The past day had been eventful. They had arrived at Blackthorn's walls during the night and Lance and Bruno had reached the courtyard to retake the castle from Clair. Lyra had snuck into the tavern with Gary to wait out the takeover. Now she waited for Lance or Bruno to retrieve her.
"You know you can't leave," Gary said.
Lyra sighed, resting her arms on the table. "We haven't heard anything."
"Relax, Lyra. You think anyone is going to be able to stop Lance? He's probably just sorting things out in the castle. He'll send for you, or he'll come down himself." He pushed her a silver chalice. It reeked of strong wine. "Have a sip at least. It will help you relax."
The smell was off-putting, yet she picked it up and brought the rim to her lips. Gathering her courage, she opened her mouth and tilted her head back, allowing the cool liquid to run down her throat. She immediately lurched forward and spat some of it out onto the table. A bitter taste. Scrunching up her face in disgust, she turned to Gary. "Never again."
He chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."
She was about to reply when there was a knock on the door. "I thought the tavern was closed?"
Gary nodded. "I did put a sign on it saying we are closed." He walked over to the door.
"It's Ethan."
Gary looked at Lyra. "Let him in?"
"Yes. Let him in."
Ethan was still alive. More good news.
"All right." Gary opened the door.
Ethan burst through the door as Gary retreated to the counter. "Gary-Lyra? What are you doing here?" he said, his voice low.
"I'm not in danger anymore."
He didn't seem convinced and looked over his shoulder, looking both left and right as if expecting soldiers to come charging towards them. When he decided it was safe, he stepped through the door, slamming it shut once he was inside. "Lance has taken back the city."
"I was worried sick about you. I thought Clair had taken you…"
"I'm fine, Ethan. I made it out."
A look of disbelief crossed his face. "How did you even?"
"Lance found me. He got me out." It was tempting to tell Ethan about the secret passageway, but that was up to Lance to share. Even though she considered Ethan a friend, she didn't trust him to keep a secret. Too many years had passed to have that foundation of trust still in place. Much to her surprise, Ethan pulled her into a hug and held her for a few moments before pulling away. "Ethan?"
"Sorry. I just thought I had lost you. Again."
"I'm not going anywhere."
A smile spread across his face. "That I'm glad to hear."
"How are you coping?"
He shrugged. "The past few days have been weird. Clair doesn't leave the castle unless she must, and no one knows how the king is. The knights aren't allowed to enter, and the soldiers have no idea what is going on. The local folk are unsettled – we live in fear that maybe the guards will take us to the castle." He then shook his head. "How are you? You're the accused."
"Alive and well," she replied. A few weeks ago, their positions had been reversed. Ethan was the one giving her guidance. He was in the position of knowledge. Now she was the one giving him information. "But the city isn't safe. You need to leave the kingdom, Ethan. Do you have any place you can go?"
He frowned. "What? Leave? Blackthorn is my home."
"There's a war coming, Ethan. The necromancers. They do exist, and they will come for Blackthorn."
He lifted a brow. "The necromancers? But aren't they all… dead?"
She shook her head. "The mages were defeated during The Time of Troubles, but many still survived. Those that did formed a cult that dedicated themselves to understanding the teachings Ghetsis had been trying to spread. The art of necromancy. Now they've found a way to bring him back and they intend to exact their revenge on the kingdom that drove them away."
"But what's the point in even running? They'll take Blackthorn and other surrounding kingdoms until the world is shrouded in darkness."
Ethan didn't even ask how she knew so much. Perhaps he thought her close ties with the royal family had informed her. "They're not going to win. We're going to defeat him and his army of the dead. We have the power." Ethan raised both eyebrows. Could she tell him she was also a faerie? Or would terrify him? She decided not to bring it up. There was only so much information a person could absorb at once. "We managed to capture one of their own. Lance has a plan."
"Wait. You have a necromancer imprisoned?"
"Yes, we do. He's the one who murdered Prince Benga. He has information we can use."
He gave her a bewildered look. "And you can trust him? What if he lies?"
"He won't."
He folded his arms across his chest. "You believe that?"
"I don't know for certain, but what else do we have? He's the closest connection we have to the threat. He willingly allowed himself to be arrested." Unless he knew he was going to be saved by his own people. But why demand an audience with Lance and confess to the truth of murdering Prince Benga? What other motive could he have?
