Vaughn had found a secluded spot to conduct his experiment. Extracting the inert anchor from the bone trinket was easy once he knew it was there. He held the small swirling mass of soul in his palm, completely invisible to the naked eye but vaguely apparent to anyone sufficiently tapped into death or life energy. Souls have been an immutable energy for all of known history. Nothing on the planet outside of a god could even interact with one.
Contacting the dead was less like summoning them from beyond the grave and more like calling them on the phone and hoping they would answer. Such attempts to make contact with those who have died were rarely successful. The dead have described where they were as a place that makes interacting with the world of the living seem “too complicated to be bothered with.” Sumeria only came to Vaughn because it was all part of an unfinished plan, and it would take a necromancer as advanced as her to truly understand her situation. To know the truth about souls and pass it on to Vaughn.
Numerous beliefs thought that souls were simply a presence that inhabited a body and left at the moment of death. Some theorized that like many spells, souls worked on a first come first serve rule. The act of inhabiting a body was some form of magic and it was therefore immune to all magic while still active. Artificial souls were not true souls, but merely stored energy with the same properties of a soul. Somewhat like normal milk compared to almond milk. A real soul was theorized to have some primeval ingredient that allowed for consciousness to develop.
All of those had now been proven wrong. No magic can affect a soul because the soul wasn't where anyone thought it was. With this anchor however, a possibility now arised. A tether can be formed and placed back in a vacant but still suitable body. The dead can walk among the living once more not as a reanimation, but as an independent being.
The only problem now was finding a soul to tether. His best shot was to find someone who had very recently died. He could always make one manually, but then the person would be stuck inside a perfectly healthy body and likely feel rather resentful towards Vaughn. He decided it would be best for everyone involved if it was merely someone he found. Finding one would be hard in this city, there were so many places he would have to look.
He couldn’t sneak into a morgue. Those places very explicitly have necromancer detecting security systems. All because some are depraved enough to try and steal pieces of people’s dead grandparents to use as trinkets. Or those who try to just steal a whole corpse, resurrect it off the table and try to sprint away with some old naked person running behind them. Despite what some may think, necromancers deeply respect the dead. Robbing a morgue was just sad.
While it was tempting to steal one of the demons he killed last night, that place was currently a crime scene with more than enough police to make Vaughn uncomfortable. Also there is the fact that demons don’t have normal souls and are in a weird reincarnation cycle with angels. Best to stick with something more familiar for the first attempt.
Seron couldn’t help him here. She’s busy explaining her part in the fight last night to both her employers and the police. She’s been placed under watch in case Deinia tried anything else. Vaughn knew he had to wait for her to make contact with him again before they could interact.
No, he had to find a corpse himself that time. So he instead looked through his criminal connections. While he had not worked in this city before, his reputation alone was able to very easily find some people willing to hire him to do some dirty work. It was almost like a godsend when one specific job was brought to his attention.
Someone had been killed by organ harvesters, the crime had been dying in recent times thanks to advances in artificial and magically sustained organs. Though it was unfortunately not dying fast enough. One person had their friend killed by them, using the money the friend left to them in their will, they were willing to hire someone to put an end to them for good. Vaughn didn’t even hesitate with that job.
Finding them was easy with the information that came with the contract. Taking them out was even easier, especially with all of those surgical tools they had laying around. The job was easy, though he wasn’t doing it for the money. Just as he had hoped, another recent victim of theirs was lying dead in a large cooler stuffed with ice.
They were likely about to carve him up when Vaughn arrived. He pulled up a chair next to the cooler, it was open and vapor seeped out onto the floor as he looked down at the corpse. He called over one of the acrobats he reanimated to assault the place, she ran over to his side as Vaughn prepared. He focused on the anchor, the body, and the acrobat as he prepared his spell.
Using the anchor, he homed in on the latent ebbs of the soul that previously inhabited the body. If he had to describe the experience, he would say: “It felt like holding a key in a large dark room and trying to find the lock.” As difficult as it sounds, he was however able to re-tether the soul to the anchor. Though it would not last long, he knew it would disconnect forever soon. Then without hesitation, he shoved the anchor into the chest of the acrobat.
The acrobat seemed to sway as if it were drunk, her limbs began to twitch and her head stared with more than just the normal blank expression. She began to stumble and soon fell to the floor. Vaughn watched as the acrobat convulsed on the cold ground. Then it all suddenly stopped.
The acrobat started to blink and look around. Its movements were more fluid and less robotic than before. She was acting like she had just woken up from a long nap, she sat up and looked at her body. Likely very confused at what she was seeing. Then she turned to Vaughn.
“What is this? I thought I died.” she asked.
