Death's Pattern in Atlantis: The Necromancer's Game

Moksh returns to the Royal Academy of Paranormal Sciences after thirteen years, seeking a vital clue hidden in the professor's diary. He suspects the Watchers, a mysterious and powerful group, are manipulating events. He had to convince his sister, Tara, to let him go, promising to return. Albert, who has been in contact with the academy, accompanies him. Upon arrival, they find the academy eerily deserted and are immediately confronted by Grandmaster Elias and the Inner Circle of the Council, who seem to have been expecting them, hinting at a trap. The academy is under some kind of restriction, with magic and technology limited. Moksh suspects a deeper conspiracy is at play.

Grandmaster Elias's words hung heavy in the air, a silken thread of authority amidst the rising tide of suspicion. Moksh, his heart still reeling from the accusations hurled by Pragya, felt a flicker of warmth at Elias's quiet support. "Mr. Moksh, my young student, how are you?" The familiar greeting was a balm to his bruised spirit.

"Sir, how are you? You have come here from the academy for some work?" Moksh replied, trying to mask the turmoil within him.

"When I heard that you were coming to the academy, I rushed to see you," Elias said, his eyes holding a depth of concern that Moksh couldn't quite decipher.

The fragile moment of reunion was shattered by a voice laced with venom. "You shouldn't have come here, sir. He is a fugitive..." Pragya's accusations, each word a poisoned dart, pierced the air. Murder, insubordination, false information, desertion – the list of charges painted Moksh as a villain, a traitor.

"Pragya, stop, that's enough," Elias's voice, though calm, carried an edge of steel. "The boy has come from far away, let him go to his quarters."

Pragya, her face a mask of righteous anger, retorted, "Sir, I don't want to disrespect you, but I have to say one thing, my shoes won't go with him." With that, she turned and stalked away, leaving a thick silence in her wake.

Elias dismissed the remaining onlookers with a stern, "I don't say the same thing twice," and then, his gaze softening towards Moksh and Albert, said, "I have some personal things to talk about with these two."

As they walked towards the quarters, Albert, a shadow of unease crossing his features, asked, "Sir, why weren't you present at the meeting with the elders that day?"

Elias sighed. "Please, you know that the council has to make its rules stricter. There is a reason behind this. We have been getting reports of some illegal activities in Atlantis for a few days. We suspect an intruder among us. We've assigned the investigation to several officers, but no one has been able to provide any concrete information. So, I have a small request. It will be enough if one of you two fulfills it. Will either of you take this case?"

Moksh, remembering Elias's past kindnesses, the guidance and support that had shaped him into the warrior he was today, felt a surge of loyalty. "Okay, sir, we will take this case."

Albert, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes, stammered, "We'? Uff, okay, sir, we will take this case, but you have to help us."

The weight of the unspoken hung heavy between them.

Later, in the quiet confines of their shared quarters, Albert rounded on Moksh. "Why did you take the case? We already have a lot of work, and you're just adding to it!"

"You tricked me too," Moksh retorted, "You got information from Master Elias."

"You have to work with your brain too, friend," Albert replied. "You can't always depend on emotions. And the reason I said yes was because the only person we can trust in the whole council is Grandmaster Elias."

"Yes, I know that," Moksh conceded.

A knock on the door interrupted their discussion. Albert opened it to reveal Sejal. "Sejal, what are you doing here?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Sejal, a vibrant young woman with a playful glint in her eyes, entered the room with an air of easy familiarity. "You've taken that unsolvable case," she said to Albert, her tone laced with concern. "Many council officers are going crazy over it; you're just unnecessarily making your own head crazy. Okay, here," she handed him a stack of files, "these contain the investigation reports of all the officers. And sir also told me to tell you that the files you asked for will be delivered in a few days."

