Rherdir walked closer, drawing his long sharp knife from his belt, putting a bag on the ground near Silvy. Zatha, still restraining Silvy, shifted from above her and lifted her shirt, giving Rherdir access to her bare back. His dagger moved closer, ready to carve into Silvy’s flesh.

Do you wish to be saved?

The sweet voice of the core reached Silvy’s mind, waking her up from the trance. It flushed out her fear, clearing her mind. Her head turned to her assailant, the knife cutting into her lower back.

That rune will destroy us. Leave yourself to me, Silvy. I will save us if you surrender. Surrender to ME!

Surrender? Maybe she should… No. Rage bellowed from deep inside her. They thought she was just a toy to play with?! The governor, this mage, The Brothel, maybe even Lindrl. Her mind flared up. She was not a toy: she would not surrender to them, to the core, to anyone! She would tear them apart, hunt them down-

EAT THEM. YES. Come to me!

A squared chunk of skin was skillfully cut from Silvy, exposing the red flesh below, blood seeping out from the wound. Rherdir opened his bag, the content floating out and moving inside Silvy’s wound.

Euphoria filled the core, but Silvy was furious. Surrendering was not an option! Her mana shot forth, grasping the core tightly; it would bend to her will, or be crushed and die with her. A silent battle between a human and a core took place, a battle for supremacy, for the control of this body, fought with pure mana and not with swords or words.

Gray powder was slowly depositing into the wound, skillfully creating a complex rune, Silvy’s thrashing blocked by Zatha’s iron grip.

Feeling the powder landing on her body, she reacted on instinct, doing what every undead always does: eat. Not with her mouth, as everyone expected, but with her body, just like she had absorbed the Treant core. After all, magical powder was the perfect meal for a mana hungry undead.

Rherdir and his companions watched in horror as the powder seemingly seeped into Silvy’s body, absorbed by her flesh. Explosive powder was expensive, and watching it disappear was certainly painful, but that was not the reason the group was wide-eyed. Rherdir was a skilled mage, and letting the powder move freely, uncontrolled by his mana, was not a mistake he would do, especially in this situation. Something else was happening, and Rherdir was the only one able to feel that the powder was not merely dripping inside her body, but disappearing into nothingness.

The boost of mana Silvy acquired was instantly put to use against the core, crushing its resistance. Activating the whole power for the first time using her own means, Silvy felt her mind fuse with the undead core. Its knowledge, memory, and consciousness laid bare in front of her, to be used as she saw fit, its intelligence and mind following her orders before she even formulated them. Two minds working in unison quickly found a solution to her situation, acting it out a moment later.

Her legs stretched on the ground twisted back to front, cracking her bones and tearing her flesh. Bending her knees, now turned towards her back, she launched herself into the air with her full strength, cracking her bones and rupturing her muscles even further. Zatha, surprised by the sudden movement and distracted by the blood spraying out from Silvy’s leg, was hit in the head by Silvy’s back, losing her grip and falling to the ground.

Silvy somersaulted, her legs snapping back in position mid-air, gracefully landing facing the open-mouthed governor and mage. Zatha was the first to act, rushing at full speed towards Silvy, trying to restrain her again. Silvy ignored the rushing woman, crouching down and pushing her legs’ mangled muscles beyond their limits, shooting forward like an arrow and soaring towards Rherdir, the carpet tearing under her feet from the sudden push but leaving the stone below intact. Silvy’s figure zoomed near Zatha, unable to stop her, her right shoulder slamming and crushing into the mage’s chest with full force. His body folded in half, bones snapping noise reverberating through the throne room, blood and vomit spurting from his mouth, the bacon he had for breakfast visible in the bile. Both bodies kept moving after the impact, Silvy rolling twice before standing up and Rherdir crashing against the ground and rolling up to the steps leading to the throne, unconscious.

Silvy’s legs were missing flesh and their bones were cracked, just like her spine and right shoulder, but that couldn’t stop her. These wounds wouldn’t stop a simple, brainless undead, and Silvy was a sapient one.

