Star Haven; On the Brink of Winter

"Are all the tanks filled?  I want to be ready for departure as soon as possible.  Time is of the essence here."
"Yes Commander, everything is in order."
Commander Natalya Oerin hadn't gotten where she was by leaving things to chance.  She'd been born into battle, much as the other Nielda of her day had.  But unlike them, she knew the values of the old ways.  Not simply the massive strikes, the overwhelming naval superiority, or even the unfaltering dedication but the careful planning and constant vigilance.  The Seclorans still had it, and the Gravagans were basically made of it.  It felt wrong to think that the young powers grasped the old wisdoms better.  But then there it was.
"Sir, all weapons online.  Ammunition at full stock.  Our supplies are prepared for maximum possible duration."
"Good.  Are all the crew aboard?  I want to get back to the fight as soon as possible?"
"Its a patrol commander, not front lines.  They aren't going anywhere until we get there to relieve them."
"It's essential that the patrols be maintained.  The frost is already encroaching on the outer parts of the system, its only a matter of time before they arrive here as well.  Their agents are probably here already."
"The evacuation is already underway.  Our presence here is practically a formality Commander."
"I don't believe in formalities.  Its just that everyone has forgotten why things are done."  Even if the orders of the task force were just to provide military support in the evacuation and to delay the enemy if they arrived ahead of schedule, Natalya considered it the prerogative of all sane, living beings to interfere with all of the Frostbourne's operations.  And moreover, as an officer of the Daniellandish Navy, it was her sworn duty to kill any undead she encountered.  Among all the Frostbourne hordes, only the officers, corrupted immortals calling themselves Lych, could even possibly be considered alive.  And even then the jury was out.  All that could be certain was that no one had ever beaten one in battle and lived to tell.
Of course, considering the history of 'invincible' enemies, it was probably just that word hadn't made it down the ranks to her.  There was almost certainly an immortal somewhere who had managed it.  And surely the legendary pantheon was a match for several of them each.  But the rumors she'd heard said that one of them had lead an expedition in the early days, and none of them had returned.  They said that Arcania, the Immortal who ruled over the Frostbourne, had killed all of them with a glance, and used their frozen corpses to build a palace of ice.  No one had ever seen it though, so Natalya wasn't about to believe any of it.  Even the existence of a council of Immortals, this pantheon as they called it, was only legend.  And no one could verify that Arcania had an ice palace, and only vague reports and educated guesses gave them any indication that she existed.
"Sir.  Orders from command have arrived as scheduled.  They want you to receive them in person."
"Prep the ship for launch, have everyone on board by the time I return."

Short Story; The Empress' Daughter

Kate Immersfeld liked nothing better than a good book.

Her mother, the Empress of Gravaga, Dark Lady Thalia Immersfeld, high necromancer of all yada yada yada, was rather supportive of her interests, and had gladly provided her with access to a library full of every imaginable sort of book.  Books about fairy tales, faerie tails, spelling books and booking spells.  The non-fiction section could have filled a battleship, and it paled by comparison to the reference section.  But the section Kate liked to spend her time in the most was fiction.
Fairy tales were fun, full of mystical magics and witty heroes.  Stories of chivalrous knights who rescued the princess from horrible fates, sometimes with the aid of the horrible Fates, were the ones that she always loved best.  She liked entertain the fancy that someday a handsome knight might come along and rescue her from the monotony of the palace.  They would ride off on his white stallion, she would wear white and they would rule a quiet corner of her mother's kingdom in peace and harmony.  Haelio perhaps, with its tranquil gardens; or maybe Calcifron, she would certainly like to spend time in a library of her own there, where it always seemed to snow.

