Hungry Necromancer

While it wasn't the picture of the worst-case scenario; a scene with humans; locked up in districts and ruled over by elven masters, it also wasn't a picture of serenity, peace or order.

It turns out it's the opposite of all that. The gates were unguarded and the merchants that hung out waiting for travellers to come in were nowhere to be found.

But their wares were. They lay on the floor, spilled out in a chaos that spoke of a hurried escape.

"Juri, get your men up on these walls, anyone that isn't on Kaylin's side is to be executed on the spot."

"What?!" Anselm yells, "Executed?"

Ignoring him I give Juri a nod and he turns to the men, delivering the orders. 

Anselm persists, "You can't be serious."

"There's something terribly wrong her Anselm, my priorities lie in my assets, my assets being Kaylin and Aren." I shrug as we walk through the snow, "Besides, dead bodies just mean more undead for me."

He sputters at this but doesn't say anymore.

We leave ground zero of the gates and start our descent into the first of the stratas. There are people, I can see them hiding in their homes, locked stores and all of them have weapons in hand.

What the fuck has happened here? I leave for a week and shit hits the fan this much?

I groan and wonder if I should have just left Hastra in charge after all. But then, I'm not sure what exactly happened here, this could entirely just be an attack from Serue.

Or the Synagogue…or even just Phien, I bet he misses me wreaking his minions.

"Anselm, what do you think has happened here? Why are the streets so empty? Why is everywhere so…quiet?"

As if to mock me for using the word, a thunderous blast erupts.

BOOOMMM! 

"Shaco!"

"Yes, Master!" The serpent instantly morphs into a long thick black beast of a snake and slithers away at shocking speeds.

Anselm's already up in the air, having a look.

"What do you see?" I beckon, running in the direction of the explosion.

He takes a minute but he comes down to answer, "It's the Palace, I think Kaylin is in trouble."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that on my own." I huff, "Where are all the elves!?" I yell out, realizing I'd yet to set my eyes on a single elf since stepping in the city.

Anselm huffs as he flies beside me, "I think I spied some of them at the walls but I can't be sure, I'm only judging by their dressing anyway."

I nod, "Right distance."

Fortunately for me I don't have to keep up the exercise much longer as I come up on a horse, untethered and perhaps even just sleeping.

"Anselm, you go on ahead, I'll catch up." I yell over as I hop onto the horse, it's not saddled so I'll have to work with its mane the best I can.

Anselm nods and flies off to the scene.

It doesn't take more than several mentally draining minutes to get there, at least, that's what it felt like.

I hop off the horse as it couldn't possibly jump over the unmanned security gates, leaving it to my burning legs to run over to the apparently smoking gates of the Palace.

My heart races, fearing the worse has occurred but as I skid to a dead stop in front of the blown off gates and look in, I find a large crowd of men and women, many of them armed and armoured. 

"Master." Shaco's voice rings through my head.

Right. I switch to his view and find things are much clearer now.

Littered on the floor are bodies, either burning or burnt to a crisp already. Through my familiars' eyes I see three completely charred bodies laying on the floor, fitted with fine, powerful armour that was seemingly untouched by the flames.

And they all lay dead around her, Kaylin.

She has a murderous look in her eye, one that tells me she is in fact the one to deliver many of these dead to their final resting places. Hovering behind are lances made of flame, ready to be launched at the foes she faces.

Behind her are guards with swords held up, several of them already engaged in some fight with one or two of the armed people and others simply having her back and protecting the other two, Hastra and Aren. I'm glad to see these two are up and running still.

But through Shaco's eyes I see something that riles me up with a burning hatred. The very thing Kaylin faces now are two tough looking men and a single man in red robes, familiar red robes.

A Diviner.

Full of fury I march forward, slipping through the crowd my raging mind begs me to drain them all with Soul Drain, but I resist and make my way all the way out till I'm in front of the burning gardens, and my boots are soaked in the pools of water from snow melted from their obvious exchange.

And then I see it on her, on Kaylin. Her side has been stabbed through by some spike or some sort, I assume the bump I see now is a result of her breaking the pike or spear in two after the stabbing.

And so, he dares to speak.

His voice is cold and coarse, much like it was when he begged me not to throw him in the dungeons.

"Your fate has been divined, oh lady of the city," He seems to chuckle at this little joke, "You will die here, the question now simply is…will you die having prayed for forgiveness to Anera or will you die a filthy elven heathen!"

Kaylin spits a wad of blood, staining a patch of snow red her flame lances breathe, intensifying as if washed over by a wave of air.

"I think you should know your place old man, Asher tossed you in those Dungeons because you were a detriment to him but now, I see that was a mistake."

The Diviner chuckles and looks to his allies as if sharing in the humour, "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because he should have turned you into an undead instead."

Before either of them can set the other alit with flames I step in and grab their attention with an audacious clap, one that draws the attention away from the two and onto me.

Finally, I'm seen by the crowd and I clearly hear many voice out questions on how I'd gotten here or who I was to stand so confidently.

I pay them no mind, instead, I focus my eye on Kaylin and watch as relief washes over her at the sight of me, the opposite for the Diviner, he stumbles back, nearly tripping on himself as he gasps.

"Asher…What are you…?"

"What am I doing here?" I complete for him and snort, "Such a strange question, isn't it? Diviner?"

The crowd seems to slowly understand just who I am if their fierce bristling is any sign. They hold up their weapons higher and many shrink back from the fronts, many nobles that is.

"Who prepared this…I'm not quite sure what you'd even call this, what do you call it?" I ask, approaching the man as he's boxed in by his own crowd.

He whimpers as my hand falls on his head, "I- I was coerced by the Nobles, they said an elf couldn't rule, please spare me!"

"You're gonna have to let the Diviner go." A voice proclaims with might behind me.

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth…a person, anyone in this city speaking to me as though they can command me, as though they could possibly resist my power and even overwhelm me.

Slowly, I turn over and find a man with two twin blades raise up over his head, set in an awkward combat stance.

"And who are you?"

"The man telling you to let go of the Diviner." He says again chest puffed out, this very act of defiance diminishes me so much in the eyes of the gathered, so much that they begin to cheer his defiance rather than mourn his death.

That fury rises within me and in a swift motion I unsheathe my dagger and toss it straight at him. He's startled by the sudden attack but an equally quick parry with one of his blades sends my dagger flying to the ground.

But its already too late.

"Achk!" He screams, flailing against the grip of Death around his throat. With the tendril I raise him up and bring him to me until he falls cleanly on my arm. 

He's heavy to carry with a single arm, but I won't have to carry all his mass for long, I look to the crowd, the Nobility thinning out by the second, damned fools have a sixth sense for when things aren't in their favour.

"I am the owner of Aste, I am the owner of this March, there is nowhere for you or anyone else to go that you won't be under my influence, you will be submissive or you will die."

As I say this, I feel the arrogant man's lifeforce drain into me as Soul Drain turns him into a husk of a man, a skeleton that's so much easier to carry than a full man.

"If you slightly consider yourself Nobility in this City, fall on your knees…everyone else, get out before I kill you too." I toss the skeleton aside and pat my hands dry.

Before it even falls several knees had hit the floor and the peasant army begun to disperse, all of them tripping over themselves to get out of here.

Before me I have four Nobles, all of them kneeling and shivering with fear. And a Diviner completely soaked in his own tears and fluids.

"Kaylin, come here, let's figure out what to do with these disgusting bits of human."