Zatha rushed forward, stepping between Silvy and the governor. Her invisibility cloak still hid her, but Silvy could pierce through it enough to know where she was, what she was doing. Silvy crouched again, her muscles snapping and falling off, blood spraying out of her legs, and jumped above Zatha’s reach behind the governor, picking up her sword and facing her opponent again, who had moved between Silvy and the governor once more.

Padrik, who had fallen on his butt during Silvy’s latest struggle, awakened and stood up, running and dragging away the unconscious and wounded mage, aiming for the safety of a side door and the guards beyond.

Silvy didn’t wait, attacking Zatha with more ferocity, strength, and speed she had used before, straining her body beyond its limit. Every swing, a new tear in her skin, every block, a crack in her bones, every parry and dodge, a muscle snapping, and every move a spray of blood.

Her body was moving beyond what it could normally do, but Zatha was still faster, stronger. They danced with each other like nobles in a ballroom, their sword clashing the tempo of their dance, blood splashing the cheering of the invisible guests.

Zatha was faster in body, but Silvy was faster in mind. Where Zatha reacted to Silvy’s strikes using her superior speed, Silvy anticipated her opponent’s using her subtle movements, predicting every swing and feint from the shadow’s every motion.

The room was slowly painted red by Silvy’s blood, her body slowly collapsing under the stress, not a single wound on Zatha. Each strike was a thunderous blast booming across the room, Silvy’s sword creaking after every hit, their silent movements across the room the silence before the storm. No scream preceded their strike, no word used to see reason, not a plea to stop the fight. The two women fought in complete silence and would stop only at the death of one of them.

Guards, weapons drawn and fully armored, rushed in from the side door the governor had gone through, encircling the two women. The fight was too quick-paced, too visceral to intervene. They stared at the child covered in blood, fighting against an invisible enemy barbarically and with reckless abandon. Each time she swung her weapon, a flash of light would appear for a moment, followed by a thunderous boom deafening the powerless guards, who had little choice but to wait for reinforcement, keeping the damage at minimum until then.

Silvy’s body was barely recognizable, and only the bloody clothes covering her form and the high speed of her movement were fooling the guards in thinking she was human. Blood had stopped spraying around, not because her wounds weren’t worsening, but because there was no more of it; her skin, the remaining parts at least, now wrinkled and pale white, a far cry from the flawless one she had before; her bones cracked in many spots, and only a miracle was keeping them from fracturing and breaking off completely; her muscles and flesh, those still attached, once well-shaped and under her skin, were now flailing around with each movement, threatening to fly off, something that had already happened more than once, judging from the various pieces littering the floor.

Hit after hit, her body bent but didn’t break; her sword gave up first, already bent at its limit after all the abuse. The strike snapped the sword in half, the upper piece twirling towards a watching guard, quick enough to lift his arms and protect his face, the metal clinking harmlessly against his vambrace. Silvy ducked and rolled forward using the momentum of her strike, barely dodging Zatha’s attack and facing her again.

The core screamed in Silvy’s head to fight, not retreat: undeads never retreated, never surrendered. But Silvy was in control, not the core.

She threw the now useless sword at Zatha and jumped backward, colliding with a guard, surprising him, her back against his chest. Her right elbow shot up, hitting his unarmored chin, a groan following the hit, and at the same time, her left hand grasped his right hand, turning his hand palm down and trying to pry his finger off the sword. Right elbow now shooting down on his wrist, his hand jerked enough to make him lose his grip, helped by Silvy’s left hand. Her right hand reached down, grasping the new sword, hurriedly blocking Zatha’s strike. Both Silvy and the guard were pushed backward, losing their footing and falling, Silvy quickly rolling forward and dodging a strike that hit the guard’s chest plate, denting his armor, the guard shouting in fear.

