The paladin proved to be Emel, Sorin's second-in-command. Koray had never interacted with him for more than a moment and always in Sorin's company. He was nearly Sorin's shadow, they worked so closely together. Koray refused to wonder what it was like to work so closely with someone; necromancers were too sparse in number to work together for long.
He was a handsome man, with short, dark brown hair and hazel eyes when they did not glow violet. If not for the scar across his nose and cheek and the crooked set to his nose from having been broken on at least three occasions from what Koray had heard, he would have been pretty. He was slighter than Sorin, but fast and brutally efficient. For all that, he seemed almost gentle in demeanor.
Emel scrubbed a hand through his hair and stared up at the clouds hiding the sky and casting down a light drizzle. Koray hoped the rain backed off entirely, but had no faith. Better rain than snow, he supposed, but was not entirely convinced.
"High Necromancer," Emel greeted when he saw Koray. "I did not mean to disturb your slumber."
"Necromancers work at night," Koray said. "I'm not accustomed to sleeping at this time; you are not bothering me. Why does everyone keep calling me that?"
Emel flashed a brief smile. "You
are
High Necromancer. I did not know such a thing was possible, but I've seen your power and I can feel it when you're close, the same way I can feel it from Sorin and the High Priest. Why we have thought so ill of necromancers all this time, I do not know. I regret now every necromancer I passed without a thought … and I am sorry for the way you were treated upon your arrival. I do not think any of us ever apologized to you directly; I do so now."
"Forget it," Koray dismissed, startled by the apology. "Why are you having trouble sleeping?"
"Restless thoughts, worries," Emel replied, another smile curving his lips for a moment. "The usual. Are you having any luck figuring out how our culprit is hiding that he can use demon magic?"
Koray shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I think it will take someone of greater magical ability than I."
"It would take a high priest, and of course, the only two men of that caliber are dead."
"Whoever he is, he is regrettably not stupid," Koray said. "I think it would take an alchemist's sensitivity to energies to pick him out, though of course, I'm still hoping the books will provide another way."
Emel turned to look at him, shifting slightly, voice full of curiosity. "An alchemist could do that? You've met alchemists? It is true that they capture souls in jewels?"
Koray rolled his eyes. "I see the country knows as much about alchemists as it does about necromancers." Emel flinched, and Koray hated that actually made him feel bad. He had never felt bad about being scathing toward paladins, or anyone else, before. Sorin was definitely to blame for all of it. Curbing his tongue, Koray said, "It's not that they capture souls. An alchemist once explained it to me thus: all living thing possess energy. There is what they call natural energies, which are contained in things like plants, the earth, even water and such. Priests and paladins have what they call magical energy, but which we would probably call spiritual energy, I think. Necromancers … the alchemist I spoke to said we have dark energy, some sort of reverse of the spiritual energy of priests and paladins. Demons are corrupt and have no energy of their own, so they must steal it, but of course everyone knows that."
"I wish I could see these energies," Emel said. "It sounds like that would be an extremely useful skill to have. So I guess they are not slaves, either."
"Most would say they are," Koray conceded. He looked out over the landscape. "Alchemists are what their government calls 'sponsored'. Magic is tightly regulated in Navath; only alchemy is permitted. All other forms are forbidden. It takes a lot of studying, training, and equipment to be an alchemist. Anyone with potential becomes a ward of the crown and is made to train as an alchemist. When their training is complete, they're sold off to sponsors. They're very cold about magic; they do not believe in the Goddess at all." His lips curled as he finished explaining, sneering at the foolishness of people who did not listen to and obey the Goddess.
Emel shared his derision. "I grew up very close to the border of the Lost North. If not for the Goddess I would be dead, probably one more ghost needing your touch, High Necromancer." He hesitated, then fell silent, looking up at the rain once more.
"Ask your question," Koray said irritably.
"Have you ever heard of … well, a demon that stops being a demon?"