Kate sighed and returned a few of the worn tomes to the shelf, each one exactly where she'd set it so many times before.  It wasn't as though there was a lack of things to do on Gravaga.  The palace was always bustling, preparing for the coming of the next band of heroes or the comings and goings of her mother's chosen villains.  In only a few hours she would be expected to make an appearance herself.  Be the dragon to her mother's menace and humiliate the hero.  They'd be back of course, and she was already preparing the spells that would make her defeat seem more real, but today she would win and send them searching out her father, the one the populace called 'old cloaky'.  She often considered what would happen if she just killed them, or even if she threw the fight early.  It would make her parents annoyed at the least, but it would definitely give her more time to read.  It was just a question of whether or not it would be worth the trouble.
She picked up her staff and marched off through the door.  It didn't even take her an invocation to make the door bring her out in front of the marauding party of heroes.
"Where did you think you were going?"
"We're here to put an end to the dark lady's reign of terror!"
"Yeah, don't even try to stop us!"
"Oh, is that it then?  Alright, go on."
They stood there staring at her blankly.  She could feel the warriors behind the camera's hidden all around them flipping through their copies of the script, trying to figure out what was going on.  It made no difference to her whether they took up her offer or not, her mother would defeat them if she didn't.  More likely than not, they'd find the throne room empty.  Kate had it on reliable account that her parents were, to put it simply, enjoying their marital privilege.  If that were the case then they would simply wander around the palace for a while until Sarah came home and either ran them off or screwed with them, possibly without the 'with'.  There was really no way of telling which Sarah would do this time.  If they were really unlucky though, they'd find Cyssie's lab.  If they lived through that experience, they'd never adventure again.  Not that Cyssie would ever purposefully hurt anyone, just that her particular brand of science and magic tended to leave little room for mortality.
"Don't do it, she's trying to trick us."
"I don't know; maybe she's the other sort of princess.  You know, the not-evil kind."
"She's Thalia's daughter, of course she's evil."
"And I'll bet she's just the sort of person who would try and trick us."
"She can't be evil, she's pretty.  Evil people have to use magic to be pretty."
"What if she's using magic?"
Bit of an interesting turn there, most of the time they went out of sight to discuss her appearance.  She always heard them of course, but this group was a more bold than most.
"Can any of you use magic?  You could just try and dispel my enchantments, that would get rid of any illusions I might be using."
They stopped and stared at her.  Kate knew she was pushing the envelope now.  She was being outright friendly with them by her usual standards, it'd have people talking for weeks.  Her parents would probably have to rewrite scripts over this.  She had to suppress a smile at the thought of her father up to his elbows in edits.
"How do we know this isn't a trick?"
She plucked a flower out of the air.  It seemed like a flower anyways; she'd actually just simultaneously formed a flower from frost and enchanted it to be incredibly difficult to destroy.  She'd always found that hard to destroy actually turned out much more durable than merely indestructible the way most enchanters did it.  Indestructible had loopholes, durable was just really tough.  It would also keep it from melting, something that would have taken indestructible an extra spell.  Kate leaned in and set it on his armor, letting the ice adhere the flower to his left breast, where the pocket would have been had it been a shirt.
"You can't.  But if you're smart, then you should leave now.  My mother isn't here anyways, she's reviewing the armies on Negath.  My favor will grant you passage through the Empire without question, and grant you access to all but the most clandestine of locations."
The staring never seemed to cease today.
"Go, run before my sister comes.  If she sees you she will surely kill you all.  Good luck fair hero, I will watch your adventures with great interest."  She opened the door to the library and glanced back for a moment before delivering a final line.  "Great interest indeed."

Kate closed the door and collapsed against the wall laughing.  She felt so horridly wicked for having toyed with them like that.  But the rush that came from defying her parent's plans was like nothing she'd ever done before.  Maybe now they'd think twice about making her just a gatekeeper to the palace.  Now maybe they'd let her play the part she really wanted, now she could be a princess.

Short Story: Twelve Thousand Years in Coming.

There were so many names for magic users.  Mage was the prefered catch-all term, especially amongst Nielda.  The Ga-Vok always called a powerful mage 'Shaman', even though almost all knew the difference between their own ceremonious magic users and the bolt flinging warriors that tended to be recognized as powerful amongst mages.  Amongst the Harakai, and their more orderly, ritualistic style of magic such a mage would be known as a prophet, or a warlock, a term seldom heard beyond their borders.  To the Pythens the man would be known only as a menace, and most lesser races would view a truly powerful mage as a god.  Humans could be similarly fooled, but never for so long as most races.  His personal favorite term for the top-notch battle-mages that tended to stand out across the annals of time was that used by the Jaguans: Show Off.  
And he could say that, he was one of them.  


