Tales from the Star Realm: Chapter II - Lavender, the Necromancer from Thalázad

The last rays of sun bid farewell on the horizon, flashing through the icy mist. The temperature dropped abruptly. The wind swept across the snow-covered ground. It was quiet. Almost idyllic. And not a soul for miles around. Then a cloaked figure trudged through the frosty mist of the Northlands. But what was he doing here?

"Blast it all! Won't you grant me anything? Damn it! Where have I ended up in this wasteland?"

A young elven ranger looked up at the sky. His eyes wandered to the constellation of the old Raven. He always did this when he lost his bearings. It always gave him a spark of hope and a piece of his inner peace back. So he made it a habit to fix his gaze on the high stars when he paused. They taught him a great deal of humility at a young age, more than the elves around him ever did. And so he always turned to them when he had strayed from his path.

And so it happened on this mysterious night.

Lavender was at his limit and had to collect himself for a moment to regain his strength. The rather tall, lost wanderer had been marching for quite a while, freezing and trembling all over.

Slowly, the feeling spread that he wouldn't make it this time. Yet he knew this feeling all too well. It was like an acquaintance. An old friend he would rather not have let into his life. And yet there they stood. Together. Cursing. Two friends on the brink of an abyss, in the middle of nowhere in the icy North Chasm.

"I don't know where else to look. I'm tired of trudging through this icy wasteland. And you, you useless piece? You're no help to me anymore!"

The deathly pale elven ranger spoke to an object in his hand. A not-too-large, handy silver bone, from which razor-sharp teeth protruded, wrapped in turquoise ribbons. At first glance, it was hard to guess whether it was a weapon or a piece of jewelry.

His grip was firm. He clung to his souvenir, as he always had. For Lavender had spent so many nights in cold and loneliness that he could barely count them.

The Icy North Chasm: The Northlands are both revered and feared throughout the Star Realm. Everyone in the northern hemisphere knows that no life thrives in this part of the country. No one willingly travels to these merciless lands. There is simply no reason to expose oneself to this unnecessary danger – suicidal individuals being the exception. And for adventurers, the Northlands also hold their appeal. A land not often trod often conceals one secret or another, does it not? Or so they say.

"And I always say it again. You can't trust a human. So in the end, I must have fallen victim to folly myself. Who am I to blame?"

The exhausted elven ranger's lips turned blue. Hope was fading, and it was almost certain that he would not live to see another day.

His tattered grey shoes and his pitch-black cloak with golden embellishments, worthy of an elf, had long ceased to keep him warm. And the provisions he had brought? They were also running low.

What a poor fool.

The dying man had only some elven Bolognese left in a small provisions flask, which he had saved until the very end.

Elves always had the peculiar habit of eating their food from provisions flasks. And that was why one never quite knew if they were eating or drinking. But at least these flasks were adorned with beautiful runes and picturesque images of the families, which differed from elf-house to elf-house. They were a real eye-catcher, usually very valuable and even extraordinarily coveted by non-elves.

"I can't do it. I think I miscalculated."

"But you were so sure you would find it here?" a soft voice hummed out of nowhere.

"I still am. Unfortunately, time is running out. I have to hurry."

Lavender's strength continued to wane. He closed his eyes to compose himself one last time. A crow flew through the cold in the far distance and slowly approached. It flew a little way in front of Lavender, as if calling the elf to it.

"What is that? Can it be?"

With his last strength, he set off to follow the sounds of the approaching crow. It was as if it were calling him. As if he could understand it. He trudged very slowly through the snowdrifts. And his path finally ended at a large rock face. There was no trace of the crow at first. It was as if it were enchanted.

Our elf friend knew immediately that the rock face where he had unexpectedly landed looked rather strange. Something was wrong here. The wall didn't quite fit the picture, so he examined it a little more closely. Within seconds, he discovered a tiny recess that could easily have been overlooked.

"Well, let's see. What have we here? Ha! I knew it!"

After some gentle fumbling, absolutely nothing happened. Disappointment spread, taking a seat beside the cold.

"Damn it. Something must be hidden here, mustn't it? The outlines of this entrance are so obviously carved into the stone that even my deceased grandmother would recognize them. Bless the High Varcanas!"

It seemed as if the rock face did not want to be disenchanted, and the elven ranger was on the verge of despair. Then, as if from nowhere, the crow shot forward. It flew directly at Lavender and landed beside him on the ground. After a loud bang and an even louder flash of lightning, a half-dead, bone-rattling figure emerged from the mist.

"Hello, Seeker. What have we here? I have been watching you for quite some time, as you trudged aimlessly around here. So tell me. What is a necromancer from Thalázad doing in these icy climes? What do you seek to find here, you are a scholar, are you not?"

