by J D Franx
"I am not sure, Madam. Why would you willingly choose to stay among these vile practitioners of the dead? Return with us to Ellorya where you can take your rightful seat as the living goddess of my people. You belong with the only country in Talohna to worship you. Your people, the Fae, would never have lent their support to a country so obsessed in the dark workings of black magic."
"You know my people personally, do you, Emperor?" Ember replied testily.
"Of course not, Your Eminence, that would be impossible—"
"My people believed in peace and healing. My genetic memory tells me that, but they have also fought in many wars. Do not assume to know anything about me or the Fae. I mean you no harm, Emperor, and neither do the King and Queen of DormaSai, you have my word on that." Ember interrupted him before he could finish.
Emperor Mero shook his head, clearly not convinced. "How do I know those are your words, Madam? It is no secret that men and woman who practice necromancy can master the ability to control the minds of others, both living and dead. We have worshiped the Fae since the time they walked among us, and I know they would never stay in a country like this willingly. I'm sorry, Madam, but I have no choice but to believe they are influencing your mind."
Ember could not help but chuckle. "I promise you, Emperor, my mind is very much my own. Both Nekrosa and Sephi have become good friends to me and my companions. Their help in the depths of Kazzador Mountain saved our lives, even if not that of my husband."
Emperor Mero continued to shake his head. "That is another concern of my country’s, Madam. You openly confess to be married to a DeathWizard. His death was a blessing for all of Talohna. Yet by your apparel, it is clear you still mourn for him. You should be open to the prospect of remarrying. Perhaps, if you were to consider my proposal—"
"Emperor Mero, we will not discuss your offer of marriage, again. I will mourn my husband as long as I see fit. I may never marry again, let alone when being pressured to do so to avoid the war you so clearly seem to want."
"That is a problem, then, your Eminence. Your actions and your words are sounding less like a true Fae and more like a Darkling the more you speak. Talohna is changing, Madam, you may be the last Fae, but you are not the last of the old races. The Ancients have returned as well, and their words will carry the final say when it comes to which countries your kind will ultimately support. Even the Fae once bowed to the Ancients."
Furious, Ember snapped, "I can guarantee you, Emperor, that no one, regardless of who they are, will have any say in whom I support. I will lend my help to whichever country I see fit and that will always be those on the side of peace. The more you continue to insinuate threats and try to blackmail me into marriage, Emperor Mero, the less likely it is my support will lie with Ellorya. Even a living, breathing Ancient will not change that!"
"I make no idle threats, Mistress of the Fae. The Ancients have returned."
Hearing enough, King Nekrosa finally spoke. "We are not here to argue which country the Fae will support. With Ember being the only Fae alive we know of, it's irrelevant anyway. As for the rumors about the return of the Ancients, they are nothing more than that, Emperor Mero. You know it. There have been no sightings, no diplomatic requests, and more importantly, no demands for their former territories to be returned. Corynth was built by the Ancients. It was their shining masterpiece. If no declaration for its return has been made, then they have not returned."
"My husband is right, Emperor,” Sephi added. “Lies, rumors, and conjecture, nothing more and irrelevant to the matter at hand."
"I beg to differ, your highness. The Ancients have returned. I have been one of the few blessed with a visitation from them, in fact."
Nekrosa frowned in disbelief. "You've gone mad, Mero. What you claim is impossible."
"Not so, Nekrosa," the Emperor said, obviously dropping the king's title on purpose as he flashed an enigmatic smile. He inhaled deeply, puffed out his chest and stared confidently across the table. "They have returned, necromancer. In fact, my closest adviser is a living, breathing Ancient. Would you like to meet her, king of the dead? She certainly has some words for you," he growled. He stood with his arm extended toward the same door he had entered earlier.