He wasn't the best, he'd met the best, she was one of the rudest most self-righteous people he'd ever met.  The next best happened to be in the next room, trying to pick which of her earings to wear to dinner.  The woman after her could be anywhere, but wherever it was, it would have grown much colder since she arrived.  He'd never asked who was number four, he was sort of hoping it was him.  But the most intimidating thing about all of them was that he had never seen any of them use magic in battle.  The first two had always used a blade, and the third could kill only at the cost of her life.  It made him wonder how much of their alleged skill was actually magical, and how much was just the survival rate of their adversaries.  If he were to operate purely on the basis of observed magical ability, then the most powerful mage would probably have been the mad scientist, Cysstronella Von Gravaga, even though it had been directly stated to him in the past that she couldn't throw a punch to save her life.  Informed magical ability simply didn't add up, but there was no polite way of asking them to demonstrate that they really were that powerful.  


"Be a dear and pass me the other box.  Nothing in this one matches my outfit."  
Krell picked up the indicated box of jewelry and set it down in front of his companion.  Normally he would have meant that only in that they traveled around the universe together stopping villains and seeing the sights; mostly seeing the sights.  Tonight however, was the annual cosmetic corporation's gala and fashion show.  Since Rea owned one of the companies, it would have been excruciatingly rude for her to not attend.  It would have also been rather odd, since she mostly paid for it and it was the only public appearance she made all year. Since they'd been travelling together for the past year, she'd invited him to accompany her.  
For anyone else he would have said no; he'd never had any interest in the business, or indeed business in general.  


"So why exactly did you want me to come anyways?"
Rea looked up and caught his eyes in the mirror.  "Because I like having you around.  Things are more fun when you have someone to do them with.  And I especially enjoy doing things with you."  
"You sure its not just that you want to show me off in front of all the corporate fat cats?"
"This is fashion Krell, the cats are skinny, very skinny.  But I'll make sure to point out my chief competitors so you can repeat the remark.  I want to see them squirm a little."
Krell smiled.  He could remember telling his aides something similar before attending a political ball.  There had been rather more at stake then, but the social dynamic was equivocal.  A bunch of insiders, who all knew each other's business and had more often than not been sleeping with the same people.  He was still the outsider, and he realized that even though Rea had probably intimidated these people's great grandparents at galas a half a millennia ago, she was still the outsider.  She paid for the party, she dominated the industry, but socially she was detached from the group.  Immortality did that, but not nearly as much as the having been fourteen the whole time.  He'd been an outsider to the council because he'd gotten there through skill and virtue, where most had inherited it or wheedled their way in.  He had been the knight in the court of thieves, and here she was the warrior in the court of illusion.  
"I think the amethyst studs would work fine with that outfit."
"They'll expect me to model the latest fashions.  Gaudy is in this year."
"It'll be televised, there's a recession going on, the people will find your style far more approachable than the usual fashions."
"Wear something that ordinary women could wear on their budget then?"
He nodded.  "People wear makeup to try and look beautiful.  It'd be good for their self-esteem to think that they actually have a chance at looking as good as the models they'll see tonight."
"Will they buy more that way?"
"If they think that what the distance is shorter, they'll be twice as likely to try.  They won't spend as much, but more will spend."  
"I think,"  She turned around to face him eye to eye.  "That you have no idea how this industry works."
"Guilty as charged."
Rea snapped, the frills on the dress vanished, all the ruffles receded, and the poofier bits deflated.  He noticed that she was already wearing the selected jewelry.  
"And I still look beautiful?"
He blushed.  Truth be told, he was rather more aware of it now that all the distracting ruffles and poof was gone.  Rea had been filling out well since the fight with Legion on Stormguarde.  She was nearly as tall as he was now, and her...features had..well she'd just grown up a lot.  It took a lot more steelsil for her to cover her entire body now, and even then she would never be mistaken for anything but a young woman.  
It wasn't just her body that had matured of course.  She was more calm than she had been before.  Still insatiably active, and the pace she kept was hard to keep up with; although he was getting better at doing so.  And a lot, although certainly not all, of her insecurities had diminished as well.  
She smiled.  "I hoped so.  You look quite dashing yourself."  She had a slight blush of her own, and not just from the makeup.  "Krell, about Anatolia."
"It wasn't your fault.  Zink loved the planet as much as you did.  It wouldn't have made any difference if you'd tried to stop her."
"No, not that.  You're right, it wouldn't have, but I actually meant at the library.  You said 'your last girlfriend'.  I know who you meant, but I kinda thought.  I mean it just sounded like you were saying I..that is to say that there was someone after that."
Oh..OH, she thought that he'd meant.  But that was..
Was it though?  They might as well have been.  They flirted all the time, even if he wasn't really trying to.  She'd clearly always found him attractive, and he wouldn't deny that he found her attractive.  They were like best friends, but not quite.  Was that what they were?  
"Rea, I didn't quite mean it like that.  I was joking around."  She'd been nervous the whole time she'd been asking the question, and now it was all replaced by a rush of disappointment and even a tinge of fear.  "But that doesn't mean it wasn't true.  I wasn't really thinking about it then.  But truth be told, it only came to mind because it felt true.  Rea, I haven't actually felt this way about someone in a long time, since Lewiza died.  But I do care about you.  And if you feel like what we have needs a label, I think dating would be the most fitting one."  She started to smile again.  One might even go so far as to say she was beaming.  
"You really suck at romance, you know that?  So what now?"  
"I'm a bit rusty on this, but I think we go to the party and continue as we've been going.  Maybe at the end of the night we kiss.  I think we should just play it by ea..."  Apparently the end of the night was longer than she wanted to wait.  And after having waited nearly twelve thousand years for it, he could hardly blame her for not wanting to wait another couple hours for her first kiss.  

