The Flaming Skull spell only lasted for about five minutes before it burned itself up with its own flames. Did that mean it was alive? Norman wasn’t sure
Another thing he noticed was the flames it had spewed about the room were still burning. The shadows cast by the cages were noticeably smaller though, flickering and shrinking as the strange flames consumed them. And as soon as there were no more shadows, the flames went out.
It was odd watching shadows shrink and then disappear, only for them to reappear the next instant, looking completely normal. His next test involved turning off the lights. That had been a bad idea. The skull released its flaming breath, and the flame was slightly more visible in the pitch dark as the edges of the fire glowed a ghostly white. Although it wasn’t actual light. It didn’t diminish the darkness or push back the shadows but it was still visible. Norman had no clue how that worked.
The problem came with the fact that it just continued to spread to any shadow that touched the burning portion. Which was everything in the room now that the lights were off. It still didn’t damage anything physical, but it destroyed everything living it touched and Norman was forced to quickly turn the lights back on to get it under control. If he ever wanted to clear out the jungle, all he needed to do was wait until dusk and set this spell loose. That seemed like something a sociopath would do though. He was glad this wasn’t one of the spells he had come up with back when he recorded things in his grimoire. The thought of Vincent or another Necromancer with zero conscience getting their hands on something so destructive was terrifying.
He set that spell aside for more experimentation later while he prepped his third and final spell. This one was a version of Plague Ray. As with the first two spells, he loosened up his fingers and began to cast. The glittering red lines and symbols began to take shape and he soon finished the spell, leaving a pulsing red orb of twisting magical lines suspended in the air. He admired his handiwork for a moment.
Once the moment passed, Norman reached into his pocket and produced a long thin bone. He stuck the end of it into the spell circle. With a whoosh of air and an audible snap, the spell compressed down onto the tip of the bone, making the end take on a cracked and glowing appearance like it had been stuck in a fire.
Even as he watched, the cracks slowly spread down the length of the bone. That was enough to let him know the spell anchor would not last long. He would need to use a more substantial bone if he wanted a longer-lasting anchor. But he didn’t need it to last long for this test. He pointed the bone wand at a new cage of animals and pressed his intent into the bone. Another new trick he had learned instead of having to crush the bone to release the spell.
It resisted slightly but after a moment, the bone shattered in his hand and a ray of light-absorbing blackness speared out and struck one of the creatures. Visually, the spell didn’t look much different than the original version. Except perhaps the beam being an even darker black than before. Effect wise…
The small critter took on a dark hue, almost looking desaturated, before it completely blackened. As it died and fell over, its husk of a body cracked and fell apart, sending a spray of black dust into the air. As soon as a particle of this dust touched another living creature, that too turned black and perpetuated the spell. Soon all that was left of the dozen or so creatures in the room was a haze of the deadly particles left floating on the air.
He timed how long these particles remained aloft, but gave up after an hour when the particles had yet to settle Not willing to wait any longer, he brought out some more test subjects to see if the spell had a radial limit.
It turned out that after forty or so feet, the spell stopped killing and spreading. It was good there was a limit to the spell's effect. Otherwise, Lingering Death would be far more dangerous than any of his other spells.
As it was, it would make for a very good area of denial spell. Even more potent than his Death Fog. He watched it carefully for two hours before he saw the first particles start to settle on the ground. The only reason he could differentiate these from the others was that they had lost some of their light-absorbent properties and now looked like black soot instead of the eye-searing black of the active particles.
A few minutes later more of the particles dropped. But it was another full hour or more before the last ones settled to the ground. It seemed the spell lasted around two hours, but each victim could extend that duration another two hours after their death.
If there was a steady stream of targets, the spell was effectively permanent. Since it wasn’t pulling on his mana after it was initially activated, Norman figured it must be consuming the life force to sustain itself.
It was an interesting spell with plenty of applications. Just none that Norman required at the moment. He quickly cleaned up the mess and stored a sample of the dust for study before reviving all of the creatures and putting them back in Stasis.
He should really get a fresh batch of test subjects, as these had been subjected to more tests than even the terror birds but he was also conducting a separate study on the effects of prolonged spell exposure and repeated revival. The purpose of that study was to see if true intelligence could be created. Princess and the Terror Birds were smart. But he wanted to see if he could make another intelligent race like the gron, jorik, or ratar, not just another mana beast.