"You place a lot of faith in someone who murdered a noble prince. He almost cost you your life." He paused, drawing in a deep breath, he exhaled. Raking a hand through his hair, he added, "Why are you even here? We could leave together. Escape the fighting. Maybe we can travel to another region away from this place. I'll have the coin."
She smiled at the thought. It was a nice dream. Leave the chaos and fighting behind and start anew in a foreign land with her childhood friend. But it wasn't possible. Not anymore. "I have to stay and fight. I'm here to serve the royal family. Edward might be in his last stages of life, but his grandchildren remain. I won't abandon them."
"You feel obliged to stay because Lance saved you."
"I need to be here."
He looked to the side, bringing a hand to his chin. A forced smile appeared on his face and he shifted his gaze to his feet before looking at her again, though his eyes never reached hers. "I should've seen it earlier. He was asking about you. Lance. He cares for you…. and you do for him. That's why you want to stay. I suppose you spent more time around Lance than you did serving Clair."
Was that a hint of jealousy in his tone? Is that why he didn't meet her gaze directly? "He saved my life. I owe it to him to stay. Nothing else needs to be said. But there's no reason for you to remain here. Death is likely if you do."
"We finally reunite again after so many years and now you want us to separate?"
"Would you prefer to be dead or be forever scarred by destruction if you remain?" she countered.
He sighed his shoulders slumped. "Where else am I supposed to go?"
"The Sevii Islands. There's a dock to the north west. There's a boat that will take you across the river."
"You make it sound so simple… To leave my life behind. Again." He shook his head. "But I won't do it. I'm staying. I told you before this is my hometown now and I'll be damned if I run away like a coward. I won't stand by and lose my home again. I'm staying."
Lyra could see she wasn't going to change his mind. She could ask Lance to force the man to leave, but Ethan would never forgive her. "All right. Just be careful." Silence fell. Lyra hoped Ethan would speak, but he remained quiet. "Don't try to be a hero. All you need to do is survive." She turned around and opened the door then exited, not sparing Ethan another glance.
What a fool I am, Eusine thought, his heart hammering in his chest, his eyes wide and palms sweaty. He was currently hiding behind a boulder in the cave, hoping Ghetsis hadn't caught scent of him. Could the newly arisen dead smell him? Or had their appetites been fulfilled with the N's flesh? Sneaking into the cave to witness the ritual had been a terrible idea.
Eusine wanted to run, but he feared Ghetsis would kill him if he tried. All he could do was sit and stare in horror at the skeletal remains of N. The man who had taught them their magic. The man who had promised they would be strong again under the leadership of Ghetsis. The man who had convinced them their cause was just. It had all been for nothing. Seven zombified beings emerged from the tomb, still dressed in the purple robes of the early days.
There was something unsettling about having a group of dead men walking around. One of them had its intestines hanging from his stomach. Another had a missing eye eaten out by maggots. It seemed the sages had returned in the form they had when they had fallen ill. The plague had taken lives in different ways. Some had unexplained bleeding. Others had died from gum disease.
The six sages still adorned their jewellery from long ago. Brooches. Amulets. One of them even had a mock crown. If not for the plague's mark, Eusine would have a difficult time telling the difference between them. Their physical characteristics were quite similar – they were all old men with pointed beards and long scraggly dark hair. Strange. He supposed Ghetsis's inner circle all had to look the same.
"The six sages," Eusine started, addressing the group of the undead. "I welcome you back into the world of the living." He paced back and forth, making a hand with his right fist. Eusine noted his hand was deformed – the skin was still yellow and leather-like. But he seemed able to use it well as if nothing had happened.
All six sages kneeled their heads bowed in honour of their master. "We are here to serve you once more, Ghetsis," said one of the sages, his voice hoarse. This was the man with the missing eye in the left socket.
"My brothers, I once again require your services – your power. We were a brotherhood once. We embraced a new path the others feared. They turned their backs on us and now they will pay. They will know what true fear is." He looked down at the ground before his feet. "Centuries ago, the dragons populated this region. Now they only live-in secluded parts away from humans. One of these dragons was slain by the first generation of mages. They called it Hydreigon. A three-headed beast. With your help, we can summon this beast."
