Lydia's mind was a whirl of colors, shapes, and random thoughts. It was hard for her to stay focused on any one thing for very long. 'Not my fault.' Was one that kept ringing in her brain, but it didn't stick around long. Guilt was a constant struggle that threatened to eat away at her at any moment. She tried to push it away, but it kept coming back. It made her want to vomit, but that too was something that she kept pushing down. 'I've got a job to do.' Rory Davith, Davith's son, came over and put his hand on the woman's shoulder.
"You ok?"
She smiled grimly. "No, but I'll be alright."
"Hey… I just wanted to say, thanks for saving the old man. I mean my dad… He's… he's a pain to the gods at times, as you get to know him you realize how much of an ass he is, but he's a good man. Ya know?" He moved away. "Just… don't tell the old man I said that, ok?"
The words helped her, as did the ones that Gerald had told her just a few days beforehand as they walked in the dark of the plains. "Just... don't forget that there are those who love and care for you. And when I mean you, I mean the real you." 'He even loves his 'ass' of a father.' She thought with a small ray of happiness. She held onto that ray and let it be her rock for the moment. Honestly, this entire week had felt longer than many years to her and was set to be the worst one in history, in her limited view of the world. She swallowed. The caravan was in sight now and she could see the red of the Everseeker's cape from quite a distance, standing out against the black and gray of the ash. 'At least I'm back in my own colors.'
This was true. She stood in the same outfit that she had met the Necromancer in. The light armor, the long dagger, the green trousers, the bright green shoes that complimented the outfit, and even the emblem on her shoulder. Gerald had insisted she be dressed as a Druidess for this. He was also looking towards the gate where they were coming with anxiety. As though something was troubling him…
The Everseeker, upon seeing her standing near the gate, quickly rode ahead of the caravan. "WAIT!" She shouted, pulling on her magic to grow some of the grass near the gates taller and with more weeds.
The Wizard halted, a few steps away from the increased weeds. "What's the meaning of this!?" He bellowed. "Is this a challenge?"
"NO! You misunderstand!" She lowered her pull on the magic. "Listen! We've got plague in here! Unless you got witches, or healers with the immunity blessing, I suggest you rest outside the gates tonight and continue on tomorrow!"
"Plague?" The man asked back, magically amplifying his voice. "Then it's true then… Why was I not informed?"
"The entire…" She breathed deep. "The entire council is down and sick with the disease! We've sent riders for Magi to come help us, but they only left this morning!"
"We only saw some pathetic no-maj on our route." The Wizard replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Then… then we have to assume that the undead of this region got him. He wouldn't wait until morning like we suggested!"
The Wizard paused. It was as good an explanation as any, especially in this land which was coated by the sleeping undead. "Who's the most affected?"
"Unfortunately, mostly us REAL people." She stated. It was something that Gerald had suggested, and she felt a shiver of distaste at saying it out loud. "We're battling it as best as we can, but we've already got dead in here." This caught the man's attention.
"What about the guards?"
"We're… kind of quarantining up here for now. These men haven't been able to see their families for a couple of days now." Her lie flew from her mouth, and the 'guards' nodded or looked onwards, somberly.
The Everseeker was not an overly smart man, or he might have demanded to contact someone from the council. Luck prevailed after a moment of thought from the man. "Wait here!" He ordered. He then turned and rode back to the oncoming caravan. Lydia watched on, her mind holding on to one emotion now. Terror. 'What if he doesn't believe me? What if I failed? What will Gerald do? Will he have me fight on the front? I can't handle…' All at once, the vision of the Druidess she had killed flashed before her eyes, and the thought of her twitching on the road-
Vomit spilled out of her, over the wall and down the side of it. She immediately leaned over, holding in more vomit and fell to her hands and knees close to the edge. One of the guards moved to help her, but Rory (fortunately) was smarter than the other man was. "BACK! BACK YOU IDIOTS!" He roared, pushing the man back with the but of his spear. "YOU WANT TO FALL VICTIM TO IT TOO?" The Wizard had turned and was watching now with rapt attention. Lydia wretched again, the sound carrying on the wind. More came out of her, and the men backed off and looked both disgusted and shocked. None of them had prepared for this…
The Wizard rode up a little closer to the wall, but seeing the vomit fly from Lydia's mouth a third time told him that she wasn't lying. "I've decided that we'll camp out here tonight!" The Everseeker stated, his voice amplified. "You there! Chief!"
Rory stood at attention. "Get her back in there. I want a quarantine setup before dawn tomorrow. Is that understood?"
"Yes, SIR!" The man played his role well.
