Donovan was working in his office when Ixitil landed on the nearby window ledge. The morphling pecked at the glass to alert him of his presence.
He gave the morphling a slight nod before the creature flew away again. Not wanting to delay, he set down the report he had been going over and stood, adjusting his suit. “I have some business to attend to,” he stated to his assistant as he left the building.
The trip over to his son’s house took only a few minutes, Ixitil greeted him on the front steps.
“I take it everything went as planned?” Donovan asked as the two walked into Vincent’s home.
“Not exactly,” Ixitil replied blandly.
“Oh? Please elaborate.”
“The necromancer, who goes by Lord Norman, agreed to free your son. But he bound him with a blood oath.”
Donovan frowned. “A prudent action, if annoying.”
Ixitil nodded. “I knew you would want to speak with Vincent as soon as possible so I killed him to both rid him of the blood oath and fly here as fast as possible to report to you.”
Having seen Ixitil’s arrival only a scant two weeks after he left, Donovan had suspected as much. A trip by foot or even by vehicle would have taken a month or more.
“I find your actions acceptable. What didn’t go to plan?”
“Lord Norman refused to join the Council. He wished to remain neutral and close to his people.”
Donovan tsked at that. “An ignorant and short-sighted outlook. If we fail here, who’s to stop the enemies that want the rest of humanity dead? But I guess we can’t expect him to understand when he isn’t on the front line. What did you promise him for my son’s return?”
“Manufactured goods.”
Donovan came to a halt in the hallway. “That’s it? Not even manufacturing capability, just manufactured goods?”
Ixitil nodded. “He didn’t even make a counteroffer, just accepted the first offer I proposed with a few minor adjustments.”
Did this Lord Norman have some ulterior motive, or had the man simply not cared?
Donovan started walking down the hallway again. “What can you tell me of the town and the man?”
“Hard to say. It was a rather short meeting. Amiable perhaps. Although his people are a force to reckon with. They have advanced magical armor of an unknown design and magically enhanced weapons. His forces are also extremely protective, the few that he has.”
“So his forces are stronger than ours but also far fewer.”
“Yes.”
Donovan paused outside the door to Vincent’s summoning room and turned toward Ixitil. “If we were forced to go to war with the man, what are our odds?”
Ixitil paused to think before eventually responding. “On his home turf, slim. If he chose to attack California, the odds are better. Without direct knowledge of how he converted all of Vincent’s undead, I cannot say he wouldn’t also succeed here. But I don’t see that happening. The man did attack a neighboring state, but from what little information I was able to gather, that seemed to have been a result of being attacked first. Then he converted that neighboring country into a trade partner. I believe if we leave him alone, he will be more than happy to stay where he is.”
“Hmm, I agree that not antagonizing the man is the best approach but we need to try and sway him to our side. I want you to deploy more spies. If it does come to conflict, I want to have all the information we can gather on him and his forces. I think we also need to start diversifying our forces.”
Ixitil nodded. “We will need undead that aren’t mindless to act as spies. Or I can try to turn some of their locals. But that may be difficult. A better option might be to try to approach the other undead groups in his zone. There are a few separate groups within the zone he claimed. It seems like not everyone agreed to remain inside his one city. The last option is working with this Alacala Merchant Alliance he formed a trade deal with to buy information from them.”
“Avoid trying to turn the people in his main city, that’s too risky at the moment. But proceed with the other options and keep me informed.”
Ixitil nodded one last time before walking away. Donovan turned toward the summoning room again and opened the door.
The room remained just as Vincent had left it. Donovan did eye the translucent barrier covering the door at the far side of the room. He shook his head, he was sure whatever his son had hidden in there was the reason he had so aggressively decided to pursue this necromancer. He would get that answer today, one way or another.
He moved toward the magical array on the floor and began to prep it. This wasn’t the first time this array had been used by him or Vincent. In their efforts to reclaim California, a few of the more aggressive Council members had thought themselves invincible, only to find out they weren’t.
Foolish idiots. If the enemy to their south had been weak, this war would have been over years ago. But they weren’t. Some of their southern enemies were equally as strong as some of the Council members. But with Vincent’s magic, or more accurately, this Lord Norman’s, they were able to revive the dead Council members. It was only the massive amounts of undead soldiers that kept any semblance of balance and let the Council slowly push the front. A balance that was nearly undone by Vincent’s rash actions.
