The Dark Necromancer

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by D. J. Zangari


  Iltar presses at a lip along the molding and the bookcase moves forward. It slides away and reveals a small chamber with a curving wall that leads to a landing which houses the base of a stairwell leading to the third floor.

  With a determined stride, Iltar steps through the opening in the bookcases and ascends the second stairwell.

  Atop the stairwell is a small anteroom with two doors, directly in front of the landing and to the right.

  Iltar clears his throat as he reaches for the doorway on the right and opens the door to reveal a brightly-lit study; it is very similar to the one below but with bookcases lining the walls on either side of the doorway. Two large glowing orbs sit atop two tall pedestals on opposite sides of the study. In stark contrast to its twin below, the study is in pristine order; bookshelves are neatly organized, some of which containing jars of various sizes and rows of scroll cases.

  “Welcome my friend,” Iltar’s guest states from a beautifully crafted high-back armchair at a table in the center of the room.

  The guest has a round face with skin that has become slightly darkened from days in the sun. Thick brown hair and a short beard of the same coloring accent his complexion. His deep set green eyes flash as he smiles with anticipation at Iltar, their color exaggerated by the dark green tunic and pants.

  “You sure took your time getting here,” the guest states and rises to his feet. He stands eye-level with Iltar but is of a more muscular build.

  “I had to deal with some business in the city Cor,” Iltar snaps as he walks into the study.

  “I thought you would be eager to see what I had sent you word about?” the guest’s voice has a tone of intrigue and excited anticipation.

  Iltar growls and shakes his head as he retells his frustrations, “Stupid acolytes! They think just because they can control a little power that gives them the right to dictate to the council. I had to teach them a lesson, one they won’t soon forget!”

  “I hope you didn’t kill any of them…” the guest puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head. “New necromancers are becoming hard to find.”

  “No Cornar,” Iltar sternly stares at his guest. “I killed no one, however they may wish I had. Those insolent fools have a long way to go before becoming true necromancers, and they had better learn to respect their wise elders… or else.”

  Cornar chuckles and grins widely, “When you were a young necromancer you were just like them.”

  “One difference,” Iltar barks and raises a finger to his guest, “I was powerful and smart enough not to get into a public altercation with the council.”

  “Yes,” Cornar quells his laughter, “That’s true. You did things behind closed doors, very effectively I might add.”

  “With your help,” Iltar grunts and chuckles then walks toward the left side of the table in the center of the room. He comes to a high-back armchair identical to the one Cornar had been sitting in and pulls it away from the table.

  As Iltar sits down he notices two books and five red scroll cases to his left near the end of the table. The necromancer raises his brow as he nestles himself into the lush fabric covering the soft cushioning of the chair.

  “So, what is so secret that warrants us meeting in private and at this late in the evening?” Iltar asks as he moves his eyes back to Cornar.

  With a reminiscent smile upon his face, Cornar moves to his chair and sits down then boldly states, “As you know we have been sailing around the Forbidden Sea for the last several months, trying to find the island of legend; the Isle of the Ancient Ones.”

  “Yes, I know of the expedition,” Iltar’s tone grows heavy with agitation. “Did you find an island? Is that your important information?

  “If so, and that’s all you have then you will suffer the same fate as those acolytes–”

  “Just calm down and listen,” Cornar slams his hand on the table, he leans forward with a stern expression yet his eyes still show his excitement. “Yes, we found the island, but that’s not what’s important.”

  Iltar folds his arms with disgust, but continues listening to Cornar.

  “What is important is what we found on the island, rather, something I found. I didn’t show them to anyone, but smuggled them away. I knew you would know how important this discovery was, the council would just argue and debate over it, or perhaps worse.”

  Iltar raises a brow at Cornar then looks at the seven foreign objects on the table and back to his guest. “What about Krindal? Are you sure he doesn’t suspect you found something?”

