The Mask of the Necromancer

☠ CHAPTER 15 ☠

With her face now exposed, Erika opens her eyes, but she remains motionless, not making an attempt to move yet. She observes her surroundings with curiosity. Without uttering a word, she analyzes and wonders. Perhaps she ponders whether she's been captured by the enemy or returned to the palace. Waking up from death disorients her, leaving her oblivious to what has just transpired.

"Madam..." I call out to her, hoping she recognizes my voice.

"Eirin?" She utters my name with suspicion. "Where are we?"

"It's... complicated," I admit. "First and foremost, I assure you that we are not in immediate danger. I have a change of clothes for you, but before that, I need you to listen attentively. What I'm about to tell you won't be easy to digest."

Finally, Erika attempts to rise and realizes that her arms and legs are bound. She can't feel the restraints, further adding to her confusion. I'm familiar with the strange realization she's experiencing. "What's happening here?" She demands, assertive. Her strong demeanor still intimidates me, though I try to conceal it.

The necromancer sits at a distance, hidden in the shadows of the attic. Patiently observing, ready to intervene if necessary. He tends to a wound sustained while reviving the alvola, wrapping his hand with a damp cloth. Beside him, a vessel holds dark, bloody water.

"Madam, what is the last thing you remember?" I inquire.

"I do not know, I do not know. Does it matter? Tell me where I am and why I'm tied up. I can think of many possibilities, and none of them are pleasant. Have you betrayed us?"

"Not at all. Please, let me explain; I am convinced that all the ideas you have are incorrect. It's impossible for you to understand the truth, and I don't mean to insult your intellect, of course."

"Do you take me for an idiot? I am your superior, Eirin."

"I know, and out of respect for you, I'll allow you to share what you think happened."

The necromancer sighs almost inaudibly.

"We may have been captured by an enemy, or part of the army may have been insubordinate against me. Maybe you are on their side, or maybe you have been a victim of traitors, just like me." Érika pauses. "It is also possible that the king or the grand duke decided to finish me off in a subtle way so as not to cause a scandal. They have never liked me."

"None of that is true." I shake my head. "Madam, you have been dead for years. And so have I, though I'm unsure of the exact duration of that period. We have been revived by a necromancer..."

"Where is the damn sorcerer?" She interrupts, furious, and attempts to free herself. "Desecrating the dead is a crime. Eirin, why haven't you finished him off?"

"I can't, ma'am. We are his creations, and it's impossible for us to harm him. Besides..." I pause, "I believe we can trust him. You should first listen to his story and his goal."

"If I can't kill him, I will at least return you and me to eternal rest. Damn!"

I shake my head again. "Please, ma'am. Listen to us. Don't be stubborn."

"I'm not going to kneel in front of a sorcerer, much less a necromancer. No man other than the king has the right to order me around or choose for me." Erika is angry. "Where is that coward?"

"Here," Dhael responds as he stands up and approaches. "Welcome once again to the world of the living, Crimson Tempest."

She turns around and tries to spit at him. The distance between the two is too much for her to get it dirty. "Go to hell," Erika insults.

"In due time, I'm sure I will. For now, however, I need your cooperation."

"I refuse. I don't know what you expect from me, but you won't get it, sorcerer."

"Yes, I will get it," he mocks, haughtily. "By hook or by crook, you're going to help me. You have no choice; you are my puppet."

"Eirin, how did you bend to serve this monster?" The woman attacks me, attempting to headbutt me, and I barely manage to step back in time to avoid the collision.

"Listen to him, Erika," I ask again. "It is very possible that he is part of..."

"Be quiet!" The necromancer orders and my mouth suddenly closes, no more sounds comes out no matter how hard I try.

I turn towards him, dismayed. If my mentor knew that Dhael could be the true heir to the throne and that his goal is to change the kingdom... if she knew that he could offer her something in exchange for her help... "Why are you silencing me?" I want to know. I try to convey the question with my eyes. I am convinced that he is related, in one way or another, to the king.

"Only cowards hide behind masks," Erika insults again.

"It's true. I am a coward, I will not deny it." The necromancer speaks calmly. "I will come to light when the time is right."

"Monster."

"Shut up," he shouts to my mentor, making her temporarily mute. "Well, that's much better," Dhael jokes. "Listen to me, Crimson Tempest. I am going to finish off the grand duke, the next successor to the throne. Then I will revive him and handle him as I wish. He will be my puppet, and I will rule in his shadow for as long as it is prudent to do so. I will legalize the use of magic under certain restrictions, and I will restore the power that the kingdom has lost. I offer you the chance to lead an army alongside Eirin and the promise that, once I am on the throne, you can ask of me whatever you want, as long as it does not harm me." He pauses. "If you refuse, I will simply take away your will, and you too will be just a toy, a doll that does as you are told. I will humiliate you until the day I die; you will be aware of everything that happens, but you will not be able to do anything to prevent it. If I wanted, I could make you dance naked in the central square of the capital or preach psalms that glorify my presence." He takes a step forward. "Yes, I'm a monster, but I'm not the worst of them. Therefore, I give you a chance. The choice is yours, Érika Heirdar."

Without further ado, the necromancer snaps his fingers, and my mentor is knocked unconscious again. "Let's go, Eirin, we'll come back tomorrow to see what she has chosen. For now, follow me, let's go back to the cabin. I need your help in the basement."

"Dhael!" Finally, I can speak; I bring both hands to my neck, surprised.

"What's the matter?"

"Let me pose a question, master," I implore.

"Go ahead. Be brief."

"Have you lied to her or to me? I want to understand who you are and what your true intentions are. It's time to unravel these mysteries."

"Who knows?" he jests. "Leave the additional set of clothes on the chair. And hurry, we have much to accomplish. We'll discuss these matters at another time."

I realize that pressing further is futile, and there is no way to defy his commands, so I comply with what he has instructed. I am both confused and angered. Is Dhael truly the heir to the throne, or is he merely a criminal seeking power?

This is my favorite chapter 💚