Short Story: The Hunter

The trees rustled as he passed, the air displaced as he moved displacing them also.  The vines, normally so aggressive, drew to the sides of the path.  They sought easier prey for their snares, a rabbit or a goat perhaps.  A bird squawked in the distance, whether from victorious joy or despair at its own mortality made no difference to him, only that it would not be hunting.  On Anatolia, you learned young that little else mattered.

He had caught the scent four days prior.  It was distinctive, and telling.  Too much soap meant they were off-worlders.  Were it not for that, the smell of tea would have been enough.  One was a man, the other a woman; there was no word for the difference.  Those who wrote dictionaries did not need to smell the difference; to them it was simply apparent.  The girl was younger, but not by too much.  There was no blood though; that was unusual even for a local.  Injury was a fact of life in the shade-wastes.  Coupled with the way the corpses that trailed behind them felt, he could be certain that they were powerful mages; likely the strongest anyone in the Ankra briars had ever encountered in his lifetime.  Indeed, they may have been the strongest the planet had seen since the day of ruin.  

Ohgar was cautious.  It would take patience and cunning to get close enough to determine their names.  But if he could determine their names, then the clan would be able to command them against their enemies.  And he was Ohgar, who had dominated Aren, the bloodthirsty; Ohgar, who had stood against the Jan-Tat clan with only his spear.  If anyone could command these off-worlders, it would be him.  He slipped through the brush and climbed into the Nautin tree, caressing the spines of its leaves to soothe its fury as his father had taught him.  He leaned across the path and waited for them to pass, letting the roiling thicket conceal him and his thoughts.  

"Quite a change after Skiing on Nepalya.  How's the leg?"  The man wore a long sleeve shirt, it had stayed pressed and even despite the efforts of the local flora, and his boots were stiff and tall.  

"Its fine, just a little sore."  The girl was clothed like one of the Mountain Clan, her body wrapped in the soft-strong armor they wore.  And Ohgar had to clutch at his stomach to control the nauseating pain that the smell of her right glove's enchantments was giving him.  It was blood, bone, and the unnatural pure from the heart of the steps of the ruins.  It was like the smell of death, but with all the spirits exorcised from it.  Like life, but cleansed of those things that made it worth living.  The smell was pure, and its very presence stung his mind.  

"So you do this every year?"

"Someone very important died here, on the steps of her favorite part of the palace.  Its the only part that still stands."  She paused, though he could still hear them walking.  "Its the only part of the planet that they couldn't touch.  She actually moved one of the stone circles here to help protect it."

"What do you think she kept there?"

"She created two things that could not be.  You've already met Petra, and Koren isn't likely to share the Omnipedia; everything else she just collected."

"Rea, that wasn't really an answer."

There was one.  And the first thing he'd do was force her to take off that cursed gauntlet and throw it into the bright place.  

"Just look at it, what do you think she kept there?"

They were both quiet.  They faced the bright place; the point hovering above the heart of the Briar.  It was not far above them, it could be reached with an unaided jump.  But none dared touch it; its very presence held back the thicket, and no beast could stand to be too close to it.  They said it was a place the spirits feared to go.  And Ohgar was inclined to agree with them.  

