Darkness. 

A bleak blackness greeted Autumn’s tired eyes, rippling out from her like endless waves on a polished ocean. The reflection below mirrored her struggle. Autumn and her double cast their eyes about, trying and failing to take in the entirety of the desolate nothingness. 

However, rather than feeling fear or trepidation at the sight, she found solace in the dark void.

“What is this place? Where am I?” Autumn mumbled to herself.

“Tis thy mind. Such an empty place, is it not?” 

Autumn spun. Beside her floated the banshee, clad still in her haunting visage of a murdered Fae. A head of long, wispy white hair swam in unseen waters about her like a halo of creeping dread and sorrow. Piercing eyes pinned Autumn in place while a sharp smile whispered upon her pale blue lips.

The young witch’s eyes widened even as a scowl tugged her lips downward. 

Seeing it, the banshee rolled her eyes. “Tis but a joke, lighten up, would thee?”

“How am I here? I don’t recall doing this.”

“Twas not thee whom didst beg after mine own aid? Didst thee not asketh after training from one such as I to buckler thy mind from the frolicking of intruders? Therefore, I didst bringeth thee hither, till yond lesson I didst impart.” The banshee asked archly as she idly smoothed down her tattered dress. 

“I don’t remember begging.” Autumn grumbled. 

Ignoring her, the banshee continued. “To beginneth, thee shall needeth to fortify thy mental conjuration. Bethink not of thy mind as this blankness, this daunting void of exsufflicate thoughts, but of something outworth of what cameth ‘efore. Perchance thy mind is a lodging of memory; a grand library or home? Or haply, thy mind is of twisting connections like a spiderling’s web? Close thy eyes anon and finally see.”

Autumn gave an aggravated huff as she was ignored. However, she still placed her trust in the banshee’s wisdom, seeing as she’d promised her aid already and was unlikely to betray her.

Closing her eyes, Autumn set to thinking about just how her mind worked and weaved. And when they next opened, everything had changed. 

No longer did a darkness encapsulate her mind, but a new dawn of never-ending hallways, each emblazoned with a myriad of fantastical looking doors to either side.

The banshee drifted slowly down a hallway. “Hmm, not what I would’ve picked, but howev’r.”

“Hey! Don’t diss my mind!” Autumn yelled as she hurried to catch up. 

Eventually, the pair came to a stop in front of a lone door. A slab of splintered wood barely hung onto its frame by a couple of battered screws. Glancing beyond it, Autumn took in the sight of a gargantuan library full of towering shelves that sailed endlessly into the sky. Each one was full to the brim with books upon books; some colorful to the extreme and full to bursting, others more chaotic or tribal in nature, with only a handful of scant pages within.

This was where Autumn’s knowledge of all languages dwelt.

The banshee peeked inside only once. 

“Hmm, tis bust'd up very well. Nev'r thee fear for it shalt heal in due time, one only might wait a few days march still. To confound thy foes and barricade thy mind, simply conjure a lock upon the door. Maketh thine door as sturdy as thy mind can vouchsafe.”

“That’s it?” Autumn asked, perturbed. She’d expected something a little more…mystical. 

“...thee wanteth a harder task?” 

The banshee cocked an undead eyebrow. 

“No! No! I’m good.” Autumn hastily backtracked. 

Glancing at the battered frame and the door barely held within, Autumn imagined a steel lock upon it and when she next blinked, it was there. 

Autumn stared at it skeptically. “Are you sure it’ll work? It seems a little flimsy to me.”

The banshee rolled her eyes. “If thee bethink it willst not, then it wonneth. Tis the mind we art talking about; a single string might beset an army if thee believed it to beest so. Willpower is thy bodkin and bucker hither. Reinforce thy lock, night after night till all doubt hast fled thee. Now, I believeth it tis thy time to awaken. Begone.”

Autumn’s eyes snapped open. 

For a second, she didn’t know where she was. Above her hung an unfamiliar tent ceiling and drifting in from outside were the soft sounds of conversation and the smells of a cooking breakfast. But as her stomach growled its impatience, the sordid memories of yesterday slowly trickled in.

