Dawn of the Dead

“You two want to visit the town cemetery? Are you sure?”

That was the first question Viggo had asked when Erlana and he had arrived at the man’s doorstep once again. While Erlana had told him she had been here, she had never once visited the cemetery. Talking about it with the locals also didn’t pan out too well because whenever he even tried to bring it up, most of them turned away and shivered at the mention of it. So, it stood to reason that the cemetery here was possibly as desolate as the town itself.

So, they went to the only person they knew in Tartarus.

Well, the only one who had bothered to get up off his rear and save two ignorant souls from death. He wouldn’t have used those words, but they weren’t exactly wrong.

“Yes, we know we took up some of your time and space this morning, but we’d like to pay a visit to the cemetery. Mainly to pay respects before we leave.”

It was a white lie he said, but it sounded better than telling the man he was a necromancer. Erlana had told him that while necromancy wasn’t viewed as something evil and while he was happy to hear, the fact that they would distrust him still existed. Not to mention the circumstances of Tartarus and his being here possibly endangering them even further was arguably going to have them mount his head on a pike.

The thought of it left a cold sweat down his neck before Viggo’s curious look became a sound one.

“If that’s what the two of you want to do, follow me. I’d just recommend you two don’t linger around. It’s harder on non-mages like myself to be near such a place of death,” the man mentioned before he parted the two of them with a simple motion of his hand and led the way forward.

He noticed a few people seemed to linger on Viggo’s frame before their eyes crossed Erlana and him yet again. She tried to wave at some of them before they whipped their heads away and went back to their business. Even now, he could tell they would have preferred to be alone rather than deal with anybody else.

Maybe they resented Erlana and him for what they couldn’t have in this town. Freedom.

Regardless, he was met with a curious case as Viggo led them through the town past the men and women who went about their days stumbling like zombies.

“You mentioned you were a non-mage? Is that like having no magic at all?”

From what he originally understood, he was led to believe most, if not all, people in this world could learn magic. Erlana made this entire world seem magical and while he had doubts everybody would use it, it seemed just as likely that some would go about their way wanting to use magic. After all, it wasn’t like he would expect his world to refrain from the same thing if given the chance.

Viggo had a rather curious look in his eyes before shaking his head.

“No, not exactly. To be fair, everybody does have the potential for magic to a degree. There was a time when most didn’t have that potential. During the great wars?”

During Scrimgeour’s time then?

The old baker continued.

“Well, nowadays most people have the aptitude for magic, but there are those who cannot perform it. Think of it like someone who can learn, but it won’t amount to a lot if your quality is low. That’s basically what I am. Could I learn? Possibly, but I’d probably only learn the bare minimum like alchemy.”

He never would have thought a word so steeped in magic would still have some drawbacks. Most of the things Erlana had mentioned or shown him seemed to be intriguing. As soon as he turned toward Erlana to ask about it further, he was met with her pushing her hat down and masking her expression.

Not a sign of those eyes barring a warm smile, but one that left him feeling conflicted. It was the same smile he had seen whenever she stumbled upon Scrimgeour and him trying to focus on his abilities. It felt so hollow, almost fake.

And it felt like he couldn’t do a thing.

“Anyways, we should be there soon. Just remember to be careful, alright? A lot of the people here don’t go around anymore after the curse began. It’s become a place of paranoia. I’m not sure if it’s true or not, but I’d rather not risk it,” Viggo stated before the man turned a corner and moved onwards.

If only Scrimgeour was here to help them out, but there was a problem with that. Mainly the barrier centered around the entire city in an attempt to repel and keep everything else outside of it. After all...

“Wait, so you’re saying you can’t get through the town?”

He was astounded by the shake of Scrimgeour’s head before Erlana’s eyes were raised in realization.

“Because the barrier was designed to repel undead. It repels foreign spirits and entities, so it’s possible Scrimgeour here would suffer the same fate. Is that why you can’t come with us?”

Scrimgeour gave the two of them a nod. 

“Exactly, I couldn’t get through even if I wanted to. The two of you are going to have to go without me. The only way I could even possibly get through is if you erase the markings here and that’s not a good idea. Just make sure to reach the cemetery and try to communicate with the dead. It’s the only chance we have to at least learn why the spirits are in such an uproar.”

