A Skeleton and a Lich

by Michael Chatfield

  Her emotions were stirred up as she was once again on that pedestal with the Tribunal.

  “Next,” Aila said, her voice coarse and her eyes itching.

  The leaders nodded as Aila found herself on a farm.

  Lives passed; Aila immersed herself into each and every one before her trial ended and a new life began. She didn’t know how many trials she went through until she stood in front of the Tribunal again. She was numb, spent; her core values had been tested. She felt stripped clean and bare. All of her thoughts, her emotions were laid out for others to see.

  She didn’t care. That was her; whether she was worthy to be a Guardian or not, she had learned what kind of person she was, what she cared about, and what she was willing to do for what she cared about.

  “In your second battle, you raised golems instead of people. Why is that?” the elven leader asked.

  “Takes more power to raise undead. Didn’t know if they were strong enough to make it worth it. Golems are cheaper and still effective,” Aila answered honestly.

  “You used tricks and deception at times in order to leverage the truth or to force someone to do your bidding. Why?” the hobgoblin asked.

  “I knew the information was there; I only got it out of them. I didn’t hurt or harm them. People’s words and their care for their position work against them. Arrogance is an aid to others, if used right.”

  “You killed other people. Why?” the elemental asked.

  “Not all people are worth saving. If a person intends another harm, then I will prevent them from doing so. If I have to, that means I need to kill them. I protect the people of Dena, but that doesn’t mean that I protect those who wish to harm others.”

  “You used dark arts to kill and to fight. Would you use other arts?” the human asked.

  “Ask him.” Aila pointed at the elven leader.

  “One is attuned to dark magic; using other magic is like cutting off their hand. They can still do things, but their power is greatly reduced,” he replied in her stead.

  They asked question after question and Aila fell into a daze, answering them as truthfully as possible.

  ***

  “Did you know?” Claire asked Anthony.

  “I didn’t,” Anthony said as they looked at Aila. It had only been a few minutes, but he knew how in one’s trial a few minutes could be days or weeks. Constant trials gave the participant a new life, to challenge them and their values. It would pull out the truth through action and then at the end, they would ask them questions, have them reveal their deepest secrets.

  It reveals one’s inner demons and forces them to confront them. Many are able to lie to themselves and think that they are a Guardian just because they want to be.

  Finally, the eyes started to close around the platform as the Tribunal and Aila opened their eyes.

  Aila looked tired, as if she were about to fall, but she stayed upright.

  “The world is not as simple as people think. Right and wrong—between the two, there is a lot of gray. Others will be sneaky and use plots, so we must learn to adapt and use our own,” the gnome said.

  “Do you agree to carry out the duties of a Guardian, sworn to protect this Dena, its people, whether human, beast kin, gnome, dwarf, goblin, elven, or elemental?” the elven leader asked.

  “I do,” Aila said.

  “Repeat after me, the Guardian Oath.”

  The other members of the Tribunal rose, covering their Guardian symbol.

  ***

  As they started the oath Aila fell into a daze, she was fully under their power, their words of truth rooting through her, bringing out all the memories of the lifetimes and trials she had undergone.

  She knew what was going on, nothing was hazy, it was the most sure she had been of anything, feeling the words fuse into her very soul, the oath, it wasn’t just a collection of words, it was a promise a declaration to the rest of the universe, to the people of Dena and herself.

  She understood the Guardians sacrificed all that they had and were for others, this was their true power and their calling.

  It wasn’t that they welcomed suffering, they just understood that they would rather take that weight from others shoulders.

  “Aila Wranoris, the first of a new generation of Guardians, your path will not be easy, but know that you follow in a long line of others,” The Elf leader stepped forward, instead of being cold and aloof this one was almost fatherly.

  For a moment she saw behind him elves, no in groups but all together, dark, high, wood, mountain, all the different races of elves as one, one and all wearing the guardian symbol, dedicating their long lives to one cause.

  The Guardian symbol that hung in the air drifted towards he and covered her own formed symbol.

  She staggered slightly under the force of power.

  The world turned dark and she found herself on a dark floor, light was coming from somewhere and there was smoke drifting around her.

  She looked around, drawing her mana, ready, those lifetimes, they had changed her, life, death, trials and tribulations she was not the same person who had started the trial.

  “Hello,” A man’s voice came from the side. She looked over, seeing someone wearing a cloak.

  “Who are you?” She demanded, ready to fight in a moment.

  “Me, I have many names, some chosen, others picked. You can call me Darjal,” The man’s face was hidden but she heard the smile in his words. Other than the cloak she felt that the man was just a nice father.

  “What is this?” Aila looked around.

  “This, is your Guardian training, well, your class training.”

  “Class training?” Aila started to relax slightly.

  “It is rare that I get called to train another, but it makes sense,” Darjal said quietly to himself as he put his gloved hands behind his back

  “What is the basis of necromancy?”

  “The awakening of inanimate objects,”Aila said.

  “Very well, it is giving spirit and instincts to hings that do not intrinsically have them,” Drajal nodded.

