Vaughn calmly ate his breakfast, the last half of a small box of doughnuts he had bought the day before. No one was in his motel room, he had not seen Seron in person since their first talk here. They did keep in touch over the phone, but very discretely. While he wanted to see her more, Vaughn needed to keep her away for right now.
Vaughn kept tabs on how the necromancer community viewed him. Most of it was negative of course, but sometimes they let slip valuable pieces of information. It has been three days since he journeyed into the forsworn theater, after the bounty hunters managed to catch up with him there, he decided it was good to lay low for a bit.
He browsed various online forums and chats between the magic community, all using an unassuming username of course. Seron’s fake report on him had been submitted to her employers, someone let it go public soon after. They all now knew who taught Vaughn thanks to the mention of Sumeria. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, he was having fun looking at their reactions to it. Especially with how quickly Vaughn’s bounty went from Dead or Alive to just Alive.
To most of them, it made total sense. She had been outcast for breaking rules and was known for developing radical and often anomalous magics. Vaughn’s power was exactly the kind of thing she would develop. Some are on her side and said it was a bad idea to exile her since she was clearly capable of great things. Plus it would be easier to keep her in check if she was still in the fold. Others were saying she should have been executed, not exiled. Saying she was clearly dangerous and had little regard for rules.
There were massive discussions trying to pin down where she went after her exile, hoping to lead them to a clue about Vaughn. Her illness was public knowledge, so no one assumed she was still alive. Many were trying to locate her body to find some personal artifact to use as a medium for contacting her spirit, despite how difficult such a feat was. Vaughn looked for days trying to find information on the Goddess’s Bottle, no one online knows of its true purpose in the very few places he could find a mention of its existence, much less of what was at the bottom. So he had little faith they would find her grave down there.
All of their various theories as to what Vaughn’s goal was had been getting updated with this new information. Was he trying to get revenge on the necromancer community for his mentor by harboring such threatening magic? Was he merely using the magic for his own gain and couldn’t care less about her? Was there some grander plot at play that Sumeria was part of and her role now falls to him? They’re analyzing every recorded instance of Vaughn’s actions trying to connect things like those various bank robberies to robbing the museum. Vaughn felt that telling them the truth would spoil the fun of this for him. He wouldn’t deny he was enjoying the attention.
One thing Vaughn wasn’t a fan of, was the people saying he’s selfish for keeping the power for himself. Most of the people in these discussions were just as annoyed by these accusations as he was. Vaughn knew his power could threaten the community, which is why he had taken so many steps to keep it secret. Tsilo was not the first to inquire about his powers and what Vaughn had told him was simply what he does, not how he does it.
Past criminal partners had tried to steal his power before, mostly other necromancers. None of them knew the source of his power, they tried stealing everything of his. The playbook, his wand, even his glasses. Vaughn quickly put them in their place once he found out. After word of him began to spread, it got so bad that he began meeting clients and doing jobs entirely through the ones he resurrected. Dozens of criminals worked with him and had no idea what Vaughn even looked like.
His first bank job was also his first time offering his skills to criminal elements. Many were skeptical about hiring someone so new to the business, but his ability to summon dozens of people from nothing proved to be too useful to ignore. With the earnings for his first heist he paid the legal fees to get all his paperwork and ID sorted out. Thankfully he did it early, as if he had waited he would have likely been identified at the office and arrested.
Many tried to hire Vaughn as a permanent addition to their groups, but he refused as he didn’t want to commit to anything until he had fulfilled Sumeria’s wishes. The criminal underworld views Vaughn as a valuable asset for hire. He only turned to criminal work out of desperation at first once he left the bottle and had to walk his way to the nearest town. Vaughn did remember the first necromancer to learn of his power, it’s a meeting that was often on his mind.
