The Grim Legion

by Kindred Ult

  She suddenly remembered court protocol and hurriedly stepped back and bowed down on one knee. She noticed that the chamber had grown silent since she had cried out, and now all of them were staring at the incident unfolding here. Her brother quickly stood from his throne and walked up to her.

  "Oh bother, don't do that. You know that you have as much right to be ruler here as I do you know."

  She smiled and stood to her feet. She swiftly looked around the room at all of the faces. "So, if you're on the throne, then that must mean that father…"

  "Yes," Skull's face was downcast. "He failed the final test a few years ago, and now he sleeps with our ancestors in the catacombs. The position of Lich Queen would have been yours but…" he tried to make it a joke, but it sounded a little bitter.

  "You didn't know how to contact me." Sophella finished for him. She knew that she had been forced to abandon her people, but she still felt responsible.

  "Exactly, so I had to become Lich King. And let me tell you, it's been like hell. I don't know how father managed to control these people." Skull stepped back and slumped back into his throne before continuing in a voice meant only for her ears. "As I'm sure you've noticed, there have been problems lately with our people. I didn't mean for it to happen, but I was too weak-willed. The aristocrats have made a definite barrier between themselves and the normal people. I don't know how I let it happen, but it's there now, and I don't know how to stop it. Look, they're even here, in the royal chamber, plotting and scheming." For a moment he looked young, as young as he had been before Sophella left, and she could feel nothing but pity for him. "Oh how I wish father were still alive. He'd now how to deal with all of these people. He would have never let them run all over him. He would have placed his foot down and they would have obeyed him. I just know it."

  "You've done the best you could." Sophella walked up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder as she had done so long ago. "Father would be proud that you've kept them alive in such perilous times."

  He tried to smile again, but it looked so sad. "I've done horribly, Sophella. For some reason I always thought that father would live forever, that he would pass the final trial. Even when I didn't think that, I always thought that you would come back and take control, that you would rule these people." He stopped and looked up at her with hope in her eyes. She could have cried seeing the pain in his face as he looked into hers as innocent as a child. "Have you come for that, Sophella, have you come to rid yourself of your vampirism and become our Lich Queen?"

  She looked down at him before ruffling his hair. "I never was a very good leader, Skull, but I may, if you truly do not want to and refuse my request."

  She wondered if she had said something wrong as his face changed. He looked so regal now, almost like father had looked when he gave orders. He raised his voice, so that now anyone who was listening, which was probably the entire room, could hear him. "What request would you make of me, sister?"

  She took a deep breath. "I would like for you to aid the vampires in the upcoming war with the werewolves."

  He did not lose his regal appearance. "War? What war?"

  "The final war between our two races. Much has happened recently, and I believe that we will be meeting in battle for the last time very soon."

  "Ah," he tilted his head to the side, questioningly. "And tell me, why should I help the vampires?"

  She did not hesitate. "Because I have sensed the werewolf army, and they measure over five thousand."

  There was an audible gasp from the entire room, and Sophella almost smiled. The knowledge had the effect she had hoped for. Her brother was absolutely astounded. "Five thousand?"

  She nodded. "Yes, my squad recently discovered their main lair, which means that we not only know how many of them we face, but also that a final war will be imminent. And though it pains me to say this, the vampires cannot win that war without the aid of our people."

  He looked unimpressed. "And… Why should we care again?"

  She was prepared for this question. "Because if the werewolves defeat the vampires, who are really the only ones holding them back, they will eventually take control of the entire forest, including here."

  "I seriously doubt they'll find us here." Skull scoffed.

  "Maybe not at first," Sophella replied. "But eventually there will be so many that even if they do not find you, you will still be forced to hide away in this mountain. How will you gather your food and water? You may survive for a time, but eventually the werewolves will discover you, and then you will be forced to battle them and die. You cannot defeat either race right now, and you will not be able to later, either. Now is the opportune moment for you to preserve your place in this forest."

  He thought about this for a time, but eventually he shook his head. "No, we can leave this place and live with a separate necromancer group outside of the forest if it comes to that."

  He was being unreasonable, and Sophella had not remembered him being so when he was younger. He had always been so amiable and easy to persuade. Something seemed different about him to her. He would not meet her eyes, and he constantly looked to the left of her. Sophella subtly flicked her eyes to the side and saw a woman sitting at the table closest to the throne. She was beautiful, in a strange manner. In truth, it was more appropriate to call the woman handsome. She was tall, even while sitting, and her brown hair was straightened to the extreme. A prominent bone structure and two brown eyes competed with her hawk nose to draw attention away from her thin lips. Like all of the others, she was silent and watching the conversation between Sophella and her brother, but unlike the others, she was staring only at Skull, and nodding.

