[hider=The Necromancer returns]
Dravala watched as the waves below her crashed upon the hard stone cliffs. She was perched atop the branch of an oak tree that stood atop the peak of the cliff, it’s roots desperately clinging to the side of the cliff least it collapse into the sea below. Even from up here Dravala could feel the water spray against her feathers. After her feelings for Lanaya were rejected Dravala made no hesitation in heading to Akki to join the infamous Ashfall cult. All her life Dravala had heard stories of Mother Ashwood and her dark cult of mages. Alenius was full of tall tales and legends of the immortal necromancer and the dark rituals she performed. It wasn’t until she trained at the circle that she learnt that the stories might have had more truth to them than she first thought. Every now and then she would hear stories of rogue mages who travelled to Akki to find this cult. Normally they would be caught before they even lay foot on Akki soil. But sometimes they would go missing without any trace, with the magisters concluding that they must have indeed found the cult and potentially become members, or sacrifices.

Dravala had spent months flying around Akki, stopping at the backwater towns and villages that scattered the kingdom in search of any rumours that led her to the mysterious cult. In the end it was the cult who found her. One night when she was camping outside of a town called Rumshore and group of cultists had tried to sneak up on her when they should she was sleeping. She had immediately transformed into a bear and almost clawed out the heart of the first cultist who approached her. Once she realized who they were she transformed back much to the relief of the terrified cultists. It turns out that her months of searching and questioning had caught the eyes of the cultist members who had proceeded to seek her out. After presenting her skill in shapeshifting to mother Ashwood she was immediately inducted into the cult without hesitation. The fact she was a member of house Blackwell had seemingly also improved Ashwoods attitude towards her.

During her search she had to be careful that she transformed out of sight though; now that her family ruled Akki she didn’t want word getting to Eli that a shapeshifter was travelling around Akki searching for the Ashfall cult. Though part of her wondered if he would even bother sending people after her. Did he care about her anymore, did anyone in her family? Regardless she had failed to protect Naomi, failed to save Beatrice, it was now her duty to ensure she could defend those of house Blackwell who remained. That was why she was here in the first place, to learn new ways to keep her family alive and repair whatever damage her enemies might do to them. She had already learnt so much.

Just then the silhouette of a bird against the sun caught her attention. Upon closer inspection the shape of the bird confused her. Though her confusion soon changed to horror at it drew closer. The bird itself was massive, with a wingspan of around 15 meters. Only the great eagles of Deliverance were said to reach this size and they had been extinct for centuries. Upon the eagle’s back rode a man, hooded in a black cloak who flew the eagle straight towards the cliff. The entrance to the cult’s sanctum was built into the side of the cliff face beneath a waterfall. A narrow ridge, marked by the oak tree, was the only passageway in or out of the cliff, unless like Drevala one could fly of course. Unless one knew of the entrance it would be near impossible for one to find it. Yet this traveller flew directly through the waterfall into the sanctum. Whoever this was they had been here before. Drevala decided her time for reflecting on the past was over, it was time for her to investigate who this mysterious stranger and whether he was a threat.

***

The body on the table opened its eyes. Its face twitching as the eyes roamed around the room. They met Matai’s, and for half a second, he could see confusion in them. Then the light faded and its face went slack. It sat up stiffly, the false life in it attempting to overtake the rigor mortis that had started to set in. With a sigh, Matai waved his hand, the body on his table fell back. It made no sense. [i]He[/i] had been aware for far longer than that, and Matai had been years younger and less experienced.

Matai paced around the room, his hand covering his mouth as he thought. His experiments have turned up nothing. The imitation of life that Necromancy creates is inefficient. They could follow simple commands, but self-awareness was just out of grasp. There was [i]something[/i] there. If only-

The sound of hurried footsteps down the hall outside his room snapped him out of his thoughts. Matai stopped pacing and opened the door. Two guards were making their way in the direction of the entrance. He caught whispers of someone finding their way into the sanctum without having been led there by one of the cult members.

“Well, this is interesting.” Matai looked back to the man in a suit of armor sitting on a chair in his lab. “What do you think, Erick, should we take a look?” The helmeted man uncrossed his arms and stood up without speaking. “My thoughts exactly,” Matai said under his breath as he opened the door and followed the men. Erick following behind silently.