Eusine remained kneeling, but he kept his chin up so he could see what was happening. He knew the stories of the dragons and how they once ruled the world, but they moved away to escape the activities of humans. He had never seen a dragon before – only in the books. But never had he heard of a three-headed beast.
"How can we serve?"
"Link hands. The blood you have taken from N will empower you."
Ghetsis stood over the remains of N. His six sages joined him and formed a line on either side, linking hands with their neighbour. "The dragon was buried here. I can feel it. This creature will be ours. We spill our blood to grant life." He pulled out a small, rusted dagger and sliced into his left wrist. His men followed. Ghetsis held his wrist out before him and shook his arm gently. Droplets of blood landed on the ground. Once again, the sages followed. "Now we link hands."
Ghetsis raised his arms. The sages did the same. The man started muttering some words. Nothing happened at first, but then there was a mild tremor. Spider cracks appeared in the walls and in the ceiling. Grains of dirt fell on top of Eusine's head. The blood started to move. Like a river, it poured through the cracks. This time, the tremor almost knocked Eusine off his feet.
It was like watching the door to the tomb open only this time it was the ground opening. "Arise Hydreigon! Return to the world of the living and obey me." Ghetsis and his men took several steps back as the ground started to crumble. More rubble fell. A haze filled the air stinging his eyes. Eusine waved a hand in front of him as if it would improve his vision.
A plume of fuchsia-coloured feathers emerged from the opening, forming a collar around the dragon's neck. Its head was blue, and its eyes fuchsia coloured too with a black ring around them. The other two heads became visible, and both were much smaller than the middle head, but otherwise identical in appearance. Six thin, black wings helped the dragon lift the creature out of the crypt. The wings protruded from two sharp black points on its back. Two fuchsia stripes lined its stomach, and its feet lacked claws and identifiable soles. There was also a single fuchsia stripe underlining the tail with a black tuft on the tip. The middle head opened its mouth and uttered a deep menacing roar, revealing a row of dagger like teeth, a forked tongue resting on the bottom row. Its canines were at least in inch long. The smaller heads mimicked the cry at a higher pitch.
For a creature with such small feet, it was surprisingly able to walk although its stride was unsteady. The wings seemed to propel and support its body weight whilst the feet seemed undeveloped. Although the creature looked clumsy, Eusine was certain it would be a formidable opponent. Its jaws could easily rip a leg off with little effort. The people of Blackthorn wouldn't survive this. How could anyone hope to take down a dragon so large? Its stomach was as wide as an elephant's and its height that of a giraffe's.
"We march on Blackthorn through the night," Ghetsis said. "Anyone who dares to stand in our path will join us and fight against their former allies. This land will be ours." He raised his staff in the air. The seven sages exited the remains of the remains of the tomb as Ghetsis approached the dragon. The hydreigon brought its head close and opened its mouth wide, as if it intended to devour his head. Surprisingly, the hydreigon did not attack. It seemed bound to Ghetsis's spell.
Eusine didn't move. He could only look on in fear. N had never mentioned anything about a dragon. But then again, the man hadn't been expecting his death. Morty had known not to trust Ghetsis. He had escaped. Eusine didn't have the choice. He didn't have the luxury of leaving. He had already sworn to serve, and he hated to know what would happen if he betrayed Ghetsis now. All he could do was hope Ghetsis failed.
"This is Blackthorn," Misty mused, looking towards the gate.
Morty nodded, pulling the hood over his head to best conceal his features. "Right."
The merchant stopped his cart right outside the gate. "I bring supplies from Cherrygrove!"
After a few moments, the gate opened. Morty expected to see Brock standing guard, but instead he was looking at a man he didn't recognize. This one had a large, thick moustache and a brutish look to his face, as if he were actively seeking to start a fight.
The large man spoke. "You are all merchants?"
"These are my friends," the merchant said. "They helped me pack my goods."
"I'll have to check you and your goods." The guard approached them.
"What's the latest news?" Morty said.
