Book of The Dead
Chapter B5: Dangerous Gamble

“You fucking moron! You actually broke a rift for nothing!”

Dove rolled around on the ground, cackling out loud as he held his ribs and kicked his feet. Tyron scowled at him.

“How was I supposed to know they would move at the last second?”

Scouting the Golden Army wasn’t exactly easy. Their members were all level 79 veterans with inhuman abilities. Sentries that could see a fish swimming in water from hundreds of metres away weren’t easy to survey. If he hadn’t had access to his ghosts, it wouldn’t have been possible at all. Even the spirits had to be careful, since they could be seen by anyone able to detect the faint magick that held them together.

“A break. A fucking break! All that effort. The look on your face!”

Dove howled with laughter pointing his bony finger at Tyron and chattering his jaw. The irritating skeleton had been like this for hours, ever since they had retreated back through the rift to Granin. Still puzzling over how this could have happened, the Necromancer had been too distracted to silence his old teacher at first, and now he had something to discuss with Dove, but his patience was fast running out.

“Shut your skull already, Dove. If you act like this every time I make a mistake, we’ll be here forever.”

“You say that, but you don’t actually make that many mistakes, do you?” another voice spoke from the dark corner of his sitting room.

At the sound of the first syllable, Dove stopped laughing and curled himself into a defensive ball, empty sockets glaring at the newcomer. Tyron didn’t bother turning around.

“Glad you could come on such short notice, Yor,” he greeted her, stretching his feet out toward the fire.

Crackling low in the hearth, the coals radiated a soft, orange glow along with a warm heat, but he was curious to note that it didn’t scald him as once it might. His otherworldly endurance didn’t only extend to resisting the cold; he could probably put his feet directly into the flames and not get burned. His sensitivity to temperatures fading like this made him feel as if he were part-undead already. Even pain was starting to become something of a memory. At times, he wondered why he bothered to cling to his humanity in the first place.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Dove, wonderful to see you again,” the vampire purred as she slinked into the light.

As always, she was dressed in a form-fitting dress, red this time, every curve of her quite literally sculpted form on display. She smirked at Tyron, who hadn’t turned his head, then sat down with inhuman grace.

“I don’t remember what it feels like, the warmth of a fire, I mean,” she said, gesturing towards his feet.

He was a little unnerved she had managed to read his thoughts so closely, yet he didn’t move.

“Of all the things you miss about being human, I can’t imagine warming your feet by the fire is top of the list,” he noted.

“Oh, it isn’t. There are other things I dearly miss. Yet, as I have said before, I have gained much more than I have lost. Eternal life, Tyron, is worth a few sacrifices. Eventually you will come to the same realisation, hopefully not too late.”

He made a non-committal sound, but couldn’t dismiss the thought as easily as he had before. If necessary for his revenge, then he would throw away his human form without hesitation, but he wasn’t convinced he had to. So long as he lived to achieve it, he couldn’t care less what race he was. After a few moments of silence, Dove finally decided what it was he wanted to say.

“You sexy BITCH!” he yelled, jumping to his feet and glaring accusingly at the vampire. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be sucking on your Mistress’ toes right now?”

Yor curled an elegant eyebrow.

“Why Dove, that is a very specific vision you have. Your imagination is wasted on you.”

Frustrated, the skeleton turned back to Tyron.

“Why is she here?” he demanded.

“Because I invited her.”

“No! Not… not here… why is she here?!”

“You think emphasis is making this any clearer?” Tyron sighed. “I assume you mean still in this realm. I don’t know, but I presume for much the same reason as before, to keep an eye on me in order to fulfil the deal my parents made with her Mistress. Either that, or to siphon away more blood slaves. You can ask her if you want.”

“I will not exchange words with that gorgeous creature,” he said, turning his head in a huff. “She is naught but scum and filth in my eyes.”

“Why Dove, you wound me,” Yor chuckled deep in her throat. “Even now, I wonder what it would taste like to eat your soul. The very thought sends a shiver down my spine. Why don’t you let me have a taste?”

Dove stared at her for a minute.

“Couldn’t hurt,” he shrugged and began to walk toward the vampire.

“Sit down, Dove,” Tyron growled, his scowl returning to his face.

“Don’t be jealous! I just have this effect on women, it can’t be helped.”

“By all the Gods in this realm, I wish I could let you die,” Tyron said, rubbing at his temples. “Sit down before I have to hurt you.”

“No need to be so rude,” Dove sniffed, moving to his seat before perching awkwardly on the front of it. “Sitting as a skeleton is kind of weird, have I ever mentioned that? I’m arse-less. What am I supposed to sit on?”

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“I don’t care. Let’s discuss what I brought you here to discuss before I kill someone,” Tyron said.

“It’s me, isn’t it. I’m the ‘someone’.”

“Yes, Dove. It’s you.”

“Well, go on then,” he said. “I have no idea what you need me and her to talk about, but I’m interested to hear it.”

“I bet you are, since we need to discuss the Realm of the Dead.”

Dove froze in the act of slouching and sat up razor straight once again.

“Oh. The Realm of the Dead, you say?”

Yor smiled.

“How did you find your time projecting your consciousness into that realm, Dove? I would be fascinated to hear the tale.”

“I bet you would,” Dove growled, uncharacteristically serious. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew exactly what was going to happen. What I was going to find there.”

“Of course,” she said, folding her perfectly pale hands in her lap. Her eyes twinkled wickedly. “We vampires are the most perfect undead in creation, there is little about death we don’t know. I’m a little shocked you didn’t seek out my advice before you vanished into the mountains. Rather a foolish move, don’t you think?”

