Kapitel 17: Seventeen
The bonfire of the ritual burned on through until near close to midnight, when the Moon of Seris and the glowing white of the visible moon shone high overhead, illuminating the town in an unsettling light.
The prayers of the townsfolk continued for a short time past that, but even their fevered chanting came to an end eventually.
Disturbed still by all they'd seen and heard, the party continued speaking deep into the night, discussing the lies of the priest Majni and their next step. Vaen was gone, and the plans for what to do next had only just begun between Gemma and Ezekiel. Azael and Vanessa would need to be factored in, as well as Taniel, if she decided to join them.
As a Songstress, Taniel had no ties to any specific church under normal circumstances, and she was on her pilgrimage, so it was her responsibility to travel where she saw fit, establishing lodging and connections throughout the land.
Even with that, Azael was concerned about Majni attempting to coerce her into staying, leveraging some unknown information to keep her here where he could make use of her growing power.
A deep discomfort slowly grew in Ezekiel, bolstered by the twisted light shining into the room and further reinforced by the abrupt silence as the prayers ended. Something had changed, ever so subtly, barely registering to him, though the feeling built along with his discomfort.
It was like a familiar tune, a sorrowful nostalgia that rang a bell somewhere within his memory, hollow and painful. For long minutes the exact melody eluded him, nagging along the corners of his mind, demanding attention but avoiding direct focus, a slippery slope that trapped him along its icy paths.
Then without warning it struck him, a bolt of lightning that decimated the slide of memory with catastrophic power.
All around them the air was filled with the gentle and unrelenting energy of Necromantic magic, its twisted honesty revealing the dead to light. His unease changed near instantly to a low and powerful distaste, followed by a need to find the source.
Leaping up from the bed, he dashed out of the room and into the hall only to see Anja, the innkeeper's wife, standing with a blank expression directly across the doorway to their room. Though she was staring at their door, it seemed as though she were looking somewhere far away from the little town of Covold, glimpsing deep within the beyond.
"Necromancy," Ezekiel growled.
Gemma followed shortly and said, "You don't think they're here, do you?"
Shaking his head, Ezekiel pointed and said, "She's still alive. If they were here, everyone would already be dead and gathering in the town square."
"There aren't very many necromancers, Ezekiel," Gemma whispered, concern creeping into her words.
Slowly moving away from the door, keeping his eyes on Anja, Ezekiel whispered, "It could be someone who found one of the old books. There are still quite a few that haven't been found and archived within the Library."
"So not a necromancer…just…"
"A fool," he finished for her.
A shot blasted out from the room and struck Anja in the center of her forehead and Azael walked slowly into the hall, his gun glowing gently in the darkness.
"It was too late for her," he said, his voice a growl.
"You know the spell," Ezekiel asked, looking emotionlessly at the dead woman.
"Its a remarkably difficult spell to cast that was co-opted by a flight of the knights, The Wings of Vaerl," Azael said, his voice strained.
Ezekiel's eyes narrowed and he turned to leave the inn.
Necromancy wasn't inherently evil, despite what it might seem to be to the average person. True Necromancy manipulated the body, or whatever was left of it, to the ends of the caster, and could be used to set limbs, strengthen companions and even find and remove the remains of a person whose corpse might be inaccessible otherwise.
The problem came with those who tended to be drawn to the misunderstood craft, and with the explosive growth of the Church and their mandates in relation to the dead, Necromancy was often the tool of those with less than honorable intention.
The harsh view of the Church in regards to magic meant that very few delved properly into more esoteric arts, leaving those who didn't care about law or the greater good to dabble where their dirtied hands could only do evil.
That the Church was using a Necromantic spell to some end raised questions in Ezekiel's mind, but the priority was finding the caster.
The party reached the entryway of the inn only to find the energy slowly ebbing away, whatever goal its use intended accomplished.
As the spell ended, the light of the Moon of Seris revealed a dozen townsfolk slumping to the ground, completely alone in the darkness of the night.
"None of the Wings are here," Azael said, deep in thought.
Seemingly genuinely panicked, and much to the party's surprise, was Majni, running from person to person, trying fruitlessly to get them to awaken from whatever had possessed them.
