Von
City of Cristal Fleche

The Lord Mayor sat in his chair, his city council spread out to either side. There wasn't any of the hope or relief Von had expected when he and General Ajani had made their plans. But none of them had expected a man mad with grief to nearly kill Keir. Instead of the triumphant arrival of a powerful mage who could raise a small army with the wave of a hand, they had a young woman who still may die.

“We've read your reports, Captain Dobeliet. Now I want to hear it in your own words,” Lord Mayor Julius said, “what can we expect?”

“Sir, while The Eldritch Council was not willing to spend the resources necessary to launch a relief campaign initially. As long as Mage Keira survives, I believe that they will do whatever is necessary, to see her safe return,” the Captain said.

Lady Auch, who was in charge of food stores and distribution leaned forward in her chair. “Why is that?”

“Well my Lady, I saw the army of the undead that had been raised. There weren't merely ghosts, skeletons and animated corpses, but flesh golems, banshees, flying monsters I've never heard of, giant corpses, faceless things that could take the appearance of living people, and several more. It was an army and they obeyed the officers like properly trained soldiers. The Council wasn't keen on letting Mage Keira come here. From what I understand they want to keep her under their control so she doesn't start a new empire. To do that they need to come get her.”

“She's a girl of what, eighteen years? How can you be sure she's truly the Necromancer?”

Von stepped forward. “With all due respect, Lady Auch, I was the one who resurrected Mage Keira. She may look young, but that was due to the desperate situation and lack of appropriate bodies. The ritual required a whole body, with the organs intact, that had been dead for no longer than a day. The unfortunate young lady had died of malnutrition and the flu. With a demon army about to attack, it was impossible to wait for an older, male, body.”

The response didn't seem to settle their doubts. Louis Bardot, spokesman of the Engineers Union, noisily cleared his throat. “We had expected to see the Necromancer and her army. Getting a girl on her deathbed, has not helped moral.”

Rubbing the smooth scar tissue of his stump, a bad habit he'd picked up in the last month, Von forced himself to keep his neutral expression. “We did not expect an assassin to shoot her in the back as she was boarding the airship. As soon as she recovers, I can promise that she'll raise a powerful army for you.”

“She's a young lady, little more than a child. You can assure us as much as you like, what we need are results.”

“I have to agree,” Lady Auch said. “Captain Dobeliet, you have disappointed us. We put a great deal of resources and hope in your expedition and all you seem to have done is anger the Eldritch Council and given us three more mouths to feed.”

The Lord Mayor tapped his silver mace. “I don't think Captain Dobeliet has disappointed us just yet. We have a promise from the Council that they'll try to relieve us this summer. The supposed Necromancer is not dead, and will be able to prove herself to us when she is sufficiently healed. For now we have one simple need, keeping the moral of the city up. Tomorrow morning we'll announce to the city the planned summer campaign. Letting them know that we are once again in touch with the rest of the continent, and they are coming to our aid, should help reduce the suicides.”

“Of course, Lord Mayor,” Lady Auch said at once. “I'll see that the soup kitchens spread the message when they open at dawn.”

“And I'll prepare a citywide prayer of thanks,” Elder Sister Otillie said.

Louis Bardot nodded, “I'll let my men know about that. It will help a little.”

Slowly the rest of the council members nodded in agreement.

Elder Sister Otillie

The Necromancer didn't look like a monster come back to life. Looking down at the young woman who was being tended to by healers, Elder Sister Otillie couldn't help thinking how weak and fragile she seemed. She didn't have the starved look of most people in the city, but the pale, almost bloodless complexion and sweat soaked skin was far from healthy. If this girl was to be the saviour of the city, she would need weeks, maybe months to heal.

Maybe her colleagues were right, and this girl wasn't the person they'd been hoping for.

A faint whisper came from her lips, “Estelle.”

The Lleial bodyguard, who was scarcely older than the Necromancer, reached out to gently hold the tiny hand. “It's alright, I'm here.”

“She thinks you're her daughter?” Sister Otillie asked. Since learning the Necromancer was reborn she'd read every book she could on the man. With the hundreds of works about him, she was only a quarter of the way through the stacks. He had had an eventful life and even after his death, his actions had shaped much of the world.

“Sometimes,” the young warrior said.

Otillie wondered what she could say to that. Any attempt to talk to her beyond sharing information, had proven futile. From what she'd heard the warrior had only left the Necromancers side to visit the privy and clean herself. She even slept in a chair by the bed, with a pistol clutched in her hand.

The Necromancer opened her eyes. They were glassy, but there seemed to be some comprehension behind them. “Where am I?” she asked.

Before anyone else could reply, the Lleial spoke. “You're in Cristele Fleche, Regua.”

“The silver mine? No. That was then. Under siege. Need to fight. Need an army.”

“You need to rest, Regua. There is no fighting now.”

Wincing at the weakness and confusion in the girl who was supposed to be the most powerful mage in the world, Otillie wondered if even The Mother would be able to fully heal her. And then she gasped in shock.

Shadows appeared in the air. Slowly they coalesced into a dozen phantom horsemen. They were pale things, barely more than mist, in the sunlight. But they were perfectly formed, with lances at the ready. Blank faced, they awaited their orders.

“Protect... the... city,” the Necromancer whispered.

Saluting, the ghosts flew towards the window only to fade out of existence as they touched the glass and bricks.

Everyone stared at the young woman who had so recently been on the verge of death, and could still die if she was unlucky. She had passed out again, whatever energy she'd had was gone. Despite all of that, somehow she'd cast a complicated spell that no one had been able to do in centuries, while almost unconscious.

Otillie looked up, wondering if The Mother and The Father had sent an answer to her prayers. Or would the girl die, like all her other hopes.

Keir

His entire body ached.

The bandages around his chest were too tight. If he had the strength he might have tried loosening them, but he couldn't even lift the blanket that covered him. His stomach growled, his throat was dry and he needed to piss.

“Help,” he whispered.

“Regua, how can I help?” Floria asked.

“Water.”

The sound of pouring water made him wince. Groaning, he did what he could to help as his body guard lifted him a little and placed some pillows behind his back and head. Glass touched his lips and the warm water was delicious. Slowly, each gulp causing pain to blossom in his chest, he drained the cup.

“Need... to piss,” he said.

The blanket was pushed off his legs and waist. From under the bed Floria took out a bedpan. “This will hurt a little, I need to lift you up,” she told him.

“Just do it.”

Biting his tongue, he tried not to cry out as he put weight on his wound. His nightgown was lifted up, and the cold metal was placed under him. Relieving himself, he was reminded how much easier it was to piss into a bottle while injured.

Closing his eyes, he tried not to think about the young woman, or how she had to wipe him clean. It was one more thing that proved he wasn't himself anymore. Just like his weak body, and the monthly tribulation as Sister Kaja called it.

While Floria went to dump the pan and wash her hands, Keir leaned back, exhausted after that little bit of effort. He was being a fool. He wasn't in his old body anymore. He wasn't a man.

He'd been able to push most of his concerns about his new life aside for weeks. Fighting the demons, planning how to survive, trying to find a way to keep his freedom, it was all too easy to focus on that. But now... he wasn't going to be doing anything for weeks. He had to face reality. So what was he now?

A man in a woman's body.

What did that even mean?

“Here, Regua. Drink this, it will help you heal.” Floria put a metal cup to his mouth.

Sipping in the hot, sweet liquid, Keir felt his eyes grow heavy. Sleep quickly took him away from his worries.