  Sophella's eyes narrowed and she studied the woman. Somehow, she instinctively knew that the reason for Skull's weakness was this woman. Sophella knew her type well enough. She had probably worked her way to Skull while father had still been alive, and now she worked on him and bent his will around her little finger. The worst part was that he probably did not know that she was the reason for his failures, either.

  Sophella realized that, with this woman working against her, she would have only one way of securing the help of the necromancers for the war. She did not want to do this, but there seemed to be no other option. Walking towards Skull, she smiled dangerously.

  "Very well, little brother. You leave me no choice." She smiled inwardly as he shrunk back into his throne the way he used to when she used that voice. "I challenge you to a duel. The winner decides who will be the next ruler of our people, and if we will go to war or not."

  Skull was still trying to make himself as small as possible. "I-uh-um."

  "Or," she was directly in front of him; "you could surrender the crown to me now, or allow us to go to war."

  He was so intimidated that for a second she thought he might just do it, but then he looked to the side of her, and she knew who he was looking at now. Slowly, he relaxed and sat more comfortably in his throne. He raised his eyes to meet hers, and though he trembled, he had a determination she had not seen in him since she came here. "I accept your challenge, sister. We will fight in the pit, and to either death or surrender. As you say, the winner decides who the next ruler will be and if we go to war."

  Sophella smiled again. "Very well." She turned to go, but turned around when he called her name and swiftly plucked a flying white object that he had thrown to her.

  "My old staff!" She smiled at her brother and spun the white staff in her hand with familiarity.

  He chuckled. "Yep, we found it not long ago. I remember all the time you spent making it, and even though I was going to keep it, I can't even guess what weird spells you've placed on it. In all, it's best suited for its maker anyway."

  She turned and gave him a real smile, not one meant to intimidate, mock, or express superiority, just a genuine show of happiness. "Thanks Skull, and it is good to see you."

  "Likewise, I'll meet you there."

  As she walked out of the chamber, Sophella ran
her hand along the shaft of her staff and remembered how long it had taken to make it. It was a good staff, and she had spent hours grinding down bones into fine dust and then many days petrifying the bones into the shape she desired. While the approach had been painfully slow, it had given her plenty of time to weave as many wards, spells, and hexes into it as she felt were necessary. Casting spells on a staff were fine, but if you could do it while it was still in creation, then they were permanent, and never needed to be recast unless the spell itself limits its use. The powers inherent in this staff were such that she had never found any other to be its match. She had lost it when she was first Turned, and had rued that loss ever since. Of course, as Skull had said, it could only reach it's full potential in her hands. She had made sure of that.

  She found both Darren and Niethel sleeping soundly on the bench, with their legs on the far ends and their heads right next to one another. It was a comical sight, with Niethel on the far end drooling and Darren on the inside snoring softly, and Sophella allowed her self a short moment to enjoy it before smacking her staff down on Niethel's head, making him give a yell and fall off of the bench. Had this not been her original intent, she may have felt bad when his head smacked on the ground with a crack.

  "Son of a—" Niethel sputtered as he rolled over. When his eyes faced hers he froze in mid sentence.

  She leaned over him and looked down on him. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you, what'd you say?"

  "Nothing?" Niethel was still frozen in place, not even his eyelids blinked as he stared at her.

  "Nothing?" She raised an eyebrow and mimicked his voice.

  He coughed. "Nothing."

  "Good," she straightened. "Well, things didn't go exactly as I had hoped they would, so I'm going to have to battle the current Lich King in order to take command of our society. If I win, we'll go to war, but if I lose we'll have to go back to the vampires empty-handed."

  He hurriedly scrambled to his feet. "So… How do you win?"

  "I have to either get him to surrender or, if he will not, kill him." She hoped that she could get away with the former.

  "So, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, even I've heard of liches, and aren't they supposed to be all-powerful?"

  "Well, that's almost true. Liches are very, very, powerful, but he's not really a lich yet. The title of Lich King or Lich Queen is really just an honorary one we give to our leaders. We haven't had a real lich alive in this forest before in all of our history. There are several alive in the world at this moment, but none of them are reachable."

  "Oh," Niethel paused. "So… how do you become a lich?"

  She stared at him for a second. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you and bring you back as an undead." Without another word she began to walk back down the road.

  He growled under his breath as he ran after her. Why did she always get the good lines?

  Sophella stood in the middle of the large hole at the bottom of the cavern. The floor around her was littered with bones, and she knew the reason for it. Here were the traditional training grounds for young necromancers and also the dueling grounds for challenges. All excess bones were thrown into the pit, and over the years that they had been in the mountain the amount of bones inside the pit had become innumerable. It was perfect for a battleground, since all tools were readily at hand. Weapons were also thrown into the pit, so all beings summoned were also armed as soon as they came to be. In all, there was no better place for a duel. There was also many holes carved in the side of the hole in which spectators could watch the fights, and in short amount of time since her challenge, the benches were already filled. This was becoming quite the spectacle.