The new gatekeeper peered down into the cart and examined the goods – a few crates full of oranges and apples. There were also quite a few crates of cherries. "Clair has been dethroned and awaits punishment in the dungeon. Lance has claimed the throne in the wake of Edward's passing." He continued to check the goods. "We will take these crates to the tavern where they will be checked by the guards."
Morty climbed off and aided Misty. "My friend here is unwell. Is there not a place we can go?"
"The church." The man turned to the right and pointed. "See the small hill?"
Morty looked. There was a small grey chapel sitting atop a gentle sloping hill. Not a building he had noticed before during his stay in Blackthorn, but he hadn't explored the city. He had spent more time outside its walls. "I'll take my friend there."
The man squinted. "Wait. Do I know you?"
Morty shook his head. "No."
"You look familiar… I've seen you around before."
"Probably someone who just looks like me."
Misty coughed. "I need aid at once."
"…Go on, then. To the church. If Arceus is kind, you'll survive the trip." The guard shooed them away, his attention now focused on the cart of goods.
Withholding a sigh of relief, Morty guided Misty towards the church. "You seemed convincing."
"You're hiding."
"What makes you think that?"
She pointed to the hood. "You're wearing that. That means you don't want to be seen."
"You don't need to visit the church. You should head to the tavern. You know your way there?"
Misty frowned. "So eager to get rid of me?"
"You're right. I'm hiding. Things happened here…"
"You need to absolve your sins then and talk to a priest."
He held back the urge to roll his eyes. "…That's right. I'll see you later."
A possible lie. That man seemed to know him. Perhaps someone had finally connected him to Prince Benga's death. Misty snorted and walked away. He hoped she remembered the way, but he certainly wasn't going to take her on a guided tour in a busy city that was probably on the look out for him. Keeping the hood pulled over his head, he followed a winding path through a quieter part of the city towards the church. The building itself was made of stone and brick, a statue of a white stag sitting atop the roof at the highest point. The building itself was simple – the windows did not have glass, but instead had bars. It was certainly strange for a large kingdom to have such a basic place of worship. It looked more like a dungeon than a sacred site. He wondered if the building had been used for a prison before Edward's time.
He approached the large rectangular door. Noticing it was slightly open, he pushed it then stepped inside, finding himself standing on bland red carpet with golden edgings. There were three rows of wooden benches on either side of the carpet. At the opposite end there was a white altar with antlers on a podium. Behind the altar was a wooden bench with a golden goblet and a pair of white candles on either side. Directly behind the goblet on the wall just beneath the ceiling was a head of a white stag. He supposed it meant that Arceus was watching over them all the time.
Sabrina was kneeling before the wooden bench gazing up at the stag head, as if she were seeking advice from the silent god.
"Has Arceus ever answered your prayers before?" Morty replied with a frown.
Startled, Sabrina sprung to her feet and turned around, her eyes wide. "Morty."
He raised his hands. "For many years I didn't believe in Arceus. He wasn't my god to worship. I always thought my people were better than the followers of Arceus." He forced a dry laugh. How things had changed.
"Arceus exists," Sabrina said her voice low. "He's all around us, always watching."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Warmth. Peace. Love. Fleeing moments of happiness, but they exist."
He tilted his head to the side. "But you are not happy. How could you be?"
"Arceus tests us. He gives us challenges to overcome to become stronger." She looked at him without fear in her eyes and grabbed his arm firmly with both hands. "I know why you have come. I saw it in a vision. You are drawn to his Light, his Grace. You once lived in the dark. Blind. But now you have seen Him."
He pulled his arm free. "Why would he care?"
"Because Arceus believes in second chances. Everyone deserves redemption. We do not get a choose how we are born. We get the chance to live another life."
Morty frowned. "And this is your second life? A servant where you don't even get to use your magic?"
"This is a better life than the one I was living. In my village, I had little. My family were in poverty. The people feared our power. Here, I have a home. A roof over my head, and food and water to fill my stomach," she said with a frown. "Arceus brought me here. To save you."
Morty raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. "To save me?"
"Oracles see into the future. We see what might become a reality. We use that knowledge to prevent that future from happening." Again, she grabbed his arms, peering up into his eyes. "I knew who you were the moment you entered this city. Arceus intended us to cross paths. He wants to use me to show you the Light. To show you what you can be."
"And yet you never said a word."