A smug expression rose on his chubby face. Ember, Nekrosa, and Sephi watched in awe as an elegant and graceful figure walked into the meeting room. Wrapped in a white hooded robe to cover her entire body, in with her presence rolled an unnerving silence. Strange black marks sparkled with silver flecks of energy were etched into the white leather of her entire robe. Strange purple eyes struck them speechless as they peeked from above the velvet mask hiding the remainder of her face. An aura of power radiated from the confident being. Emperor Mero grinned ear-to-ear as the woman sat beside him.
"Nekrosa and Sephi Kohl,” he started before turning to Ember, “Your Eminence, I present to you the Vikress Illara. The Matriarch of the Ancients."
Though Yrlissa had been quiet up until that point, Ember let out a sharp breath as she felt the assassin instinctively reach for her magic and fail. The implication of who they were facing became undeniably clear. Bending down, Yrlissa whispered into her ear, but she already knew what was coming.
"We need to leave, mai nahlla, now. Something is very wrong."
“Not now,” Ember snapped harshly.
“Ember! Your magic. Is it gone?” Yrlissa asked, pushing again. Ember frowned and reaching for her magic if for no other reason than to prove Yrlissa wrong. She gasped as she realized her magic was gone.
“It's gone. What's going on?” she whispered over her shoulder.
Yrlissa winced. “It's Mero's adviser. She is a real Ancient, Ember. It's a set-up. This entire Conclave is a facade to get the Ri'Tek into DormaSai so they can locate the Human Animus Seal. We need to go. Now!”
“Is there a problem, Madam Eminence?” Mero asked over their heated discussion.
“No, Emperor Mero,” Ember said, smiling sweetly. “My adviser was just filling me on the identity of your new adviser. You honestly didn't think you could fool us. Did you?”
“What is it, Ember?” Nekrosa asked.
Emperor Mero grinned. “Fool you? No, not at all. Get away with it? Why yes, young Fae. In fact, we already have. We are here in DormaSai, and the Dead King has something the Ancients want very badly.”
“Something that doesn't belong to them,” Yrlissa barked in response.
“The Animus Seal, husband,” Sephi murmured.
King Nekrosa laughed. “You won't get it. I suggest you make your apologies, Emperor Mero, and then leave my castle before I have you removed like the sniveling shit—” The Vikress stood as Yrlissa dragged Ember from her chair, interrupting the DormaSain king.
“We can't win this fight, Nekrosa,” the assassin snapped.
“Oh, yes, we can. I have never lost a fight in my own home, even before it was my home. This castle feeds my power and mine alone,” he stated. Pushing his chair back, Nekrosa stood, and Ember felt him tap the Void's power. She winced as the energy entered the mortal world and filled his being with the kind of dark power that made her stomach hurt. Unlike everyone’s failing magic, Nekrosa's magic manifested into dark wisps and black phantoms that circled his body.
He grinned at the Vikress, but Ember saw no fear in the woman's violet eyes. "This is my castle and my country,” Nekrosa barked. “My word is the only law here. You can nullify the power of the Fae and the Elvehn, but you cannot stop mine."
The Vikress returned his smile, her mask tugging gently to the side. "Foolish dosa child. Necromancers have always believed they were the spawn of Gods when, in reality, the offspring of primordial ooze is closer to the truth, King Nekrosa," she hissed, spitting the insult his way. "There is no power on Talohna the Ancients cannot stop."
"You've been gone for too long, Vikress. Times have changed. My power doesn't come from Talohna like other wizards. I am not bonded to the Void, but born of it, ripped from my mother's womb by the cold, rotting ha
nds of the DeathGod himself. My power is the Void. The infinite darkness between life and death, and a place where you have no power."
The dark ghosts and trailing comets of black power around him intensified, multiplying until a phantom form was seen through the swirling haze. The Vikress stared, and Ember caught sight of the shock and disbelief in her ancient eyes. Still she refused to back down.
"Very well, King of the Dead,” she barked. “You can join the bones of your grotesque statues, and my brother can reap your soul in the same way he gave birth to it. Emperor Mero, kill them all, except for the young Fae. Bring her to me alive," she ordered calmly.