Thalázad: A small desert region in the eastern center of the Star Realm. The city is a bony fortress and serves as the main seat for the not-so-empathetic necromancers, from where they control the entire region. The place is guarded day and night by fiery skeleton archers and oversized armored skeletons. The walls therefore appear insurmountable to intruders.

The necromancers of Thalázad, like most creatures in the Star Realm, cannot wield magic, but they have found a way to cheat death.

"How do you know...? Oh, never mind. I guess I have nothing left to lose. And to be honest. I received news. Fleeting rumors spoke of a secret hidden in the North Chasm. One day it overcame me. It was like a calling. My inner voice commanded me to follow this path. It was so clear. So distinct. I embarked on the arduous journey to explore these Northlands. But I should have thought twice about it."

"Indeed, my lord. This is no place for travelers or anyone of your kind. Your paltry puppeteer tricks will do you no good here. Be glad that I found you just in time. Now you are safe, for I am intimately familiar with the locale."

"And who are you, or rather, what exactly? I've heard of your kind before. But I can barely believe it. Can you transform at will? I didn't know Wildshapers existed so far up here."

Lavender scrutinized the heavily veiled figure in human form from head to toe. He didn't reveal much about himself. But he carried a very short staff under his brown robe. Was it a weapon or rather an enchanted staff?

"You won't find many of my kind here in the North Chasm. You're quite right about that. But you're lucky that I found you. So show a little gratitude!"

The elven ranger and the Wildshaper were a strange pair. They looked at each other skeptically for a moment. Given his condition, Lavender had little choice but to accept any help he could still get. So he decided, without further ado, to trust the Wanderer for the time being.

"And can you conjure us out of this cold? Or can you only change your costume? I certainly can't stand this biting cold much longer. So if you want to help, please do so quickly."

The elf was running out of ideas. He had tried everything to activate the mechanism of the rock face, but he failed miserably.

"If you mean the questionable wall here, I'm as clueless as you are. Why don't you try one of your magic tricks? Your funny toy isn't going to let you down so close to the finish line, is it?"

Lavender had no choice, as he was on the verge of freezing to death. He reached for his bony companion at his waistband and whispered a kind of spell, full of concentration, which he had probably learned in Thalázad.

"Boom!"

It blasted like a fired blunderbuss!

A three-horned, humanoid skeleton shot out of the enchanted object. This was no human in life. That much was certain. It was a creature the Wildshaper had never seen before.

"What the...? Necromancers. Always good for a surprise, aren't they? What remarkable life form do we have here...? What a monstrosity it must have been in life? Hardly a mountain goat."

"Spur, my old boy. I need your help."

Lavender's friend had often helped him out of a jam. And so it was to happen this time too. For the ominous being saw what those condemned to life with their limited comprehension could not see.

The bony subordinate understood instantly and pointed to a tiny curve in the stone wall, from which a faintly shimmering aura emanated. Lavender reached in, pulled a wooden peg, and the wall began to tremble.

The three strange figures entered the exposed rock passage.

And the icy winds followed suit. They didn't stop even within the sanctuary. It hissed and whistled into the lowest depths of the dark dungeon. It smelled of pitch and sulfur. The elf felt uneasy.

"I can't see anything at all."

The deeper they ventured into the unknown, the darker it became. The Wildshaper drew an ice-fire and illuminated the corridor with a tiny flame.

"These runes don't look familiar to me at all," the Wanderer thought aloud.

"So you haven't been in these depths before, I assume?"

The Wanderer nodded and gazed into the unknown. The two unequal figures crept through the darkness, deeper and deeper into the dungeon.

"So? What kind of strange creature is that you have by your side? This species is quite unfamiliar to me."

"You mean old Spur? I'm not surprised. The Chalath are as good as extinct. There are only a few of their kind left, who moreover live quite reclusively. I think there's a reason why they don't openly embrace many in the Star Realm. They are remarkable creatures. They have lizard-like skin, three horns, and razor-sharp claws. You wouldn't want to break bread with them. Oh no, certainly not! But they are the most loyal creatures I have ever encountered."

Lavender glanced back to check on his bony comrade. He followed his every step.

"Spur has been with me for quite a while now."

"Then I assume he wasn't always so... skinless?" The Wanderer chuckled softly to himself.

"No. I've known him my whole life. I couldn't imagine a more loyal soul. Not then, and not now."

"Loyal unto death. Isn't that right?"

Lavender noticed the disparaging undertone. The bond the two unequal comrades had shared in Spur's lifetime had been severed too soon.