"I'm gonna go with books.  Seems like she liked books an awful lot."  

"I think most of the truly powerful like books.  Even I sometimes get the urge to go on a bit of a reading binge."

"Tabloids don't count."

"I know, that's why I said 'binge'"

"So you just come and pay your respects to her?"

"Not her.  There's someone else, someone buried in the Library."

"Your brother?"

"Him?  No, he was buried on top of a mountain.  They used to have a whole little tourist industry around his tomb, history majors still visit it sometimes.  If they're rich and can afford bodyguards that is.  No, the man in the library is...well, I'd have liked to introduce you to him in better circumstances.  I think he'd have really liked you."

"You mean?"  There was silence.  The female, Rea, must have made some sort of gesture because it was the man who offered a response.  "He's already better than my last girlfriend's father.  He hasn't tried to kill me yet."

"Wait, you said...Krell, did you just say I was your girlfriend?"

The second name.  Ohgar carved them into his mind and dropped from his perch.  

"I, Ohgar Briarlord, command the mages Rea and Krell to obey me.  In the name of Acrun, Zaethos, and Merciless Vex; do my bidding!"

He could feel the fire course through his nerves.  The skin flared and burned.  He tasted sulfur.  And the last thing Ohgar heard was the voice of the man, not even bothered by the mention of the dark trinity, as he spoke  "Touch of Ash".    

The Necromancer's Stone; Epilogue

"That's how your mommy and Daddy got to be where they are today."
"But what happened to the Assassin?  They never beat the Assassin; did they kill her or did they let her live?"
"In a way, both.  Watching that bit of magic, and seeing a totally new form of life definitely scared her a bit; and it set her off guard.  Your daddy and the new being managed to hold her down and your mommy did a little magic on her."
"But she couldn't destroy anything; you said the Assassin was blocking it, right?"
"There is a lot of magic that doesn't destroy things.  Your mommy used some of it to decide whether or not to kill the Assassin, and the magic said to let her live."
"Like a discernment spell or something, so she could make a better decision?"
"No, your mommy doesn't need help making the right decisions; at least, not from magic.  She put a curse on her; the most dreadful sort imaginable."
"Did she make her incapable of eating, or drinking?  Oh, I'll bet she made it so that she'd fail at anything she tried, no matter how badly she tried."
The storyteller laughed.  "No, she could still eat and drink, and your mommy wanted her to succeed.  No, she did something much, much more dangerous."  She paused, watching the little blonde girl, staring eagerly as she waited with baited breath.  "Your mommy made her care."  She kept going, narrowly cutting off the child's objection.  "And for an immortal who has to kill other immortals, caring is the most painful thing she could have been made to do.  It meant she would feel guilt and distress for everyone she killed, but she still had to kill them.  And she'd get close to people, then have to live without them when they died.  It meant she couldn't be who she had been before.  So in a way, your mommy did kill her.  But your mommy and your daddy, they didn't just leave her there.  They kept her close, and they gave her something to care about.  Your daddy taught both her and your mommy how to be better people; who didn't just kill people.  And eventually, when your mommy and daddy had kids, they made her take care of the kids."  She set the book down on the nightstand and bent over the bed to kiss the little girl goodnight.  "And sometimes, they even made her tell them stories."
"I don't think that's such a bad curse Auntie Rea.  I think its a pretty good curse."
"I think its very, very bearable.  G'night Cyssie, don't let the boogieman get you."

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Thousands of years later...


