The Awakening of a Tactician

by Mountainmanmad


Chapter 7 - A Sordid Past

I closed the book, a well used quill and a half empty bottle of ink beside me. I grinned as I beheld the title of the book: Translation of the old language. It had taken me about an hour to complete the translation, but it was finally ready to be used by Trixie. I stood up from the dusty floor and cracked my back.

I looked around the still dusty home, realizing I’ve been putting off the cleaning for too long. I dusted off my clothes and grabbed Arcwind, a few controlled bursts of wind should deal with this mess. I soon began pushing the wind around me, forcing the dust towards the entrance of my home. As I worked, my mind began to dwell on the past. The diamond i gave Trixie had brought up some bad memories. I didn’t always use to practice what I preach…

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(1501 years ago)

I stood at the edge of the trail, watching the caravan draw closer. I gripped Arcfire tightly in my arms, my mind a battle as I prepared to go against my nature… again. I needed more supplies and the Sisters were still after me. I couldn’t enter a town without getting screams of fear and alerting the guards. If I wanted any quality goods I had to resort to thievery.

I closed my eyes, silently voicing my sorrows before I attacked. I raised my hand and called upon the magic within the tome. A ring of pure fire formed around the small group, cutting off any chances of escape. I could hear shouts and cries of fear from outside the raging inferno. With a sigh I stepped forward, the flames pulled back for me like a curtain.

I looked over the ponies in front of me with a hard gaze. I couldn’t afford to show weakness, not after going so far. I stood before four guards and three merchants, the only resistance between me and the wagon of goods behind them. The merchants looked frightened to death, but the guards much less so.

They pointed their spears in my direction. “Halt creature, you are attacking a caravan of the Royal Sisters!”

I rolled my eyes. “Really, what gave it away? Was it the royal emblem on the wagon or the fact that it’s being guarded by you lousy excuse for guards ponies?”

I could almost hear their teeth grinding in rage. I could see their muscles tense, ready to lunge forward and impale me. I never gave them the chance. I manipulated the fire around me and directed the flames towards the guards. The spears began to glow red from the heat and their armor began burning into their fur and skin. All four of them collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain. I only pulled the fire away until they fell into unconsciousness, their brains shutting down in order to escape the torture.

I cut off the magic and let the ring of fire fade away. All that was left was a perfect ring of scorched dirt. I switched out Arcfire for Arcthunder, noticing the merchants huddling together for protection. They returned my gaze with fear, fear that was ripping my very soul apart. I frowned as I began to walk towards them, lightning dancing across my hand.

I’m sorry…

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(Present)

I shook my head and looked around the room. The entire house was spotless. Any trace of dust and decayed wood were removed and the home looked fairly clean. Trixie wouldn’t be back for another two to three hours at minimum. I walked over to the bag of books, selecting a blank journal and a fresh bottle of ink. I needed to make a new Nosferatu, that tome is a powerful weapon when in my possession. Not only that, I needed it to complete my studies.

I sat down on the cold floor, a quill in my hand and a bottle of ink by my side. I opened the book and began to write. I’ve done this so many times now I can almost do it automatically. In this case it only frustrated me as I began to, once again, recall a distant memory. The night I rose my first corpse.

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(1504 years ago)

The moon was high in the night sky as I stood in the middle of the cemetery. I’ve been wanting to try out this tome for some time now. I looked at Nosferatu, the dark purplish book seemed to glow eerily in the moonlight. I’ve been excited to try out Dark magic, but I’ve also been worried about what could happen. I’ve already learned that my magic isn’t exactly restricted to game logic.

I internally shrugged and opened the book, quickly skimming over the words. When I first had to switch tomes I used to have to read multiple pages to bind myself. Now… I only needed to read a few sentences. Perhaps in a few years I’ll only need to pick out a few words.

I closed the book and looked towards the nearby town. It was utterly devoid of life, the ponies having retired for the night. I turned my attention to the grave in front of me. It was the newest addition to the cemetery, only a few months old at most. It seemed a young adult had passed before her time, perfect to test the magic on. I went over the plan in my mind on how to bring the dead back to life.