Vaughn had wandered into a wizard consortium, a place where magic can be practiced and discussed freely without worry from the laws of the surrounding area. Tired and hungry from the long journey of leaving home, a necromancer sensed his unusual aura and offered him some food and a place to stay for the night. Vaughn shared parts of his story, mentioning the garden of death and an exiled necromancer inside who taught him. Vaughn never told the necromancer his name, mostly because he never asked. When he asked to see Vaughn’s power, he was not prepared for what he would see. The wizard was both fascinated and terrified at the power he wielded. He then told Vaughn something he would never forget.
“This power is the kind of development that only shows up once every few generations. Like it or not, history will remember you. It’s up to you what kind of memories those will be.”
Vaughn tried to go straight once he had enough funds to get all the paperwork sorted and not starve. He tried to make those memories history would remember him by good ones. Yet he was almost immediately shunned by the necromancer community. They feared his power then and they fear it now. Many have publicly stated that Vaughn should have been detained or killed the moment his existence was made aware. He won’t deny that those would have been logical actions.
The resurrected ventriloquist sitting on the edge of Vaughn’s bed suddenly stood up and turned towards the door. Vaughn froze mid-bite, wondering if someone managed to track him here. Instead he saw a letter pushed underneath the door and the faint sound of someone walking away. The ventriloquist looked at Vaughn, waiting for an order. He tells it to pick up the letter.
It doesn’t explode in his hand or curse him, Vaughn sees this as a good sign. He stood up and took the letter from his hand. Opening it revealed that it is a simple note. Handwritten with a picture stapled to it.
“Sumeria was my teacher too. I have no quarrel with you or your work. I simply wish to talk and offer a small bit of help. Meet me here at 11:00 AM tomorrow. Wear a disguise if you want, but keep her glasses on. -Danube”
The picture is of a park, one Vaughn saw not far from his motel. Sumeria did mention training others before her exile. Were they former students of her’s or unofficial ones she helped like Vaughn? She said that Vaughn would be the only one to know her magic once she passed away. He wondered what this person could want from him.
Vaughn had every reason to suspect it was a trap. Though this wasn’t the first time he would willingly be walking into one. If it was, he can take out a number of his pursuers at once. If it isn’t, he can maybe gain an ally or at least some good information. Vaughn decided it would be best to go, once he set up some proper precautionary measures of course.
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The witch hunters would arrive tomorrow morning, the covens met to discuss what to do. Sarris had done as Cyreen asked and sent word of the hunters arriving to the various other covens within Grict. While the witch hunters were here for Cyreen, they wouldn’t hesitate to attack any other witch they find. Fortunately for once, the law is on the side of the witches.
By law, witches are allowed to defend themselves from witch hunters with lethal force if needed. Meanwhile, witch hunting is illegal. However, the police can’t intervene until civilians get involved. The hunters know this and will avoid striking in populated areas. So the covens needed to plan a strategy.
Representatives from various covens have met inside an abandoned boathouse near a large river leading inland. All evidence pointed to the witch hunters arriving from the river and setting up camp in the woods outside the city. Cyreen was attending the meeting despite not technically being in a coven at the moment. Lavor was not there, he was off gathering information instead. This was witch business, he had little reason to be there.
Cyreen told the witches her story. A few of the other covens claim to have encountered that group of hunters before. They were not easy foes to fight. There was a reason Cyreen’s coven fled instead of fighting. Each of the witches there offered their own ideas on what to do.
“Could we poison their food or drink?” Yurinad of the Underhill Coven said.
“Others have tried, they eat in a very specific order so if anything is poisoned, it only affects a few before they notice.” Hursin of the Krene River Coven said.
“What about something really slow acting? So they don’t notice until most of them are afflicted with it?” Said Borin of the Willow Tree Coven.
“Toxins like that are often curable. So once symptoms show and they determine what it is, they can cure everyone else. Not to mention we have to last long enough for it to take effect.” Dorer of the Black Cloud Coven said.
“The problem with all of your plans is that you’re thinking like witches.” Cyreen said.
The others looked at her, they knew she was right but didn’t like it. They knew the witches here are aware of their future arrival. There was no way they couldn’t be anticipating some kind of early attack. Taking them out themselves likely wasn’t an option.
“So what do you propose we do about it?” Hursin asked.