***

Zilak entered through the waterfall, barely noticing the cold water against his rotting skin. Even after all these decades the cave looked the same, with barely any changes from when he last left. A fact that disappointed him. Numerous cultists emerged from the stone passageways that led to the entrance, all on guard with weapons or undead warriors. Zilak almost scoffed at the shameful display. One man emerged from the crowd; unlike the others he was tall and muscular, summoning at least ten undead. An impressive feat, for an average necromancer that was. His name was Janusz and was Ashwood’s second in command.

“Who are you” He spoke firmly “How did you find the entrance to our cave. Speak! Or I will have our undead warriors tear you apart”. Zialk was not intimidated.

“My name is Zilak, or you might know me as Father Cio, I have business with Mother Ashwood, take me to her”. While Janusz remain unfazed, the cultists around him all started to murmur. They had all heard of Father Cio; the Necromancer who had first started the cult over a century ago and taught Mother Ashwood everything she knew. For years Ashwood had foretold of his reappearance. Though no one believed her. Even more impressive was that this man was riding an undead eagle, one that was bigger than a horse. To summon such a creature, was a tremendous sign of his skill.

***
Matai had to stand on his tiptoes to try and get a look at the man who had entered, but the heads of the crowd in front of him blocked his sight. For a moment, he thought about pushing his way to the front but decided against it. Soon, whispers rippled through the crowd. Supposedly, the man causing this commotion was [i]the Father Cio.[/i] Now [i]that[/i] was worth the break from his experiments. 

Mother Ashwood was paranoid about everything, but Matai never thought that the Necromancer that taught Mother Ashwood coming back to the cult was real when all she was was a set-piece. 

“Things are getting interesting,” he whispered to Erick, who as usual, made no response.

“You claim to be father Cio, but give us no reason to believe you” Janusz replied sternly. To this Zilak just sighed, 

“If you prefer I could just kill all of you and be on my way. But I would prefer not to waste such ‘gifted’ necromancers. Or you could just take me to mother Ashwood and she can prove who I am”.

Janusz did not believe for a second that Zilak was capable of killing them all, despite the stories Mother Ashwood had told. However if this man was father Cio and they killed him, Ashwood would not be happy. Even if he wasn’t Cio Ashwood would not be happy that they potentially could have killed the man who’s return she had been waiting for over a century. “Very well, follow me. It should be fun to watch Ashwood rip your flesh from your bones”. Zilak dismounted his undead bird and followed Janusz into the caves, with numerous cultists following behind. Unbeknown to him a raven had flown through the waterfall and into the cave. Drevela quickly transformed and landed next to Matai.

“So who’s this?'' she said playfully, hoping her sudden transformation might scare him.

Matai shot a glance at Drevela. If this hadn’t been the fifth or sixth time Drevela had seemingly targeted him for a scare he would’ve jumped more than a flinch and reacted to her post-transformation lack of clothes with more than the tips of his ears turned red. It didn’t bug him much, though. In fact, It was refreshing to have an upbeat personality in the macabre cult of Necromancers. He had managed to get her back for her first scare, though. Perhaps that was why she tried to scare him every possible chance.

“That man claims to be Father Cio.” He jerked his head towards another passageway. “I know a shortcut so we can get a better view of what’s going to happen. Janusz will probably lead him the long way to her so she can be alerted to his presence here.”

Drevela followed Matai through the passway, transforming herself into a wolf so that she would have an easier time travelling through the low ceiling of the passageway. After making their way through several branching passageways they reached an opening overlooking the hideouts core chamber. The floor was made of cold stone and the walls of earth and roots, with four crumbling pillars at each corner. Pits lay at the sides of the room filled with skeletal remains to the point of overflowing. On the far end sat the crippled Mother Ashwood atop a throne weaved from tree roots. From what Drevela had been told she had not moved from that throne in over a decade and the roots that made the throne had started to weave around her and even into her skin. As always her rotting face was hidden by a moldy cowl with only her decomposing hands showing, with many of her fingers having long fallen off. Next to her stood a gaunt, pale woman known as Elm. She was an unpleasant woman who had been in the cult longer than anyone else, with the exception of Ashwood herself. She was always found at Ashwoods side and the only person other than Janusz that she trusted. Though Janusz, Zilak and the others had yet to arrive it was clear Janusz had sent a runner to inform Ashwood of her former masters arrival. She had already summoned thirty skeletal undead, powerful display of her necromancer’s power, though Drevala knew that this was only half the undead she could summon. No doubt Ashwood was the most powerful necromancer currently alive in Formaroth. The door to the room opened slowly, creaking as the aging doors struggled to open. The first to enter the room was Janusz followed by Zilak. Behind them the other cultists sheepishly walked in; many of them still unnerved to be in the presence of Ashwood. 

