Millions of years ago, there were a group of elves who practiced a powerful magic called Necromancy. Those who practiced this brand of magic could accomplish many things that a normal spellcaster could only dream of- such as telling small lies in the ancient language, scrying those who they have only heard of, and, most famously, the ability to draw from the life around them to create new life. This was mostly used to create small changes in nature and to heal the sick. However, this power became the source of many atrocities, and so it was that Necromancy was outlawed. Still, many elves learned Necromancy in secret, forming a group called the Dradwin Alo-Dyrna- the Higher Order. The Higher Order was eventually discovered and disbanded, though a few of it's remnants scattered throughout Alagaesia. Now, Alagaesia is consumed with the shadow of war. Now, without a Rider on their side, and with the Galbatorix's empire growing stronger in it's dictatorship. the remnants of the Higher Order have gathered for one final ceremony of Necromancy…..
A milky white fog curled around the warm night air. The full moon just barely peaked out above the frothy, slowly moving clouds. Cerkisha smiled under her black hood. Tonight was the night. The Riders would be reborn. Tonight at last the power of the Dradwin Alo-Dyrna would be appreciated. Next to Cerkisha stood Medona, who unnaturally white hair contrasted with Cerkisha's flowing black hair. Next to Medona stood Senstodan, who seemed to have a cruel scowl planted eternally on his face. The threesome waited silently for the final member of the Higher Order, Romore. He arrived in five minutes time. Cerkisha stepped forward and struck Romore in the face. " You are late. Time does not favor laggards such as yourself." Romore stood up. He had deserved such punishment. Necromancy had the most power when the full moon was at its most wax- at the 5th hour of early morning. " Sit", said Cerkisha, and the foursome sat down on the grassy ground. They meditated, absorbing all life around them as a sponge absorbs water. They then all closed their eyes and stretched out their hands, as if pressing them against some invisible wall. And then, they chanted together the incantation of life;
From the world around we draw the life
Like marrow from a bone
And we create a living being
Solid as a stone
We draw plants from the trees
Trees from the sea and
Hearts from the sky
and so the Ritual of Rebirth began. Jade fountains of energy burst forth from the four's fingers, all of the threads connecting in a whirling circle in the middle. Senstodan smiled. Soon a new dragon would be born, its heart taken from the plants, its marrow from the living water. And a new Rider would be chosen. And Necromancy would no longer be a cursed word, but one spoken with honor. Senstodan's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a flock of crows bursting forth. Senstodan cursed. The connection was broken- now the lives of the Necromancers would be drawn into the spell. Senstodan shook wildly. His mouth involuntarily opened and a blue stream of something that looked rather like smoke came pouring out. It was then that Senstodan collapsed to the ground, dead. And so this happened with the others as they paid a horrid price for their dark magic.