Liss stumbled over a loose cobblestone.  The gothic quarter of Stormguarde was basically dominated by them, it added to the dark, grim aesthetic of the place.  The ghoul maid had just been trying to run one of her mistress' errands, a simple matter of picking up some necessities for after tonight's party.  The contents of the bag were her responsibilities, and it was none of her business what the mistress and her handsome husband had planned for the evening.  She had never anticipated running into this sort of difficulty.
"Stop running from us, we're only trying to send a message to the Countess."
"Yeah, its not like you're using that brain anyways, why'd you need all that head on your shoulders?"
"Stop, please, I'm just a servant.  I don't know why you think she'd care what happened to me.  Shouldn't you go after one of her nephews or nieces, someone she actually cares about?"
The crowd of cloaked figures, red eyes glowing from the shadows in which they lurked, began to snicker.  "Now that's the thing, isn't it?  She does care what happens to you.  The rest of the ghouls are nothing, but you, you're special.  And we were rather hoping you'd help us understand why."
One of them pulled a butcher's cleaver from behind his back and leaned in, the dim light of the gas streetlamps exposing his vampiric smile.  Liss began to cry for help and he brought the blade over his head to strike.  Then there was a flash of lightning and she saw another cloaked figure standing over her.  Unlike the others, his cloak was brown, and there were mud stains across the bottom.  His boots were worn and the scabbard at his side had seen better days.  But his sword gleamed with a brightness of its own, and was forged of a purple crystal that called to mind the nails of a Gravagan.  She saw the cleaver begin to come down, and then fly off behind the stranger, still held in her assailant's hand.  He began to cry out, but the sword seemed to glide through him as though he were air.  And then she was left, stunned, at the foot of the stranger; and the remaining vampires stood at a distance, watching their comrade's inanimate corpse turn to ash and mix with the dirt between the cracks of the stone street.
"Lovely weather we're having."  The stranger said, straight-faced and solemn.  His eyes burned, but his demeanor was calm.
"Kill them both! What are you waiting for?"  Shouted the lead vampire.  The rest drew pistols and began unloading on the stranger.  Rather than making an effort at dodging, he helped Liss back to her feet and wrapped her in his cloak.  She could feel the warmth of his breath, a welcome change from the cold of the vampire controlled district, and even from the chill of the Palace.  And she noted for the first time his age.  It was rare to find anyone in Stormguarde with any apparent signs of age; neither vampires nor elves grew facial hair, and few immortals appeared older than their early twenties.  And yet his beard was flecked with grey, and there was slight wrinkling around his eyes.
"Next time, I'll bring you your crown milady.  Tell me, death or life?"
"I just want them to leave me alone."
He turned around, facing the crowd.  She could see that the back of his shirt had been destroyed by the hail of blaster fire, but any marks that they would have left on his skin were fading rapidly.  He was immortal then, even vampires wouldn't stand much chance against him.  And sure enough, with a mere seven motions, his sword had extinguished all but the leader.  The final vampire's gun clattered to the ground. The stranger began to speak, and he froze, whether he was paralyzed by magic or fear Liss could not tell.
"In the name of the Empress, Dark Lady Thalia Immersfeld Von Gravaga, and by the authority invested in me as Supreme Commander of her armies, Lord Executioner of her enemies, Grandmaster of the Dark Hand, and Prince Consort; I order the death of the rebel vampire Cortez, for treason against his mistress."  The crack of a pistol echoed about the street and Cortez collapsed, slowly dissolving into ash.  "May Death's embrace bear you to sweet eternal peace."
The stranger reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.  "Don't worry milady, Kate is doing everything she can.  You'll understand it all soon my love."  Then he turned and vanished in the same step.  A woman stepped out of the shadows from behind the pile of ash that had once been a vampire.
"Wonder what all that was about.  And where's he off to now?  Some guide he is."  Then she ran off up the street.  Liss pulled the cloak tighter over her and retrieved the bag of things her mistress had requested from where they'd fallen.  As she started towards the Palace her only thought was that she hoped he'd come back for the cloak.

