Chapter B2C35 - So Many Bones

Chapter B2C35 - So Many Bones

B2C35 - So Many Bones

“I suppose watching that graveyard wasn’t a completely moronic decision. I might owe that marshal an apology if I ever see him again.”

“Wait. You were watching a graveyard? Why? For me?”

“Yes, it was because of you. I was forced into a stupid stakeout, freezing my balls off in the middle of the night waiting for a Necromancer to show up and start shovelling graves.”

“It was way too dangerous for me to go to such an obvious place for materials back then. The whole reason I was searching for bones in the forest was because I thought I wouldn’t get caught that way.”

“Turns out you were fucking bang on.”Read latest chapters at nov(e)lbin.com Only

“And I mean... why would I do the digging myself?”

Dove had to agree. Tyron had thirty skeletons now, including his four Revenants, and the bulk of them swarmed over the small graveyard, harvesting bones. The kid had the foresight to keep a half dozen shovels in the cart, and now those tools were being put to good use. There was something oddly creepy about skeletons digging up graves, creatures of bones hunting for bones, it felt worse than if it were a person doing it, but they were undeniably effective.

“It’s kind of nice how they don’t get tired,” Dove observed. “I’d be knackered after an hour of solid digging.”

“As long as I don’t run out of magick,” Tyron chuckled.

The Necromancer had kept himself busy while his minions did the dirty work, sorting bones, tossing any that weren’t suitable, sorting them into type, paying particular attention to those he could now turn into bows.

He also examined each set of remains carefully, checking the progress of Death Magick saturation in each. There was at least some accumulation in each of them, but it appeared that there wasn’t enough to spark the ‘sharing’ response he’d seen elsewhere. Or perhaps the graves were too spaced for the phenomenon to occur?

More puzzles to solve.

After removing what he needed to craft weapons, he would have to ensure what he brought with him were complete sets of remains so he could start the process. Saturate them with Magick and prepare to raise them.

With his rapid advancement, he could likely maintain close to forty skeletons right now, alongside his small contingents of ghosts and revenants. With his new archers added into the mix, he was beginning to command his own little army of Undead.

Which was exactly what he’d been aiming for.

“That’s enough, I think,” Tyron sighed as he stood and stretched out his back. “I think we can pack the rest into the cart and get moving. We’ve delayed enough already.”

The small gravesite they’d uncovered, several kilometres from a nearby village, was secluded and quite private, nestled amongst the hills and ravines. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t get found if he stayed long enough. The fact he’d been here was certain to be uncovered eventually, putting any hunters right on his trail.

“Who are you talking to, kid? Better not be the fucking minions.”

Tyron shrugged.

“I’m starting to think maybe it's not so bad to speak my thoughts out loud to them sometimes. It feels strange just to order them around silently all the time.”

“Ah, you have embraced the madness, I see. Make sure you free me before you go fully loopy and start pissing in my head or something.”

“Fine, fine.”

With the skeletons gathered and the materials secured, there was no need to linger. Tyron took his position in the rear of the cart amongst the bags filled with rattling bones, setting Dove on the wooden planks next to him.

“All right, let’s get moving.”

“It’s still weird.”

“Shut up.”

At his mental command, the skeletons, ghosts and revenants that made up his entourage gathered around the cart, some to guard, others to pull, and off they went. It was a grim procession to look upon, but the Necromancer at its heart had no thought for that.

“Time to get to work,” he muttered as he reached for a nearby bag.

“You sure about that, kid? When was the last time you slept?”

“It’s been... a while. But I’m fine. There’s a lot I need to do.”

“That’s not smart, and you know it. Sleep is a weapon.”

“So is time, and I don’t have enough. Stop fussing about me, Dove. If you need to flap your metaphorical gums, then help me with these damn fingers. Do you have any idea how to make a bow?”

“How the fuck would I know -”

Bickering back and forth, the cart continued to roll into the deepening night.

“Yeah, yeah. I suck. Come on, then.”

