Undead Mage

Prologue- Death

Frantic panting and uneven steps were the only sounds heard that still night. A girl limped through the cold forest, a trail of blood following them. While running, she swiped her hand up, an earthen wall blocking behind them.

With a boom, vermillion colored the area as fire heated the air. The recently made wall shattered under the torrent. Running through the flame was another figure clad in all black.

A game of cat and mouse played out in the forest. Every blast of rushing fire would be met with a wall of some kind. Every wall was weaker than the last, giving hint of the mouse's deteriorating condition.

"You can't run forever hero! You'll just die tired!" The voice, muffled by the mask they're wearing, called out.

Not wasting breath on the snidey remark she thought of, the hero kept running. Using magic to her best, wall after wall rose from the ground in an effort to keep the blasts of flame launched at her. 

The two twisted around trees, jumped over pits, and crossed small creeks. The girl ran until she could run no more, a massive ravine ahead and mana reserves almost dry. 

"F-finally done, nowhere else to run? All you had to do was listen, and you would have been killed with your reputation intact. Now your story will be whatever they decide it to be." The muffled voice mocked as they prepared their last spell.

Sighing, the hero didn't resist. Not even as the arrow of fire slammed into her and tore through her chest. Didn't try to hold herself up as her body teetered forward, falling down into the abyss-like chasm. Barely winced as the adrenaline wore off and the agonizing pain of the scorched hole in her body arose. 

Her eyes were staring at the mark on her arm. A singular pike with a skull on it, the eyes glowing a deathly pale. All because of this mark, no, she couldn't blame it on the mark. All because she looked too far into the unknown. Everyone turned on her the second they spotted the mark...

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5 days ago(The discovery) 

Books and papers were strewn over the room, covering desks and the floor. The only clear desk was being used by the person hunched over it. Messy black hair hung down to the person's waist, fading to a frosty purple. She wore normal cloth with pieces of dark-leather armor covering vital places on their body. 

The harsh sound of charcoal scratches mixed with the sound of calm humming created a weird harmony in the room. The charcoal moved across the pages of paper at a speed too fast for a normal person to keep up. 

Runes were left behind whenever the charcoal passed by, whispers echoing from the corners of the room. Discarded books and papers started floating, as if gravity itself gave up, once the whispering grew.

Ignoring the phenomenon, the girl wrote rune after rune. Even when the room started shaking, and the runes when from the charcoal's black to an angry red, the writer still produced more runes. Only when the runes shifted to a pale gray color did the girl's eyebrows rise.