Linaera sighed, but she was proud despite herself.
“How did her get out of here so fast anyway? He seemed... superhuman.”
“Ah, you’ve finally noticed. Neshvetal is undead; his power has reached to such a height that he lives entirely off it, draining energy from the afterlife to sustain him. This makes him powerful. And extremely fast, as you’ve noticed.”
Linaera shivered.
“That’s just creepy. Why would anyone want to do that?”
“Power. Why do you think?”
“Would you give up life for power?”
For the first time Linaera had seen, Leira looked uncertain.
“I… don’t know. Sure, being strong and fast and not sleeping is cool and all, but to never sweat after a hard run? To never feel your heart beating or your lungs filling up with air? I… I’m not sure. I’d have to think about it.”
Linaera was glad that at least she wasn’t totally off the cobbles. Yet.
Linaera sighed once more, and sat down.
“Do you think I should talk to him?” she asked, though in truth, she did not know why she needed to do so. He had, after all, kidnapped her and killed her friend.
“No, let him cool down. Maybe you should read some more? I’ve got more scouting to do, anyway. Damn Neshvetal is paranoid of elementals, even though they’re said not to have existed for thousands of years.”
“Elementals?” Linaera asked, curious to hear that something could ruffle the seemingly undefeatable necromancer.
“Oh, just old tales. They say they are beings made of energy, with control over the weather, and a hell of a lot more. Supposedly, they reside over certain ‘areas’ – things like lakes, mountains, forests… Anyway, they all share each other’s territories, with more powerful elementals ruling larger things, like oceans or mountain ranges, and weaker elementals being in charge of singular things.
“It probably just came about as a way for people to explain the strange and unpredictable weather patterns of this place, but Neshvetal isn’t taking any chances.”
Maybe I can use that to some sort of advantage, she thought. If I ever get out of this place alive, that is.
Linaera said goodbye, and left for the book room. As she wandered past the now familiar corridors, an idea began to form. By the time she was at the library, it had formed into a fully fledged plan.
***
Eiliara? Are you there? she called, hoping the necromancers weren’t in tune to her mental conversations.
There was a momentary pause; suddenly there was a response:
Linaera! I knew you’d come. Now, what have you been doing? I felt a lot of magic being used, but I was too cautious to investigate.
I’ve mastered the control of light.
There was a mental silence.
Are you serious… ? Linaera, that’s amazing news! How did you manage it?
Linaera briefly explained her experiences with Neshvetal and how she conducted the tests. When she was done, Eiliara was telepathising again:
So, the bastard wants to see how good you are. I’m glad you gave him a scare; he is far too confident of his own power. But I see something is on your mind, Linaera.
Yeah. Leira just mentioned it to me, something about ‘elementals’.
Do tell, Eiliara asked, her curiosity piqued.
Apparently, Neshvetal still believes they may exist. From what I gather, Neshvetal might be… disturbing them, with his magic.
Hmm, well yes it figures, him messing with the weather and all that. Truthfully, these are probably old wives’ tales. I still don’t know where you’re going with this… ?
What types of behaviours could an angry elemental display?
Well, hypothetically, I imagine there would be wild weather, attacks…
Hold on to that thought. You think you could destroy some of his army? Just enough to make him leave?
That is interesting… I can certainly practise my skills. I’m not very in control of magic right now.
Linaera found this confusing.
Huh? I thought you’re supposed to be a Silver Mage?
Yes, but have you ever tried using magic without spells?
It was obvious really. Linaera cursed her stupidity.
Of course, it must be extremely problematic.
Yes, and I’ve broken quite a few pieces of furniture. It’s a good thing this place is too obnoxiously huge for them to notice.
Well, do your best. Hopefully, I’ll survive a few more days.
Linaera felt Eiliara’s compassion brush against her mind.
Be careful, Linaera. There’s no Terrin to guard your back here. With that, she vanished to some other part of the castle, presumably to test her undead killing skills.
Linaera decided to leave the reading. She was too distracted with her plans, and besides, she really wanted to know what could touch the untouchable Neshvetal.
TWENTY FOUR
Linaera walked towards the necromancer’s study, where she guessed he would be sulking. Time had passed; it was nearly night. The long, winding stairs were just as exhausting as they had been before – Linaera guessed that was deliberate on Neshvetal’s part, to tire anyone from disturbing him.
Unfortunately, it would not work for Linaera.
Her breaths heavy, she finally arrived at the study. The door was there, as usual, its small proportions looking out of place in this castle of grandeur.
She knocked on the door. There was a pause. Then:
“Come in, Linaera.” He sounded exasperated, but not entirely surprised.
Linaera opened the door. Like the last time she had been there, the room was relaxing in all its wooden-framed glory. This was further enforced by the fire cackling in the previously unseen fireplace. Neshvetal was sitting on his chair, next to a simple (oak) table. He looked weary, if such a thing were possible.
