Gerald awoke, still sitting in the chair, the room still dark around him, but some slivers of light peered in from the window. During the day, the Vampires around him rested. He smiled as a several snored near him, and a young female vampress rolled in her sleep on the floor, with a big smile on her face. Hermina slept, holding his hand lightly on her own. Her face was calm, and Gerald smiled at it, remembering the times they had met before her death. Another Necromancer, and such a pretty one in life… He shook his head. 'That was a long time ago.' He scolded himself. After all, it wouldn't do for a master to be attracted to his servants. Well, maybe be attracted, but definitely not to act on it. 'Not that she'd mind.' His brain thought before he could quiet it. It was an annoyance, the desires of his body, but he squelched them much the way he always had. 'Too much hassle. Especially since Hermina will do whatever it takes to get pregnant…' He shuddered. The babies of Vampires and Necromancers did not have a great reputation. A Lych tended to be hungry, and outgrew their parents in both magic and commanding power at a young age. Very hard to control, and very dangerous if left outside of a necromancer's control.
Gerald slowly moved the Vampress' hand back onto her lap, stretched, and then slowly stood. The darkness of the room couldn't hide the Necromancer's senses, and he saw the four surviving members of the council in a corner. They were talking to Fash, as much as they could. Fash, for his part, was very quiet and was whispering softly.
"...Fash… not him… not anymore… look… Fash gonna have… babies…" He pointed to his stomach, which was poking out oddly. 'Well, he did eat five women yesterday.' Gerald reminded himself. He walked towards them, watching his step to avoid the sleeping vampires. It was like they had crowded up to the podium specifically to be close to him… There were about 20 in all, and Gerald was happy to see that so many had come.
He finally stood next to Fash, and it seems that his appearance startled the living magi in their corner. "Good morning." He said, with a small smile. "Any change of heart yet?"
Their silence was all the answer he needed. "Very well. Vampires will have to get it out of you when they wake up." 'Pity I can't ask for some aid from some Succubi.' He thought. The Succubi were long since gone, and their portals to their own demonic lairs long since sealed by the Sorcerers. Not that any of the people in front of him were old enough to remember that, like he was. The Druidess looked ready to wet herself just at the thought of being turned loose on the vampires.
"What about the women?" The Druid asked, stepping forward.
"What about them?" Gerald asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Can you promise their safety? Marigold here," He pulled the Druidess up. "She's from the House of Vines… one of the higher houses-"
"I have no use for another Druidess at this time." Gerald interrupted. "Especially with some of the things she's said…" He let his voice taper off, his mind flowing with the memory of her and the slurs she had used when she thought only her and the guards were nearby.
She, however, just turned to the Druid in frustration. "And what of you, Lord of the House of Thorns?!"
"Quiet…" The Necromancer warned. "You'll wake the Vampires. You'll find that Vampires are terrible if they are woken up for any reason before they've slept properly." This shut the woman up. "Well… two members of the high court of The Green. Lesser sons and daughters, I'm assuming." He smiled and walked a little closer. "Vampires have always had a knack for locking their victims up. Didn't think it was this good though." He wandered around the living captives. There was no cage around them, but the closer that he got, the more the hair on his arm buzzed with electricity. The council looked on, but the Necromancer was silent. He felt his connection with the magic. 'Still raw. I need more time before anything major, but I could, perhaps, do more in a couple of hours.' He looked back at the council. "I don't like torture, as information that it gives doesn't tend to be accurate." (He had wasted years torturing a Wizard looking for a cure for the Warlocks before) "So… I hope you are all comfortable there. Fash is pretty good company, but won't be around much longer."
This stunned the Druidess who finally spoke. "What do you mean?"
Gerald smiled. "In about a week or so, Fash here is going to be a proud father. Probably about 50 kids or so, wouldn't you say?"
Fash smiled and held itself proudly. "Twenty Females, Twenty-Five Males."
"But…" The Druidess pressed. "Won't that kill him?"
"Most likely." Gerald replied with a grin. "Kind of a fitting end for him. The one who wanted to kill and put it in the mind of the rest of you, now being the birth father of an entire family of abominations." He walked away, chuckling darkly. The poor captive council left looking terrified and Fash looking like the proud father he was going to be soon. That was the way abominations created more of their kind. Eating women. Especially women who were still in their fertile years…
Gerald carefully opened the door to the council chambers, ensuring that no direct sunlight streamed in and closed it quickly behind him. Always best not to risk vampires turning to dust with prolonged exposure to the sun. He breathed in the late morning air, and felt a little more refreshed. Gerald was still tired, but at least nothing else had happened yet.
