The sun began to set as Gerald woke up. He had slept longer than he meant to, but seeing the woman at his side made him realize that everything was alright. "Hello Hermina." He said, stretching before sitting up in bed. "How long have you been up?"
"Not long. Couple of hours."
"But that would mean-"
"I've always been an early riser." Hermina replied with a wink. "Makes me that much more productive." The vampress smiled a toothy grin at her master. "I've already organized the vampires so as to have minimal losses, though I'll have to wait to have them move until later."
"Thank you."
"The Skeletons are exiting through the far gate and are preparing to march on your order on the enemy."
"Alright." She watched him as he stood and, bleary eyed, cracked the window to look out of it. (So as to not put her in direct sunlight.) The bright light made him wince slightly before it adjusted. The place looked very empty without the majority of the people in the town. Non-magi dug graves for the magi below in the area near the wall, a mass trench grave already almost completely full of men, women, and children. A few women were roaming with their children, sizing up the now empty houses to see if their own families would fit. A flock of ravens flew over the area where the enemy waited beyond the gate, knowing that something was about to happen, but not understanding what. Gerald closed the window shade and turned to face the woman who was still sitting. "We have a lot to do tonight." She nodded, her face still smiling. "You ok? Normally, you seem a lot more focused."
"I'm just happy to be near you again, master." She cooed. "I've missed you so much."
He chuckled. "It had been too long. What was it, about seventy years?"
"About that." She admitted. "But it felt longer."
"That's sweet." He yawned, and felt his magical connection. 'Pretty good. At least enough to deal with a lone Everseeker.' He knew this firsthand. He had killed Everseekers alone before. Usually through ambush, though he surprised himself when one actually recognized him about 300 years ago and had attacked him head on. Only the scar on his arm told of the encounter, and even that was only because the Everseeker had surprised him. Gerald rubbed it. It sometimes still itched, as the power the woman had thrown into it was severe and deep.
"Does it still bother you?" Hermina asked, noticing him rubbing the old scar.
"Not often." He answered. "Usually only before lightning or something big is about to happen."
"Oh… so just memory then."
"I wish." He smiled at her. "It was a good thing I had you're den to hurry back to and wait for the others to move far enough away."
The Vampress nodded. "The pleasure was all mine."
He frowned. "Back to work again it seems."
"The skeletons are awaiting your call to arms, and the vampires merely await the end of the sunset." She stood and curtsied. "Master… if I may make one request of you."
'She's earned it.' "What is it?"
"I wish…" She caught herself and shook her head. "I hope that I will have the pleasure of your company after all of this is done. Back at Castle Dor that is. I feel that I have missed your company far more than I knew." She frowned at the floor. It wasn't what she truly wanted, but she knew that he would be a tough nut to crack.
"I would like nothing more. Consider it a promise my old friend."
Her happiness at hearing that he would come was crushed with the word 'friend'. "Thank you sir."
"Hermina…" The Necromancer bent down and lifted her up, pulling lightly on her cheek and raising her. As soon as she was fully upright he did something that he had never done before. He gave her a soft kiss on her lips. The Vampress gladly accepted the kiss, but while she wished that it would last forever, he pulled away rather quickly. "Please do not get the wrong idea." He replied to her startled look. "It's an old custom of the Gin, and one I like. You kiss a beautiful woman before going to battle. That way, even should you fall, you will have her name imprinted on your lips." He smiled at her. "The Goddess Jasmine apparently gave this right to the Gin, but I feel we would honor her if you accepted it."
