“Thirty people in the camp, secluded location ensured no fear of civilians getting caught up in the fight, all visible inhabitants of the camp are witch hunters, the leader has been spotted but was now not exposed enough for the first strike. Their armor is simple, leather and chainmail adorned with various anti-witchcraft charms, clearly not made for more traditional combat. Weapons are standard, very few magic users, but every member seems to at least practice using a bow of some kind. The camp itself is made of various vehicles refitted to act as mobile campsites or at least hold the means to set one up, all parked in a circle to provide a minor amount of defense, no heavy weapons or barricades in sight. A good amount of them are patrolling the perimeter, likely due to them expecting trouble from the witches.”
These are all thoughts that went through Yara’s head as she watched them through the trees. It was a foggy early morning, she could barely see past the camp itself with how thick the fog was. She initially wanted to kill a stray member of the camp and use a disguise to find a better spot to strike. That plan was cut short when she realized they were all wearing pacestones, small magic stones that are bound to their soul and transmit a signal to somewhere. The pacestone receiver was in the middle of camp and very visible, they’ll notice if one of the stones suddenly stopped working.
Yara decided her best shot was to pick them off one by one until they noticed, then assault the camp with all she had. Yara was informed that the hunters had stolen various treasures and artifacts from witches over the years and they should be kept intact. Yara could easily turn the whole camp into a mass of spiked crystal and impaled bodies, but that request warranted her to be more precise. So until she had a chance to strike, she waited for a good first shot.
Her patience soon paid off as two were ordered to head towards the city and gather information on the witches. She watched them get into a car and begin to drive down a dirt road towards Grict. She needed to cut off their escape routes, so she had preemptively set a trap along the only road out of this thick forest. A collection of small crystal spikes rose up from the dirt and shredded the tires of the car before sinking back down.
The loud pop of the tires drew the attention of everyone in the camp. Two of the hunters on guard were standing on top of a van and were too distracted by the commotion to notice Yara moving through the foliage. Yara focused her power and two long spikes shot out from the ground below and into their necks. Before they could even bleed out she had the tips of the spikes split apart and retracted into the ground, pulling the guards off of the van and out of view from anyone not outside the camp.
One of them dropped a bow as they fell, the sound drew the attention of another hunter who saw those two were now gone. Yara pointed her staff at the man as a small crystal spike she had made was hovering around the staff. At her command, the spike shot forwards and perfectly punctured the man in the chest. Then she aimed her staff at the car to make the spikes once again shoot up from the ground but larger this time to impale the three inspecting the tires. Yara grew more spikes from the ground and placed them in orbit around her staff as the camp realized they were now under attack. Six kills before being found out, Yara didn’t consider this to be that bad of a start.
Yara stuck a crystal into a nearby tree before retreating back into the foliage and quietly moving elsewhere so she can attack from a new angle. From the things she heard them shouting, they didn’t know who or where she was. Twenty four left for her to kill, she decided it would be best to get as many as she could before engaging in direct combat. The witch hunters were on guard, waiting for another attack.
“What the fuck!? Is it witches?” someone asked as they emerged from a trailer.
“I don’t sense any witchcraft nearby. They seem to be some odd form of geomancer, I haven’t seen magic like this!” someone else said.
“Cowardly wenches! They must have hired mercenaries!” the leader said.
Yara sent a crystal flying towards the leader, but he got lucky and turned just in time to see it coming. He was able to raise his shield up just enough to deflect the crystal. It spun through the air before embedding itself in the ground. A hunter curiously looked down at the strange crystal before Yara caused it to extend and pierce through the bottom of his skull.
Yara has a set limit as to how far she can generate crystals, though she can manipulate existing crystals at a much farther range. She quickly ducked away as some of the hunters fired arrows in her direction. There were still too many to risk getting closer, Yara moved to another spot and sent three more crystals out. One hit a witch hunter in his side, he would have survived if Yara didn’t make spikes extend from the crystal and puncture his organs. Another was deflected by a hunter with a shield while the third crystal flew into the chest of an archer.
