DESPERATE NECROMANCY

THERE WAS A STORM THAT NIGHT, SHAKING MY MANSE. BUT IT LAY EMPTY. IT LAY STILL. THE HEART THAT ONCE BEAT IN SYNCOPATION WITH MY DESIRE TO LIVE BEATS NO MORE. FOR ALL MY TALENTS IN WIZARDRY I HAVE YET TO BE ABLE TO STOP TIME, I HAVE YET TO BE ABLE TO REVERSE DEATH. BUT I HAVE BEEN TOLD OF A RITUAL; A RITE TO BRING AIR BACK TO LUNGS AND SPIRIT BACK TO CORPUS. I HAVE NOT DELVED INTO NECROMANCY. FOR ALL MY YEARS AS A WARLOCK, IN THAT REGARD I AM BARELY AN ADEPT, AN ACOLYTE. BUT I MUST TRY. FAILURE SHALL ONLY LEAVE MY LOVE AS STILL AND LIFELESS AS SHE ALREADY EXISTS. IT CALLS TO ME. I GAZE UPON THE ANCIENT TOME, PLUCKED FROM A LIBRARY THE WORLD HAS LONG FORGOTTEN ABOUT. BUT WHO SHALL SHE BE? SHALL SHE BE MY SUNBEAM, MY EVERYTHING? OR SHALL SHE BE A WALKING SHELL, DEVOID OF HER VERY BEING? I SHALL RISK IT ALL. MY PAIN IS TOO DEEP. TOO ENDLESS. I MUST REACH FOR A SALVE. I OPEN THE BOOK. I SHALL COMMIT TO THIS COURSE.

WE BASKED IN THE SUN. SHE HAD RETURNED TO ME. HER VOICE: A SYMPHONY. HER LAUGHTER BOUNCED INSIDE MY HEART. MY SOUL AT PEACE. DAYS TURNED INTO WEEKS, AND EVERY SECOND SAVORED LIKE A DELICACY BEYOND COMPREHENSION. BUT THERE WAS THE COLD. IT FOLLOWED HER EVERYWHERE. AT NIGHT, UNDER WARM FURS AND BY A HOT FIRE, HER FLESH STILL WAS ICE. NO DOUBT, I HAD ASSURED MYSELF, SIMPLY PART AND PARCEL OF THE RESURRECTION MAGIC. I WOULD SURELY FIND CONFIRMATION OF THIS IN THE TOME FROM WHICH THE SPELL WAS CAST. BUT I COULDN’T. AND I COULDN’T IN ANY OTHER TOME. I SEARCHED THROUGH EVERY ARCANE TEXT, SPOKE TO EVERY GRAND MAGUS I COULD ENTREAT. NO ANSWERS WERE TO BE FOUND. AND THEN CAME THE VOICES. SUBTLE AT FIRST, EASILY MISTAKEN FOR AN ERRANT DRAFT IN STONE WALLS, OR THE CRACKLE OF BURNING WOOD. BUT LOUDER THEY GREW. MY QUEEN BEGAN TO RETREAT INTO LONG PERIODS OF SILENCE AS THEY WOULD COME, HER FACE CONTORTING INTO A MASK OF PAIN EVERY TIME.

