The Necromancer - Part 2

Kara stood before the large double-doors of the cathedral, wiping her palms upon her shirt for the millionth time. From up high on the roof it had not seemed quite so imposing. Now, standing before it, she felt tiny and insignificant. She felt unworthy to even approach those who resided within; not so much the people as the Angels. They were as much a thing of legend to her people as the Necromancer was. Perhaps even more-so. Certainly with less dark undertones.
Standing beside her, she could see both the Necromancer and the Succubus. The later was dressed in even more garish clothing than her master. He had been right, though. They had indeed found racks and racks of clothing inside one of the buildings. Rotted beyond recognition most of them, but still there. The Succubus had been the one to finally choose the outfit she now wore. It had caused the Necromancer to laugh out loud when he first saw it. The sound had made Kara smile. It was a warm, full sound. It was also the first truly human emotion she had seen him ever express. When asked what had been so funny, all he would say was that the Succubus would look like 'every man's wet dream'. Apparently some reference to the fantasies of the men from the time before the Apocalypse.
Looking at the outfit now, Kara could not see how any man would fantasize about it. It consisted of little more than a short skirt in a riot of ugly plaid colors and a plain white shirt. Nothing about it spoke of sensuality to her. The Necromancer had called it a 'school-girl uniform'; smiling the entire time.
The restoration of its rotted form into something wearable had been miraculous. The Necromancer had simply extended his hands out over the cloth, closed his eyes, and then brushed his fingers across it. Wherever he touched the cloth, it seemed to de-age. As if he were rolling back the effects of time upon it. His words, afterwards, continued to play back in Kara's mind. All things have a life-force to them. Most are too faint to touch, except by the truly powerful. All I did was reinvigorate that life-force. It was a concept she had never really given much thought; one that seemed to please her for some reason. To think that all things were in some way alive, and thus connected.
Either way, the effort had cost the Necromancer greatly. All the strength he had seemed to gain from the death of the demons had left him. When Kara touched him now the electric tingle was just a hint of sensation. The aura of power that he had worn like a cloak before was now barely a whisper. Even his eyes had turned a duller shade of blue. As powerful as he was, it obviously had its limits. Kara was definitely relieved by the effect. It made him seem far more ordinary. It also limited the trouble he would be able to cause within. If they could even get in.
Taking a deep breath, Kara grabbed a hold of the large door knockers and banged them against the solid wood. The sound was a heavy bass thud. She could hear it echo within the cathedral in clear tones. When it finally subsided, an oppressive silence was the only answer she received. It seemed to last forever as she stood in front of those massive doors. All that she could hear in that silence was her own rapid heartbeat; growing quicker as her anxiety mounted.
When no answer came, Kara turned around to stare at the Necromancer, her distress obvious upon her face. All of her fears came rushing back to her; that they would not let her in, that she would be judged unworthy, that she would fail her people and leave them to die. The weight of it all suddenly felt too heavy. Her breath started catching in her throat, making her lungs feel like they were filled with lead. The Necromancer simply looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"You did not actually expect them to answer that, did you? Perhaps put out a doormat that reads 'mi casa es su casa'?"
Suddenly, everything she had been through lately seemed like too much to her. She had spent weeks alone out in the wastes; hiding from demons, expecting the entire time to be caught and killed. She had run across hundreds of miles just for the glimmer of hope that she could somehow save her people. She had allied herself with a man that she was both drawn too and deeply afraid of; feeling as if she was loosing pieces of her morality every moment she was with him. She had been ripped, clawed, and choked - all so the very ones she had come to see could simply refuse to answer the door. It was all just too much.
When the tears started to form in the corners of Kara's eyes, she did not try to hold them back. She simply let them go. Before the first one had even made it down her face, though, she could feel the Succubus's arms wrapped around her. Warm, wet lips pressed against her forehead softly. The affection helped, even if Kara did not believe it was genuine. She took a minute to lean into those arms, and let the tears fall. She did not openly sob, but she certainly felt like it. It took her a long moment to regain her composure, but she finally did. Accepting a lick on the lips from the demoness when she lifted her head up, Kara wiped the few remaining tears in her eyes away and turned towards the Necromancer again.
