James shivered as the winds of the night brushed against him, the cold biting through his woolen cloak. Regardless, he pressed on the path up the mountain. A part of him wanted to call it for the night and go back to accompany Dahlia to the hut. Another part reminded him of the importance of getting his physical done. The sooner he got it done, the sooner he was at peace of mind.
Thankfully for him, the night sky was parted enough to allow Luna and Callisto to shine their bluish glow upon the small mountain, allowing James to see properly on his way up.
‘I wonder if Nathan is still here,’ James idly thought. It would be convenient to find the Wizard up here with Malik since James wanted to discuss potential castings for the future. Even though he had just gotten both Jump and Instant Reflex, James felt as if he could fit in another in his arsenal. His daily reserves had improved these past months, going from four a day to five.
‘Best we hold from adding more castings,’ Faust commented. ‘You already have Carapace, Power Strike, Instant Reflex, and Jump. Not to mention the cryomancy spells you learned, Ice Lance and Summon Ice. For the moment, we have more castings than reserves. Not good for someone who isn’t a Mage.’
James frowned at that but didn’t argue. He knew better than to question a veteran like Faust, who had years of experience.
‘Good point,’ James mentally acknowledged. ‘I guess we can hold off until I earn another spell reserve.’
‘More than one reserve,’ Faust corrected. ‘At least two more before you even think about getting another. Don’t forget, Physical Castings affect more than your ley lines.’
The spirit was correct. James had learned the hard way that Physical Castings had another cost to them outside of the magic in his internal ley lines. There was an energy cost to them. Not the magical kind, no. It was the biological, metabolic kind.
Stamina, vigor, whatever it was called. That was what Physical Castings relied on outside of his ley lines. They determined how strong or long a casting would be. James had learned this the second time he used Carapace, back on Aldren before it burned down. He had nearly died due to the heavy cost of keeping Carapace on that entire day. If it wasn’t for Haggard dragging him off the island, he would have surely died.
Back then, James had initially thought it to be the stab wound that brought him down. He was surprised to find out it wasn’t. Dahlia had explained to him a long time ago that he had simply collapsed out of malnourishment. Apparently, Carapace was a casting that was only supposed to be used sparingly. If one were to overdo it—or, in his case, leave it active for the day—the body would simply wither away whatever energy it had left before it gave out.
James had to learn how to ‘turn it off’ soon after that explanation.
Still, it didn’t stop his body’s metabolism from increasing like crazy. Ever since Midsommar, James had to eat twice as much to keep up with his body’s natural energy consumption. It didn’t help that Instant Reflex was burning through his stamina and vigor effortlessly.
‘You think it has something to do with that… revival we went through?’ James asked.
‘Hard to say. It’s clear your body went through a great change after what happened,’ Faust muttered. ‘What exactly changed is hard to tell.’
‘My cryomancy has improved, but I doubt it’s to the point where it would cause my metabolism to skyrocket like it has,’ James thought. ‘You don’t think that—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Faust interrupted.
‘I’m just saying. If there’s even a chance…’
‘There isn’t. I would’ve noticed immediately,’ Faust assured. ‘There is no way in hel that that thing implanted another spirit in your body.’
James stopped his walk for a moment. He mulled over those words, his mind going back to what he had seen that night. Back when he thought he was crossing over to Helheim itself. He was met in that endless white plan by Gryff. The Lumen Knight he had fought last year. The first man he had ever killed.
“I’ll see you later, kvitravn.”
Those words were burned into his memory. The idea of Gryff’s spirit being implanted into his body–not unlike Faust–was a haunting thought.
Then again, James and Faust hadn’t sensed any presence in his body for the past four months. There weren’t any indicators that the knight was a part of him.
‘Besides, Malik would have probably said something if he sensed something like that,’ James reassured himself. The necromancer had told him these past months that there wasn’t much unusual going on with James. Outside of his increased metabolism and strength, there wasn’t a trace of another spirit in him. That at least gave him some respite.
“Speaking of Malik…” James continued his walk up the mountain, which was soon coming to an end. He could see the cliff that oversaw the town below, as well as the endless horizon of the black sea. This was also the same place he had come to spread his father’s ashes a year back.
James turned to his far left, his focus on the cave entrance that led deeper into the mountain. Its small, almost unnoticeable entrance was lit with torches that were supported by long sticks. Beside them was a raven guard, his blue tabard marked with a white raven.
James attempted to remember the guard’s name in those few seconds of walking. Not long after his clan had formed, he made an effort to memorize all the men who served under his banner. Granted, it was a very difficult task. Especially with how many new recruits had come by these past months. Still, James wanted to put himself through the effort. He himself knew how important it was that he got to know these men. Especially if they were putting their lives on the line for him.