Janusz walked forward and knelt before Ashwood "My mistress, this traveler claims to be -" he was soon cut off by Zilak who rather then wait behind Janusz had continued to keep walking 

“It has been a long time my dear Ashwood” He said almost mockingly, only stopping to walk once Ashwood’s skeleton warriors pointed their chipped spears towards his neck. Janusz was visibly annoyed by what had just happened but knew better than to make a scene in front of Ashwood, instead choosing to stand up and keep alert to any plans that this Zilak might be planning. Ashwood leaned over to Elm and began to whisper in her ear. At this point Ashwood was barely able to speak and required Elm to listen closely to her muffled words and relay them to the rest of the cult. Soon Elm replied in her typicalically high and piecing voice

“Mistress Ashwood demands to know why you have returned to her sanctuary” She said looking at Zilak with venomous intent.

“Your sanctuary”? Zilak laughed “My dear Ashwood, if I remember correctly, I told you that I always intended to return. The fact you have made such a fuss over my arrival must mean you knew it to be true” he said with a smile. Elm’s look turned venomous. 

“Speak more softly if you value your life” she hissed. Though the warning did not perturb Zilak

“I am happy to see that you have looked after my little cult. But I have now come to take back what is mine. I am sure you have no objections” He said with a sly smile, murmurs coming from the cultists behind him. Janusz gave a cold laugh, it would seem he would get his wish and watch this arrogant man be slowly torn apart. Once again mother Ashwood leaned over to Elm, whispering in her ear.

“Ashwood rightly states that you have long since abandoned this cult, this sanctuary is rightfully hers and you are nothing more than a unwelcomed guest”. Elm replied smugly 

“This has always been my sanctuary, and you nothing more than a caretaker”. At this fury flooded Elm’s and Janusz faces. 

“HOW DARE YOU” Elm exploded, not noticing Ashwood’s feeble attempt to calm her

“Mind your tongue outsider” Janusz said sternly. Despite the ferocity of their words Zilak ignored them, he had not come all this way to deal with Ashwood pathetic servants

“Look at you, you truly believe yourself to be my successor? You are a husk of a once great woman, who like this cult you have allowed to wither and stagnate”.

“SILENT” Elm yelled. Zilak continued, growing increasingly annoyed by Elm’s interruptions

“I had such plans for you, I had once hoped you would stand by my side once I took the throne of Formaroth and name myself the undead king. But look at you a cripple who hides from the world, quivering at the return of her old”.

“I SAID SILENCE” Elm continued to yell now hysterical. Zilak had had enough of this woman. In the blink of an eye Zilak used his magic to lift a broken shade of bone from one of the pits and sent it flying through the air towards Elm. The shade impaled her straight through the eye killing her instantly, at the same time he let loose a shock wave that instantly immobilized all thirty of Ashwoods Skeletal warriors, scattering their bone’s and weapons across the room. After he processed what had just happened Janusz immediately prepared to attack, casting fire from his hands towards Zilak. With barely even a flick of his fingers Zilak transformed the fire into lightning, redirecting it back at Janusz and instantly incinerating him and five other cultists who had run forward to help him. The rest of the cult stood dumbfounded at the power they had just witnessed. Both Janusz and Elm were considered to be as powerful as circle magister’s and this man had killed them as if they were nothing.

Matai’s eyebrows shot up at the display of power from the newcomer. “Well, I guess that leads credence to him being Father Cio,” he whispered with a glance to Drevala. “They either underestimated him, or overestimated their own power. Perhaps both.” A thought struck him, and he scratched his chin idly. “I had been wanting to try my experiment with a strong-willed corpse. Perhaps one of them would suffice.” 