The Necromancer's Stone; Creator

"Give me my book, and I'll only kill you."
"Your negotiating skills need some work.  For starters, there are two of us and we kicked your but last time.  Second, we have the book, you have death threats."
Hal pulled his sword out and stepped off the bed.  "And death threats are a really half-hearted way of threatening people anyways.  Give us some credit and make a real threat."
Thalia slid on to the floor and assumed a defensive stance.  "All this time I thought I was the only one who thought that about death threats."
"Has it ever stopped you from using them?"
"I love the classics."
"If you two are going to keep flirting, I really will just kill you."
They both turned to the young, oddly conversational, Assassin.  They couldn't tell much about her; an estimation of her age(about fourteen), the color of her hair (dyed black), Thalia could even tell that she had a good bit of money behind her (Steelsil couldn't be conjured, and she was wearing it like it was cotton).  But anything beyond that was uncertain.  She had a face mask and goggles on, making it hard to tell what she was thinking.
"Right!  You better be ready to turn over something a little bit more pointed than a death threat if you want us to go and give you back the hit list that lead you to our parents."
"You assume I need to negotiate."
She flipped her blades into position and charged.  Hal intervened and deflected her blow, forcing her back and giving Thalia room to work her magic.  Thalia launched a series of icy spikes at her opponent.  Or rather, she would have, but the magic refused to operate for no apparent reason.
"Told you I'd thought ahead.  I blocked out every kind of magic that could cause damage; no illusions, no destruction, no conjuring anvils over people's heads.  Only healing, enhancements,"  They didn't need to see her face to see her grin.  "Basically, my skills."
"You're an assassin with a talent for healing?"  Hal's blow was shunted aside and he dodged the counter that followed.
"At least I can use magic.  Right now neither of you can do a thing against me."  She rolled over Hal's retaliatory slash and managed to land a cut across his arm before he could fully dodge it.  Before either of them could continue fighting, the wound resealed itself seamlessly.
"What kind of idiot only knows combat?"  She tugged at the air and the door flew open.  "Luninda, Jaron, she found us."
The two Ga-Vok warriors barely managed to get through the door at the same time, Luninda pulling her axe from her side and Jaron coming with his hands open.  The Assassin seemed to pause at the sight of the two, but then swept Hal's feet from under him and charged them both.  She ducked under Luninda's wide axe swing and dislocated the warrior's left leg with a well placed jab.  Then she stabbed at Jaron.  He took it straight to the chest, pulling the blades deep with his own hands.  Luninda screamed something unintelligible, and Hal pulled himself up and began to charge the two.  But Jaron just held the Assassin close and seemed to whisper something to her.  As he finished, the assassin now sweating visibly, he began to howl.  And Thalia remembered what her mother had said before her death.
The four classical elements, combined with blood, and prayer; It couldn't be destruction, or illusion, and chances were that she couldn't even summon anything.  Healing would never use an element, and enchantment didn't seem relevant in her situation.  That really only left one school, and she felt a strong compulsion to grind palm into her forehead at how obvious it was.  She'd tried every element, blood, even raw magic; her research should've shown her this conclusion.  The strength of each of the four, complimenting each other perfectly, the cunning and strength of blood, but even with all of that life held a spark that neither magic nor science had ever been able to grasp.  But it did force her to do something she'd never really been good at doing.
"God, let this work."  Thalia let the forces flow out and mingle in the manner that seemed to work best.  Necromancy was an art, it had to be felt.  And the way that it all wanted to flow was unlike anything she'd ever done before.  She felt the golem, no, this was far more than any golem, the being forming within reality.  It was a projection not simply of her desire for a warrior, but her dream of a champion.  And it was more than that, it was a person; a being all its own.  That was the divine part of it all; the part she could never give it on her own.  She drew Jaron's dying blood from the blade of the Assassin, letting it leap through the air in crimson ribbons.  As the last of it joined the form, the being crystallized into a purple humanoid.  It was seven foot and a bit, clothed in a leather kilt and armed with muscles like steel cable.  She released the spell and fell to her knees.  It was exhausting to perform any spell of that magnitude, although admittedly less exhausting than she would have expected.  Then a hand reached down and she heard a voice.
"Creator, do you require assistance?"

Short Story; Bedtime Story (Aside to the Necromancer's Stone)

"Then what happened?"

The little girl sat bolt upright, knocking the plush animal she'd been holding onto a moment earlier of the bed.  Her eyes were bright with anticipation, and a little bit of concern for the characters in the story.  

"Well, then they all had teacakes and tapioca, asked why it was such a big deal, and parted ways as friends."

"Mommy's stories never end like that; tell me the real ending!"

"And what if that was the truth?"

"Then its a bad story."

"How is it a bad story?  What if they really liked teacakes and tapioca?  Maybe they were magic teacakes?"

"You can't enchant tapioca, or tea; I don't think it could have been magic.  And nobody likes food so much that it would keep them from killing each other."

"Aren't you clever?  So what do you think happened then?"

The little girl thought for a moment.  "I think that the boy and the girl fought the bad girl and they beat her up, and then they used magic and made the bad go away so that she became a nice lady."  She pulled her toy back up off the floor and tucked it in next to her.  "I think that would be a good ending."  

Then the story teller stood up and kissed her on the head, then pulled the sheets up.  "I think that would be a pretty good ending too.  Good Night Cyssie, sleep tight."

"But you still haven't told me how it ended?  What really happened?"

"You really want to know?"

The little blonde girl nodded, holding her pink, stuffed unicorn close.  

"Alright, I guess I'll have to finish it then."