Norman didn’t really have any good reason to do this. Other than that he wanted to know if it was possible. He knew the way he was going about it was cruel but it wasn’t like he had another method.
If he succeeded, would this new race praise him or condemn him for his actions? Did he even care? He supposed he would be a bit upset to learn his creation hated him. But the answers alone might be worth the trouble.
Those thoughts were set aside for later though. He ran all three successful spells through his mind until they were burned into his memory. Normally this wouldn’t be necessary, but he hadn’t worked with these spells enough yet and didn’t want to forget an important detail. After he was happy that he could recall them in perfect detail, it was time to move on to quick casting.
He started by picturing the spell in his mind. For this test, he used the simple Hidden from Death spell as it didn’t require any physical component to activate. While he could recall the spell in exacting detail, that wasn’t what he was attempting to do. He wanted to physically picture it in his mind. It was easier said than done.
Sweat started to drip down his face as a picture started to appear. Then he felt something pop. A moment later he woke up on the floor, a pool of blood dripping from his nose. He wiped it away and sighed. “I gave myself an aneurysm, didn’t I?” After cleaning himself up, he started again.
Ten failed attempts later, he decided to call it a stop for tonight. He was starting to suspect that Vincent’s ability to quick cast might be related to his calling. The only evidence he had against that was his spy's report that Donovan could also perform magic without casting.
It was possible the two had similar but different types of quick casting as their callings, being father and son. But somehow Norman doubted it. He suspected Donovan’s calling was either his ability to summon those doppelgangers, or his ability to censure/form these contracts of his. This meant either Vincent had quick casting or some other unknown skill as his calling.
It didn’t matter what the kid’s calling was, knowing it wasn’t going to make his job easier. Either way, Norman was going to figure out how to do some version of casting spells without having to form the symbols in the air. That was the bonus of being an undead necromancer. He could fail as many times as he needed to until he got it right or the attempts stopped killing him.
Each day over the next week passed much the same way. He would attempt to form the spell in his mind, only to wake up bloody and start again.
Some would say what he was doing was insane, but he knew differently. Each day was a slight improvement. Unfortunately, he couldn’t spend every waking moment working on the problem. He had a nation to run after all, and his duties in the last week were starting to increase as things changed outside of his control.
Even though he complained about being taken away from his research, he had gotten over his qualms about leading. Now that Ashvale was a trade hub between the Commonwealth and Grothlosburg, his ire toward them had cooled slightly as well.
It helped that the Admiral had asked for a private meeting where he apologized personally for his people's attack on Ashvale and Normenia.
As Norman listened to the story, Admiral Barnes was telling him, it was much as he had expected. A traitor amongst the Admiral’s ranks had fed false information to his Commander and the man had acted without orders. It was just another black mark on Donovan’s record. It seemed the man would stoop to any level to get his desired results. What those were, Norman wasn’t certain.
What had surprised him was Barnes asking him not to attack the Council.
“Um… Why?” he interrupted, confused as to why the Admiral would want that.
With a deep sigh, the man replied. “Politics. While I understand your stance, based on the short history of your country. I’ve been around for decades. Even with how much of a jackass and manipulator Donovan is, there is still a possibility of peace and reconciliation.”
Norman bristled at the thought, but the man held his hand up to forestall any argument. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but nobody wants a never-ending war. Even with your ability to revive our soldiers. Thank you for that by the way.” Norman nodded. “Even with that, people grow tired of fighting and killing. It also weakens everyone involved. This isn’t like when we had an entire country behind us. Sure some technology advances during times of conflict but the regular people are left to suffer.”
He weighed the Admiral’s words for a bit before responding. Norman could certainly understand the sentiment behind them. He felt much the same way. That didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping a close eye on the Council. In recent weeks, it seemed like they had entirely shifted focus from attacking to diplomacy. It took a bit of digging by his Wraiths to find this out and the reason why. Turns out Donovan had a portal specialist on his payroll and the man was going around and connecting former States to this network.
The end goal wasn’t clear but Norman could surmise based on what he knew. He likely wanted to expand the Council’s influence and ideals into these new states. It was also very telling that the man completely ignored any non-human, non-former US state in this network. Norman knew for a fact that there was a section of Brazil one zone north of California. Yet there had been no attempt to reach out to them by the Council. More information would need to be gathered before he would know for sure what the man’s plan was.
