//------------------------------// // 13 - Life or Death // Story: The Necromancer's Ambition // by KuroiTsubasaTenshi //------------------------------// “How bold of you to come here yourself. Too... complicated for your little zombie friends?” The fake-necromancer stalked forward, though he kept himself between us and the ramp. “Says the wannabe,” Blaze called over my shoulder. He let out a snort. “I don’t know what you want with the brat, but she’s our property now and we don’t like ponies taking our stuff.” I shook my head. “She’s a pony, not a thing to be had.” “Oh? And who’s going to stop us?” Drawing myself taller, I stared defiantly at his concealed face. “Me.” He laughed, a mockery intermingled with his malice. “You self-righteous, little bitch. You think you’re different? You take what you want just the same. Or did poor Brass slit his own throat?” The fake-necromancer pointed at hoof at the corpse. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blaze stiffen and look away. Self-defense, even if a fight was inevitable. I told myself. It was a flimsy excuse that would hardly hold up against deeper analysis. But for the moment, it kept my mind from wandering out of reality. “Enough of your painfully weak games.” I brandished my blade. “Step aside and I’ll let you go.” A futile attempt at intimidation, but I had to try. If there was even the tiniest chance of avoiding such a dangerous foe, it was worth making myself look like a fool. “You’ll let me go? I don’t think so. My boss wants the Necromancer’s head on a platter. If I dangle your entrails in front of her, maybe she’ll come out of her little hidey-hole.” Narrowing my eyes, I ever-so-slowly shifted myself to a more agile stance. “What? You think I didn’t figure out that that magic wasn’t yours?” He cocked his head. “Thought you could make me think you a Shadow Walker?” I mentally raised an eyebrow. There was something strangely flattering in the assumption that I was powerful enough to sell myself, to trade a piece of my being to a darker power, such that I might wield spells as a pegasus. Especially since such tales were myth. Not that I was dismissing it based on its status as a legend. Not after Ivory. However, my first guess would have been a unicorn hiding under illusionary magic. With a flourish, he continued. “No, I felt it and knew. Knew that you didn’t bear the touch of dark m—” I lunged, deciding that if he was going to make death threats and then go on to showboat, he was going to pay for his ego. There was that split second of frozen surprise, but he was paying more attention than I gave him credit for. He moved just enough for me to miss his neck, my blade plunging through his robe and into his barrel. He let out a scream, his long knife tumbling out of his robe as he vanished in a burst of red. I kicked the weapon across the ground, where Blaze’s aura deflected it toward her former cell. Whether or not it reached the prison, I didn’t know. A tingling in the air brushed against my back, pulling my attention behind me. Halfway was about as far as I made it when another wave of light washed the world away. I winced and tried to blink through the redness. Pain blasted across my ribs as something struck my right side. I stumbled away from the blow, all the while trying to steady myself with my left wing and making a blind counterattack with my right. My blade caught something and tore straight through it. Whatever it was, it cut far too easily to have been my mark. As my sight returned, I caught the barest glimpse of the fake-necromancer’s silhouette before he was gone again. The tingling returned, but this time it brushed across my left side. I got a forehoof up, but my frantic effort only stopped one of his hooves. I gasped as I was sent sprawling. I gritted my teeth, pushing the disorientation away. My muscles summoned instinct and a half-roll later, I was at least rightside-up. Scrambling to my hooves, I was just in time to see Blaze hobble-charging straight at the fake-necromancer. I wanted to shout at her to back off, but I couldn’t find the breath. Despite her highly-telegraphed assault, her wild headbutt managed to glance off the edge of his chin. She reared up, a frenzy of blows coming from her forehooves, but all she struck was the red-tinged air. The fake-necromancer appeared again, throwing a couple of his own forehoof blows into her side, followed by a headbutt to the back of her skull. Her cries became grunts as her jaw snapped shut. She brought herself around to face him, but this only succeeded in letting him buck her square in the chest. She skidded across the dirt with an unceremonious crash. A touch of rage trickled in, intermingling with my growing concern. My body wanted to rush to her side, but that almost certainly would have been the end of us. Until the shadow of the fake-necromancer no longer loomed over us, all I could do was hope her injuries weren’t life-threatening. By now, a dark spot had spread along the fake-necromancer’s robe. The stink of sweat, intermingled with the scent of blood, practically radiated from him. Push him harder! He’ll buckle soon! my mind yelled. Holding my wing high, I slashed toward him with a wide, obvious arc. He ducked under the blow as I slid past. Just the way I wanted it. I bucked as hard as I could and the echoing crack told me it had been well-aimed. My follow-up cut went straight for the throat, though I only succeeded in cleaving through his robe. Red light flooded out from under his hood, but he didn’t teleport immediately. I flung myself forward, using my head where my wingblade had failed. He was halfway through a stumble when the light took him away again. I tensed, every ounce of me anticipating the return of the tingling air. Several seconds passed and I began to worry. If he had fled, he could be bringing reinforcements down upon us. Then again, even though I didn’t know how teleporting worked, the apparent strain made me reasonably certain he couldn’t have gone far. Not a single hoofstep reached my ear. My eyes fell on the open cell. He could have been hiding there, waiting for me to turn my back to tend to Blaze. For a moment, I wished I still had the key with me. But I quickly realized that trying to lock a teleporting unicorn into such a shoddy prison would have