They were soon going to catch on that they were being attacked by a singular person. Yara needed them disorganized and defensive. She had the crystal she stuck into a tree earlier shoot towards the camp and explode into tiny crystalline shrapnel mid-flight. One of them took most of the shrapnel while two others were simply injured. One dead and two clearly no longer in fighting shape, Yara felt like she could have timed the dispersal better. They all fired arrows towards where that attack came from, allowing Yara to move once more. Now they don’t know for sure if it’s just one person.
She knew thirty people were in the camp, but she only counted twenty seven since the attack began. She deduced that some of them weren’t equipped for fighting and were taking shelter. That meant only sixteen threats left in the camp. Yara had three crystals still around her staff, she aimed them at the remaining archers and launched all three out. Just like the last one, they all exploded in mid air.
Even the ones wearing metal armor had fragments pierce through the gaps. Those with shields were able to survive, but still had injuries on their legs and wherever else the shields couldn’t protect. Five more down, now she decided to charge in. Gripping her staff, she used an emerging crystal to launch herself into the camp. She immediately swung her staff’s rounded end at the nearest hunter, bludgeoning them in the side of the head.
In one swift motion after, she slammed her staff on the ground and caused spikes to emerge around her, killing three more before they could realize how close the threat was. She shattered the crystals and swung her staff into the chest of another hunter trying to attack, she narrowly avoided the sword of another as the staff cracked his ribs. She pulled her staff back and blocked the hunter’s next sword swing. Yara had a small spike emerge into their foot, they yelled in pain before Yara knocked their sword out of their hand and smashed her staff into the back of their head.
“Five more left” is all that went through her mind at that moment.
She ducked down to avoid a slash from someone with an axe. She had the spike in the hunter’s foot stretch upwards, Yara grabbed it with her free hand and snapped off the tip before driving it into the throat of the hunter. She saw another one with a hammer coming towards her. A large latticed wall rose up from the ground between them. They easily smashed the wall with their hammer, only for the newly made gap to suddenly seal itself with a wall of spikes from both sides and mutilate the hunter.
Yara spotted the last two, both magic users who were staying away from the fight likely to not injure their comrades. She tapped her staff on the ground, three small spikes shot out and began orbiting her staff. One wizard threw a fireball at Yara, the other threw a bolt of lightning. Yara dodged the fireball but was hit directly by the lightning. To the surprise of the two wizards, she didn’t seem to react to the hit at all.
One part of Yara’s biology that was irreversibly changed was an adaptive resistance to repeated trauma. She was kept in line for most of her childhood at the hands of goons with cattle prods and tasers. She had been shocked so much that electricity had barely any effect on her, though the sensation still brought back painful memories. Yara shot two crystals at the wizards. In mid air the crystal spikes flattened and spread into fan-like blades. Both projectiles cut deep into the wizards, making them both collapse in pain.
“One left” Yara said as she looked for the leader.
Just behind a tent, Yara saw something unexpected. The leader was holding an opened scroll and had just finished saying something she couldn’t quite make out. A demonic-looking portal opened up and he leapt inside, dropping the scroll on the ground behind him. Yara aimed her staff and sent the remaining spike towards the leader. The portal closed but not before she saw the crystal hit the man in his shoulder, it wasn’t a mortal wound.
Yara looked around at the scene she had made, crystals and corpses littered the camp. She walked over to a still living witch hunter trying to crawl away. She slammed her staff down on the hunter’s neck. The threats were dealt with but her job was not yet done.
The next hour consisted of Yara thoroughly checking the camp. Any survivors of her attack were swiftly ended. Some of the non-combatant witch hunters surrendered but were met with the same fate as the others. “No survivors, kill every single one of them.” That's what she was asked to do. By the end she counted twenty nine bodies, the pacestone had no visible signals save for the one who escaped.
She looked over each body again. Yara felt a deep euphoria at seeing the people who died at her hands. That’s what she was made to do, she wanted her to love killing. While Yara had no qualms about ending those who absolutely deserve it, she hated this feeling. It was an addiction she tried to push on her, make her more obedient. It almost worked too.
