Chapter 3: Becoming Professionals

“Jack, do you have to leave?” Mei's voice was monotonous. She had little tone if any since the day she saw the Underworld. But the family knew this was as close as she got to pleading.

“Yeah, time to see what else is out there. I hear they have a really good school there for the elements.” He continued to put his clothing in a sack along with a few trinkets he used in the past for magic. Dartimien threw the sacks onto a cart. A caravan was heading out there that Jack paid to take him as well. He promised a safe passage as well, since his elemental abilities would be useful while going north of the wall for a portion of the trip.

“Le' 'im go, Mei. Charr nor Northern Wall ganna stop the fool now.” Dartimien grinned and playfully punched Jack's arm. Mei thought Jack's arm was going to break. Dart was 16 and training at the academy to become a warrior after their father.

“Why not Drascir? It's much closer and I hear they have a nice vault of necromantic texts I could look at when I visit you. I hear Nolani is mostly elemental and mesmer texts.”

“Actually I'm interested in the mesmer texts. I think I want to learn a bit about them and the crafts Lyssa's given them.”

Mei stopped, her jaw dropping. Dartimien lugged the last sack into the cart and grunted at Jack, “Pussy. Art of Lyssa's nothin' but woman's wile. Beauty, chaos, deception, heart break, being told ya can't drink.”

Mei glared at Dartimien, “You're still bitter about that tart mom warned you about? When she told you to stop drinking and that she disliked you fighting you should have gotten the hint.”

Dartimien grumbled as Jack got on the cart alongside the drive. He smiled to his siblings, “It's been fun. Stay out of trouble as much as you can and take care of mom and dad. I want to hear stories about you and dad, Dart. And Mei, I better not hear of you destroying a town in your experiments.” He smiled and winked at her. She let a small grin appear on her face, though the smile was so unsettling it caused most to shiver.

The wagon started down the road, and the three waved to each other until the caravan was but a speck on the horizon, heading closer to the northern wall. Apparently they were stopping briefly at Picken. “How thick ya think the charr'll be, Mei?” Dartimien watched the wall. The large doors opened up, barely visible.

She turned around and headed to the house, “Enough that the Underworld will be healthily fed by the carnage. Jack always did like to make a mess of things. I'm going to continue my studies. I'll talk to you later.”

Dartimien unsheathed his sword, “I suppose I'll do the same. That or I'll get drunk.”

Mei paused and spoke weakly, “Aren't you a bit young to be doing that to your body already?”

“Dad trains me best he can. What can I say?” Mei could hear his boisterous laugh. She imagined his rather hearty frame shaking. His armor was made of furs. At least her dad's laughter clinked with the sound of metal.

She continued inside without another word, sniffling. The room was cold and calm. There were focuses in place to keep spirits out and to attune it to her own off-kilter energy. Entropy wracked her soul, ruining her if she was unattuned for too long. Jack helped her find a good center of balance. Jack had helped her with a good many things, and all she had to give back was the pain inside of her that kept their family on edge nearly constantly.

“Mei?” Her mother had just returned from the catacombs studying with Verata. Mei loathed Verata, feeling his soul invading hers every time they met. The way he looked at her she was unsure if he was sizing her up to become a minion or a lover. It might have been the same thing, as far as she knew.

“Yes, mother?” Tears dried quickly as her skin turned cold and pale. “How was your trip to the catacombs?”

“It could have been better. I really hope next time you'll come with. Verata keeps asking about you. You would be a good match. Powerful, charmingly dark. He created a spell that feeds off the necromancer in order to regenerate rotting minions. It's brilliant what he has done with the minions.”

“Verata is a bane to necromancy. He's wicked and you know it.” She left her room to go to the kitchen with her mother. “I feel as if he's prying at my soul whenever I'm around him.”

Frost formed down Mei's cheeks from the tears she had been crying. Her mother's hand brushed it away, her eyes sorrowful. “Meimei, why the tears, hun? Is it the Underworld's pull?”

She shook her head, “I just feel alone. It's cold to be here, but I've seen what the Underworld holds and I'm not ready for that either. It's existing that pains me.” Mei was held by her mother.

“It's alright, we'll figure out what's going on with you and heal it.”

A few months had passed since Jack left for Nolani. Mei agreed to follow her mother to the catacombs for a week. Dartimien and their father had been at the academy for a while as well, leaving their home empty for some time. There was to be a minions forum discussing the moral implications. Many monks who studied necromancy were expected to take up the side that those bodies should not be violated. Most necromancers only had a problem when souls were forced to participate in combat, kept out of the natural cycle of life.