He turned toward the Admiral. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect to hear something like this from you.”
The man snorted slightly before setting down his fruity drink. “Because I’m in the military?”
“Well, yes.”
“When I got started in the Navy, I never wanted to be a career officer. But after seeing the corruption and waste at the top and in the government, I wanted to try and change that.”
Going by the man’s tired expression, he could guess how well that went. “So why not take over as the leader of the Commonwealth? You must know the American government isn’t coming back by now.”
“I will refer you back to my previous statement. I wanted to change it, not become part of the problem. I also would not make a good civilian leader. Besides, the people need a voice.”
Norman wasn’t sure he agreed with the man, but he didn’t say as much out loud. He was sure the Admiral had his reasons. As for what was happening with the Council. Apparently, they were going to have another round of cease-fire talks. With Gail and J-son out of the picture, the other Councilors were more willing to come to some agreement.
It was the other reason Barnes had approached him for the private meeting. They needed neutral grounds to ensure nothing happened. Norman had been loath to agree to a second meeting. But he eventually agreed and signed a document indicating he would ensure the survival and return – in the same condition as they arrived – of anyone harmed or killed during this meeting. So long as they followed the rules. He had added that last part to ensure there were no more shenanigans like last time.
Everyone would also be arriving via teleportation this time around, thanks to Grobert having set up two separate teleporters outside of California. One was in the lands that the jorik-controlled but whatever subset of that race lived there, they kept to themselves. The other just so happened to be a tiny splinter of land that belonged to the Great Desert of the Alacala. Or more accurately, the nomads. Neither group had any use for that tiny bit of land but Norman ensured he paid them for it anyway to prevent hurt feelings.
It was now a small oasis after his earth mages and Grobert had created a rock outcropping and teleporter at that location. While the merchants didn’t travel out that far, the nomads loved it. They also teleported into Ashvale to trade on occasion.
Each passing month increased Ashvale and Normenia’s importance and value as it became the trade hub for an entire area. But where there is wealth, there are those who believe it should be theirs.
The Flaming Skull spell only lasted for about five minutes before it burned itself up with its own flames. Did that mean it was alive? Norman wasn’t sure
Another thing he noticed was the flames it had spewed about the room were still burning. The shadows cast by the cages were noticeably smaller though, flickering and shrinking as the strange flames consumed them. And as soon as there were no more shadows, the flames went out.
It was odd watching shadows shrink and then disappear, only for them to reappear the next instant, looking completely normal. His next test involved turning off the lights. That had been a bad idea. The skull released its flaming breath, and the flame was slightly more visible in the pitch dark as the edges of the fire glowed a ghostly white. Although it wasn’t actual light. It didn’t diminish the darkness or push back the shadows but it was still visible. Norman had no clue how that worked.
The problem came with the fact that it just continued to spread to any shadow that touched the burning portion. Which was everything in the room now that the lights were off. It still didn’t damage anything physical, but it destroyed everything living it touched and Norman was forced to quickly turn the lights back on to get it under control. If he ever wanted to clear out the jungle, all he needed to do was wait until dusk and set this spell loose. That seemed like something a sociopath would do though. He was glad this wasn’t one of the spells he had come up with back when he recorded things in his grimoire. The thought of Vincent or another Necromancer with zero conscience getting their hands on something so destructive was terrifying.
He set that spell aside for more experimentation later while he prepped his third and final spell. This one was a version of Plague Ray. As with the first two spells, he loosened up his fingers and began to cast. The glittering red lines and symbols began to take shape and he soon finished the spell, leaving a pulsing red orb of twisting magical lines suspended in the air. He admired his handiwork for a moment.
Once the moment passed, Norman reached into his pocket and produced a long thin bone. He stuck the end of it into the spell circle. With a whoosh of air and an audible snap, the spell compressed down onto the tip of the bone, making the end take on a cracked and glowing appearance like it had been stuck in a fire.
Even as he watched, the cracks slowly spread down the length of the bone. That was enough to let him know the spell anchor would not last long. He would need to use a more substantial bone if he wanted a longer-lasting anchor. But he didn’t need it to last long for this test. He pointed the bone wand at a new cage of animals and pressed his intent into the bone. Another new trick he had learned instead of having to crush the bone to release the spell.
