"What happened?!"
"Yeah, great question kid, great fuckin' question"
I thought I'd seen every side to Rider, even her true white scales the rest of the world could only see as red. However, now she stood in front of me, disgusted in her own ability to take action against their attackers and forced to retreat.
Her heavily damaged armor was of a somewhat standard make for a High-Drake mercenary. Blackened leet plate with gray trimming and a bigger breastplate so elemental stones could be slotted inside.
It didn't have gauntlets or leggings below their double jointed knee, as their scales often matched the strength of normal plate, and the relatively large limbs resulted in a costly conversion.
She pulled an open wagon that stunk of death. Corpses of bandits, soldiers and adventures of all ages. It made me sick to my stomach and they didn't even have time to cover them.
Whatever occurred, it was clear multiple factions were involved across a few skirmishes.
Some of these bodies were missing limbs, others, simply stray body parts, broken, bludgeoned and bloodied.
It didn't make any sense. Weapons and arrows of all sorts with some equipment rusty or extensively used, yet hardly any wounds left by magic?
"Why did you call for my help, not her?"
She stopped the wagon, sliding a broken sword into a wheel as a makeshift break before she gathered the scraps of armor and passed them to me.
"Do what you can with this, it only needs to hold out fer a bit"
"You got a spare hammer?"
"It ain't the time for secrets"
She pointed at my relic, then the training weights I'd been wearing for the past week.
"I need to head back, fast"
Her mind had been made up and her goal was the one responsible for all this slaughter.
Even without showing her what I could now do with my relic, she instantly knew the depth of my growth. And yet, that left me with even more questions as I started to repair her gear the best I could.
Thanks to Enda and Rider, it became a habit for me to always carry around a small pack of various tools. Now I could control my relic, I could easily create the vast majority of them. That pack drastically shrank to strong thread and sewing needles that sat in the back pocket of my coat.
Her equipment had dents and cuts throughout its differing materials.
For someone I knew could avoid blows easily, how she arrived at to be covered in blood and cuts, pulling a wagon of bodies just didn't make sense.
Was it the devil guy?
No, he can use blood to attack as a weapon, the bodies still had enough to paint the road behind us red, and she could sense him at least.
A necromancer?
No, they can't raise the dead any time soon and used decayed bodies infused with magic, but an attack from undead would make sense. After all, she detects the life force in her opponents
In the stories that had necromancers in parties, before the practice was outlawed across the world, recently deceased couldn't be used as too much flesh or 'unnecessary' organs made the process costly, mana wise. Hence they preferred ancient mummified corpses as the best undead servants.
Only one option remained I could think of, and as I moved from piece to piece, I let it slip under my breath. The only thing that could use bodies, fresh or not, said to be a constant pest to the old custodians of the world, who swiftly dealt with them as they appeared.
"A Lich?"
"Sure seemed like one to me"
Rider grabbed my wrist with her free dragon-like hand, cutting the training weight's straps making it clear how she felt about my progress.
"Uhh..."
"Smart fuckers ambushed us, killed all our healers first"
Her voice was filled with regret and her dragon-like eyes filled with guilt. Still, it felt as if she was hiding something, something important.
"If you can't win, why head back?"
I gritted my teeth and picked up the pace, using scraps of the training equipment to reattach a pauldron.
Something about this whole situation was wrong and I felt that time was of the essence.
"Who stayed behind?"
I lowered my voice as other wounded passed us by, their faces wrought with despair. Comrades, friends and family had been killed by something so powerful that even Rider had to retreat, saving who she could... and sacrificing someone else.
"Fine. Why not ask for her?"
"She should tell you 'erself"
Last time she said that, it was because of her curse, the way Enda can't deal with death.
"It works like that?"
"If she aint the cause, she caint see it, let alone smell it, same with er copies"
So it would be throwing her life away without purpose, but that doesn't add up either...
"Can't she just create more, just for this?"
"She can create em' any time, but nothin' new for ninety one years, figure it out"
While hammering out dents then attaching bits together in a rush, I pieced together the past Enda left intentionally obtuse.
She had made so many copies I had no idea what that count reached or what to name each.