Vaughn couldn’t contain his excitement, letting out a triumphant laugh and leaping out of his chair. “HAHAHA! YES! DO YOU SEE IT SUMERIA!? WE DID IT!!!!”
“What?” the acrobat asked, feeling very confused and nervous.
“Oh, erm. Sorry about that, just got carried away is all. To put it bluntly, I’m a necromancer who has just performed the first successful resurrection.” Vaughn said as he sat back down.
“….What!?” she asked.
“I’m terribly sorry if you’re bothered by being stuck in one of my minions. But I had to find someone. And that someone was you.” Vaughn said as he pointed to the open cooler before closing it. “Would probably be for the best that you don’t see your own corpse.”
“N-no. This is insane! I died! I was murdered! How am I here?” She asked.
“Yeah, it is crazy but it’s possible. And yes you were killed, but don’t worry I killed all of those guys on my way in here. I’d tell you specifically how I brought you back, but unless you’re a necromancer too I doubt you’ll understand any of it.” Vaughn said.
“This is…. This is really fucking weird! Why do I look like this? Am I just stuck here in this body until I die again?” She asked.
“Well that body could still be killed in a way. But I can also undo the spell. Again, I’m sorry if this is disturbing to you. Just say the word and I’ll send you back to the great beyond.” Vaughn said.
“I kinda would like that, yes.” she said.
“One thing first.” Vaughn said before picking up an empty beer can from a nearby shelf and tossing it across the room. “Bring that to me.”
She stood there not moving before making a response “Why?”
“Nevermind, that’s all I needed to see. Oh and if you meet a necromancer woman by the name of Sumeria, please tell her about this.” Vaughn said.
Vaughn focused on the acrobat, swiftly cutting the tether from the anchor with his spell. The acrobat immediately fell limp again before standing back up and resuming its normal expressionless movements. Vaughn let out a small chuckle, still proud at what he has done. Now he was finished, his business in the city was finally concluded. All he had to do now was wait for Seron. Until then, he contacted the man who hired him for this job to tell him he did what was asked.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yara dialed the number into the phone. She used the one inside the queen’s home since she didn’t carry a phone with her. Yara sat in a chair, nervously tapping her foot as she waited for an answer. To her disappointment, it went to the answering machine.
“Hello, you’ve reached the home of Sumai Yanadeyis. I can’t get to the phone right now so please leave a message.” the pre-recorded voice of Sumai said.
Yara took a deep breath. While she would have preferred to speak to him directly, sometimes things just turn out different. She didn’t want to contact him more than once, so this was her only chance. She breathed out as she heard the beep.
Sumai, it’s me. I’m with your mother right now if she hasn’t told you already. I…. I found her. I have concrete evidence to where I can finally confront her. The alias she’s using is currently caught up in legal crap, no way she could leave her building much less the city without compromising nearly everything. It gives me time to prepare.
I know you’re thinking that it’s unlike me to hold back on the one thing I’ve wanted for most of my life. But a strange sort of focus came over me the moment I found out. I need to make this count, I don’t know if I’ll ever get another chance like this again. I know I said I wouldn’t contact you, but I feel that you need to hear me in this moment. I’ll need you to tell me if I change afterwards. You’re the only one who will know for sure if I do.
I…. I still have the hat you bought for me. I’ve been wearing it the whole time. I know it’s a bit ridiculous, straw hat with a fake flower tucked into it. But it was the first gift I ever received, if you didn’t know. Nothing she gave me could count as a gift. The only reason I even met your mother and the other fae is because of a fluke, the staff and being welcomed into your family could all be considered as just repaying all I've done for them.
I still remember the day you bought it. A hot day that wasn’t being helped by my hair, so you bought it from a local store and gave it to me. I brought it with me on this trip because when I find her, I want it to be a symbol of the kindness she deprived me of my whole life. When I do it, the city is going to be a bit chaotic. I may have trouble getting out. But I’m not going to waste time, I’m coming straight home. I’ll call you again once I get out of the city.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Yara sighed as she hung up the phone. She felt uneasy about the final confrontation. It would no doubt change her forever, but she didn’t know how. Realistically it’s no different from the many others she’s killed. But with the goal so close, she’s having second thoughts.
For years she fantasized about making it as slow as she could, ensuring every agony filled moment was revenge for every soul wronged. She considered not even using her magic and just using her hands and whatever tools she could find. All as an extra way of rejecting her by refusing to use the very powers she shoved into her. Now though, she doesn’t want to draw it out. Just to only make sure it’s final. Leave no possible way for her to come back from it.
It would be justice, anyone else in her position would do the same. The queen would leak all of the information Yara gathered over the years to the public, ruining Clarita’s reputation forever. But only once the job was done. Letting that out early would just make her go into hiding, more so than normally. A complete and utter destruction of a person both physically and socially.
