"See, I knew you would say that. I am no longer asking. Your people here are dying, you are not fit to be Lord of this land." Adrion stood up, his power moving with him. He held up hishand, his fae magic singing in my ears as his power made the lord portray a look of concern until—
His magic vanished. And the prince collapsed. I immediately moved to catch him, settling him down slowly onto the floor. All of our men including: Inanov, Akiel, Hulin, Red... they were out cold. Unconscious, and vulnerable.
The prince clenched his jaw in pain. “What-what’s," the prince spoke, confusion clouding his face.
My eyes then widened."The wine..."I whispered in realisation. The prince looked at me in frightening shock and then winced.
The lord sighed softly. "I was beginning to get a bit worried there. I almost thought the faebane used in your wine was not taking effect strongly enough." The prince snarled and I held the blade in my hand tighter as I leaned over the prince.
"You will be sentenced to death for doing this to a royal prince. The future King of Apollo," the prince reminded.
"Future King? Really?" the lord drawled and looked at him with disdain.
"Pray tell. Why would the king send out his heir to do an errand boy's work? I was actually hoping it would be your sister who came to see me. She's far more powerful—the faeblood in her runs strong. Extracting her power would be more beneficial to me, however, yours should do." He shrugged and cleared the food on the table with a swipe of his hand, contents falling to the floor with a crash, replacing it all on the table with tubes of liquid.
"What are you...?"The prince for the first time, looking disorientated. Not understanding the situation unfolding before him.
"He's a necromancer," I answered. The one answer I've been fearing to admit. To say it out loud made me tremble.
Chapter 29
A Peek Into The Shadows
The old Queen of Duvessa, the offspring of Death and Darkness. The most formidable fae of Terran. An image of both Riaan and Nocturna. The afterlife and darkness incarnate. A goddess to have walked Terran and ruled over the Kingdom of Duvessa. And from her, her own family of darklings were created. One son. A grandson. And a grand-daughter—the living image of the Old Queen. The powers of the young heirs are unknown and are yet to be discovered.
The following Korovian text has been transcribed in an oath of truth by Volda Keely Darkblood of the Darkblood witch Coven.
For a while, none of us spoke.
The prince became less tense in my arms. His body going from rigid to relaxed. His eyes closing, his breathing had slowed down and now succumbed to sleep. I placed him down gently. My jaw clenched, my fist tightening around the hilt of the fire blade. The necromancer continued silently mixing thick bright liquids and making concoctions of sorts. His wives still smiled in their trance-like states. Just standing behind their master. The necromancer smeared what looked like blood onto the table, making that similar pentagram shape that I had seen in his cellar.
"Virgin blood. It makes extracting your Apollon Prince's powers much easier," he spoke in concentration while drawing unholy patterns. I kept silent. Watching him. Analysing where would be the best place to strike. "You can either become my bride. Or die. Either will be much better than being in the company of Apollons." I controlled my breathing. I couldn't let too much blood flow to my heart. I needed to remain calm—and think.
How on Terran do I kill a necromancer?
I was already speaking before I thought it through. "These women,” I looked at them all, “are all from the village?" I took a few steps back, away from the prince. If Inanov could see me now, he would shout at me.
"Yes. All of them. All my rewards for granting them the gift of life." He smiled deliriously as he bit into his wrist and smeared his blood onto the table.
"Yes, keep him talking. He loves to hear himself talk,"a darker, much colder voice inside me spoke.
"The plague… You caused it, didn't you?" It had made sense. It was slowly coming together. How the girls got sick. How they had all either died or fallen gravely ill. The necromancer leaned against the wall stopping his tasks, his black blood drippingfrom his wrist. My eyes immediately spotted the lantern above him mounted to the wall. Filled up with oil to keep the fire alight. A plan—perhaps a futile one—formed in my head.
A distraction is all I needed.
"The sickness of the land. Yes, I created that. A very difficult magic of sorts that only targets the young women. All the rain? The lightning? It was my magic, the lightning that restored them back to life. A life for a life. I had no use of the guards within my walls. I killed them and in exchange bought the lives of my beautiful wives." He smiled fondly at the memory of his sins. "Even though I was the cause of their deaths, their families could not bear to witness them dead. So they gave them to me as wives. To live a luxurious life and of course, with being regularly fucked. Better them safe and fucked than dead. A strange thing, love is. Some were strong enough to let their daughters die instead of bringing them to me." The necromancer scoffed. "What a waste. Love is weakness and failure. Hope, however, is manipulation. To give them that hope, that their daughter will live even if they never see them again. Well, that's what aided me." I grit my teeth, my heart ached for the girls and their families. How he had toyed with the hearts of innocents, how he had raped the women. Just to satisfy his lust and to commit sins for his own selfishness. How vile this...thingwas.
"You don't have magic." I spat and threw my blade across, it hit its mark. Right into the lantern- the oil now slowly dripped onto him and onto the floor. The necromancer laughed hysterically, his body moving up and down in deep laughter.
"You will honestly have to do better than that if you plan to kill me. Much better actually to remotely hurt me." He grinned. It was my turn to smile. I commanded the fire in my blade to come alight. All the oil that had splattered now caught onto fire and exploded. I willed the fire to become larger. The necromancer's eyes widened, jumping back and hissed inhumanely. His cheekcharred and burnt, yet slowly healing. He was no normal necromancer... This was an undead scorned being.
"What have you done to the actual Lord of Litara?" I shouted and swiped the two blades from my thighs. I wielded the fire onto them immediately.
"Burn it all down,"the blades called out to me. Singing in my veins.
No.
I looked around. There were innocent people here. I subdued the fire around the necromancer by only a bit, to not hurt the rest in the room.