With a nod, the emperor's troops moved to attack, and runners fled the meeting hall to pass the word to units all over the city of Drae'Kahn. Nekrosa's personal guard leapt to meet the threat, and Ember watched on in horror as a noisy rattle erupted from under Vikress Illara's hood. The realization of the century slammed into her, taking her breath away.
The war they had been trying so hard to avoid for so many years had finally begun.
Emperor Mero grinned and ducked into the hall, but not before Ember pulled his thoughts from his head as he went. The emperor had been ordering his very best soldiers to hide through DormaSai in the weeks prior to their peace meeting. Dozens of units were positioned strategically throughout DormaSai's Capitol city of Drae'Kahn waiting for the command to attack, and it had been issued.
With only the magic to sense thoughts and feelings and no active magic to defend against Nekrosa's Void energy, weakness nearly overcame her while she fought to stay conscious. Ember gagged as the necromancer sneered and raised his spear into the air, calling forth every ounce of raw energy he could handle. The endless power of the Void poured into his soul and thundered through his veins. She collapsed on the floor, unable to help herself up.
"My grotesque statues are insulted, Vikress," Nekrosa growled from inside the shifting murk of shadows. With her magic, Ember could feel the way he ground his teeth, to suppress the agony of controlling such an abundant amount of Void-magic. Her body shook with tremors, mirroring his own struggles. Still, he carried on, "They would like to discuss it with you... Bones of the Brethren, hear me... return to life and protect what is yours." He gasped, his labored lungs barely able to draw in a breath. As the last word ripped free from his lips, Nekrosa drove his arms down and slammed his spear into the floor. A wave of magic exploded outward, billowing through the room with a sonic blast. The black mist and shadows came together and created six long tentacles. They multiplied a dozen times over as they raced toward the decrepit bone statues of the Lower Brethren lining the room. Hundreds more rocketed into the hallways and disappeared into the castle.
The aged and rotting bones of all six demon statues stirred with life for the first time in countless millennia as Nekrosa crumpled to the mosaic tile; The activation spell for the demon skeletons completed.
Ember winced as the bone monuments came to life with a violent pop and the grind of dust-dry bone. The long forgotten KiPara remains—Perdition's most sadistic demon clan and rulers of the 9th Hell—rose with a roar of thunderous rage.
Not waiting to see the results of the battle, Yrlissa dragged Ember to her feet while Sephi grabbed Nekrosa's unconscious body. Together, they fled through the door and into the main castle as the sounds of ancient magic followed them in a monstrous battle.
Exploding granite and the ear-splitting screams of the dying assaulted Ember’s ears as she gasped for breath. “Mero has troops all over the city! I saw it! In his mind!”
“So do we, dear, and Max is below us somewhere with the DeathDogs,” Sephi told them, flashing a confident smile. “Only a fool trusts an Elloryan Emperor. You better?”
Ember nodded. “Close.”
“Help me with Nekrosa?” she asked. “Yrlissa can scout back and watch our asses. It should be clear ahead.”
Yrlissa let Sephi and Ember take Nekrosa while she brought up the rear, guarding their backs diligently. Her newly acquired Broken Blade daggers were ready in each hand, but Ember sensed she was still unable to use her magic. A tear ran down her cheek as she thought about how much they needed Kael—now more than ever. She heard Yrlissa say a quick prayer to Acathryl that Max would find his way to them from the barracks. He had spent every day for eight months building and training DormaSai's elite military unit, the DeathDogs, who they desperately needed.
TRAINING GROUNDS
BLACKVOID CASTLE
Max sat alone in the officer’s quarters located off the eastern side of the training grounds in the royal castle in Drae'Kahn. He wanted no part of the peace Conclave. He was not born yesterday. Not for a single second did he believe Emperor Mero was sincere about peace between their countries. An influx of foreign mercenaries into the city over the preceding weeks had led him to believe Ellorya was up to something sinister. It was far too close to be a coincidence. He dearly hoped Nekrosa’s men were up for anything that might happen. The number of mercenaries had even prompted him to advise the King to covertly post his best DeathDog squads throughout the city. They remained hidden in warehouses and rundown homes until—or if–Ellorya made a move against DormaSai while Max stayed with the newest DeathDog recruits.
