The Necromancer (4/4)

The archmage's apprentice looks down at the black mage, who is still rolling on the ground and begging for his life. He looks up and mutters, "I wonder if my possessed weapons are really alive or not...?"

Haalfrin then turns to Kaalhyme's floating spear and orders aloud, "Do what you want with him!"

The boy had done some research on Kaalhyme in the "recent history" section of his master's library, so he knows a few things about the dead Alsa'ree General…

... Apparently, Kaalhyme was famous for hating black mages more than anything… So if Kaalhyme's Will is really alive, then he would probably torture Querry to death... or something.

The spear shudders for a moment but ultimately doesn't move. Haalfrin frowns. "How about now?"

He uses some of the spirit magic his master taught him and strengthens the spirit thread between himself and the Will inside it.

As he does so, Haalfrin felt a familiar sensation stir in his soul. 'Ah. An opportunity to open another gate.'

As he closes his eyes, he concentrates on his May Name inside his soul.

While his mind delves deeper into his soul excitedly, Kaalhyme's spear shudders more violently, then shoots forward and starts stabbing the necromancer.

…It only takes a couple of tries for the Kaalhyme's Will to learn which spots aren't protected by the protective charm, so the prone Querry is mercilessly stabbed over and over again while he screams bloody murder.

Ironically, it's the howling, screeching, and pleas for mercy that startles Haalfrin and jolts him out of his Enlightenment. One moment, he is on the verge of getting his 3rd Name… and the next second, his May Name goes dark again.

Haalfrin breathes heavily with frustration, and he turns his head to Querry. The black mage is groaning like a drunk man who just got knocked over as he's bleeding out. Kaalhyme's spear is still stuck in his shoulder, and it's pinning him to the ground like a nail pinning a board in place.

"IDIOT!" Haalfrin curses at no one in particular. Querry is already dead, so he has no one to vent his anger on.

Once Haalfrin cools his temper, he looks over at the now dead Querry and wonders aloud, "So I suppose whenever I get my May Name, it'll let my weapon Wills think for themselves? That'll be interesting."

If interesting is a code word for "chaotic" and "mayhem", then yes, it will be interesting. (But that's a story for another time.)

Haalfrin then bends down and cuts off Querry's head. "Oh." Remembering something at the last second, he tosses the head away, then rips off his left index finger instead. He wraps the finger up delicately in a napkin, then he stuffs it into his pocket.

As he's packing up some of Querry's more powerful enchantments he could find on his body, Haalfrin glances over at Querry's Will. Instead of flowing into Haalfrin's soul and joining his platoon, the sad little thing rapidly loses its shape and falls apart.

"Ah," Haalfrin mutters, "What a pity." Indeed, Querry was such a wimp that his Will can't even hold its shape.

… Ironic… The Will of the man who wanted to live forever could hardly last two seconds in its first step into true immortality.

Now that the battle is over, Haalfrin pulls out an apple from his bag, sits back against the wall, and waits around for Freyya to show up.

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Sure enough, Freyya appears with her spear and lantern in hand shortly after.

Knowing he'd be having this meeting as soon as he accepted the mission, he pulls out a gift he bought back at the capitol.

"My master gave me these books to read, but I don't like reading. I thought I'd mind as well just give them to you since I see you reading all the time," he says as he hands her a small stack of books from his space bag.

In reality, he had asked his master to recommend books for Freyya. Also, back when he was cleaning her house, Haalfrin took note of the kinds of books she kept lying around; he couldn't read any of the titles, but he guessed what kind of books they were based on the cover pictures.

Freyya holds up the book on top and flips through it a little. It's a book of poems - not a novel with a well-developed story. Even though it's not her type of book, she feels it would be rude to reject the gift.

So, she just puts on a fake smile and accepts it. "Wow, Haalfrin. I'll read this when I get home."

In reality, she'll toss it in a corner and stare guiltily at it whenever she's bored… knowing she'll never have the will to read it, yet feeling at fault for not making use of what was given to her. She even ends up putting a bookmark in the beginning of the book to give the impression that she's reading it... in case Haalfrin ever shows up and asks her about the contents. She can just pretend that she just started it, and that he should ask questions later when she's read some more.

Once Freyya accepts his gift, she heads underground, and he hears her shriek in rage.

Startled, Haalfrin runs down and finds her staring at a huge blob of darkened spirits. "Ah!" She screams again while pulling on her hair, "What the F### did this necromancer do to these spirits!? These spirits are years old, and they still haven't been picked up?"

"Ah," Haalfrin remarks, "Querry was doing a lot of sacrifices and experiments. I think these are the disgruntled spirits."

"I'm not talking about who they are," Freyya grumbles, "These spirits are still golden colored. That means they're still mortal!"

"...What?"

"Living spirits are golden colored, and dead spirits are silver," Freyya explains. "The White Pheonix Felkawyn is what changes them."

