Welcome to Gaia! ::

Prologue
I began to journey down a snow soaked road, a stretch forever straight, a forgotten place. Riding in the direction of a place of ruin, I sighed. This village I rode to was a place of mere unimportance related a purpose whose importance was greater than all others. The simple thought of my future, my fate, rendered my mind frail, weakening from the awesome pressure, the great burden set on my shoulders. I had been solitary for longer than I was used to. I met no man, good or evil, rich or poor. Only the company of my jet black steed drove my mind from the path of peril. I shivered from both the blistering cold and a chilling fear that my act of heroism, an act of kindness to the citizens of this nation, would somehow go awry. To defeat a Necromancer alone seemed an impossible task for a single man. Necromancy, a dark magic, in all its unholiness, needed to be rid of, whether the Gods themselves asked for it or if a peasant begged for his death. Through my eyes, this Necromancer needed to be rid of by any means necessary. Through his, he already had the means to eliminate me. He wanted my head, and I refused to give it to him.

Just over a day before, I awoke from a rest I should not have taken. In a daze, I sorted the papers mixed together in front of me. “Damn!” I cursed. “Librarian!”

A short stub of a man rushed to the call. He rushed to my splintery table, hands full of scrolls and pockets full of scribbled, illegible notes. He decided to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder at the confusing tome. “Yes sir?” he asked.

“May I ask you to translate these Elven texts to English?” I asked.

“Well I can sure try, sir.” he replied. He hustled over to the other side of the table, struggling to reach over the table to grab the Elven book. I pushed the tome a couple of inches toward him and looked around. The library obviously had not been renovated for years, with its wooden pillars supporting the ceiling and colored windows simulating that of a church’s. The place was clean, full of books both old and new, from vampire myths all the way to how to spot a dragon’s lair. After the admiration, I decided to no longer waste my time. I decided to overlook my orders, reaching into my side pack and reaching for a scroll.

“Quite an establishment you have here, my friend.” I complimented.

Suddenly I felt the cold shock of sharp metal on my neck, and the wielder of this blade was the librarian, leaning over the table, an angered expression spread across his face. “Burn in Hell, Necromancer!” he shouted. “Guards!”

“Necromancer? On what grounds comes this accusation?” I asked.

“How about the illegal tome of Necromancy you have asked me to translate? Never underestimate whom seems to be weak! Such a pity you have to be so incredibly stupid.” he replied.

“I can explain-”

“Quiet, citizen!” shouted a guard. He was a medium height guard, Dwarven, from the looks of it. He had a large black beard, a bald head, and piercing green eyes. His armor was metal, and clinked and clanked as he moved. “This better be good, God damn it!” His voice was deep and scratchy.

“Thank you, Rtabn.” the librarian said weakly. “Where is Bardeleke?”

“On his way, late for his shift again! No surprise for me at this point. Think the man would have his priorities.” Rtabn replied. “Bardeleke, get your a** in here before I discharge it!”

“Almost there!” called another guard entering the library. He was taller than the Dwarf and very light skinned. A small amount of brown facial hair told me he definitely wasn’t a Dwarf, but probably a Wood Elf. “What’s going on, Rtabn?”

“Well if you had been here for the first part of a conversation, you would know that the librarian is having trouble with this ruffian.” Rtabn replied, face red, fists balled.

“If I may interject, this is not a ruffian. He’s a Necromancer! I swear to you!” the librarian insisted. Almost immediately, both guards pulled their swords from their sheaths and pointed the tips at me, and Rtabn pulled his sword back to strike, when Bardeleke placed his hand on the bearded man’s arm.

“What is the meaning of this, Bardeleke?” Rtabn demanded.

“There is no way we can be sure he is a Necromancer. Remember the Royal Hawk, Rtabn!” Bardeleke insisted. Rtabn laid the blade of his sword on the shoulder of his chain mail armor, holding on to the hilt. He obviously was ready for violence.

“I doubt it. Such a young man after the Necromancer? I’ll bet my reputation that he’s the Necromancer.” Rtabn replied.

“Quit lallygagging and kill this evil man!” the librarian ordered.

“How do you know this, Orn?” Bardeleke asked.

“What?” the confused librarian asked.

“What is your proof that he is a Necromancer?” Bardeleke clarified.

