The Necromancer

Chapter 8, Part 5

The field of bones stretched for miles around, punctuated only by the odd burning building every once and a while. Amcerlizar's army had been even larger than I'd thought; hundreds of thousands of thralls were stationed here, and they'd all collapsed with Amcerlizar's death. The few living members of his army had either fled in terror or were patiently waiting to grovel before my feet. I was the new Undead Heir, after all. Lord of the Blighted Lands. And I couldn't wait to get out.

Mog and I strode through the battlefield back toward the Summoning Pedestal. The skeletons underfoot caused my fingers to tingle, asking to be resurrected. Bony fingers still clutched their weapons, ready to serve in my undead army as they had done for so many Necromancer warlords before; most of them were hand-me-downs. Resurrecting them was certainly what everyone was expecting me to do; if he were here, my father would be screaming at me to bring the army back before the fleshy ones could decay.

Shadowy figures appeared on the crest of a nearby hill; the setting sun's light reflected off of their golden armor. Mog gave a cheerful grunt and waved heartily, forgetting the fearsome figure he struck with a rune drawn in blood across his massive chest. The Paladins ducked behind their shields and thrust their swords out in response. 

"I didn't think you'd actually come back." General Fleiros stepped forward from the crowd. His gleaming amor was now scuffed and scratched, revealing the dull steel underneath. The soldiers behind him weren't so lucky; most of them were spattered in blood that certainly didn't come from the skeletons. Nearly all of them had recently-healed wounds on their skin and scowls on their faces. 

"It's over," I announced, holding up the Dragonheart staff. "I've killed Amcerlizar."

There were scattered cheers from the soldiers, but General Fleiros remained silent. He studied the staff and took a moment to absorb the information. "Then that makes you the new Necromancer King, doesn't it?" The soldiers dropped the cheering and instantly raised their weapons again, waiting for their orders. Sensing a threat, the scarlet light of the Ruby began to emanate outward and bathed the entire area in red. 

"That's true," I answered. "I am the new Undead Heir." It still felt so weird to say; I'd daydreamed so many times about this moment. But now that it was finally here, it just felt empty. "And I want to negotiate a treaty with you, General. I want peace between the Paladins and..." I turned to gesture behind me, but I realized that it was just a desolate, empty ruin and the field of bones, "and me, I guess."

"PEACE?" For the first time, the general's zen-like calm evaporated and his face contorted with rage. "You invade our lands, trap my army, teleport us here against our will, force us to fight your battle, and now you want PEACE? Where was this offer when they were still alive?" He thrust a hand to the side, where a group of Paladin soldiers were building a towering pyre loaded with the bodies of fallen soldiers. I looked around at the reaining soldiers and realized that at least three quarters of the Paladin army had fallen in the battle, including poor Bess the cleric. Her golden hair, soaked in oil, cascaded over a wooden beam on the pyre as her comrades prepared her body to be burned. "There will be no peace," Fleiros growled. "You will pay for your crimes."

"I'm sorry for your losses, General. I'm sure they were good people." I took a seat in the dirt and gestured for the general to join me. He didn't. But Mog sat beside me me, kicking up a cloud of dust and ash as he dropped down. "Do you know what's so special about this thing?" I waved the Dragonheart at the general. 

"It's how you scavengers pick your leader," he answered. "Whichever one of you has that scepter gets to be the king, yes?"

"Well, generally. But I don't care much about being the Lord of the Blighted Lands and all that." Ah, it felt so good to say out loud! If my father had been dead, he would have been rolling in his grave right about now. "But there's a reason why whoever conrols the Dragonheart gets to rule. It's an immensely  powerful object. Powerful enough to bring people back to life as if they'd never died. Good as new." He seemed skeptical, but at least he was still listening. "This is the whole reason we're here. I just want to bring one of my friends back to life."