"Telling you wouldn't mean anything. You wouldn't believe it unless you had seen it. Experienced it."
Had she known all along Ghetsis would rise from the dead? Had she seen Naoko betray him? Did she know how the war would end? "How did you see it end?"
"I have not seen that far ahead."
Typical. Oracles never had the answers until it was too late. Unless the woman was lying to keep the result hidden as if she thought he'd leave. "Why are you in the church?"
"Why are you here?"
"I…" Why had he come to the church? It was a good question. "Faith saw me come here."
"You feel lost and alone," Sabrina said softly.
He forced a laugh. "I had faith. It landed me at the bottom of a pit."
"You've come to seek penance. That is why people come to church. The servants can visit the church once per week to pray before Arceus. Edward Blackthorn insists it is good for us." She looked to the statue and smiled. "My mind is clear here. Being close to Arceus strengthens me."
Morty narrowed his eyes. "Penance? Why should I seek forgiveness from a god I don't believe in?" He looked to the statue and frowned. All his years believing in Ho-Oh had gotten him nowhere.
She turned around and grabbed both his hands. Her grip tightened, her fingers intertwining with his own. "War is coming. I can see them clearly. The dead walk. They will come to this castle. But the dead fear the divine. You didn't find the sword by mistake. Arceus wanted you to find it. He has opened a path of salvation for you."
"Why?"
She smiled. "Because everyone deserves a second chance to make things right." She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead, then released her grip, walking over to the altar. There was a small goblet. Probably taken from the kitchen barracks. "They fear the Light of Arceus. The Scale of Arceus. That is the name of the sword you found."
He frowned. "I gave the sword to Clair."
"You helped start this war, but you can fix your mistakes." She picked the goblet up.
"And how am I supposed to do that? They're not going to listen to me."
She turned to face him, bringing the goblet to her lips. "Arceus forgives."
Holding back a growl of frustration, he said, "That doesn't help me with anything."
She craned her head back and swallowed the entire contents of the goblet. "Have faith."
He looked up at the head of Arceus. Did the white stag truly exist? Was he listening to them now exchanging words? His thoughts shifted to the event at the shrine. Somehow, he had found the sword of Henry. A sword made with the powers of the faerie. "My choices end in death, Sabrina. Even I was to turn my back on my own people and ally myself with the people of Blackthorn, they won't accept me afterwards. I killed a prince, remember? That won't be so easily forgotten."
She reached out and grabbed his arm. He flinched, startled by the unfamiliar gesture, but he didn't push her hand away. "You returned to Blackthorn because Arceus guided you here."
He held back a laugh. She didn't seem like the scared girl he had encountered earlier in his journey. Perhaps knowing her death was inevitable had given her a sense of peace after all. It struck him as odd that someone could comfort in death. "He could've blessed others. Why would your god choose to favour me over others?"
"Because Arceus wants you to save yourself. Learn from your mistakes. Repent."
He opened his mouth to reply but stopped short. Nothing came to mind. A slave girl was giving him advice. About freedom and choice of all things. Oh, the irony of the entire situation. "You really believe that people can just change?"
"You're not the same person you were when you first entered this city."
That much was true. Now he knew the truth. "Truth changes your perspectives."
"Then you know what you must do. You need to survive." She toppled forward, a sudden weakness overcoming her. He caught her before she could fall on the floor. "Arceus awaits me on the other side," she whispered.
The goblet. The woman had killed herself for whatever damned reason. He had once thought her weak and frail. Now he was realizing she was stronger than anyone he knew to look death in the face and show no fear. "Is this your idea of freedom? Death?" he said heatedly.
She looked up at him. "I saw my death at the hands of the dead."
"Is this what your god demands?" He held her upright with both arms and gently lowered her to the ground. "A pointless death? Wouldn't your god save you?"
"I sought the warmth of death," Sabrina replied softly. "This was my choice." She started coughing, flecks of blood leaving her mouth.
Morty kneeled beside her, placing a hand on her own. "It didn't have to end like this."
She gave him a bloody smile. "I control my fate. You're not like the others, Morty," she said, clasping his hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "We've all made mistakes in life, but not everyone has a chance to make them right. You do. You escaped. Arceus wanted you to escape. He's given you a second chance at life. You have his blessing. Do right by him and you will be rewarded."