"Do something."
"What would you have me do? Suck the life-force from the door and turn it to dust? Force the walls to crumble in upon themselves, perhaps?" With each sentence, the Necromancer took a step towards her. The motion did not seem so much threatening as condescending. Either way, Kara could feel her overwhelming depression leaving to be replaced with a growing anger for the man. "Raise the dead around us and storm the cathedral? Or perhaps just possess the door guard and have him open it? Maybe I can have the Succubus just fly you up through a window. Come now, min aenlic. You know as well as I do that all of that would do more harm than good."
"There must be something you can do!" The Necromancer was already shaking his head before Kara had even finished her sentence.
"There is nothing I can do. But you..."
"Me? What can I do?"
"For one you can stop letting them cower you. You can stop acting like you need to beg for their attention. You say you are the daughter of your people's Chief. You say you are a great fighter." The man stood right before her now, his warm breath tickling the hairs upon her face. Kara was torn between wanting to hit him and wanting to fall into his arms, begging him to hold her; which only pissed her off more. "You say they sent you; you, out of all of your conclave's warriors; because you had the best chance of success. Hah! I say you are nothing more than a little girl playing in a dangerous world, crying to me every time something too frightening bumps you in the night."
"I am my father's daughter! A far better man than you have ever been. I was sent because no one else could make it. And I will be damned if I let you or anyone else treat me in such a way!"
"Then act like it!" The two of them were barely an inch away now. Kara trembled slightly as she gripped her hands into fists. All she wanted to do was alternate between hitting him and nibbling on his lips. She fought both urges with everything she had. Suddenly his blue eyes softened and that familiar mirthful smile returned to his face. "Like I know you can. Be who you are, and stop taking 'no' as an answer. Those in there are not deserving of your company... not the other way around."
The Necromancer ran the back of his hand lightly across her cheek and down her neck before stepping back. The action drained every last bit of anger from Kara's body. She realized then that he had been baiting her the entire time. He had been forcing her to come out of her anxiety and self-pity. He had also been right. She was no longer so enraged by the man, but she definitely still felt like hitting him.
"You bastard."
"And so much more, min aenlic. So very much more."
"If knocking didn't work, then what?"
"Try talking to them. They will definitely hear you." The Necromancer turned to look at the doors. His mirthful smile turned into a disdainful smirk; as if he found something both amusing and distasteful at the same time. "More than half of them are huddled behind that door waiting to see what happens next. I imagine they are more than a little curious as to what happened to all of the demons. Who, by the way, will come swarming back any minute now."
"Any suggestions on what to say?"
The Necromancer stayed looking at the cathedral for a long moment. All traces of humor had left his face, and in its place he wore a mask of seriousness. Finally when he spoke it was with a cold tone, the sound of it raising the hairs on the back of Kara's neck. "Speak of numbers. Numbers are the currency of the realm, so speak of that. Tell them how many people reside in your conclave, and you will receive your answer. Not from the humans within, for they care not about your numbers. In fact, it will only scare them. But, it was never the humans you came here to speak to, now was it? So... speak of numbers."
Kara moved to stand before the large double doors once again. This time they did not seem quite as imposing, but that feeling of unworthiness stayed with her. No matter what the Necromancer said, she still felt like an imposter here. She would not let it cower her, though. Too much and too many people depended on her. With as loud and clear of a voice as she could muster, Kara called out to those within the cathedral.
"Hello to the people and protectors of St. Peter's Haven. I am Kara; daughter to the Chief of the people of Shelter 26. I have come to speak to your leaders. I have come to speak of a merger between your conclave and my own. I have come demanding entrance."
The speech sounded bolder than Kara truly felt, but it received an approving nod from the Necromancer. As the seconds passed with no answer, she once again began to feel the effects of anxiety. The only thing that stopped her from banging on the doors and begging to be let in was the calm pose of the man beside her. She had trusted him with her life before. Now, she was trusting him with the lives of her people.
"How many?" The reply was faint and distorted from behind the thick doors, but still audible. Kara had not realized she was holding her breath until she finally let it out, the anxiety draining out of her. For a moment, the question made no sense to her until she finally remembered the Necromancer's earlier words.
