The Great Savior

“Erlana, no.”

“But Fumihito!”

“No is no.”

“You haven’t even thought it over yet, Fumihito…”

“Really? You’re right, let me think it over.”

Erlana’s eyes were full of hope as she lowered the loaf of bread from her lips and stared back at Fumihito. She had spent the better part of an hour trying to convince him that helping the village would be beneficial. A way to get used to his abilities and use his magic to help this place get better if he could theoretically communicate with the spirits. They had left Viggo’s and were on their way to meet Scrimgeour, but the two were still arguing about it.

Well, it wasn’t much of an argument. It was just him denying her over and over again.

“Really?”

He gave her a flat stare.

“No. Erlana, that’s a horrible plan. The first time I tried using magic, I nearly ended up getting torn apart by random spirits in the first place,” he paused for a moment as they stopped by the entrance of the town and motioned toward the entirety of it all. “And my first accidental form of it ended up with Scrimgeour! Can you imagine how much worse it could get if I even tried to involve myself here?”

Erlana seemed to sour at the mention of it all before she crossed her arms and looked back at him. It genuinely astounded him that she would have gone this far for this town. Sure, he understood that there was some meaning and a place in her heart for this town, but couldn’t she see that he wasn’t the answer? He was the exact opposite of an answer. He was the failure, the catastrophe, and if he got involved, it would end exactly like that.

“But you COULD make it better. This is different. These aren’t malignant spirits by nature. If you could just find a way to calm them down…,” but he cut Erlana off once again with one simple example.

Last night.

“I couldn’t even stay sane last night before every bit of their screeching got to me. Erlana, those THINGS just tore me down. I doubt I’d be able to last so long before I either lose my mind or before I do something to make it worse. Did you see them?”

That was enough to shut her up, as much as he hated to do it judging by the pained expression on her face. It wasn’t like he hated her, far from it, but how could she ask him to go through all of that again? This entire scenario was outside his reach and it wasn’t like anybody had died. From what little they knew, it just seemed to be a constant bout of mental torture.

Nobody was dying.

But…

How long would that last? Even he couldn’t help but pause for a moment to think about it. How long would it honestly be before someone thought death was an easier alternative than dealing with random spirits rushing out of nowhere just to torture you for another night? He couldn’t imagine a single night and yet these people had been dealing with this problem for months.

“...I just thought it would help you and them. I won’t force you into this, Fumihito, but I just thought you’d be able to help them. They have nobody right now. I’m still dedicated to getting you home, I promise, but this place doesn’t have anybody else,” Erlana replied with a small apologetic nod.

“But let’s go talk to Scrimgeour first, okay? We don’t know what he could’ve dealt with while he was outside. You don’t think they went after him, do you?”

Right, Scrimgeour had been outside the town during this entire little trip of theirs. Even though he had forgotten the undead for a bit, he wasn’t sure if the skeleton had gotten attacked or not. The people in the town had clearly told them that these things seemed to hone in on them, but what was the guarantee that they wouldn’t rise back up and attack someone else if they couldn’t get to Tartarus?

Nothing.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure he’s still lingering on the outskirts. I can’t exactly feel a presence between us. It’s like a tether or a leash. The farther he goes, the more unknown it can get. I could be standing still while he travels an entire mile and it’d feel like he’s there and not at the same time,” and it was very much like how he wasn’t even aware Scrimgeour was tethered to him when he first resurrected the man.

He rolled his shoulders and pressed a hand to his nostrils to waft away any lingering rot. Even now, the rotten smell had grown stronger compared to yesterday. It was somewhat tolerable, but the smell now was comparable to an entire field of rot. Was it getting stronger or was he just thinking too much about it?

Erlana and he walked away from the town and spent the next fifteen minutes reaching the spot where they had originally left Scrimgeour. He couldn’t spot anything, but he could feel the connection once again. They were here, but he couldn’t see him.

“Scrimgeour, we’re back! You can get out from wherever you are….”

He decided calling out to him might work, but he didn’t expect the trees to rustle above. His eyes were drawn to the trees bundled together above, their branches intertwined, and the leaves ruffling every few seconds. The young man simply raised his brow at the sight while Erlana blankly stared at the same spot.

It was only a few more moments before the same robed figure of Scrimgeour suddenly plopped down onto the ground with a wave of their arms. The undead’s hood was pulled down and he looked like he had a beard now. A beard made of leaves and sap from what he could see attached to his mandible.

The undead patted his ribcage and made a smile at the group.

“Oh, you guys are still alive! Thank the gods, I was worried I’d have to hitchhike with another group. So, how was Tartarus, eh?”

