35 || The Necromancers Tome
Thick layers of dirt and stone surrounded them, stretching for miles in every direction they looked.
Sparse scones of fire along the walls were the only thing guiding their path, letting darkness wrap around all it could claim.
Every corner of the Lost Abyss could be reached if one of the tunnels was followed.
Morana was certain one even went to the main city of Wyrith, but Silas had never confirmed her suspicions.
One reason the necromancer loved the tunnels was that they were the perfect place for death. Only a handful of people knew of their existence and they were an unescapable labyrinth if they were discovered. Morana hadn't killed anyone inside them herself, but her boss and his other lackeys had.
Before she had befriended Larsa, the dark halls were the only place for her to get bones.
Morana reached out with her magic, flinging it as far as she could reach, to see if there were any nearby. Her power was tense against her command, a muscle that hadn't been used and atrophied to time. However, a grin grew on her lips when she found more than she expected.
"You know, some people say these tunnels are haunted," she whispered, nudging Damian with her elbow.
"Do you believe in ghosts?" The Fireborn stuck close to her side, making sure he wouldn't lose her in the shadows.
The assassin shrugged. "Sometimes. Especially when I come down here."
Damian stopped in his tracks for a brief moment before continuing forward. "Why do I feel like you're planning something?" She couldn't see his face, but Morana knew she would find narrowed brows if she could.
"Me? Planning something?" She scoffed. "You've never been more wrong in your life.
" Behind her, Morana flicked out her hand to summon everything she could reach.
It took a lot of concentration to wield so many bones at the same time, even more so now that she was out of practice.
Pressure built in her nose, blood threatening to spill, but Damian's reaction would be worth it.
"I don't believe that for a second. If you're trying to scare me, it isn't going to work." He rolled his eyes with an audible laugh.
Morana organised the bones as silently as she could, biting her lip to help her focus.
There were a lot of uncut ones scattered across the tunnels — even a skull for her to use.
The monstrosity she had created was marvellous.
Her skeleton was made of mismatched bones, different in both length and colour depending on which unfortunate victim they came from.
Its jaw hung loose, the hinges having rotted over the years it had been hidden away.
Before the Fireborn could ask any more questions, the necromancer moved its hand so it could tap him on the shoulder. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."
Damian yelped, spinning around and drawing his sword. The steel crashed into the skeleton and sent bones flying in every direction.
"Hey! That's my hard work you just destroyed!" she cried between fits of laughter. With circular movements of her hands, her new friend reformed itself.
"I knew you were scheming something." After realising there was no true danger, the Fireborn shook his head and chuckled too.
Morana held her hands up in defence and the skeleton mimicked her actions. "I had nothing to do with this, I swear."
"Sure you didn't."
"I think I'll name him Skeletony." She wrapped her arm around the skeleton's fragile torso, the bones losing their human shape as she applied pressure to her side hug.
"Is Skeletony going to be staying with us the whole time?" Damian returned his sword to his sheath as they reached the exit they needed to hide at. A thin alcove appeared on their left, providing the perfect spot to squeeze into.
Morana frowned. "I suppose he'll be a liability." With a gentle, steady hand, she pushed Skeletony into the corner of the alcove and removed her magic from his form. All of the bones slid to the ground, forming a giant pile of ammunition if the necromancer needed it.
Stone ground against the floor as the door opened, stealing the laughter from their lungs. Had Morana fucked up? She had gotten them caught because she wanted to have some fun when they needed to take this mission seriously.
The assassin angled herself in front of Damian but, instead of the furious blades she expected, Lilith returned with a hooded cloak drawn over her.
"It's done," she murmured, her crimson eyes watching as the door closed behind her.
"Wait for Silas to leave and then you can do whatever you need to.
And for Gods's sakes, please stay hidden.
I could hear you two from the entrance." With only a further nod, the Vampire navigated her way back through the tunnels to return home.
Hopefully, her potion had worked. If it hadn't, Morana had no clue what they would do.
It wasn't long before the secret, panelled door opened again, the grating sound making gooseflesh race across her arms. Several sets of footsteps emerged into the tunnels with one distinct pair leading the pack.
Silas.
Her boss's cane and limp made him slower than she would have liked.
Yet, despite the bruising that had bloomed across his face where Damian had hit him, she could still tell something was wrong about his demeanour.
His brow twitched with uncontrolled fervour, his teeth gritted together with unfathomable rage.
The veins that bulged from his face were unnatural in every aspect.
It had to be the potion that Lillith had sprayed.
A group of Orcs followed close behind him — hulks of muscle meant to drag her back to a room where Morana would die over and over until she obeyed Silas's commands.
The necromancer readied her bone shards in case they were spotted.
She held her breath and pushed back into the darkness surrounding them.
It wouldn't take much to end it here. Morana could take his life and make everything so much easier.
She could free the rebellion from their suffering and everyone else being controlled by Silas's surplus of information.