Yara knew it wouldn’t magically make her better, there’s no way to undo all of the damage done. She was even having doubts it would make her feel good at all. Would there be another way to deal with Clarita? Maybe, but Yara had to prepare for the fight regardless. There would be a lot of hired muscle between the two of them. Yara had no doubt she wasn't going to make it easy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cyreen was feeling uneasy as she studied a crude map Lavor made of the palace. Surraid was contacting some more of Lavor’s supporters, organizing things for after the coup. Lavor was polishing the lantern, making sure it’s ready for the coming fight. Today is the day they are to return to Deepworld and retake the throne. Once Surraid came back, they would begin.
Cyreen felt uncomfortable, not with the attack or anything relating to it. She had felt a sense of dread sweeping across the city. Something was about to happen, some kind of disaster maybe. She wasn’t the only one feeling it, the other covens in the city have been communicating with each other to confirm other witches feel it too. Most were trying to get out of the city, hoping to dodge whatever was going to happen. A building collapsing, a massive riot, some kind of natural disaster, or a massive attack by an unknown force. No one knew for sure but they knew it wasn’t going to be good. Whatever it would end up being, Cyreen was glad she’ll be somewhere else entirely before it arrived.
“Cyreen.” Lavor said as he walked over to her.
“Yes?” She said, keeping herself composed.
“Hold out one of your hands.” Lavor said as he sat beside her.
Cyreen held out a hand, Lavor gently grabbed it and turned it over to look at the symbol on the wrist. He gently caressed it with his bandaged fingers. He sighed and let go of her hand. Cyreen could just barely see the seal carved into the flesh between the bandages.
“I…. I don’t know if this is entirely safe for you.” Lavor said.
“What? You know I can fight.” Cyreen said.
“It’s not the fighting I’m worried about. Those marks have dictated my destiny from the moment I spawned. I would never be the demon I am today if I didn’t have those. Cyreen, these ancient rituals I’m going to use may not allow you to merely watch.” Lavor said.
“What do you mean?” Cyreen asked.
“You, an orphaned half-dark elf who happens to have the arms of the rightful prince. You may be forced to get involved.” Lavor said.
“Do you not think I can handle it?” Cyreen asked.
“I don’t know. These are old rituals, things only demons were ever meant to be part of. I have no idea how this will turn out given our unique situation.” Lavor said.
“Are you asking me to stay behind?” Cyreen asked.
“Cyreen, I didn’t get many friends growing up. Didn’t really have many more when I was prince either. Yeah there’s the whole life debt thing going on, but I know you’re here with me because you want to be. These past six months have been nice. I’m not asking you to stay behind, but I’m giving you permission if you want to. This isn’t your fight, nor is it for the future of your people. You can go rejoin your coven like I know you’ve been aching to do and I won’t think any less of you for it.” Lavor said.
Cyreen truly didn’t know what to say. Just yesterday she was wondering if she should split from him if things got too bad. Maybe she was just nervous and having second thoughts, Cyreen didn’t know for sure herself. This next part was probably going to be the roughest it had ever been on their quest together. But it will also be the end, nothing left to keep her from her coven after that. Yet here he was giving her an early exit.
Sure, he may just be protecting himself by ensuring not all of him can die there. But Cyreen could sense genuine compassion in him, Lavor saw her as a true friend. Cyreen saw him the same way. Then again, how could two people live on the run together for months without becoming friends. Not to mention the immense amount of trust needed for the arm swapping.
Cyreen didn’t have a reason to refuse. She did want to see her coven again, but the long term ramifications of Lavor failing were too great to ignore. She had no idea if her coming along would help him succeed. But after this long, working up to this moment after all that time. Cyreen didn’t like to leave jobs half finished.
“Like hell I’m not going with you.” Cyreen said with a smile.
Lavor smirked and turned away to hide it. “Be ready, he could be back any minute.”
“I know you want to leave soon, but shouldn’t we try to set a time that’s good to ambush her?” Cyreen asked.
“I’d love to, but I have no idea of what she’s doing. With the tiny fraction of power I have back, I can somewhat sense where she is. But she could be on the toilet for all I know, can’t tell. Also, there is this recent problem.” Lavor said as he showed what were Cyreen’s hands.
The palms of his hands had burn marks on them. Almost like they were splashed with some kind of nasty chemical. Those arms had been pumping demon blood through their veins for too long. The protection they offered against the lantern was weakening. Cyreen once touched the lantern out of curiosity, it felt like touching red hot metal. She knew how painful it can feel if it became bad enough.