Erlana shared the same disappointed look he did as the two of them bore their eyes into the undead’s face. It might be impossible, but maybe if he stared hard enough, Scrimgeour would just burst into flames. Sure, he was dead, but he would have at least liked to try. It must have been obvious because the undead was already wilting beneath their state.

“H-H-Hey now, let’s not get too angry here, right? I m-mean, c’mon! After last night and nearly being hounded myself, I had to go and think of the worst. It’s not every day you see so many spirits going out of their way to cry out in pain.”

His brows were raised at the mention of that statement. Cry out in pain? Weren’t they there to cause pain and suffering? It seemed like it with how violent they acted when it concerned the barrier planted around the entirety of the town.

Erlana must have had different thoughts because she had a question of her own for the undead.

“Hounded? Wait, did they come after you or hurt you?”

Scrimgeour, however, simply shook his hand from side to side in a nonchalant manner. The mass of bones looked rather amused at the situation. How he so wanted to slug him in the face for not having a migraine and collapsing compared to his situation last night.

“Well, sort of. To be more exact, about a few dozen of the fellas came at me and tried gnawing off my limbs. I think they must have thought I was an invader or a foreign spirit. They certainly weren’t very welcoming to it,” he took a seat on the ground and plopped a hand onto their sticky beard of leaves.

“But, after a bit of gnawing? They gave up. Left me right after and went right back to howling out their pain. I almost feel bad for the poor bastards. Left to cry out in agony night after night to people who probably can’t even hear ‘em.”

People who couldn’t hear them? Now that sounded like a load of lies if that was anything to judge it by. Fumihito stepped forward and casually waved a hand at the entire town.

“In case you didn’t notice, everybody can hear them, Scrimgeour. It’s a miracle nobody’s gone insane at this point if they have to deal with this every night. I got an entire load’s worth of screaming all on me and woke up with a migraine.”

But once again, the undead simply shook his head and raised his palms toward his ears. If he had any ears at all since he didn't have a lick of flesh on his body.

“No, you’re not getting it. They’re crying out. I can’t exactly understand them. Undead don’t exactly understand each other all the time. Usually, it depends on the state of one’s soul, you know? In my case, I’m whole. In their case, it’s more like they’re fragmented, but they’re all still there. They’re just crying out still, hoping someone can hear them,” and if Scrimgeour had any eyes, they certainly would have looked sad.

“Of course, not everything goes according to plan. I bet when they first showed up, it wasn’t nearly as bad, but it was enough to scare people off. From there, things must have escalated for the poor guys.”

Fumihito pressed a hand to his chin and raised his brow at the entire situation. Scrimgeour was seemingly attacked on the chance that he was a foreign presence, which he was, but it seemed that being all bone must have done wonders for him if he didn’t look the least bit damaged. Not to mention that he had to consider the next statement. That this entire curse wasn’t something malignant.

What was it Viggo had said? Cursed spirits had something that rooted them there. So, these were spirits that chose to stay and eventually grew worse? Shouldn’t that have been enough or was he not thinking it all the way through?

“Well, at least you’re okay,” Erlana offered the skeleton a small shrug with a frown plastered across her lips. The news about the spirits must have only drowned her hopes a bit at what Scrimgeour had told.

Speaking of, the skeleton in question simply crossed his arms.

“They gnawed on me for thirty minutes. I wouldn’t say it was okay. I don’t exactly feel much pain, but it’s not a blessing when they’re ripping parts of me off too. You know, I had to go digging around that field over there too…”

Erlana simply whipped her head around and looked at him before she motioned back to the skeleton with a knowing look. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what exactly she wanted him to do. He didn’t want to give in so easily, but it wasn’t like asking the only undead around who could talk was a bad idea.

He crossed his arms over one another and snapped his fingers in front of Scrimgeour’s face, mainly to get his attention.

“Look, Scrimgeour, Erlana… Erlana thinks I can dispel the curse of these spirits because I’m a necromancer. I just need you to tell her that…”

“Oh, that? Yeah, you could.”

Fumihtio blankly stared at the undead with such a deadpan look that he was sure he must have looked like a fitting image for a statue then. This undead, this bastard, had just confirmed his worst fears. Erlana seemed a little excited after that and hopped over, getting just a little bit closer to the two and smiling brightly.

“See? Even he said it, so it must be possible. You could try communicating with them today and reach out.”

Was she really telling him to go back and TRY to communicate with them? He practically whipped right around on the spot to jab a finger in her direction.

