The Drikthan Queen held her gaze upon the book in her hands, each page woven together with spiraled petrified wood. Ancient necromancers had wielded a power that made men tremble in their boots and left demons second guessing their choice of prey. Serana’s power has not quite ascended to their level. If the necromancers of old are a lake, then Serana now is just a pond. Not quite strong enough to achieve the same feats, but strong enough to have a shot at usurping their place. The last of the great necromancers had taught Serana everything she knew, and he continued to teach her even in death through the scribbles and symbols etched his study.
“You old fool, what secrets are you keeping within these dusty old tomes?” the Drikthan Queen sighed.
Serana didn’t return to her master’s study often. The study sat just outside of the castle, and while it was somewhere secure and far from her enemies, the study was more out of the way than she’d like. Treachery ran thick as blood in her kingdom. It was a struggle to find good allies, especially dependable ones who were strong enough on their own. Serana trusted people as much as she trusted a blade pointed at her back. It was close enough to the experience. Her spies were among those trusted few only because she lined their pockets. However, Serana couldn’t help but replace her spies every few years. There was only so much loyalty you could buy with money after all. During her time in the bone-chilling northernmost kingdom of Ilmaria, Serana enjoyed a nice reprieve from this cesspool of vipers. Ilmaria has its own demons, both literal and metaphorical ones, but at least Ilmaria has a strong hierarchal royal family that keeps the serpents in check and a goddess sworn to protect them. Driktha’s hierarchy followed the trail of scraps left by the most powerful, much like a pack of wolves.
Yet, Serana was searching for the ritual to make the chasm between herself and the others a ravine. She paced the halls of the study, the medium-sized room drawing tighter and tighter around the Queen with each step. There was an irony with the array of plants growing within Serana’s inner sanctum, something that wasn’t lost on her. In her years, Serana found that life always crept back in through the cracks in the walls or the ceiling of the roof. Death has a way of attracting life in a strange twist of fate. Serana had wielded that knowledge for well over two decades, granting her the monikers of the “Forever Queen” and the “Immortal Sovereign” among the populace. However, the “Forever Queen” could not recall where she put the text for the ritual amongst all the codices in her study.
Serana snapped her fingers, a wisp of magic flickering through the air before plunging into the rib cages around the room. The bones bind together, ethereal tethers threading arms and legs together with a vicious rattling. Each of the skeletons assemble themselves together piece by piece until they emerge standing at Serana’s side, their eyes glowing an abyssal bluish green. Without Serana uttering a single word, the skeletons snatched up tomes and scanned the ledgers. Outside these walls, necromancers funnel their power into amulets or charms, yet the Queen laughed at such frivolities. Any motions Serana performed while casting served as a formality than anything else, leaving everyone speechless when she conjured anything without any perceived effort.
One of the skeletons marched up to Serana, its bones clicking and clattering with each unsteady step. Serana glossed over the ledger, a smile creeping across her face as she examined the contents. A dark bluish green swirl of energy orbited the Queen’s hand while motes of manna fill the air, little inkblots of manna suspended all throughout the study. Tomes lifted from the wooden tables, pages fluttering back and forth as each one lands on the proper page. The Drikthan Queen uttered one a singular command, unleashing a torrential burst that smothers the candles around the room. Before the Queen stood a powerful man, though the man wore a worn cloak and a dull grey hat that has seen better days.
“Well, Queen Serana Ravenblood, Immortal Sovereign of the Drikthan Throne, it has been a while since we last talked. I imagine you’ll need my help again for your ritual,” the man sighed.
“Don’t act like you get nothing from this deal, Lich. Without my power you’d have become a pile of ectoplasmic ash ages ago to be used for nothing but conjuring others,” Serana spat.
The Lich stared at the Immortal Sovereign, his eyes boring deep into Serana’s soul. His former pupil had indeed grown powerful, almost as powerful as he was in life. Almost. The Lich picked at his withering collar, little flecks of dried leather falling off onto the dirt floor. Serana sent a tome gliding towards the Lich. Despite his misgivings, Serana had summoned him, so he took the book into his hands and studied the spells on the dusty page. The Lich’s eyes spread wide as Serana swept her hands into the air, concentrating the excess magic into a dense sphere.
“What are you planning to do with this spell? This is something far beyond extending your youth. Your highness, you’re threatening to tamper with the realm of the gods here!” her former master said.
“I’m well aware Lich, which is why I need your help,” Serana hissed.
“You’ll regret this course, that much I’m sure of. However, I’ll offer you my knowledge and services, though you’ll need to pay a price of your own of course!”
Serana thrusted her left hand toward the spirit, ensnaring her former teacher with dark blue magic as chains snake across his arms and legs. The Lich chuckled as he sat bound to the ground.