  Darjal and Aila talked about necromancy, about attack and defensive magic. Necromancy was a taboo subject and Aila rarely talked about it openly, with Darjal they talked openly with her finally able to ask questions that had plagued her for years.

  “How did Necromancy come to be? How was it learned?”

  Darjal was sitting at a chair, Aila across from him.

  “Equal parts, healing, mechanical crafting, loss, love, revenge and vengeance,” Darjal said, sounding tired and old.

  Aila stared at Darjal, he sighed, they had come to know one another well over the last few months in the darkness.

  “There is a story. Once there was a healer, he was a simple man, he sought to help out in the town he lived in where he lived with his wife two daughters and son. His wife was in the guard a strong woman who was equal parts tough and loving.”

  Darjal sat back in his chair.

  The husband tinkered with mechanical constructs on the side, making things to help in the house, to entertain the children.

  “There was a group, they went into the city, they were knights from a noble. There was trouble and a fight broke out, the guards stepped in an one of the knights died. They left but they secretly blamed the guards.

  “Time went by but the knights, they returned. They cam back needing blood. They attacked the guards that had been part of the incident, they found the leader of that group of guards, that same strong loving woman. They let out their rage upon her and her family. The husband was in another town, helping with a childbirth. He returned to the village the next day. He tried everything in his knowledge to bring back his family. Given into rage and grief, he knew of how to enchant items and in madness he enchanted their bodies, they stood upright, but they no longer breathed, they no longer spoke, they were turned into the first walking undead.

  “The town learned what he had done and turned against him. They banished him, scared of
what might happen if the knights and the noble that controlled them found out.

  “

  He waged a war against the noble, the fight turned to the kingdom, against everyone and anything, he lost his path, devolving into that madness, he was nearly killed, instea of letting it pass and seeking rest, he bound his soul to an inanimate object, one of his son’s toys. A wooden horse,” Darjal half-laughed.

  “I was known as the first lich, the first necromantic lord, the lord of darkness and retribution,” Darjal pulled back on his hood, Aila let out a hiss, seeing his half skull-half rotting face. She calmed, seeing that same soft light in his eyes he had when talking of his family.

  “I didn’t start off bad, but I became the thing I hated. A guardian brought me justice, brought others that I had hurt and weren’t to blame justice and I got my rest in the end. You have an incredible power Aila Wranoris, use it to bring peace and justice, don’t follow in my path.”

  With that he faded away and Aila was hit with a wave of information.

  She opened her eyes again, tears running down her face as she reached out for her gift, it came from the love of a father, turned into his vengeance and rage. It was just a power, how it was used dictated if it was good or bad.

  The world faded again and Aila felt her breath halt as she found a blade at her throat.

  “We’ll need to work on your speed and your awareness,” A woman said in Aila’s ear. Aila felt a chill, the woman wasn’t whispering it was just she was used to talking so quietly that it never passed more than a few feet away from her and her listener.

  The blade disappeared and Aila jumped out of her seat, rolling and grabbing her daggers, coming into a low crouch.

  “Sloppy, but workable,” Aila finally got to see her attacker. It was a woman wearing assassins garb complete with thin armor and two blades that rested in her hands. Only when she looked at them did she notice that they were there, with the casual way the woman acted as if they were an extension of herself.

  “You have two short daggers, magic and no ranged attack. You magical types always relying on spells to hit anything at distance,” The assassin hissed.

  “We will be fixing that,” The woman moved her blades shooting out, Aila tried to block. The woman danced through her blades, leaving three slashes on Aila.

  The slashes were flashes of light, while they weren’t permeant wounds, Aila let out a gasp of pain.

  They damn well feel like they’re real!

  “Pain is the true teacher. You have daggers, you will need to be much more accurate to block other daggers. Focus on dodging, not blocking for now!”

  Aila didn’t know how much time she spent trading attacks with her second teacher. Kazumi the panther-kin assassin.

  She hadn’t needed to sleep or eat, but she felt the pain and all other sensations, it allowed her to fight continuously, surpassing her limits as she pushed past the limits she had placed upon herself.

  “You’re passable,” Kazumi said with a wry smile. Aila flushed at hearing such praise from Kazumi.

  “May your blades be true and your blood remain in your body,” Kazumi smiled and faded away.

  Aila felt a rush of power, the trials had broken down who she was, the oath had revealed her true desires while her teachers had tempered her and now the power of Dena, the power of a Guardian filled her.

  She returned to the room with the Dena leaders and the emblem that melded into her own emblem.

  Now she understood why Damien seemed to siddferent when he had stepped off of the platform. They weren’t the same person as when they had stepped up onto it.

  She bowed to the Tribunal and stepped down from the platform.

  Months or years had passed in mere seconds.

  “Are there any others?” the human lady asked once again.

  No one said anything. This time, Tommie actually backed up.

  “Two more Guardians walk Dena—it is a good day.” The hobgoblin banged her staff against the floor.

  The others smiled in agreement.

  “Hopefully there will be more to come. I hope you’re well rested,” Claire said.

  “Of course. It is about time that the Guardians rose once more. Even now I can sense the power of chaos feeding off Dena and its people,” the gnome said with a grim look.