It left him annoyed that their only conduit of death, arguably the only person who could give him some semblance of advice, was restrained because of paranoia. Then again, it wasn’t like he could blame anybody for their paranoia when an entire town became haunted and riddled with spirits who wanted to bring it down with their pain.

Eventually, Viggo left them at the rustic gates of an old cemetery. The place was as desolate as expected and most of the graves within looked like they had been overgrown from the surrounding fauna and plant life. It was hard to even call it a cemetery anymore and some of the graves looked like they had been shattered to pieces beneath the bright sun above.

“By the gods, this place…,” Erlana mumbled at the sight of it and stepped forward before looking around. She could hardly spot anything that looked safe or even handled properly.

The entire graveyard was just a mess of undercare and overgrowth as soon as he followed Erlana. Being around here only pressed that rotten smell from before deep into his nostrils. It seemed unlikely that any of the spirits from before would have been within. Otherwise, it was possible they’d have erupted from inside the barrier and go on from there.

He stepped past a series of vines before his shoes kicked up against a single piece of stone at his feet. Fumihito paused and kneeled to take a closer look, reaching out and flipping the stone over to get a look. A name that had been scratched off was all he could see. Was this because people were angry or was this just because of the spirits who were neglected?

At the very least, he could say he felt at home around this place despite the appearance it had. Much like when he was back at the village where Erlana had summoned him, the graveyard almost felt relaxing to him. He didn’t think much of it, not until now. His thumb brushed against stone and a brush of cold air seemed to roll across his nape.

“I think I can feel something. It’s… It’s hard to describe though.”

It felt like he was submerged in water, drowning beneath the waves. His throat felt dry, his lips parched, his arms felt brittle, and his legs felt stiff to the bone. If he reached out with his hand, it almost felt like he was dragging it upwards beneath the wild waves of an ocean. His eyes narrowed and he gently pressed his hands into the ground.

Erlana walked over and kneeled right beside him to take a closer look at the gravesite he was at. Her expression had grown solemn and her hands had stopped trembling once she took a long look at the graveyard before her. He could only imagine how she felt looking at a place that was supposed to be there for the dead after they passed. Even if it was just a graveyard, it was shocking how people could abandon this place.

But who was he to judge them? After all, if he had suffered for months on end because of angry spirits, he might have very well done the same.

“I still can’t believe it’s gotten this bad. Was this really because everybody was afraid?”

Erlana shook her head from side to side at the thought of it all while Fumihito dragged his eyes around from the earth and back to her. It wasn’t like he could say no. These people had suffered for months under agonizing wails of grief and they only learned that the spirits from the beyond wouldn’t ever leave them either. It was a recipe for disaster.

“It’s not like we can blame them. These people have had to deal with this for a couple of months from what someone told me. I doubt it’s a pretty sight and I’m sure all their resentment eventually reached a limit,” he mumbled and glanced back at the rest of the cemetery. A place that was there for the dead and passing of them was now just a shadow of what it was.

Instead, it served as a reminder of what they all hated most. An inevitable fate.

“It’s still not something I like, Fumihito,” she replied with a frown before looking back at him and his hand on the ground.

“What are you trying to do?”

He raised his brow and looked back at her with a worried look.

“What do you mean? Isn’t this how you do necromancy? Contact the spirits from the grave?”

Erlana, however, simply shrugged her shoulders and motioned toward the rest of the graveyard with a wave of her hand.

“I’m not too sure about that. I just know spirits can be tethered to places, but it doesn’t always necessarily deal with the earth beneath our feet. Maybe try reaching out and calling them?”

Fumihito sighed before he rose to his feet and steadied his legs. Reach out and call them? The only instance of that he could vaguely remember was when he first reached out back at the first town. That experience alone was enough to make him wary of trying necromancy again, but he had to give this a shot. He had to try and give this town a chance.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before extending his hand out into the air.

For the next five minutes, he stood there without a single sound or motion other than trying to will intent just like Erlana and Scrimgeour had said before. His eyes were squinted shut and his hand trembled every so often, but nothing seemed to be working. His face was growing queasy from trying to maintain this stance and he was pretty sure his legs were growing stiff doing nothing but standing in one single pose.

