Life Forbidden [one-shot]

Agrabah Desert

A corridor of darkness opened up in the middle of the cold nighttime desert. Very few people would ever want to end up in a place such as this, but Dominik had his reasoning. He needed to be alone, somewhere so secluded that no one would see what he is up to. With him he carried a tied bag, its shape and size indicating that it carried a body, more likely than not human.

After the corridor dissipated, he walked forward a few feet, carefully placing the bag down. He made sure that the body bag was firmly in place before stepping a few more feet past it, making himself perpendicular to the body’s waist. He took in a deep breath before pulling a obelisk shaped crystal from within his cloak. It shimmered in the full moon’s light, the clear skin revealing a swirling liquid within it. He laid it on its side, matching the position the body held a few feet beside it.

He began to make his way to the other side of the body, his heart pounding with every step. He tried to keep his face unrevealing of the nervousness that racked him, despite there not being anybody around to question his motives. Yet his conscience seemed to judge the actions he was planning. The power he was practicing to wield was one unfit for mortal hands, an art forbidden by even the Holy Order he followed. This wasn’t going to be typical necromancy he’s practiced, bringing forth mindless undead and the more independant revenants. No, he intends to bring back an actual life. One with a beating heart, running blood, and breathing lungs. He plans to defy death, the very thing the Holy Order claimed to worship, and bring back an actual living being from Verfluen’s grasp.

Granted, this was not the first time he’s attempted such an act. Even though he primarily focused on the school of illusion, necromancy has always held his interest. That being mostly due to his heritage as a Jer, being of that line almost guaranteed at least a taste of the necromantic arts.

He aligned himself with the body and crystal, kneeling down and placing his hands flat on his knees. He took in several deep breaths, trying to calm his breathing. Once he felt himself ready, he straightened his neck, looking forward then clapped his hands together with palms flat. The sound of his clap echoed through the desert, and in response four stone pillars rose from the sand forming a disconnected square around the crystal and body. The columns were plain, standing at around 10 feet tall with imperfections running up and down them. The only unusual thing about the pillars were that each of their tops formed a raven’s head, their attention focused on the center of the square the pillars formed.

Phase one, done, he thought, and now…

He took his left hand, laying it on the sandy ground in front of him, small particles slipping between his fingers, while he turned his other hand forward, facing the body before him.

...phase two.

Beneath his grounded palm, five thin black lines emerged, reaching toward the objects before him. Three of which surrounded the body and formed a black pool around it while the remaining two spiraled around the crystal. Once the lines settled, a cold air blew around Dominick indicating the arrival of a ghostly figure, hovering above the body before the Jer. The figure was ghastly in appearance, its body covered by a ragged black cloak. On its back was six raven’s wings, and although the figure was afloat, they held still, all extended wide. In one of its hands was a large silver blade, seething with black energy, and in the other was a black void pulsating with eldritch power.

Dominik swallowed, Again...the aspect of Verfluen. This is a presence that will never fail to impact me.

The aspect held out the void covered hand, its power reaching for the body below in the form of slimy black tendrils. Once they penetrated the covering bag, the Jer’s mind rushed with one thought: Now!

He placed his right hand on top of his other, shouting out, “[Necromantic Arts: Heretical Reincarnation]!”

Upon speaking those words, Dominik felt his aura being torn from his body, being transmuted into mana around him and pulled toward the body he wished to fill with life. He gasped, instantly recoiling his arms back up from the ground, the aspect before him vanishing and the conjured black lines receding toward him. As the magic from the area faded and the pillars receded back into the ground, Dominik got on all fours and retched.

“Damn it…” he coughed out, blood merging itself with his bile, “every time…”

From behind him, he heard a cold voice speak, “Impressive.”

That voice!

Dominik looked back, hoping his mind was playing tricks, It can’t be!

“There are very few people I have ever met that were even close to the capability you displayed.”

It is him…

He turned himself around, facing the figure behind him. A tall fine clothed man with a sapphire mask covering his face stood before him. The mask was of ancient origin, Dominik knowing of it belonging to the ancient Danann people. A thin etched line placed where his mouth would be connecting two triple spirals indicating his cheeks. There were no eyeholes to be seen, but it was clear this man knew his environments.

“Th-The Future King!”

Dodahl!

Dodahl looked down at the Jer, who was now bowing at his feet, “My Lord, I apologize for using such magic! It was out of mere curiosity, I promise! never again will I...”

“Spare me your qualms, illusionist,” Dodahl said, “I already stated I was impressed, haven’t I?” He made his way toward the body bag, “Now get on your feet, I wish for you to reaffirm your knowledge of this technique to me.”

Dominik nodded feverishly, standing up before approaching Dodahl.

“My knowledge...right…”

He went over to the crystal, picking it back up, “This technique, it is a different form of necromancy. As you know, necromancy is a form of evocation. Like any other way to evoke, one must use be able to access their aura, and thus manifest it into the environment around them and transmute it into mana. Then one must transmute their mana into a force such as ice or fire. Necromancy is nothing more than that. Rather than transmuting mana into ice or fire, one transmutes it into necrosis, the antithesis to one’s own being. Once necrosis is used on a being that has no life, it can be used to animate that being to create an undead. Most undead created this way don’t quite have the strength to take on those who are living alone.

“This ritual however is closer to that of a revenant. Using a life force either retrieved from Verfluen or pulled into a soul catalyst like the one I hold. This technique is only slightly different, as it requires both a retrieval from Verfluen and a soul contained within a catalyst. The soul retrieved from the death god must be the one matching the body, and the soul catalyst is used as its true intent.”

Dodahl chuckled, “'It’s true intent’?”

Dominik looked up at him, “Oh yes, of course. Soul catalysts have always been used to contain a trapped soul, usually intent on utilizing its power to charge rituals or any other powerful magic, depending on the strength of the soul of course. This technique though, the power of a soul catalyst fits too well. I believe it was for this ritual that these catalysts were conceived for. Once one begins the second phase of this ritual, after they summon the Pillars of Lith in the first phase, the user must use necrosis to connect the body to be reincarnated and the soul catalyst. This creates the original antithesis, and in the final phase where the soul is retrieved from Verfluen, the spell then creates being from the retrieved soul and the physicality granted by the catalyst. The most damning thing, however, is how much physicality can be restored.

“This technique can reincarnate a being from the barest of flesh, something necromancy cannot boast. In fact, any other form of necromancy pales in comparison to this technique. I can reincarnate one from a limb, or a finger, or even a drop of blood with enough mana. This truly is the power of a god.”

Dodahl looked at Dominik before laughing again, “You truly are knowledgeable in this technique. In fact, not even the High Priests can boast such knowledge like you have.” He stopped, examining the Jer, “I’ll tell you what, I want you to keep practicing this technique. Once you’ve perfected it, come to me.” He turned away, mist emerging from him, “Until then, I will be watching you. Good luck.”

The mist completely covered Dodahl, dissipating along with him. After the Future King left, Dominik was left, awestruck at what he just heard.

I have better leave, the sun is beginning to rise.

So Dominik pocketed the catalyst he was holding and threw the body over his shoulder, leaving the now heating desert through a corridor of darkness.