"No… really… I'm-" Vomit spewed from Lydia again, though not as much as before, and the Everseeker backed away.
"Get her back!"
"Come on miss!" Rory called, pushing at her with the end of his staff. "Let's get you with what healers are still able to work…"
Gerald openly laughed when Rory told him what had happened. (Lydia was off to the side, her head over a bucket and her hair disheveled.) "I knew that Everseekers were stupid, but this!" He chuckled harder. His luck had held. In this case, in the harshest of problems. He calmed himself, finally, and turned to Lydia. "Lydia, if I could, I'd release you from the slavery pact right now! You've more than earned it."
"Please-" An odd look, and her head was back in the bucket.
Gerald looked back at Rory. "Tell the men that they can have two glasses full of liquor tonight if they're able to keep this up."
Rory smiled, bowed lightly, and then hurried back to the wall.
Gerald looked back at the Druidess. 'What a woman…' He thought. 'I don't know of many who could have pulled that off. Nor as well…' He felt bad for the woman, he truly did. He knew that it wasn't intentional that she vomited, especially that she was probably vomiting about what had happened earlier in the day. He smiled at the woman, who dry heaved at the smell coming from the bucket. He patted her gently on the back. "Get to bed. Something tells me you need a stiff drink and a proper night's rest."
"No." She said, setting the bucket down. "I'm… I'm… Ok…"
"You're clearly not." The Necromancer's voice was firm there. "I know it'll be hard, but I want you to leave the rest to us. I promise that I will get you if we need you."
"You know you need me." She countered, her eyes focussing on him. "Why else would you-"
"Needed." He corrected. "Past tense. I still want you in the fight ahead. Everseekers may be stupid, but they are among the more powerful that the Wizards can find." He paused. "By Dreiss, I will try to take a nap if I can. The gods know I could certainly use one."
"I… have a… question about that." Lydia muttered.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I have a… a question… about that."
"Go ahead."
"When we first met… you…" She swallowed some vomit back down and continued, "You told me that you didn't worship."
"I don't."
"But you still use the phrases for those of us who believe and worship. Why?"
He smiled. "There are worse things to do, and I know, for a fact, that the gods are there watching over us."
"Then… then why not worship?"
"They asked me not to." His reply was brisk, curt, and to the point.
Lydia was caught completely off guard by that. "They… they spoke-"
"I'm not allowed to talk more about that." Gerald responded. "Forget I said anything." He thought quietly. "Perhaps, one day, I'll be allowed to worship again, but for now just suffice it to say that I don't worship." He then lifted her arm, slung it over his shoulder, and began to half carry the woman away from the bucket and towards a nearby house. He knocked on the door, then proceeded inside the empty building. He half-carried her up the stairs and into a small bedroom with a wider bed, placing her on it. She struggled, but he just pushed her back down. "Please… get some sleep." He cooed. He poured some Druidic magic into his words, and her eyes almost immediately began to flutter a little more. "No dreams… just rest…"
She looked at him hard, fighting the spell but being unable to resist. "Just know… you're gonna… have to tell me… how you can use… all these…" With that, she was gone. The magic was guiding her thoughts away from dreams, and into the quiet stillness of sleep.
Gerald stood, and covered her with a blanket, smiling as he did so. 'She deserves so much more than this.' He thought, looking down on her restful, sleeping form, before turning and walking out of the room, out of the house, and towards the council chambers.
************************
Hermina Dor woke lightly. Her hand was in her lap, and not on her master's. Master… oh… such a wonderful man. 'Pity I didn't know him much while I was alive.' She thought in despair. They had only met the two times in her life, but even then he had left his mark on her. She was glad that she was his, in any event. But where was he? She stood slowly and looked around. The others of her family were not yet awake. 'Well, I am an early riser.' She thought. She flew around the hall and searched several of the rooms in the back of the building. Nothing. She went back to the hall and looked at the council. They were still there. They were beginning to use their magic to attempt to break through the barrier that held them, but it remained strong.
"Good afternoon." Hermina whispered. This caused the four people to jump. She chuckled darkly. "Did you really think you were alone?" She materialized just outside of the barrier.
The Druid stood tall and defiant. "Begone demon." He stated. "I rebuke you."
"Oh dear! You'll hurt my feelings." She chuckled softly, so as to not wake up the sleeping Vampires. "Rebuke me… you sound like a fool."
"In the name of Dryassiad, I command thee to leave us hence." He stated confidently. Standing tall and defiant, making the sacred triangle of Dryassiad with his fingers.
"I'll have to think about it…" She responded. "Hmmm… no." She almost cackled loudly, but stopped herself, especially with the look that the Druid was making.