He turned to Drevala “My money is on this cult getting a new leader.”
Drevala gave a low growl at Matai. While he was seemingly more concerned with his experiments, Drevala was shaken. She had trained at the circle and was certain that not even the high magisters could achieve what this Zilak had done with such ease. Such power shouldn’t have been humanly possible. She watched as Zilak walked towards Ashwood,

“As you can see I have grown far stronger over the past decades. You were right to fear my return” He said with sheer glee in his voice. It was then Ashwood finally started to move, her face seemed to be uncaring of what had just happened, though it was difficult to read considering it looked more natural on a corpse. Then something happened which surprised Drevala even more than Zilak’s display of power; Ashwood spoke.

“I am not surprised that you have grown in strength, my old mentor” She said, her voice was almost a groan and barely audible, as if every word she spoke caused her great pain. But behind her old ancient voice could be heard a mocking tone. “However I did not fear your return, I was hoping for it”. She replied with a toothless smile as she raised her deteriorating hands. A stream of blue light shot towards Zilak who tried to counter it with a magical barrier, only for it to pierce straight through and hit him in the heart. He fell to the ground with a groan, the steady blue stream of light now flowing back towards Ashwood. “I have been preparing for you ever since you left and now you return to me with even more power than I could ever have hoped for” Soon Zilak’s already rotting body started to deteriorate further and the once disabled and withered Ashwood stood up with her wounds and rotting flesh healing. “I have waited so long for this, finally I will have the power you hoarded for yourself all these years” Her apparent joy was soon cut off by a cruel laugh from Zilak, who after initially collapsing to the floor had stood up now unaffected by Ashwood’s spell.

“I am impressed you were able to discover the secrets to such magic, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, you were once my student. Unfortunate for you then, that I mastered such magic decades ago”. It was only then to Ashwood's horror that she realised that the stream of light had been reserved and her body was once again decomposing. She tried to disengage the spell but it was of no use, Zilak was in control now. “WAIT PLEASE” she managed to cry out as her body deteriorated to a state worse then before and continued to worsen. Eventually her limbs began to crumble and Ashwood opened her mouth to scream, but there was no sound, only dust. The dust that was once comprised Ashwood’s body scattered, the magical light faded and where the once decrepit and rotten Zilak stood, now stood a youthful and healthy man. 

“Now [i]that[/i] was a neat trick, must be great for the skin.” Matai muttered under his breath before he chuckled, shaking his head. He turned to Drevala. “ I want to make sure that Elm doesn’t get taken away before I can run my experiment. Are you coming along?” Matai didn’t even wait for a response before dropping down from their hiding spot. He made his way to the crowd, pushing his way through the horror-struck and fearful cultists to the front of the crowd.

“It seems that Mother Ashwood’s paranoia wasn’t unfounded.” Matai bowed his head as he spoke to Zilak. “This place is yours now, right? So I would assume that you would be who I would ask to make use of Elm?” He asked as he pointed towards the corpse of Mother Ashwood’s advisor. 

Zilak initially ignored Matai’s question, taken aback by his reborn body. If he remembered how good it felt to be young, he would have left Deliverance years ago if only to drain the life of another. He turned to Matai. He was different compared to the other cultists, not fearful like those in the crowd and yet not as zealous as the cultists he had just incinerated. Perhaps he could make a useful pawn.

“Finally, I receive some respect. What is it you desire to do with her body”?

“I’m trying to recreate an event that happened, what was it, twelve years ago. I was attacked and my guard died protecting me. We were found by the cult. I was nearly unconscious and my guard spoke to them before he died, [i]again.[/i]” Matai started to pace as he talked. 

“I would have chalked it up to my imagination, but I was [i]very[/i] familiar with death even before I ended up joining the cult. There was one more bandit left, gravely injured but he had enough strength and anger to make his way over to us. Terror had me grasping for something, anything to…” Matai stopped pacing. He looked at the spot where Mother Ashwood had turned to dust, then to Zilak. 

Until this day, Matai hadn’t even given thought that what happened between Zilak and Mother Ashwood was possible. “You-” Matai began, but stopped with a cough, his mouth had gone dry. “You looked like you recovered three or four decades from Mother Ashwood. Can...can I take six months from you.” Matai had made his way to Elm’s side. He knelt beside her and held one hand over her body. The other he held out in Zilak’s direction in a clawed position. “I’m pretty sure you can stop a mid-level Necromancer from taking too much.” 