Koray stared at him, shocked beyond words. Whatever he had expected, it was not that. But the pulsing in his head that had guided him to Emel eased away. "No, I haven't. That sounds like either blasphemy or a fool's hope, though why anyone would want a demon anything but dead …" He stopped when Emel gave an almost imperceptible wince. "Do not tell me you know a demon."
"No," Emel said. "I don't. But I knew someone once, as a boy, who I think became a demon. He fell into the magic and one day did not return from the woods. Some months later, I am fairly certain he was one of the demons that razed the village. He was killed by paladins, but I always wondered if he could have been saved. That's all. As you say, a fool's hope. I should never have mentioned it. Please, forget it, High Necromancer."
"Whatever you wish," Koray said, just so the man would relax. But he tucked the question away, because if the Goddess had commanded him outside to hear it then he would need to recall it later.
They both turned at the sounds of movement coming from the barn to see the others leading the horses out. "I guess no one is sleeping," one of the men said with a sigh.
"At least we'll get this all done sooner," Emel said and mounted up.
Koray made a face, but swung up into his own saddle. He raised his brows in question when he saw Emel watching him.
"Are you any good with that sword, High Necromancer?"
"I'm no paladin, but I'm not dead yet," Koray replied. "Why?"
Emel gestured dismissively. "I don't know your strengths as I know those of my men. There was no chance to ask before, and I need to know what you can and cannot do. Why the staff?"
"I do a lot of walking, and it can cause harm without the risk of killing," Koray said. "I deal enough in death without dealing death."
Nodding, Emel said nothing more, only spurred his horse into motion and led the way down the road.
It was still raining when they finally reached their destination, but though the rain might have dulled his ability to smell death, it by no means affected his ability to
feel
it. And he did feel it, so strongly it left him dizzy. It was not the number of bodies that struck him so hard—it was the amount of pain in which they had died. The anguish and the agony were what hurt, what left ghosts.
Reaching what remained of the farmhouse, broken and burned with decaying bodies before it, the group dismounted. "Wait here, High Necromancer," Emel said. "Let us be certain the area is clear, though I feel no demonic presence."
Koray nodded, more than happy to let someone else—someone better suited—have that unenviable task. He contented himself with going to the bodies piled like so much junk in front of the house, not surprised that he saw no ghosts about. The demons had no doubt been desperate to replenish their stores of spiritual energy and fed upon their souls, leaving nothing to make a ghost.
He looked up as the paladins reappeared, faces pale, mouths set with anger and eyes dark with pain. Emel looked at him. "Ghosts?"
"Not out here," Koray said quietly. "But I feel them, so probably in the house."
Emel shook his head. "If you do not have to go in there, don't. You don't want to see what these demons did." He pointed his sword at the carelessly piled corpses. "They were given merciful deaths by comparison."
Normally Koray would have snapped that he had seen far worse, but the look on Emel's face stilled his tongue. "I need to see the ghost, if only to learn if there is any information it can convey to us that we might need to know. It's strange for demons to be here, is it not?"
"Not so strange anymore," one of the other paladins said with a grimace. "It's getting worse, but damned if we can figure out why." Around him the others grumbled in agreement and worry, subsiding only when Emel motioned for them to do so.
Koray drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, bracing himself for whatever horrors faced him in the house. "I am going to find the ghost, I'll return as quickly as I can."
"I'll go with you," Emel said and led the way into what remained of the house.
The first body had been secured to the wall of the front room with the long, thin knives favored by demons when they did not simply use their claws. To judge by the blood, they had pinned the man while he was still alive—but death had not kept them from continuing to have fun with him. Koray turned away from the body, the bruises and claw marks and dried blood that had dripped from far too many places, and sought out the ghost he could feel. Opening up his senses, battling the sorrow and pain and rage that threatened to drive him to his knees, he pushed on through the house, careful of his footing, wrinkling his noses at the foul smells.
In what had clearly been a bedroom, a woman and child had suffered far more than the unfortunate man in the sitting room. All three ghosts were huddled in the room, the man clinging to the woman and child, trying to comfort them while looking hopelessly lost.