It resisted slightly but after a moment, the bone shattered in his hand and a ray of light-absorbing blackness speared out and struck one of the creatures. Visually, the spell didn’t look much different than the original version. Except perhaps the beam being an even darker black than before. Effect wise…
The small critter took on a dark hue, almost looking desaturated, before it completely blackened. As it died and fell over, its husk of a body cracked and fell apart, sending a spray of black dust into the air. As soon as a particle of this dust touched another living creature, that too turned black and perpetuated the spell. Soon all that was left of the dozen or so creatures in the room was a haze of the deadly particles left floating on the air.
He timed how long these particles remained aloft, but gave up after an hour when the particles had yet to settle Not willing to wait any longer, he brought out some more test subjects to see if the spell had a radial limit.
It turned out that after forty or so feet, the spell stopped killing and spreading. It was good there was a limit to the spell's effect. Otherwise, Lingering Death would be far more dangerous than any of his other spells.
As it was, it would make for a very good area of denial spell. Even more potent than his Death Fog. He watched it carefully for two hours before he saw the first particles start to settle on the ground. The only reason he could differentiate these from the others was that they had lost some of their light-absorbent properties and now looked like black soot instead of the eye-searing black of the active particles.
A few minutes later more of the particles dropped. But it was another full hour or more before the last ones settled to the ground. It seemed the spell lasted around two hours, but each victim could extend that duration another two hours after their death.
If there was a steady stream of targets, the spell was effectively permanent. Since it wasn’t pulling on his mana after it was initially activated, Norman figured it must be consuming the life force to sustain itself.
It was an interesting spell with plenty of applications. Just none that Norman required at the moment. He quickly cleaned up the mess and stored a sample of the dust for study before reviving all of the creatures and putting them back in Stasis.
He should really get a fresh batch of test subjects, as these had been subjected to more tests than even the terror birds but he was also conducting a separate study on the effects of prolonged spell exposure and repeated revival. The purpose of that study was to see if true intelligence could be created. Princess and the Terror Birds were smart. But he wanted to see if he could make another intelligent race like the gron, jorik, or ratar, not just another mana beast.
Norman didn’t really have any good reason to do this. Other than that he wanted to know if it was possible. He knew the way he was going about it was cruel but it wasn’t like he had another method.
If he succeeded, would this new race praise him or condemn him for his actions? Did he even care? He supposed he would be a bit upset to learn his creation hated him. But the answers alone might be worth the trouble.
Those thoughts were set aside for later though. He ran all three successful spells through his mind until they were burned into his memory. Normally this wouldn’t be necessary, but he hadn’t worked with these spells enough yet and didn’t want to forget an important detail. After he was happy that he could recall them in perfect detail, it was time to move on to quick casting.
He started by picturing the spell in his mind. For this test, he used the simple Hidden from Death spell as it didn’t require any physical component to activate. While he could recall the spell in exacting detail, that wasn’t what he was attempting to do. He wanted to physically picture it in his mind. It was easier said than done.
Sweat started to drip down his face as a picture started to appear. Then he felt something pop. A moment later he woke up on the floor, a pool of blood dripping from his nose. He wiped it away and sighed. “I gave myself an aneurysm, didn’t I?” After cleaning himself up, he started again.
Ten failed attempts later, he decided to call it a stop for tonight. He was starting to suspect that Vincent’s ability to quick cast might be related to his calling. The only evidence he had against that was his spy's report that Donovan could also perform magic without casting.
It was possible the two had similar but different types of quick casting as their callings, being father and son. But somehow Norman doubted it. He suspected Donovan’s calling was either his ability to summon those doppelgangers, or his ability to censure/form these contracts of his. This meant either Vincent had quick casting or some other unknown skill as his calling.
It didn’t matter what the kid’s calling was, knowing it wasn’t going to make his job easier. Either way, Norman was going to figure out how to do some version of casting spells without having to form the symbols in the air. That was the bonus of being an undead necromancer. He could fail as many times as he needed to until he got it right or the attempts stopped killing him.
Each day over the next week passed much the same way. He would attempt to form the spell in his mind, only to wake up bloody and start again.
