BoD - Raise Dead pt 1 (Patreon)

Sorry folks, been a hard day writing. Part two coming tomorrow.

The cave barely deserved the name, only ten metres deep from the narrow entrance, but it provided the space he needed for his work sheltered from the environment. Luckily he'd caught a glimpse of the entrance behind a split boulder as he was walking passed. The star wolf pointedly refused to enter first no matter how it was cajoled so he crept in, a magick bolt held at the ready just in case, but the inside was surprisingly roomy and blessedly free from rift-kin. A few light spells later and he had a dark, damp hole in the ground he could use for his work.

I suppose it's fitting, in a way.

Necromancers were probably forced to operate in these sorts of conditions whenever they popped up, even so, this was a still a downgrade from his first workspace.

Which was a tomb.

How is it even possible to downgrade from a tomb? Yet he'd managed it somehow. With a weary sigh he slung his pack off his shoulders and slumped onto the uneven floor. With a groan tried to rub some life back into his legs without success before he drank what little remained of his water and chewed on some preserved meat. It'd taken the better part of the remaining sunlight to gather the materials that he needed and store them here. The tension from travelling under constant threat of attack, his fear of discovery by a slayer team, his existing fatigue from being on patrol, had all built up to the point his chest felt constricted from the stress. Even worse was the physical fatigue. Once again he thanked the Unseen for the constitution he gained from both the Necromancer and Anathema classes. Without it he'd have collapsed days ago.

No rest for the wicked, as father would say. Better get back to it.

Muscles creaked as he crawled over to his pack and removed the last few bones he needed. With great care, he carried them to the only flat section within this hollow, where two skeletons had been laid out side by side. The two sets of remains had been the closest to complete he could find while staying as far as possible from the rifts. It was frustrating that he still didn't have an accurate picture of the exact bones and their placement in the human body, which was a glaring lapse that he had to correct as soon as possible. No matter how good he became and Bone Stitching or casting Raise Dead, his minions would still perform poorly if they were missing parts that they needed to move properly.

It grated on him immensely that he was still so poor at his craft. He had sacrificed everything for it, he had to be as close to perfect as it was humanly possible to be, otherwise he would fail. The standards that his parents had reached were impossibly high, but if he didn't aim to climb that high, then he might as well surrender himself now and not go through all this pain.

In the dim light of the cave, Tyron grit his teeth and placed the bones as best he could before straightening and examining his work. As far as he could tell, the skeletons were complete, but he couldn't be sure. No matter what he wanted, things weren't going to get better than this, so he leaned forward once more, his fingers flexing as ghostly strings of magick began to dangle from his fingertips.

It was painstaking work and Tyron was forced to take regular breaks to massage his fingers and refocus his mind. It took him six hours to complete it and by the end he was filled with mixed emotions. The quality of the threads may have improved since last time, but his condition was so poor that he felt the work wasn't up to standard. He had the skills and the levels now to produce a much finer result, but he was so pressed for time. He bit his lip hard before he was finally able to push his emotions down. This wasn't the time, he needed a cool head if he was going to succeed. He had a golden opportunity in front of him and if he squandered it there likely wouldn't be another.

It was close to the middle of the night by this time so he wrapped his cloak around himself and grabbed his pack for use as a pillow. The stone floor was uncomfortable to say the least and despite his shattering fatigue, he couldn't sleep knowing the rift-kin roamed outside of the cave, even if he had the star wolf watching over him.

As usual, he was forced to cast magick on himself to rest, even if only for a few hours.

It was still before dawn when he woke and despite the protests of his muscles or the pounding in his head, he pushed himself to standing with an eager smile on his face.

"Time for magick. Time for minions," he chuckled to himself before he stumbled and caught himself on the uneven floor.

He had a new series of aches and pains where stones had jabbed into his sides and hip as he slept but he did his best to ignore them as he rummaged in his pack for his notebook. He conjured a few fresh globes of light and began to flick through the diagrams, invocation patters and various theories he'd scratched across the pages. He eyes took it all in before he snapped the volume shut and carefully replaced it in his pack. It was time.

He strode forward with confidence and stood at the head of the first skeleton. He paused, took a breath and then raised his hands before he began to speak.

He wished he had more time. He wished he could have conducted more research on how to infuse the bones with magick, or investigated the strange resonance they exhibited, but he couldn't. He only had another day before Dove's summon would vanish and he would be left on his own. In order to protect himself from that point on, he had to have minions!

The worlds rolled sonorously from his mouth as he hands moved in broad gestures. He hadn't been wasting his time as he waited on the side of Victory Road, he'd spent every quiet moment thinking of only one thing, Raise Dead. His signature magick, his golden ticket. He had to make every improvement he possibly could.

For an hour he cast, without pause, straining every bit of arcane energy within himself and pouring all of it into the bones on the cave floor in front of him until finally the spell was complete. A dark purple light grew within the hollow eyes of the skull and once again he felt that tenuous connection form between himself and another entity, servant to his will.

"Finally," he wearily sighed, a slight smile edging the corners of his mouth.

He paused to catch his breath and stretch before he pulled out a piece of mage candy and popped it in his mouth. He was running low of the precious stuff and couldn't afford to replace what little he had, but he needed to squeeze as much work into the next day as he possibly could. He sat and rested for ten minutes before he began the second cast, utilising all of his focus and magick to perform Raise Dead once more, the glittering form of the star wolf watching with unblinking eyes from the side.

When the cast was complete, Tyron collapsed to his knees, drained of all his reserves. He drew ragged breaths into his dry and burning throat, allowing the now empty chunk of arcane crystal to fall from his mouth to the cave floor. He extended a shaking hand and gathered it up. No need to leave any evidence of his presence if he didn't have to.

When he could, he pushed himself back to his feet, gathered his pack and slung it back over his shoulder, staggering under the weight of it.

I'm a mess.

His eyes were raw from lack of his sleep, his hands trembled and he rasped with every breath. He really was scraping against his limits, but it would be worth it, after all.

"Rise," he said.

There was no need to say it out loud, the minions would respond to metal commands through the link that they shared, but he felt compelled to speak. The light in the eyes of the undead ignited as they drew on his magick, the bones pulling themselves together and moving with eery silence. With slow, deliberate movements, Tyron drew his sword and passed it to the closest skeleton, the skeletal fingers closed around the hilt and he felt the drain on his reserves increase as it exerted strength to hold the blade aloft.

"Time to head out minions. I need to level up."

Don't talk to the minions, idiot. I'm way too tired.

It was dangerous, but he needed to make the most of his time until the star wolf left him. By the end of the day, he hoped to have retrieved more remains and have fought enough rift-kin to level his Necromancer class to five. Perhaps his first class feat would give him a clearer path forward.

The skeletons staggered out of the cave first and Tyron followed behind, the wolf emerging last of all. The strange group gathered themselves together and made their way out into the woods.