Yara decided to leave right then and there. The job was done, she needed to go tell the witch about it. They agreed to meet back at the queen’s home once they were done. Someone will find this scene eventually and easily pin her as the culprit. Though no one is going to shed tears for these people, no doubt this was going to be a prominent page in whatever record she had.
Her arm had blood on it from when she stabbed the one hunter in the throat. She covered it up by assuming a disguise made from the form of one member of the witch hunters that was hiding in a trailer. They had fairly casual clothes so she stole their look to walk back to the fae district without being noticed. It was a long walk, but she arrived back at the queen’s home within a few hours.
Immediately, Yara was approached by Queen Yanadeyis. She told her how Cyreen had retrieved the letter, but was injured by someone trying to track Yara down. Cyreen was in a spare room receiving treatment from the queen’s personal healers. With their expertise she was expected to be back to normal in a few days.
Yara immediately ran to where Cyreen was. She looked into the room and saw her laying on a bed as two fae healers used their magic to mend her damaged body. Yara saw heavy bruising all over any exposed skin she saw, save for the demon arms which seemed to be fine. The demon Prince Lavor sat in a chair against the wall, anxiously watching the healers work. He noticed Yara walked in, Cyreen was still conscious and was just barely able to lift her head up to see before one of the healers told her to keep her head still.
“You’re back! We got the letter but she was attacked on the way here.” Lavor said as he held out the letter.
“Well you’ll probably like to hear I wiped out almost the entire witch hunter group.” Yara said while not even looking at the letter.
“Almost?” Cyreen asked weakly.
“The leader. I saw him use a scroll to open a portal and jump in. I still got a hit on him but he probably survived. He was the only one to escape.” Yara said.
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“Damn, he must have fled to the Deepworld. Still, he’s lost all of his followers.” Lavor said.
“That’s more than enough, just means I can kill the bastard myself. Give her the letter Lavor.” Cyreen said with a small smile.
Lavor held out the letter once more towards Yara. She looked at him and hesitantly took it. She hadn’t done what Cyreen asked since the leader got away, she didn’t expect to get the letter. Yara still wasn’t used to strangers forgiving her for mistakes. Queen Yanadeyis entered the room and stood beside Yara.
“How is she holding up?” the queen asked the healers.
“Better than when she arrived. She’ll be back to normal by this time tomorrow.” a healer said.
“Who was it that attacked you?” Yara asked as she stood beside the bed.
“I never saw them before, but it was a guy who had your same skin and eyes from what I could see. He had crazy time stopping magic, made everything freeze while I was riding a bus and I nearly flew out the front window.” Cyreen said.
“Is he still alive?” Yara asked.
“Maybe? I hit him with a spell and he seemed injured enough to retreat. No idea if he survived.” Cyreen said.
Yara had her suspicions after the nightclub. She may not be able to make more lattice mages, but Yara was not the only project she had. While Yara knew little of what else was being created, this fit with the theme of the projects she has heard about. No doubt she sent him to try and capture her.
Yara looked down at the letter in her hand. This could be the key to finding her. Even if she knew Yara was coming, leaving the city wasn't an option for her. Yara had no idea what could possibly be keeping her here, but she couldn’t let this chance slip by. She retreated to her own room to read the letter in private.
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Seron sat beside Vaughn as they both watched the TV simply to pass time until he recovered. Using the little medical magic Seron could perform, she could tell whatever illness he had wasn't the result of an actual sickness. The only answer she could come up with is that it’s some kind of condition caused by genetics. He claimed it came and went on its own, diseases don’t normally happen on such a predictable basis.
“This just in! A group of infamous witch hunters that had set up camp near the city, have been brutally slaughtered by an unknown party.” The news anchor said.
“Damn, their leader had a decent bounty on his head.” Seron said.
“The local witch covens were suspected at first to be responsible, but the nature of the attack is beyond what they are capable of and the attacker was clearly not a witch. Currently the assailant is believed to be a woman of unknown race by the name of Yara, a wielder of a special form of magic matching what was used at the scene, though this has yet to be confirmed. The exact number of members in this group is vague, but almost thirty corpses have been found at the campsite, each one brutally murdered. While considered a terrorist organization and largely disliked by most of society, police are still asking for information on Yara for various crimes committed in the past.” the news anchor said.