This ability to revive the dead was one of the reasons the Council wasn’t as vocal about removing necromancy as a whole.
With the spell prepped, Donovan poured a sample container of Vincent’s blood into the required circle. The other circle contained another summoned morphling that took on the form of his son. It bypassed the spells requirement to have the original body. With everything ready, he activated the spell.
He dearly wished to know how this Lord Norman had bypassed that requirement to resurrect Vincent. Perhaps his wayward son could answer that. Speaking of, Donovan looked down at the pitiful trembling man that had now appeared inside the circle.
“I will be waiting in the dining room. Get dressed, we have a lot of things to discuss.” With that, he turned and left the room.
It was nearly an hour before Vincent finally deigned to join him. Donovan was already halfway through a meal he asked Vincent’s chef to prepare. He gestured to the table. “Sit and eat. We can discuss your failures afterward.”
He could hear Vincent grind his teeth as the man sat down. He ignored his son’s petulant attitude while he continued his meal.
Donovan had restored Vincent to life, ridding his son of that nonsensical undead form he had taken on before. A spell he had picked up from one of his defeated opponents. He knew why his son had done it but it was a ridiculous waste of time and energy. If his son preferred the undead state, just turn himself undead. There was little to gain by taking on that skeletal form. And though he couldn’t confirm his suspicions, Donovan was pretty sure that form had hampered his son’s growth. There would no longer be any allowances for that.
The two ate in awkward silence and eventually, the food and tableware were removed, leaving Donovan with only a glass of fine wine. He swirled the wine, inhaling the aroma before taking a drink. After putting the glass down, he finally acknowledged his silent son. “You really stuck your foot in it this time.”
“Dad, I can explain.”
“Oh, you will be explaining. You’re lucky the Council isn’t aware of this fuck up. You know they would be more than happy to vote to censure you.”
“A bunch of fucking ingrates,” Vincent sneered. “and completely arbitrary if they did.”
Donovan quirked an eyebrow, “How so?”
“I’m still under the blood oaths.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. We know from experience that death removes these oaths.”
“Yeah, well, that bastard figured out a way to make it persist past death. He probably linked it directly to my soul somehow.”
Instead of being angry, Donovan sat back in his chair with a thoughtful look on his face. “Fascinating. And you said there was more than one?”
Vincent ground his teeth in frustration. “I know of at least two, but there could be more. One I can feel prevents me from doing anything to harm him or his people.”
“And the other,” Donvan asked pointedly.
Although reluctant to speak up, Vincent did eventually answer. “He locked me out of all spells I learned from that book.”
“You’re certain about that?”
Just then a servant came in carrying two desserts. The man froze and the food tumbled from his hands. As with all of the servants inside Vincent’s home, that man had been undead but left with his mind intact. Since he had been converted by Vincent, a simple mental command allowed his son to take control of the body.
“Was that really necessary?” Donovan asked.
“You wanted proof, there’s your proof.” Vincent sent the mindless undead out of the room. “I tried a few more spells while I was getting dressed. The only other spell that worked was reverse aging.”
“And your other spells?”
Vincent made some hand gestures and a tiny ball of fire appeared above his hand. “As weak as ever,” the man replied sourly.
“Well, it seems you have finally met your match then. Be glad Lord Norman was magnanimous enough to release you. Otherwise, you would have remained that way for a long time.”
Vincent shot to his feet, throwing his chair to the ground as he slammed his hand to the table. “You want me to be glad this man crippled me!”
“Sit down and control yourself. You aren’t some spoiled child, so stop acting like one.”
“I will not be talked down upon and belittled in my own home,” Vincent raved.
“You wish to challenge me?” Donovan asked calmly, but the air inside the room suddenly grew stifling and thick.
It seemed Vincent finally remembered who he was speaking to as he picked up his chair from the floor and sat back down.
“That’s better. You have nobody but yourself to blame for what happened. What nonsense possessed you to run off and attack some unknown necromancer anyway? And don’t try to lie to me, you are in enough trouble as it is.”
