it. But now pale blue flames surrounded it like an aura. Reaching out, he could feel a pleasant warmth radiating off of it.
“Can you make it burn?” Keir asked.
“Yes, Mistress,” Armen said.
“Show me.”
“Burn,” the boy ordered.
For a few seconds the flames leaped into the air, and it took all his willpower to not jump back. Keir still pulled his hand away before it burned. Then the fire died down again, leaving his skin feeling hot and dry. He smiled at the student, impressed with the show.
“Excellent work.” Turning away he said, “Jaris, come here.”
His faithful assistant appeared out of thin air, making several students jump in surprise. “Yes, ma'am?”
“Give Armen some advice on how to make the flames last longer and burn hotter.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Jaris said.
Moving on, he came to the lame boy, Blau. The former scout was struggling to alter his ghost. There seemed to be a sword attached to the waist, but it was malformed and couldn't come out.
“What are you doing, boy?” Keir asked, his voice harsh.
“I'm trying to give the ghost a sword, Re- Mistress,” the boy replied.
“How long have you been working on it?”
“Since yesterday, Mistress.”
“And this is all you've accomplished?”
“Yes, Mistress.” The boy's voice was flat, purposefully devoid of all emotion to hide the anger and shame he had to be feeling.
“Have you seen the ghosts I've created?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what, boy?” he demanded. He was pushing Blau hard on purpose. Either the boy would break, or he'd use the anger to improve. Keir was fairly sure he knew how it would go.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Do my ghosts have swords on their belts?”
“No, Mistress. But they do have weapons.”
“Some do. But they are always holding them. It is complicated and ultimately pointless giving ghosts scabbards and weapons they can put down. Simply give them claws or make the weapon an extension of their hand. We don't have time to be fancy, we need them to work. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good. Don't waste time. If something doesn't work, try something different that will get you similar results. If you do it again, I'll find a job suitable for your simple-mindedness.”
From the look in his eyes, if Blau had the ability, Keir would be dead. That was fine, the boy wouldn't make the same mistake again. Too many mages, and people, never reached their potential because they focused on one thing even as it failed, rather than looking at other options. From the way everyone was pointedly not looking at them, the entire class had learned an important lesson.
Going back to the younger students, he began giving them advice and tasks to work on. He even allowed himself an occasional smile. The students were doing well, and soon enough they would be able to create their own ghosts. Come spring, he would have the first true necromancers in three centuries, ready to fight by his side.
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Standing up from the latrine, Keir cursed as the infernal belt he had to wear shifted uncomfortably on his hips. The thick cotton pad, filled with sweet smelling herbs, that attached to the belt was awkwardly pressed against his crotch to catch the blood which insisted on leaking out of him. He wondered if it would ever feel natural.
Stepping out of the simple building that gave people some privacy, he went to the long washing trough and pumped out some water for his hands. The harsh soap provided by the church felt gritty and greasy, nothing like the expensive soaps he'd once used when he'd ruled the continent.
Some people looked at him oddly, Keir ignored them. Commoners may not believe it, but even former emperors and powerful necromancers had to obey the demands of nature.
Walking towards the Lleial camp, flanked by his ghostly guardsmen, Keir was very aware of the looks he was getting. Word of what had happened in the city had spread, as had the strange and terrifying ghosts that had risen up. It didn't help that the Strix liked to fly over the camp, roosting on the buildings and rocks, filling the air with child-like laughter.
Before, he'd been looked at with awe, fear and respect. Now the people were even more distant. Some stayed back due to wonder at the miracle worker who raised armies and made the demons flee in terror. Others were terrified of the evil necromancer who raised monsters and destroyed cities. He'd experienced similar three hundred years ago as emperor. But then he'd had a court, advisors, friends, and family who, while respectful, realized he was merely human and treated him as such.
Now, he had Jaris and Von. And the mage could hardly be called a friend.
In the Lleial camp the people acted very differently.
“Regua!” the people cheered as he walked past.
“Regua, please bless my child,” a woman asked, holding up a toddler.
“Are you hungry, Regua? I have fresh soup, the best you'll find in camp,” a vendor said.
“Regua, when will we march on the demons?”
“Praise Regua! The time of reckoning is here!”
“Regua, my father is ill!”
“Regua, heal me and I'll fight the demons again.”
Keir and his guards moved through the throng, focusing solely on his destination. If he spent time talking and blessing everyone, he'd never leave. Once he was done his business, he'd take a little time to talk to the people and pat the children on the head. That would be enough to placate the crowd.
He finally reached the medical tent and stepped inside, getting away from the crowd. With a thought his guards turned insubstantial and vanished, ready to react if he was attacked, but out of the way. The healers and some of the patients bowed as he went past, he nodded and smiled in return. He'd need to say a few words to each of them before he left.
Floria was lying in bed, looking frustrated. “Regua, you didn't have to come here. If you need anything I would have gone to you.”
“You were stabbed in the stomach, and then insisted on staying out of bed for far too long,” he said, giving her a small smile. He'd heard how she had spent much of the long ritual guarding the protective runes, and taking part in a religious ceremony with the other Lleial, instead of letting herself heal. “You will obey the healers, until they say you're healthy.”
“Yes, Regua.”
“Now, while you're resting, I want eleven people to act as my bodyguards. We shouldn't need them until the spring, but they and you, need to train so we aren't caught off guard like last time.”
“Won't eleven guards cause problems with the Dogs?”
“Frankly, I don't care. My dead outnumber the living. And if it came down to a choice between myself and the Council, a quarter of the people would back me, about half would support the Council or run in terror, and the rest would hide until the screaming is over. And the army is evenly split between us. Do you think the Council would openly break with me with odds like that?” He didn't mention that it would be easy for Von to simply command him into obedience. He had some ideas how to counter that problem, if it came to it. And with the coming of winter, he could start work on breaking the geas.
“No, they wouldn't unless they have no choice.”
“Right. So I'm going to continue working with them. It's in everyone's best interest that we act as allies, and after all I've given them, I don't think they'll begrudge me a small number of bodyguards. So you have a week to come up with a team and plan for their training.” He pointed a finger at her. “You will not join them, or leave this bed until the healers say you may. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Regua. But tomorrow morning, you will have your guards waiting outside your door,” she told him.
He nodded. “Very well. Now get some rest, I want you guarding my back again as soon as possible.”