Deus Necros

“Oh, master, I’m just handling some sudden business,” he said. His voice had that particular clarity that comes when air is cold and the speaker is focused on more than conversation.

He seemed to be a bit more at ease from Van Dijk’s point of view, something about him like the air around him was different.

Van Dijk noticed that they were on a boat, in the desert, the boat itself seemed to be running quite fast for how small it was. Probably an illegal boat. The stars behind Ludwig were sharp and many. A line of red along the horizon said the night would be long.

“Explain why I had the imperial army come and search my place…” Van Dijk asked, though he probably figured out some possible reasons.

“Oh, well… how should I start?” Ludwig let a half breath stretch. Sand hissed somewhere close. A rope thudded in a loose cleat.

Ludwig told him everything that happened, about the deployment to the frontier, the order to meet with a higherup of the church regarding the use of demonic beings, the handing of the letter to Titania which he did in secret. And now the fact that he needed to take both the priestess of the moon and the guard back to their kingdom, and see what’s up with the Usurper that’s ruling the kingdom from the shadow instead of its rightful king. He did not embroider. He placed each fact flat on the table and moved to the next. The crystal carried the steady rhythm of someone who knew he would be judged on weight rather than noise.

Van Dijk soaked in the information as his brain seemed to be roiling with ideas, but finally he took a deep breath.

“You’re putting yourself at risk for no reason.” Van Dijk’s fingers tapped the crystal once. The tower’s light shifted against his cheekbones.

“The war will take a lot of lives,” Ludwig said. The words were simple. They sat between them like a loaded bowl.

“That’s news coming from someone who said he didn’t want to be a hero.” The dry humor had a small edge. Behind it there was a watchfulness. He listened for any tremor that would betray that Ludwig was lying to himself. He needed to make sure that his student wasn’t speaking simple words, but his words would become certainty and action.

“I’m not doing this to be a hero, master, I have my own reasons.” A shadow crossed Ludwig’s face and passed. Wind pulled a strand of someone’s hair into the edge of the frame and took it away again. He did not offer the reasons. He did not need to. Van Dijk knew their shape anyway.

Van Dijk thought for a second and said, “Fine, as long as you took down one of the Fanged Apostle’s companions, I can’t even complain. You did a good job, just stay safe.” He let the praise come first. It cost him nothing and bought him attention.

The words stay safe made Ludwig’s heart warm. For a heartbeat the night behind him felt less sharp. The deck under his feet felt more solid.

“I don’t want to lose my precious sample.”

And that one turned it cold as ice immediately. The air between word and ear grew brittle and honest again. Ludwig’s mouth thinned, then settled.

“Yes, master, don’t worry, I’m not the same as before…”

“I can see that…” Van Dijk said and hung up. The crystal dimmed in his hand and turned the color of old glass. He placed it on a little tray that hummed and discharged the last taste of desert air.

“That’s it? I didn’t get to talk to him,” Celine puffed her cheeks a bit. The gesture looked almost childish against the blood in her hair. It made the room feel stranger that a person could be both things at once.

Van Dijk couldn’t help but sigh, “You don’t have to worry about him right now… I don’t think you realize it… but he’s far stronger than when he left the tower… I don’t know how he’s doing it though…” He turned to the window. Dusk sat on the city like a cat. Lights pricked along the river. Somewhere a bell counted the hour without caring about people’s troubles.

“Oh, how strong did he get? I couldn’t tell form here.” She leaned a hip against the table and crossed her arms. Her boot heel traced a small circle in a scuff on the floor.

He looked at Celine, “Three exchanges with you if serious.” He let the sentence hang as if it weighed nothing.

“Oh, not bad, if he can handle three of my serious blows.” She smiled in a way that usually meant a spar would be fun.

“No, it’s the other way around… you won’t survive past three exchanges.” He did not soften the line. He watched the understanding land. It made a small sound in the room.

Celine couldn’t help but frown. Of course, she was far weaker than back in the day, but she wasn’t just someone that can be done in three blows… what did Ludwig do or eat to become that powerful so fast? Her fingers tightened on her own forearm until the skin whitened. Old calculation wheels started to turn again. Their teeth still fit.

“Seems like you’re overthinking things, you still have a lot of time before you recover so don’t worry about him outpacing you.” Van Dijk picked up a quill and set it down again. He did not like the word recover when it was applied to people he cared for. It made them sound like broken tools.

“No, I have to worry,” she sighed, “I guess I’ll have to visit an old relative of ours…” She did not say the name. The tower lights seemed to lean away a fraction, as if not wanting to hear it.

“You’re not thinking of meeting ’Him?’.” His voice dropped a step.

“What choice do I have, I already feel like something big is brewing, and I’m not strong enough, it’ll take centuries to go back to where I was…” She looked at her hands. The blood had dried in the webbing between thumb and forefinger. A small cut there stung as if agreeing.

“That’s suicide, we both know if you go there you’ll die. Even I couldn’t make it, and if it wasn’t for my proficiency in magic, I’d be a splatter on the wall.” He did not embellish the memory.

“We’re not the same, brother… I may not beat you when it comes to a direct fight right now. But I did kill a couple ninth circle mages back in my day.” The words were not brag. They were a ledger entry. Ink dried, amount fixed.

“That is not the same…” He stepped closer to the window. The dusk had thickened into early night. The tower’s shadow lay across the street like a long blade.

“Well, He will have to decide then…” Her eyes had gone calm. Not the calm of someone who wished to die. The other calm. The one that comes when a person chooses a road with all its costs and stops looking for different maps. The tower listened. Somewhere below a ward stirred and then slept again, as if a very old animal had turned over in its den.