“Come on... what?”

“Teach me.”

“Teach you?! You want me to unveil the mysteries that I uncovered through my long career with hard practice and the whispers of the Unseen? You think I hand out that information so readily? You think you are worthy of it?”

“I mean... yes? It’s one little eye-spell, how hard can it be?”

The skull spluttered for a minute before he grew silent.

“You know what? For any normal person, I would have laughed in their face had they said something like that. ‘One little eye-spell’, such idiocy! Spells and methods that affect your eyes are fucking difficult! AND dangerous! You can permanently damage yourself if you fuck this stuff up, there are some things your brain simply isn’t meant to handle.”

He thought for a moment.

“But when I think about all the bullshit you’ve been able to do... I can’t help but think you’ll pick this up in a few hours, wondering what I was on about when I said it was difficult.”

Tyron shrugged.

“I’m good at magick. That’s nothing new.”

“Good at magick”, Dove mocked his tone. “You’re good at magick like your father is good at swords. It’s such a moronic, idiotic phrasing, I almost want to give up my ghost right here and now. I think your problem is that your only real metric for measuring magickal ability is your mother. That woman is a freak of nature, the strongest Battlemage in a hundred years. No wonder your sense is so far off.”

Tyron flushed with pride at being compared to his father, and appreciated the compliments to his mother. Even so....

“Try not to call my mother a freak of nature if you can help it, Dove. Since she’s been ordered to hunt me down, you’re likely to meet her at some point.”

“Oh?” the skull sneered. “And what is she going to do? Kill me?”

“If anyone can work out how to annihilate your soul, other than Yor, I think it would be her.”

“... You might be right about that. That would seriously suck. Married women aren’t my thing. Let’s get started then, might as well get this done. After I teach you, I want you to sleep, I fucking mean it, too.”

“... Fine.”

Nearby.

“Things are progressing faster than anticipated,” Yor said. “At this rate, things may spiral out of our control. If that happens, I may not be able to deliver what you asked of me, mistress.”

The vampire stood in the darkness, staring intently at a blood red gem cupped in her palm. Multifaceted, exquisitely cut, and filled with a strange, shifting darkness, the gem glowed with a soft pulsing light that illuminated her perfect features.

“You need not overly concern yourself, child,” a voice emanated from the stone. Refined, aristocratic, and impossibly cold, it was a voice no human could hope to speak with and one they would shudder to hear. “I am confident you have represented our interests well. Regardless of whether the boy comes to our side, he will be sympathetic, and remain in our debt. For now, that is enough.”

Despite the words of reassurance, Yor flinched, a shiver of fear running through her undead veins. The Mistress was consistent in all things, especially her treatment of failure. It was a fate she would do anything to avoid.

“I can still succeed, mistress,” she insisted, her voice firm as she masked her fear. “You requested I bring the boy before you of his own free will, and I will not disappoint you.”

She had wanted to refuse when handed this task. To travel to such a backward place, with barely a trace of her people’s power in order to recruit a nascent, barely qualified mage. It was a fool’s errand, so she had thought.

Once the order had come down from the Mistress herself, there was nothing she could do about it.

Since she had been here... her opinion had begun to change. There was something about this boy, about Tyron. It was his blood. As time passed and he accrued more strength, the scent grew stronger and stronger. He reeked of magick.

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

That voice, already as cool as a winter blizzard, froze even further. Yor bit her lip to still her trembling. Should her voice betray her terror, life in the court would be over.

“I apologise, Mistress.”

Still steady, there was pride in that.

“You will not be punished. Circumstances move outside of your awareness. Whether you succeed or not, the boy will be bound to me in other ways. For now, that is enough.”

“I hear and understand you, Mistress.”

“For now, you will continue to observe. Events are coming to a head on that side, and I expect that the fates will not be kind to the boy. Shield him from what you must, but only at the last. Tempered steel is far more valuable, after all.”

“It will be as you wish.”