Some would say what he was doing was insane, but he knew differently. Each day was a slight improvement. Unfortunately, he couldn’t spend every waking moment working on the problem. He had a nation to run after all, and his duties in the last week were starting to increase as things changed outside of his control.
Even though he complained about being taken away from his research, he had gotten over his qualms about leading. Now that Ashvale was a trade hub between the Commonwealth and Grothlosburg, his ire toward them had cooled slightly as well.
It helped that the Admiral had asked for a private meeting where he apologized personally for his people's attack on Ashvale and Normenia.
As Norman listened to the story, Admiral Barnes was telling him, it was much as he had expected. A traitor amongst the Admiral’s ranks had fed false information to his Commander and the man had acted without orders. It was just another black mark on Donovan’s record. It seemed the man would stoop to any level to get his desired results. What those were, Norman wasn’t certain.
What had surprised him was Barnes asking him not to attack the Council.
“Um… Why?” he interrupted, confused as to why the Admiral would want that.
With a deep sigh, the man replied. “Politics. While I understand your stance, based on the short history of your country. I’ve been around for decades. Even with how much of a jackass and manipulator Donovan is, there is still a possibility of peace and reconciliation.”
Norman bristled at the thought, but the man held his hand up to forestall any argument. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but nobody wants a never-ending war. Even with your ability to revive our soldiers. Thank you for that by the way.” Norman nodded. “Even with that, people grow tired of fighting and killing. It also weakens everyone involved. This isn’t like when we had an entire country behind us. Sure some technology advances during times of conflict but the regular people are left to suffer.”
He weighed the Admiral’s words for a bit before responding. Norman could certainly understand the sentiment behind them. He felt much the same way. That didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping a close eye on the Council. In recent weeks, it seemed like they had entirely shifted focus from attacking to diplomacy. It took a bit of digging by his Wraiths to find this out and the reason why. Turns out Donovan had a portal specialist on his payroll and the man was going around and connecting former States to this network.
The end goal wasn’t clear but Norman could surmise based on what he knew. He likely wanted to expand the Council’s influence and ideals into these new states. It was also very telling that the man completely ignored any non-human, non-former US state in this network. Norman knew for a fact that there was a section of Brazil one zone north of California. Yet there had been no attempt to reach out to them by the Council. More information would need to be gathered before he would know for sure what the man’s plan was.
He turned toward the Admiral. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect to hear something like this from you.”
The man snorted slightly before setting down his fruity drink. “Because I’m in the military?”
“Well, yes.”
“When I got started in the Navy, I never wanted to be a career officer. But after seeing the corruption and waste at the top and in the government, I wanted to try and change that.”
Going by the man’s tired expression, he could guess how well that went. “So why not take over as the leader of the Commonwealth? You must know the American government isn’t coming back by now.”
“I will refer you back to my previous statement. I wanted to change it, not become part of the problem. I also would not make a good civilian leader. Besides, the people need a voice.”
Norman wasn’t sure he agreed with the man, but he didn’t say as much out loud. He was sure the Admiral had his reasons. As for what was happening with the Council. Apparently, they were going to have another round of cease-fire talks. With Gail and J-son out of the picture, the other Councilors were more willing to come to some agreement.
It was the other reason Barnes had approached him for the private meeting. They needed neutral grounds to ensure nothing happened. Norman had been loath to agree to a second meeting. But he eventually agreed and signed a document indicating he would ensure the survival and return – in the same condition as they arrived – of anyone harmed or killed during this meeting. So long as they followed the rules. He had added that last part to ensure there were no more shenanigans like last time.
Everyone would also be arriving via teleportation this time around, thanks to Grobert having set up two separate teleporters outside of California. One was in the lands that the jorik-controlled but whatever subset of that race lived there, they kept to themselves. The other just so happened to be a tiny splinter of land that belonged to the Great Desert of the Alacala. Or more accurately, the nomads. Neither group had any use for that tiny bit of land but Norman ensured he paid them for it anyway to prevent hurt feelings.
It was now a small oasis after his earth mages and Grobert had created a rock outcropping and teleporter at that location. While the merchants didn’t travel out that far, the nomads loved it. They also teleported into Ashvale to trade on occasion.
Each passing month increased Ashvale and Normenia’s importance and value as it became the trade hub for an entire area. But where there is wealth, there are those who believe it should be theirs.