“He has a foreign tome of Necromancy, and we both know that King Rufino burnt all the domestic texts involving the dark art.” Orn the librarian explained. The comfort of the guards made him loosen his grip on the knife he held to my throat. I took advantage of the opportunity, taking the knife from his hand, and pointing it back toward him.

Suddenly Rtabn swung his blade, and Bardeleke kept his position, merely observing. I leaped from my chair as Rtabn sliced through it. I looked at him, keeping my composure.

“How dare you assault this citizen!” Rtabn bellowed.

“That wasn’t an assault, it was a demonstration.” I explained. “Learn how to use a knife, librarian.” I walked to him and gave him back the knife.

“That was an act of violence. Now I have two reasons to arrest you!” Rtabn bellowed in anger.

“You are interfering in official business, guard. I have the right to stand my ground.” I explained.

“You lie, Necromancer! No one has been allowed to possess one of those unholy books since the death of King Julian!” Rtabn exclaimed.

I laughed a little. “So you dare to defy the will of King Emmanuel?” I calmly asked, humored by the angered guard. “Here, on his land, in a domain of such peace? How sickening!”

Rtabn groaned. In his laziness, he suggested, “Bardeleke, I think I’m going to let you decide the fate of this arrogant young man.”

“I’ve never-”

“Do not plea for help, Bardeleke. Take a look at the evidence, and think of the craftiness of a Necromancer before your final verdict.” Rtabn suggested.

“Well...” Bardeleke began. “Perhaps the Royal Messenger Hawk foretold of his arrival.”

“I still doubt it. Such a young man would not embark on such a dangerous quest unless he were mad, even if Emmanuel asked of it.” Rtabn stated, chuckling.

“Then I suppose I am mad.” I replied to his remark. He snapped his eyes to mine, his expression angry.

Bardeleke put his hand on Rtabn’s shoulder. “There is only one question I need ask you, sir.” Bardeleke explained. rtabn gave him a questioning glance.

“Bardeleke, he can’t be the-”

“What is your name?” Bardeleke asked.

I smiled, deviously, almost laughing. “Photios Thanasis.” I answered.

“You see, Rtabn?” Bardeleke asked, raising his free hand in annoyance. “You were going to let this man rot in a dungeon for a misconception.” At that, both guards sheathed their blades, and Rtabn rushed out in pure hatred.

I chuckled. “Quite the happy go lucky one, he is?” I asked sarcastically.

“I can only hope for a better partner tomorrow. He’s a royal pain. I pray he leaves the guard every night.” Bardeleke replied. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Photios.”

“Not your fault at all, Bardeleke. I have all the time in the world, for I do not depart till the dawn of tomorrow. All that needs done are some translations and my weapon pick up.” I replied happily.

“That’s a relief. Don’t want a bad review for the king.” Bardeleke laughed. “Orn, can you translate those texts for Photios? We’re going to pick up some weapons.”

“But what about other customers?” Orn asked.

“Close the library. This is mandatory.” Bardeleke replied. He straightened his bent back and yawned. “Follow me, Photios. All the weapons are stored in the South Guard Tower.”

“Alright then. All I need is some leather armor, a sword, and a shield to replace these rags and my fists.” I stated happily.

“Good for now. Also, welcome to Alecnah. Sorry your welcome wasn’t so warm.”

“It’s perfectly fine. The road ahead of me will only grow colder.”

Thank you for the help! I'm only fourteen and one of my dreams is to be an author, and this is the most golden concept for a story I have come up with yet. This is a rough draft, so it has to have edits. Hmm... possibly I could change the setting to the main character sitting in a library, reading the records of Necromancy illegally provided to him by the king? I mean the king dd illegal things in the book already with the hiring of mercenaries.

Good point. I might just have to skip on the unneeded history and just talk about Udlar and how he effected the industry of peaceful Necromancy.

Yeah, I could cut out all the other resurrections and stick to the main moments, like the addition of magic into the business of Necromancy and the first time it was ever used, and then just go back to the present and tie this prologue into the first chapter. Yeah, I'm going to go with that. Thanks for the advice! twisted I shall use it quite well....

And that is what it shall be. O.-

Well, it's better in some ways and worse in others.

First, the good. I liked the dialog. It made things more lively and lent a more human aire to the whole thing. Before it was static and a little boring, much like reading through a text book. While the subject was interesting, after reading through all those facts it was hard to stay entertained. But now we have movement, we have action, and it makes things so much better. Also, I liked the alliterations you were using. It's to prose what rhyming is to poetry. The like consonant sounds gave things a pleasing sound. I use alliteration whenever I can and it was a nice addition to you descriptions.