Outside, it was indeed darkening; but Linaera could still see the snow reflecting the last vestiges of light.
Linaera fully intended to ask him why he had taken off after seeing that illusion, yet somehow, a different question escaped from her lips.
“Why are you evil?”
Neshvetal laughed, but it was a hollow sound.
He turned, his eyes cold and desolate like the mountains outside.
“What makes you so sure I’m evil?”
“You’ve killed countless innocent civilians making those undead. I’m confident in saying that you’ve probably done much more besides. And you’re keeping me here against my will.”
“But isn’t ‘evil’ an arbitrary concept, invented by man?”
“What do you mean?”
“Anyone can judge another person using their own moral values. But in the end, it’s all in their minds. Take, for example, the drunk man attacking another man because he offended him – and said man died. What if the dead man was his friend, and the drunk man regretted it? Some people could judge him and say, ‘murder is murder.’ Others will say that he was not in his right frame of mind.
“Let’s now say that the dead friend’s brother decided that it was immoral, and took it upon himself to kill the drunk man in revenge. Who is evil and who is not?”
“The drunk man was obviously evil, because he regretted it. Drinking is irresponsible, and the committing a crime while drunk does not excuse you. The brother’s actions were wrong, because in the end, it did more harm than good.”
“But let’s say a queen started a war in order to overthrow a leader who was killing people that she thought was unjust. She would not regret her actions, even if it killed thousands.”
“That depends. If the other leader had been killing many people, than in the long term, it would have been justified; letting him continue would have resulted in far more people suffering.”
Linaera paused, confused by the turn in the necromancer’s behaviour.
“So you believe in a system of absolute morality, that all actions can be equated in a system of utility?”
/> “Yes.”
“But how do you know when someone is happy?”
“What do you mean?” Linaera asked, puzzled.
“Let me give the example of the drunk man again. The drunk man is poor and his wife hates him. He drinks, and when he does, he forgets all his worldly troubles; he becomes, in a sense, free. Is the drunk man happy, or not?”
Linaera paused, thinking.
“I would say he isn’t happy. The man is not in his right state of mind – drugs cannot equate to true happiness.”
“Let’s use another example, then. Let’s say a parent decides for a child that they cannot go out past ten. They say it is for their own good; that they know better than the child.
“But this leads to several problems. Firstly, how do we know when a person is in the ‘right state of mind’? For all we know, they might be in the right state of mind, but not us. We cannot really say. Secondly, how can we say we know what another person wants better than they do? At what point is that child old enough to decide? Is there even a fixed point?”
Linaera genuinely could not think of a response to that. No one had ever managed to make her think like this.
The necromancer smiled.
“You see, you cannot really be sure, can you? Why don’t you sit?” He offered her a chair. Linaera sat down, no longer concerned with putting up the show of defiance. That’s right, Linaera. Let him think he’s softened you down.
Outside, the sky was dark. The stars had come out; they glowed brilliantly, looking as alien and unconcerned with the trivialities of human life as the gods they were meant to represent.
“Where do you think the stars came from?”
“I was taught that the stars originated from gas clouds.”
“And how did they form from that?”
“By the same force that keeps us glued on to this planet,” Linaera replied.
“The question remains: where did the gas come from?”
“They must have been here since the beginning of the universe.”
“And where did our universe come from then?”
“My teachers disagree on this. Some say that our universe came from one Creator, while others argue that our universe is part of many, and forms up an infinite system.”
“What do you think?”
“I favour the latter. It doesn’t really make sense for there to be a Creator – after all, it would have to be a Creator more complex than the universe it created.”
“That does seem like a logic error. The question is: do our observations hold true outside of our universe? After all, they are limited by our flawed observability.
“Let me give you an example of this principle. Let’s say I had a particle. This particle is very small – so small, in fact, that we cannot accurately observe it. Therefore, in this particular case, our space-wide assumptions may prove incorrect in this particular stretch of space.”
“So then how can we accurately observe said particle?”
“A god might be able to see the full truth.”
“Then this god would have to be outside the realms of our observative spectrum, no?”
“Indeed.”
“Isn’t that a pointless aspiration then? After all, if this is unobservable, its existence becomes utterly irrelevant; we cannot know its ‘true’ reality.”
“But then, what is reality?”
Linaera stopped to compose her answer.
“I would say it is what our eyes, ears and noses can detect.”
Neshvetal chuckled.
“Very well, Linaera. It is late now – why don’t you go to sleep?”
Linaera left.
Her head was still spinning by the time she reached her bed.
TWENTY FIVE
Nateldorth was in his apartment’s sitting room, sipping a cup of tea. Besides him, Elrias was drinking too.
It was twilight outside; and the recently fallen snow gave the entire city an eerie grey glow that pervaded into the room itself. The temperature had fallen significantly over the past few days, signalling a harsh winter to come.
It was just another annoyance for Nateldorth.