As the shouts and grunts of the trainees’ vigorous workouts buzzed in the background, Max's mind was far away. His was lost in his memories of finding the body of Kael over a year ago. The events of that day had tortured Max nearly every waking moment for an entire year. Though Kael's death was not his fault, he still felt responsible for letting Kael down in the moment he had been needed most.
A lone tear crept its way down Max's cheek to his jawline as he forced himself to remember their arrival in DormaSai as a distraction. Their arrival put them under the protection of its king and queen. The jump itself had been devastating. Like the others, Max felt like he had been hit by a truck several times. Yrlissa made sure they passed by the Kasym’s volatile magic instead of going through it, but Ember had still lost most of her control on the spell. They arrived unconscious in the outer bailey of BlackVoid Castle. It had taken two full days to recover, but once he had, Nekrosa had sought him out.
He sighed, perfectly recalling the conversation that had followed.
"Max?" Nekrosa asked, knocking on the big man's chamber door.
"Your Highness," Max replied, slowly opening the black mirewood door. He started to bow, but Nekrosa stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Max, please, we've been through enough. You don't have to bow and call me Nekrosa. I never held to titles well. I was born a commoner like everyone else."
"Fair enough, Nekrosa. What can I do for you?"
"I would like to talk to you, but there's also something I need to show you. Can we talk while we walk?" the King asked.
"Lead the way," Max replied as he stepped into the hall and closed his chamber door behind him.
Max walked side-by-side at an easy pace with DormaSai's popular king. The King's limp from an old battle wound slowed their progress considerably. They went in comfortable silence as they passed the additional guest chambers and approached the main staircase.
"I hear you've been down working out with the new recruits since you woke. How do they look?"
Always the pragmatist, Max spoke his mind. "Green, Nekrosa, but they’re miles ahead of most kids their age. How does a sixteen-year-old have the technical skills of a man three times older, yet have no practical experience, no battle readiness?"
"That's a bit of a story, I assure you." As they stepped from the bottom of the stairs, Max stopped and looked at Nekrosa.
"I have nothing but time, I assure you."
"Fair point. This world can be a brutal place. We took this country by force from a man who made many orphans. A man who destroyed nearly everything this country is, and in the process, made the rest of the world suspicious of us. We try to do everything we can to keep people safe, but sometimes children are still left orphaned."
"I get it,
Nekrosa. People die. Accidents happen. Every world is like that, Earth was no different." The King nodded while they resumed walking. Max noticed they were heading toward the barracks and the military training grounds.
"Since I have become king, orphaned children anywhere in DormaSai become wards of the crown. If they are younger than six, they are taken care of by young maidens here in the castle—most are teenage girls from noble families or other women interested in it as an occupation. They are paid very well to give the children a happy childhood—noble or not.”
“Are you serious?” Max asked.
“Very. If the children are over six years of age, they are cared for the same, but they take classes for education and train for the military. Once they reach age twelve their options for adulthood are explained to them, and they make their education choices accordingly, though it is never set in stone. At eighteen years of age, they are offered a choice of what they will do with the remainder of their lives. Those who wish to do so can continue their training and devote their lives to the DormaSain army—whichever branch they choose. If they decide they would like to do something different—say be a farmer or a blacksmith—they are placed in a way that will give them everything they need for an independent, successful life."
"For such a hated man outside your own country, you rule with more compassion and fairness than most," Max stated.
Nekrosa frowned. "People outside of DormaSai don't live here. We survived under the rule of two necromancers whose only concern was power gained through the death of others. We fought to free ourselves from the horrors that necromancers—the kind of horrors that my kind can inflict. I won't be the one to lead us back there."