Isaac’s eyes shot open and his first breath came out as a hoarse gasp. Air flowed into his lungs like fire and pain flared into a coughing fit. Spittle and blood covered his lips for a moment and he moved to wipe it but something jerked against his wrists. Head turning, he looked at his arms and they were bound to the ground by a dark energy. He strained against the restraints and looked at his other arm which was restrained the same way as well as his legs.
Gritting his teeth together he kept jerking against the restraints, feeling his muscles and legs straining. “Whoa there. Relax. You’ve been out for some time. I was worrying that I had botched the spell.”
Isaac craned his head toward the voice but he couldn’t see well from this position. The sky was dark, the stars pinpricking the velvet of the night sky.
“You. The man who spoke to me earlier,” he said and started coughing again tasting more blood against his lips. “I was dying. And now I’m-”
“Not? Correct. You can thank me for that,” Logs clacked together and a bright fire started nearby. “And if you’re going to keep behaving this way, I’m not going to answer your questions. Honestly I’d just leave you here. At the very least you’ve been a proof of concept.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Stop thrashing around. You’re going to break something and ruin all of my effort.”
Isaac scowled at the sky and tried to fight the restraints one more time before settling against the ground. “Fine,” letting his head fall against the ground his eyes shut before blinking open again. The dirt was hard packed and dried. He remembered it being moist earlier almost like mud. “Why am I restrained to the ground? By magic no less?”
“Well you’re restrained so that your body can continue to adapt to the procedure. And magic saved your life. Without me stumbling across you, you would have died in the field with the rest of those soldiers.”
“My battalion. My battalion. I have to join them! They’ll think I’m dead!” he said and almost started to move again but he fought the urge. He needed the information.
“They already think your dead. This battle was a massacre. I’d be impressed if more than a dozen men lived. For both sides,” he gave a sarcastic laugh. “The Sanctum and The Norians. Always fighting. Always giving me bodies to work with.”
“The Norians are a plague. Even its own people don’t love them,” Isaac replied scowling. “The Sanctum wishes to bring peace to this land.”
The stranger laughed, ending in a snort. “You can’t honestly believe that. The Sanctum wants to bring peace? They want peace to their wallets and their positions. They care as much for people outside their lands as much as you care about the crows that scavenge after a battle.”
Isaac turned his head again to glare but he couldn’t see him still. “The Sanctum means well. They’re flawed but they still try. The Norians just want to take and use and burn what they cannot.”
“On that we agree. Noria is a far cry from what it was,” the man said. “Regardless you’re in Norian territory so I’d watch what you say around strangers. Most hate the crown but some are still very loyal and very dangerous because of it.”
Silence stretched between the two of them for a long moment. Isaac’s breathing had gone to an even level and the burning subsided but there was a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t understand. It was just there, warming his entire body with each breath like a hearth. “I was dying. And now I’m not. You brought me back?”
“Indeed,” he said softly and Isaac heard the ground shift along with a metal sound like iron hitting wood. The crunching stopped and Isaac could just barely see the stranger. “You’re not fully healed but you’re far better than you were.”
He stood over Isaac wearing a shirt and pants hidden behind a brown cloak. A hood was pulled hard over his head and in one hand was a tall shovel. His hands were covered in bandages but they were heavily marked with runes and symbols. “I’m going to remove the restraints. Move slowly.”
Walking forward he tapped the butt of the shovel against his wrists and then both legs and took a step back dragging the shovel through the ground. The ground flashed for a moment and then he felt his legs and arms hit the ground properly. Rolling onto his side he felt stiff and every movement he heard a bone crack slightly.
The ground was dry and he finally wiped his mouth and coughed again, spitting up more until his throat was dry. He was still wearing his armor from the battle, pants with white armguards, shin guards and chest plate. Though when he checked his hip he was missing his sword.
A few strands of his dirty blonde hair fell forward and he grunted as he got to his feet. His skin was once heavily sun tanned but now it was deeply pale. His eyes were dark blue and his jaw was square. Recently shaved though there were a few scars from the efforts.
Glancing at his gloved hand he raised it and slowly flexed his fingers. He felt no pain, not even a stiffness. Reaching down he touched his stomach and felt nothing. Not good as new but his stomach didn’t ache him. If anything, it felt dry and tough. Like old leather.
Stumbling for a second, he turned to face the stranger, who he was taller than. Raising his head the stranger looked at him, his hood peeling back slightly revealing darker skin and long braided brown hair. His face was marked with stubble along the jaw but none around his mouth.
“Fascinating,” he said slowly as he stared at Isaac.
“What? Have you never seen a Sanctum Soldier?” Isaac asked.
“I’ve seen plenty in my life,” he said and walked back over to the fire. It had been built out of the remains of wagon. The wheel and spoke were presently being devoured by the flames and he was sitting on a box that had managed to survive the battle.
Isaac walked with him and sat opposite from him. The heat from the fire was far too intense for how small it was. He moved back, raising a hand to block some of the light away. “What magic have you used on this fire?”
“Magic? I haven’t done anything.”