“I was thinking about this for a while. I have an idea for how to tip the odds in our favor.” Cyreen said.
“Tell us now.” Dorer asked.
“It’s easy, all we have to do is to just get someone who’s not a witch to attack them. They know every trick in our books, so we need to go book shopping. Someone who’s powerful and doesn’t have qualms about killing them.” Cyreen said.
“Many of my sisters have reported seeing an unusually large amount of bounty hunters from several guilds in this city. All after some incredibly high profile targets.” Yurinad said.
“Ooh! How about we find one of these bounties and convince them to aid us?” Borin said.
“Do you think just killing the leader is the solution?” Hursin asked.
“No. Someone else awful will step up to replace him. But they won’t let him be killed without a fight. Chances are there will be a good deal more than just him taken out.” Cyreen said.
“So we need to kill everyone, wipe out the group entirely.” Yuinad said.
“Exactly. We can’t risk any of them surviving. Maybe we can arrange some sort of deal. But how do we even find one and get in contact with them on such short notice?” Hursin asked.
“I can give that a go. I’m not affiliated with any covens at the moment, I’ll seem the least suspicious. I can contact someone right now to discuss it if you like.” Cyreen said.
“Go ahead. It’s best we can decide together on who we should involve in this” Dorer said.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Cyreen began weaving a spell. She knew little about the people the bounty hunters are after. She only knew one of them was the strange necromancer that she and Lavor had hired once before. At least she assumed he was in the city, judging from the strange thing she saw at the museum. Through the spell she saw Tsilo, he looked up from his desk and peered into the spell on his end.
“Well, this is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d hear from you so soon. Do you need my services again?” he asked.
“I’m here with witches from the other covens in the city. Witch hunters are converging on this city in a few days and we have a plan to fight them off.” Cyreen said.
“I’ve been monitoring them for a while. Quite a nasty bunch they are. I assume you need my help to enact that plan of yours?” Tsilo asked.
“There are three very powerful wizards in this city. I know one is the weird necromancer that has everyone in a tizzy. We want to negotiate a deal between us to fight the witch hunters.” Cyreen said.
“A good plan, they won’t be expecting one of them. Unfortunately, I can’t help you much when it comes to that.” He said.
“Why not?” Cyreen asked.
“Coincidentally, all three visited me for my services the same day as you and your demon friend. One is a fellow necromancer so he’ll detect my spies once they get close, tracking him since I last met the man has been difficult. Another is quite frankly a basketcase of issues that no one should get involved in, not to mention she is currently in the company of the fae so good luck dealing with them. The last one actually robbed me of the information he wanted, I doubt he’ll help unless it somehow benefits his own agenda.” Tsilo said.
“Dammit.” Cyreen said under her breath.
“Hold on, I know a prominent member of the fae. They could help us.” Borin said.
“Make it happen.” Dorer said.
“As payment for this information, I would like a favor from each of your covens which I can call in at any time. I find witches to be useful for many situations.” Tsilo said.
The witches all agreed. Though owing one to someone like Tsilo wasn’t always a good thing, it’s better than being dead. The spell dissipated and the group decided to end the meeting. They would all stay in touch to further discuss the plan. Cyreen wasn’t expecting it to end this well.
Normally covens had a rather fierce rivalry between them. While rarely escalating into violence, it’s still never a good idea to have multiple different coven members in the same room. But the threat of witch hunters was enough for them all to come together. History has shown the common fate of covens that ignore these kinds of threats.
Cyreen knew she can’t undo the seals on her arms. This whole plot is both a means to help all the witches of the city, but also get some revenge on the people who tormented her. She was not picky about it though, she’ll be happy so long as they die. Cyreen didn’t have a need to kill them all herself, though she wouldn’t mind it. So long as she received proof Jortam is gone, she would be happy.
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Yara awoke in a familiar bed. The same one she stayed in during her time with the fae. She felt some sort of comfort when in this realm. Even if it does bring back memories of the horrible place she escaped from. Just as she sat up in her bed, the door to her room opened.
