The private study of Tiberius Anderberg did nothing to betray the immense power and influence of its owner. It was a tastefully decorated but simple room. A row of neat shelves, a functional plain desk, a small window to the courtyard below. For a man who could command kings, the simplicity was a statement in itself.
Tiberius gave the Grand Inquisitor and Daniel a soft smile as they entered. He was an old man, very old, and that showed. His face was wrinkled and marked by age and his long beard and hair were completely white. But most of all, it were his eyes that spoke of an age most people don't even dream to reach. They spoke of the wisdom and dignity of a man who had seen the worst and best humanity had to offer. Still, he exuded a great warmth and unquestioning understanding. Daniel relaxed a bit and released the breath he had been unconsciously holding.
He wondered how all this had happened. For whatever reason, the Grand Inquisitor had taken a liking to him and dragged him along on his latest exploit. During which he was used as bait for the horrible necromancer, mind you. He hadn't forgotten that quite yet. And now, after all, after having failed, if he was honest, he was meeting the most powerful mage of the middle lands in his private rooms. Should he be terrified or exhilarated? Both, presumably. They sat on two chairs in front of the desk.
“Alwyn, Daniel, it is great that you could join me today. I have read everything about this necromancer of yours. It is a tragedy. Someone like her living among the good and fair people of our lands.” He slowly shook his head, as if trying to banish this terrible image from his mind. “For years she lived there and they suspected nothing.” Tiberius sighed and looked up again. “But let us focus on what can be done rather than on what can no longer be undone. You said she fled to the Northlands?”
The Grand Inquisitor nodded. “She slipped away from right under our nose. Twice. The first time, when we tracked her to a little village near the Nesdalen border. The second time she beat us to the Coldwood, where we lost her track for good. She must be well and truly in the Northlands now and I am afraid they will the King would not be pleased if he found us meddling in his domain.“
Tiberius nodded. “There is not much that pleases him, anymore. His health seems to be among the things he grew weary of.”
The Grand Inquisitor inclined his head. “Yes, I believe you are right. Though I find it vexing, the best course is to wait. His son appears to have a more... positive view of the Guild. It would not be wise to jeopardize –,” Tiberius raised his hand indicating the Grand Inquisitor to stop.
“What do you believe, Apprentice Daniel? Should we stay our hands, waiting for a more opportune time, or act now, risking much?” The old man looked now firmly at him.
Daniel needed a moment to comprehend what the supreme mage had said. If the physical presence of man was impressive, his magical presence was something completely different. It was well known that Tiberius did not need to prepare spells in order to cast them, though no one knew why that was the case. But that did nothing to prepare Daniel for the overwhelming sense of magical power emanating from him. That's how the Source must feel. Immediately, he chided himself for the blasphemous thought, yet a small part of him continued to wonder.
Finally, he caught himself. “I... I mean, the Grand Inquisitor is surely right with his evaluation. The fate of one wild mage cannot be worth the ire of an entire nation. But still. Her... Her power was unlike anything I have experienced. Or even read about, save perhaps the Black War. I am sure you read all about it in our report, but her undead creatures... they were beyond horrifying. If there is anything we can do to catch her, we should at least consider it... I think.”
Tiberius smiled. “Yes. I fear you speak true. Is it not, after all, our duty to protect those that cannot protect themselves from the dangers of our power? Even if they scorn our aid?” Tiberius looked back at the Grand Inquisitor. “You will have a small team, a maximum of three people. Enter the Northlands with a convincing cover story, find the wild mage, and eliminate her. You will have the full support of the guild and its resources. Three weeks to prepare.”
The eyes of the Grand Inquisitor widened ever so slightly. A casual observer wouldn't have noticed, but Daniel had traveled with him for many weeks. The crack in the Grand Inquisitor's near-perfect facade was as clear as day to him.