  She felt along the length of her staff as she stared blankly across the field. She could have levitated to the ground as easily as walked down the path, but she had used the time to re-familiarize herself with her staff. Most of the spells and wards she had put on it had immediately come back to mind, but a few had needed some deep probing, and some eluded her even now. She had a good idea of what she would try to do, but she was worried. She had been away for quite a few years, and in that time Skull must have changed drastically. There were countless directions he could have taken his necromancy, and she had no idea which one he had chosen or even how strong he was.

  She had deliberately taken her time walking to the arena, but even so she had reached here before him. This fact did not bother her, as she spent the time delving even further into her staff, but it did make her wonder just what he was doing. Any worry she might have had was made null, however, when he entered the arena from the other side of the stadium. She could see that he had changed out of his royal ceremonial clothes and into the traditional necromancer garb. As she looked at him she could not help but smile as she remembered why he hated to wear the black he was wearing now. It had always served to accentuate his striking face, and he had enough problems trying to downplay it without the help. With it on, she had no trouble seeing why he had been named Skull. All of the bones in his face were extremely prominent, pushing forward as if in competition with one another, and to add to this his skin had always been thin and stretched against his bones. One last touch was that his eyes had always been sunken inside their sockets as if he were an old man, and the final result was that his face really did look more like a human skull than a normal face.

  He wasted no time with greetings or pleasantries. He only raised his staff, made by morphing two hardened spinal cords together at the tail ends, in front of him. Sophella did the same with her own staff, and just like that the duel began. They both let go of their staffs immediately and as their weapons hung suspended in space they mimicked each other by bringing their hands together and tracing sigils in the air with the tips of their fingers. This first spell was the staple of any necromancer battle, and it was usually the spell that decided the battle.

  Sophella had not cast this spell in many years, but she was pleased to feel the old familiarity return to her. What was more, her vampiric powers allowed her to cast the spell with more speed and finesse than her brother. The result of her superiority was that she finished several seconds before him and as she ended the spell she felt more power than she had ever had as a human flow out of her. A shock wave of purple shot from the sigils in the air, and as it passed over the dead bones they began to twist and contort, forming themselves into vaguely human shapes. Once they became humanoid, the skeletal minions grabbed the closest weapon they could find and stood to their feet. As one they looked to her for direction.

  Sophella was amazed by the amount of skeletons she had raised. She had aimed for about fifty, but she could tell that she had at least eighty undead surrounding her. She looked over at her brother, who had just finished the spell and grabbed his staff from the air in front of him. When his spell had finished, he had brought out about sixty skeletons of his own, and he wasted no time in ordering them forward. Sophella reciprocated, and soon the two armies were silently charging each other.

  When they met they clashed against one another with a ferocity that belied their passive visages. Without thought to blocking, they slashed and stabbed at one another with an abandon that can only be achieved by knowing that you cannot feel pain or die. Their arms swung back and forth, not caring whether they hit friend or foe, and they continued to attack until their heads were separated from their bodies and the rest of their bones fell apart and hit the floor. The two sides passed into one another, and in seconds Sophella could not tell which ones were hers and which ones belonged to Skull. She saw him begin to repeat the spell, however, so she did the same. This time he summoned fifty, and she summoned seventy.

  She smiled. It was obvious that she would win the fight at this rate. Then, however, she saw him grab his necklace and quietly say something. She knew he was summoning his personal skeleton before it materialized next to him. Guardian skeletons were vastly different from normal skeleton in that necromancers spent years perfecting them. They were stronger, faster, and often had many nas
ty surprises. The only drawback was that, while a necromancer could control hundreds of normal undead, that same necromancer could control only ten or so personal skeletons.

  Sophella was glad that only one guardian skeleton was allowed in a duel, because she was sure that Skull had many diabolical personal skeletons in his repertoire. She herself had only one, which she had made during her years with the vampires, but she thought that it would be sufficient.

  When Skull's guardian skeleton fully materialized, Sophella began to doubt herself. It was truly something only her brother could think up. It had eight legs that constantly moved in a circle around four bodies that had werewolf heads at the top and large axes in their four hands. Inside their chests were the same moving bones as had been in the guard's skeleton.

  Skull sent his guardian skeleton along with the fifty new skeletons he had summoned, and once it reached the battle Sophella found out why she was right to be wary of it. It's chests opened like double doors and the bones moving inside it shot out of each like scorpion stingers. When the bone whips hit a skeleton, it would be blown to pieces from the sheer torque and power. Then, when the guardian got close, its bodies stuck out their axes and all of them rotated on some kind of an axis that was hidden inside them. As they spun, they sliced many more of her skeletons to bits and brought their bone whips back inside them. Once the spin was over, they shot out their whips again, and continued the routine from there.