Fae Queen Yanadeyis, the one who took her in during that troubling time. Floating behind her back were a pair of solid wings that somehow gave her flight despite never moving. She floated over to Yara’s bed and sat on the edge. Yara smiled at the queen with her unmasked face.
“It’s good to see you again. Sorry you had to spend a few days here alone. Matters around the realms called for my attention.” she said.
“It’s fine, I sort of just showed up without warning anyway.” Yara said.
“How is my son?” she asked.
“He’s doing well. I asked him to watch the place while I was gone.” Yara said.
“I figured he would want to come with you considering how close you both are.” She said.
“He wanted to, but deep down he knew I had to do this alone. I’m thankful for how he has helped me recover over the years. But that Yara couldn’t do this, I had to undo some of the work so I could make it this far.” Yara said.
“I’m sure he understands. I was informed of your situation by my advisors. Aside from offering you shelter, is there another way we can help?” She asked.
“Any lead you can find on her. I gave your advisor all the information I gathered so far so you can ask them for where to start. But no matter what, she must die by my hands.” Yara said.
“She deserves far more than death after what she did to my people. Unfortunately she only has one life for us to end. If I find her, you’ll be the first to know.” she said as she stood up.
Yara watched her leave before drawing her gaze towards a picture resting on a nightstand beside the bed. A picture of the queen’s son stared back at her. Sumai, Yara’s unofficial husband. It made her think of how they came to be together.
At first Yara was too afraid to return to living in the regular world, she wanted to stay in the fae realm. He had developed an interest in her, he wanted to help Yara's damaged psyche heal. Yara had no idea if it was him or simply experiencing actual friendship for once, but it did start to work. Nothing could erase what she went through, but he managed to make it into something she could live with for a time.
Over time their feelings grew deeper and when Yara gave up the hunt and wanted to try and live a normal life, he wanted to come with her. Things were well for a time, Yara was more happy than she had ever been. It was the closest thing to normalcy she had ever experienced. However, Yara knew deep down that it could all resurface.
Exactly that had happened when a man who resembled Yara’s appearance but was far worse off had visited their home. He had escaped from her facility and by pure chance happened to hear about Yara from her neighbors. He told her that she was in Grict. At that exact moment, much of the work Sumai did had become undone. It will never get fixed again, it will always unravel eventually until she is dead.
He was skeptical about it, but understood that Yara wanted this more than anything. Despite his requests, Yara insisted she go alone. Her fellow test subject died a day later, organ failure brought on by what was done to him. Yara has not stayed in contact with Sumai ever since she left. She doesn’t want to risk any message being intercepted now.
Yara spent most of the morning going over the information she stole from the hospital. While all the info on it was potentially compromised since she knew Yara had it, the info still had potential to lead her to what she needed. The fae had been trying to track her down as well ever since Yara told them about the experiments. With their combined knowledge, there was no way she can stay hidden for long.
Though, even if all of this failed to find anything substantial, she had one other option. She wanted Yara captured alive, so using herself as bait is the obvious answer but was far too risky. All she saw in Yara was a chance to regain lost progress. She was the closest anyone has gotten to her goal after all. If anything, Yara knew she could use it to her advantage. Knowing how an enemy will try to act is always good.
The purpose behind all of the kidnappings, experiments, and abhorrent behavior was to create a new species of people. She believed it’s only a matter of time before one of the major races gets into a war or suffers from some disaster and nearly gets wiped out. This new species is supposed to swoop in then and seize their now untended lands to begin expanding. Eventually she decided to try and find a way to choose which race to end and replace. Yara was her attempt at trying to create a powerful magic user to fight for the new species. It was planned for her to use her magics to infiltrate and sabotage entire societies to expedite their collapse.
The queen and her son cared about Yara, she was welcome among the fae like family. In just the few short years she had known them, they had already done far more for Yara than she ever did. Why she wanted anything was of no concern to Yara and never will be. Even if her plan had some ridiculous “It would have been a good thing in the long term so it was for the greater good.” thing being the reason behind it, that wouldn't change Yara’s actions at all.