  “No,” Cornar shakes his head and grins, “I used my men to distract him while I snuck these aboard the ship.” Cornar motions with his hands at the books and scroll cases on the table. “My men didn’t completely see what I had either. Nor would they say anything if they did.”

  “I’m intrigued,” Iltar relaxes himself and rests his hands on the arms of the chair. “Go on with this discovery of yours.”

  “I found several scrolls and two books. The books tell the history of the war between the mythical platinum dragons and the other dragon breeds. Apparently these other breeds were evil chromatic dragons, along with metallic–”

  “I know about this legend Cor! I was taught it in my youth. Get on wit–”

  “Patience Iltar,” Cornar snaps back and shakes his head at the necromancer in front of him, “Did those youthful tales ever talk about how the war ended? How the platinum dragons were able to defeat the other dragons, once and for all?”

  “Not really. There was something about a magical artifact that the platinum dragons created that defeated the other dragons. Other stories attribute the victory to the aide that men and elves gave the platinum dragons. I think the latter is just stuff made up by humans and elves to appease themselves.

  “Did you find the reason the platinum beasts won?”

  “Yes I did,” Cornar’s grin turns to a wide smile. “In the books it tells a story much like the first one you mentioned. It appeared to be a generalized history of the events surrounding the war, including maps of the ancient world. The books read as if they were a part of a public library. The most intriguing point of the literature was the mention that the platinum dragons developed magical devices that helped them win.

  “There’s not much more said in the books, but the two scrolls I could read give more detail. The first scroll stated that the platinum dragons created a means to open a portal between worlds. They wanted to exile the warring dragons from Kalda–”

  “That’s incredible!” Iltar bursts with excitement and leans forward. “Does it say how they did it?”

  “Well… not exactly how. It says they used magic on rogulin crystals to transform them into a unique stone, called the Tethering Stone. It tells what they used and vaguely describes the ritual.”

  “So they sent the evil dragons to other worlds…?” Iltar grazes his hand over his gray facial hair. “That’s incredible! No wonder we don’t see any dragons anymore and haven’t for hundreds of years.”

  “Yes that would explain things all right,” Cornar adjusts himself in his chair before continuing. “However, there was an even more remarkable find in the second scroll.

  “It explains that the most aggressive dragons were the red dragons. In fact the scroll stated these were the only dragons the platinum dragons truly feared. After all, they were the dragons that started the war in the first place, enticing the other dragons to side with them and attack the platinum dragons. These red dragons were deceptive and diabolical; I’m sure you would have enjoyed their company.”

  “I know I would have,” the necromancer sneers, “Is there more?”

  “Yes. The scroll also talks about a second magical device; an amulet crafted by the platinum dragons and called the Amulet of Draconic Control. Its key component was a red ruby, called the Ruby of Lish. When the ruby was inserted into the amulet the wearer could completely control red dragons.”

  “If they could control the red dragons why did they need to exile t
hem?”

  “The scrolls are not specific,” Cornar shrugs and shakes his head. “Although I gather that the control was difficult and it took a great deal of concentration to command a large group of dragons. I guess the influence would work just long enough for the platinum dragons to open the portal to the other world and send the dragons through it.”

  “Do the scrolls state where this amulet is located?”

  “Not in what I can read. There are three other scrolls with writing I cannot decipher. That is another reason I brought these to you. It looks like elven text. I know you can read many forms of elvish and I thought you might be able to read the writing. It may shed more light on this amulet and where to find it. Perhaps an adventure is in store,” Cornar smiles as he speaks the last.

  “You were wise to bring them to me. Leave them here and I will study them. Thank you my friend. I apologize for my harsh words earlier. I was still in a foul mood,” Iltar replies through a twisted smile.

  “No offense taken. I knew you would be glad to hear about what I brought back,” Cornar slowly rises to his feet. “I will take my leave of you now. Karenna and I will be staying at our home in the city for the next few days if you have further need of me.