‘Besides, I’ve been through my fair share of jobs where the managers never bother to remember my name. Especially that one guy who only called me by a whistle and snap.’
That incident was kinda funny at the time, but it had gotten old quick. James didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes as that employer.
The young clan leader noted that the guard ahead was missing half an arm, making him stand out in a way. There was also the unruly black hair that was visibly underneath his helmet. Add those two defining features together and…
“Jonas, right?” James called out as he walked his way to the cave.
“Oh, Jarl Holter!” The guard snapped out of whatever daze he was in, his eyes focusing on James. “Yessir, I’m Jonas Harris. Most people refer to me by my last name, sir.”
“Is Malik here?” James asked.
“Yessir! He’s been here all day, actually,” Harris revealed. “At least, that’s what the last guard posted here told me…”
“Good man,” James said as he patted the guard on the shoulder. “I won’t be long.”
“Yessir, I’ll keep watch!” Harris called out as James walked into the cave.
James would walk along the narrow hallway of stone, which was lit with candles and magical orbs of light, a result of the Candlelight spell. James could feel a sense of nostalgia from the hallway. He remembered the day he went through here the first time, Dahlia hot on his tail as he ran for his life.
The memory was almost distant and faint, despite it transpiring a year back. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that so much had happened since that fateful day. It had all blurred into one long memory. One that barely gave James a break in between conflicts.
Marauders. Lumen Knights. Orcs. Abominable creatures. James had faced it all.
‘The only thing missing is a Kasani assassin,’ Faust mused.
‘Don’t jinx us, asshole,’ James responded.
Both man and spirit had a chuckle at that, their small banter ending as soon as the hall came to an end. James could see how the narrow stone hall opened up ahead, revealing a large chamber that was lit with floating torches. The plentiful light was enough for James to see two of the room’s occupants, both of which were occupied with the pool of water that was in the room’s center.
The first man was dressed in wine red robes that were clearly showing their age and use, as evidenced by the frayed ends and the visible tears. He wore a pointed hat that had its brim and crooked tip sewn back together, the silver stitching reflecting the torchlight. At the base of the hat were multiple golden pins that shone and glinted, even in the sparse light. This man was none other than Nathan Arkanus, the Wizard who had given James his first casting.
The second man wore a black cloak over his dark purple robes, his sleeves rolled back to reveal intricate tattoos. Some of them seemed to have a practical use, as they glowed with magical power. Others served nothing more than represent visages of death and despair, showcasing skulls and wispy souls of the damned. These tattoos ran their way up the necromancer’s face, where they developed into nothing more than faint black lines that ran across his gaunt cheekbones. The necromancer had his face turned away, but James could still see the tattoos and the pale—almost white—blond hair Malik Ymir sported.
Both Sorcerers were standing side by side, their focus on the black pool of water in front of them. The same pool of water where James had been summoned all those months ago. The same one that was currently being used by the necromancer to seal an artifact of great power.
James moved his gaze to the pillar of water that was extending out of the pool, magical runes burned into its surface as it contained a small, glowing orb. Upon closer inspection, the orb was actually an eye. An eye whose iris was a crystalline purple, the pupil shaped unnaturally like that of a four pointed star. Which glowed a blinding white.
‘Beholder eye,’ James recalled its name.
It was the symbol of the Mad King, an old children’s tale that was supposedly myth. A story that was supposed to warn of ambition and desperation. Yet here it was in front of James. Taken from the Sorcerer who had threatened Vindis back in Midsommar. The same Sorcerer Seamus had killed.
James recalled the first time he came across the cursed object. He had at first refused the idea of Seamus facing off against someone with such a distinct power. That was until he saw the site of the battle itself. He remembered the destroyed room, its floors and ceiling ripped apart and splintered beyond recognition.
It had all been burnt to a char, with signs of fighting everywhere. There were even spikes of ice that protruded from the ground, a couple of them half melted. All of it was accompanied by the overpowering scent of blood and ozone.
In the middle of it all was the head of the man Seamus had decapitated. His lone eye had stared out at James with a look that seemed to accuse him.
The clan leader held back a shudder at that mental image. All that mattered now was that the threat was gone. That the danger had passed. Now, all they had to do was study the eye and figure out how the Sorcerer had managed to be cursed with them.
“How’s progress?” James asked as he approached the two spellcasters. He couldn’t help but stare at the eye in front of him. Despite Malik casting a blind spell on the pillar, James still felt like he was being watched by it.
