Malthrom made his way to the edge of his burgeoning army and looked them over. Most of them could still move their eyes, as the control of the Syclardii was not dependent on them being able to see, and all of those he glanced at looked away.
Save one.
The necromancer approached the mess of a man, slack jawed and hollow eyed. He was covered in blood, his clothing was crusted in the stuff and he also sported pieces of flesh here and there, glued to him with blood like some heinous ornamentations.
Malthrom knew this must have been one of the few the Syclardii had used to slaughter the others, snapping his mind in the process.
From the stench coming off him, both his bladder and bowels had given out and there was little chance he would last much longer. His body would suffer infection which might spread through the rest of this army, killing more.
Malthrom reached out and brushed his fingertips across Derolano's head, his gentle touch ripping the soul from within his body, which immediately collapsed to the ground.
Without pause, Malthrom turned and made his way back to his pavilion, a light snack and some sleep should give the Syclardii enough time to feed and water the rest of his army before they began the northward march towards the Rothmury kingdom and his long overdue family reunion.
***
Dumar took a deep, hitching breath in as he finished relating what he had done to Smitty. Unwilling to cry before this stranger, the big man concentrated on getting his emotions under control.
Calming his breathing, he looked towards the spindly old man who had come here with him, Narami had a small smile on his ageing face.
"Did that make you happy then?" Dumar asked acidly.
The old churchman shook his head with a frown.
"Of course not, my son. I was simply thinking how fortunate we are to have you here with us. What you did for your friend was the most compassionate thing you could have done."
Dumar's eyes snapped to Narami's face, searching for any sign he was being made fun of. He found none.
"I wish to ask a favour of you also," Narami continued. "If, for any reason, you discover me in a similar situation to your friend, do for me as you did for him."
Dumar carried on looking at the old man, whose face became blurry.
"Why?" He asked in a choked voice.
"Dawa teaches us all life is sacred. However he also teaches the relieving of suffering is a noble and virtuous occupation. Even though you chose to end the life of your friend, it was a compassionate act and one which saved him Dawa knows how many hours of agony.
"I also believe he knows the sacrifice you made for him, when you broke your self imposed vow to never kill," the Polstice offered a benign smile. "I never had the pleasure of meeting this Smitty you called friend, however I am sure he feels pride in his soul for what you did for him."
Dumar sniffed and chuckled a little.
"Smitty was a lot of things but a pleasure to meet? Even I wouldn't say that," Dumar became more serious. "What does your Dawa say about people who kill themselves?"
"That they are horribly tormented by life," the old churchman responded. "Is this the cause of the darkness on your soul?" Dumar shrugged.
"Who knows?" He asked in return. "I'd just ended Smitty's life and every thought I had told me McCabe would manage, somehow, to make me do it to someone else.
"It wouldn't stop, he'd never stop. Unless I was dead," Dumar gulped down a hitching breath and looked out over the placid lake water. "So..." He added.
The Polstice seemed to be in deep thought.
"If you believe that ending your previous existence really saved the lives of other people there, I truly believe this is why Dawa has given you a second life here."
"To make up for all the bad shit I've done? Make me pay?" Dumar asked bitterly.
Narami shook his head.
"There is no vengeance involved, no bills to settle. Dawa sees the good and bad in all. Perhaps He sees this extra lifetime as a reward for what you have been forced to tolerate in the previous one."
"Bloody weird reward!" Dumar chuckled.
Narami smiled.
"Your soul has lightened a little," He said. "I think you are going to thrive here."
Dumar shook his head.
"I don't think I'm ever gonna to get used to you telling me you can see my soul," he said with a half smile on his face.
"I truly hope that will be the hardest thing you must adapt to, Dumar," the churchman had a concerned look on his face.
"Why?" Dumar wondered.
The old man took a deep breath and began to speak when the world stilled to complete silence.
The surface of the lake set like a sheet of glass. Not a breath of wind stirred the long grass or the reeds bordering the water. None of the bird chatter that they had heard up until that point could be detected.
Dumar swivelled his head around, looking for something, anything, out of the ordinary.
Apart from the two guards, who were as motionless as statues, there was nothing he could see. A glance at the Polstice Narami was a great deal more revealing however.
The old churchman had risen to his feet and was staring at the water with something like ecstasy on his old face. The effect made him look years younger even though he was nearly staggering towards the lake.
Dumar followed to make sure the old man did not fall in and to see what he was looking at. Narami dropped to his knees at the water's edge and spread his arms wide in the anticipation of something.
Dumar looked out at the water again to see a section had bulged upwards about ten feet from where he stood. As slow as a snail moving, the water continued to rise up, growing into a column. A rounded section appeared at the apex and the entire thing began to take on an almost human look. A sinking, sick feeling grew in the pit of Dumar's stomach.
What the hell's this now?
At about seven feet, the human shape rapidly took on more features which made it recognisable as something that looked like a man.
Glancing down at Narami, Dumar saw tears running down the old man's cheeks although he had a wide smile on his face and was still open armed.
Looking back again, Dumar saw the upper body had been defined, chest, arms, shoulders and even a muscular neck had been formed from the clear lake water.
Dumar frowned as he noticed a flash of silver, a fish, swimming lazily around inside the torso of whatever this was. The big man swallowed as the legs and feet of this giant man took on definition, still made of water.
What power, what thing, could manipulate gallons of heavy water as easily as this? Was it Malthrom, come to attack him? Dumar doubted it as the Polstice looked to be overjoyed to welcome this giant.
The great head was the last section to fully form and Dumar watched in awe as curls grew from the main head, yellowish water swirling and twisting to become individual strands of hair. His nose pushed outward, at once noble and classic in form, a jaw squared off and lips swirled into existence.
Once the huge being had fully formed, the water making up its body started to change colour, darkening to become an all covering black robe with deep crimson trim around the edges. A heavy cowl grew at the back of the collar and Dumar noted this too was lined in the dark red material.
Bare footed, the large man-shaped thing strode across the surface of the lake towards Narami. Dumar was about to move in front of the old man, to protect him, when the cloaked figure glanced at him.
As if seeing them for the first time, Dumar realised the creature's eyes were like liquid silver, without pupils and like nothing he had seen before. A flash of uncertainty rippled through him, precursor to fear.
Is it some kind of machine? He wondered. What's it gonna do to Narami?
Dumar had no idea but in the same instant the humanoid glanced at him, he found himself rooted to the spot. None of his muscles would obey him.
The giant reached the shoreline before the now prostrate Polstice whose ancient forehead was buried in the grass.