Hungry Necromancer

Standing at the end of the bed, I can't combat the feeling of apprehension as I gaze upon Leriva. Watching her sleep so peacefully yet her fate hangs in a nigh permanent turmoil, the thought of her ailment seems so...mild and trifling, but looking upon her now, her red hair no longer in the usual double bun but now spills forth like a water fall behind her still head.

Her eyes are sealed shut, the bright brown eyes that challenged me and burned bright in battle now hidden away behind her eyelids and the tight, calm visage of shy death that washes over her as she sleeps.

It scares me.

In my past life I'd been fortunate not to have a loved one succumb to illness or accident that slips them into a coma, this death-like sleep. It's fascinating to think and ponder about without facing it, but it's terribly frightening now that I see it with my own eyes.

There aren't any beeping monitors or catheters around to keep her alive, fed and cleaned, nor to give the room an extra flare of grim. Instead, there is an army of maids and servants tending to her every need, there's Mathilda spilling over her and sobbing every so often and there's her stillness.

The worst thing of all is how still she is, not like she's dead or anything no, like she's asleep, like all you need to do is shake her up a bit and she'll grumble for some more time in bed and yawn tiredly. The deception.

I beg myself to look away and after many minutes I do, my eyes long since dried up I blink out the water that'd gathered up and address Mathilda as I intended to the moment, I walked in.

"Mathilda, could I have a word please?"

Mathilda is again spilled over her lover, hushing words into her ears and breaking into short sobs. I call out her name once more for good measure and this time she rises, wiping her face clean with a cloth she produces from her pockets before turning to grace me with her swollen face.

She smiles and sniffles as she speaks, "Ah, uh, she's not awake yet if that's what you were coming to check on."

Rather than cut to the chase I linger on Leriva a bit, "You explained her problem to me, is there nothing anyone can do for her?"

"Oh, it's not a serious problem, it's a tricky one if it gets out of hand but these days it's very easy to treat." She says dismissively.

I blink, confused, "Isn't this life threatening?"

She chuckles, still fidgeting with her cloth and her face as she speaks, "Oh yes, it is. If it's untreated."

"So…then you're treating her?"

At last, she sees my confusion and it dawns on her how ignorant I am, "Ah, we can't treat her. It's easy to do so, all you need is a potion from any novice alchemist really."

Alchemy?

"So, what's the issue then?"

She heaves a sigh, her shoulders dropping so low I think she's about to collapse, "We're not part of the Synagogue. We're not recognized by House Carbina either. We're outcasts through and through because…"

I quirk an eyebrow and urge her to finish her sentence, "Because…?"

"Because we love each other."

Oh. Why is that all? Well, I suppose I'm a bit more forward thinking than a bunch of people living a Medieval lifestyle can possibly be.

Still, I'm curious, "Don't Nobles get to frolic with whomever they want?"

Mathilda guides me to take a seat at the little parlour Leriva has in her room. We take a seat and again she sighs, "Not when it interferes with your duty. Our love cost her family a marriage tie with another prominent House. To get her to do as they demand, her family threatened to expose her to the Vicar, to the Synagogue, they threatened to strip her of all the privileges to retains as a Mage; knowledge, sanctuary…potions."

Her eyes light up as she snickers at the memory, "For some reason, she thought I was worth it all, worth all the trouble of being cut off from everything. But her defiance only served to further enrage her Mother. She was tossed out, for picking a woman as a lover and a commoner at that. Fortunately, her Father still held some heart in him and granted her this fief, I don't know much else after this."

I nod, and we sit in a comfortable silence as I ponder; I finally understand why Leriva was so doubtful of the Following coming to her aid. Still, this story brought me more questions of the Synagogue. How do they manage to control everything? Are they no illegal black markets or merchants willing to sell to someone outcast from the Synagogue?

Carbina trades with Aste and other towns and villages nearby, do they refuse to export goods that are controlled by the Synagogue to Carbina because the Mayor happens to be an outcast? I've got many more questions but first I must ask the ones that brought me here.

"Mathilda." I begin. She hums a response, picking at her fingernails with other fingernails. "I need to go." I announce.

Her head shoots up, her absentmindedness no more as she blinks ever so slowly at me, "What?"

"I need to go." I repeat. "I need to leave Carbina."

"You mean you want to leave." her shock barely allowing her voice go beyond a whisper.

"Well, yes. But I'll be back and soon."

She blinks, raising her head to look at me at last, "You'll be back? Where are you going? The Cultists are still around and you mentioned Leriva was right, they do want to kill us all."

I sigh as I realize this might be a bit harder with her aware of the Cultist's still active plan to sacrifice them all.

"Look, don't panic, I just need to get to Aste and get the Following or any Mage that I can hire."

She shakes her head solemnly, "Do you have an ID?"

"What?"

"I thought so. You aren't registered with the Synagogue and you won't be registered either."

I've been travelling about the Kingdom unimpeded for so long it didn't really occur to me that I held no means of identification. "What do I need the ID for? And why won't I be registered?"

"The Church controls many of the Hunter guilds that are littered about the continent, if you have an ID with the church and a citizenship with the Kingdom you can hire Mages or Hunters to do jobs for you from the Hunter guilds."

Well, I'm a bit lost but she knows that judging by the exasperated look she's giving me.

"You don't have an ID and you can't register with the Synagogue because you're a wanted Necromage. You're practicing one of the forbidden Magical Arts!" she huffs.

"Well, Anselm can go in then, they won't recognize him."

"Anselm is dead." She deadpans.

"Sometimes he is."

"Yes, but the ID is magically implanted, it's a seal that's scribbled unto your skin permanently." She raises her sleeve and flicks her wrist at my face. A little infusion of mana and a circular seal becomes visible.

"Right. That wouldn't take with Anselm, can't etch mana unto mana, can you?

Her shaking head cements my disappointment and ruins my plans. Who knew being a wanted man would limit your service options?

"I'll just have to figure something out. A bit of coin will no doubt grease many hands." I sigh, this is very depressing knowledge to come by at now. This just means walking into the centre of the March and buying sweet Nobility is no longer a feasible plan if I'm instantly recognizable as the foul Necromage.

"Perhaps, but really concerns me is the six days or more it'll take for you to get back, if you truly plan on returning that is." She scoffs.

It takes three or four days to get to Aste by carriage many more by foot. Which is why I'm glad she spoke as though I'd be going by carriage, "I was actually coming in to ask you for some supplies for the journey, a carriage, some food and coin." I have more than enough coin but even more wouldn't hurt would it?

She gives me a strange look like I'm crazy, "You took over the village, Asher, why are you asking me?"

Immediately, I burst out laughing, "Right, you see it that way. I simply 'took over the village' so you could rule without question, like you are now."

"Oh."

"Still, I will be leaving. Since I don't need your permission to take what I need I'll simply help myself and be on my way. I promise I'll be back, might even bring a little something for Leriva."

She puts on a tight smile, "Yes, that would be nice." Is all she can bring herself to say before burying her face in her hands.

Hopefully I can do well by my word in Aste. If I can't hire some other Mages or draw the attention of the Following to Carbina's struggles then I'll have to make due with Leriva, and to make due with her she'd need to be awake.

Last resort? Send Anselm in to steal the potion. I'm sure he wouldn't mind.