Rapidly blinking the sleep from her eyes, Autumn tiredly shifted Eme’s head from her shoulder, mindful as to not wake her. Left behind by the catgirl was a patch of drool, wetting her shirt. 

Autumn huffed, amused and only slightly miffed.

Quietly, she dressed herself back up in her witchy attire, dark hat and all. The familiar weight of it and the billowing warmth of her now dry robes provided a soothing balm.

Stepping out of the tent, her eyes quickly adjusted to the gloomy light and sought out those who’d gathered around Edwyn’s rune-made fireplace. Faces both familiar and new glanced her way. Aside from the usual bickering pair of Liddie and Edwyn, as well as Nelva, who wore a gentle but fed-up expression while watching them, there were four other individuals.

A pair of Umbra Elves stood apart from the others on one side of the runic fireplace. Without the dark cloaks concealing their forms, Autumn got a good look at the webbing-strung wetsuits that hugged them like a second skin. Their appearance to her was reminiscent of Earth’s navy seals or some futuristic cyberpunk super-soldiers.

One of them caught her eye, leading Autumn to cock her head in thought as she stared at the smirking Elf and her white hair. 

“Lady Nizana?” Autumn asked tentatively.

The Elf’s smile widened, stretching the pale scars on her purple skin. “I’m glad you remember me as I wasn’t sure if you would, given how intoxicated you were last time we met. I’m afraid that while my deck of cards survived, we don’t have the booze to make it as fun as last time.”

Autumn blushed. 

“Great, another one. Is this one gonna do any work, or just freeload like the cat?” A foul-tempered voice called out. 

Glancing over sharply, Autumn took in the unfamiliar Lepus that was currently glaring at her. The male defender had seated himself on a crate, eating a few fried mushrooms. Surprisingly, he’d somehow retained his gear. Iron chainmail lay draped over a silk gambeson and at his side lay a pairing of a wooden shield and iron blade.

Before Autumn could respond, the other Lepus at his side lightly elbowed him in the side, causing him to let out a grunt. 

“Roland, be careful of your words please. There is no need to cause offense in good company.” Evrard said. 

Autumn blinked as she stared at another of her gaming buddies. With both Eme and Lady Nizana, they had most of that night’s party here. Only Arvius—may he rest in peace—and Mister Bastistin were missing. 

She just hoped that the other Lepus was in a better place than they were.

“Mister Evrard, it’s good to see you, despite the circumstances.” Autumn said, dipping her head politely. 

The spearman—spearbunny?—gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Oui. While the tavern was a tad comfier, I’m no less glad to see another spellcaster added to our ranks. Ah, pardonne-moi, I forgot to introduce myself properly. I am Monsieur Evrard Quint, copper-rank, and this foul-weathered friend of mine is Monsieur Roland Côté, also copper. I’ll apologize for him. Times have been tough, and while that is no excuse for his bad manners, I simply ask you to understand where he is coming from.”

Roland grunted as he ate. 

Autumn frowned as she eyed the pair. She considered Eme her friend and the polite disdain the spearman couched in his words rubbed her the wrong way.

However, before she could offer a scathing rebuttal in defense of her friend, Nizana butted into the conversation. 

“Well, if we are introducing ourselves all formal like. I am Lady Nizana Bladewarden, silver rank,” she grinned haughtily at the Lepus pair, who gave either a scowl and nod respectively, “and this is my compatriot Illiamtree Bloodscythe, also silver.” She gestured to her male companion, who inclined their head slightly in a nod. When she continued, it was with a bloodthirsty smile on her face. “And may your bloodhunts be ever glorious and the bite of your blades run deep.”

Everyone eyed the Umbra Elves silently. 

It was Autumn that broke the silence in the end. 

“It’s a pleasure. I’m Witch Autumn, just copper rank.” 

