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Orbis: The Necromancer

Author: PenguinSam64
Fantasy
Ongoing · 49.5K Views
  • 56 Chs
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Synopsis

His father recently deceased, the young and now Archmage Das, will be forced to take his mantle and immediately tackle a potential threat that may spell the end of the world as it's known. He is the last mage in the continent of Gerados and despite his young age and inexperience, with the help of his bloodsucking fairy teacher Drachen and his own determination to help this land in need, he will grow to become one of the most powerful mages in history. When the menace of a strange and new type of magic appears, Necromancy, Das will have to choose between learning the new art that slowly drains the life out of its practitioners, or not and try to defeat the new enemies of the Kingdom with the equally destructive magic that is his curse since birth. A story about war, tragedy, sacrifice, loss. Exploring the repercussions in one's mind and the world itself due to hatred and fear. Will Das be able to fight this new threat without losing his humanity in an inhuman world?

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Chapter 1Death

The window, that hole on the stone wall. Mocking him, his cruel fate bestowed since birth was weighing on him more than ever before.

Swords clashed as war cries filled the deep forest sheltering the warring men and women beneath the shadow of their leaves from the sun. Together with the barking of orders, the scream of horses, and the sound of steel hitting steel, there was hissing, raspy voices shouting in some type of guttural tongue that sounded ancient.

He feels it, nearing close. Destiny.

Falling on his knees, the staff he barely holds begins to shake and takes flight, shooting through the trees and taking his worn cloak with it, exposing a body covered in dirty bandages, what little skin is revealed, it is red and twisted.

His darkened unnatural eyes have red irises, and he looks at his bandaged hands with a maniacal smile. Laughter escapes from his lips, pained, groaning laughter of someone who has lost himself.

His hand stretches forward "The window" He whispers in between laughs, the world around him losing sense as the sound muffles and goes away "Ah, the window" He says again, as everything goes black except for the haunting image of the window.

A hole in the wall, dividing his world. Testament of their faith.

His arm falls to his side and his entire body goes limp. One last time the bandages near his eyes get wet with tears and his mind is invaded by one last thought.

"Das," He thinks before he is no more.

That was two days ago.

The city below was noisy, no matter the hour of the day. Be it by carriages filled to the brim with furs, trinkets, or expensive silk in the day, or by open bars and festive plazas filled with people at night.

Inside the walls of the palace grounds, all that could be heard was the metallic and rhythmic footsteps of the training knights soon to be sent to the walls and inner hallways and corridors of the magnificent structure.

All the noise was a little distracting, overwhelming maybe to some, but he welcomed the diversion from his inner thoughts. Arguably louder than a thundering charge of an armed cavalry.

"...Nothing good comes from thinking too much. Das..."

His father's old, weakened voice still made an echo inside of his head, each letter sending a brief pain directly to his chest. He clenched the cloth of his grey tunic tightly around it.

Taking a deep breath he relaxed a little bit and leaned on the window of his new bedroom. The room itself was filled with all types of books and scrolls, some brand new while others were already brownish in color, their intoxicating smell dominated the bedroom.

Plain bed, simple desks. It was a humble-looking bedroom, but it served its purpose before and it would keep on doing so no matter who laid on the old creaky wooden bed or sat for hours in the night on one of the chairs.

Das rested his head on his left hand while the right laid on the big hole in the wall some would call window, his fingers caressed the holes in it, a sign of iron bars that once made this place less welcoming than now.

His hazel eyes looked down on the city while his jet black silky hair gently moved from the breeze that softly whispered on his ears and caressed his face as if trying to calm his racing heart. His skin was almost white as if he had no blood and fair.

He looked down from his tower, the highest in the royal palace, directly in the middle of Haustat, the capital of the Blutlöwes kingdom, or the Red kingdom as outsiders call it. It is a title earned by the ruby-colored flags that bear the proud silver lion of the Blutlöwes royal family, or by the bloody wars that its patriarch, the King of Kings, Lowin The Ambitious, waged to form it thirty-five years ago.

The city looked so comforting at times, to him, who rarely ever left the palace, it was often intimidating or frightening even. But now, that morning, it almost called to him.

The crowd of people, like a river of tiny ants, seemed the perfect place to walk in and vanish, never to be found again.

His melancholic stare soon found the walls that surrounded the city, for this was the wealthy part of it, the stone walls stood tall and proud, done a few years ago.

The flags resting on them stretched every few dozen meters, a constant reminder to everyone living there of who they had to thank for the wealth and safety.

Beyond the wall, there were even more houses and watchtowers, smoke coming from bakeries and blacksmiths raised all the way up and dissipated.

Even further, in the vast farmlands, wheat was the majority of crops being raised, the golden sea that seemingly surrounded the capital was captivating and enchanting even, with summer just beginning, it would be a few months until harvest and the gold be turned into a boring brown of recently plowed dirt in preparation for next spring.

All of it under the welcoming and tender blue sky. It truly was a marvelous view.

But it was enough delaying the inevitable, not that he was actually doing so. It would be a dangerous game to make the King wait, he was half hour early to the meeting with him.

He moved away from the window and his bed, standing still on the stone floor he stretched, he was thin and frankly looked a little feeble. his talents didn't require much physical activity.