“You must have,” he mumbled. “I feel like I’m standing in front of a furnace.”
“Interesting,” the stranger stroked his chin slowly. “Tell me soldier. What is your name?”
“My name? It’s Isaac. Isaac Grien.”
“Well Isaac Grien. I’m going to be honest with you because it doesn’t benefit me to lie about this experiment.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It will be easier to show you,” he stood up quickly and gripped the shovel with both hands. Once again Isaac felt magic on the air but more than before he could see it. The air rippled like water and the mage’s movements were fluid like a fish. Grooves within the shovel flooded with light and the fire went out suddenly.
Spinning the shovel, he stuck the blade into the ground and a ring of fire erupted around them. Startled Isaac jumped forward feeling the heat like a sauna. His legs went weak and he stumbled forward before finally sinking. His arms slammed into the ground like hunks of lead.
“What are you doing to me,” he whispered no energy to raise his voice which should have scared him but he couldn’t feel it in his chest. Couldn’t feel his heartbeat shaking. Couldn’t feel his pulse quickening.
“I’m not doing anything to you that hasn’t already been done,” the mage said walking forward slowly. “I presented you with a choice between life or death and you chose life. So, I gave you life again. Brought you back from the brink of death as a lich.”
“A lich,” he said with a sharp breath that burned on the way down.
“Indeed. The greatest form of necromancy,” the mage said and chuckled again. “You’re an impressive piece of work now.”
“You’ve cursed me! Turned me into an abomination! A creature of evil!”
“Really? Is that what you think?” the mage pulled back his hood revealing mismatched eyes. One silver with scratches over it and the other a deep purple with faint glow around the edges. His face was young, barely outside of his twenties. “Tell me what you know of Necromancers Isaac.”
A look crossed Isaac’s face. One of confusion but also disdain. “They’re mages with power of the dead. To manipulate their souls. To reanimate and trap them amongst this world to do their bidding.”
“Not entirely wrong. Some take pleasure in harming the souls in which they interact. To torture and eventually break them. I am not one of those. I simply want what I’ve given you,” he pointed at Isaac’s chest. “Immortality.”
“If you wanted to become a lich so badly why curse me with this. Why not do it yourself?”
“I had to test it first,” he shrugged. “I’d never do this without knowing the repercussions first.”
Silence fell over the pair, the crackling of the flames all that remained. Isaac stared at the ground his hands and arms not moving. He wanted to react, to do something but the reality of the situation crushed him. The church warned of necromancers, reclusive mages. The most dangerous and vile of them all. Even though Isaac knew mages weren’t nearly as bad as the church claimed, a necromancer was.
“So, what? Am I your slave now? To do whatever it is you wish?”
The mage snorted and even started to laugh taking a step back. “Not at all. We made a deal today Isaac and I’m a man of my word.”
“What deal?”
“I asked you what you wanted and you repeated ‘home’. You want to go home correct?”
Home flashed in his mind. A small cottage outside of the main city in the Sanctum. The small garden against the side and the man waiting for him. His chest ached at the memory and he took a burning breath before nodding.
“I can’t go home. Not like this.”
“You Sanctum soldiers are infuriating. Nothing about being a lich make’s you inherently evil,” he spun the shovel tapping the ground and the flames subsided to just a glowing ring on the ground. “You’ve been a lich for a few hours now. Have you felt the urge to take a life or go on a murderous rampage?”
Isaac stopped as if the question were some kind of trick before shaking his head. “No. I haven’t”
“Exactly. You’re still you Isaac. For the most part,” he chuckled softly. “As long as you keep you aren’t weak willed everything will be fine. So we’re going to go home and make sure you get there in one piece without trouble.”
Standing up slowly he glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean we?”
“I’m coming with you obviously. You’re my newest and greatest creation. I’ve got to observe you in the wild. For all I know you could fall over dead again after a few days.”
Isaac took a step back. “What are you talking about? I thought Liches were immortal beings of immeasurable power.”
“Traditional Liches yes. They’re mages who’ve crossed over. You’re far from a mage Isaac. So, you may need some looking over. And I’d like to take notes.”
Isaac scowled at him. “I’m not some sort of experiment.”
“Actually, you are,”
Isaac didn’t imagine this happening when he signed up for the mission that day. That he would become the experiment of some necromancer. That he would become a lich. That any of this would happen. He looked at his hand and frowned hard. It still felt like his hand but now it was alien to him.
“Fine.”
“Good,” he said and pulled his hood back on. “Now come. It’s better for us to travel at night.” He walked over the glowing ring and it broke away fading into the dirt and his cloak swept behind him.
“Wait,” Stumbling after him and hearing his armor clink together as he moved. “I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Shin. No surname. Just Shin the Necromancer. Now come my undead companion. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we’re going to get to make it out to the Sanctum.”
Isaac watched Shin walk across what was once a battlefield but turned around to face it. He could see the remains of soldiers, the red armor of the Norians and the silver and white armor of his comrades. Flashes of the battle, screaming, swords swinging and bouncing off armor and even the burning smell of magic fire.
