The gold pieces slowly slide back to him and he rhythmically caught it in his palm. He placed it back and repeated the pattern as he had been doing for an indefinite amount of time. It was his way of passing the time, and also checking the consistently changing movement of the ship. The ship's irregularity beating into his brain, slowing driving him mad.
"I hope you realize what you're doing."
Rathnial continued his pattern as if she wasn't even there.
"It's not as if this hasn't been attempted in the past," She said. "I'm not sure what you mean to accomplish by this but your own death." She waited for a moment and then said cynically, "Of course your kind is obsessed with death."
Rathnial slammed his palm over the gold piece, breaking the rhythm. He glared at the women and said, "Do not question our motives or denounce my faith, Guard, and I will not be spoken to as if I am a fool!" He had been aware of the Amazonian guard staring at him for quite some time now, but he chose to ignore her until now. Rathnial, with his hand maintaining its position on the gold piece, bent his head forward impatiently and considered the pesky companion.
She was in her late twenties. Her hair was brown in a short pony tail in the back, and her face still youthful and attractive despite the bloody missions' she no doubt undertook. Her figure was fitted with the finest armor, not surprising for a royal guard, and obviously custom-made due the perfect fit on her frame. A bow of the rarest wood was still gripped in her hand, ready at a moments notice.
Rathnial had thin black hair running slightly past his shoulders, and he it left hangs in whichever way. He wasn't trying to impress anyone at the moment, and he could fix it when the time came. He was in his early thirties, and that youthful edge was still in him. His features were sharp with piercing blue eyes.
He rubbed his amulet of Trag'Oul around his neck, which gave him a degree justification and reassurance of himself. "I am not exactly doing this out of my own free will. The least you could do is shown appreciation."
The Amazon bit her bottom lip and squinted her fiery green eyes at the Necromancer, as though she was seeing the very thoughts of his mind. "If I could have prevented the raping of my sisters, those murders of my neighbors, and the destruction of my tribal land, I would have given my life," she said. "For me to be thankful, to have some sort gratification for someone's own private attempt where we have failed, whose only desired outcome is that he receive his gold pieces, is something I cannot do."
Rathnial picked up the gold piece, dully looked it over, and flicked it toward her. "Riches mean nothing to me, Amazon. Clearly we are two worlds apart. The priests of Rathma will tell you gold brings greed and greed brings corruption. My life does not function around this as your people do."
The Necromancer loosened his black cloak. The cabin's size combined with the lack of windows and fresh air could make any man feel claustrophobic. "There is a natural balance between Order and Chaos, and chaos seems to be the dominated factor here. I seek to correct that balance. This is what draws me here."
"And the dead bodies of my people must be an obvious attraction," The Amazon said. Clearly there was an undying distrust toward the Necromancer, and one that would be very difficult to extinguish.
There was a knock on the cabin door. "Come in," the Guard said attentively, and an Amazonian Guard appeared. "We will dock in approximately forty-five minutes. The coast is in view." Both Rathnial and the Amazon went to the deck to see the view. The shore of Lycander was in plain sight, and with that the Necromancer went inside his cabin to prepare himself to meet whatever Lycander may bring.
When they reached shore, Rathnial took in a breath of fresh forest air, refreshing his entire essence, and took a look around him. Along the shoreline, sand lay as far as the eye could see. Defensive lighthouses were strategically placed between the reinforced Lycander lumber, which could not be burned or damaged by anything Rathnial knew of. The lighthouses were of a special breed as well, providing not only navigation for oncoming ships, but could burn a warship's sail miles away.
The military was especially active today. Personnel could be seen frantically making flag signals to one another. The females of the Amazon society serve as the warriors, were as the males work in jobs in the community and government.
Rathnial began to follow his private Royal Guard, but stopped when a wave an evil energy surged through him. Stunned for a brief moment, Rathnial gathered himself. The cult of Rathma teaches its students to be sensitive to the forces around them, which allows them to better understand the true nature of all things. "Guard, a rogue Barbarian tribe is conducting the raids, correct?"
The Amazon nodded slowly with sadness in her eyes. "As they have been for many months."
He frowned in thought. For Barbarians to raid and pillage another land was usual, the tribes of the North do not have a long history of peace with Westmarch. However, the nature of these raids, unlike the others, has always seemed odd to him, and there doesn't seem to be an apparent goal from these Barbarians.
Through the primary gate, they entered the capital of Lycander, Athulua, and Rathnial was awestruck. A vast interlocking of bridges from tree to tree could be seen as far as the eye could see, and with great designs of goddesses interwoven within the small huts, governmental buildings and the skyscrapers of wood. Beautiful dyes and paints decorated the buildings wherever he looked. The bridges were so powerful and vast, and enormous packing animals were evident in many areas. It was no wonder. These people have such great pride for their work. Bustling with people, the Amazonians went about their daily life. Where there would otherwise be the commotion of a busy marketplace, there was a relative unease in the air.
"This is fantastic! I've only read about the architectural wonders of your cities in the books," Rathnial said.
"My city has stood for a millennium without an arrow being fired within the cities walls," She said proudly. "However," her expression became grim, "in no way do I feel my city is immune. I have never feared for my city as much as I do now in my life, and I feel safe to say that I speak for all my people. Whatever tribe has been ransacking neighboring towns has done so with such inhumane…" The Royal Guard clasped her mouth for she almost lost herself mid-sentence.
Rathnial put his right hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "They killed children, Rathnial, children! Those people would have given them anything in order for their lives to be spared," the Amazon managed to continue.
Clearly touched, Rathnial said, "Whomever or whatever is conducting these horrible acts will be stopped and punished, I promise you. I came here to end this, and I will not leave until I have succeeded."
She nodded with renewed determination, "Her Highness is waiting."