The dance between the two women restarted but was quickly disturbed by another shadow, this one making his way halfway up a nearby pillar, throwing a dagger at Silvy, easily dodged. More daggers rained down, removing any hope of dodging them without getting hit by Zatha. Choosing the lesser evil, Silvy moved around so that the daggers would hit her torso, nullifying any possible repercussion.

“She’s undead! Your poison is useless!” Zatha screamed between two hits, risking a deadly wound because of her distraction.

The second shadow visibly hesitated before climbing down the pillar and moving to join the fight. It was at this moment that an overbearing female voice boomed throughout the room, overshadowing the sword’s bangs: Lindrl.

“STOP AT ONCE.”

The guards between the archmage and Silvy were tossed out of the way, clearing a path towards the battle. Zatha and the other shadow stepped away from Silvy, who in turn kept going, trying to finish off that hateful woman, without success.

“[Air toss].” came the voice from Silvy’s right, a blast of air hitting her body and hurling her back. The same force hit Zatha, separating the two women, Silvy rolling once before standing up and Zatha simply and gracefully landing on her feet.

Lindrl grandly marched forward, face red with anger, Gorvan behind her, scowling and staring at Silvy, just like the rest of the room.

The child Silvy once was had disappeared during the fight, morphing into an unmistakable undead. Her clothes torn and dripping blood, slowly expanding the puddle at her feet. Pieces of human flesh littered the room, the carpet around the fight soaked in blood, the unmistakable smell impregnating the air. The remains of her clothes hung loosely on her frame, now missing most of the meat. Her skin was pale and withered, her sunken eyes wearily scanning the room.

The guards could now see her clearly, and gasps were heard all around, many inadvertently taking a step back and whispering under their breath.

“That’s an undead!”

“What’s an undead doing here?”

“Did you see how she fought?”

Lindrl, heavily breathing and red-faced, half-screamed half-ordered. “Where is the governor?! Bring him here! NOW!”

Half a dozen guards ran for the door, following her order without as much as a peep, the remaining guards fearfully looking at Silvy. Lindrl was staring at the door the governor had gone through and Gorvan was studying Silvy, more fascinated than scared. Silvy was glaring at Zatha, who, as much as she could tell, was glaring back at her, until the governor came back, unharmed but disheveled.

He furiously spoke as soon as he entered the room. “Archmage Mizhal! Your apprentice has attacked unprovoked, in broad daylight, and killed my court mage! This is high treason! I hereby sentence you to death! [Archmage] Vroantu, arrest these two criminals!”

Gorvan Vroantu stare went from the governor to Lindrl, speaking with a calm and impassive voice. “Lindrl, care to tell me what’s going on? Why do you have an undead as an apprentice? No, before that, why is an undead sapient?”

The whole room sucked in their breath. An [Archmage] had identified this undead as sapient, confirming everyone’s suspicions. This monster was sapient; she could talk, act and speak like a human, like them. Was she the only one? If not, how many were there? How could they fight something like that?! There were only a handful of monsters a commoner could fight one on one, and not without risk. Undeads were pretty much at the bottom of the food chain if they were alone, but armies were needed to eliminate hordes. If monsters, who already had a physical or magical advantage over every other sapient species, became as smart as them, extinction was a real possibility. How could they cope with something faster, stronger, more durable and as smart as them?!

“She’s their experiment.” Lindrl answered, calming down.

“She created this monster!” the governor spurted at the same time, his royal conduct already forgotten.

The two stared at each other, ready to jump at their throats. Gorvan turned to the governor.

“Silence. I’m asking [Archmage] Lindrl. I’ll listen to your side of the story afterward. Please speak, Lindrl.”

Lindrl took a deep breath before starting. “Do you remember how I told you and Kal about her when she came into the guild? I made some inquiries and discovered she was just an orphan. People barely knew her name: she was no one. So, I asked myself how can someone like her become so... interesting in a couple of weeks. It made no sense, so I reached out to her the next time she came into our guild. She trusted me and told me about her story, how a brothel had kidnapped her and when she had woken up, left to die in the forest east of here, she was like this. Why would anyone do something like this, Gorvan?”