‘Is this not working? I want to see someone, anyone… Just let me talk to a single person here. Hear me NOW!’

He opened up one of his eyes and looked at nothing. Nothing but the slight wiggling of a few plants beneath the wind and the hot sun above still shining down upon Erlana and him. Speaking of, she was blankly staring at him with a somewhat wilted, albeit optimistic, look.

At least, she was trying to, but he could see how she was struggling to maintain such an optimistic smile on her face when nothing had happened.

“I… I just don’t know what I’m meant to do. The intent and magic aren’t working. I feel like I’m making an ass out of myself standing around and doing nothing here, Erlana.”

It was just frustration and he didn’t mean to be so annoying about it, but it wasn’t like Erlana was the one trying to reach out. Nothing about this intent and feeling emotion seemed to work and he wasn’t going to try screaming out random names either. It just felt like nothing was working.

“Fumihito, it’s okay. You’re new to this, but you just need to keep trying. Remember that most magic can be backed up by intent. You need to want something enough to make a reaction.”

But why did she have to be so convincing about things even when he was frustrated? He bristled for a moment and clenched his fists before taking a deep breath and looking back at the rest of the cemetery. Once again, he was met with the abandonment and sickening feeling he had gotten when arriving. How a cemetery that was once visited was now left to rot and decay over time.

With not a single ounce of love left.

“Alright, okay… I’ll…”

Erlana stepped closer and pressed a hand against his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

“It’s okay, Fumihito. Just take a breath, be calm, and focus. Ignore everything and focus, alright?”

He gave her a small nod before closing his eyes and reaching out with both of his hands once more. His breathing was slow and his hands were outstretched before he tried to imagine that feeling he had when he was back in the first town before with Erlana.

How he begged, how he wanted, and how he desired the nature of necromancy in the first place. All he needed to do was stretch it out and try to ask for someone instead. His nostrils flared and he did his utmost to focus on communication. Something sparked through his veins and a shudder tore through his arms as he winced, but he pushed through and took another deep breath of air.

Erlana gasped the second a sudden dance of purple energy that danced across the man’s hands. Her eyes grew in awe at the sight of what seemed to be bits of purple flickering from Fumihito’s hands before a sudden chill rippled through the air and across her nape. She froze moments before tendrils of purple seemingly floated from the ground.

The grass wilted and the vines that wrapped around the gravestones seemed to wither and flake away to pieces. She stepped back as the soil beneath her feet became black and the stones around her rumbled and shook.

“F-Fumihito…”

But he wasn’t listening.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

His body felt like it had been dipped beneath an icy lake.

His fingers felt stiff.

His mind felt clouded.

Moments before a sudden whisper tore through the air. A hand grasped at his neck, another reached for his chest, and several more crawled across his body. He was rooted to the spot in fear as appendages rose from the soil and up to his body. It was like his body was slowly being dragged down into the depths below, with everything and everybody there watching in awe.

A whimper tore through his throat before a warm sensation wrapped around his hand. His eyes strayed away from the ethereal rise and there, standing in front of him, was Erlana with one hand wrapped around his. She looked scared, but she still managed to give him a firm and supportive nod despite how her body shook and how her legs trembled.

He took one deep breath and closed his eyes, letting his heart slow back down into a calm rhythm. The man opened his eyes once more and saw how the hands that once clawed at his body had slowed. No longer did they grab at his throat and tug at his clothing. Instead, they were frozen on the spot, sinking back into the ground as he pulled Erlana close.

“I… Can any of you speak?”

Erlana gasped once a single shape began to rise from the ground and form in the air. Clumps of ethereal blue molded together to form a singular humanoid shape. It looked vaguely feminine, but it seemed to resemble something that lacked parts. Pieces of their body fragmented into cracked pieces of glass across their form.

They stared at him with a faceless visage.

Several more rose from the ground around it, standing behind. One of them was about the size of a child, another the size of a large man, and the rest that formed various shapes and bodies. Only they stood in the back, their limbs limp and their bodies as fragmented as the very first that stood amongst them.

Once again, he took a deep breath to avoid shivering on the spot.