Donovan listened to his son’s report about these strange orbs and the undead he captured and tortured to unlock their purpose. Also of the fight, where this Lord Norman trounced his son seemingly effortlessly.
The outcome of the fight seemed obvious once you knew he had been alerted to his spies dying. But it was the news about the magical array. One that wiped out the control of every single undead under Vincent’s power, which gave Donovan pause.
The Wizard Council had experimented with large arrays, but they were only good for a few hundred feet before the power requirements reached an absurd degree. Having a working array that could stretch miles was a game changer. It just reinforced Donovan’s desire not to get into an open conflict with this Lord Norman.
“I assume Kalia has this last orb or phylactery as you called it?” He well knew Vincent’s feelings for the woman and her talents with magi craft.
Vincent nodded reluctantly.
Donovan stood and buttoned his suit. “If anyone asks where you have been, you were on assignment from me. You will not mention this necromancer, nor will you try to break these blood oaths he has put on you.”
“So, I’m just supposed to stay neutered like this? What about my missing army? Certainly, someone will notice they are gone.”
“I am assigning some of mine over to you. I can claim them lost in battle while I rebuild. As for your condition, consider it a harsh lesson. I suggest you focus your efforts on advancing your magic on your own instead of trying to steal from others.”
“And where are you off to?” Vincent asked in defeat.
“I’m going to go speak with Kalia and ensure her silence on the matter of these phylacteries.”
His son’s soft sobs followed him as he left the room. Vincent had only himself to blame for involving Kalia in this nonsense. While he didn’t censure people for the hell of it, he had been forced to do it a few times. Gail was a prime example of this. The biggest problems required the harshest punishment. And while he liked Kalia, this information she possessed was too dangerous to be let out.
If the other Council members realized they no longer needed to rely on Vincent or Donovan to be reborn, the entire shaky foundation of the Council would crumble. This would result in Northern California reverting to individual wizards squabbling over land. Donovan couldn’t allow that, not after all the sweat and time he had invested in this project. He needed to push their goals ahead. If the Council was shown that a united front was better for everyone involved, there would be less chance of fracturing later.
Donovan was working in his office when Ixitil landed on the nearby window ledge. The morphling pecked at the glass to alert him of his presence.
He gave the morphling a slight nod before the creature flew away again. Not wanting to delay, he set down the report he had been going over and stood, adjusting his suit. “I have some business to attend to,” he stated to his assistant as he left the building.
The trip over to his son’s house took only a few minutes, Ixitil greeted him on the front steps.
“I take it everything went as planned?” Donovan asked as the two walked into Vincent’s home.
“Not exactly,” Ixitil replied blandly.
“Oh? Please elaborate.”
“The necromancer, who goes by Lord Norman, agreed to free your son. But he bound him with a blood oath.”
Donovan frowned. “A prudent action, if annoying.”
Ixitil nodded. “I knew you would want to speak with Vincent as soon as possible so I killed him to both rid him of the blood oath and fly here as fast as possible to report to you.”
Having seen Ixitil’s arrival only a scant two weeks after he left, Donovan had suspected as much. A trip by foot or even by vehicle would have taken a month or more.
“I find your actions acceptable. What didn’t go to plan?”
“Lord Norman refused to join the Council. He wished to remain neutral and close to his people.”
Donovan tsked at that. “An ignorant and short-sighted outlook. If we fail here, who’s to stop the enemies that want the rest of humanity dead? But I guess we can’t expect him to understand when he isn’t on the front line. What did you promise him for my son’s return?”
“Manufactured goods.”
Donovan came to a halt in the hallway. “That’s it? Not even manufacturing capability, just manufactured goods?”
Ixitil nodded. “He didn’t even make a counteroffer, just accepted the first offer I proposed with a few minor adjustments.”
Did this Lord Norman have some ulterior motive, or had the man simply not cared?
Donovan started walking down the hallway again. “What can you tell me of the town and the man?”
“Hard to say. It was a rather short meeting. Amiable perhaps. Although his people are a force to reckon with. They have advanced magical armor of an unknown design and magically enhanced weapons. His forces are also extremely protective, the few that he has.”
“So his forces are stronger than ours but also far fewer.”
“Yes.”