On that note, I must say that you went a little over the deep end with your description in the beginning. I'm all for using commas, but you had four to five of them in some of your sentences. It was over detailed, making the sentences sloppy and hard to follow. Then sometimes the thought was broken. Ex: "Riding in the direction of a place of ruin, I sighed. A ruined place of so little..." The "I sighed" breaks up the two similar thoughts about the ruined place, making it seem odd and a little jolting. Also more modern sounding phrases like "to the extreme" just seem out of place in this more fantastical setting. Lots of description is good, but it needs to be presented in a nice, clean, easily understood way. Like your third to last sentence in your first paragraph. It introduces us to the purpose of the story, Necromancy, but it trails on and on, letting the meaning become convoluted.

Another small thing, and this is really just me being a smart a**. No way would someone in this world being accused of Necromancy be able to save himself just by giving a name. It's too easy. Anyone can figure out a name. Just saying I'm Hilary Clinton to someone who has no idea what she looks like shouldn't get me into the White House.

Overall, I like it a lot better than your last attempt. Just, be careful that you don't bounce between extremes with your writing. Last time was more blocky and dull while this time you did a complete 180 and made things so long and ornate that it became confusing and twisted. Just read through (aloud works best) and see what really sounds articulate and what you might want to edit down or up.

Okay, I think I FINALLY got this thing. Probably needs more work, huh?

Chapter Two/A Weapon To Win This War

Had I not known what a Revenant was, I would surely be dead. Almost immediately, Bardeleke and I ran for the church on the other side of the town. Alecnah was widespread place, many farms and other buildings inside its walls, probably enough room to fit over three times its current population. My breathing was heavy, my chest burning. I’m too tired for this, damn it, I thought.

The screams of parents and children who haven’t yet made it to the church echoed through the city. Smoke and fire began to arise from farmhouses and manors, as well as markets. Revenants were known to kill hundreds at a time, and in this situation, there are only three hundred citizens who need saved. Most of them, inevitably, would die.

I had only been in one Revenant raid, a few years ago back in the main city, Nyswor. They killed several guards and hundreds of civilians, and these creatures only numbered thirty five. Obviously, they felt no pain, and had no sense of emotion, else they’d have come to their senses and surrendered. Their abilities as warriors were impeccable in comparison to a living man, and their master must be a master of war. A man whose mind can generate all kinds of scenarios involving these raids. Obviously a Necromancer, as crafty as these battles were.

We passed by a farmhouse that was in flames, and saw the shadows of Revenants through the window shades. Monstrous things, I thought. Need to be killed. “Bardeleke, we have to help those people!” I shouted. “We cannot just flee!”

I stopped, and Bardeleke kept running. “Photios, do not pretend to be a hero! You’ll die!” His shouts were beginning to fade. “You have no weapons...” Is all I heard from him till he was finally out of reach. He was right. I had to wait.

Sprinting down the side road, more screams and cries arose from the buildings as more smoke filled the one clear air. Every now and then I caught a glimpse at one of the Revenants. Their flesh, once human, was green, their hair gone, their eyes shallow and haunting, but their strength. Their strength was immense.

The main road was just ahead, so I was nearing the church rapidly. The screams grew louder, ringing in my head. My chest burnt painfully, and my eyes began to roll as my energy soaked up. Dizziness was beginning to overcome my survival instincts. I wanted to lay down and fall to sleep. My body wanted to kill me.

Behind me was a deafening roar, an illegible growl. “Help!” I pleaded, beginning to run faster. Adrenaline kicked in as I ran from the Revenant behind me. More smoke, more dizziness, more pain in my body. I only had a limited amount of energy, as this undead... man, I would guess, had an unlimited amount of energy. Finally, he caught up to me. Finally, I was doomed. He roughly gripped my shoulder and began to squeeze, trying to crush the bone, make blood squirt out for him to drink. I could not let him do this to me, but what choice did I have? Emmanuel would have to find another warrior to kill that Necromancer. I heard the Revenant, whose soul could not arise from its demented mind, laugh merrily at the sight of my pained face.