He met Koray's gaze and his eyes widened when he realized Koray could see him. Letting go of his family, he cautiously ventured closer. When Koray nodded at him, he beckoned his family to join him, all three of them watching Koray anxiously. Koray took out his bowl, placed incense inside it, and set it on a clear bit of floor. Lighting the incense, he let it waft around the room, then cupped his right hand over his left so that his arms were parallel with the floor, and began to chant. In his cupped hands, soft gold-violet light began to coalesce, shimmering where it slipped between his fingers. Opening his hands, fanning them out, apart, and finally down, the gold-violet light spread across the room and flashed blindingly as it touched the ghosts and lodged in their throats. "Speak to me," Koray said softly, holding his arms out invitingly, bidding them share their pain. "Let me hear what you need to say."
"The demons were scared,"
the child said, and Koray was not at all surprised. Children, while the most heart-breaking, adjusted better than adults.
"They were scared of something."
"They had no magic when they arrived,"
the man finally said, his words coming slowly, like a river half-frozen by winter.
"Stole all of the souls, had no need of ours by the end. But my daughter is correct—they had the air of terrified men, desperate to get away from whatever was on their heels."
Koray nodded and glanced to the woman, but she said nothing, only stared vacantly. "Thank you," Koray said and drew his hands together in prayer, then cast the spell of banishment and purification. It rippled through him, drawing on his spiritual energies, then flowed out, touching every ghost and bit of contamination that lingered across the house and fields. He felt all the negativity draw back into him, cleansing itself in his power and spirit, before spilling back out again, contamination purified and the ghosts shimmering away to go to the Goddess' embrace.
"I can't believe how different it feels after you do that," Emel said quietly. "It's become painfully obvious you're no demon, no enemy. Why are we only now learning of this?"
"Only the Goddess could say, I suspect," Koray said. Emel nodded and turned to lead the way out of the house.
Outside, the other paladins stood around the pile of bodies praying, offering what they could since the rain prevented burning the bodies. "Did the ghost say anything?" Emel asked. "I heard you bid them speak."
Koray looked out over the landscape, weighing his words, then opted for honesty of a sort. "There were three, and they did speak. What they had to say was troubling, but I must speak with Sorin first."
"As you say, High Necromancer," Emel said and motioned for everyone to mount up. They rode off, pounding down the muddy road, chased by the rapidly descending night and a cold autumn rain that showed no signs of relenting.
Halfway to the tree line, a cold sensation shot down Koray's spine. By the way the paladins tensed, they too had sensed the demons. Koray moved aside and fell back because he would be absolutely useless in such a fight. He could barely stay on his horse; the idea of fighting from one was laughable.
The demons burst from the trees as they drew close and flew at them from a dead run—literally flew. Koray had heard of winged demons, but had never believed so outlandish a tale. Goddess, he wished it had been just a tale.
Two of the paladins died instantly, attacked from above, their necks cruelly snapped and bodies tossed carelessly aside to interfere with the horses. "Bloody demons!" Emel roared and threw one arm high, brilliant purple light bursting from the palm of his hand.
With screams of fury and pain the demons fell from the sky. Koray reeled out of the way as best he could, threw himself off his horse, and drew his sword before darting well away from the fight. He watched, terrified and awed, as the paladins proved their mettle as warriors of the Goddess.
A third paladin fell before the bloodshed finally ceased, but he took the last remaining demon with him in a roar and flash of silver-lavender light. Koray sheathed his sword and approached the battlefield, dropping to his knees beside the last paladin to fall. Drawing his hands together in prayer, he cast the spell of purification to put the ghosts of the paladins to rest and cleanse the poisoned battlefield.
When he finished, Koray fell out of his trance, staring numbly at the body before him, the others nearby.
"High Necromancer," Emel said softly and held out his hands.
Koray took them without thinking and let Emel tug him to his feet. He startled when Emel wiped tears from his face, realizing only then that he had been crying.