An octagonal shaped governmental facility centered itself within the city. There perched an elaborate wooden carving atop the entrance of the prime deity, Athulua. Two Royal Guards stood outside of the grand entrance.
The two guards crossed their javelins with another as more of a gesture than actual protective measures. "Halt. What's your identification, Guard, and your companion's?"
"Victoria Synad, and by Her Highness's request, Rathnial Dizharen. Our business is with the Queen."
To confirm the information, the first Guard made flag signals to various scout outposts positioned near the building. With that, the gigantic wooden doors were opened from within.
Inside wasn't disappointing in the least. The building could be easily defended with eight lookout holes in the circumference of each story. The floors consisted of colored marble interwoven to create the impression of a large flower. Royal Guards stood between the pillars on the outside of the main walkway.
"This way," she said, and the Guard led him through a series some hallways until they reached the throne room. Four Royal Guards were stationed in the room, two in the entrance and two near the Queen's seat. In the center of the room, there was a middle-aged female whom the Necromancer realized must be the Queen of Lycander herself, Amersa the Versatile. She had black hair tied up in the back, partially coming up over her head. This proud woman has surely seen better days, her feathery midnight black dress was in prime condition, but the tired, baggy eyes were something even the best royal makeup artists couldn't cover. Surely, this woman had aged considerably over the past months.
When the javelins crossed, Amersa waved Rathnial and Victoria forwards, and they were permitted passage inside the grand hall. When the duo reached her, Victoria performed a slight bow, and Rathnial did the same.
"Ah…at last you've reached us Necromancer. Make sure my gratitude reaches the cult of Rathma," Amersa said.
"I shall do that, your Highness."
The Queen glanced at Victoria. "You are dismissed, Guard, your services are no longer needed." Victoria almost bowed in respect and she would be on her way to report to the Royal Chief of Guards, however Rathnial saw it better on the retrospect.
"Your Highness, if you will allow it, I would much appreciate it if you were to allow Victoria to continue her service with me. I will need a guide for my stay here."
Rathnial caught Victoria's eyes sparkling with joy and saw a hint of a smile on her face. No doubt he saved her from some sort of mind-numbing watch duty. It is much more logical to have someone already accustom to him being a Necromancer rather than having to go through the process of gaining that Guard's trust again.
The Queen nodded understandingly and said, "So be it, Guard, you are to accompany Rathnial until you are otherwise dismissed."
"Yes, your Highness," Victoria said with appreciation evident in her voice.
"What is the nature of these Barbarians, your Highness? Why are they killing your people?"
"We know of a Barbarian tribe that, when they settled on our island, the ransacking of our villages began. They are very good at leaving no evidence behind."
"So you haven't received a witness yet…no survivors?"
"That is correct, Necromancer."
Rathnial nodded slowly in thought.
"And the promise we made, your Highness" Rathnial said.
The Queen nodded slowly. "Yes, of course…this way."
Amersa stood and gestured for them to follow her. She led them through a door directly behind her royal seat and into a small room. The room was lit with two torches on opposite sides of each other. Next to the farthest wall there lay a tube of water.
Amersa had listened to him when he said to preserve the body in a mixture of water, mercury, and other chemicals. "Excellent."
Rathnial examined the body. It had been mutilated beyond recognition. The women's corpse had most of her skin ripped off and several body parts were missing. "Get the feather bed." With that, Amersa directed Victoria to get the bed from the side of the wall and place it next to the tube. "Lift her back up slowly while I lift her legs, Victoria." Reaching in, they both lifted the corpse and placed on the feather bed.
Rathnial reached for his dagger. The handle was crafted with the hardest wood of Kurast, and the blade was made of the purest ivory. It was magical imbued with skill enhancements, which aided him in his incantations. You would never see a Necromancer without his dagger or kris, unless it was forcibly taken from them. It was the force in virtually everything concerning Necromancy.
The Necromancer knelt at the foot of the corpse and turned to the two Amazonians and said, "You are about to see what I do best. You may not understand it fully. Therefore, I ask you not to make any noise in risk of devastating the questioning. I alone must speak. If you feel you cannot handle that please leave at once, agreed?"
Amersa folded her arms over her chest, "I wish to see what you are about to do to my fallen warrior, and I will speak where I see fit."
"Your Highness, I understand you care for your people, however is there really any more harm I can bestow upon her?" he pointed towards the corpse with his dagger, "Please, your Highness."
"Understood…do what you must," and she gestured him to proceed.
Rathnial cut a new hole on the corpse's neck and began to soak the tip of the blade with the fresh blood. Turning the blade several time to cover the entirety of the tip, Rathnial held his dagger hilt up and muttered the first part of the spell. The blood began to flare brightly, and Rathnial muttered a few more words, more intense this time.
The splotches began to move this time as if alive. Quick as lighting, Rathnial Dizharen jammed the blade into the feather bed, and leaped back just as fast. The dagger became engulfed with blood red and seemed as if it was going to explode. Eyes following his index finger, symbols began to appear in front of him where his finger in turn moved. Then, a bright red light overcame the room, and after the light subsided a full-sized figure materialized where the ivory dagger had stood.
"Gods above! What have you created?"
Amersa cried"Do not speak or you yourself may die!" Rathnial turned to Victoria. She was calm. It was as if she had seen this before. "Victoria, comfort her. This will not last forever."
The phantasm stared back at him with no expression. It bared the resemblance of the deceased corpse, garments included.
"Name yourself!" he demanded.
The phantasm mouthed its name but no sound came out. However, words appeared in his head.
Gilia Resena
Rathnial could only ask simple questions and he had to start somewhere.
"Who killed you?"
No answer. Strange.
"How were you killed?"
Nothing.
Rathnial thought for a moment.
"What killed you?
The Dead