Nosferatu, from the Fire Emblem game, is a dangerous tome that is capable of draining it’s victim's life force. In the real world where game mechanics don’t exist, it’s even more deadly. Through constant tests I found that Nosferatu can drain the life force of almost anything biological. I can keep up the spell for as long as I want and it doesn’t heavily drain the magic in the tome.

While Nosferatu is a deadly weapon, I found it can also be one of the greatest tools for healing. Through trial and error I can now direct the life energy I take into another being besides myself.

Life… nothing is more pure than life itself. It can be argued that a creature’s life is directly tied with its very soul. Something so pure and holy, no flaws in its design, it simply just is. Life energy is easily the worlds greatest source of power, a power that drives progress… and now I can control it.

It doesn’t matter how close a creature is to death. If I have a large enough source I can bring back a being from the brink of death. The only problem is that it’s a double edged sword. To restore the life of an individual I need another source of life. I can use the plants around me, but it won’t ever be enough.

Life energy is not constant, it is ever changing. From birth to death your life force changes. Weak as a child, strong as a young adult up to a middle aged man, and finally, brittle as an old man. The stronger a being’s strength and willpower, the more life energy they have to give.

Standing alone in the middle of an empty graveyard I only had one source of life large enough to raise the dead: myself. I began draining my life, wincing as I pulled a bit too much too fast. I quickly directed the flow of energy into the grave, forcing it into the corpse. When I had finished I was panting heavily, feeling tired, weak and nauseous.

new rule: do it slowly and take a little at a time

I should be fine by tomorrow morning. My life source should replenish itself given enough time. I was distracted from my thoughts as the sound of digging could be heard. I watched in wonder as the grave seemed to open up, and a pale hoof forced its way to the surface. The rest of the pony followed shortly after, the young mare’s skin luminescent in the moonlight. Its eyes had a golden tint to them, glowing faintly as they stared straight at me.

This… this is incredible! The dark magic has strengthened the body of the host allowing new cells to quickly regenerate and fix any abnormalities! Not only that, it seems that the undead has some intelligence. This, no doubt, aids in the preservation of the body should the corpse need to think its way through a situation. It’s not a Risen, more like a Phantom. I wonder if has the ability to- what’s it doing?

Towards the end of my inner rambling I noticed that the Phantom had made its way towards me. I looked down at it curiously and it returned the gaze. it actually seemed to be thinking of something. Granted, it would probably take a while to actually come up with any thought. I remained still, watching as it shuffled a bit closer. What happened next made me question my sanity.

The Phantom slowly raised itself on its hind legs and wrapped its forelegs around my waist. I could feel my back cracking from the sheer power behind the hold. I was about ready to burn the damn thing when it actually… nuzzled me? That’s when I heard it speak, a gravely voice with the undertone of a female.

“Master...”

My brain stopped all forms of cognitive thought. I absently rubbed the back of the Phantom mare. I only realized what I was doing when it pushed its muzzle deeper into my stomach. I reacted as any person would when in this situation: freak the fuck out.

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(Present)

I closed the finished book, my mind focused on the present once more. I placed my hand upon the cover of the book and began to fill the tome with magic. The book glowed a faint white before becoming a rich purple. This continued for the next ten minutes, me pushing as much magic into the pages as I possibly could. By the time I was done I was breathing heavily, but before me lay a purple tome, ready for use. I grabbed it and placed it atop the pile of books nearby. All I needed was another bookshelf and I could get them off the floor. That reminds me of another book I own…

I walked into the storage room, the space bare save for a single chest at the moment. I opened the chest and beheld the contents within. It was filled with flawless gems and gold, easily amounting to thousands of bits. I ignored it all as I dug through the pile, grasping the spine of a familiar journal. I pulled it out and opened it, reading over the numerous hypotheses, mathematical equations and previously done experiments.

I was distracted when I heard a sudden pop come from the main room accompanied with heavy breathing. It would seem Trixie is back from her shopping. I closed the book and glanced at the title of the journal before placing it back into the chest.

Hypotheses on Immortality