Chapter nineteen: Opening the doors to the arcane.

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~~~~(Point of view: Azrael Sanchez)~~~~

~~~~(Date: 275 AC)~~~~

As I prepared to close the carriage door and sit back in my chair, loud knocks sounded on the door, making me groan in dissatisfaction. 

"My Khal!" I heard Gezro's voice on the other side of the door. 

I just walked over to the table where Mirri had left the tankard, only to stop when I heard something disturbing: "We need your help; something is up with some members of the Khalasar." 

'Something's up' I thought, Mirri. Damn witch, I must have prolonged your suffering. 

I didn't know for sure if Mirri had anything to do with it, but a hunch told me it was her doing. 

Opening the door, Gezro's anxious face greeted me. "Take me to them," I said, not letting him speak. 

Gezro only nodded, and leading my horse out of the stable near my carriage, I headed for the center of the Khalasar. 

Unlike ordinary Khalasars, my Khalasar had a giant common square, which was surrounded by carriages that formed around the square in the shape of interposed rings, with enough space between each to ride through. 

Gone were the ugly, smelly tents, replaced by large tents made of leather, wool, and thread, made by the furriers. 

Now, a grim scene was visible in one of those large tents long before I entered it. 

Approaching, I watched as several Dothraki women entered with buckets of water and blankets, while the voices of several healers could be heard inside. 

Opening the canvas door, I was greeted by the strong smell of medicinal herbs diluted in the air, with at least twenty Dothraki with their pale complexions and some vomiting a strange thick black liquid, similar to oil, only with a strong smell of Sulfur. 

"What happened?" I asked one of the healers, named Renma. 

Renma, letting out a small sigh, shook her head and said, "I don't know, my Khal, from one moment to the next, several fell to the ground and started vomiting." 

Knowing that I would not get any answers for the moment, I approached one of the sick Dothraki, and, after giving him a health potion, I managed to see how his lucidity improved. He then vomited more black liquid, and in addition to this, some kind of red stomach worms also came out, writhing. 

The Dothraki, having finished vomiting everything, lay back on his stool already better, breathing normally and with a better disposition in his body. "My Khal, I would never betray him." 

Squinting, I focused on what he said: betray me?' 

"What do you mean, betray me?" I asked, to which he looked at me with a conflicted look, so hardening my gaze, I forced him to answer me. 

"I thought about doing it, my Khal; my mind was commanding me to, but I swear I didn't want to," he said in a cracked and broken voice, apparently having a hard time telling me that. 

With that, I understood that Mirri must have done something to make some Dothraki betray me and attempt against me; for sure, in doing so, they could have killed me if I was normal, which would make the Khalasar break and divide, eradicating the Khalasar: "Your mind?" 

"Yes... My mind was telling me to kill him; I even thought of attacking Amanda, but others had already beaten me to it, and since I saw that he had discovered the treachery, I hid and prepared to attack him," spoke the man with a stern voice, while looking at him with a cold countenance. 

"But I swear to you that I no longer think of betraying you, my Khal! I'll cut off my braid if you don't believe me." 

Determined to heal the other Dothraki and thus get out of the tent quickly without having to kill anyone, I set about applying potions to the other sick Dothraki, and once they were well, I immediately left the tent. 

Without so much as a word to my blood riders, I headed for my carriage. First-hand experience with the arcane arts practiced in this world was an eye-opener. I may have had the most formidable warriors in existence, along with the company of beasts at my service, but if a simple curse or supernatural power touched me, I could die, and I knew how easy it was to die that way since I had done it myself with the help of Minecraft's enchanted books. 

Now, I hadn't dabbled in using all of Minecraft's enchanted books, only having used the unbreakable enchantment on a spoon and the breathing enchantment to test how long I managed to stay underwater without needing to breathe, which gave me a surprisingly long range of two hours.

And now, with the well-known vanishing curse, every time I used those books, I had no problem; I only had to have direct contact with the book, and I could cast the incantation with my free hand, either to something or to myself. Beyond any other procedure, I did not understand anything, especially because the book was full of strange language, with its letters in the form of griffins and symbols that I did not understand. 

Still, I was not a magic user; I could not know if any had been applied or if I had been a victim of any, which is why I needed help in that field. 

