Junior Rishika of Érdélin [2]

Necromancy was dark magic.

Every kind of magic involving life and death would require some kind of blood price to pay, be it small or big. Many of its rituals would require life sacrifices—human sacrifice wasn't out of the limit.

It was the kind of magic that was like poison in itself, corrupting the caster be it slowly or instantly. There were not many rishis who were crazy enough to take such risks. Even lesser in number were those who would use that kind of dark magic for the greater good of humanity.

The Great Mantara was renowned and wielded so much authority because of that one thing.

In the grey areas where political and supernatural power must coexist, Samira was the latest pawn.

The young rishika weaved a mental barrier to protect herself from the creature's onslaught of malevolent energy. She also suppressed the summoned soul with a magic array, drawn with charcoal dipped in the creature's blood and the oil decoction.

The creature had no body, no lungs with which to breathe, and no vocal chord. It wasn't a full resurrection but more of a soul summoning using the corpse as a medium. The voice that spoke to them were from the soul's power.

And with how powerful it sounded, the creature's soul contained that much power.

[Delicious blood. Delicious. Give me more.]

[Answer my question truthfully.] Samira ignored the creatures lewd gesture of tongue wagging.

[Where do you come from? Who sent you to this plane?]

Her command activated the constriction upon the summoned soul. The creature howled in pain as its soul were sliced by curses as long as it resisted the command or if it answered with lies. But it was also taxing on Samira. Her head was throbbing with blinding pain. There was pressure from the inside, as if her eardrums could burst at any time. Blood began to drip from her nose.

[Answer the question, summoned one.]

She put more power into her array and finally the creature croaked out.

[Pa—Patalaa-aaagh! Make it stop! You bitch! I'll tore you to pieces and eat you alive!]

[You can't. You're already dead.] Samira calmly wiped the blood from under her nose.

[Speak. Who sent you?]

The creature howled in pain again and he didn't answer no matter how much power Samira put into the spell. The stone table was shaking from the force of the creature's soul. Gashes formed on the surface as if clawed by invisible talons.

"Change the question," ordered Isvar Kaimana who was observing the whole thing without interrupting before. His expression was severe. "There might be no one who sent him here. Ask him why he's here."

Samira obeyed and asked. [Why are you here?]

And Kaimana was right, the monster immediately speak. She could feel less resistance to her powers. And surges of hazy images flooded her mind. The soul seemed to surrender itself to her, allowing glimpses into its memory. She saw flashes of a battlefield. A giant looming in the sky with ten heads and twenty arms.

[The... King... Find the king...]

[Which king? Who are you looking for?]

She saw a familiar white tree. It was a weeping fig, the trunk and its hanging roots were so white as if made from silver. The leaves yellowish green, they fell on a vast marble stone rampart. It spoke of another tree. A dark one. Its sibling.

The head was shaking harder, the stone table was cracking. All around her were spirits, attracted by such powerful rituals, they were speaking noisily among themselves. Waiting, watching for her to make a mistake. Hoping that they could take a bite of a rishi's flesh.

[Dashaanan.... The crowned Eela Vendhar—]

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

A shrill scream pierced the tense atmosphere and broke Samira's concentration. The fainted maid had regained conciousness and was once again screaming her heads off, scrambling to her feet and on the way knocking over mountains of books and other magical artifacts. Loud clattering was heard and then Samira suffered the backlash of her inattention.

The already delicate spell burst with a vengeance, causing her to cough out blood and keeled over in pain.

The summoned soul, freed from the constriction, then fully possessed the head and flew towards the escaping maid. Its jaw was wide open, aiming to bite the neck of the maid. Suddenly a blessed short sword flew in the air and pierced the monster's head to the wall. The maid screamed without stopping and fell shivering on to the floor.

"Release the spell, Samira!" shouted Isvar Kaimana who was using spells on the sword to suppress the rampaging head.

Samira who had fallen to the floor and was holding her hands up to maintain the spell gritted her teeth stubbornly. Her horrible appearance became more severe. The milky white eyes cause by the spell were dripping red tears, the blue veins on her face grew more stark in contrast to her paling skin. And all of that was in full view of the unfortunate maid who escorted the young rishika this morning.

"I'm not... done yet..."

"It's over. Release it at once! This is an order!"

With a frustrated scream she finally released the spell. The head instantly ceased to move, the soul possessing it was torn apart and its remnants were returned into the cycle of samsara. Kaimana ran to her side and help her sit up straight. Samira was ashen and bleeding from her nose and mouth. But her eyes were still fiery. Angry and milky white. She glared daggers at the maid. The very personification of the evil witch in children stories.

"You stupid fucking girl..." She hissed dangerously through her teeth. "GET OUT! SCRAM! Or I swear I will finish the monster's job and kill you myself!"

That yell caused intense pain in her chest and she coughed up more blood. The maid didn't need to be told twice before bolting out of the room, screaming about monsters and evil witches.

Samira was angry. She's furious. But more than being angry to the maid, she was angry to herself for being so careless. Samira had spent all her energy and could only rest her head on Kaimana's chest. The older man was checking on her pulse.

"Don't shout. Conserve your energy. You've suffered internal damages."

She only closed her eyes as an affirmation. This was the price human paid for meddling with the realm of gods. Necromancy required sacrifices on the caster themselves, she knew it all too well what could happen if a ritual goes wrong. She berated herself for her own stupidity.

"Did I hear correctly that it comes from Patala?" Kaimana whispered anxiously. The ever serious rishi only had his mind on the task at hand.

"Mm."

"An underworld creature in the middle realm... It comes from the west, across Akatara into Érdélin. Could it be..."

"The Dura Mountain." Samira croaked out weakly.

"And the king it was looking for, this Dashaanan or Eela Vendhar. Could it be that a new asura king has emerged? Or an old one? I need to look at the written records—no, wait. The council need to be informed immediately."

Kaimana babbled animatedly, swaying the wounded Samira unconsciously. She felt like she could barf out her innards. Sadly, she didn't have any energy left to tell Kaimana to stop.

"You've done this kingdom a great service, young Samira. Don't pass out yet! Pull yourself a little bit more! Don't let the stray spirits possess you. I've sent a sparrow message to inform the guards—"

She was starting to lose consciousness. She didn't even notice when Kaimana cast a bird messenger nor when did he cast a protective barrier around them. She also barely registered the sound of the door opening. A group of more senior maids in their colorful uniform stood and bowed politely before going to her side.

"We're sent by—to the—Halls. May we—"

Their voices were only hazy murmurs in her ears. Fragments of the outside world, she thought. And soon Samira succumbed to the sweet, blissful abandon of unconsciousness.