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    Yeoldebard
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Nekromancer - 74. Chapter 74

Mechitar was a mess.

Even now, so long after the trio left it behind, the inhabitants were working on repairing the damage Ivris had done, the damage Jakun had caused by unleashing the ravener.

As he stepped out of his portal and looked around, the lich felt a shiver pass through his body. He was immune to cold now, but perhaps it was a twinge of sympathy for the people whose lives he had most certainly destroyed. Jakun made note of the jolt, hoping that he could still feel sympathy. He would have to work on keeping his emotions.

But for now, he had business to take care of. Namely, locating a certain vampire.

He pushed into the inn they had stayed at before, eyes scanning the dim candlelight within. It didn’t take long to find his target, the moroi licking a gnome’s neck erotically as the small being sat in her lap. He watched in mild interest as her hand caressed the gnome’s crotch, just hidden by the table they sat at. The tavern was empty save for the two of them, and Jakun didn’t waste anymore time before approaching the vampire and the gnome.

“Moroi.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously, fangs dropping as she glared at him.

“What do you want cat? I’m busy.”

“Gidane Olra. Do you know where to find him?” Jakun asked, a silver coin dancing across his fingers.

“Perhaps,” the vampire said, sniffing at the gnome’s neck.

A second silver appeared, floating above the catfolk’s hand in a display of mild magic, both incentive and warning.

“He’s a necromancer. He works where all Mechitar necromancers work.”

Jakun tossed the coins at the moroi, the vampire catching them in her long slender fingers. She hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know, but that was more his fault for not asking the right question. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what the right question would have been.

“Enjoy your meal,” the amurrun said, turning away.

His mind reached for the presence of his eidolon, seeking Anya’s snarky explanation, and when it failed to come, the lich took a deep, unnecessary breath. Her sacrifice pained him more and more each passing day. He missed the werewolf, missed her complaints, her arguments, and the way she looked after him, working tirelessly to keep the amurrun alive.

He was going to get her back. And the Ebon Mausoleum was the perfect place to start. Gebbite necromancers were notorious for infighting, and as much as Jakun wanted to test himself, to see his new power in action, the lich knew it would be much simpler to let the necromancers destroy each other. He was about to start a war in Mechitar, for the sake of a single soul.

Besides, having two evils fighting each other would be just what Jeremy and Amnor Sen wanted.

Striding swiftly from the tavern, Jakun called up a tiger, the beast’s flesh sliding off rotting bones as he climbed onto its back. A silent command sent the tiger forward, galloping tirelessly through the city streets until it collapsed in front of the black pyramid.

Jakun found he was no longer intimidated by the building. He may not have been the most powerful being within Mechitar, but he didn’t need to be. There was only one emotion within him, a cold, calculating rage. There was a necromancer in the building who had tried to steal his soul, and who had trapped the soul of his closest friend. And she would suffer before he put her down.

Approaching a skeleton armed with a polearm, the amurrun took a moment to think.

“Tell Gidane Olra that the penumbra spell is waiting for him outside,” Jakun said.

The skeleton turned, bones clacking loudly as it disappeared into the Ebon Mausoleum. Jakun waited patiently, trusting his bait to work. And sure enough, the necromancer stepped out into the early morning, hiding in the shadows.

“You are awfully bold, calling upon a vampire you have wronged,” Gidane growled, covering his sensitive flesh in a heavy cloak.

“A wrong that will be made right,” Jakun said, pulling a scroll out of his own clothing. “This has the spell you lost that day. I will give it to you, in exchange for your aid.”

“And why would I aid you? What is stopping me from plucking that spell from your hands and slaughtering you like the pest you are?”

“The sun, for one,” Jakun noted, a ray of light shining across his face. “But also the fact that, were you to successfully kill me, I would only return to enact bloody vengeance upon you. You cannot stop me. But you can make my life easier, and I yours. Gather your spawn, and raid Sidara until she is defenseless. Then the spell will be yours.”

“You assume my spawn can survive an encounter with that bitch,” Gidane scowled.

“They don’t need to survive a fight with her. Merely a fight with her slaves,” Jakun pointed out. “She will die by my hands, once I have what I need from her. And then her spells will be yours, to do what you wish with.”

“We will fight her together,” Gidane said. “I don’t trust you at all, cat. I swear by all that is unholy, if you fuck me over, I will kill you as many times as I need to until you remain dead.”

“If I turn on you, we’ll both be dead. But I’ll come back,” Jakun said. “I doubt you can say the same.”

The vampire stepped back into the safety of the Mausoleum as the sun slowly rose over Jakun’s face. His teeth flashed, fangs warning the catfolk as he melted into the shadows.

“Stay at your inn. I will send word when she is ready.”

Jakun nodded, backing further into the sunlight before turning his back on the necromancer. He would need to take care of some business before the day was through, but come nightfall, the catfolk would be prepared to face his first enemy.

Copyright © 2020 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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