“Oh hey, it’s that lady from the nightclub! I wondered what she was up to.” Vaughn said when the tv showed some of the crystals at the crime scene.
“You know her?” Seron asked.
“Not really, I helped her out when some guys attacked her at a nightclub not long before you found me. Mostly did it to show I’m not hostile since I could tell she was on a warpath. I just wanted to stay out of her way.” Vaughn said.
“Ah…. Well it seems like you’re more lucid than this morning.” Seron said.
“The meds are finally kicking in.” Vaughn said.
“So, you’re ready to tell me why you have that soul?” Seron asked.
Vaughn looked over at the soul on his nightstand. He still had no idea what actually delivered it here, nor what he truly agreed to when that strange thing came by. But he didn’t feel like pondering it much since the only thing stopping the next step in the plan was himself. He managed to sit upright in the bed and gently held the soul in his hands.
“My teacher, the one who invented this technique. I’m going to contact her.” Vaughn said.
“But she’s dead.” Seron said.
“I added someone to my arsenal who can draw her out. I needed this to actually do it.” Vaughn said.
“Are you sure she’ll appreciate being lured away from the afterlife? Typically, spirits are unhappy to be back.” Seron asked.
“It was her idea. She’s been expecting me. I only took this long because finding a vaudevillian spirit medium is really damn hard.” Vaughn said.
“Okay, so what are you going to tell her?” Seron asked.
“All I've been able to achieve with her power. Then she’s going to tell me what to do next.” Vaughn said.
“She didn’t tell you the whole plan before she died?” Seron asked.
“Figuring out the next step requires an understanding of death beyond what we know as mortals. Only someone who has died themselves can truly see and only a necromancer as powerful as her can understand it.” Vaughn said.
“And I thought druids were weird.” Seron said as she moved to sit on Vaughn’s bed.
“I think I’m going to do it now, I feel well enough to try.” Vaughn said.
“Well I’m staying here if it blows up in your face, someone will have to clean up your mess.” Seron said.
Vaughn grabbed his wand from the nightstand. He put in a new cigarette and lit the tip, he took a small puff for himself before inhaling again to cast the spell. Through the smoke appeared the assimar wizard once more. Vaughn handed the wizard his glasses and the soul. Seron watched as the wizard seemed to almost smile upon touching the soul. His hands began to emit a strange black aura, and in almost an instant the entire room was pitch black.
Only three things were visible in the darkness. The tip of Vaughn’s cigarette, the glow of the TV, and the glasses which were still perfectly visible in the darkness. They saw the glasses rise up, someone opened them and put them on. The light from the TV was only barely shining on this new person, leaving a vague silhouette. Seron stood still, a hand on her sword in case this was trouble. The one wearing the glasses looked at Seron, then the wizard, then Vaughn.
“Hello again Vaughn. Excellent work.” Sumeria said in an ethereal voice.
“Sorry I took so long. Finding someone capable of this was not easy in the slightest.” Vaughn said.
“I understand, such a massive undertaking was expected to have delays. But who is this one beside you?” Sumeria asked.
“Vaughn had to have told you about me.” Seron said.
“You let your sister witness our reunion?” Sumeria said.
“She was gone after I left the bottle, I had given up hope of finding her again until a few days ago. I’m sick and she was caring for me. But you could see outside the whole time. Why didn’t you tell me about what she did to the town?” Vaughn asked.
“I had no idea what it would have done to you. I had no time left to wait for another, I didn’t want to risk discouraging you from learning. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to deceive you, but to make this happen I had no other choice.” Sumeria said.
“I at least appreciate your honesty. Regardless, she’s still my sister and she deserves to be here and see this too.” Vaughn said.
“No worries, if she is to be trusted then she can stay. I trust Danube gave you the documents?” Sumeria asked.
“How did you know about that?” Vaughn asked.