Serve Arceus. Turn his back on his own people and find a new god to serve. He didn't see how this would be any different. From one god to another. He looked down at Sabrina again, studying her face, noticing the smile. Peaceful. Joy. Contentment. She was reunited with Arceus.
"He comes for you now. They wait outside the door." Sabrina's eyes closed, her breaths becoming ragged.
"Who waits?"
A faint smile crossed her face. "Do not resist them. It will be easier." Her breaths ceased. A quick, seemingly painless death. He swore then glanced up at the head of Arceus once more. "I don't know what you want from, but so far all I've left is a trail of blood behind. Is that what you ask of your followers?" No answers. Just silence. "She died for you. So have many others. How are you any different from Yvetval? How many more need to die in your name?" Still no answers.
He glanced down at Sabrina. He had to leave her here. Oracles were said to have the blood of the divine creator themselves. If Arceus existed, he'd accept the body as a sacrifice. Again, no response. No surprises there. He turned his back and exited the church, stopping at the entrance to peer over his shoulder to check if the body was still there. Much to his surprise, Sabrina's corpse was gone. There had been no sound. Nothing to indicate she had been taken. Only blood remained.
Startled, he looked at the statue again. The eyes emitted a brilliant white light. It lasted a few moments before fading, and once more the church was silent. Arceus. Unsettled, he headed for the exit. Sabrina dead. A victim of her own magic. She had seen the army of the dead approaching in her dreams. She managed to escape it by giving up her own life, believing there was a paradise after death. The belief had given her the strength to make the decision. A waste of a life. The girl had deserved better than to be treated as a slave. She had made her choice. Now he had a choice to make of his own.
"I saw him head into the church!"
He froze. The guard from the gate. The man had recognized him after all. Funny how everyone seemed to know who he was even though he hadn't spoken to any of the other guards. "Let's see if Arceus watches over me now," Morty murmured, stopping just short of the door. Up ahead, he saw the gatekeeper accompanied by Chuck. The man was holding some rope.
"You are under arrest for conspiring to murder Prince Benga," Chuck said.
Morty raised his hands. "So, you heard." Don't resist, Sabrina had said. Was this also part of Arceus's grand plan for him? Get arrested and thrown into a dungeon?
"Lance issued an order to find you based on an account shared by Lyra and Gary." Chuck approached him and bound his wrists together with the rope. "You'll be taken to the castle. I have to say I'm disappointed – you showed a lot of potential. If Arceus smiles down upon you, you might just survive, but ultimately Lance will decide your fate."
Morty kept his mouth shut and followed Chuck towards the castle.
.
The necromancer population was small. Certainly not enough to pose a serious threat to any major city, but more would come. Naoko dead. N sacrificed. He had witnessed the man's death with his own eyes. Eusine drew in a sharp breath, trying to keep his emotions under control. He could not show weakness. Weakness would not be tolerated. But how could he remain strong when his mind was overwhelmed with N's final breaths and the cruelty of it? Torn to pieces. Ripped part alive. A meal for the dead.
The other necromancers gathered around the clearing. There were about thirty in total. There should've been more, but some had fled to other regions, believing their cause to be just a fool's dream. Eusine didn't know half the necromancers present. He didn't need to know. Names were unimportant.
Kuni approached him flanked by her other two sisters, Miki and Sayo. All three were dressed in drab black hooded robes. The other two sisters, Naoko and Zuki were absent. "Naoko has disappeared. We sent our ravens to find her, but no luck."
Eusine shrugged. "I haven't seen them myself."
"It's unlike her to disappear like this," Kuni said.
"I don't know anything," Eusine said. "I haven't seen her either."
"Where is N?" Sayo said, folding her arms across her chest, dark bangs falling around her face.
"No one knows," Eusine added. Several other necromancers nodded. No one knew a thing. "Naoko doesn't tell us many things unless you are part of the inner circle. The last person she favoured ended up in the pits. He's probably dead now."
Miki shook her head. "The other guards said the same thing. We checked. All we found is the corpse of our sister, Zuki. She was killed and left there to rot. Naoko and Zuki disagreed on many things, but Naoko would never sentence her sister to death. Not like this."