“Erlana, if you didn’t recall, I DON’T know how to use magic. I barely know a thing about these powers aside from the fact that the dead are involved. Furthermore, my first instance dragged HIM back from the dead and nearly put the two of us into jail. Again! Is there a brain in your skull or are you naturally this much of a ditz?”

The poor woman had crocodile tears after saying so much, even shivering beneath him and growing smaller and smaller with each passing second. Sweat rolled down his brow and a loud cackle escaped Scrimgeour from right behind him. If there was ever a time he wanted to shrivel up and die, now was certainly the time to give it all up.

It took more willpower than he would have liked to admit before he offered a silent apology and turned back to Scrimgeour as Erlana wiped away her tears.

“But you’re saying I can end it? Like that?”

Scrimgeour, however, simply shook their head from side to side and rested a hand against their leafy beard once again.

“Not exactly. In truth, your very being as a necromancer invites the dead to you. I don’t know much about them. Only knew about two or three when I was alive, but they always had a way to speak to the dead. We used that for information, help, or some scare tactics at the time,” the undead raised his hand and jabbed it toward the ground at their feet.

“You brought me back with intent alone. Accidental? Sure. In reality, that’s not easy for someone who doesn’t even know how they got magic in the first place. Still, if you could talk to the spirits, you might be able to appease them. You might even be able to get them to move on and stop wailing away. Assuming you can master it.”

So, this was all based on assumption. Fumihito studied to become a doctor. There was medicine, human anatomy, how to handle patients, procedures, rigorous studies, and more. This, however, was not medicine. This was talking to the dead, of which were currently insane creatures who put him down on the ground with a migraine, and trying to communicate with them in the hopes that they wouldn’t cause trouble.

Did nobody but him see how insane that sounded?

Erlana had finally recovered before stepping into the conversation once more.

“Well, the only problem stems from inexperience, right? Isn’t it possible Fumihito could practice instead of throwing him into the fire?”

He blankly stared at the woman and motioned to himself yet again. No matter the context, he wasn’t exactly keen on this plan regardless. Even practicing with Scrimgeour led to a lot of standing around and doing nothing. It hardly helped either of them in the long run and it wasn’t going to do much if trying to communicate would lead to nothing.

“Well, he’d need to find a spirit to talk to. I can’t sense those, only he can. I’m not even sure we could find one either since a lot of those spirits might have come from the village. We’d have to either find one directly and separate it, which could be bad, or we find something else which wouldn’t be easy.”

Scrimgeour looked at the two before he paused and removed the mess of leaves attached to his face with a wiggle of his bony fingers. The undead stared at Erlana with a simple glance and motioned toward him.

“Depends on two things though. You could leave this place and hijack it out of here. I doubt those spirits will kill anyone, but that can easily change in a second. Of course, it’s also your choice too. Do you wanna even try, Fumihito?”

And that was where it all came back to.

Him.

Did he really want to try? Erlana wanted to save this town and he understood the reasons why, but there was also so much risk involved. He was basically someone who worked the front desk of a hospital before getting asked to perform septal myectomy with nothing but a spoon. It was an entire mess that he just couldn’t get past.

There was also the matter of the undead, his dream, and their presence.

He was terrified of necromancy and what it brought. The thought of trying to use it again was terrifying. There was so much black in that world he had seen within his dream and the first time he even reached out ended up with nothing but the dead overwhelming him. The worst part about it was that the more he tried to use necromancy, the more terrifying the dead became.

They came down upon him like a swarm and it felt like he was descending down the depths of an abyss. Cold hands reached for his throat, nails digging into his skin, voices whispering in his ear, nothing but an endless weight that crushed him. All he could remember was that horrible feeling.

He didn’t want to do it again, but…

“If I manage to do this, does that mean the town would be safe?"

The undead nodded and gestured toward the town.

“Aye, you’d set the spirits to rest and Tartarus would be safe.”

Erlana looked positively happy and Scrimgeour simply gave him a thumbs up. It looked like the two were glad about his choice, but none more so than the woman who reached out and grabbed his hand with both of hers, a bright warm smile on her face and those vermillion eyes peering into his.

“Oh, Fumihito!”

Scrimgeour cackled for a moment and rested a hand against his ribs the moment they laid their skull on his flustered face. Seriously, couldn’t he go and bury his head back into the dirt right where he belonged?

“Well then, it looks like we’ve got a town to save. So, how’s about you show us to this town’s graveyard, Erlana?”

Fumihito was a normal man. That much was true. However, being told that he had to go and talk down an entire onslaught of spirits from consuming a town in their despair?

Well, he would have preferred another normal day if he could…