“Nothing substantial,” Malik muttered as he stood up straight. “It’s difficult to learn and study it in its current state. Without it being attached to ley lines, the eye is basically useless.”
“We managed to learn a couple things out of it,” Nathan mentioned. “We know how it casts spells without words of power.”
“Ah yes, that,” Malik shifted his hand at the pillar of water, causing the eyeball to turn around. The necromancer pointed at the exposed nerve endings that were hanging out the eyeball’s rear. “You see those exposed nerves hanging out? Quite normal for regular eyes like ours. However, do you see those peculiar long ones?”
James looked at where the necromancer was gesturing towards. He could see that there were a couple of abnormally long strings hanging out. Now that he was focusing on it, he could see that their ends were barbed.
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“Normal eyes don’t have those,” Malik pointed out. “With some deduction with Nathan here—and some dissection of that Sorcerer—we found out that these barbs dig deep into the skull, reaching the user’s brain. We concluded that the eye receives direct thoughts as commands, which would explain the mist that Sorcerer used during the Midsommar battle. It also could explain why he was able to cast spells without using their words of power.”
Nathan nodded. “Add it with what I saw during the fight, it seems like the pupil forms the runes whilst the user casts it with their thoughts.”
James shivered a little at the thought of Malik dissecting the corpse of that marauder Sorcerer. Even if he was a terrible person, the thought of a manic necromancer splitting his skull open sent a chill down the clan leader’s spine.
“Knowledge is power,” James muttered.
‘Then again, some power is best left unfound.’
“I suppose so,” Malik sighed. “But I was expecting this to be my breakthrough. A Beholder Eye, a name that sends lumen peasants running in fear. A mythical eye that even the King of Stars fought and killed for. A legend that overshadowed the man who had summoned it in the first place.”
“King of Stars?” James questioned.
“Ah yes, you know him as the Mad King,” Malik muttered. “Before all that Beholder business, he was known as the King of Stars.”
“He was unlike his brothers, who were all warriors,” Nathan spoke up. He had enthusiasm in his voice, like a child talking about his idol. “He was an exceptional Wizard who revolutionized all magic. If it weren’t for his dealings with the demons from the Aether, he would’ve been a legendary figure that could stand shoulder to shoulder with the greats like Juniper or Caelus—when Caelus was still a mortal.”
“Tch! Don’t compare him to those ass-kissing shills!” Malik shouted. “He was on an entirely different level. He didn’t have to grovel before the Gods for his knowledge. He was the King of Stars, a man who harnessed their power and made it his own!”
“Hold up,” James stopped the argument before him. “How come I’ve never heard of him by that name? Was his dealings with the demons that bad?”
He had heard about the Mad King in passing, more as a warning tale for those who grew more ambitious with their ventures. James remembered Seamus’ retelling of that story. Ever since, he had only ever heard of the Mad King being remembered by that name.
“It was enough to warrant intervention from the other Kings and the Gods,” Malik revealed. “The Gods cannot intervene with mortal affairs unless it directly affects them. That’s how you know what he did was bad. As for his name, well it’s not commonly known. Only commendable spell casters will recall him by the King of Stars.”
“Well, I already knew him as such,” Nathan pointed out. “I’m not that commendable.”
“Bah, you’re commendable enough,” Malik waved off. “Despite being self-taught, you’re surprisingly good at what you do.”
“Oh. Well, thank you,” Nathan said, stunned. He seemed genuinely appreciative.
“Well, I doubt you’re here to talk history with us,” Malik said to James as he ignored Nathan. “I’m guessing it’s that time?”
“You know it,” James responded with a sigh. “Do I need to sit or…?”
“No need,” Malik replied as he approached James. His dark eyes examined the clan leader, almost as if he were studying him. “I’ve done it enough times to where I could perform the deed in my sleep.”
“That’s…good?”
Malik only smiled as he placed a hand on James’ chest.
“Descry.”
James felt what could almost be described as pins and needles shifting all across his body, his muscles tensing up as Malik’s spell washed over him. His vision went black for a moment. In that small moment, James could feel the ley lines in his body, their connections spread across his chest, arms, legs, and even head. He could feel Malik’s presence inside them, his magic scrutinizing every inch of him.
It was only for a moment, yet James felt very, very exposed. It was like being laid bare in front of someone else despite being fully dressed. James had to convince himself that it was like a doctor’s appointment. Like he was getting a physical. Yet even that was hard to put into perspective. Especially when it involved magic that peered through his own soul.
After what seemed like forever, Malik’s magic passed through fully. James’ vision returned, and his lungs finally managed to let out the breath he had been holding for the past couple of seconds.