I DARED NOT TO ASK. I DID NOT WANT THE ANSWER, ALTHOUGH I KNEW IT FAR TOO WELL. SHE CONTINUED SHRINKING FROM ME, RETREATING AS THE VOICES CAME. PERHAPS SHE DID NOT REALIZE THEY WERE AUDIBLE TO ME AS WELL, THEIR WORDS CLEARLY ENCOURAGEMENT AND DEMANDS. OF VIOLENCE. AGAINST ME. AGAINST OTHERS. AND THREATS MADE BY THIS DISEMBODIED VILLAIN TO HER. WHEN I WOULD ASK IF SHE WAS ILL, SHE’D SNAP AT ME. THE SYMPHONY STOPPED PLAYING. IN TIME, SHE WAS BARELY ANIMATED, ALMOST MECHANICAL IN HER MOVEMENTS. HER DAILY ROUTINES SHIFTED. SHE WAS AWAKE BEFORE THE SUN, AND DISAPPEARED UNTIL IT SET. ONLY THEN WOULD SHE EMERGE, TOO GORGED TO EVER EAT, TOO RESTED TO SLUMBER. IT WAS ONLY WHEN I AWOKE BY CHANCE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT THAT I TRULY SAW HER. SHE STOOD OUTSIDE THE DOOR OF THE KEEP, GAZING INTO A PUDDLE. REFLECTING BACK, A DEMONIC VISAGE, UNEXPLAINABLE BY MERE WORDS. MY TERROR. MY HEARTBREAK. I DID NOT REVIVE THE WOMAN, I GAVE THE QUEEN OF DARKNESS A VESSEL, A PLAYTHING.

IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME. SHE WOULD EVENTUALLY SLAY ME, AND BEYOND THAT, UNSPEAKABLE ACTS TO SATE THE HUNGER OF MALUM DEA INFERNI. MY DAYS WERE NIGHTMARISH, SPENT IN ISOLATION OR WHEN IN HER PRESENCE, ATTEMPTING TO FAKE NORMALCY. BUT NONE COULD BE FOUND. THE VOICES WERE NEAR CONSTANT, AND ALMOST SCREAMING. THEY ECHOED OFF THE COLD STONE WALLS IN A WAY THAT MADE THEIR UTTERANCES ALMOST CHORAL. IT WAS DRIVING ME MAD. SHE HAD TO HAVE KNOWN I HEARD THEM NOW, I’D FLINCH WITH EVERY WORD. SHE LOOKED ALMOST AMUSED, AS IF MY SUFFERING WAS HER DELIGHT. IT WAS ONLY WHEN I WAS SURE SHE WAS NOT WITHIN EARSHOT THAT I FELT SAFE TO PONDER MY NEXT TASK. HOW COULD I RID HER OF THIS HEX? HOW COULD I RID MYSELF OF MY FEAR OF DEATH AT HER HANDS? IT WAS CLEAR WE WERE BOTH CURSED BY THIS, BOTH BY THE DEMON THAT POSSESSED HER, AND THE LOVE THAT LED US HERE. MY ANIMUS GREW. HOW COULD I BE SO FOOLISH? I WAS A SORCERER ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT THE DEAD SHALL DEAD REMAIN, AND FAILURE TO ALLOW FOR THAT WOULD LEAD TO TRAGEDY. I COULD NOT SLINK AWAY ANY MORE. I KNEW WHAT I MUST DO.

I PLEAD WITH HER TO ALLOW ME TO ATTEMPT TO SEVER THE CONNECTION. UNDO THE BIND. SHE LAUGHS, FOR I AM BUT A FOOL, SHE IS DIVINE. HER DAILY SOJOURN IS THE ONLY TIME I HAVE TO PLAN. THE SAME BLADE FROM WHICH THE SIGIL FORMED, THE SAME DAGGER THAT DREW MY BLOOD, IT MUST NOW DRAW HERS. I ONLY HAVE ONE CHANCE. I MUST PLUNGE IT DIRECTLY INTO HER HEART. I MAKE MY APPROACH. AND THERE SHE SITS, BY THE BRIDGE, BY THE WATER. AND SHE TURNS AND SMILES. I FALTER. HOW CAN I DO THIS? HOW CAN I DESTROY WHAT I LOVE? HOW CAN I MURDER SO HEARTLESSLY ALL THAT I STILL BREATHE FOR? BUT THE SMILE FADED AS QUICKLY AS IT CAME. THE LIGHT BEHIND HER EYES REFLECTED BLACK. I DREW THE BLADE. AND WE BOTH WERE SLAIN.