"What do you know about death? In Thalázad, it is your constant companion. And one thing can be said with certainty. What you understand as death certainly requires multiple perspectives and an open mind to see the things behind things."

"The words of a child who is not ready to accept the course of natural things."

"Silence, fool!" Lavender shot out like a cannon. But not because he felt attacked. They had reached the end of the long corridor and saw a library, all its books covered in dirt and dust.

The floor beneath them had moved.

"Stop! Don't move an inch!"

The Wildshaper had stepped on a pressure plate, and it was hard to imagine what would have happened if he had continued walking without the elf's warning words.

Lavender ordered his bone friend to retrieve a heavy stone from the corner and replace the Wildshaper's weight. Inch by inch, the skeleton pushed the stone onto the mechanism, and the Wildshaper regained his freedom of movement.

"Something doesn't want us to just wander around here, does it? I don't even want to know what this floor switch would have triggered," Lavender remarked. He looked around and the small holes in the walls told him everything he needed to know.

"That was it, then. We can't go any further," the elf said, a little disappointed.

"Are we not supposed to look around here undisturbed?" And there it was again. That peculiar giggle.

The Wildshaper used his ice-fire and extinguished the flame. He set it to frost, and a velvety-blue, cold light shimmered through the pitch-black room.

Lavender knew the usefulness of the object, but still wondered what this much darker light would do for them.

"That's not exactly helpful, if you ask me. Old man."

"Just wait," he said softly, as he scanned the walls of the darkroom.

"Ha! I knew it. Come here, impatient elf, and take a look at this."

And indeed. They saw a small inscription tablet in the furthest corner, glowing faintly in the frosty light.

The Wildshaper asked, "Can you read that?"

Lavender took a few steps closer, after calling Spur back into his silver bone.

"What have we here? This script. I've seen it before in an old book in Thalázad. It's not... the First Language. But can that really be? And these stars. What does that mean?"

Lavender looked utterly shocked and failed miserably at trying not to show it.

The Wildshaper's eyes widened.

"You can understand it, can't you?"

"I can read it, yes. But the words have no context. It's confusing."

"Well. Tell me, Elf! What is written there?"

"It speaks of a star constellation, it seems. Is it a constellation? Yes. Now I have it. The constellation of the Great Dragon. That must be it. And then there are... a few letters I don't quite understand."

The Wildshaper shifted his form. He looked at Lavender with bloodthirsty eyes.

"I've had enough of your stinking smell!"

He drooled and smacked his lips, transforming into an oversized war bear. The monster roared so loudly that it echoed far out into the icy North Chasm.

The walls trembled, the stone rolled from the secured mechanism, and Lavender ducked down instantly. He narrowly saved himself from the approaching hail of arrows. The elf could barely believe his eyes and simply started running. He ran like a madman straight towards the exit and heard the gigantic bear rushing after him.

"Damn it! I don't want to end up as dinner for a stinking loudmouth!"

Arriving at the end of the long corridor, the necromancer made a quick hand gesture and shot some bone fragments backward. They flew directly into the war bear's face. The elf jumped almost invisibly to the side and the flesh-craving bear snapped forward into thin air. He narrowly missed the elf, and since he couldn't slow down his speed quickly, he tumbled over and crashed with full force onto the ground.

Lavender seized the chance and grabbed his silver bone. He leaped into the air in one bound and dropped onto the bear like a graceful black eagle seizing its prey. The bone immediately served as a dagger. He stabbed like an assassin from the darkness, precise and deadly. He slit the bear's throat with a single cut and jumped back to the ground.

The war bear roared through half the North Chasm and transformed back into its humanoid form, which this time resembled an elf with dark blue skin.

"Tell me what you know, you dirty bastard! Argh.
I knew you could read it. Now speak!
Could my ancestors have been right?"

He spat blood and couldn't breathe. The cut was clean. And the Wildshaper had no time left. In the following seconds, he slowly but surely withered away like an icicle in the approaching warmth of spring. Drop by drop.

So it was over for him.

Lavender had found what he was looking for. He searched the deceased and put the ice-fire in his pocket. He prepared to make his return journey.

"Who's the fool now? Hmph. I must report this to my master in Thalázad immediately.
The new information changes everything. It's time to set off."

He was just about to leave when a thundering lance shot through the bright sky. It cracked so loudly that it froze the elf's marrow and blood. His gaze wandered skyward and he saw something gigantic illuminate the night sky.

An oversized beacon was to descend to earth that night, of which he himself did not yet know what it would mean for his destiny and that of the entire Star Realm.

• Continue in Chapter 3, coming soon to Zauberkram.de!