"Master." A skeleton by the door said, standing at attention. "We have scouts spotting a group of around two-hundred coming up the road. They all appear to be magi, and they are led by a man with a large red cape and a staff of black."
This woke the Necromancer from his tiredness in the worst possible way. "Are you certain of the cape and staff color?"
"Positive sir."
"By the gods…" Gerald bowed his head. "Pity I'm already weary. Gather the commanders and get me Davith from the non-magi portion of the town. I need them now!"
"Davith is already on his way with a young Druidess we must have missed last night."
"It may be my guest. Bring them quickly, but not cruelly."
"Yes Master."
All of the surviving skeletons were soon in front of him, after only a few minutes. With them, came Davith and Lydia. 'Something's wrong…' Lydia stared ahead, her eyes puffy and red, and she continued to sniff at nothing. Her face was long, and her eyes seldom blinked. It was true, hard, shock. She was being led by a skeleton, who stayed overly close to her. "Davith, I need you to gather the men. As many as you can get me in the next hour. I need at least 100. Can you do it?"
"Yes, my lord."
This caught Gerald off guard. "I'm not a lord-"
"You're my lord." Davith interrupted, lifting his head and looking directly into the necromancer's gray eyes. "My family has never forgotten the love and support of your race. We even had a prophecy that one would take this town and claim it as his own for an age."
"I… I have no right to claim this land, unless the entirety of the monarchy is dead." Gerald responded, taking a step back in shock. One didn't, purposefully, mess with prophecy. Especially those which came from non-magi. Those always came true.
"Surely they are dead." Davith said, bowing his head. "This land would be green again if they were alive."
"I…"
"My lord… might I suggest calling yourself regent, if you do not wish the true rulership on yourself. Then, should a member of the ruling family return, you may give the rule of this land to them." Davith's words made sense, and it was obvious that he had been thinking of it for some time. (Or, perhaps, it was a family idea hatched in the eons since the destruction of the Necromancers.)
'It makes sense.' He thought, but he shook his head. "I… I would need to think on such matters, and I may not be around much to rule over this city."
"Then leave those as you trust to protect it in your absence, but-"
"But nothing." Gerald interrupted. I will think about such matters at another time. We're not out of the woods yet."
The old man looked taken aback, but frowned and bowed. "100 men. You shall have them before the end of the next hour… sir."
"Thank you Davith. Though, do you know what has happened to Lydia? She looks like she lost a part of herself…"
Davith frowned. "She may have… Lady Lydia just saved my life." This brought a look of complete surprise from the necromancer. "We found… we found a survivor from yesterday. A druidess… she…" The old man picked his words carefully before he continued. "Lady Lydia had to kill that… monster in Druidess clothing to save my life." He lowered his bow. "Sir, if you would take the advice of a lowly non-magi-"
"There is no difference in standing in my eyes between magi and non-magi."
"Then… if you will take the advice of this old man, I would ask that you help her. Taking your first life… it is always hard on the soul."
At this, the necromancer nodded. "And it never leaves you." He turned to the Druidess, "Nor should it. May it haunt you and remind you of the cost of taking any lives in the future." Lydia didn't even nod or notice that Gerald was talking to her. Her mind, if thought was happening, was blank. She later described it as though seeing the world through a fog with what sound got through as garbled, or incoherent.
Gerald, turned to the skeletons. "This woman is off limits for all of my servants. She is mine for the time being, and she is to be treated as though she were my property. With care, kindness, and respect." The skeleton that was close to her backed away and nodded. "But we have no time for this at this time. We have company coming. Davith, please hurry. I'll inform you and those you can bring with you when you come back." The old man nodded and hurried off down the road. "The rest of you. There may be battle before the night falls. Even in the next few hours. The reinforcements for the… the council are coming. They are being led… they are being led by an Everseeker." The skeletons didn't show surprise or anything, but some straightened in defiance. "We have much to prepare, and very little time to prepare it. I cannot be as much of a help as I was last night. My magic is still lower than I'd like." The skeletons stomped. "Commanders, I need you to devise battle plans for keeping the enemy outside of the city and for if they get through the gates."
"It will be done Master." A uniform reply. The skeletons immediately began to move and pushed their way into the houses, businesses, and other places nearby. Gerald didn't know much of their strategy, and didn't care much. Right now, there was a woman who needed him a lot more than he needed her right now. 'And I need her immediately.'
