The two bodies lay on the floor, the latter's shocked expression was forever memorialized by the immobility of death. Their white robes lay tarnished and burned by the intensity of the attacks that struck them down.
"Whoever has done this, was no amateur. These burns are not the result of any spell we teach here at the academy."
The dean stared down, seemingly unable to comprehend that someone had taken an act of aggression against the institution he held so dear.
As a guard reached down to transport the bodies to the morgue, the robes of the fallen crumbled in his hands. They had been charred to the point of material failure, and it had become evident that the spells used against the ill-fated mages were much more powerful than expected.
Kaeman ran quickly through the wilderness, clutching the book he had stolen tightly in his arms. Tears ran down his face as the reality of what he had just done dawned on him. He had killed 2 people. His friends. His former classmates. He fell to the ground in anguish, knowing he had begun down a path that held nothing but sorrow.
But he had to. He had to get her back. Slowly, he rose again, now walking with vigor, reminded of his purpose. At a remote point in the woods, he opened his newly acquired tome and began flipping through the pages.
Slowly but surely, Kaeman began to smile. This is what he was looking for. The language of the gods. Each rune on these pages was a building block for a countless number of spells ready to be used. All they needed was someone brave enough to do it.
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Withering Ambition
FanfictionThe story of the rises and falls of the Wither King, Kaeman, and his circle of Necromancers. Starting from a lust for vengence for the death of his daughter, Kaeman's ambition quickly outgrew itself, becoming a quest for the retribution of all who h...