Suddenly, Liddie clapped her hands together loudly, drawing their attention as the sound echoed down the hall. Some looked more annoyed with her than others. 

“Alright, as much as I’d love to continue this adventurer cock-measuring contest—my dick is bigger by the way; gold rank, but they're totally looking to make me platinum rank any day now. I’ll get a gambit card and everything, so suck my big meaty—” 

“Get oan wi' it, wull ye! The sea has made yer brain all soft, I swear!” Edwyn bellowed. 

Liddie stuck her tongue out at them, but she continued. 

“Ehem, we’ve a lot of work to do, people, so get to it! I don’t want to be here forever, do you?!”

With only slight amounts of grumping and groaning, the other groups of two exited the tower to brave the miasma in search of either an exit or edible mushrooms, leaving behind the Dusk Wolves plus Eme to tackle the tower on their lonesome.

Nelva approached Autumn with a mess tin in hand. Inside sat a small, sad collection of overcooked meat and a handful of burnt mushrooms. Nelva offered Autumn an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, Liddie got to the stove first, but I salvaged what I could. I know humans need more than just meat in their diets, so I spared some of mine for you.”

Autumn took the food gratefully. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“I know.” Nelva smiled. “We left some meat for Eme by the stove. Usually, we’d just place it by her tent, but here’s hoping she’ll come out with you here. I know you’re not that close, but it’s more than the rest of us.” Her face hardened. “Don’t let what Monsieur Roland said get to you; us adventurers are meant to look after each other. We’ll pick up her slack until she gets back on her feet.”

Nelva’s eyes flickered to look over Autumn’s shoulder. When she looked behind her, all Autumn saw was a slight swaying of the tent flap. 

“Très bien, I’m planning going upstairs today to see if anything else is salvageable. We’ll likely have all the traps cracked by tonight. Get what you need done today for tomorrow we’ll see what the second floor has in store for us.”

“If it’s anything like the rest, expect undead with a healthy pinch of traps.” Liddie quipped as she approached. 

“Don’t ye dare be makin' any more cooking jokes! You’ll make a chef cry wit' what ye'v done tae that dragon.” Edwyn groused as they joined them. 

Nelva rolled her eyes at the pair. If she did that anymore, her eyes might just fall out. 

“So,” she interrupted their bickering, “what’s the plan for today?”

“Hobbycraft.” Liddie snarked. 

It was Autumn’s turn to roll her eyes. 

Nelva raised a questioning eyebrow alongside Edwyn, although she did have to blow her dangling ear away from her face for it to be seen. Edwyn’s just disappeared into their bushy head of hair. 

Autumn cleared her throat to explain. 

“I asked Liddie—yesterday? How long did I sleep? Nevermind—I asked her to collect up some lengths of dragon bones for me when she was out getting more meat as I want to both remake my fingers and build a prosthetic for Eme.”

“You also wanted some for a wand, your majesty.” Liddie bowed playfully. 

“Ye know how tae make wands?” Edwyn asked, impressed and for once ignoring the pirate’s antics.

Autumn blushed and awkwardly rubbed at her neck. “Nope. Not a clue. I was just gonna smash some stuff together and hope it doesn’t blow up.”

Everyone stared at Autumn blankly. 

“Welp, guid luck wi' that, lassie!” “It's been nice knowing you, Autumn.” “I’ll get those Dragon bones on the double. This’ll be so~ funny!”

“Hey! Wait guys, don’t run away! I could use some help!”

“““Not on your life!!!”””

---

 

Autumn looked curiously around the basement of the tower with Nelva trailing behind her, having unsuccessfully tried to escape the witch’s grasp. Edwyn was still upstairs, working to convert their runic heater into a rudimentary forge at Autumn’s request. Changing it into something that’ll allow them to melt down the black-iron for use later and for easier transport.

There were only three rooms in the basement; a prison, an armory, and a crypt.

The prison itself was empty save for a few dusty, manacled bones within a line of cells that were barred with black-iron. They were likely the ancient remains of some unfortunate adventurers that’d befallen a necromancer’s ire.

