"To know is to grow."
- an unknown mage
"With knowledge comes power and with power comes access to more knowledge!"
- Fredsrtia Ret De Fluer, the 'Mage of the North"
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Stultum awoke with a start, sweat pouring down his body as he had dreamed of the dark. Those eyes still haunted him. He shuddered at the recollection of them, shifting into a ball on the mattress upon which he laid. Eventually, after recovering mentally enough he glanced about the room. It was his room of his manor. Various alchemic tools and ingredients lay about on desks, and several books lay in either stacks or piles, a few of them open to various pages.
He looked to his left, to the window as the moon glowed faintly behind a curtain. A snore caught his attention, his personal guard Borie sat in a chair across the room as his chest rose and fell silently. Stultum sighed and began attempting to stand up. As he did, his sleeve moved up, revealing a wound from a flying arrow that nicked him. The memories of that day flashed through once more, and he held his head until it passed. He laid back in his bed and looked back at his ceiling, sighing hoping to fall back to sleep.
The room door opened and in stepped an elderly man with a book in his hand. "Ah, you're awake!" The old man smiled, as Stultum sat up to be respectful of the presence.
"Y-yes I am." Stultum eyed the figure, not recognizing him, and he knew most of the important figures of the empire.
"You gave many people quite a scare you know, the king even was worried."
Stultum gave no response.
A wry smile came onto the newcomer's lips "Ah well, is as is. Now let me check your vitals and such." The elderly man approached.
The moment he entered, Stultum felt nervous, and as he approached he knew why. Those eyes were not of a kindly old healer, but a seasoned killer. His smile, kind but his eyes perverse with death and murder. Stultum wanted to scream as the images of the horror he witnessed and the present overlapped but found his voice mute by magic. The man came to the bedside as Stultum found himself paralyzed with a dagger at the ready, and just as his hand twitched, red liquid splattered into Stultum's vision, and the rest he saw not.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
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In a dark room in a certain place, stood three doors. One by one these doors open, and with each stepped a lone figure. They seemingly sized up one another in the absent light, silent before they in union made strange hand symbols.
"So we are all present."
Silence was the response to the voice before another spoke.
"Is it done?"
"But of course, the preparations are ready."
"Hm hm, rightly so. Shall we move?"
"Not yet, we already have a date planned."
"When?"
"A certain anniversary."
A smile crept up on two of the three figures faces "Peace is overwritten anyways."
"Though I do have a few things rolling at this moment."
"As to be expected, ends must be made before events take the stage."
The three figures chuckled while nodding and departed the dark room that was in a certain place. The sole visible symbol beside the dark cloaks was a chain dangling on their person. A snake through a heart. A mark that would reign fear in the hearts of men once more.
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The skeleton poked at a curious thing in the place it currently resided at. It was thingy-like and thinnish. It reminded it of the outside of the place mother always did the still thing at.
Reshiram glanced from his book, slightly annoyed the skeleton once more got up while he attempted to teach it magic, poking at a houseplant of all things like it was a revolutionary object or an ancient item of great power.
Two months had passed since Lord Tenebaria conveniently 'left' society to live off the land in some remote part. Two months since no elf would dare challenge Reshiram's claim. Two weeks since he learned the skeleton could wield its mana, something surprising for a basic skeleton. Reshiram had, by this point, surmised it was due to the magical nature of the elgasia.
Quickly the skeleton learned how to move its mana within its bones, though it was likely due to being how literally empty-headed it was. Of course, the problem he faced was also from that same thing, its bloody attention span was worse than a goldfish at times, or like a vulture to prey at the most mundane and ridiculous things imaginable.
Slowly Reshiram began regretting attempting this experiment, even though it was mostly done for fun, he felt he could not back out now. Such was the marks influence over him. He held the bridge of his nose with one hand, a book of arcane text in the other as he took in deep breaths. Over his several thousand years, patience was not a virtue unto him.Thus as he looked back at the, idiotic and no better than a toddler, skeleton he scowled "By the light of Coampsa will you sit down in this chair so I can teach you magic or so help me Olgarth I will turn you to ash and experiment." The skeleton seemingly ignored him once more reminding him that a skeleton is just that, a skeleton. He flung his head back and shut his eyes, his long black hair nearly touching the floor.
After ten minutes of this, the skeleton suddenly ceased in its prodding of the poor plant and suddenly sat down in the chair, causing one of Reshiram's eyes to open, staring back. After a few seconds, Reshiram jumped slightly in surprise not having expected the skeleton to stop. After all, it spent three days and nights poking the door.
Reshiram sat there silent for a few minutes, making sure the skeleton wasn't simply going to walk away again. After mentally nodding to himself, Reshiram opened his mouth, only for the skeleton to stand up and walk to the nearest bookshelf eyeing the contents. Reshiram sat there mouth open for a few seconds, then slammed his head onto the desk, defeated. It was nap time and he was irritated. Truth be told, the skeleton should be thankful it wasn't turned to ash. That is, if it understood the concept of dying or knowing what ash is of course.
Very curious, for a skeleton that is.