"Ah… um… gladly…" The Vampress was clearly distracted by something, but the Necromancer let it lie. He then grabbed his cloak, the only thing he had taken off before collapsing into the bed, tied it around himself, and then quickly left the room, the Vampress still standing where he had kissed her. 'Pity I wasn't able to do that before the battle began.' He thought. 'I really like that custom…'
Promith, Everseeker and future lord of Portal, paced around his tent. It had been erected just outside of the gate, and he could hear the movement. 'Not the best of receptions.' He had ordered the caravan to set up camp and the first of the protective scouts would be out and about in about an hour. He smiled thinking of the old man he had killed a few hours before. "Serves the no-maj right. Talking to his betters." He looked around, but his tent was still empty. His servants were still gathering his personal effects from the carts, and soon his desk and a wardrobe with a full length mirror had floated into the room, with his servants in tow. He flipped a coin at them, and watched the two men fight over it. He chuckled as he watched. It was a silver coin, so the fight was even more intense than usual. Soon, one ran off with the coin, with the other man lying unconscious on the floor, his blood pooling on the ashen ground before sinking into it. To make sure the man was dead, Promith stabbed him with the bottom of his staff. The black of the staff dripped with the bright red blood as he pulled it out. 'Little bastard couldn't handle it.' He laughed lightly at the thought. 'Well, at least the servants will get some meat with dinner tonight.' He laughed at the thought of making them eat their fallen comrade, but soon stopped himself. 'Right… kingly.' He stopped in front of the wardrobe and opened it. Fine clothing lay within, all hung and clean, in addition to a small ball that lay on the ground which was covered in silks. It was this that he grabbed.
He unwrapped it, lovingly, and set it on the ground in front of him. He raised it with magic and called the council, pushing his magic through his staff, and the gem that stood at the end of it. A flash of light emanated from the ball, and soon an old man's face with a long black beard seemed to stand in the air above the ball. "Promith." The old man stated, running fingers through his beard that seemed to appear. "I trust that Portal is to your liking, save the unclean of course."
"Of course." The Everseeker bowed. "Circleman, I have not been able to enter the city as of yet."
This caused the old man to raise an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"There's a spot of plague in the city, and it seems to be affecting the real citizens more than the filth." He looked the old man in the eye.
"Any proof?"
"Watched a Druidess vomit from the wall myself."
"Vomit means nothing. It is passing and fleeting."
"According to the chief of the guard, this is how they all began. Otherwise, I wouldn't even waste my time not heading into the city."
The old man stroked his beard more. "So you are waiting out a quarantine in the plains?"
"I was planning on doing so." Promith stated. "I thought I could erect a statue to the council here, after purging it of the undead menace. Showing us mercifully waiting out the plague."
"We will not send any medics to your position. You must be able to handle such matters on your own."
"That is not why I called you." The Everseeker said. "I honestly called to see if you were well, father. I know that your back has been bothering you."
The older man shrugged. "It is nothing that I cannot handle. That is one of the reasons why we bear the staff after all. To bear the burdens of this world."
"In the name of the one true Goddess." Promith finished. "As we all know."
"Good. Now, my son. I don't wish to waste your powers on such trivialities as visiting with your father."
"I am also curious how mother and my brothers are doing?"
"Mother is fine, though she misses you. Your brothers in the Everseeker's Brotherhood continue the great hunt. There was some evidence left in the city of Woodstand not even a week ago, shortly after you left."
"Pity I could not be there to hunt the last of them."
The old man smiled. "He escaped, but he will be found. We tracked him to a Gin town, but they are busy with their own foolish war."
"They haven't found the bodies yet?"
"No. The Druidic fools still believe that the prince stole the princess, and the Gin are desperately hunting for their lost prince." He laughed harshly. "When will the other races learn that we are superior and just give up their feeble grasps on magic?"
"When we make them, father." Promith said, chuckling. "But that day is, hopefully, soon enough."
"True. The Expiration is coming for the last of the Warlocks, and then it will be time for all of the other races." The old man smiled. "Such is the will of the Circle after all."
"The Circle shall reign supreme." The Everseeker bowed to his father. "But father… I have one question."
"Speak it, but quickly. Another meeting begins soon."
"When will we be able to move against the other Councilmen? Surely, we have enough power now."
"Not yet my son. But within the next fifty years… that I have no doubt. Now do not bring this up again, unless in person with me. You know the secrecy with which we are bound."
