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// Chapter R2.2: Undeath 
// Story: The Final Account of the Dark Arts (Anniversary Edition) 
// by JinxTJL 
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No longer is death a certainty, however, as it was the final will of the first Necromancer that Death be denied their cynical certainty. For what was once the ability to see became the ability to possess, and to reap that which was never meant for the living. There is no existence akin to that of a destined Necromancer, and by their power, they learned that their existence was crudely replicable; by that token, there are no spells quite like those of the school of Necromancy.

However the school has been explored, there is no methodology that science may follow to explain how Necromantic spells may interfere with the soul. It is a matter of will—of an impossible allowance Harmony has made for their breed to prosper and for life to regain ground rightfully lost. It is a very simple yet altogether inscrutable fact that Necromancy retains some measure of the divine, for it must be divine for their mana to flaunt Death.

Death’s call may not reach souls once grasped by a Necromancer, and in their manner of consumption, they claim them as their own. A Necromancer may take a soul into themselves in a method of existential harmony, and impossible though it may seem, this act empowers them. It grants them the vitality of the lives they possess seemingly without end, as has been the seemingly inevitable downfall of their ilk. There always comes a day when they must shed the weight of the lives they have claimed, and in their void, there is only the cold. 

I, too, even in my most fringe dabbling, have felt the cold, and I feel it even now. For their kind, who must feel it to such an unbearable extent that I cannot possibly comprehend, there is only sympathy.

Yet, for many Necromancers, there is a grand pursuit that even supersedes the comfort they have become accustomed to. It was the gift of he, the first Necromancer, that souls may be manipulated in this way, and as was his will, they may be gifted as well as stolen. For if a soul is reintroduced through the simple act of transference, what once was dead may be allowed to walk again. For many, resurrection is little more than a foolish dream that captivates the grieving and envious, yet for Necromancers, it is their right.

The unfettered soul carries the existence that it was instilled with, and so this is the being that is present upon reintroduction to a body. The provided body does not matter, nor does its state; it is only the soul that determines whether resurrection will come to pass. If the soul is undamaged from its original state, then they will wake from death as they were when it was visited upon them.

This state is not the same as life, and so it is known as undeath, for retrieval from Death’s embrace denotes a dismissal of its rules; one kept in a state of undeath may only die through specific, concerted means. In this way, a body inhabited by a soul in undeath may indeed function as normal if undamaged, yet there is no need for the brain, heart, or any activity from any organ to perpetuate its existence. It is the soul that carries their being, and as their consciousness is not kept within this realm, the body holds no bearing on life.

I write this with a heavy heart in my last hours, yet even now, I feel shame for the past misuse of the most holy of all the magical arts. Necromancy will never know reverence again beyond those subjugated to the point of forced criminality, for undeath as it has been used has only been used to bring pain.

Those in undeath no longer need nerves to suffer, for the body is its cradle, and their cradle, once disturbed, may only cause restlessness and agony. There is a way to remove suffering from a soul, yet it is not common, and so those foul misdemeanors that have populated history have done so as storied tales of misery and misfortune. Those who were brought back were brought back to toil and hurt, and those they hurt were not given proper rest. Their bodies were forced to continue long past the point of breaking, and without the ability to struggle, to cry, or to beg for mercy, their eventual end was a sorrowful act of justice.

Undeath may give us back that which we held most dear, yet it may also bring pain not meant for the living.