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The Necromancer

Her back was to him, but it was unmistakably her. The tall, muscular figure. The long, black hair professionally held back in a thick braid, heavy chainmail, forged by his hands just like the suit he wore now, and even punctured in the same place-

In the same place she took a sword to the chest.

For you.

How could you let her do this!?

It should have been you!

Riggs stumbled as the memories of anger, disappointment and loss bombarded him, tears in his eyes.

She whirled as he approached, sword flashing out of its scabbard to cut into the chainmail protecting his abdomen and then drawn across his side as she flowed around him. He sputtered from the impact, chainmail links sundering beneath her blade. Riggs instinctively stepped left and brought up the plate armour on his right arm to help deflect the heavy downward chop that followed immediately after. He felt the shock of the blow through his arm and heard the metal screech as it deformed around the blade.

Promise me Riggs.

He stepped away and spun towards her, drawing the longsword from its scabbard and across his body, barely deflecting a thrust aimed at his throat. They stepped back from each other and drew their daggers. As they circled, both adopted defensive stances that mirrored the other’s.

Promise me... you won’t let me become one of those things.

The front of her chainmail was still covered in dried blood and carried the puncture close to her heart, but he now saw so much more wrong with her. The softly angular features of her face were lost beneath thickened bone that threatened to break the skin, and her clavicle had distended to form a gorget around her neck. Rich hazel eyes that once looked at him with love had turned glassy and stared at him impassively. Her once warm, ochre skin now stretched thinly over her skeleton and had paled to an unnatural, almost translucent amber. Sharp spurs of bone protruded from her elbows and knees, and the flesh of her fingers peeled back from where the bones elongated into claws. Finally, a strange, amulet hung from her neck, a perfectly spherical onyx set within an ornate cage fashioned from a red-gold metal.

Promise me, so I know I won’t hurt anyone I love.

Riggs blinked back tears. “What have they done to you?”

Promise me!

“Oh yes,” her voice was an unfamiliar rasp and her face twisted into a sneer that it had never worn in life, “How I missed this.”

Riggs trembled as emotions flooded his mind: fear, sadness, disgust, trepidation. But as he looked upon the face of his wife and saw its once compassionate features twisted into petty hatred, his heart burned only with rage.

“Shaya!” He roared, “Give me the strength to punish this wicked spirit!”

And he charged the monstrosity that had been his wife.

Alone.

Noctessa chased after Riggs, caught off-guard by his sudden outburst. She nocked an arrow and levelled her bow at the monster he rushed towards, looking to put it down before he did anything irreversibly stupid. With her eyes locked on the target, she didn’t see the statue as it crashed into her, shield first.

The shot went wide as the druid hurtled through the air, hitting the stone floor and rolling for several more feet before stopping. Her heavy wooden bow snapped from the unmitigated tumble and arrows of various shapes and sizes tumbled from her quiver across the distance she was thrown. She pushed herself up with one arm, wobbling as she shook her head to clear it.

Shaya’s guardian completed its pursuit, sword falling in a beheading strike. Lyraal slid in the way, deflecting the sword with their staff and using the blow’s momentum to flow into a powerful overhead swing that slammed into the statue’s sword arm. Silvery metal met marble with a reverberating crack, and small fractures webbed out from the impact site.

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“Get up!” Lyraal growled, arms numb from the force of the blow. “Go help Riggs!”

The statue stepped in with a defensive bash with its shield, but Lyraal danced lightly away from it and the guardian’s sword arm. Rather than pursue them, the statue lunged forward and delivered a powerful kick toward Noctessa, who barely rolled out of the way. Golden tattoos flared with energy as she came up on her feet, axe and dagger in hand. “You cannot... beat this thing alone.”

Before the statue could recover from its kick, Lyraal delivered a powerful two-handed swing into the heel it stood upon. More fractures formed, but the statue remained standing despite its awkward footing. Noctessa lunged in, chipping the statue with a blow from her axe as it whirled at Lyraal with a backhanded swing.