Magic in this world was not very strong, however; that did not mean it was not deadly, thinking of the shadow summoners, the sorcerers of the house of the eternal ones in Qarth, the thousands of practitioners of sorcery and witchcraft in Asshai, the Rhoynar with their water magic, the Valyrios with their blood and fire magic, even the first men with the ability to see the past, present and future, not to mention the children of the forest, the Warg and the Red Priests. 

All of these beings possessed magic in their blood, whether they used it for good or evil, mainly for the latter. Then, I had to have my defense for it. 

I had two beings in mind, the Evokers or the witches, and while the Evokers could summon demonic entities called Vexes to attack their enemy, as well as make spikes come out of the ground to hurt, I was not motivated by them, considering they were related to the pillagers, and while I would summon them, it would be later on in a safer and more protected environment. 

So, I decided on witches, which were users of offensive and defensive magic, while being immune to various types of attacks, in addition to being almost mostly friendly to the villagers. 

Arriving at my carriage, I got off my steed and led him to the stable, where I then removed his saddle and left him free to rest. 

I decided not to enter my carriage, since for what I was about to do, the safety of my wolves offered me additional comfort, which they could not do if I was inside it. 

Using concrete, I created a small cubicle, with a line of glass at eye level, as well as placed a lantern inside, thanks to the darkness. 

Determined to move forward, I spurred Minecraft's first hostile being into this world, and immediately felt the atmosphere grow cold and heavy. At the same time, my hair stood on end, and I felt as if my head had grown larger. 

Inside the cubicle, through what the glass let me see, I saw how it had suddenly become darker inside, with the light from the flashlight being dimmed. 

In the cubicle, there stood a person with his back to me, dressed completely in black, from head to toe, so dark that it seemed to absorb the light. 

"Hahaha!" 

Suddenly I heard a low, melodic laugh, as if they had laughed right in my ear, volleying to either side. I just watched as my wolves stood with bristling hair and in attack pose, wagging their tails back and forth slowly. 

"You don't need to look around; you just need to look at the front..... My Creator." 

With those soft words, which did nothing to make my heartbeat calm down, I watched as the being turned around. 

The... woman, with an ethereal beauty, greeted me, with pale white skin, almost like porcelain, with lips painted red and black, making fire with the outline of her eyes, which were the same black as her clothes. 

However, what stood out the most were her black eyes with orange and red flecks, along with blurred lines on her cheekbones.

(Image)

"A new world, full of evil and misery, perfect for thriving, perfect for advancing, perfect for vindication," the woman began to say, as she approached the glass that allowed me to see her. 

"What is your name?" Gathering courage, I asked her name. 

"I have been called by several names over the many years of my existence: Merida, Gabriel, Pseudonomius, Valka... but you... my creator, you may call me as I wish." The woman answered me with a small smile on her mouth. 

Determined to hope that she had loyalty, as well as the villagers, I asked her the million-dollar question, "What does it mean to be your creator?" 

The woman, smiling in an almost fanatical manner, rested her palms on the glass, causing my wolves to growl at her. "You have given me life; you have made me breathe this air full of death and desolation; for that alone, you have my thanks; however, you have given me a second chance at a start, and for that alone, my unquestioning loyalty is to you... my creator." 

Nodding, I stared at her for a while. The memory of the encounter with magic prevented me from believing her completely, but at least what she said she meant sincerely... or so I thought, but that didn't make some external measures unwelcome.

"Would you accept an incantation of loyalty?" I asked, aware that the power of the enchantment in the book was overwhelming. 

Since I had used it on a wild wolf, instead of taming it, I cast a loyalty charm on it, and while it did not possess the mental bond as with the wolves I had tamed, I did sense that the wolf would do as I told it to, as evidenced by my ordering it to dive into lava, throwing itself into it without thinking. Fortunately, I was able to save him before he died, and now I had six wolves by my side.

"If that is what my creator wishes, I will gladly do it." I heard the woman's voice, and, nodding, I obtained the book of the loyalty incantation and cast the incantation on the witch. 

After that, I felt her presence much more passable, as if her energy had calmed down more, to the point where my hair stopped bristling. 

Valka, as I had decided she would be called, spoke to me: "Is that enough, my creator?" 

Nodding, I decided to remove the concrete blocks that held her captive, letting her out and appreciating her physique, realizing that she was beautiful—a very different counterpart to the game.