"Two-hundred. We have over two-hundred. All fit and strong." Kara knew she sounded anxious, but it was something she could not help. At the start of her journey, she had never really expected to reach her goal. Now, she was almost there.
Minutes passed with no more reply. After awhile, Kara began to wonder if she had said something wrong. Perhaps she should have given them an exact count of her people, or been more humble in her speech. The Necromancer simply stood there as calm as ever. She knew he could sense the life within the cathedral along with their movements, but if he had gleaned any idea of their actions he was remaining frustratingly quiet about it. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the large doors made a painful groaning sound before slowly swinging open.
Kara's heart felt as if it had skipped a beat as she stared into the dark interior of the cathedral. The only light that seemed to illuminate the inside was the faint, flickering glow of candles. The air that wafted out was old and stale, smelling like moldy paper. Even the sounds from within seemed dim and subdued. Despite all of that, Kara could not help but smile. She had finally made it, and her people would be safe because of it.
Huddled just inside the cathedral entrance; as if they still half expected a rush of demons that were no longer there; were a mass of at least a hundred people. They were of no particular age or sex. Each wore a set of clothing made of the same simple brown cloth; which made it difficult to discern one from the other. Even the expressions upon their faces were the same; fear. It was not the look she had expected to see upon the faces of a people who lived under the protection of Angels. The vision struck a chord deep inside of Kara, and for a moment she found herself afraid as well. Afraid of something she could not quite put her finger upon.
Both sides stood frozen across from each other; the people in the cathedral staring at Kara and her group as curiously as she stared back. Several moments passed by before anyone dared move. In the end, it was the Necromancer who broke the spell by simply strolling up the steps and through the doors. The people huddled within parted before him like water. Kara doubted they were even conscious of doing it; simple herd instinct making them move away from the large predator in their midst. The gentle caress along her back as the Succubus followed her master finally prompted Kara to move as well.
Once inside the cathedral, the doors were quickly shut and locked. Kara noted with interest that the lock was a weak metal latch. Had the demons outside truly wished, they could have broken it and entered the cathedral at any time. Despite everything else she had seen, that one fact gave her hope that she truly could save her people. With eager steps, she quickly caught up to the Necromancer.
All around her she could see frightened eyes staring back. Kara realized that she was very likely the first person these people had ever seen come from the outside of the cathedral. In these times it was an unheard of thing for a human to move from one conclave to another. The demons roamed the land freely, and one never really knew if the other conclaves still stood. To them, she was as alien as the Angels were to her. She knew much depended upon first impressions. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she stopped in the middle of the growing crowd.
"Hello to you all. My name is Kara, and I am pleased to be here. Thank you for having me, and God bless." Her voice carried easily through the large entrance chamber where she stood, echoing deep within the cathedral. With pleasure, Kara noted a few of the faces surrounding her ease a bit. The words had somehow seemed false, like play-acting, but they had still solicited the desired effect. If those gathered were not exactly friendly, they were no longer openly terrified. "I have come a long way to see you all. I am so very pleased to see the conclave still stands."
"It still stands by the grace of our saviors, the Angels. Without them, we would be doomed to the perdition our brothers and sisters outside have endured." The man that stepped forward from the crowd was easily older than any other Kara had ever seen. With silver-gray hair and wrinkles that covered every inch of his skin, he was easily over sixty years. He was also; from the bowed heads of those around him; obviously a leader of some sort. "As you and yours have surely endured, Sister Kara."
"We have endured, sir, as well as we could and for as long as we could. But it seems as if we lose another every week to the demons."
"Call me Father Sermon, my child." The old man extended out his hand to Kara, and for a moment she was unsure what to do with it. Finally, she remembered the archaic form of greeting once favored by the clergy, and bent low to kiss his hand. It was a form of greeting she had not seen since she was a child; since her own conclave's priest had been seduced and then killed by an incubus. "And those who you have lost, though poor souls, must surely have been impure. For only those who are not true believers are in danger from the devils outside."