Verata stood to speak. Most thought he would reveal his most recent in vile experiments, perhaps going as far as enslaving human souls to fight. “I have found that the bodies do not matter. We do not alter souls in this course. However, I would like to point to the soul of Mei Si, one of our apprentices, and a talented apprentice at that. Her soul is only loosely attached to her body, and I believe if we could discover a way to sever souls from bodies, the process of sending people to the Underworld so we can commandeer their corpses for other means would be increasingly expedient. Please, Mei Si, reveal to us the secrets of souls you most obviously revel in.” He grinned at Mei as he sat. The others in the room simply stared at her. That this apprentice would do more atrocious works than Verata had them all tongue tied.

“Well,” she stood, shaking slightly, “I desired to look into a row of murders and thought if I could trace a soul to the Underworld and question it, then I could learn a great deal from the soul on the mystery. Earth spells were used to attempt to anchor my soul to my body, grounding me to the physical world. I believe this would have worked except two of the more powerful enchantments anchoring my soul to my body were severed while I was still in the Underworld. On top of that, my soul was attacked while in the Underworld, which I believe distorted me a bit.”

There was a great deal of murmuring in the forum for a few moments. The necromancers were torn between intrigue at this concept and horror at the thought of traveling to the Underworld. Finally one of the elder necromancers spoke up, “Were you able to contact the dead and how did you trace the spirit?”

“I found a way to touch the soul so it would leave a mark where it traveled. I followed it past the physical barriers when I left my body. I did end up talking to the individual. It was then that I found out two of the enchantments being maintained were held up by the murderer.” She shook slightly still, but her voice was stable enough. Her smiled for a moment at her daughter, proud of the attention she was receiving. As soon as Mei saw the reassuring smile, her mother's face went blank, analyzing the situation as the elders would expect her to.

“And what are these claims about your soul?”

“When it was injured I was made colder. My eyes became this color and I lost color in my hair. Really it stripped some of my life away, and I regularly fight to keep my soul in this realm. I often have visions of the Underworld, as if I can scry it whenever I wish.”

“Your mind is doing alright?” Another elder began to ask questions.

“I think so. Considering my brother just left, I think I'm alright shedding a few tears for a sibling parting.” A few laughed, though Mei did not. It was, however, meant as a joke.

Mei's mother stood, “I would like to address there are records of a previous nation that Tyria once had contact with who does dabble in the use of souls for magic. They supposedly summon ancestral souls that they pray to and make sacrifices to, as to not force the spirits. We believe their Underworld may therefore work under different rules. However, there are several accounts of these souls revealing themselves while in chains, bringing up the question as to whether or not the souls are being forced or harmlessly solicited to do these deeds. Perhaps training such arts could assist Mei in her soul studies.”

The first elder spoke again, “Yes, you are right. But contact was long cut off from them and even if they did visit Tyria, we would be the last to know. Perhaps some day when we have travel to the continent of Cantha we can send Mei there to learn more about the soul. However, I think we have discussed this long enough. Poor Mei is an apprentice, and any other questions can be saved for latter on in the evening in more private settings.” They continued to speak of one thing or another, but Mei's mind was on her moment of fame and that her mother knew of a place that dabbled in souls, but only now told her. If she could find a way to chain her own soul to her body, she would be able to stop worrying about the connection, and perhaps restore her old appearance and vigor. Though she usually wasn't vain, Mei missed her dark purple hair in comparison to the muted color it was now.

“Mei Si, the intellectual genius of minions and death, perhaps far surpassing both her mother and the most incredible and arcane Verata.” A cold hand touched her bare shoulder. The armor strapped around her chest, not covering her shoulders. She glared off into the distance, her body becoming colder than his hand.

“Verata, what do I owe my displeasure to?” She turned, her eyes piercing him, making him shudder and lose his confidence for a second before he regained his bravado enough to smile. He looked into the distance when he finally did speak.

“Your mother told you, right? That I want you as a match. We could travel to Orr and Ahlan, do some research and bring it back to make Ascalon a stronger nation. You could even perhaps get your two brothers to join us. Jack would love the knowledge of Ahlan and Dartimien will find plenty of dwarves to bludgeon on our way down there. They could share a room and you and I could get one of their royal suites. I heard they run a fine price, but my prominence in Tyria has afforded me certain leisures others would not be privy to.”

“Or I can disembowel you and find out what makes you so arrogant. Perhaps shrunken tools you feel you have to make up for in an annoying personality. If the ladies are offended enough to leave you alone, I suppose they never find out.”