Wearing a plain-looking grey robe that reached below his hips tied on the waist by a belt, dark linen pants, and brown leather boots that went up to his knees.

Soon he walked up to one of the three desks and sat down in front of it, first he raised his hand contemplating if moving the mountain of books and scrolls gently was an option, but a quick glance around his room proved enough to convince him they would be a bother on the desk or the floor anyways, and he needs to free space.

In one swoop of his arms, the desk was cleaned, revealing a circular mirror reflecting him.

"By Irthis, you look awful" A feminine and mocking voice exclaimed followed by a giggling laugh.

From his hair that reached all the way down to his waist, a tiny head popped up.

"I wake up like this every morning, Drachen" Das replied while rolling his eyes and placing a tiny chest on the desk.

"I know! But maybe if I keep reminding you, you will try to sleep earlier. I've seen old lettuces more groomed than you" The tiny girl quickly flew away from Das attempt to snatch her from his hair and hovered a safe distance from his reach.

It was a hand-sized fairy, her body softly shinned with a white glow, her delicate parts covered by a single long braid of hair that twisted itself around her body all the way down to her crotch making some sort of improvised underwear and the end of the braid hung like a tiny tail behind her.

Her skin was ghostly white and under the correct lighting, a little transparent, while her hair was a strong orange, just like her eyes that had no pupils. Big bushy orange eyelashes and an almost frightening collection of sharp shark teeth were visible in her teasing ear-to-ear smile. Ears that were long and pointy.

"Shut up, you parasite," he said this time giving her a faint smile.

"Is it because I suck your blood? lame people's blood is so yummy~" she held her face with an expression filled with pleasure, letting out her freakishly long tongue.

"You are a creep" Das returned his attention to the mirror, and pulled out a hair comb.

"Try starving for a few hundred years in a rock and even bread will taste like ambrosia" she lazily hovered in front of his face as if she was laying on top of something.

Annoyed, he moved her way so he could keep fixing his hair.

Her grin vanished as soon as she noticed the bandages on his arms that covered even the fingers, letting escape only glimpses of black nails. She looked a little concerned as she flew closer to him.

"But, honestly now, are you feeling alright?" This made him stop.

He placed the comb back into the chest and closed it, looking at it with no discernible expression.

A brief memory occupied his head, a frail hand stretching forward with the same chest his hands hold and a slight smile hidden by a black beard with white strikes.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." He pushed the chest forward and stood up from the chair "Just a little nervous"

Drachen crossed her arms on her chest and looked aside, considering if pointing out the obvious would be a good or bad thing, but soon enough, she made her decision.

"Those are new bandages" she watched Das walk up to a wardrobe so she followed him close.

"I did felt a little upset, so they opened up again. But they didn't spread or anything so don't worry about it" Das dismissed her concern and focused on the many cloaks he had to choose from.

"When I'm sleeping I really don't know what's going on around me, so I lost the day he passed away...but you know you can count on me, for anything, alright?!" She angrily flew in front of his face once again, frowning as she intensely looked directly into his eyes.

"I know, Drachen" he giggled, easing up his concerned companion " Now, a red cloak for bootlicking or a black one for that Mysterious Mage feeling?" He asked her while holding his chin and looking past her.

Drachen smiled satisfied and turned around copying his expression.

"Hmm, considering you will go meet the man that can order your execution on a whim, I would say go for the bootlicking one" she pointed at the mentioned one with an aloof face.

"You got a fair point there"

With a motion of his hand, the cloak moved away from the wardrobe and placed itself on top of him as he turned around. It was fairly good silk, with intertwining silver lines on its edges, long enough to be a drag on the floor and with a white hood that immediately swallowed his head, almost covering his eyes while leaving enough to look ahead of him when walking.

"If you excuse me" Drachen appeared in front of him wearing a handmade cloak of her own, it looked old and it had stitched patches made with clearly different cloths, she disappeared inside of his hair once again only to re-appear as she leaned on his shoulder, her body missing inside the onyx hair from the shoulders down.

"Are you really going to wear that old sock?"

"It is my treasure!" She happily yelled while stretching her head inside of her hood, her shark teeth visible thanks to her wide smile.

Das allowed himself one more smile, he stretched his hands towards the iron handle, but before he could reach it Drachen spoke.

"Wait!, you forget the staff, Das"

He clenched his hand briefly and lowered it.

Turning his body around he stared at the staff that once belonged to his father, resting next to the wardrobe, covered by a brown cloak, laid the staff. A faint glow came from its spherical head.

After a brief hesitation, Das extended his right arm forward and called it to him just like he had done so before with the cloak. It answered and raised itself from the floor, slowly making its way to him as the glow grew stronger and the garment fell down.

Revealing an exquisite looking staff made with wood as the body and a bronze hand that held the glowing white orb of crystal on its head, the hand then went all the way down in a line around it, soon turning scaly, to end with the head of a snake, its mouth open ready to attack.

Soon his hand connected with it and the orb that had been gaining and losing intensity now maintained its soft glow, having linked with the power of its new wielder.

Das returned his attention to the door.

"It's your first day anyway, so don't worry too much" She offered encouraging words right before disappearing inside his hair.

Das held the handle and twisted, opening the door.

It was the moment to take on the world with his new duty, not the time to be afraid.

What is the worst that could happen on his first day after all?.

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