But she couldn't bring herself to do it.
They waited for as long as they could, even after the footsteps had faded into the distance and left them in silence, before heading out of the tunnels. Sneaking up the stairs, they rushed into the office and closed the door behind them.
Her boss's office was still how she remembered it.
The small room was full of riches beyond anyone's imagination, as if he were a crow hoarding precious objects.
Her blood still stained the carpet at the entrance from where she had run into some royal guards — into Clove — and returned with a wound in her thigh.
"Don't touch anything unless you really need to. Everything needs to stay in the exact same place we found it in. We can't risk letting something tip Silas off to let him know someone has been in here," Morana warned, her eyes raking over every inch of the room.
She headed straight to the bookshelf and reached for the faux grey book that her boss had stored the Necromancer's Tome in last. Though, as soon as she picked it up, she knew it was too light to be inside. Prying the hardcover open revealed nothing but motes of dust.
"Fuck."
"Where else could it be?" Damian questioned, picking up several other books and shaking them before returning them to their rightful places.
"I don't know. It could be anywhere." Was it even in the office? Had that areshole taken it with him?
Morana joined the Fireborn in scouring through the books.
A few more of them were empty shells, but they still didn't hold the Necromancer's Tome.
She peered underneath the desk in case it had been attached to the bottom only to find emergency weapons strapped there.
It was only when she started rummaging through the drawers did she discover anything interesting.
Amongst scrap papers with symbols drawn on them and oddities of every kind was a shimmering slip of gold.
'Silas Axelas' was scratched into the material with an elegant font, accompanied by square letters below it that read as an invitation.
The words 'royal ball' made her heart drop.
A date and time for a few days were also beside it.
The necromancer scrunched her nose. What would Silas want with a royal ball? How did he even get a direct invitation for it anyway? King Mortas and everyone in the main cities of Wyrith hated his guts.
If her boss was going to make his way to the castle, there was no guessing what he would do to her sister.
She wanted to delve into it deeper, to take the invitation with her and question everyone she could about it, but she didn't have time. They needed to use every moment they had for the Necromancer's Tome.
Damian moved around the office to look for other places to search, but stopped when the floorboards creaked underneath his steps.
He crouched down and tugged at the wooden planks until one of them came loose.
More weapons were stored in the tight space alongside stacks of letters sealed with royal stamps.
The last thing that the Fireborn pulled out was the book they were after.
"You found it!" Morana cheered.
"What would you do without me?" He grinned and handed her the ancient tome.
"I would have torn this place to shreds," she confessed, taking the book to the desk to examine it. Her fingers grazed the front cover, each ridge in its leather binding sending an unwanted chill down her spine.
She truly felt sorry for the poor thing. Morana had felt every ounce of pain it went through every time Silas had been cruel to it and she had a feeling it dreaded its next encounter too. Perhaps it just needed something better.
"I know you and I haven't gotten off to the best start," she began, making eye contact with the two metal circles in the centre of the cover.
"Are you talking to it?" Damian paused as he returned her boss's belongings under the floor.
"What else does it look like I'm doing?" Morana cleared her throat to start again. "I was mean when I was younger, demanding you to open and give me information, but we really need your help now. We need to know every way to break the Necromancer's Curse. Please," she quickly added.
After a moment of silence and the tome remaining motionless, she tugged at the pages. Hope filled her chest when it gave way, but it shattered again when it snapped shut, almost trapping her fingers inside its paper maw.
"So much for being nice," she huffed. "If you don't open and tell us what we need, I'll have to use more harmful methods to convince you."
The Necromancer's Tome flapped open and closed, as if mocking her in response.
"So, now what?" The Fireborn stood behind her, watching the book with unease.
"That contraption that we got from the sorcerer is what Silas is using to force it open. We just need to find it." Morana stood and glanced around the office.
"Did you see it when searching? It wasn't under the floorboards, nor was it on the bookshelf."
She shook her head with gritted teeth. "At least we know where it's not." The office was only small, so where could it be? If it was in the office, that was.
Despite Damian's explanation, the assassin headed back to the books and squinted at the ornaments laid along the shelves.
Strange trinkets from a model of Celnear Castle to a bottle of blood-fuelled fireflies were placed in random positions.
Even a miniature skull that Morana had gifted him when she was younger still remained.
Yet, there wasn't the contraption they needed.
"Up there." The Fireborn pointed to the top of the shelf where dust collected in thick layers. "There's something gold in a jar." He reached up, but he couldn't quite get his fingers around the glass to pull it forward.
Morana jumped in an attempt to grab it, but she couldn't get close.
There was no way she would be able to get the jar if Damian couldn't. She tested her weight on the shelves to climb up and the old wood groaned underneath the pressure.
If she was quick, she could get the jar before the whole bookshelf collapsed.
