Evil Reincarnated

A Dark Art

Mazavir POV

"Ezara, I got to thinking." I state nervously, not looking at the warrior of a woman sitting next to me.

"Thinking about what?" She asks. I could feel her eyes on me, like they could see right through me. It wasn't a big thing, it's not like I was going to confess my love to her. I liked her, but if we have something between us, it's unspoken.

"About Lyzla's scythe." I state. I could feel the heavy weapon weighing me down. That's why I always set it down when I was sitting down or not needing to carry it. "Why would she have the weapon of a Necromancer?"

Ezara just shrugs. "I've seen a lot of people that carry weapons like that. I knew all sorts of people from different origins who carried weapons and items of a culture they weren't a part of. Perhaps that's what Lyzla did."

"I'm sure if she was a necromancer, I would've known. She knew I hated them... and for good reason. She never once told me that necromancers weren't bad, or that she agreed with what they did. She never said much about them." I look over at Ezara. Her brow was furrowed as she thought.

"Did she use the scythe often?"

I shake my head. "It always just sat in her room, gathering dust. She never used it. She never even took it from its spot. The only time I ever saw her use it was the day Lilith came. She wielded it like it was a part of her, not a weapon. I only took it because that was the only thing left of our home... of her."

Ezara just sits there in silence. I could tell she had so much to say but she didn't want to say it. "Should we train more?" I break the silence.

"Yeah, probably. The faster you learn, the better we'll do against Lilith. Let's go." I stand just as the doors to the tavern opens. A man stumbles through, he dark hair in his face and blood covering his armor. He looks up sharply, his hair gets thrown out of his face. His eyes were wide and blood covers his face. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth. It looked like he had tried to wipe it away. His wide eyes search the room, landing on Ezara and I.

He opens his mouth to say something, but fails. His eyes roll up in his head and he falls to the ground with a thud. The room was still and silent. The only sound was his body hitting the floor.

Ezara springs into action, running towards the fallen man. She rolls him into his back. He was out cold. She moves his hair so we can get a closer look at his face. I gasp when I realize who it is.

"Vexel?" I state. I stand there, frozen. I didn't know what I should do.

Ezara knew though. She tore a piece of cloth from his armor, holding it over a wound in his chest. "Quick," she says, looking at me. "We've got to get him to a healer."

Still, I stood there frozen. How could this have happened to him? I've seen him almost die, his wounds healed themselves. He always seemed immortal after that, like no one could touch him. Even if they did, he would kill them before he died.

Ezara curses under her breath, removing the cloth. She starts taking off his armor. Revealing his bare chest, I could see a deep scratch wound across his chest and what seemed to be a stab wound in his gut. Both wounds were still oozing dark red blood.

Ezara holds her hands above the wound. At first it seemed to do nothing, but after a few moments, I watched the wound stitch itself back together.

Ezara glares at me. She stands once his wounds were fully healed, however he wasn't moving.  Blood still covered his bare chest and his face. He didn't stand up and walk out of the place like I expected he would. He just laid there. He seemed like one of the corpses he would animate, all pale and dead looking. He was already pale, but it was as if the little bit of color in his skin had been drained out. I could see the veins under his skin, struggling to pump blood to his entire body. It was strange, I had never seen someone this close to death. He was standing at the edge, as if he could fall over and die at any second.