Morty had escaped. But how?
"Zuki had sent an assassin to kill the king," Eusine answered. That was the gossip. A terrible mistake.
"Zuki always thought she could take control of the situation," Sayo replied.
"And a ridiculous idea," Miki said. She pointed at Sayo's face. "If you had the man had been assassinated in his own castle, Zuki would've ruined everything. It would've been too obvious. This is exactly why Naoko did not entrust Zuki with the bigger tasks." Her lower lip curled.
Tilting her head to one side, Sayo frowned. "Zuki is our youngest sister."
"And she did not tell us she was coming here. She came alone. Are we not a family? We are supposed to be united, but she abandoned us."
Sayo opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps made her close her mouth.
Eusine turned around. Ghetsis strode towards the centre of the campsite, his fingers curled around his staff. The weapon would allow Ghetsis to raise the dead at will. He now had power over life and death. He had ascended to godhood. The six sages walked behind him in a v formation, their hoods pulled down, concealing their faces.
The other necromancers dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. Eusine also kneeled. The true king. The saviour of their people. The one who would restore the balance of power into their hands.
Ghetsis raised his hands. "It is thanks to your efforts that I walk amongst you now once again. Our freedom was taken years ago, but we will retake what is rightfully ours!" He paced back and forth his staff raised in the air. It was made of twisted wood. "You will no longer live in fear of a false king! The true king has been reborn, and the world shall burn! We march on Blackthorn tonight!"
Eusine climbed to his feet, shifting his gaze from the sky to ground level. Something did not feel right. They had an army of necromancers, but that wouldn't be enough. How were they going to breach the walls with a small army? He mustered up the courage to speak, raising his hand like a child questioning their teacher.
Ghetsis turned to him. "You may speak."
"We're too few in number to fight."
A slow smile spread across his face. "Are you sure about that?" He stretched his arms to the side and the six sages linked hands their heads bowed as if in prayer. Ghetsis then broke the link and slammed his staff onto the ground causing a mild tremor.
"What is going on?" Mikisaid, looking around alarmed.
Even the sturdiest trees shook. Their branches swayed as if a strong wind had blown through. Eusine looked around his feet, his eyes widening as cracks appeared in the dirt. They parted and skeletal hands emerged, clawing at the ground. He did not dare move a muscle. The cracks parted some more just wide enough for an adult human to climb out. A grinning skull looked at him. Several more skeletons climbed out of the ground. Some of them were brandishing broken weapons. Others were unarmed. Not that it mattered. Their bodies could easily be used as weapons. How could the living hope to defeat such an army? He looked around. Skeletons continued to emerge out of the ground. He could not count them all. There were so many.
"A battle must have taken place here long before our own," Sayo whispered.
"Numerous battles before the forest grew," Miki added.
"Now the dead become part of us," Kuni finished.
Ghetsis returned the staff on his back. "Blackthorn will be ours. When we have conquered this region, we will turn our attention to Unova." His birth town. Their birth town. "And we will rebuild all in a new world. A place in which we can be free to be who we are. We will raze kingdoms to the ground." He raised his hands again and looked up. A menacing roar filled the air. Through the openings in the canopy, Eusine saw a large, winged creature fly past. Hydreigon, the three-headed dragon. Several birds left their trees.
"…What that a dragon?" Sayo murmured.
"…Yes," Eusine replied, his voice low. "That dragon is going to bring death."
Skeletal beings continued to climb out of the soil. He wondered just how many dead would be joining them. Hundreds. Thousands perhaps? How could anyone hope to survive this? Why did Ghetsis even need their help if he had the army of the dead? Perhaps he had other uses for them. Or had he planned to sacrifice them afterwards as he had done many years ago with the first followers who had become goblins? Only time would tell.
"Now we march."
Lance sat on the throne, a golden cape hanging off his shoulders, and a matching golden blade in his left hand. He was dressed in silver plate armour – the only part missing was the helm piece. Lyra stood at his side. The girl now wore a fine blue dress made of silk – a stark contrast to the rags he had last seen her in. But where was Clair?
Chuck kneeled before Lance. "My liege. I have found him."
"I am no king yet, Chuck. You do not need to bow." Lance ordered the man to rise.