“Nothing abnormal,” Malik said with a smile. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Yeah…” James breathed out. He couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at the smug look on the necromancer’s face. It was as if Malik enjoyed putting James through this.
“Well, I best be going now,” Nathan called out. The Wizard had been packing up his chalks and potions into his satchel during that entire ordeal. “I must wake up early tomorrow to catch my ship to Vindis. My shop needs me, even if it’s half burnt.” He tipped the wide brim of his hat to both men. “By the way, James, that reminds me. The shop contacted me the other day and wanted to tell you to drop by to grab your set of armor. It seems like Rockford has finished repairing it.”
“I’ll get to it when I visit Vindis,” James responded. “I’ll even pay him for the trouble.”
“Of course. I’ll let them know,” Nathan gave James a wave before he left the chamber. This left the young clan leader alone with the necromancer, who was already back to examining the Beholder Eye.
“Are you going to be here all night?” James asked.
“Yes,” Malik answered curtly. “Actually, wait. I need a favor from you.”
“What is it?” James furrowed his brow at the mention of ‘favor’. It could mean a variety of things, from carrying corpses to bringing him a certain type of ingredient from the black market in Vindis. Whatever it was, James had to mentally prepare himself.
“You don’t mind me raising undead, do you?” Malik asked. “I know we talked about it, but I must know your limit.”
“You can only raise enemy corpses from the dead. Specifically, ones that we had to kill in self-defense,” James repeated the terms of their pact from back when they had met.
“That’s it?” Malik asked.
“Do you have corpses you haven’t raised yet?” James asked. He felt disgusted at such a question. It felt immoral to allow the necromancer to store dead bodies around the island. His excuse was that it was a precaution, as Malik could only summon a set number of undead for a certain amount of time. It would make sense that he would keep some bodies around just in case the need arose.
There was also the fact that the necromancer could enchant the bodies in a way that could protect them from being possessed by the abominations. While James wasn’t sure if it truly worked, he hadn’t seen any crystalized monsters in the past few months. So something was working.
“Only one I intend to raise,” Malik said. “However, I need your permission to do the deed.”
“Why? If they were an enemy, you shouldn’t need it,” James pointed out. He almost wanted to leave the conversation then and there. He already felt sick at the discussion at hand.
“It’s a Lumen Knight killed during the Vindis incident,” Malik revealed. “I found a way to break the enchantment Delphine bestowed upon her. I just need your permission to break it so I can raise her.”
“Jesus Christ,” James couldn’t help but curse aloud. “Why? Why the fuck would you need to?”
“She’s the perfect candidate for a specific ritual of mine,” Malik explained as he swept back his hair. “Her sacrifice would benefit us greatly, I assure you.”
“What are you intending to do with her?” James asked. He dialed back the hostility in his voice. Hell, he had to force himself not to yell at the necromancer. “Better yet, how are you going to break the enchantment?”
“When the Golden Goddess enchants her knights, she makes it so necromancers like me can’t take their souls. It’s to allow them to pass peacefully into whatever afterlife she has promised them,” Malik explained all of this in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone, which only seemed to irritate James more. “In short, now that the knight’s soul is gone, Delphine’s blessing isn’t as strong as before. Granted, it won’t be easy to break it, but if done right, we could have a strong pawn on our side.”
James wanted to tell him no. To tell Malik to shove his idea up his ass. Yet he couldn’t.
‘Is this any different from the undead he already commands over?’ James thought to himself. ‘No! It’s still wrong. Even without the soul around. Right?’
‘To be fair,’ Faust spoke up. ‘Most of the undead Malik raised still have some essence of their soul around. It’s how he was able to summon the specters during the Battle for Vindis.’
‘But that was a desperate measure. We were in a dire situation,’ James argued.
‘Who’s to say we won’t be in one again?’ Faust countered, ‘The Lumen Knight he’s raising won’t be the same one. It’ll be a husk, like most undead. Better if that gets sent to fight rather than someone we know.’
James bit his tongue at that. The spirit was getting on his nerves. Still, he had a point. The dead were already dead. Malik wasn’t chaining the knight’s soul to her body, not like what the abominations did with their hosts. It was only a husk. A body with no mind or soul. It would be better to have that fight on the frontlines rather than someone he knew and cared about.
“Dammit,” James muttered through clenched teeth. “Fine. Do what you want.”
“Really?” Malik asked with a raised eyebrow. “No arguing about morals? No pointless shouting? Perhaps you’ve changed your views on necromancy?” He had a smile growing on the edge of his lips, a sight that pissed James off.