“Come now, angel of Grenth, do not be like this.”

Mei saw her mother in a crowd speaking with some of the elders. She was close to the inner circle in the catacombs and was working on her connections so when one went missing or left for the Mysts, she would have her foothold. “Excuse me, Verata, I must speak with my mother. Don't you have minions to tend to, or something? I hear now and then necromancers bleed out till death using your spells. Why don't you find out what that's like.”

She turned on him and didn't look back. His face would be slack at first, then tight and twisted in indignation. The squeak of boots was heard as she giggled a little. He turned stiffly and stormed off. It had been so long since she couldn't predict his reactions, and she loved forcing his hand into anger. It was almost cute besides how annoying he was when he spoke and wasn't angry.

Protocol forced her to wait for the elders to dismiss her mother, which took the edge from angering Verata from her. She hated waiting, and tapped her foot while she waited. A glance from her mother made her stop the tapping, but she still looked as unhappy and cold as ever. It was quite some time until her mother was free from the elders. “Mei, why the stern face?”

“You knew about spirits and how to use them, but you never told me?”

“I don't. They're called ritualists, a profession ignored here and most other places. The people of Cantha, a southern continent practice ancestral worship. At one point it was said that they didn't use magic, but simply called on their ancestors. The magic I believe binds them so they're easier to use. Before rituals to get ancestors could take hours, but the effects were also far more drastic. They were used when wars were coming, and the end of rituals marked the beginning of fighting. Storms would brew and strike down both sides. Rains would be so strong as to wipe away large armies into the ocean and Jade Sea before it was more literally named. It was an incredible time of power, despite a lack of power, for the ancestors were powerful and they were believed in and numerous. Magic forced it into rules and guidelines. It could be done quick and cheap. But it bound them, and their will opposed the magic of the gods. They were no longer prayed to and they were no longer given sacrifices. But still, souls were called on by the ritualists.”

Mei listened intently, then interrupted, “How do you know so much? I've never heard of Cantha.”

“It's not important any more. Trade lines were cut off decades ago. Anyway, the meeting is done and we should get back. I'll plan a trip to Drascir to see if they have any of the scripts. Otherwise write a letter to Jack asking if he could look. I'm sure he'd be interested in the ritualist profession.” Mei nodded her approval, and the two spoke of different theories on the way back to their village, both with a sack full of ancient texts they checked out from the order.

There was smoke on the horizon when they approached the village. Mei's mother dropped the sack and sprinted towards the village. It took a while for Mei to process what was going on, but when she saw the charr raiding party in the distance, it suddenly hit her. She followed her mother, though she was quite far behind.

By the time Mei reached the village, there were minions fending off the charr, but it didn't seem to stall them at all. Mei started raising her own, though her well traveled mother had far stronger and varied minions. The few villagers left were called to stand behind the line of minions. “Mei,” her mother turned to her, eyes glowing with the powers she called upon, “if I tell you to run, flea this place quickly. I'm not sure we'll survive.” Mei raised more minions, going as fast as her body could keep up.

Villagers hid behind the minions, crying as they watched the flesh and bones of their loved ones rise up as abominations. Most found it something of a discomfort to see their family brought back in this way, some of them even claiming such a resurrection was such an affront to Dwayna she wouldn't allow them into the Mysts. No one protested when the charr threat started to cut through the minion ranks despite Mei and her mother's best efforts.

Mei felt her tie to her minions broken, and watched as ten more raised out of the charr and villager corpses. “Mei, take the others. Tell them to flee from here. I can't keep this up, and though the charr will die, I can't hold the minions.” Ten more raised

“Everyone, get out of the village.” Mei pulled them back from the minions and led them to a hill far enough away that they weren't in danger. She ran back to help her mom.

The charr were struggling with the minions, but her mother had to drain great deals of blood to keep the minions alive. Color left her mother and the minions were out of her control. Her mother dropped to her knees, and three minions turned to devour her, ripping the flesh from her bone. There wasn't enough energy left in her to scream as they did so. Then they ripped through the charr, and one by one they died off, unable to sustain their life without their creator. Mei dropped to her knees, ice dropping from her eyes, frosting her cheeks and freezing the ground.

The villagers started down towards the town once more, seeing that the charr were gone. A few patted Mei on the back. She didn't react, her eyes wide. Her mother's body laid still on the ground, ripped at by her own minions.

The sun set and the air became cold. The stars were bright. Mei crawled up to her feet and made her way to the house. She packed what she needed and left a note for her brother and father should they return.

I'm in Nolani. Love Mei.