"I know my father. May Tressed shine on our doings."
"May she bless all of our efforts, and end the scourge of the filthy from our midst." The Everseeker raised a hand, and the ball fell on the ground.
"Still not yet." Promith muttered, kicking the ash beneath his feet. "When will it be time for the great purge?" He kicked the ash at his feet again, but this time felt something harder. He bent down and noticed the skeletal finger of a skeleton. He almost recoiled, but laughed instead. "Inactive. Good." He kicked the finger again, laughing as it flew across the room. "Well… should I head back to Necrosh or wait here for another week?" He turned back to the wardrobe, wrapped the ball again, and placed it back in the Wardrobe. The sun was setting, and he felt like killing some Zombies…
Lydia woke with the soft evening sun shining on her face, and a rumbling in her stomach. She felt more rested than she had for days, and her connection to the magic was stronger than she would have liked to admit. She stretched before the memory kicked back in her head. She dry heaved, almost falling to the floor before she caught herself on the wall. She hated this. The feeling of absolute powerlessness. Without Gerald… She cursed herself. "Dryassiad would be disgusted with you." She muttered out loud. "Killing… then thanking… One of his kind." She kicked the wall in disgust. "I best pray for forgiveness when I can, if that fool will let me."
She walked down the stairs and looked at the house. It was a standard dwelling, with a large central room, the door to the outside, and the fireplace in the corner. Lydia hated the thought that this home had belonged to someone not very long ago. Her mind was torn on the subject. She looked around and found the cupboard with a set of large bowls and what appeared to be some freshly cut vegetables. 'A Druid's house.' She thought, grabbing the lettuce, some cucumbers, and some carrots. She found a small well behind the house and after testing it (using magic) used it to clean the vegetables and began picking apart a salad for herself. She ate in silence, desperately attempting to avoid her thoughts. The setting sun did little to help her with that, however. Neither did the skeleton who walked in and nodded to her before talking.
"Lady Lydia, Master Gerald has asked that you not leave this house for the night."
"And why is that?"
The skeleton turned its head and it responded. "He says that you will need more time to heal up. That taking a life is a hard thing on the soul, and that you should come to terms with that fact. I am to be your personal guard, and if you wish to leave for whatever reason, you should clear it with me."
"And… and what should I call you?"
At this, the skeleton seemed almost puzzled. (If it could have had a face to make, it would have looked confused) "I'm afraid that my name has been lost to time." It responded.
"What would you like to be called?"
At this the skeleton stood a little taller. "I believe… Politathius is a good name."
Lydia looked at it. "It seems I have an awful lot to learn…"
"All mortals do." The skeleton replied. It looked at her, and it unnerved her how it didn't blink or have anything to say what it was thinking. Nothing more was said for the time being, and Lydia ate her salad in silence. How she kept it down was beyond her reckoning. The lettuce was fresh, but it tasted of artificial growth and magical influence to keep it from aging and spoiling. She kept it down, and looked around as the sun almost finished its descent over the horizon. "Hey… Poli… um…"
"Politathius." It responded patiently.
"Right… Listen… Can I call you Poli? It would make it easier for me."
"I don't see a problem with that." It responded.
"Fine… Well, is there a bathhouse or a place where I could get a bath?"
"Yes miss, though I suggest waiting until the morning when someone would be able to get you some fresh hot water. A bath would be pretty cold tonight." The skeleton looked to the horizon. "The army is on the move and you'll soon hear the sounds of battle."
"Could I… could I go to the wall?"
It turned back. "Why would you want to go to the wall? That seems like it would put you in unnecessary danger."
"Perhaps. But I… I have to see this. I have to see what happens."
"You won't like what you see."
"I don't care. I…"
"Very well." Poli helped Lydia quickly clean the dishes, just the bowl and a fork, and then quietly led her through the lengthening shadows towards the stone wall, where the condemned were soon to die…