  “Good evening Iltar,” Cornar bows and walks to the door.

  “Good night Cornar. Remember do not speak of this to anyone,” the necromancer speaks flatly, but his eyes are fierce. “If I am satisfied, you will be well rewarded.”

  Amused by the necromancer’s remark, Cornar nods his head and leaves the room through the same door Iltar entered.

  The necromancer sits in silence as he hears Cornar’s footsteps on the stairwell.

  “The power to control dragons…” Iltar whispers and slowly chuckles. “I will unravel its secrets and it will be mine, nothing will stand in my way of possessing it.”

  After a moment, Iltar takes a deep breath and arrogantly straightens himself up in his chair. He turns around to the bookcase behind him and grabs a handful of polished black stones; then after placing them on the table he grabs the nearest scroll case and holds it in his hands. His fingers graze across the porous texture.

  “Let’s see which one you are,” Iltar muses and opens the case. He pulls out a rolled parchment which is perfectly preserved. The necromancer gently sets the scroll on the table and carefully unravels it.

  After a moment, writing in the common language of Kalda comes into view.

  “That’s not it,” Iltar states and re-rolls the scroll, placing it back in its case.

  Iltar grabs the next nearest scroll case and discovers a smaller roll than the first he had handled. The necromancer cautiously unrolls the old parchment onto the table.

  Within a moment portions of a map come into view. It is an atlas of Kalda, the topography of old cities and various landforms are familiar to the necromancer, although marked in an elvish script.

  “What are those?” Iltar whispers as his attention is caught by two red dots; one in the southern hemisphere toward the middle of the map by a familiar island called Merdan and the second in the Western Sea by an island. “Locations of the amulet perhaps?”

  Iltar focuses on the island on the western part of the map and slowly speaks the words as he translates them, “Draco Isola… the dragon’s island.”

  “Well that makes sense,” Iltar furrows his brow as he thinks aloud, “But why Merdan?

  “Did Balden ever talk about dragons?” Iltar wonders aloud about one of his former apprentices; who was born on the island and raised in the city of Keth. “He always spoke about the forsaken elven city of Merda, but it has since become haunted by undead… or so the stories say. And Balden always wishing to liberate it,” Iltar laughs and shakes his head.

  “But what significance does a deathly place like Merda have to be singled out. And when did the stories start about the undead?

  “I must look up more information about that with the Order of Histories later.”

  Iltar takes another look at the map and notices faint writing under the dragon’s isle. He quickly turns around to grab a magnifying lens from the bookshelf and focuses it on the island.

  “Dralin… death?” Iltar wonders and scrunches his nose as he translates the elven word, “Or burial ground? Could this mean that this island is a graveyard for the dragons? Or a battle site? Intriguing…”

  With that said, Iltar sets the magnifying lens down beside the map and picks up a third scroll case.

  It is dented in several places and has a small hole on one of its sides. The necromancer opens the lid and gently slides the scroll out. A small flake of parchment falls from the scroll and Iltar immediately stops his pull. He slowly sets the case down next to the map and resumes gently tugging on the old parchment.

  Pieces of the scroll fall to the table’s surface as Iltar painstakingly removes the rolled parchment and sets its main body on the tabletop. Much of the scroll is broken up, and its pieces are partially faded.

  Iltar lets out a low growl, but takes a deep breath to control his frustration. As he lets out his breath he mutters, “Cornar must have damaged this when he first inspected it.”

  With a steady hand, Iltar rolls out the damaged parchment and secures it with four of the small polished weights. He then examines the pieces of the scroll that had broken off during his removal of the old parchment from its case.

  A labored sigh leaves Iltar’s lips, and he turns around, grabbing a pair of small metal tweezers from the shelf behind him. As he turns back around Iltar shakes his head and mutters, “This is going to take some time.”

  * * * * *

  After an hour of meticulously reconstructing the scroll, Iltar stands up and takes a deep breath. He studies the scroll for a moment and shakes his head.