The guardian threw its weight behind every attack, its momentum dangerous but difficult to redirect once committed. Noctessa and Lyraal took turns baiting it and danced around its attacks, the other landing blows where possible. But they did little more than chip at it, their weapons insufficient to the task of bringing it down.

“Go!” Lyraal said, taking a few steps away from the statue to lead it away from where Riggs battled his wife. “This corrupt guardian cannot kill me, and we need Riggs’ strength here.”

Noctessa snarled, but broke off and moved towards Riggs, flexing her left hand to pump more feeling back into it.

Andromeda’s body blurred from blow to parry to riposte, Riggs unable to match its speed. He fought defensively, the enemy’s blade leaving only minor cuts where he was less armoured, but he was running out of ground to give. The creature was unnaturally strong and he failed to batter aside its attacks to create any large openings. He needed to conserve his strength for that decisive strike, but while he tired and bled from his injuries, the creature did not.

“This soul is skilled,” his wife said, wearing a casual smile as its blade opened another wound on Riggs’ injured leg. “Oh yes, I like her. I will make her a general and what an army she will lead...”

“Shut up!” Riggs yelled, trying to stoke his rage, but it faded as more of his blood trickled away.

“Did you know that the world’s spirits just remain here, now? Wandering aimlessly, without anything to guide them to peace...”

Now or never, Riggs.

Sneering, his wife stepped in with a powerful swing. Rather than defend himself, he simply countered with his own attack, throwing his entire weight behind the swing. His stroke bit deep into a bone spur, but despite all of his strength, it held fast. The creature’s attack shattered the blade he forged for his wife and broken steel clattered across the stone floor. As Riggs stumbled back, tears forming, his shoulders hit the wall and the creature lunged. Its sword drove straight for his broken heart, a point where the chains were already damaged, punching through them and then biting into his ribs. He gasped and dropped his weapons, grasping the blade with both hands as he tried to pull it out.

“You stupid thug,” it hissed, dropping its dagger to push the sword harder into his chest with both hands, “I am a necromancer of the highest caliber in a world ripe with souls for the taking! I was there when your precious goddess was murdered, reaping the souls of her immortal spawn! How did you think you could win?”

“You may fight with Andromeda’s skills,” Riggs said through gritted teeth, “but if you knew her memories, you would know... she trained us to... never fight alone.”

Noctessa leapt through the air with a lion’s roar, her axe chopping the creature’s right arm off below the elbow, avoiding the chainmail and enhanced bone entirely. Her dagger plunged deep into its neck above the hideous gorget and the blade snapped off as she wrenched it violently against clavicle.

She stepped closer to the creature, grabbing it as it reeled in confusion and used that grip to anchor her flurry of axe blows. The first strike smashed into the creature’s face, barely chipping its skull. It blocked the second strike with its remaining arm. Her third strike chopped into the creature’s thigh. Her fourth bit into the same spot and tore deeper, mangling the creature’s knee.

The body did not react to the pain or trauma caused by the mauling, but it stood paralyzed for seconds as Andromeda’s training had not prepared her for this scenario.

Yet, she was adaptable.

As Noctessa’s axe fell back towards the creature’s knee, it caught her wrist and gripped it with unnatural strength. A muffled cry escaped her lips as the creature’s claws stabbed into her wrist and blood spurted out. Then, with the remains of its right arm, the creature swept the sharpened bone spur across Noctessa’s face. She managed to roll with the blow and protect her eyes, but the spur carved a gash from her jaw to her forehead.

The creature twisted her wrist and the druid grimaced, her body forced to follow where the wrist led. Her axe dropped from limp, bloody fingers and she lurched as her wrist continued to twist, leaving her exposed. The spur stabbed down at her. It punched through her gambeson and into her shoulder, biting into the bone there and rending muscle and tendon.

She cried out in agony.