“Tea’s good, Nateldorth,” Elrias commented. He was wearing his usual blue enchanter’s robe, but it hadn’t been cleaned in a while – a testament to how tired Elrias really was, considering he was always scrupulous in his attire.
“Thank you. It was imported from the south; it’s called Jasmine’s Breath. I first had the pleasure of tasting it when I was in the desert down south. Very potent though.”
“Indeed.”
Awkward silence descended.
“Nateldorth… why did you send Jal instead of a trained mage?” Elrias asked, reverting to their old conversation.
“Elrias, I’ve told you this before and I’ll say it again: mages are too conspicuous. It would have been apparent that they had been trained in the academies. Anyone capable of concealing their power and training would already be well known by the dark mages – memorised by heart, even.”
“I know, but… a magic-less thief? Surely you could have found a mage suitable for this task. A recluse, perhaps?”
Recluses were mages who had trained in secret for a variety of different reasons, usually because their parents hadn’t agreed to their training. Concealment would have been taught to them from day one.
“And Elrias, how much time would it have taken for us to find a recluse? Certainly more than we can afford, I assure you,” Nateldorth replied.
Elrias sighed. He soon changed the conversation:
“I still don’t know what motivation they could have for doing this.”
“It could be internal or external. A disgruntled – or simply ambitious – noble may wish to take the Queen’s place, and they are evidently happy to use whatever means at their disposal. Or they could be external, and may be the beginning stages of an invasion.”
“Who would be stupid enough to try and invade Arachadia?”
“I know that the Sandwalker tribes are very aggressive, and have caused us numerous problems in the past. I also know they have some powerful magicians in their midst. There are many others jealous of Arachadia’s success, regardless.”
The two paused to sip more tea. It helped relax the strenuous conversation. Elrias’s face became a frown as he considered another idea.
“What if these attacks are not politically motivated, but aimed at us?”
“I have considered the possibility. Yet it doesn’t make sense for someone in the Royal Court to be involved.”
“Mayhaps it’s a stab at misdirection?”
“You’re right, it’s certainly a possibility.”
Elrias stopped again. Judging from his body language, Nateldorth guessed that something was up.
“Elrias, what is it?”
“I’ve received a message from Jal. He has given me the date and location of a meeting in his ‘unit’, as he calls it. Apparently, the unit supervisor will also be there – someone who may know the ‘Master’.”
Nateldorth put down his cup, surprised.
“Why Elrias, that’s excellent news! Prepare a group of mages. Skilled ones, mind you. I plan on catching up with this ‘supervisor’, and finding out just what dubious acquaintances he has.”
But Elrias did not look pleased.
“I am uncertain, Nateldorth. Something doesn’t feel right about this.” With that, he turned and left.
Nateldorth had been told that once…
***
“Great Mage.” The man bowed.
No hair chose to grace his scalp – a topic of much chagrin, Nateldorth knew. (He always examined potential opponents.) The man’s eyes were clear blue; much lay underneath.
Beside him, there were two women: one was dark haired, the other platinum haired. They both had peculiar green eyes. (Nateldorth was reminded of old plays where hags ate children. The eerie coldness behind those eyes would have suited the mythical beings perfectly.)
All wore the silver
robes that displayed their positions.
“Rise, Haldric. Do you know why you have been summoned here?” Nateldorth asked. He quite enjoyed the authority his new position as Great Mage afforded him. Near him, Atar – his secretary and adviser – stood to attention.
He was an old man, but still tall in the way ancient trees are. He had been adviser to the mage before Nateldorth (who had eventually died – of natural causes). His eyes were golden, like his hair, concealing just how old he really was.
“Yes, Great Mage. To do your bidding,” the man replied wryly. Laughter echoed in the meeting room.
It was a sunny day outside; the birds were chirping, blissfully unaware of the foul and terrible atrocities being committed inside.
Other mages of all different ranks – personally selected by Nateldorth – lay standing. They had to run cooling spells on themselves to avoid simmering in the uncomfortable heat.
“Indeed Haldric. For today, we have to do something of great importance – and unpleasant, as well. Today, we must kill a faerie,” he proclaimed.
Silence descended. He had everyone’s attention.
“As you all may know, our friend Neras has publicly shunned this organisation with his relationship. Faeries are dangerous beings that do not have the moral code of us humans.
“Because of their amorality, they cannot be allowed free reign into Arachadia, contrary to what Neras says. Neras is a good man, make no mistake; but the longer he remains near her, the more polluted his mind becomes. We must put an end to it.”
Murmurs followed his speech. Nateldorth knew he had to win the support of his fellow mages if he stood any chance of remaining in his position. He had achieved his goal by beating Neras: unfortunately, being Great Mage involved more than just magic.
“Nateldorth, are you sure assassination would sit well with the new Queen?” one member asked. He had ruby eyes, and a tall but slim stature. Nateldorth knew him as the one who loved arguments.
“The Queen must not know about this. This is a matter of magic.” More uproar.
The Necromancer: New Edition: Republished 2016 Page 20