been futile. Creeping up to the opening, I scanned the darkness. The second I spotted the fake-necromancer’s silhouette, there was a flurry of movement, followed by the increasingly familiar red flash. I whirled to meet the tingling along my right flank. The door slammed straight into my muzzle. Pain and numbness fought for dominance as the world melted into a reddish, shadow-lined blur. There was more tingling, this time brushing across my rear. I whirled, or at least attempted to, tripping over myself as my legs moved a half-second behind my mind. I was barely turned when I saw the flash of what must have been steel hovering just above me. I feebly raised my blade, hoping against all odds that it would be enough for a block. But the strike never came. As my vision cleared, the fake-necromancer materialized in front of me, twitching amidst a half-completed stride. The glow of Blaze’s magic pulled my sight down, to the prison guard’s spear, where half the shaft had found its way into his chest. The fake-necromancer’s own aura flickered out and he and his knife clattered to the ground. Though the churning of my stomach insisted that the spear had pierced his heart, I forced myself to check his vitals. One can never be too sure when it comes to talented mages. But the strike had been true and I was only too happy to step away from the corpse. The spear continued to drive further into his body and I called over my shoulder. “He’s gone, Blaze. Stop. Blaze?” I gave her a questioning glance. The light of Blaze’s horn highlighted her face and the wide-eyed terror within. In the shadow beneath, her teeth were gritted, her entire body quivering. My confusion melted into sympathy and I hurried over to her. When she failed to acknowledge me, I gave her a sharp nudge. “Hey, you okay? This… this was your first, wasn’t it?” She gave me a blank stare, like a wounded foal, begging me to make the pain go away. “I…” Taking a deep breath, I met her gaze. “Look, I know it hurts and this is going to sound harsh, but you have to focus. Whatever you need, I’ll help you. But we’re still in danger and I need you to stay strong until we can get out of here. Understand?” With a short nod, her horn went silent. “Good, now follow me and try not to make too much noise.” Every tunnel seemed longer, every step, louder, and every branch full of skulking shadows. After all, if the fake-necromancer had thought to come back, who knows how many others had had the same bright idea? The problem was only compounded by Blaze’s inattention. Though she had a knack for moving around with ease, she walked straight into my flank more than once. Her face was constantly contorted and every so often her eyes would snap back to awareness. While I didn’t doubt her effort, I did doubt that it would be enough for her to be useful in a fight. So I found myself watching out for both of us and, once again, the strain taking its toll. My nerves wound tighter with each flicker of a shadow, each echo that wasn’t our own. We hadn’t even seen a single soul and all that did was make me wonder when our luck would run out. The worst was the final stretch to the exit and not just because it was the final stretch. While the uninterrupted length was intimidating coming in, having only the heart of the enemy base to flee to made me magnitudes more nervous. As the white of the exit grew, I felt like my heart was about to pop. What lay hidden behind the curtain of blinding light? What stalked behind us, hungry for our exposed flanks? I decided that should there be enemies waiting, we had little choice but to charge through. It was a plan; a plan that, given Blaze’s state of mind, failed to fill me with confidence. But it was our best chance of survival. As I scooted up against the mouth of the corridor, I held my wingblade poised and ready to strike. But the entrance was as quiet as when I had arrived and the only sounds to reach my ears were faint cries and the distant clatter of metal. Slipping along the cliff, I craned my neck to get a look at the topmost edge, to see if the sentry had returned. Her post remained abandoned. I motioned for Blaze to advance as I started rummaging through my flight satchel. The signal, a coarse, white ball, was exactly where I’d left it. Ivory’s words floated through the back of my mind. Step on it when you’re ready. Though the ball had felt sturdy enough, once it was between my hoof and the ground, it gave way like a dried-up sandcastle. Particles drifted away, evaporating into thin air until there was nothing left. I turned to watch for the zombie and nearly let out a yelp. The pale pegasus was already standing beside me. After taking a few moments to calm my heart attack, I pointed toward the zombie. “Your ride.” “W-why?” Blaze’s eyes drifted toward my back. “I’m not strong enough to carry you. Not in a combat zone, anyway. Now hurry up.” She opened her mouth, but thought better of it. With one more look of uncertainty, she gingerly slid herself onto the zombie’s back. Flapping my wings, I took to the sky, toward what little cloud cover there was. We were almost home-free when I spotted some rapid movement out of the corner of my eye: a pegasus and a griffon were headed our way. Even though they weren’t closing particularly fast, this was a problem. I couldn’t very well lead them back to our rendezvous point. I glanced at Blaze, who looked like she was going to be sick, and her zombie-carrier. I wondered just how maneuverable it was and if we could lose the bandits. But without any additional safety gear, I couldn't be sure the chase wouldn’t accidentally turn Blaze into a pancake. Option B, then, would be to fall back and fight, delay them long enough for the zombie to get away. After that, I could give them the slip on my own. My body ached, protesting against another battle and especially against a two-on-one. But when doing nothing would be even worse, I had little choice in the matter. I took a deep breath. My blood ran cold as an ear-piercing screech rent the air. A zombie-bird burst from a nearby cloud, spiraling toward bandits like an oversized arrow.  The bandits’ eyes bugged out as they scattered away. Never had I felt horror and relief so keenly intertwined. I shook my head. Focus. Making a mental note to thank Ivory, I led us to freedom.