"Then... father... this cathedral must hold hundreds of impure souls to require locks on the doors and the guardianship of Angels." Kara closed her mouth with an audible 'clack', cutting short the words she had been about to say; the Necromancer's own harsh words draining the color from her face. She had known the man would likely cause trouble once inside, she had just not known how much. Even as the color drained from her face, she could easily see it rising in the priest's. His cheeks had turned a scarlet red, the veins around his neck becoming evident. All Kara could do was stare blankly, attempting to grasp for something to say that would smooth everything back out again.
"That borders on blasphemy, my son! This is a holy house, and no one not of pure spirit could stand to be in the presence of such piety as our Lordships, the Angels." Out of pure reflex, both Kara and the Necromancer turned to look at the Succubus at Father Sermon's words. The latter was leaning idly against a stone column in just the right way to accentuate all of the right parts of her body. Kara had no doubt that the Succubus knew exactly what effect she was having on the men gathered around them, and was doing it specifically for that reason.
"It only borders on blasphemy? Really? I apologize, father. I will try harder next time." With that, the Necromancer bent down and kissed the priest's hand. Kara knew the Necromancer meant it as an insult, but the act seemed to mollify Father Sermon some. The double meaning of the Necromancer's words also seemed lost on the old man, for the kindly smile once again returned to his face.
"It's okay, my son. Even the true believers stray but a little from time to time. That is the reason for the locks. We must protect our flock from themselves; or else they would jeopardize their pure souls." Father Sermon put his hand upon the Necromancer's back as he spoke, and began to lead the man further into the cathedral. With a start, Kara suddenly found herself being left behind as the two men walked on. A bit of indignation rose up within her that she would be so quickly dismissed, her hands balling into fists at her side.
"Oh, my. You mean they would attempt to think for themselves, and act upon those thoughts? What folly." Once again, the insult hidden behind the Necromancer's words seemed to go unnoticed by Father Sermon. The old man, in fact, smiled even brighter at the Necromancer's apparent understanding of the situation. For a moment, Kara had an irresistible urge to explain to the priest just exactly who he was speaking too, if for no other reason than to see that smug smile wiped from his face. She fought the urge down quickly, though.
"Now, my son, you say your conclave wishes a merger with our St. Peter's Haven?"
"You speak to the wrong child, father. It is not my conclave, they are not my people, and a merger... let us just say it is not something to be very likely in my future." The Necromancer had stopped by this point, forcing Father Sermon to halt as well. Turning to face Kara, he bent into a deep, flourishing bow towards her. The display was purely for show, she knew, but it made her no less grateful to the man. As much trouble as the Necromancer could be, there were even more redeeming qualities about him. "The one you need speak to is Lady Kara. She alone holds the right to discuss a merger with her people. She is her father's daughter, after all. By all accounts, a greater man than I."
"Ah, well. Then... uhm... Lady Kara please follow me. There is much we will need to talk about before your meeting with our Lordships." As Father Sermon led her further into the cathedral, Kara stopped for a moment beside the Necromancer. Placing a hand upon his chest; she could still feel that electric tingle reaching out to her; she leaned closer to whisper into his ear.
"Thank you. For everything."
"Save your thanks, min aenlic. When and if this all turns out well, then thank me. Besides, I have not done anything I did not already promise to do."
"Thank you, anyway." With that, Kara walked on further into the cathedral following Father Sermon, presumably to some room reserved for discussions. She managed to get one last look at the Necromancer and the Succubus, the two of them slowly being surrounded by the people of the cathedral. She knew better than to worry about them; she doubted very seriously that anything inside the cathedral, angels included, posed any true threat to them; but she could not help feeling a sense of loss at being separated. It was not a feeling she liked admitting too. All of her upbringing told her that she should feel relieved to have escaped the man and his demoness, but a very real part of her no longer wanted to escape. Too much for her had changed; too many things did she see differently than before.
Mentally strengthening her resolve, Kara forced herself to look forward. Soon, she would secure the merger, and insure the safety of her people. No matter what she felt, she knew the Necromancer would have no place in that future. Not only would the Angels be unwilling to accept him or the Succubus, but he would not be willing to accept the Angels. Reminding herself that it was over between her and the man, she forced herself to concentrate on following Father Sermon. All that really counted was the merger.