“So she belonged to the Red Rebellion? One of them has survived? Our witnesses thought she was in her mid-twenties. Could they have found a way to sustain their youth for over twenty years?” The Grand Inquisitor paused for a moment. His face became a mask again. “I guess you would know how to extend your lifespan, wouldn't you?” Tiberius only answered with a slight smile and the Grand Inquisitor bowed his head before the supreme mage. “No matter. It will be done.” He turned to Daniel, something dangerous in his eyes. “It seems this story is not quite over yet. And I think you will play a very special role in it, Daniel.”
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Sven awoke with a start. He was lying on soft moss, the sun warming his skin ever so slightly and the trees of the Coldwood towering above him. Still alive, after all. And he felt... good? Better than good, he felt incredible. Sven laughed as he jumped to his feet, surprised by his strength. This was not at all how you were supposed to feel after barely surviving a demon attack. He looked around. He was still in the same clearing where they had made camp last night, but neither Lucia nor Ingrid were there.
He took in the destruction the attack had wreaked. Where the demon had appeared, the ground was torn apart, exposing the soil underneath. Soil which somehow looked blighted. It had an unnatural gray color and the plants in the middle of the clearing were already withering and dying. Then Sven saw the wagon. Or rather what was left of it. It was lying on its side, all four wheels and a good part of the front shattered, their belongings and trade goods haphazardly scattered in the mud. Their horses were nowhere to be seen. Sven took a step closer, examining the scene. All of their southern wine seemed to be lost, but he could save some of the spices. Maybe a third.
But Sven found that he no longer cared. He probably never did, now that he thought about it. When he'd gone with Olaf and Ingrid on their journey, he'd been driven by fear. Fear of disappointing his friends, fear of missing out on an adventure, fear of losing his only chance in life to make real money. But he wasn't afraid anymore.
Sven gathered his belongings from the odd-smelling heap, cinnamon, pepper, and wine really was a strange combination when he heard someone whistling in the woods. He whirled around, looking for something to use as a weapon. Neither Lucia nor Ingrid had deemed it necessary to leave their sword behind, where ever they were right now. He decided on a large stick but relaxed as Lucia entered the clearing. Whistling. With a hint of a smile on her face. That was a strange look.
“Good morning, Sven. Hope you slept well.” Her face took on the neutral expression, she usually had. “Looks like Ingrid ran away when the demon attacked. Can't blame her though. Hunger demons hijack your mind, boosting your desires until you break. And she probably wanted nothing more than to be gone even before the demon messed with her head. At least none of you started to eat themselves. I've seen it happen before and it's even worse than you think.” She shook her head in dismay.
Sven realized something. “I don't want to seem ungrateful, but shouldn't your back be still broken? Now that I mention it, my arms are no longer shredded to pieces.”
“Yes, the demon gave us quite the beating. You were almost a goner.” Lucia's eyes flickered to the place where their horses should have been. “I took the liberty to heal you, hope you don't mind. You might feel slightly euphoric at the moment, but that should be gone in a month, max. During the fight, you did... good.” She paused for a moment. “We'll have to travel without horses now, but they were dying anyway. Could have raised them afterwards, of course, but I think even in the more tolerant North, undead horses would've led to some awkward questions.”
Sven stared at her. “Wait, you can raise the dead? Like, bring them back as the undead?”
“Sure. Otherwise, I wouldn't be a very good necromancer, would I? Let's get going, we might reach the edge of the forest before night falls. As fun as that was, I'd prefer my next life-and-death fight in a different location. I'm old school like that.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
They were still walking two hours after the sun had set, but Sven didn't feel the slightest bit of exhaustion and Lucia didn't seem to mind either. In fact, Sven felt more energetic than ever before in his life, with the possible exception of this morning.
Though it was hard to tell, Lucia seemed to be in a good mood too, so he decided to start a conversation. She was just too interesting to not know more about her and he still had to get the sword somehow. Fighting her was no longer an option, though. He did no longer fear death, but being killed and then raised as an undead would probably suck. A lot. Besides, Lucia had been a lot nicer after their fight. There might be a different way.
“You said the demon boosts your strongest desire, right?” Lucia did not react. “Ingrid probably wanted to flee, so the demon forced her to do so. I wanted the sword, so I could think about nothing else until I got it and Baal helped to clear my mind. That was very nice of him, by the way. Are you sure he's all that evil?” Lucia continued to walk, saying nothing. “Anyway, what I wanted to ask is, what did the demon do to you? What the thing you wanted to do when the demon attacked?”