“Photios, move!” I heard... Imran call? I dropped to the ground, letting the Revenant have his way, when I heard a few cracks, a scream, and the sound of rotten blood splashing on my back. I crawled away, hearing more screams, the hands of a Revenant clawing at my ankles, to no avail. The church was feet away now, and the screams of less and less people arose from the structures behind me. In a few more seconds, I finally, and happily, reached the holy grounds of Alecnah’s towering church. “Get in the church, now!” Imran commanded from the church entrance. Before I rose, I looked behind me, to see Alecnah in ruin, watching children and parents alike be slaughtered in their homes, in their own domain. Mostly, I saw the Revenant who pursued me, gripping at the arrow that traveled through his skull, crying out in agony, trying to pull it out.

When I rose, I walked slowly to the church. Smoke billowed over my head, masking the cross at the top of the church’s tower. Imran had a crossbow in his arms, holding it tightly, a mixed expression of anger and shock spread across his face. “Imran-” I began.

“Get in the damn church, now!” he shot another arrow, and began to reload. Since he was destined to ignore me, I walked right past him. In the church were at least one hundred people filling the seats completely. I noticed Bardeleke looking forward, waiting for Imran to return, as well as Orn.

The city was under attack. Where was the tome?

“Orn, do you have the translations?” I asked. Immediately, eyes of townspeople turned back at me, gazing. I saw expressions of hope as well as one expression of amazement from Bardeleke.

“Wait... what?” Orn asked.

“Who are you?” A woman asked.

“You don’ belong here, swine!” another little boy proclaimed.

Anger overcame me. I did not like be interrupted. “Quiet!” I demanded. The voices hushed, though the eyes did not leave the image. “Orn, do you have the God damn-” My mouth felt a burning sensation. I used his name in vain here, on his ground. I growled. “Do you have the translations to the tome?” I asked finally.

Orn understood the question this time, and hesitated to answer the question. “They... They’re still in the library.” My fists immediately balled, and my muscles contracted. The door behind me was slammed shut, and all eyes, including mine, turned toward the pale faced Father Imran.

“There are no more survivors. We are the only people left of Alecnah, and we have no food in this church, nor hawks to send to Emmanuel to come save us. I’m afraid we are doomed, people.” he explained.

“Then I suggest we become assert ourselves and take back this town. These creatures number under twenty. We number over one hundred!” I proclaimed loudly.

Imran noticed my presence, obviously not noticing he saved me moments earlier. “Ah, one who says they do not believe in the words of God here on holy ground?” he asked. “You are as unholy as any of those creatures out there.”

“Your words are not of God, but of yourself. I see God through my own eyes, not the eyes you give to these arrogant, mindless people.” I replied.

“Who are you calling mindless, stranger?” a man asked.

“Yeah, maybe we should toss you out o’ here!” a woman suggested.

I turned to the citizens. “Toss me from this building and you lose all hope, people.” I explained. “My name is Photios Thanasis, and I am the Warlord of Nyswor. I’ve dealt with these beings before this time, and I think I know why they’ve come here.”

“Alright then, you’re the expert. Tell us why these creatures have come.” Imran ordered.

I simply answered, “For the information I have obtained. The tomes of Necromancy Orn translated for me.”

“Necromancer!” someone shouted. “Shoot that man dead!”

Bardeleke stood up. “Quiet! These are the orders of King Emmanuel, and if you dare to interfere, you shall be eradicated by any means necessary.” he threatened.

“Shut up, guard! Emmanuel would never allow this treason!” Very suddenly, the people inside of the church rose their voices above those of Bardeleke, Imran, and I.

As loud as I could, I shouted, “Imran, Bardeleke, follow me!” As the riot grew larger, we waded through the violent crowd as Imran took the lead. We were hit by several citizens, children and old men alike, and finally made it to the back room. Imran opened the large wooden door and walked in, letting Bardeleke and I in, slamming the door behind us.

Imran looked at me angrily. “Good job mentioning that you had illegal tomes of Necromancy, Warlord!” he proclaimed sarcastically.

“The people deserved an explanation, Imran!” I replied.

“That’s Father Imran to you! Damn pest.” Imran insulted. Bardeleke raised a hand. “What?” Imran asked.

“Both of you need to settle whatever differences you have now, before we have no chance. I have a feeling that it’s Photios they desire, not the tomes their master already has.” Bardeleke explained.

“And why would that be, guard?” Imran asked.

“Watch the tone, priest!” I ordered. He hushed his voice, and Bardeleke continued.