Gorvan answered half a second later, unfazed. “To create a stronger race. And undead… they are the closest monster to the sapient races, created using our fallen.”

Lindrl continued a bit too enthusiastically. “Exactly! But no matter what I did, my spies couldn’t find anything about this brothel. Either Silvy had lied, which didn’t make much sense, or someone was covering this facility, even from me. Who has enough power to do that?”

Gorvan followed her reasoning, responding a few seconds later. “The government. The noble families, maybe. The guilds working all together? But I doubt it. And you think the governor had a hand in this… creation? Why not one of the noble families?”

Lindrl shook her head, defeated. “I don’t know if the governor is involved: I have no proof, unfortunately.”

Silvy interrupted the exchange, speaking with a rough and crooked voice, one someone would expect from a corpse, not from a child. “He told me he did it. That’s why I attacked him.”

Gorvan turned to Silvy, the governor speaking up before him. “Lies! Gorvan, she’s a half-elf! You can’t trust elves! She attacked me because she’s here to finish the job her filthy race started! To kill me!”

Lindrl worriedly watched Gorvan, who slowly turned to the governor, his face badly suppressing his anger, his hate. “I know what she is. But why kidnapping her? Why didn’t she attack together with the other elves?”

“I-I don’t know.” the governor answered, his voice staggering a little. “Maybe she couldn’t pick the right moment! When she came here and was left alone, she acted. Luckily, my shadow stopped her.”

Gorvan shook his head, unconvinced. “Both of your stories have holes. If you want to create a superior race, why discard a functioning specimen? If she wanted you dead, why did she wait until now, and why was she fighting the shadow instead of aiming for you?”

Gorvan silently pondered the facts, staring at Silvy. The people in the room awaited his next words, hoping they would shed some light on this mystery and pass judgment on this monster.

The governor held his breath, frustrated. Why had those idiots abandoned a functioning specimen in the forest indeed! He’d have to punish them- oh right, they were dead. Another problem to solve in the ever-increasing pile of sh-.

“Kal is involved.” Lindrl spoke, shattering the silence.

“Indeed.” Gorvan answered. “Undeads... Immortality? Was he looking for that? I wonder.”

“Most likely.” Lindrl answered, nodding.

Silvy, from the start of this conversation, wanted nothing more than to scream that the governor was guilty, that he was lying. But she had refrained, deciding silence was a better choice because speaking out of place might ruin her chance. The core and her whole state still active had helped her maintain the calm, its patience used to the limit: now was the time.

“The governor confessed in front of me. That woman,” Silvy said, more calmly than she was feeling, pointing at the shadow to the side. “Subdued me, with the court mage trying to inscribe an explosive rune on my body, saying that they’d be able to see and hear through me, and they’d kill me if I didn’t obey. They failed.”

“Inscribe a rune on you? Where’s the powder? And how did they fail?” Gorvan asked, curious.

“She’s lying: I did nothing of the sort.” the governor calmly spoke, interrupting Silvy’s answer.

“I subdue her because she attacked the governor unprovoked, but there was no rune involved.” Zatha said, supporting the governor.

Silvy gritted her teeth. Liars! “I absorbed the powder, the same way undead absorb other creatures. The powder is gone, and that’s why they failed.” Silvy said, each of her words dripping venom.

“In short, you have no proof.” the governor said smugly.

“Not necessarily.” Lindrl claimed. “Traces of powder might be on the ground, or her clothes; you just need to know how to search for them. Gorvan?” Lindrl asked, looking over him. Gorvan nodded, and Lindrl cast a spell right after.

Her eyes scanned the room, sometimes stopping in a specific spot, specks of powder lifting from there. She scanned Silvy and Zatha as well, resulting in more powder adding to the small pile.

Gorvan closely studied the powder, speaking after a few minutes. “Yes, this is explosive powder. It doesn’t prove for certain that what you said is true, but it’s a point in your favor.”