  “Till the next Tribunal.” The human lady looked at them and disappeared. A faint purple smoke drifted to the floor from where she had been standing.

  Others started to disappear as well.

  Before he left, Randarok, the elemental leader, looked to Claire and Anthony. “I may not be one of this world anymore, but I have need of Guardians in mine. I can’t work miracles, but I’m pretty good with bodies and magic.”

  “And the barbecue is lacking,” the beast kin butted in, grinning before he disappeared with the others.

  Anthony and Claire smiled.

  Clouds appeared outside of Randarok’s body, the clouds condensing forming a metal rectangle, he held out his hand and it floated over to Claire.

  “Find me if you need my aid.” With that, he disappeared.

  Claire looked at the shard of stone. There were flashes of power within it. It was no simple piece of rock.

  “I will summon the judges gathered in the city and send word to those across the isles. We will travel to the east by the sea, across the top of Ilsal and to Radal. War is now upon us. We must act swiftly to mitigate the losses and see if we can’t stop it before too much damage has been done,” Claire said.

  Anthony looked at Damien, Tommie, and Aila. “Will you aid us?”

  “You give me the order and I’ll go where you need me. You are the leader of the Guardians now.” Damien stepped forward.

  “Same goes for me.” Aila was still tired but there was a strength beyond that as she looked at Anthony.

  “I’ll follow you if you’ll have me,” Tommie said in a small voice.

  “Every party needs a gnome. Everyone knows that you’re the best for thinking things through,” Anthony said.

  “And you’re the worst for messing those plans up,” Claire quipped.

  “I’m just plan testing—you know, adding in a few random what-ifs.”

  “The judges will be here by tonight. We will depart tomorrow afternoon.”

  Chapter: On the Graves of the Faithful

  Yakish walked through the halls of the Church of Light. Wherever he went, the faithful would bow down as their messenger and leader, the High Ascendant onto Light, the Lord Ascendant Torkai passed.

  So meek and gullible. With the change of one person’s appearance, they are no better than sheep. As long as the lie is maintained, they will no longer question it.

  Two saints of Light, the guardians and highest power within the Church of Light, moved to open the door to the meeting room. They entered and checked the room as the other two with Yakish turned and faced the hall. The guards looked at people who came close.

  People avoided the hall, turning back or going around.

  “Stand guard outside,” Yakish said.

  The two saints bowed and left the room, closing the door behind them. A spell fell over the room, suppressing any noise getting in or out and blocking off the doors and windows.

  Yakish shook, growing larger and taller. The others in the room were all surrounded by light as they returned to their true form as Drafeng commanders.

  “Wearing that human skin is tiring.” Nura twisted and turned her body around, extending her neck. She didn’t open her mouth to talk, using the chaotic power of her body to do so.

  “It will not be for much longer. With the fight between the beast kin and the humans about to begin, we will draw in the elves and the other races,” Inras said.

  “Enjoying the power of the Lord Ascendant?” Szante asked.

  “It is indeed interesting. How is the real Torkai?”

  “Consumed by madness now that he knows the truth of the Church of Light,” Szante said. Drafeng expressions didn’t change but ba
sed on their chaotic power, one could read and study their emotions. They were creatures so in tune with their own power that it was their limbs, their voice, and their way of expression. Over time, they had focused less on what they could do with their bodies and more on what they could do with their power, changing and optimizing their very bodies for combat and needed tasks. Such as wearing the skins of the humans and the other races to infiltrate their networks and their higher echelons to move them in their desired directions.

  “Once they learn the truth that they have been working toward the destruction of the Church of Light, the destruction of the people of Dena, they are always shocked,” Inras said in a bored voice.

  “Four hundred years have made you tired, Inras?” Yakish asked.

  “Not tired—uninterested. It was fun with the first few, but still they do not have the ability or care to look into us. Belief is a powerful thing that can be used easily as a weapon. It is interesting how they may lie to themselves about them doing good for Dena. Torkai ordered hundreds of deaths and committed crimes against the other races and against his own. When he found out there is no truth to the Church of Light, then he calls us murderers and devils. We are waging a war against his people, but he is supposed to be their protector and savior. But he himself had them killed and attacked them. The irony.”

  “People like to be the hero. We make them believe it.” Nura’s arms moved slowly. Everyone felt her dark humor and joy at the humans and the other races moving to their whim.

  Yakish couldn’t help but feel a flash of joy. It had been a few Lord Ascendants since he had taken over their role, cycling between the different Drafeng commanders.

  “Shall we begin with the meeting at hand?” Szante asked.

  The commanders moved to the table, turning their long necks to face Szante.

  “We have discovered a group of dwarves is moving between a gnomish settlement and a dwarven mountain containing a dwarven princess. There are people within the dwarven royalty who are being pushed out with the connection to the gnomes who are bringing along a steam-powered engine that will increase the dwarves’ economy. In turn, the gnomes are growing in power and accepting more people every day into their settlement. If we can attack the princess, from the gnome side, using the dwarven royalty we have in place, we can ignite a war there. It wouldn’t be hard to draw them into the other conflict with the beast kin and the humans, offering one side or the other the support of the humans in destroying the other to exact vengeance.”