"What's the difference between the colors anyway? I mean, why does it matter?" Haalfrin asks.

Freyya puts her hands on her hips and huffs angrily, "It matters a lot! Golden spirits are a lot more dynamic. They're like an animal, which doesn't live long, but can change and move with a lot of freedom. Silver spirits are like a tree; they can live a long time, but they're rooted in place; the only change they can experience is growing bigger, as well as adapting to fixed environmental cycles, like the seasons."

She then points at the enraged spirits, "A silver spirit can stay sane without a body, since they can't become insane unless they already were mad in life." She points with more emphasis. "These poor guys weren't given that luxury."

"So...," Haalfrin asks, "Are you taking them with you?"

Freyya shakes her head. "No, not right now. If I take them to Felkawyn now, they'll become silver spirits and remain insane forever." She looks up and sighs, "Find a suitable environment to rehabilitate them is a LOT of trouble. I wish all necromancers would just die already."

"Can I help with anything?"

"No," Freyya says, "I'll take care of it. It's part of my job, after all."

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Several more minutes pass, and once Freyya has stored the golden spirits into her lantern in a seperate compartment, she announces that her job is done. Haalfrin nods in acknowledgement, then heads out into the forest.

As Haalfrin walks further into the forest, he hears some footsteps behind him.

Haalfrin eyes her from over his shoulder and asks, "Um... Freyya? Why are you coming with me? All your souls are collected, so..."

"Oh, don't mind me," Freyya casually says. "It's just a byproduct of your own Name."

"Huh?"

"Your Yiir Name! It lets you absorb Death Aura and claim it for yourself," the Crow Goddess explains. "Wherever there is Death aura, a death god will be."

Freyya then puts her hand over her heart. "This fragment right here exists in the aura of a violent death. You have so much Death Aura that it takes longer for the Aura of slaughter to dissipate. You didn't notice before because we sat down and had a nice chat over cake."

"...Ah. So when will you be leaving?"

"…Right now. Goodbye!" She waves her hand and abruptly vanishes.

"!!"

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Meanwhile, on the other side of the kingdom, Master Kalastros is reading a letter on his disciple's desk, and he's trembling in rage.

'How DARE the king send my student to the Aurella Forest ALONE!?' He knew Haalfrin would be sent on missions for the kingdom now… but not any like this!

For good reason, Kalastros feels legitimately scared, since he knows that a powerful 3rd Gate mage like himself is waiting there - his senior brother, in fact.

'I don't know how powerful Querry is nowadays,' Kalastros thinks anxiously, 'but the difference in our power wasn't very big 500 years ago when we last met.'

The archmage continues thinking, 'Querry is a vile snake and a liar, but a powerful snake. Is the king just trying to get my student killed? There's no way sending a young, inexperienced 2nd gate mage after an arch necromancer alone is even vaguely appropriate!'

Of course, the king himself isn't behind this last order; Kanus managed to interfere in time to give Haalfrin's next orders before the king could make up his mind about the boy's next mission.

So, feeling worried and not knowing anyone better to blame, Kalastros hops on a magical bird he tamed long ago, and he rides in the direction of the Aurella Forest, cursing the king all the way.

In fact, Kalastros is in such a hurry that he even wastes a lot of his magic making a backwind to help his mount fly faster.

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By the time the archmage arrives at the forest, he immediately sees his disciple walking out of the forest.

"Haalfrin!" the old man calls out as he lands on the ground.

"Ah, master!" Haalfrin calls out in surprise. "Have you come to check on me?"

Kalastros lets out a relieved sigh. "You could say that. Anyway, are you all right?" The archmage then put his hands on the wounds and started to heal them. "Never mind that. I see you're wounded. Did you meet the necromancer living in the forest? How did you manage to escape?"

"Escape?" Haalfrin laughs lightheartedly. Grinning, Haalfrin pulls something out of his pocket. He unwraps a bloodstained napkin, revealing a bloody finger with a black ring on it and a ruby on top.

Of course, Kalastros recognizes the ring at least, as it used to be long to his own teacher.

Realizing the truth, Kalastros chokes on his own saliva and gasps out, "H-how?"

Haalfrin puts his hands on his waist and boasts, "I'm just awesome. Aren't you going to praise me?"

Rather than praise, Kalastros cuffs Haalfrin's ears and warns, "Not until I've taken you back home and scolded you properly for doing something so dangerous. F*** that king and his orders. You're not dying before me!"

Coughing in embarrassment, Kalastros adds with a softer voice, "After that, I can praise you if your story warrants it."

On the way back home, one can almost hear an old man chattering off to the young boy riding behind him, "Don't just follow orders blindly! After I retire and you become the archmage, if you let the king treat you like a doormat, he'll never respect you! Only bad things will happen if people don't respect you..."

The voices then faded off into the distance.... though one can guess Haalfrin must be arguing back based off his waving hands and raised voice that echoes through the canyon below them.