The governor spoke up after that, a bit distressed. “Maybe my mage dropped it in the past! How do we know it’s of today?”

“We don’t know,” Gorvan answered. “That’s why I said it’s uncertain.”

Silvy spoke up again, scolding herself for not having thought about this before. “Can’t we use the same magic the mage tried on me? They called it mind magic, almost making me do something I did not wish to. Or maybe the truth tablets; they can discern truth from lies, don’t they?”

The governor’s face became red after this suggestion, Gorvan waving at her. “They used mind magic against an undead? Fools. We can’t use mind magic on him, for practical and political reasons. One, the spell used on you, suggestion, only helps you accept something you were already considering, and it’s most effective against unaware targets: that means it wouldn’t work in this situation. Moreover, mind magic is prohibited against nobles, the act considered treason. Truth tablets, on the other hand, are easily tricked, as they check the aura of the user to see if they are lying. They are useful against the common folks, but powerful people can hide their aura or manipulate it. Nobles are taught from a young age to do both of those things.”

Silvy deflated a bit, unsure how to proceed. Her whole state had ended, the world becoming harder to comprehend again.

“Very well,” Gorvan said, clapping his hands once, his voice audible throughout the room. “I will personally contact the king, informing him of the situation, and we’ll await his response. In the meantime, I’ll investigate today’s occurrence. Lindrl, we’ll take Silvy to your accommodation, and we’ll keep her there; if she escapes, you’ll be responsible for her elimination. Governor, you’ll stay away from the mages’ guild affairs until the king reaches a decision. I’ll be back shortly.”

The governor, displeased, composed himself and asked. “What about her attack on me? She tried to kill royalty. An execution is in order.”

Gorvan turned, unfazed by the sudden question. “Did she actually attack you? Or was it self-defense? I doubt your words more and more, Padrik Klisser. An investigation will be conducted, judgment will be passed, but not before finding the truth.”

“She is a half-elf! How can you believe that abomination more than me, especially after what the elves did to you?!” the governor said, his loud voice resonating through the room.

Gorvan visibly stiffened, barely suppressing his anger, Lindrl moving to Silvy’s side. “This child is not responsible for the death of my family and the sins of her race, governor. Goodbye.”

Cutting short the meeting, Gorvan walked away, Lindrl right behind, holding Silvy’s hand and pulling her away. Silvy turned again, staring at Zatha. She’ll have her revenge; just a bit stronger and that hateful woman would fall by her hands.

The guards, seeing a scowling [Archmage] marching towards them, parted at once. They stared at Silvy passing by them, but no one moved to stop her, even if she was carrying away a stolen sword. A small victory for the child.

Once outside the castle, Lindrl looked at Silvy, smiling. “Don’t move and hold onto me, okay? And don’t look down, especially if you are afraid of heights.”

Silvy was then scooped up by Lindrl, carrying her like a baby, embarrassment suppressed by the core. Deciding to trust Lindrl, she didn’t move, and a few seconds later, both Gorvan and Lindrl gently took flight, moving towards the mages’ guild. Silvy clutched to Lindrl, afraid of falling. They quickly left behind the noble district, soaring above the wall into the commoner district, landing in front of Lindrl’s lodging a minute later.

Gorvan turned to the two women, his stoic mask crumbling away to reveal a distressed look. “What were you thinking, Lindrl?! Why didn’t you tell me about that?” he said, waving at Silvy.

Lindrl let go of Silvy, who was happy to touch the ground again, responding to Gorvan. “I didn’t know if I could trust you. If the royals were behind it, they might have had you in it as well. I’m sorry.” she said with a tired smile on her face.

“Really?” Gorvan responded, offended. “You think I would condone any of this?! I thought you knew me better, Lindrl.”

The suddenly more expressive Gorvan took aback Silvy: he seemed genuinely distressed. She had thought he was a bit of a jerk, but maybe she had been wrong.