Donovan paused outside the door to Vincent’s summoning room and turned toward Ixitil. “If we were forced to go to war with the man, what are our odds?”
Ixitil paused to think before eventually responding. “On his home turf, slim. If he chose to attack California, the odds are better. Without direct knowledge of how he converted all of Vincent’s undead, I cannot say he wouldn’t also succeed here. But I don’t see that happening. The man did attack a neighboring state, but from what little information I was able to gather, that seemed to have been a result of being attacked first. Then he converted that neighboring country into a trade partner. I believe if we leave him alone, he will be more than happy to stay where he is.”
“Hmm, I agree that not antagonizing the man is the best approach but we need to try and sway him to our side. I want you to deploy more spies. If it does come to conflict, I want to have all the information we can gather on him and his forces. I think we also need to start diversifying our forces.”
Ixitil nodded. “We will need undead that aren’t mindless to act as spies. Or I can try to turn some of their locals. But that may be difficult. A better option might be to try to approach the other undead groups in his zone. There are a few separate groups within the zone he claimed. It seems like not everyone agreed to remain inside his one city. The last option is working with this Alacala Merchant Alliance he formed a trade deal with to buy information from them.”
“Avoid trying to turn the people in his main city, that’s too risky at the moment. But proceed with the other options and keep me informed.”
Ixitil nodded one last time before walking away. Donovan turned toward the summoning room again and opened the door.
The room remained just as Vincent had left it. Donovan did eye the translucent barrier covering the door at the far side of the room. He shook his head, he was sure whatever his son had hidden in there was the reason he had so aggressively decided to pursue this necromancer. He would get that answer today, one way or another.
He moved toward the magical array on the floor and began to prep it. This wasn’t the first time this array had been used by him or Vincent. In their efforts to reclaim California, a few of the more aggressive Council members had thought themselves invincible, only to find out they weren’t.
Foolish idiots. If the enemy to their south had been weak, this war would have been over years ago. But they weren’t. Some of their southern enemies were equally as strong as some of the Council members. But with Vincent’s magic, or more accurately, this Lord Norman’s, they were able to revive the dead Council members. It was only the massive amounts of undead soldiers that kept any semblance of balance and let the Council slowly push the front. A balance that was nearly undone by Vincent’s rash actions.
This ability to revive the dead was one of the reasons the Council wasn’t as vocal about removing necromancy as a whole.
With the spell prepped, Donovan poured a sample container of Vincent’s blood into the required circle. The other circle contained another summoned morphling that took on the form of his son. It bypassed the spells requirement to have the original body. With everything ready, he activated the spell.
He dearly wished to know how this Lord Norman had bypassed that requirement to resurrect Vincent. Perhaps his wayward son could answer that. Speaking of, Donovan looked down at the pitiful trembling man that had now appeared inside the circle.
“I will be waiting in the dining room. Get dressed, we have a lot of things to discuss.” With that, he turned and left the room.
It was nearly an hour before Vincent finally deigned to join him. Donovan was already halfway through a meal he asked Vincent’s chef to prepare. He gestured to the table. “Sit and eat. We can discuss your failures afterward.”
He could hear Vincent grind his teeth as the man sat down. He ignored his son’s petulant attitude while he continued his meal.
Donovan had restored Vincent to life, ridding his son of that nonsensical undead form he had taken on before. A spell he had picked up from one of his defeated opponents. He knew why his son had done it but it was a ridiculous waste of time and energy. If his son preferred the undead state, just turn himself undead. There was little to gain by taking on that skeletal form. And though he couldn’t confirm his suspicions, Donovan was pretty sure that form had hampered his son’s growth. There would no longer be any allowances for that.
The two ate in awkward silence and eventually, the food and tableware were removed, leaving Donovan with only a glass of fine wine. He swirled the wine, inhaling the aroma before taking a drink. After putting the glass down, he finally acknowledged his silent son. “You really stuck your foot in it this time.”
“Dad, I can explain.”
“Oh, you will be explaining. You’re lucky the Council isn’t aware of this fuck up. You know they would be more than happy to vote to censure you.”
“A bunch of fucking ingrates,” Vincent sneered. “and completely arbitrary if they did.”