Yara didn’t think much of religion, philosophy, or anything not directly apparent to her. She’s a simple person who believes in one truth, the one thing that will be true no matter what else happens in this world. Clarita D’Sawunn will die by her hands. She will die in the most agonizing way Yara can manage and it won’t be enough to return all the pain she inflicted onto her. But it will be so damn satisfying.
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It took Hictor three days to skin Yurah’s corpse. Beings with metal for skin are quite durable even on the inside. Once it had been cleaned, he set the corpse aflame with his magic to slowly but surely let it all burn to ash. Now all that would remain of him was a pile of silver skin resting on the floor of the workshop.
Hictor brought forth a being that was a collection of floating stone blocks in the vague shape of a person. Hictor watched as it held a hand out towards the skin and suddenly liquefied the metal hide into molten silver. Any scraps of flesh left were incinerated as the silver was effortlessly melted down and fused into a single ball. Then the being began to move its hands as if it were sculpting clay, the silver morphed with its movements. Hictor sent the being to wherever it came from with the silver in tow. It will take time to mold it into what he needed, best to let it work in private.
“You’re really going to go through with this plan huh?” the small egg-shaped insect asked from atop a rusted table.
“I see no other option.” Hictor said.
“That doesn’t mean there aren’t other options.” it said.
“Well do you know of any?” Hictor asked.
“I’m working on a possible one. But I would still recommend you not go through with this.” it said.
“I already killed my former summon, kind of late to turn back now.” Hictor said.
Hictor walked into the offices and looked at a large decayed whiteboard he had used to lay out his plan. Acquiring the silver was a good first step, one of the more difficult tasks out of the way early. The other tasks are going to be time consuming. Luckily Hictor has been sending out his summons to do it for him. It won’t be long before it’s ready.
He had been keeping an eye on any local groups or individuals that might interfere. The bounty hunters were the most likely threat, but all the different groups seem to be conflicted at what target to go after. Hictor knew he was not the only high profile bounty in this city. Even if he were to make them think he left the city like he originally planned, they won’t be leaving when there is this much opportunity.
He wondered if the hunters actually knew why they were after him. They assumed it’s because of the incident caused by his first use of the crystal, but that hardly justified the inanely sized bounty. He remembered seeing some people try to investigate further into this, figure out why he had such a high bounty and how it got posted mere minutes after the incident. No one knew who posted the bounty either. All the posters say in that regard is “Wanted Dead. We will know when it happens and who to reward." Needless to say, there were people who wanted to know what was going on.
But they couldn’t find much. It's a law that bounties are allowed to be placed by anonymous people. They had theories as to who was offering up the annual budget of a country in exchange for Hictor’s death. In the end they just decided to accept it. After all, considering the damage the incident caused, no wonder someone wanted Hictor dead.
And whatever that someone really wanted was the crystal. Actual records of what Hictor could do with it were sparse. Almost as if something was deliberately covering it up. All they knew was that Hictor had some really weird summons at his disposal. That’s probably why the bounty hunters that come after him were usually unprepared for what he unleashed upon them.
Hictor had kept tabs on the various other high value targets in the city. Accidentally running into something that one geomancer was doing ended up causing him trouble. So he’s trying his best to avoid areas where they were active. The geomancer was in the fae district, no way was Hictor touching that place. There was a strange necromancer who Hictor was certain to be hiding out in a specific motel, new varieties of magic are always bad to get caught up in. Then there was the deposed demonic prince Lavor who they claim has died, but Hictor knew for sure he was currently hiding with someone else in a gas station down the street.
The small insectoid being looked at the whiteboard with Hictor. It was the one who gathered most of this information, something it was quite capable at doing too. Hictor was debating on throwing the hunters a clue towards one of them, hoping to possibly get one out of the picture or lure the hunters into a trap. He decided now wasn’t the time for that. Though it could be a good option to have for the future. For now, he needed more of his plan finished. He wouldn’t have to worry about any of this once it’s done.