Her attention shifted to Albert, her expression softening. "You've forgotten me now," she said, a hint of playful reproach in her voice. "You don't even come to the council anymore. What has happened to you? Why are you behaving like this?" She stepped closer, her eyes meeting his, a spark of something more than friendship flickering between them.

Moksh, observing the intimate exchange, cleared his throat. "For your kind information, I have taken the case, and I have also asked for the files."

Sejal's cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she turned, a touch of embarrassment in her eyes. "Sir, you? I had no idea that you were also in this room."

"If you have something personal to talk to Albert about, I can leave," Moksh offered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"No sir, there is no need," Sejal replied quickly, a shy smile gracing her lips. With a final glance at Albert, she turned and left.

"What a cheerful girl, isn't it, Albert?" Moksh teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Yes, yes, that's enough," Albert said, his own cheeks tinged with color. "Now open the files and see what's in them."

The contents of the files painted a grim picture. A series of murders had occurred in different locations across Atlantis, each victim sharing a horrifying similarity: their life force had been drained from their bodies. The evidence pointed to one chilling conclusion: a necromancer was practicing black magic within the city.

"As far as I remember," Moksh said, "in the council, black magic can only be used by someone when he is researching it or learning about it, and this is only possible in the academy. But these cases have happened outside the academy."

"The first case happened inside the academy itself," Albert countered.

"Show me that document," Moksh demanded.

The first victim, Elara, was a sixteen-year-old student at the academy, a member of the magic group. Her life force had been completely extracted, leaving her lifeless.

"And the second victim?" Moksh asked.

"The second victim, a local farmer named Theron," Albert replied, "was found in the council's farming storage house. He was killed in the same way, his life force extracted, but this time, blood was also drained from his body."

"The third victim?"

"A guard, Kael," Albert said, his voice grim, "was found in front of the gate of the ancient ruins. His body was completely drained of life force and blood, and some of his organs were missing."

"And the fourth?"

"Professor Lyra," Albert said, "an academy professor, was found in a secluded alley. Her life force was extracted, no blood, no organs, but this time," he emphasized, "traces of black magic were found at the scene."

Moksh absorbed the information, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The more victims, the bolder the killer becomes. Or is he performing some kind of black magic ritual?"

"Who knows?" Albert replied, his voice laced with worry.

"What is common among them? Or have all the murders happened randomly?" Moksh mused.

"Only an investigation will reveal that," Albert said. "Let's go then. We'll start tomorrow."

The following day, Moksh and Albert began their investigation. They started at the academy, interviewing Elara's classmates and teachers. The young girl, it seemed, had been a quiet and studious student, with no known enemies. The only unusual detail was that she had recently become fascinated with ancient texts, particularly those dealing with forgotten magic.

Their next stop was the council's farming storage house. Theron, the farmer, was a simple man, well-liked by his community. There was no apparent motive for his murder. The only clue was the complete absence of blood, a detail that linked his death to Elara's.

At the ancient ruins, they spoke with the other guards. Kael, the slain guard, had been known for his vigilance. The missing organs added a new, disturbing dimension to the case. Was the killer simply draining life force, or was there something more sinister at play?

The investigation led them to the secluded alley where Professor Lyra had been found. The traces of black magic were faint, almost undetectable, but they were there, a chilling confirmation of their suspicions. Professor Lyra, like Elara, had been researching ancient magic, a fact that connected her to the first victim.

As they pieced together the fragments of information, a pattern began to emerge. All the victims had some connection to ancient magic, either through study or proximity. The killer, it seemed, was targeting individuals involved in or interested in these forbidden arts.

"This isn't random," Moksh said, his voice tight. "The killer is deliberately targeting people who are delving into ancient magic."

"But why?" Albert wondered. "What is he trying to achieve?"

The question hung heavy in the air, unanswered. The mystery deepened, the stakes grew higher. They were dealing with a necromancer, a practitioner of dark arts, and they were running out of time. The killer was growing bolder, his actions more brazen. Who would be the next victim?