Donovan quirked an eyebrow, “How so?”
“I’m still under the blood oaths.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. We know from experience that death removes these oaths.”
“Yeah, well, that bastard figured out a way to make it persist past death. He probably linked it directly to my soul somehow.”
Instead of being angry, Donovan sat back in his chair with a thoughtful look on his face. “Fascinating. And you said there was more than one?”
Vincent ground his teeth in frustration. “I know of at least two, but there could be more. One I can feel prevents me from doing anything to harm him or his people.”
“And the other,” Donvan asked pointedly.
Although reluctant to speak up, Vincent did eventually answer. “He locked me out of all spells I learned from that book.”
“You’re certain about that?”
Just then a servant came in carrying two desserts. The man froze and the food tumbled from his hands. As with all of the servants inside Vincent’s home, that man had been undead but left with his mind intact. Since he had been converted by Vincent, a simple mental command allowed his son to take control of the body.
“Was that really necessary?” Donovan asked.
“You wanted proof, there’s your proof.” Vincent sent the mindless undead out of the room. “I tried a few more spells while I was getting dressed. The only other spell that worked was reverse aging.”
“And your other spells?”
Vincent made some hand gestures and a tiny ball of fire appeared above his hand. “As weak as ever,” the man replied sourly.
“Well, it seems you have finally met your match then. Be glad Lord Norman was magnanimous enough to release you. Otherwise, you would have remained that way for a long time.”
Vincent shot to his feet, throwing his chair to the ground as he slammed his hand to the table. “You want me to be glad this man crippled me!”
“Sit down and control yourself. You aren’t some spoiled child, so stop acting like one.”
“I will not be talked down upon and belittled in my own home,” Vincent raved.
“You wish to challenge me?” Donovan asked calmly, but the air inside the room suddenly grew stifling and thick.
It seemed Vincent finally remembered who he was speaking to as he picked up his chair from the floor and sat back down.
“That’s better. You have nobody but yourself to blame for what happened. What nonsense possessed you to run off and attack some unknown necromancer anyway? And don’t try to lie to me, you are in enough trouble as it is.”
Donovan listened to his son’s report about these strange orbs and the undead he captured and tortured to unlock their purpose. Also of the fight, where this Lord Norman trounced his son seemingly effortlessly.
The outcome of the fight seemed obvious once you knew he had been alerted to his spies dying. But it was the news about the magical array. One that wiped out the control of every single undead under Vincent’s power, which gave Donovan pause.
The Wizard Council had experimented with large arrays, but they were only good for a few hundred feet before the power requirements reached an absurd degree. Having a working array that could stretch miles was a game changer. It just reinforced Donovan’s desire not to get into an open conflict with this Lord Norman.
“I assume Kalia has this last orb or phylactery as you called it?” He well knew Vincent’s feelings for the woman and her talents with magi craft.
Vincent nodded reluctantly.
Donovan stood and buttoned his suit. “If anyone asks where you have been, you were on assignment from me. You will not mention this necromancer, nor will you try to break these blood oaths he has put on you.”
“So, I’m just supposed to stay neutered like this? What about my missing army? Certainly, someone will notice they are gone.”
“I am assigning some of mine over to you. I can claim them lost in battle while I rebuild. As for your condition, consider it a harsh lesson. I suggest you focus your efforts on advancing your magic on your own instead of trying to steal from others.”
“And where are you off to?” Vincent asked in defeat.
“I’m going to go speak with Kalia and ensure her silence on the matter of these phylacteries.”
His son’s soft sobs followed him as he left the room. Vincent had only himself to blame for involving Kalia in this nonsense. While he didn’t censure people for the hell of it, he had been forced to do it a few times. Gail was a prime example of this. The biggest problems required the harshest punishment. And while he liked Kalia, this information she possessed was too dangerous to be let out.
If the other Council members realized they no longer needed to rely on Vincent or Donovan to be reborn, the entire shaky foundation of the Council would crumble. This would result in Northern California reverting to individual wizards squabbling over land. Donovan couldn’t allow that, not after all the sweat and time he had invested in this project. He needed to push their goals ahead. If the Council was shown that a united front was better for everyone involved, there would be less chance of fracturing later.
