Chapter B3C55 - A Place of my Own

Chapter B3C55 - A Place of my Own

As it turned out, nothing happened. Tyron haphazardly piled the bones into the recess and nothing at all occurred. He even utilised the magick-eye spell to see if there were any change in the energy, but there was nothing. Curiously, the bones didn’t appear to be taking in the ambient Death Magick either, which they definitely should have been.

Curious, Tyron took the time to purge the bones of any built up magick using a mat he had designed for this purpose. Even when the bones were totally free from arcane energy, they still refused to take anything in. Curious.

Interested to see the difference, he turned to his existing minion waiting by the door and carefully examined it. It turned out this undead was taking in energy; a steady flow of Death Magick infused its bones, joining the already abundant energy contained within. The conduit placed within its ribcage seemed to act as a doorway or opening, allowing even more of the magick to seep inside, infusing the enchantments woven into the minion, then infusing into the bones and weaving that made up the creature’s body.

Was it helping or hurting the minion? Perhaps neither? As far as he understood, there was a saturation limit for undead flesh and bone, a point beyond which they wouldn’t take in any more energy. Each of his minions should have reached that point, especially now, after such a long time connected to the conduit network, drawing in a steady flow of death energy.

Perhaps something different was happening here? Or was it a consequence of the purity and density of this arcane energy? Again, as far as he understood, energy was just energy. The richness... or abundance... or quality, shouldn’t matter. Quality wasn’t even a property of magickal energy! Yet... his skeleton was absorbing energy.

For three hours, he watched and documented the changes as more and more energy accumulated inside the bones of the skeleton, beyond the point he had previously considered ‘fully saturated’. Eventually, after about two and half hours, the skeleton no longer took in more Death Magick. It stood, as it would on the outside, not consuming energy, or taking any in. Its cores were full, its bones were full.

Once he was sure nothing more was coming in, and that the skeleton appeared to be stable, he ordered it to run laps around the chamber. It seemed faintly ridiculous, watching a skeleton run in circles. The relatively faint tak tak tak of the bones against the stone resonated against the walls as the undead mindlessly and repetitively ran.

He was attempting to drain the creature of its energy, but as time wore on, he realised he couldn’t. The array, combined with what was flowing into the bones, was simply too much energy. His minion was drawing in more than it was using.

Tyron frowned.

Interested to see what would happen, he took the minion outside of the Ossuary and back to the mountain. Standing still, the undead began to lose energy, leaking it out into the air as the bones began to seek a new equilibrium.New novel chapters are published on

This was a stunning development. Several things had now occurred in succession that the young Necromancer had no explanation for. Far from being discouraged, he was elated. Whenever he encountered something for which his current understanding couldn’t explain, it was a sign that something fundamental in his model was broken. He had to shatter it, and build it up again from the ground up.

Moments like this were what he lived for. Fully unaware of the slight smile that creased his lips or the faintly glazed expression that blossomed in his eyes, Tyron turned back into the Ossuary, mind already abuzz.

Already, so many questions. An energy tolerance level of bones. The capacity to retain the energy absorbed. The behaviour of the energy within the Ossuary. Even if he could solve each of those mysteries, the greatest question of all remained: when those solutions were applied, was there a way to make his undead more powerful?

All his knowledge needed to be bent to that end.

Eager to explore more of the Ossuary’s capacities, he turned his attention back to the inert bones he had left within a recess on the wall.

They remained as he had left them, devoid of any magick at all, resting in a loose pile. Obviously, the Ossuary itself was interfering somehow, since it made no sense that the bones wouldn’t absorb energy. Even in the wild, bones would begin to take in ambient magick, slowly turning it into death energy and sharing it with other remains. Here, in this preposterously rich environment, the bones wouldn’t take in any energy? It was absurd.

The recesses were clearly intended to house a full human skeleton laid out, so that is what he did. Starting with the feet, he carefully sorted the bones and began to put them in their place, moving up the skeleton until at last he put down the skull. The bones were now laid out in the manner he would place them before beginning to work on the threading.

As soon as the skull was in position, Tyron noted a change. Carefully, he stepped back from the recess and cast the magick-eye spell, watching the flow of energy like a hawk. The influx of death magick was immediate. In abundance, it flowed from the altar in the centre of the room, or more accurately, the gap around the base of it, and into the bones.

Now this was another interesting development. If things continued at this pace, the bones would become fully saturated in a matter of hours. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, since it would mean the remains would then begin to form into a wild undead. He frowned. Surely the Ossuary was more than just a place he could efficiently infuse remains with energy. He was already doing that a long time ago. All of his current minions had been infused with death magick and gone as close to full saturation as was possible before they were raised. If this was all these recesses did, then it was a slight time saver, at best.

Dove intercepted him by the cave.

“Worked out what’s going on in there?” he said shortly.

Tyron shook his head.

“Not even remotely. You aren’t the only undead who can absorb more energy in there, but it starts to leak out of my skeletons the moment they leave. For whatever reason, they can’t retain the power.”

Dove placed his hands on his bony hips.

“The same thing happened to me. Whatever extra juice I pulled in was lost when I came out.”

“That’s... interesting. The additional energy my skeletons took in was stored in their bones, which are a natural repository of that energy, but you don’t have any bones. The only part of you which is undead, is your soul. Which would mean...”

“What? That my soul can act as a container for magick?” Dove asked.

The skeleton grew still.

“My soul can be a container for magick,” he said slowly.

Tyron nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted. There was only so much inspiration a mage could take.

Excited, Dove grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him.

“Do you know what this means?! You get it, right? You fucking get it?!”

The Necromancer endured this exuberant treatment.

“Yes. Yes, I get it.”

“If there’s magick mixing with the soul... then... then...!”

“Then a status ritual should be possible. Stop shaking me please.”

Filled with energy, Dove leapt away, dancing an absurd little dance as he flung his bony limbs about, cackling like a madman.

Tyron only sighed, then grinned. An irrepressible urgency was building in the back of his mind and he’d felt it enough times now to recognise it for what it was. It wouldn’t be long now until he lost all sense of time as he threw himself into the work, reaching that obsessive state which had led to his best and greatest breakthroughs. With so many paths in front of him, who knew what he would come up with by the time he was done?