This story includes descriptions of blood and rotting flesh and tortured souls as well as physical pain.
Morgana stood in the catacombs, both hands on top of a stone coffin, her head was bowed, her long dark hood covering her pale and cracked face. Years of magic had not been kind to her but she was determined to accomplish her goals before the dark magic circulating through her veins killed her first. The body before her was less of a body and more of a skeleton, the bits of rotting grey flesh still clinging to its ribcage and face the only indication it had once been alive, a spider crawled out from the eye socket and she paid it no mind as it scurried down the side of the cold stone and disappeared into the dark room. She raised her head, pale blue eyes glowing in the darkness as she reached into her robe and pulled out a thick leather-bound book.
Her black-stained fingers traced over the cover almost reverently before she opened it, sending up a cloud of dust that made her wrinkle her nose. The pages were yellowed with age and contained descriptions of blood sacrifice, worship to the old gods, blood magic spells, and guides on how to communicate with the dead. Not that she needed the last one, clairvoyance was something she had dealt with since she was a child. She flipped the pages to a well-known spell, one she had used many times, the only problem with it was that it was short. The bodies she raised would only last as long as they were connected to her and her magic, which would only be a few hours to a day at best. She now knew how to alter it, to give her a more permanent body.
She reached up and tore off the necklace dangling just above her chest, at the end of the chain was some sort of cheap crystal or tumbled glass that she had bought at a market in Katolis. She held it in front of her, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "Animare," she whispered into the cold air. She felt the familiar tingling sensation in her fingers as tendrils of magic seeped from her body and into the crystal, blood pooled from her nostrils as she shoved it into the skeleton's ribcage where it shook violently and tried to latch on using the dark tendrils still sticking out of the surface of the crystal. Her vision was swimming now, and she could hear spirits whispering and screaming at her in a garbled mess. She grabbed at her head and fell backward to the floor, coughing up an oozing black mass that dripped from her lips.
Her vision darkened even more at the edges and she let out one more staggering cough before she drifted away into nothing. When she woke up again she was damp and the sharp metallic smell of blood assaulted her senses. She sat up slowly, reaching up to wipe off the front of her face with her hand where she felt something smear, most likely her face paint or blood, maybe both. She stumbled forward when she managed to stand and was dimly aware of a stinging sensation at the back of her skull. Problems for later, she needed to see if her altered spell had worked.
The skeleton laid dormant, the only indication of the spell being the crystal floating where its heart would have been if it still had organs. It glowed a dim grey and when she reached out to touch it it was solid and didn't move. "Come on now..." She said to the skeleton "Rise." The skeleton said nothing, obviously, and she waited for even the barest indication of movement. Nothing came, it just stared up at her with its mocking perpetual grin. She turned away from it and kicked at a rock, sending it clattering down the way she came. Why didn't it work? Was the skeleton too far gone for it to take? Was it her? Was she not strong enough? The spell had always worked before, was it simply not meant to be altered? She sighed, going to retrieve her lost book, which she had dropped on the floor when she passed out. She traced the cover once more before putting it back into the pocket of her robe. If her mentor could see her now he would disappointed, he had been the one to tell her to experiment with her gift, not many humans had the right constitution for necromancy.
Feeling downtrodden, and a little achy, she walked to the entrance of the room, picked up her sword, and returned it to its place on her back. As she went to leave she became aware of a rattling sound from behind her, and she turned to see the skeleton sitting up slowly. She gasped as it turned its skull towards her and reached out, only to fall on the floor and break into pieces. She made her way to it quickly, watching as the pieces began to reform. When it had fixed itself it looked at her with its empty eyesockets and reached out with a skeletal hand. She took it, a rare fleeting smile crossing her face. Finally, a worthy assistant.
The skeleton followed her out of the catacombs willingly, walking at her heels as she led the way down twisting passages past walls of skulls and other bones. She had to find a lantern to light their way instead of using a fire spell, she was too tired for more complicated magic at the moment, and they quickly emerged at the edge of the city where her dragon was waiting for her. He had black scales and bonelike spikes that ran down his back, spikes that raised when he saw her new companion. His teeth bared and he growled, tendrils of smoke rising from his nostrils. "Calm yourself Crypt, she said to him while she went to open her saddle bag, "This is a friend."
The dragon growled again but allowed the skeleton to approach, eyeing it distrustfully with his gleaming golden eyes. She pulled out a rope from the bag, beckoning the skeleton forward before tying it to her waist, the last thing she needed was for it to blow away mid-flight. She climbed onto the saddle, reaching out to put a hand on Crypt's neck, "Home." The dragon launched itself into the sky, slowly becoming nothing more than a black silhouette on the stars.
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