“Photios is the only one strong enough to use it. He is the soul savior of Oraklees, because he, in himself, can wield both Elemental magic and the sword better than anyone else. He is both the gem of the Royal Army and the weapon of King Emmanuel.” Bardeleke explained. “Only you can kill this Necromancer. Once he dies, so do these Revenants.”

Imran’s expression turned from angry to confused. “Do you suggest he embarks on this journey and we sit here and wait?” he asked.

“No, I suggest he puts his powers to the test. He can use his Elemental magic whenever he pleases, but magic will not be enough. He needs a weapon.” Bardeleke suggested.

I looked around the room for a weapon. Candles, wood, glass. None of these would work as weapons. But then my eyes stopped on the metal cross on the wall, thin and sharp, almost as if the top was... a hilt. “God has sent us a miracle.” I stated, beginning to walk toward the cross.

Imran caught on immediately. “No, you cannot. That is a piece of holiness, not to be used for unholy things. Leave that cross alone.”

I pondered how to use the cross as well as make Imran believe this could be to our advantage. “Well...” I began. “The purpose would not be unholy. This cross, as well as the one in the main room, allow this place to not be attacked by Revenants. All the cross would do it rid of those Revenants.”

“But you would sacrifice the area outside of the church!” Imran shouted.

“No one stands on that ground.” Immediately, I took the cross off the wall, my arms stretching far. Imran looked away, and Bardeleke looked at me, amazed. This weapon fit me perfectly. Its weight was pristine, as well as its length. The edges of it were sharp, not flat as many usually were. The hilt of this holy blade, though, was rounded and easy to grip. My weapon of choice.

Though my body was vulnerable, I had one weapon that could kill a Revenant in one strike. A tool to win this war. Imran no longer interjected on my ideas, and Bardeleke said nothing at all as we walked out of the room, back to the rioting citizens. I wanted to go kill these monsters so incredibly much. I became very impatient with the idiots I would have to save. “Enough of this!” I commanded, voice booming over the angered fools. I held the cross high, and the voices immediately hushed. “I need the armor of a guard who is around my size. Now!”

All the guards in the room reported to me as Imran walked to the altar. “If everyone can take a seat, we may explain. Sit down, everyone.” he ordered. The people listened to him, and all found their seats, fitting everyone in. During that time, in the back room, I was given the armor of another man called Roy. The leather armor was detailed, bearing the insignia of the lion, golden on the black leather. The helmet was the same, the shield as well. Under the leather armor was chain mail, making the armor very heavy for them, but not so for me. I could still move faster than most in this armor. All the armor was perfect for my body. Roy and I walked from the back room, I in his armor, he in the clothes he wore daily. Imran looked toward me, knowing that the crowd finally calmed down. The room was silent besides my footsteps as I walked toward the altar. “People, I present to you, Photios Thanasis.”

No one objected me wearing their village’s armor, which was very good in my situation, but they looked confused at the cross in my hand. Imran left the altar and that was where I stood. “People, you all believe in God. You all believe that holiness is the key to miracles. Well, God has sent us a miracle. A weapon that can destroy our enemy in one foul swoop.” I explained. “This cross, by chance, was build sharp like a blade, and rounded like a hilt, and contains the power that kept the grounds of this place holy. That is why I ask all citizens to stay inside, where you will still be safe.” I looked over to the line of guards on the left wall, patiently standing. “Where is Rtabn? He knows this place better than I, and is your superior, correct?”

“Rtabn never made it to the church, I watched him die by the hand of one of those... things.” A guard explained. “He died with honor.”

“And his honor will be carried on.” I stated, smiling. “Bardeleke, I deem you captain of these men now.”

“The rookie?” A guard asked. “You have no right! I was the second in command! I should be captain!”

“Bardeleke is the wisest of you I have met. He saved me from rotting in one of your dungeons by the hand of Rtabn, so he is the captain.” I demanded. “He will lead you all to form defensive positions on this side of the village, as I will travel to the other side, to the library, to retrieve the tomes of Necromancy Orn translated for me.”

“But, Photios, it is you they desire. Why sacrifice yourself?” Bardeleke asked.

“It will not be a sacrifice with this in my hands.” I replied, smiling. “I will return, I promise you. All of you will return home by dawn, I assure you.” At that, I jumped over the altar, and began to walk outside, the guards following me. I did not look back to them as Bardeleke set up the defenses. All I saw were the burning buildings, dead bodies, and hungry Revenants before me. They wanted my head. I would not give it to them.