"They're gone," Azael whispered, walking to the priest and putting a hand on his shoulder gently.
"But…they're innocent," Majni spoke, his voice cracking.
The people lay on the ground lifelessly, their bodies slowly changing to a smooth white substance that looked similar to porcelain.
Ezekiel's breath caught in his throat and he realized he recognized this spell, something he'd seen long ago used against a horde of bandits who'd found their way to a town hidden in the shade of a cliffside.
"We must wipe out the wicked wherever we find them, son, even if it means the sacrifice of the good," his father said, a grim expression on his face.
"But they're not doing anything wrong," Ezekiel said, his small hands gripping the side of his father's cloak.
"Right now, as hostages, they're tools of these creatures inhabiting human form," his father, Ezriel, said in an icy tone.
Before he could finish the spell, Ezekiel reached out with his bare hands and tears streamed from his eyes as bolts of lightning flashed from the sky and struck the bandits, burning their bodies through to the core and killing them instantly.
The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the townspeople he'd saved screamed and ran, leaving Ezekiel wondering if they were more afraid of him than they'd been the bandits.
Magic of such power and scope was virtually unheard of to people outside of the Valley of Exiles, generally only seen wielded by the strongest of monsters.
"Very few even among our own people are capable of such a display, my son," Ezriel started, "you are the family head for a reason, I suppose."
The weight of the wand he'd never needed sat heavily on his waist, holding him in place as his father raised his hand and the specially designed magic enhancers on his fingers glowed bright white in the storm that was forming from Ezekiel's spell.
The townspeople fell to their knees as their legs changed to porcelain, shattering under the weight of their own bodies.
Screams of pain and terror erupted from the dying town, filling Ezekiel's head with waking nightmares that cast his father as the monster in his story.
"The point of this excursion was to teach you that sometimes sacrifice is necessary for the greater good," Ezriel said, his voice totally neutral, "and you have enabled me to continue that lesson unabated. These people will tell of the frightening power you wield, describe us to everyone they speak to, endangering the Valley, and our family's safety."
The rapidly changing corpses began to disintegrate and carry along the wind, and Ezriel said, "You may have saved them, but the method you chose damned them. You might as well have struck them down with the bandits, for all the good you've done them."
The porcelain corpse dust danced along the wind, back to the father and son and covered them in a white haze.
"The lesson you can learn from this is subtlety, child. A gentle hand will save more than brash expressions of the wild power within you," Ezriel spoke, his voice elevated as though he were a sage dispensing wisdom on the foolish.
Majni sobbed as he held the stiffened form of one of the villagers, a young woman no more than nineteen.
"She was going to join her father when he returned from Vaen," Majni choked out between wails.
"Vaen is gone," Ezekiel said, the stiff agony of the memory bleeding into his voice.
"What?"
The party turned and looked at Majni, shock racing through them at his question.
"Vaen was destroyed by Sirens," Gemma said, confused at the priest's lack of knowledge.
"I spoke with Taniel just a while ago, and she made no mention of such a thing," Majni spoke firmly.
"You didn't know," Ezekiel asked quietly.
"I would have sent our garrison, had I known something so horrific," Majni shouted.
The person in Majni's arms slowly shattered into fragments as the man's sobs intensified at the loss of so many good people.
Azael knelt and whispered something in the man's ear and his sobs slowly came to an end, his body falling into his former fellow.
Gemma went to ask a question and Azael shook his head as he softly motioned for Majni to stand with him, supporting the priest's weight as best he could.
The party walked back to the church in mutual silence, the mystery of the all-knowing Majni from earlier and the seeming appearance of Ezriel subduing the previously enraged group.
Looking down upon them all, the church practically thrummed with a strange energy that momentarily kept the party from moving forward through its doors.
A high pitched sound pierced Ezekiel's ears, pushing him down to his knees in pain, drawing concerned looks from Gemma and Azael.
"Ezekiel! What's wrong?!"
The old woman was instantly on her young friend, checking his forehead and withdrawing as fast upon nearly being burned from the heat coming from him.
Thuds all around them drew their attention as bodies fell from the air, mangled corpses that seemed to defy the minds attempt to perceive them.
Sirens.