They inherit her memories on creation, then make their own over time. She hasn't made any replacements for over ninety years, near when the dragon died but could still create them?
Stories are told of a forgotten hero and both Enda and Red have direct connections... Although, Red had trouble recalling specifics, the same could not be said for her.
She expressed more than regret at the single time she mentioned him, and tried to distance her role in that recollection.
Enda's memories remain intact for people who weren't first born in this world, 'lost souls', so she seeks out their company.
Ninety one years ago the copies stopped, ninety one years ago the dragon fell, ninety one years ago a close friend died and suffered a fate no hero deserves.
She remembers him.
Only Enda remembers that man, someone who fills her with regret...
How would she feel to lose someone like that?
The many times she'd been attacked to the point a normal person would of died, was not because she was incapable of defending, but because she welcomed death?
Enda has no desire to live...
So every copy...
No. Now wasn't the time to think about this, and what could I ask her anyway?
"Can you beat it?"
"..."
"Why won't you tell me anything?"
There is no worse a match up for someone hyper focused on sensing life-force at all times than an undead enemy. She could destroy their physical body, shatter bones, but the incredibly strong mana of such a powerful monster in command could reverse all that damage.
"I knew these people... they were... they're my friends... now they're dead..."
Regret wasn't the only thing I could sense from her, a hint of deception.
"Rider, who stayed behind?"
She looked away and I had enough.
I dropped her tasset and removed the last of my training gear then I threw her my sewing kit.
"Merrah?"
No response.
"Adelard?"
Nothing again.
"Ota?"
Her body language would not betray her, but it didn't need to either.
My blessing can be a powerful weapon wielded by shitty people, but without it, I wouldn't have been able to tell who she saw through her body language alone.
This was the first time I felt truly thankful for it.
Looking down the hill towards Dragons Mort, I could see mounted units approaching in the distance. A group of ten scouts on lesser drakes, bearing flags of both Nala Alliance and the Healers banner.
"I'm going"
"Don't"
"You have another name that suits you better"
It just slipped out, without rime or reason, my disappointment in the half-dragon who I thought I could trust.
All I could feel now was the conflict brewing inside. If I stayed, I would regret it.
These people would be fine, that couldn't be said for certain of the people left behind.
I didn't know why I felt as if I could destroy a Lich, but a spark lit in my heart and I had to do anything I could to save my friends.
Time would be against me, and too much had been wasted already.
Aoife continued to move in-between the injured, healing anyone in a critical state.
"We need to go"
"Huh, why?"
Looking off to my right, I saw our ride fast approaching.
"Because what did this isn't going to stop until it collects enough corpses to crush a nation, and if we don't hurry, the first two bodies will be Ota and Adelard"
"What?!"
Both had been training together as of late, and without a doubt, that would include their ability to track.
"If you want to stay... These people could use your help, but I'm going"
Ellia swooped down nearby on her tamed Ice Dragon, landing nearby on a free patch of grass.
I ran towards her without waiting for a response for Aoife.
Every second could mean death in a fight, and that had certainly been my experience in those I had been in.
"Yooo, slow down kid, what's gotten into you?"
"Please, I need a favor! Can you take me upriver, my friends are fighting a Lich"
"A wha..."
She looked around from her saddle, taking in the wagon, injuries and a look of despair on each and every single passer-by.
"Get on, now!"
Immediately swinging the monster around for take-off, it lowered it's wing as a ramp I ran up, sitting in the small secondary seat often used to hold supplies and grabbed the back of her seat.
"Ya!"
Flicking the reins and kicking with her spurs, the dragon took off as we were boarded by a third passenger.
Aoife launched herself up the full height of the mounts neck with a satchel strapped around her shoulder.
I reached out and grabbed her hand as we heard yelling from below.
"Take this! I'll meet you there! Go!'
Rider threw a staff Ellia caught with one hand and quickly passed to Aoife.
Wooden in construction, it was wrapped in high quality leather and lined with runes, it had an impressive amount of small strange stones attached by short string. A weapon wielded by a fallen ally, maybe even a past friend.
"*sigh* This was meant to be my day off... You two! Hold on tight!"