Dove trembled with rage in his seat.

“As if I was ever going to ask you,” he ground out. “I hate you.”

“Well, I am hardly going to offer information I wasn’t asked for,” Yor said, once again arching her brow. “Though I find I’m not too saddened by your current condition.”

Dove sprang up from his seat, but Tyron cut him off before he derailed their talks even further.

“Both of you, shut up,” he said, imposing his will. He glared at Dove, who reluctantly sat back down, then at Yor, who only curved her lips in a slight smile.

“I didn’t ask you here because I wanted to listen to you bicker. The Empire has somehow gotten wise and withdrawn their sacrificial offering, which is uncharacteristic of them.”

Such a wonderful opportunity. They’d send a force just small enough that the rebels could hope to defeat it, reaping a bountiful harvest in experience and raw Necromantic materials. Capturing so many souls, so many high grade skeletons, would have fuelled Tyron’s horde exponentially. He could have offered their spirits to the Abyss for knowledge and favours, raised powerful undead, experimented on new techniques and methods that only such high-grade bones would be able to endure. The opportunity cost was so vast it practically left him speechless.

What made it worse was that, from what he understood of the Imperial Court, it was such an unusual move. He had torn through the mind of the Duke of Kenmor himself and learned everything he could of the Nobility in the Imperial heartland. A tangled web of bureaucracy, backstabbing and bloodlines, the court was a complete mess. Ruled over by an uncaring Emperor and self-serving Nobles, it was inefficient and incompetent at its best.

So how did they manage to realise their mistake and change policy so quickly? It was extremely confusing, to say the least. However, that was a question for another time. What mattered was that their strategy had smartened, which didn’t bode well for him. If they came back with a larger force anytime soon, he would be crushed, and they would. Once again, Tyron found himself on the clock. He needed to grow stronger, and he needed more materials to improve his horde.

“Since the Empire has decided to withdraw their offer of empowering me, I need to turn my attention to more risky opportunities,” Tyron announced. “So, I’ll be heading to the Realm of the Dead.”

“You what?” Dove sputtered. “That’s insane!”

“It’s not like I have many options right now,” Tyron stated coldly. “I won’t sit on my hands and wait to die.”

“Do you have any idea what will happen to you if you go there?” Dove demanded. “You-y-y… gah!”

Unable to force the words out through the binding placed on him, the skeleton gave up and collapsed back into his seat. Tyron and Yor watched in silence as he gathered himself again. Dove simply stared deep into the flames for a time, the light penetrating his empty sockets to illuminate the inside of his skull.

“It’s too soon,” he said slowly, as if testing each word to see if he would be permitted to speak. “I wanted… I wanted… help… but… but it’s… too soon.”

Tyron nodded. What Dove had said was in line with his own thoughts. The undead summoner wanted him to help break the hold that had been placed on him, but didn’t think Tyron was currently strong enough to pull it off.

The skeleton turned toward Yor.

“You should be talking him out of this,” he told her angrily. “You know…. You know…. Fucking SHIT!”

He exploded, an outburst fueled by the frustration he felt.

“I fucking hate this,” Dove raged. “Hate it! Let me fucking talk!”

He thrashed in his seat, kicking and flailing for a while until he finally ran out of steam and went limp. Only then did Yor bother replying.

“We have already struck a deal regarding the Realm of the Dead. He isn’t going in there as unknowing as you think he might be,” she told him.

“As unknowing as I was,” Dove grunted.

“And he is not travelling there as a consciousness, but in the flesh. That can make all the difference.”

“In the flesh?” Dove said, surprised. “Is that… safe?”

He directed the question to Yor, who chuckled.

“Honestly? No. In fact, I would normally say it is impossible, but our friend here has proven to be more resilient than most.”

Once again, Dove fell back in his seat, seemingly exhausted.

“You know,” he began. “I miss the Astral Sea. That whole realm was great. Spirit creatures swimming in a realm of pure energy and light. The things I saw there were so beautiful I would return to my body and find tears in my eyes. There were dangers, of course, but it was so worth it. I loved that place when I was alive. I truly loved it.”

Tyron felt his brows creep up almost against his will. Listening to Dove talk with actual sincerity… how long had it been? When he actually opened up and spoke of his real thoughts and experiences, it was almost like he had his teacher back, the sarcastic, well-meaning, allergic to authority and foul-mouthed Summoner he had known all too briefly as a living person.

“A-are you alright, Dove?” Tyron hesitated to ask.

The skeleton roused himself a little, still staring deep into the coals.

“I only say that because… when compared to the Realm of the Dead… I… I…” he trailed away, frustrated at being unable to make his point. “Let’s just say I prefer the Astral Sea. It’s like heaven.”

Tyron nodded.

“And the Realm of the Dead is like hell,” he finished the thought.

That pronouncement hung in the air for a time as each of the three contemplated the fire. Finally, Tyron pushed himself up to his feet and stretched.

“Well, we may as well get to work.”

“To work?” Yor asked, tilting her head.

Tyron smiled at her, his eyes still ice-cold.

“You think I invited you here for a nice fireside chat? We’ve got magick to work on. Both of you are going to help.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dove exclaimed. “Not me, count me out. Working with you on magick is a pain in my nonexistent ass.”

“You think you have a choice?” Tyron’s smile grew increasingly frosty. “You aren’t leaving until I finish these rituals, and if you try and run, well, let’s just say you won’t try twice.”

Dove slumped over in despair.

“Fuck you, Tyron. Fuck you right in the face.”