The Choir had returned to their church, it seemed, and something had mangled their newform bodies beyond perception.
Struggling past the pain, Ezekiel managed to look up and saw something…no…someone standing atop the highest spire of the church.
Raising his hand, barely managing to get his arm high enough, Ezekiel pointed to the figure and just as everyone caught sight of it, struggling to see in the darkness, the spires of the church all burst into bright purple and red fire.
A sultry laugh echoed throughout the town as the figure leaned forward and dropped down to the ground, waving its hands and playfully tossing fire at different parts of the church.
The air rippled as she fell, her power so great that its mere presence warped the area around her.
Dark skin and long tightly knit curls trailed behind her, easily as far down as her back, and her eyes glowed a bright and intense crimson in the darkness that trapped the party. Laughing as she spun, spiraling fire around the party so none could escape, the woman fell into a flip that landed her on a statue nearby, looking upon her prey.
The dark night that surrounded the party had no bearing on Ezekiel, able to see by the light of the Moon of Seris.
Pushing past the splitting headache, he leapt almost as soon as she landed, his sword in hand and death in his eyes.
The woman's eyes glittered as her full cheeks lifted in a smile and she met him in midair, flying faster than even he could move.
Before he could react, her hand was in his face and she motioned her finger, gently flicking his forehead, sending him rocketing through the ring of fire and into the church doors, rolling into the entryway.
The corpses of the Sirens burst into flame as the woman chuckled, dropping to the ground and moving with all the grace of a sultry lioness.
Her hips switched from side to side as her well formed legs carried her into the church and to her fallen assailant.
She leaned in, her ample cleavage filling his vision as she motioned to Ezekiel and lifted him from the ground with the merest application of her magical might.
He struggled in her mystic grasp, his refusal to use his magic extending even to escaping this danger, and without his magic, he did stand a chance of stopping her from doing whatever she wanted.
Thick opaque energy filled the doorway as the fire around the party died, freeing them to do as they pleased…except interrupt her intent.
Gemma threw every ounce of power she had in her at the barrier, barely making it ripple under her assault.
Azael and Vanessa shot it with magic and power, accomplishing even less.
Majni looked at the barrier, an expression of horror growing as realization filled him.
"The Freedom of Seris has broken the seal," he whispered.
A piercing laugh filled the air as Ezekiel's body fell to the ground and the barrier blinked out of existence.
"Looks like someone has done his homework," the languid voice responded to the priest.
Leaving the church, the woman looked back at Ezekiel and licked her lips, then returning her attention to Majni, she said, "Your petty attempts to keep me sealed up were never going to last forever."
The spires lit ablaze spread down to the church proper and illuminated the area, allowing the party to see her tight fitting outfit, black with red and white lace accents, a garment befitting royalty.
Her skirt bounced as she gently stepped into the air, defying gravity and belief as she moved, sitting back on the statue she'd landed on.
Ezekiel came hobbling out of the church, the World Seed glowing bright white in the darkness.
"See, I told you that you'd be juuuust fine," the woman said in a playful sing-song voice.
"Screw off," he said, a dark expression on his face.
She giggled and said, "You're gonna be fun."
Azael raised his gun and she rolled her eyes as she made a small motion with her hand, sending the weapon flying to the ground.
"So barbaric," she proclaimed.
"What do you want, Demon," Majni shouted angrily.
She gasped in mock offense and said, "And you're just rude!"
Crossing her arms in a playful anger, she humphed and said, "Girls just wanna have fun."
Before anyone could respond to her, bright white and black light flashed vertically around her and she disappeared, leaving the party with a burning church and more questions and fears than they'd had before they'd left the inn.
Without skipping a beat, Majni said, "I need to tell her Holiness about this!"
Looking at the party, holding his gaze on Gemma, he asked, "Can I count on you to deliver this information to the Holy City?"
Ezekiel nodded, practically falling to the ground from pain, and Gemma cast a glance to Azael, who was picking up and cleaning his gun.
"I was going to ask to go anyway," he said, grimacing as the gun sparked along one of its rune pathways.
"Looks like you've got us again," Gemma said.
"I don't know how to pay you," Majni started, but Ezekiel cut him off.
"Don't worry about it."
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