“How am I supposed to chant when I am bound like this?” the Lich mused.
“You are strong enough to perform what I need from you while bound. I am not taking any chances with you again,” the Queen said.
The Lich sighed and drew a stream of dark blue energy from the sphere of manna in the center of the study, sending the lines spiraling into the Drikthan Queen. Serana’s flesh grew tighter and firmer with every strand of magic funneling into her. The grass withers and dies around the room, the blades shifting from bright green to dull gray. The skeletons collapsed to the ground, bones crashing against the stone as the light faded from their eyes. Serana cackled as her muscles tightened and her energy spiked.
“That’s our normal ritual complete. Your youth has been restored beyond what it would have been. However, we must discuss the price of your new gamble, Serana Ravenblood.”
“Speak Lich, what is it that you wish to warn me about? What do you believe I have not considered about this endeavor?”
“You proceed as if you have already succeeded in trying to usurp the throne of the god of death. Yet you are not as powerful as even the greatest necromancers of your kingdom, what makes you think you are powerful enough to takes his throne,” the Lich whispered.
The Lich posed a valid question, but Serana already knew her plans. She had observed the power of the god of death with her own eyes through the struggles shown by spirits all throughout the Underworld. Many young necromancers struggled conjuring spirits nowadays, something that never occurred even a mere ten years ago. Indeed, the god of death was doing something in the Underworld that harmed Driktha, something Serana could never allow to persist.
“I must protect my kingdom, Lich. The necromancers of today are nothing compared to our forefathers! Therefore, someone must stop the god of death’s tyranny over the realm of the dead.”
“Yet, it would take many months to draw such power into your body. How would you gain such power?”
“Why do you think you’re here, Lich? You are a powerful agent within the Underworld that I can conjure into this realm. You can collect power from the Underworld and bring it back to me. That is our business arrangement. I allow you passage between the realms and you bring me power to usurp the throne of a god.”
“Yet, there must be some catch. Surely, I will only be able to travel within a certain distance of you, or my power will be limited to a certain level whilst under this contract?” the Lich said.
“Indeed, though you’ll find that I am quite generous. I’ll allow you a great deal of freedom so long as you grant me what I desire. I am not a cruel queen without reason,” Serana said.
The Lich stared at the floor, while his chains slackened just a touch. Yet a touch was enough for him to know the Queen’s intentions, enough to rouse the memories of when he walked the realms without chains at his side. At least, the Drikthan Queen promised to be fair to him. Fairness was hard bought in a land of necromancers and con artists. All he had to do was bow, and the weight would fall from his shoulders.
Serana knew she had the Lich cornered. As she drew power from the sphere, a cold, gentle breeze swept around the study. The silver grass grew taller and taller as more energy flooded the small room. Serana’s limbs grew taut as manna surged through her blood, each thrum of her heart thundering in her ears. Silver flowers grew sprouting from the wooden beams of her desk. The silver light of one of the moons showered down through the window, bathing the scene in a monotonous silver sheen. The Lich watched as the reeds and grasses of his home grew all around him, yet this was not his home. His ethereal feet were sitting on the warmth of life, not the unending stench of death. However, he found hints of decay had sifted into his nostrils. As Serana lifted into the air, the abyssal sphere shattered into a million shards, each one circling the Drikthan Queen. The Lich stared in disbelief as the shards plunged into Serana’s chest, yet Serana chuckled as the thrumming in her veins grew louder with each shard that pounded into her chest.
“My place in the ritual is complete, my Queen. If you have no further need from me, I will be returning from whence I came…” the Lich whispered.
Serana fluttered down to the ground, her shoes clopping against the stone floors. She took three steps towards the Lich, brushing her hand against his ethereal cheek. The Lich’s gaze rose to meet Serana’s, but his eyes were murky. Her spell was a little too powerful for his mind to bear with his sanity fully intact. Serana waved her hand out towards the exit, sending just a faint trail of manna through the doorway. The Lich walked through the door, not even a hint of his former bravado lingering within his ethereal form.
“With that, my entry into the Underworld has been attained. Now, I can move into phase two. Come now, Lich. You and I have things to do.”
The Drikthan Queen marched out of her study, a smile creeping across her face as the newest member of her legion followed behind her every move. If the Lich had just a little more resilience, he could have forged himself into a very powerful Undead. Instead, the Lich was forged into a tool, a very powerful weapon but still a tool, nonetheless. It was an unfortunate turn of events, yet the Queen retained a grim satisfaction. Everything had gone mostly according to plan, something that left a radiant smile on Serana’s face as she and her newfound prize returned to her castle, leaving a longer trail for her subjects to chase.
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