Chuck stood up. "We found him at the church. The new gatekeeper recognized him."
"I'll talk to him alone. You've done well, Chuck."
Chuck bowed and took his leave, closing the doors behind him.
Once the man had left, Lance turned to Morty. "This is the first time we've had a chance to talk to each other face-to-face. We should've had the chance to talk earlier, but you arrived at a busy time. Maybe if I had talked to you, we wouldn't be having this conversation now." He stood up and approached him.
Lance was a good head taller than him, and his armour only made him appear bigger. Morty looked up at him. "What are you planning on doing?"
"You helped Lyra obtain the ingredients to make a poison that would kill Prince Benga."
"She told me she was making poison for rats, and she had to venture out into the forest. I couldn't let her go alone, so I offered to help. I didn't know the poison would be used to kill the prince. So, I added some more milkweed. But you'd think you'd be thanking me – because if I hadn't, Lyra and Clair would be in Unova now." He glanced at Lyra.
She glowered. "I'm not thanking you."
Lance folded his arms over his chest. "Clair killed Prince Benga. Not intentional – the poison was only supposed to make him sick enough to convince grandfather to cancel the wedding – but the poison was too strong. Clair had to kill him, and she tried to blame it on Lyra." He unfolded his arms. "Lyra could've died because of you."
"But she's alive."
"I could have you sentenced to death for conspiring to murder Prince Benga."
Morty frowned. "I didn't plan to kill him."
Lance narrowed his eyes. "You also attacked Gary Oak and his friend, Tracey. I was told you stole a sceptre from Gary. So not only did you attack two unarmed innocent citizens, but you also stole something that was not yours to take. You will be imprisoned until judgement is made about your fate."
Is this what Arceus wanted for him? To be imprisoned like an animal? He grimaced. "I've done many things. Things I'm not too proud of, but you need me."
Cocking an eyebrow, Lance said, "Need you?" He forced a laugh. "I don't need anything from you. Maybe I'll keep you alive and offer you to King Alder as a gift."
"You know about the necromancers."
That grabbed Lance's attention. "I do. How do you know?"
"Because I'm one of them. I know what they're planning. If you kill me, you'll never find out."
Lyra frowned. "He's lying."
"Am I really? I can tell you the amulet Clair was wearing was one of the three relics my people were looking for. So was the sceptre and the ring." Had Sabrina seen this? Was this what Arceus had kept him alive for? To give Lance advice then spend the rest of his life in a prison cell awaiting execution? "I found them. I brought them home. They plan to bring back Ghetsis and raise the army of the dead to march on Blackthorn."
Silence. Lance looked at him as if he were something foreign and dangerous. He switched his sword to his right hand. "…Why would you tell me this?"
"Because I know they're dangerous."
Lance furrowed his brows. "So, you're a traitor to your own people."
"I found that sword in your hands." He withheld information about the faeries to extend his life. No point in telling Lance everything. Not now.
Lance looked down at the blade, running his free hand against the steel. "You'll be taken down to the dungeon. I'll deal with you later."
"Is that all?"
"I need to think."
Morty didn't protest. He was alive – for now at least. Much to his surprise, Lance didn't summon for a guard to lead him down to the dungeon but preferred to do it himself while Lyra stayed at the throne. He grabbed onto one end of the rope and pulled Morty along as if he were an animal on a leash. Morty kept his mouth shut.
Lance led him down the hall towards a spiral staircase. Before descending the stairs, he grabbed a torch off the wall and held it before him. The further down they went, the cooler it became. Into the darkness once more. They soon entered the dungeons. There were six cells. Two were already occupied on the opposite side of the room. Clair and Siebold. Both were peering through the bars.
Lance opened one of the cells with a key and pulled open the door. "This will be yours until further notice," he said, gesturing for Morty to enter the cage. "If you don't move, I'll push you in."
Morty didn't need to be told twice. He walked inside as Lance slammed the bars in his face. "You need me," he said, his last-ditch attempt to try and reason with Lance. But Lance wasn't interest. He locked the cell and turned his back, returning to the stairwell as Morty sunk to the ground. "Is this your mighty plan, Arceus?" he whispered, gazing up at the ceiling. Once again there was no answer.