It had been a bloody ambush and his comrades had fought well. He could remember the moment he’d gone down. One of his men were fighting and a Norian ran in from the side with a spear. Isaac called out to him in warning and knew he wouldn’t react in time.
So, spur of the moment, he turned and threw his shield at the Norian. Clipped him in the back and gave his man enough time to dispatch his first opponent and then turn to fight the other. But in doing that he took a blow from a huge axe. Taking it right into chest he managed to cut that man down but he couldn’t keep standing.
He’d fallen into the mud and was left to bleed out as he listened to the battle. He’d had no way seeing the tide of battle or who was winning. Praying was all that he could do for his battalion.
And now here he was standing over the bodies of some of them. How many had lived? How many had been slain? Would he even be able to find out? Glancing down he pulled off his glove. Staring at his hand he wasn’t sure if it was the light, if it was paranoia or if something actually changed.
Covering his hand again he looked away.. “Dear great Father. Please watch over the souls of my comrades. Welcome them into your arms and Aurgh!”
His hands jerked away, glowing a white light that burned his eyes like phosphorous. His hands felt like they were truly caught on fire and no matter what he did the burn didn’t stop. Shoving them against the ground he could smell it burning through the soil. The burning subsided after a few minutes but his arms shook with the pain of it all.
“You actually said a prayer. You’re a good one. I’ll give you that much,” Shin said leaning on his shovel and staring at him. “But I’d advise against doing that again.”
Isaac glowered at him. “I thought you said you and your kind weren’t evil.”
“I said necromancy isn’t inherently evil. Neither are liches. But evil is subjective. The Free City wouldn’t consider me evil. Neither would the Norians. But the Sanctum are always high and mighty. I take it your lord may consider what you are now to be some sort of evil and repel you. Your own faith is scorning you.”
Isaac glared as he turned around and tried to fight the pain. “How can I go back home if my Father rejects what I am.”
“Show him that you’re the same son you’ve always been. Or even better leave it. If he turns your back on you for something so small, maybe he’s not that great.”
“Watch what you say necromancer,” he said with a glare but looked at the ground. Taking a slow breath he pushed away his anger and thought. “There’s a town nearby. Where my battalion was supposed to rendezvous. And the next day we would start the long trek back to the Sanctum.”
“What’s your plan? Why do you want to meet up with them again?”
“Just to know which of my comrades lived through the battle. To make peace with all of this,” he said eyes going toward the ground. “And then we can go home.”
Shin stared at him then threw his hands sup. “You Sanctum warriors. So loyal. But you won’t be satisfied until we go will you?”
“No I won’t. It will bother me.”
Shin scowled, “Then let’s go. Waiting for you to come to a decision has wasted time.”
“You’re an impatient man,” Isaac noticed.
“Yes,” Shin turned whirling his shovel around sliding it into a holster on the back of cloak. Walking across the landscape he checked the ground and under the moon light he could see tracks. Reaching into the pocket of the cloak he unrolled a map and held it to the sky and stared at it for a moment. Taking a step back he turned around and tried to reorient himself when Isaac walked past him.
“Just follow me Shin. I remember how we got here.”
Taking a sharp right he confidently started walking in the opposite direction of the moonlight. There wasn’t much to see in this part of the country. There were a few trees that dotted the land scape but farming was never a major export of the Norian culture. At the very least no in this part of their territory.
The villages were spotted around the country side mostly small with a town square and nothing major. They weren’t very welcoming to strangers from what they had noticed on the way in. Despite Isaac being very obviously a sanctum soldier the local people didn’t alert the local militia or even oppose them.
“So tell me Isaac, why was the Sanctum here in Norian territory?”
“We came to reclaim this land. It’s a highly contested location by our nation. Something that rightfully belongs to the Sanctum.”
“Oh yes the squabbling between the two countries,” Shin said sarcastically. “You take a province and they take something back. The same give and take that’s been going on for the last few centuries.”
Isaac motioned into the distances. “The Sanctum may not be perfect but I’d prefer what they want to a life of servitude.”
Shin glanced at him and nodded. “I think on that we can agree. Then again being taxed forever is on par with being nothing more than glorified serfs.”
Cresting a hill they stared down to a valley that was still some ways away but the village was in plain sight. And even from where they stood it was painfully clear something was wrong. From the thin streams of smoke to the soft glow of the horizon that had nothing to do with the coming dawn.
“Let’s go out on a limb together. The Sanctum wouldn’t be that rowdy like that would they?”
“Never. Especially not this close to a battle we barely survived.”
Shin didn’t even have a chance to continue talking. Isaac had already left him, sprinting down the hill faster than he’d ever moved before. The idea that the village where his comrades had gone was in trouble or even worse that some sort of danger had beset it gave him strength and drive. Each step felt like five and each stride sent him soaring across the plain.
“I can’t tell if loyalty or something else drives you. Probably stupidity,” Shin watched him like a beacon of light across the plain and his eyes narrowed. “Show me what you can do.” Crouching he touched the ground and another circle of magic formed underneath him and then he vanished.
The Harlequin Library 