For a moment, Lucia did not answer. Then she turned to Sven. “Nothing. I wanted nothing, so it did not affect me.”
Successful, Sven smiled. She was talkative tonight. More than she used to be, at any rate. This would be a very interesting walk. “So you said you can raise the dead. Does that only mean animals, or can you raise humans as well? Before you answer: you said it yourself, I have no conscience anymore, so you don't need to worry about my reaction.” Lucia explained and Sven started to grin.
They made it out of the Coldwood that night and by the next noon, they were drawing near Southwatch, a small town that had grown around the garrison protecting the border. Nowadays the garrison's job was more about dealing with immigrants and travelers and maybe chasing some outlaws back into the forest than defending incursions from the southern kingdoms. During the peace of the last hundred years, the town had grown into a cesspool of smugglers, charlatans, and pickpockets, all trying to fleece the incoming travelers. In Sven's opinion, it was the worst the North had to offer. Except for maybe the cold. That was even worse.
Sven chuckled at the thought that he used to be afraid of Southwatch. The wicked city, as it was known where he'd grown up. After a year of traveling all across the Middle Lands, there wasn't much new Southwatch could offer him. Perhaps his lack of concern about entering the city could also be traced back to his total disregard for his health and safety. Who knew?
“I think Ingrid's with the patrol over there,” said Lucia, breaking the silence.
Sven raised his eyes, looking for the group Lucia meant. There was a tiny dot of people on the horizon. “You can see her from here?”
“No, but I can sense her life force. I've gotten pretty good at distinguishing how they feel.”
“And with life force, you mean soul?”
“Yes, at least a part of it. The life force is the part of the soul anchoring it to a physical body. Without it, or without a body to attach to in the first place, the soul slip away, back into the Source or perhaps into the Deep.”
“But you can manipulate the life force, right? So could attach a soul back to a body? Take the life force from somewhere else and bring someone back from the dead?”
Lucia shrugged. “I mean, how did you think raising the undead works? The problem's just that the Deep isn't a kind place for souls. Whatever comes back, it is not what I would call wholesome. You've seen the demon, right? Would you like such a thing to have a physical body? The best way to go about it is to only use the tiniest sliver of a soul. The Source knows there are plenty of them down there. That way, the undead is barely alive and has no free will or agency to speak of. It makes it easier for everyone involved.”
Sven gave her a strange look. “So you have done this before. Raising humans, I mean. No wonder the Inquisition was hunting you.“
They walked on for a couple more minutes before the mounted soldiers reached them, and indeed Ingrid was with them, although she looked worse for wear. Her clothes were muddy, her coat torn, and her eyes were sunken and spoke of exhaustion and despair. Sven gave her a grin and waved. “Ingrid!” he shouted over the clatter of the hooves. “You're alive, how marvelous.” Sven turned to the soldier in front of him, the leading knight with his grim face turned to Lucia. “When we couldn't find her, we thought the demon made her eat herself. Down to the last bit. It was a truly heartrending thought. But you brought her to us, thank the Source. And not one bite was taken from her. You have my thanks.”
The knight turned, giving Sven a short glance. Then he turned back towards Lucia. Without taking his eyes off her, he spoke. “They look surprisingly good for people who have just survived a demon attack.” The second soldier stopped to the right of Lucia. The other two surrounded them and stopped behind. “I'd say it's your lucky day, but that would be a lie.”
Ingrid gave Sven, who was still grinning, an apologetic look. “I told them everything, Sven. I had to. At first, I only wanted to get the guard to find you, but when I entered the city, I realized what I had to do. We can't let people like her in, it is just too dangerous. You are the living proof. The necromancer, she made you... this.” She gestured in his direction. “And I think that deep down, you know that this isn't right. Please don't do anything stupid and come with me. I am sure we'll find a way to help you. To undo the damage she dealt to your mind. I don't think I can forget what you did back in the forest, but maybe I can understand now. They can make you make things. Screw with your mind. I felt it when the demon attacked us. How it twisted my thoughts. It is... I am sorry for what you had to endure. Probably still do.” Ingrid shuddered. “But I know there is something left of you in there, it must be. So come with me. Please.”