"Well… you can't get to us-" Hermina walked through the barrier with a smile. The barrier was not for the undead after all.
"You were saying?" She flashed a toothy grin, and the Druid immediately attacked her with magic. Hermina yawned as the water spell bounced off of her and disintegrated into the barrier. The man then tried to punch her, and she caught his hand with a single finger. Vampires may not be able to enter private property without permission, but they were powerful creatures. In the dark, even more so. The vampress looked at him, bored at the exchange. "I personally don't see what the master wants from you. I'm certain that if he were able to rest properly, he would be able to easily sense wherever you hid the town charter. Such as it is, he also wants you to suffer…"
"Then kill us." The Druid retorted, "We will never-" The Vampress pulled him close, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and causing a tear in the light and fancy clothing.
"Never, is a strong word…" She whispered, "I suggest that you don't lie to a vampire." She then stepped backwards, releasing the man and walking out of the barrier wall. "I also suggest that you decide to talk to master everything quickly. He can be merciful if people do what they should do…" With that, she turned and melding into the shadows.
She reappeared in one of the living quarters, which she could only assume was the Sorcerer's. It was dark, covered in velvety purples, grays, and the blacks. Large clear stones, with only a little reflection, echoed the vampress' image back at her. Clearly, they weren't backed with silver, or had silver in their makeup. The vampress looked around the room and found what she was looking for. A long black cloak with a hood lay folded in a drawer that was half open. Clearly, she had left in a hurry the night before with the word of the attack. Hermina looked it over. 'Could use a little more flair.' She flung it on, and wrapped it tight. Not enough to protect from the noon sun, but enough to walk outside. She honestly missed the sun, and the warmth it brought. In life, she had wished that the sun would go away, to allow an eternal night, but now she only wished to bathe in the sunlight. But the pain…
Hermina shook her head. Such matters were beyond her, and it would be up to Dreiss when the world would be renewed.
She then left and materialized at the entrance to the building. Looking around one more time, and pulling the cloak closer to her, she walked into the shade of the entrance. Even the cold winds of the encroached winter warmed her. "Lady Dor." A skeleton at the door stated, "We've been given instructions that you are to take command of the vampiric garrison. There is another group of magi outside the walls, and we have only just been saved from destruction."
"Praise the Master and Dreiss." She said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"Nay, Master has asked for all praise to go towards the non-magi and lady Lydia."
At this, the vampress' smile fell. "You mean the Druidess who was with the Master?"
"That's her. She is resting and recuperating from taking her first kill. Are you wishing to see the master?"
"Of course."
"Then please do not wake him. He is in the house just across the plaza on the third floor. He is sleeping pretty soundly."
"Is the druidess with him?" She asked, and surprised herself with the venom in her voice.
"No. She's in the old chief's house. That's, chief of the guard, mind you. Second floor."
"And how do you know?"
"Master told us skeletons so they would not be disturbed unless at the uttermost need."
"I'll… I'll wait on the master." Hermina stated, and then immediately pulled the hood over her head ('This will ruin my hair') and then walked into the sunlight. The late afternoon sun was strong, but she was a countess, and one of the strongest. She avoided letting her skin be outside of the cloak, and walked slowly but steadily. The cloak dragged on the ground behind her, as it was a little long, but she didn't care. It hid her feet better. The door was unlocked to the master's house, and she quietly made her way to the third floor.
She opened the lone door, as it was meant to be a private room, and there he was. The larger bed was clearly for someone of great wealth and prestige, but her master was curled up in a corner of it. She closed the window shades, something he had forgotten to do in his exhaustion, and then sat next to him on the bed. Her eyes filled with loving kindness, looking at the man who breathed deeply beside her. She took in his features, memorizing every aspect. 'How much do I really love him?' She found herself wondering. It was a question that held her brain speechless. As a necromancer, before her death, she understood that the raising of a Count or Countess conferred some feeling of love and/or attachment for the Master. How much was unknown, however. She found herself remembering her emotions from over 400 years ago when he had raised her. 'I don't think it was this strong.' She thought, wishing that it would reassure her. It was a familiar thought, and one that had bothered the back of her love for the sleeping necromancer. She leaned down and whispered almost inaudibly in his ear, "I love you." The man gave no response, nor change even in his breathing. She sat upright, proud of herself for saying her feelings. She remained sad that she knew he would never return her feelings. She lamented not knowing him in life. Not bearing his children. Not running away with him on that scatterbrained idea of his to attempt to gather the other survivors and flee to the northlands to start again…
'Now he's alone… What a burden.'