In a small yet luxurious home, a lanky man looked rather uncomfortable as he explained the unusual situation to a middle-aged man sitting across from him. The man's glaring eyes bore holes into the lanky man. The lanky man hadn't expected to be able to meet this man, and now that he was, he really wished his expectations had been wrong.
The lanky man was the local graveyard keeper, a simple and rather undesirable trade, yet he quite enjoyed his work. On a typical day, all he had to do was manage the grounds and prepare the bodies for burial or, in some cases, cremation. Either way, he had always felt well-suited to this line of work since he never got along well with others. As a result, making a living by dealing with the dead was quite fitting for him.
Unfortunately, last night, something terrible had happened, and he had to report this ungodly occurrence. Eventually, his report landed on the desk of the man in front of him, the lord mayor Orvian. After providing a brief explanation, the lord mayor fell silent, glaring with murderous eyes.
The room they were in was Orvian's office, best described as minimalist. It was small, with only a desk, a few chairs, and a bureau. A single medium-sized window with long curtains at the center of the room provided some light to the otherwise dim space. Though tiny, every piece of furniture was of excellent quality, exuding a level of class unfamiliar to the shabby graveyard keeper.
The atmosphere in the room was tense. The nervous lanky man struggled to identify what might have offended the mayor. Was it his muddy clothes? His unkempt appearance? His manner of speaking? Whatever it was, he wished the lord mayor would just say something.
"So, you claim this... creature that was once Mr. Tomtron has not attempted to harm you, correct?" The serious man finally broke the silence.
"Um, yes, sir!" The nervous man replied, startled by the sudden question.
"Did you see any kind of magic being performed or notice any strange markings on the body before you began burying it?" Orvian asked calmly.
"What? No! Of course not. I've never seen anything like this in all my days!"
"I see. Can I assume the same is true for the creature that was once Mrs. Tomtron?"
"Like I said, I didn't see anything. One minute I was doing my job, getting the casket ready for the Mr. and Mrs., but then they stood up and tried to leave!" The gravedigger blurted out with surprising speed.
"And you've successfully trapped them?"
"Yes, sir. More out of luck than anything. They could have attacked me when I first saw them, but instead, they went straight for the door. I was so scared I ran and bolted the it shut. They don't seem strong enough to break it down."
"I see..." The lord mayor's voice trailed off, returning the room to its bleak silence. Orvian spent these moments of quiet contemplation grappling with the bizarre situation. The dead had risen, under normal circumstances, this would be the stuff of children's stories.
To his albeit limited knowledge, resurrection had been attempted by nearly every civilization throughout history, all with the same result: failure. The lapdogs of the Heavenly Mother, the Followers of the Betrayed, even their own nation had conducted research, and every attempt had ended in failure.
Suddenly, this man claimed the dead were moving. Preposterous. If his own assistant had not returned shaking with fear, Orvian would never have given the gravekeeper the time of day. This was not mere resurrection; these people were no longer what they once were. They had become monsters.
Two pressing questions emerged. First, how was this even possible? If he could discover how and perfect the method, then perhaps...
Second, who was responsible, and what was their objective? An old woman briefly came to mind, but he dismissed the thought. She lacked the power for this. Besides, if it didn't involve feathers, she likely had no interest.
To seek answers, he formulated a scheme. "Firstly, destroy one of the creatures and try to find anything of note. Secondly, release the survivor."
"What?! You can't be serious! I understand destroying the hellish thing, but letting it go? That thing is dangerous who knows what it will do?" The shabby gravedigger rose to his feet, yelling. How could the lord mayor propose something so reckless?
Orvian remained unfazed, explaining in the same patient tone a parent might use with a child. "You said it didn't attack you; instead, it tried to leave. The question is: where?"
The gravedigger understood but still disliked the plan. "And if it takes innocent lives? Does that factor into your grand plan?!"
"I will send someone to watch it and destroy it if necessary. You need not worry, this does not concern you."
The gravedigger felt slighted and threw a letter onto the desk from his dirty clothes. "This might change your mind!"
Orvian read the letter calmly, his only reaction a slight raise of his eyebrows. "Is this information accurate?"
"Who the hell would make that up? I know the man personally, he wouldn't joke about this! No one would..." The gravedigger spoke resolutely.
"Very well. Thank you for your time. You may leave. Please do as instructed before sundown." Orvian picked up a parchment and quill, dismissing the gravekeeper with his full attention on writing.
The graveyard keeper wanted to argue but knew it was pointless. Without another word, he left the office, escorted by two soldiers half for his safety, half to ensure he followed orders.
Orvian put down his quill and looked out the window, watching the gravekeeper leave. "Ensure the silence of that man. Then follow the creature he releases and eliminate it only if necessary. Report its destination."
Silence filled the room once more. Only the most observant would notice a shadow slipping behind the curtain and disappearing.