  The elvish writing is faint in many places and parts of the scroll are completely missing; however, there are some letters of words and parts of sentences that are eligible. He begins his translation with the most visible of the elvish writings.

  “ ‘Herein l… most … map of K...’ Kalda I assume. ‘Upon this … locations of the … and … signified … marks, dotted … by … Merdan and … Isola.’

  “ ‘First Draco Isola, a site … battle…e tide of the Thousand … where the A…a’k was fir… used. However, in … times th… dragons of Kalda come … end of their days to rest … to join … the Creator of All.’ ”

  “So it is a burial ground,” Iltar states with a chuckle and continues verbally translating the scroll.

  “ ‘There is a large cave near the center of the island and a tunnel leads through the mountains to the ...’ hmm, perhaps interior? ‘There are cliffs and crags surrounding the perimeter of the island. The only way … island is at beach above the ma… args along the shore’.”

  “Interesting…” Iltar smiles and raises his brow. “A treasure map of sorts, how intriguing.”

  “ ‘Within the sacred … lies the secrets to obtaining … the Au’mi... However the … kept by a guardian. … here is hidden, so that … needed, the amu… dragon… can be reforged.’ ”

  “Perhaps within a secret vault or store room,” Iltar wonders aloud. “It would make sense to hide such a powerful weapon and have some sort of sentinel to watch over it. The amulet must be on that island.”

  Iltar returns to the text and is met with a faded portion of the scroll. He skips beyond the lighter writing and continues to read another section.

  “ ‘At Merda the secrets are hidden’; hmm what…? oh I see the red dot on the other map. ‘It is the location of…’ of what?!” the necromancer shouts and shakes his head in frustration, “Why does this section have to be so decayed?

  “ ‘…other information as…’ What other information?”

  Iltar slams his hand on the armrest of his chair. After taking a deep breath, he continues reading. The rest of the scroll concerning Merda is worn or has parchment missing, rendering the latter part of the section devoid of useful information.

  The rest of the s
croll is completely faded, and Iltar returns to the middle section of the scroll to search for clues by use of the magnifying lens.

  After several moments of reading and re-reading Iltar can make out a few words.

  “The s…. ‘stone perhaps?’ is essential to completing the amulet, without it the metal jewelry is useless. With a shi…, one can transverse the … to the realms of exile. However this knowledge was also hidden away after the last of the chromatic brutes were banished, … deep in a place where only the platinum dragons would know. Fearing that a remnant of loyal… the Lords of Metal separated … of understanding away. This was done to create a reserve of knowledge and resources if the main reliquary were to be … knowledge lost among the keepers of dragonkind.”

  Iltar puts down the magnifying lens and sighs in frustration over the deteriorating knowledge of the dragons and their magical powers.

  “This middle passage is too vague! What is it talking about? The ruby or that tethering stone?”

  At that moment, fatigue overcomes Iltar. He takes a deep breath, stands and places his hands on either side of the table. The tired necromancer closes his eyes and rests them for a moment.

  A thought pierces through his exhaustion; “I can’t take these anywhere, they’re too fragile.”

  Iltar straightens up and brings his palms to his face. He rests his eyes within the balls of his hands as he speaks to himself, “It’s best to copy them to fresh parchment so I do not damage them any further. Especially since I will need to take them with me on this journey,” he says the last with a cheerful, yet diabolical disposition.

  Turning around to the bookcases on the wall behind his chair, Iltar grabs several blank scrolls, used for writing spells, and returns to the table to copy the map and the four other scrolls.

  With red-rimmed eyes and a shaky hand Iltar transcribes the map and text as best he can onto the blank parchment. Iltar painstakingly redraws the map and copies the text within the scrolls.

  As Iltar finishes his work he sits back in his chair, he sighs and a glimmer of light catches his attention from out of the corner of his eye. He turns to the window of his study and sees the dawn breaking over the horizon.

 

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