Gerald moved Lydia over to what used to be an inn and quickly poured her a stiff drink of whisky and stood at the bar with her. "Drink this." He ordered. Lydia did so, or tried before coughing at the strength of the alcohol. She finished the drink in sips, and Gerald quickly refilled the glass. "Again." He ordered. She did so, a little faster this time. He didn't give her a third, however. He needed her cogent. "Lydia… Can you hear me?"
"I can hear you." She replied, almost monotone. Her voice cracked, and a small tear slipped out of her left eye.
"Lydia… I need you right now." Gerald said, patting her on the shoulder. "Please!"
"What do you want me to do?" She replied in the same, horrible tone as that first evening on the plains.
"I need you to help me defend this town."
"I can't defend anyone-"
"You can!" Gerald insisted. "I know you can."
"What's the point? It doesn't really matter anyways." Her voice slipped away and a darkness clouded her eyes and face. Gerald then grabbed her cheek and turned her face to him.
"Lydia, daughter of the house of Roses, Heiress of that house and all its privileges, Twelfth in line to the Throne of Thorns…" She looked up a little at that.
"What does that matter now?"
He frowned and kept her cheeks in his hands. "It matters because that is what is part of you! Especially what makes you, you."
"And who am I?" She replied, her eyes finally reaching the gray of the necromancer's. Tears swelled near the bottom, but the eyes refused to give up their treasures.
"You are Lydia. Lady, warrior, and perhaps more if you will let it be." He released her cheek but held her gaze. "Lydia…" He chose his words carefully. "I need you today. Nobody else can pull this off. This delaying tactic to delay the enemy until the coming of dark will need all of you." He frowned deeper, poured himself a drink of the whiskey, and downed it quickly. "I'm… I'm too weak and limited to pull off what I need you to do."
She continued to look at him. "And what is that?"
"Just… talk to them on the wall. Claim that there's a plague or something. Anything to get them to not want to come into the city."
"Wouldn't that be lying?" She asked, looking at the Necromancer suspiciously, the monotonous tone of voice still grating to him.
"I… I can't be the one to lie. I can barely get around it with half truths or avoiding telling everything, but even that could be seen as a lie of omission. The curse could get me, and then you and all who live here would be killed." He frowned. "I said this before, but I don't think you were listening at the time. This group is being led by an Everseeker."
"Everseeker?" This conjured up something for the Druidess. "I've met Everseekers before…"
"And what happened?"
"They burned the entire city of Monteq to the ground." She responded.
"So help me save the living people here." Gerald said. "Please."
Silence sat strong in the little inn with nobody else inside it. The woman, her mind a little clearer, began for the first time since her encounter with the mad druidess to think…
She chuckled darkly. "Not that it matters… But what would I get if I did this thing you are asking for and succeeded?"
"What do you want?"
"Can you get rid of the guilt I feel?" She said, her eyes watering again, and before another two seconds had passed, she grabbed the necromancer in a massive bear hug and was crying into his chest armor. The necromancer stood stunned for several seconds before finally reaching around and returning the hug gently. He didn't say a word, but allowed her to get it out. By the time that Davith had gotten his men and had returned, Lydia had finally slowed to just a standard set of tears.
"Seems she did it to you as well." Davith said, keeping the rest of his men at bay outside of the now abandoned inn. Gerald nodded, and Lydia turned to him. "I'm sorry… I'm such a-"
"No apologies necessary." Davith replied. "It's an old saying here that a man's job is to catch all of his bride's tears." He smiled at her. "I'm just impressed you didn't vomit. That's what I did after killing my first time."
"You've killed before?" Gerald asked, looking at the old man in a new light.
"Bastard tried to rape my wife." Davith responded with a shrug. "Mind you, both me and her were both much younger, I was stronger, and my Martha was quite the looker before she went beyond the veil." He winked and his smile was dark. "I'd kill that bastard again too, if I had the chance."
"How did you move on?" Lydia asked, her voice pitiable.
Davith's smile immediately sank. "You take one day at a time at first. You put up with the nightmares, and you lean heavily on those you love for the time being."
"And if you have nobody you love?"
Her question struck the old man who thought for a moment. "Then lean on those you trust. I've caught a few of your tears already my dear, but I don't think I'll be the one to catch many more, unless the gods have greater designs on me than I can see." He smiled again. "Besides, I think you've found a good shoulder on the one beside you."
She looked at the Necromancer sideways, but didn't nod or shake her head. "We haven't even known each other for a week." Gerald replied to the silence. "I think it would be presumptuous to call us friends or even enemies at this point."
"I've made friends in less time." Davith laughed. "Now hurry up. My men are growing restless out here..."