“I always intended to give my power to another before I died. I left instructions vague enough for him to follow and still deny knowing too much. Once he had concrete evidence of your connection to me, he’d know you were entrusted with my power instead of some thug who stole it.” Sumeria said.
“He did threaten me if I ever made the secrets public.” Vaughn said.
“As he should. This power is quite possibly the peak of necromancy as we know it. Even if it somehow didn’t force a ban on necromancy worldwide, the ones who would use it for evil could cause untold harm.” Sumeria said.
“You say to the man who used it to commit a rather substantial amount of crimes.” Seron said.
“I’ve heard of those, news spreads even where I was. I understand sacrifices needed to be made and you had no other option. Robbing a few banks is still less harmful than a maniac trying to create their own army to take over a country.” Sumeria said.
“Yes I know…. But now that you’re here, you can guide me further in our plan!” Vaughn said.
“I can. Passing on has granted me an understanding of death far surpassing anything I could have achieved even in the bottle. I talked to others, they know it too but lack the prior knowledge to interpret it. Learning all that we have from within that death riddled forest, I can see the hidden truth behind death. You know what necromancy feeds on?” Sumeria said.
“When a person dies, their corpse and any significant things pertaining to the death will radiate the energy that fuels our magic. Graveyards, murder weapons, treasures people were killed over. All are sources for our magic.” Vaughn said.
“That is only the radiant energy emitting from a single incorporeal core. Our souls aren’t in our bodies, they’re here with me. Death merely cuts the connection that keeps us anchored in our bodies. That’s why souls are so immutable, they’re nowhere near our bodies. Death energy is simply radiating from the leftover anchor that is severed. It stays with the body.” Sumeria said.
“So what do I do with this? How does this help us?” Vaughn asked.
“This power we shared, we don’t simply animate a corpse. We create a copy of their living body. If the body had an anchor and we could restore a connection-” Sumeria said.
“We could bring spirits back to life!” Vaughn interrupted.
Seron and Vaughn were both shocked by this information. The bodies would be temporary and the connection fragile. But it could work in theory. Sumeria told how the anchors were always bound to the body. The problem was finding an anchor wasn’t something a necromancer can do.
Necromancy controls the energy it gives off but not the source itself. Like how a pyromancer has no real control over the fuel, just the flame. Vaughn needed to look through the magic users he could resurrect to help identify and extract one. They would have to experiment since Sumeria did not know for sure what would be required.
But then Vaughn asked her an important question: “If I succeed, what then?”
Sumeria took off her glasses and placed them in the palm of the assimar, her time there was nearing its end. “You will have achieved the current peak of necromancy. I know you yearned for purpose all your life, but achieving that will end the meaning I gave you since I doubt my power can evolve further within your lifetime. I don’t think I can see you again until you end up here yourself, and my body has by now been totally consumed by those ravenous plants in the bottle. I doubt there is an anchor left where I was. You must find a new purpose, with that power I doubt you’ll have much trouble. Goodbye Vaughn, and thank you for being my student.”
Sumeria’s silhouette walked back into the darkness. Soon it all receded back into the assimar’s hand. The artificial soul was almost completely burnt out, it will take a month for it to recharge to its normal power. Vaughn dismissed the assimar and fell back onto the bed as Sumeria’s glasses fell to the floor.
“You alright?” Seron asked.
“Just…. Reeling from the new fact of nature we just learned.” Vaughn said.
“I don’t even know what to think about that. But if you need help trying to find a purpose in life, I’ll be here to help you this time.” Seron said.
“Actually I already have an idea of what to do. I’m going to turn myself into the necromancer council once I figure out resurrection.” Vaughn said.
“WHAT!?” Seron yelled.
“Think about it. They no longer want me dead anymore. They don’t want what I know to get out but they also don’t want it to die with me. They’re afraid of never finding out these secrets. So, I’ll give them up freely. In exchange for something.” Vaughn said.
“How do you think they’ll agree to that?” Seron asked.
“I’ll find a way to make them agree. I have a few ideas.” Vaughn said with a smile.