“C-Can you talk?”

They stared at him silently before giving a small nod.

“Right… I… I wanted to ask if any of you knew about the rest of the spirits outside. The ones that wail away every night. Do you… Do you know why they’re doing it? Why won't they stop?”

The first spirit paused for a single instance before pressing its fragmented hand into its jaw. He could see how their body cracked and shuddered with every shift they made and yet they didn’t look the least bit bothered. A hoarse crack escaped the spirit’s voice as glass and gravel crunched together to form a sound.

“Yes.”

It was a simple answer, but enough.

He reached out with one hand and kept it at a safe distance, a gesture to have the spirits remain where they were. There was no telling if they could snap and start attacking or if they would do something else.

“Then why? Why won’t they rest?”

The spirit lowered their hand before tilting their head, almost as if to mock him. It stepped forward and he raised a hand to Erlana to keep her behind him rather than close. It was probably useless in the long haul, but he wanted to try regardless. The spirit closed the distance between the two of them and leaned in close, hands behind their back, and if it had eyes he was sure they’d be twinkling.

It leaned in close and brushed a hand against his jaw, a blast of cold spreading across his skin like ice had grazed his face before it nodded.

“Because they miss them. They miss their families, their mothers, their fathers, their husbands, their wives, and their children. The plague took, it stole, and it killed. They want to be with them. To go back to them… Not hurt, go back,” it croaked once more before it tilted its head to the side and gestured toward the graveyard.

“They were pushed away, left outside. They want them back, they’re crying every night. All they want is here, love, and others.”

"They were lost...," one spoke up.

"They were forgotten...," another whimpered.

"They were so, so hungry...," and another giggled.

So, it was all coming back to the plague that he had heard about. From what he could remember, he understood that the death toll was high at the time. Was it possible that every spirit that had been pushed outside was a victim at some point of the plague? Even if they were, that might explain why they weren’t malevolent.

At least not on purpose, but he was left with one more question even though the first spirit was inches away from his face.

“...How do I stop them?”

The spirit’s body twitched, almost violently. Fragmented limbs separated and closed back in, scraping against one another, their neck cracking, and their limbs contorting on the spot before they froze. Their faceless expression was close, practically right against his nose, but their voice had finally found itself.

Soft-spoken.

“You don’t, you appease. You talk, you show, and you guide. It’s your path, isn’t it, necromancer?”

They stared at him for a single moment before their hands cupped his cheeks. Erlana reached out for an instant before the faceless head snapped to the side and peered at her. It was enough to freeze her on the spot before it looked back at him and leaned in close, their temple pressed against his.

It was like his head was submerged in ice, his skull growing colder by the moment.

“...And if I fail?”

He couldn’t see an expression, but he was positive that if he could, it would have been a grim one.

“Then they’ll tear you and everybody else apart, no mercy, kindness, or warmth.”

The spirit spoke their final piece before they stepped back. Bits and pieces of their frame began to dissipate and their glass-like body began to crumble into the ground, becoming nothing once more. He could only watch as they became nothingness once more, but he would never forget the shift in their faceless expression. How it became that of a woman for a single moment before it vanished in the next instant, splintered apart, and left to vanish back into the afterlife once more.

Spirits all over the graveyard stepped back as their bodies descended back into the ground and air. Most of them lingered for a split second with their faces directed toward Erlana and him before their bodies broke apart and scattered, vanishing as fast as they had appeared.

The energy in the air began to vanish and the bright purple power coursing through his veins and igniting his blood had finally gone silent. As soon as it was gone, he clutched his chest and gasped for life as every fiber in his being came back to fear.

“Now I see why necromancers rarely ever show themselves,” Erlana mumbled by his side, flopping to her knees and resting a hand against her heart with sweat rolling down her brows.

She wasn’t the only one.

Because he had learned enough, but he also learned the consequences of failure.

“Erlana, if we fail, do you think it means…”

He didn’t need to see the expression on her face. It was enough to know that her quivering breath and stumbling words were enough to confirm the worst of his fears. If he failed to talk to the entirety of those spirits, then that was it. Not just for the town, but for Erlana and him.

‘...What am I supposed to do?’