Sven looked at her. Skeptically. “Do I get this right? You appeal to my conscience and what is left of the old Sven to bring back my conscience and what is left of the old Sven. I don't think you have thought this through. Besides, I'm not a whole new person – As I told you multiple times now – I'm still dear old Sven. I's just that now –,” he gave her a predatory smile, “I am unleashed.”
Ingrid nodded slowly. “If nothing else, then please remember that I tried.” Then she turned her horse around and trotted back towards Southwatch without saying another word.
Sven looked around as if noticing for the first time that they were surrounded. “Sooo, Ingrid spilled the beans, right? That's a bit awkward. Would you mind letting us go anyway? I pinky promise we'll be good.” The knight did not react to his outstretched pinky, which Sven acknowledged with a disappointed shake of his head.
Lucia had not moved since the soldiers had surrounded her. She simply stood in the middle of their circle, looking bored. She looked up as the knight addressed her, hand on his sword hilt, expression strained. “You have been accused of being a mage fleeing from the Middle Lands as well as a necromancer. You'll have to come with us and remain in the garrison's prison until an examiner arrives from Vysund to verify or refute the claim. Don't resist or we'll have to use force.”
Lucia shrugged and offered her hands to be bound. Sven's smile vanished from his face. “Wait, what?” he said. “What is with me?” Then he hissed in Lucia's direction. “And why are you not resisting?” She shrugged again.
The knight looked at him annoyed and a bit confused. “You've done nothing wrong, boy. You can leave whenever you like. Just don't be in our way.”
“Oh no no no,” said Sven with a rising voice. “Not so quick. I do intend to be in your damn way. I'll make you regret having gotten up this morning.”
The knight looked angry, then shocked, as Sven tackled the soldier who had dismounted to bind Lucia's hands.
“I WILL KILL YOU,” screamed Sven but his fists did little against the reinforced leather of the soldier's armor. “I WILL END YOU...” Sven clung to the prone soldier as the shocked soldiers tried to dislodge him with punches and kicks, but his high from Lucia's healing was overriding any pain for the moment. “... AND SEND YOU TO THE DEEP.” Unnoticed, a smile flickered over Lucia's face. Sven, seeing an opening, closed his jaws around the lying soldier's neck, biting down with all his strength. The man screamed and finally, the surrounding soldiers drew their swords.
“Enough,” said Lucia, and an unseen light blazed around her. The Soldiers stopped rigidly in their tracks and even Sven opened his jaws and let go of the lying soldier. The wounded man scrambled away as quickly as if the Infernals themselves were after him, collapsing only after the whole troop of soldiers was between him and Sven. “I think there was a misunderstanding,“ Lucia continued. The confusion was slowly clearing from the eyes of the soldiers. “I am here on the explicit invitation of King Gustav III, who has invited me to be his personal healer. The slander of me being a necromancer is pure fabrication. Sven here –,” she gestured towards Sven, who gave her a bloody smile in return, “is my bodyguard. He might have taken his duty a bit too seriously, but alas, he is how he is. I for one was hoping you'd take us to the garrison where we can send for the capital and get this mess sorted. Here, let me help you.”
Lucia walked through the group of soldiers, who were still too stunned to stop her. She cleared her hands from the remaining ashes and leaned against the horse as she bowed down to touch the man Sven had bitten. He gasped but after only a moment, his neck stopped bleeding. Then, fresh pink skin emerged from the bloody hole and the mark of Sven's teeth disappeared.
Lucia straightened. “You see? And if this sign of my good intentions is not good enough for you, then be assured: if you decide to kill me and my bodyguard here and now, the Kingsguard will find out – no matter what you try – and you will all die a traitor's death.” She gave the soldiers a cold look, then Sven. “Let's go to garrison and then send for Vysund. You should write the king that Lucia Threewater has arrived.”