When Autumn poked at one, it crumbled to dust. Coughing, she retreated from the cells under the amused gaze of Nevla. 

“Say, what do you know of this place? Of necromancers?” Autumn asked as they made their way towards the looted armory. 

“Hmm. A bit, but not much. Just general stuff, really.” Nevla answered. “What do you want to know?”

Autumn shrugged. “I don’t know. Anything really.”

“Well, this place is probably older than the Echea Empire, for a start.”

“Really? Isn’t the empire really old? My notebook said it was the 582nd year or something.” 

Nelva gave Autumn an indulgent smile. 

“582nd year of the 5th era. Meaning it’s the 582nd year of Empress Zarissa Vassira’s reign. The 4th era was her mother’s, and she lived roughly 567 years. The rest going all the way back to the 1st were about the same length, more or less.”

Autumn stopped to think. “Wait so that’s roughly…2,910 years? That’s impressive for an empire, I think.”

Nelva nodded. 

“Indeed it is, good leaders have kept it in check. Even under their protection, so many of my people’s nations have risen and fallen at the same time. But we’re getting off track, You were asking after the necromancers?”

Autumn nodded as they ducked into the armory. The place looked rather sad, seeing as the adventurers had already looted it like a pack of locusts. What wasn’t already upstairs was piled up in a corner, ready to be transported away. 

Picking through the loot, Autumn found a lonely black-iron blade that roughly matched the dimensions of her old one.

Seeing her holding it, Nelva answered Autumn’s unasked question. 

“Yes, you can take it; we’ve got enough that we won’t miss it.”

“Thanks!” Autumn said as she slipped the blade into her vambrace. “So, this place is over 2,910 years old? Wow.”

“Likely more than that. Back before the immigration of the Inferni people, a cabal of necromancers ruled the north while in the south, beyond the Great Thirst and the Steelspine, slaver nations of the Umbra ran rampant. Of course, they still do, but that’s another sad tale. Where was I? Oh, right. Back in those days, they preyed upon both of our peoples for their slaves and corpse puppets. It is said that the divine Angelus dared to make war upon the necromancers and drove the human nations into numerous fruitless crusades against their shores, but I highly doubt that as the winged angels tend to keep to their lofty peak.”

Autumn drank in every word, watching enraptured as Nelva told the tale and picked through the armor that’d been left behind. She held up an old black-iron chain-shirt to Autumn’s torso, before nodding to herself. 

“Here, wear this for now. We’ll find you a better one back in Duskfields.”

“Huh?” Autumn blinked dumbly, surprised by the sudden change in the topic. “But I’ve got a magic shield. Why would I need this?”

Nelva gave Autumn a stern look. 

“It’s for when you run out of magic and forget to dodge. Will it interfere with your magic at all?”

“Um, I don’t think so?” Autumn answered, unsure herself. 

“Then put the gods-damned shirt on, Autumn.”

“Alright, alright.” Autumn grumbled as she took off her robes to put the chain-shirt on. She didn’t like the extra weight on her, but when she wrapped her belt back around her, it wasn’t so bad. Plus, she could admit it was a good idea. 

Seeing Autumn dressed in the armor, Nelva happily continued her tale. 

“Now, after the Inferni came, things were different. They allied themselves with the Lepus and the other oppressed peoples of this continent and drove the necromancers into the sea, chasing them all the way into the frozen lands to the north. Whether they still live, I don’t know. This place was likely their last bastion; a holdout of the war.”

“How likely is it that there's a necromancer still living, or unliving, here? One from the war? A lich or something?”

Autumn gulped as she cast her eye around the crypt they’d ventured into. Signs of the earlier fighting were abundant here. Bloodstains marred the floor amongst the cracked stone and coffins. 

Nelva looked around, too. 

“Here? Not likely. What would the odds of that be? If there was one, I doubt they’d just let us camp out in their foyer. No, there are no necromancers here. No way.”

Autumn didn’t know which of them she was trying to convince more.