"Wait." The Fireborn stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder. "I could lift you up instead. I don't want you to get hurt."
The necromancer didn't know how to respond. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish looking for food. Who was she to refuse him? "Sure."
Damian's hands tightly gripped her waist and she couldn't deny that she liked the feeling of them there. "Are you ready?"
"Never been readier," she replied with a blush spreading from the tips of her ears to her cheeks.
The prince lifted her up with ease and Morana swiped the jar as soon as it came into reach.
"It's here." She unscrewed the lid while she was still in his arms, securing the golden star.
The temptation to put the jar back on top of the bookshelf so she had an excuse for Damian to lift her again passed through her mind, but she batted it away.
When her feet were back on the floor, she placed it on a lower one instead.
"Thank you." She savoured his touch for a moment longer before heading back to the desk. "I'll give you one last chance to open your pages. Otherwise, you know what happens next."
The Necromancer's Tome juddered as it considered its options then, with a ripple of its spine, it flicked through itself until it landed at the back of the book.
Only a few pages moved to let her read them, the rest were still stuck as if welded together with steel.
While there were a few diagrams and pictures nestled into the text with smudged ink, it all consisted of symbols she couldn't read.
"What is this meant to be?" Silas had mentioned he was getting a translator.
Had he succeeded in that yet? There was no way either of them were reading anything without one.
"Please. Is there anything you can show me that we can understand?
" She tried pleading again, in case somehow the tome would magically change the language it was written in, but it didn't budge.
"Fine," she sighed. "You leave me no choice.
" Morana pressed the gemstone in the centre of the contraption and the corners of the star sprang open into legs.
She lined up the sharp needles with the book and pressed them into the leather.
"Sorry." The assassin winced as she dug them deeper into the cover and pages.
Cries of pain swallowed her whole — ancient begging with hundred of voices spiralling in her ears.
When they finally stopped, the tome slackened, letting its pages be pulled apart without attempting to bite anyone's fingers off.
The book was filled with history that had long been forgotten to Wyrith — history and information about her people.
Sketches of bones and magic sigils lined the columns, dancing around the unreadable text, but that wasn't the only thing.
The main scripture was still symbols from the island's founding years, but someone had left notes along the edges too.
Notes in the common tongue they could read.
It couldn't have been Silas who left them as the handwriting didn't match in the slightest. Who else had the Necromancer's Tome before him?
'The curse can break if the original caster dies' but the original caster is already dead? Read the first note. Whoever the previous reader was had just as much luck as they did.
Morana continued, tracing the words with her nail. Twins won't die unless one kills the other. It's vital for the curse. The twins will be immortal until the curse is broken.
"What did you find?" Damian questioned as she leaned back in Silas's chair.
"I'm not as immortal as I seem." The necromancer's fist clenched, unable to decipher if that was a good or bad thing. "Illy won't be able to die either unless it's by my hand." While that was new information, it still didn't help them get any closer to breaking the curse without harming her sister.
The Fireborn leaned in close, reading the notes for himself. "The original caster of the curse... maybe we need to look into the previous twin queens?" he suggested.
"That could be an option, but there aren't many places to get that information anymore." Morana frowned.
"Not many sounds better than none at all."
"Even if it's locked away in Celnaer Castle?"
"That would be an issue," he hummed, turning through the pages. "Are there any other notes?"
"Not that I could find. It's like whoever was looking through this stopped halfway, or even a quarter of the way through.
" Perhaps that was when Silas got his hands on the Necromancer's Tome.
The question that lingered in Morana's mind now was how had the previous owner been able to read and open the tome themselves?
They hadn't had a device specifically made for the purpose of opening it, so it had to have trusted them.
Damian barely moved his hand away in time before the tome snapped shut. The gold contraption shattered, forcing them to shield their eyes from the burst that scattered debris in every direction.
"No! We were just getting to what we needed!" Morana grabbed the Necromancer's Tome and shook it, using the desk to leverage her weight to pull it back open, but it was no use. This was their one hope at saving the island and it had been snatched from them. "What happened?"
"Shit. It's been a week already," Damian realised.
"What do you mean?"
"The sorcerer said that the contraption would break if we didn't bring him a Dragon's Scale within a week, and we didn't. I was so occupied with your death and laying low that it completely slipped my mind." He raked a hand through his ivory hair.
Morana scooped up the tome and observed the new destruction around them. Splinters of metal were embedded in the desk, walls and floor of the office. Shimmering dust coated every surface, too. The only part left intact was the gemstone that had once sat in the middle of it.
"We've spent enough time here already, we need to leave." And there would be no chance of them cleaning up the mess before Silas returned.
"We'll find another way to open it." The Fireborn nodded as he thought through a plan. "Or maybe we could take it directly to the sorcerer? Tell him that we aren't with Silas anymore and ask for his help."
The necromancer secured the gemstone and tucked it into her pocket. "We'll get answers, one way or another."