Zilak considered Matai’s proposal. Giving Matai six months worth of magical energy wasn’t a problem, he could give him a decade and it still wouldn’t matter. Zilak could easily extract the life force from any wandering peasant if he needed to. Besides he had perfected the art of necromancy and his body was now unfettered by the decay of time. However he didn’t know if he could trust this man or his intentions. Though what he said was right; his power wasn’t even a quarter of Ashwoods, if he tried anything Zilak would be able to stop him. Furthermore, giving him what he wanted now could be a good step to obtaining a loyal servant. 

“Very well, I shall give you the magical power you need. Let us hope it doesn’t mutate you” he said with a laugh. As Matai readied himself Zilak raised his arms and cast the same spell that Ashwood had cast on him on Matai; not even waiting to ask if he was ready. Power flowed through Matai as he focused all his energy on the deceased body of Elm. First her hands started to twitch then her head, then her whole body. Eventually the eye that hadn’t been impaled shot open, full of sheer terror.

“WHAT HAPPENED” she shrieked, unable to comprehend what had happened “WHERE….MOTHER ASHWOOD HELP ME” She said in one finial yell of fear before the life drained from her in an instant causing her to slump back down. 

The silence in the chamber lasted for several seconds before a chuckle forced its way out of Matai’s mouth. Twelve years. Twelve years he had been trying to recreate his rescue. It hadn’t been his guard at all that killed the last bandit, it had been him. The chuckles continued, gaining strength before they turned into cackles. 

His body was almost on fire with the energy he had been given. He had spent most of it on Elm, just using his body as a conduit for the power, but some had still absorbed into his body. It was intoxicating. A fraction of what he was given and he felt so powerful.

It was too much. The rational side of his mind broke through the haze and his laughter stopped. He held his hand out to Elm, forcing his power into her again, but this time just as he was trained to. Listlessly, she rose from her position on the ground. That had taken most of the extra power, but not enough. He reached his hand out to one of the many skeletons that rested around the room and slowly they started gathering together to form a body. 

Halfway through the forming, he had used most of the power, so he released his hold on the skeleton and Elm. Bones scattered to the floor and Elm crumpled to the ground. By the time everything had settled down, Matai was panting heavily. 

“My...experiment is complete.” He managed to say between his ragged breaths. “My... hypothesis that the dead... can retain their consciousness for at least a little while has been proven true.” He swayed from side to side for a second before deciding to sit down. “My next step will be to determine the exchange rate from life taken to how long the consciousness lasts.” His vision started creep towards the center of his vision. “This could be a great step towards reducing the stigma around Necromancy and be a way to offer our services in a way to bring closure to families of lost ones. I’ll be sure to draft up the-” Matai’s eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness, falling backwards onto the cold ground next Elm.

Zilak was impressed with what Matai had done, though had little interest in his apparent motives. Still he was a skilled necromancer and would serve him well.

“Take him away and see to it that he recovers” Zilak said as he waved his hand at the other cultists, none of whom moved still fearful of their new leader. Zilak snapped his head around “Now” he commanded as a few cultists snapped out of their fear and ran forward to carry Matai away to the healing chamber. As they did Zilak walked toward the crowd behind him who quickly parted to let him through. “The rest of you prepare to leave by tomorrow evening we have a lot of distance to cover and not much time. Mummers erupted amongst the cultists

“What do you mean, where are we going?” One cultist asked, immediately shrinking back as Zilak looked at her. 

“To Alenius, I will discuss my plan as we travel, but for now you do as I command. Pack everything that is essential. It is time my cult left this sad little sanctuary” he said as he left the room.

Upon the mention of Alenius Drevala’s ears pricked up and her heart filled with dread. She didn’t know what this man’s intentions for her homeland were but she was certain that they were not good. She needed to leave the sanctuary and warn her family and she needed to leave now; it wouldn’t be long before one of the cultists plucked up the courage to tell Zilak that the daughter of Giles Blackwell was here. Besides, she had already achieved her purpose of coming here.

[/hider]

By [@TheDuncanMorgan] and [@Konan375]