No amount of physical protection could help a demon hold something like the lantern. Even if he was wearing the thickest gloves anyone’s seen, the lantern just knows. Cyreen’s old arms may have been able to trick it for a while, but they knew it wasn’t going to last forever. Lavor insisted it was the only thing that allowed him to confront Deinia, they had to work fast. No more delays.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Why did you flee?” Hictor demanded as Torrid watched him yell at the club armed creature.
Its excuse was that she had figured out a method to cause harm. Once that became apparent, it was able to determine that any fight would end in its death. The magic user who was supposed to help was rendered powerless in moments and his death was all but assured. The task was a complete failure, it considered fleeing with its life to be the only good to come out of it.
“Dammit I told you to kill her! You’re supposed to obey my commands!” Hictor yelled.
The creature stood there in silence. No longer willing to deal with Hictor’s demands and having a valid excuse to cut ties. It spoke a strange series of words no one heard, it severed the summoning contract. With that the creature slowly faded back to its own reality, refusing to ever allow Hictor to summon it again.
Hictor grabbed a hammer resting on a stack of plywood and threw it at where the creature had just been. He clutched his head and began pacing back and forth, clearly furious. Torrid was the only summon he had out at the time and was the only one who could try and calm Hictor down. It was not a task they were looking forward to.
“Why not try to summon something else to take their place?” Torrid said.
Hictor stopped pacing and looked at them. “Because I run the risk of being discovered every time I draw something out. The project will be finished by this afternoon and I cannot afford to be discovered now!”
“Hictor, I know you entrusted me with a lot of the responsibility of keeping this project on schedule. But I still have no idea what you are even trying to do. What is that thing even supposed to accomplish?” Torrid asked.
Hictor was puzzled by the question. He tried to remember if he had told anyone about it, but realized he never did. This confusion somehow calmed him down. Torrid felt nervous, as if it was afraid of what the answer might be.
“You…. You didn’t do that eye thing to find out?” Hictor asked.
“No, I’ve been unable to ever since you spoke with that strange entity you summoned.” Torrid said.
“Wh…. Huh? I didn’t think that was possible. You’ve been following every word I say while having no idea what we’re doing?” Hictor asked.
“Yes…. I have.” Torrid said.
“Why didn’t you ask?” Hictor said.
“I’m asking now.” Torrid said.
“Well, how do I explain this…. Those interdimensional assholes who stuck me in this mess are largely unable to interact with this world on a physical level. So they slapped a giant bounty on me hoping someone kills me, takes the crystal, and then they give it to them. I’m going to make that bounty posting irrelevant.” Hictor said.
“How?” Torrid asked.
“Through a process that…. I can't really use words to describe it. The way it told me was more like a feeling than any collection of words. Sorry but that’s the best way I can describe it. I was never a linguist.” Hictor said.
“But are you aware of what your machine will do to the surrounding area? Because I do.” Torrid asked.
“Oh I know. But there is simply no other way it can function. Besides, it’s better that way. Can’t have someone copy the process and go after me.” Hictor said.
To Hictor, this plan was perfectly acceptable. He was aware of just how powerful the beings that wanted to get the crystal are. That combined with the general knowledge about existence he gained by using the crystal has caused Hictor to get a better idea of the sheer scale they work on. For all he knew, they could be gods. There wasn’t really a lot someone could do when a god wanted them dead.
The scale of it all, the constant stress from never having much of a break ever since getting the crystal, and some strange side effects of talking to the flaming extradimensional being had taken a toll on Hictor’s psyche. What would happen to the city was now looking like a very minor incident to him. He had no real way of accurately conveying this to Torrid as he always relied on their ability to read thoughts to get them to understand ideas. So Hictor was hoping he was explaining this correctly.
“Hictor, do you truly think this is the best course of action?” Torrid said.
“Absolutely! I can’t live like this my whole life and that bounty doesn’t say anything about bringing me in alive. It will only be a matter of time before someone gets me and all of my work will be for nothing. This is the only way I can avoid that fate.” Hictor said.
“Are you sure it’s the only way?” Torrid asked.
“It’s the only good idea I’ve heard so far. I need to do something, might as well be this.” Hictor said.
Hictor turned away from Torrid, now returning to his work. Clarita had no idea Hictor failed on his part yet, she probably wouldn’t know until tomorrow. But that was of no concern since the machine was to be used tonight. It had to be brought somewhere high up, and her building would fill the role perfectly. Torrid however, was more worried than before.
Seeing how Hictor was too absorbed in fine tuning his machine, Torrid scuttled out of sight without him even noticing. This had settled it for them, something had to be done. Eso was the only other one they could confide in and they both shared the same concern, though Torrid had only learned this recently. Both knew Hictor wasn’t up to anything good, though it may end in them being banished from this universe forever, they both decided something needed to be done.