“Don’t push your luck,” James spat out as he turned to the exit. Without another word, he left the chamber, leaving the necromancer by himself.
Even without looking, James could tell that Malik was grinning.
----------------------------------------
The night sky was pitch black, a common sight in the Frost season. It was why most people called it a day whenever the sunset, as the night was far too dark and uninviting to be considered safe to waltz through. But for a certain clan leader, the dark night was nothing more than a leisurely stroll.
James sighed as he guided the candlelight orb around through his walk in the woods, his eyes scanning the endless woods that surrounded his path from the mountain. The small orb of light was a courtesy from Nathan, who had cast it for James before he had departed to Yorktown.
As for why James was glancing around like a paranoid, well, there wasn’t really an explanation. He wasn’t expecting wolves to hunt him down, especially since the orcs had nearly hunted all of them down. James had to convince Horuk not to completely wipe the island of all wildlife. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for the entire ecology system to die out completely because of him.
Perhaps it was instinct to be wary of the night. Or perhaps he was half expecting the abomination to return in full force, to try to assimilate itself with his body once more.
‘Try not to get too carried away with that thought. The last thing I need is another nightmare visit from it.’
James shuddered at the prospect of meeting that thing in his dreams again, his mind reeling back from the images of deformed corpses and twisted limbs. That frostbitten skin.
“Ugh,” James muttered with disgust. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he willed those memories away. For now, he didn’t have to deal with that thing. For now, he could rest at home with someone who he trusted with his life.
The young clan leader stopped at the hut’s door, his eyes wandering to the security runes that were burned into the door frame. They glowed a soft green, indicating that he was no threat to the humble shack. He smiled a little before he pushed the door open, his fingers snapping to dispel the candlelight spell that had followed him here.
“I was wondering when you’d be back,” Dahlia called out. The Shaman was resting at the fireplace, her hands shifting the boiling pot of water by the flames. She poured it into two wooden cups, both of which were filled with herbs and leaves.
“I would’ve made dinner, but I’m feeling a bit exhausted now,” the Shaman muttered. “There’s still some dried fruits in the chest if you want anything to eat.”
“No thanks, I’m not really hungry. Tea is perfect,” James responded with a smile as he sat down by the fire. He took a heated cup from Dahlia, the scent of mint reaching his nostrils. He took a sip of the tea, and its herbal taste was almost comforting for him. By the time its warmth reached his chest, James felt like he was at home.
“That hit the spot,” James sighed as he set the steaming mug down.
“So, how was your monthly physical?” Dahlia asked.
“Same old, same old,” James waved off the question. “Nothing important.”
“I figured as much,” Dahlia muttered as she sipped her tea. James could see how the Shaman scooted closer to him, her hand moving ever so closer to his. “I suppose that leaves us with loads of free time this week, no?”
“Well, there’s still the meeting in Vindis,” James mentions. He drank the last of his tea, his breath coming out in a huff of exhaustion. He turned to Dahlia, only to see the Shaman closer than before. She was nearly face to face with him, her cheeks darkening with blush. She had her mug set far aside, its contents empty.
“I also have to deal with the Jarl from Olafson since he wants to try and renegotiate terms,” James went on, ignoring Dahlia’s hand as it slid over his thigh and waist. The Shaman slowly crawled onto his lap, her hands moving up the clan leader’s body.
“Then there’s more shit I got to deal with, specifically with—”
“James,” Dahlia whispered. Her hands cupped his cheeks, shifting his head so that his eyes met hers. James couldn’t help but shut up at the sound of her voice, his cheeks growing warm in her cool hands.
Dahlia was positioned above him, the fireplace behind her somehow growing in intensity as the heat in the shack increased dramatically.
‘Is it the fire? Or is it her?’
James couldn't care less about the heat. He instead was focused on the Shaman’s amber-colored eyes, their irises almost glowing in the sparse light. Her soft and supple lips were curved into a slight smile, her breaths coming out in small huffs. James could catch the scent of herbal tea and the faint traces of rabbit fat. It was intoxicating.
No words were spoken between the two, but it was more than enough for James to catch the hint. It was time to stop talking.
James moved to pull Dahlia in, her lips making contact with his as they embraced. His hands traveled up her woolen shirt, his calloused fingers grazing against smooth skin. His exploring soon earned him a soft moan from Dahlia, which only motivated him to keep going.
Before long, the two had stripped off the annoying pieces of cloth that stood in their way, their hands tossing shirts and other articles of clothing aside. The fire crackled loudly as they went at it, their breathing and moans nearly being drowned out by the sound of crackling embers.