“I’m sorry, Gorvan, you are right. But she is a half-elf; I thought you’d want nothing of it.” Lindrl answered.

“Her origins are irrelevant.” Gorvan said, his stoic demeanor coming back, but with a bit of anger leaking out. “I don’t let my hate drive me. I hate elves, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go around killing innocent women and children as they did.”

“Humans did the same. You know that, Gorvan. Anyway, enough with the past. We have found ourselves with quite a situation in our hands. Let’s just hope the king is not in on this, or we risk the exile.” Lindrl said, sighing at the end.

Gorvan snorted. “Exile? The elves just declared war on us. The king would be an idiot to exile two [Archmages] at the front. No, the worst that can happen is a slap on our hands, maybe some budget cut or something irrelevant like that. No, Silvy is the one in danger-” Gorvan suddenly stopped, his eyes looking at Lindrl with a different light. “You are not making experiments on her, are you, Lindrl? You are quite zealous in that area…”

Lindrl opened her eyes wide with disbelief. “Me? On such a sweet child?!” their eyes unconsciously drifted to Silvy, who was staring at them, her semblance of a corpse clear to everyone with a pair of functioning eyes. Lindrl stared back at Gorvan, shaking her head lightly. “Not on her, alright?! Come on Silvy, let’s go inside. Gorvan and I have a few things to discuss in private…” she said, leading Silvy inside her study.

--------

The pair of [Archmages] were now in Gorvan’s study. The two places were very similar, except for the bare left wall not covered by the paintings and the overall color of the room, couches included, being duller.

“So? I know you did something to her. What did you discover?” Gorvan accused Lindrl.

“You might not believe me, but I don’t have the heart to experiment on her. Even after everything she went through, she’s still just a child. But, I have her arm and her blood: she cut them off in front of me to show her regenerative powers, convincing me of her story.” Lindrl put a hand to her heart, a light chuckle escaping her lips. “My heart missed a beat when she did that. We were talking in a classroom, and then she suddenly cuts off her arm, just like that, without even blinking.”

Gorvan nodded thoughtfully, staring into nothing. “Not something a normal child would do, even if she knew it would grow back. I wonder, does the monster core influence her thought process?” he shook his head, looking again at Lindrl. “Well, out with the details.”

Lindrl breathed in, her eyes lighting up, her voice enthusiastic, leaning forward towards Gorvan. “She has features from both undead and sapients, with magic powers to boot. First, she doesn’t need to sleep, eat, drink, and doesn’t get tired, like undeads. Moreover, she seems capable of keeping concentration for hours on end without faltering once. And you saw how skilled she was with the sword: she learned that in two weeks; she was just a petty thief before this transformation and not even a good one. I believe this progress has something to do with being undead, but I can’t say how.” Lindrl calmed a bit, leaning back into the couch and crossing her legs. “If we talk about magic… well, the advanced spell cast in the slums was her doing.” Lindrl said, dropping the bomb.

The revelation took aback Gorvan. “Not the elves? I was sure they were responsible, especially with today’s attack, probably to test our defenses. If she did that… she’s an [Archmage], then?”

Lindrl shook her head. “I’m not sure about that. After she cast the spell, she became a normal child for a small period of time, with normal humans needs and a bad gift for magic. She told me her cores had broken; a monster would die from that, and yet she still lives. She is both half-elf and monster, with advantages and disadvantages from both species. For example, I tested holy water on her amputated arm, and it burned and melted as you’d expect from a normal undead. I tested various potions on it, curious about its reactions. Every poisonous substance I injected had no visible effect, again, as you’d expect.” Lindrl leaned in, her voice enthusiastic again. “But, I discovered something interesting: healing potions heal too much, creating a bulb of flesh where I poured it.” she leaned back again, her voice calming down again. “Against magic, it reacted as you’d expect from an undead: fire scorched it, water wet it and so on; there was nothing different, at least from the spells I tried. The blood reacts the same way as the arm, with the notable effect of the healing potion multiplying its quantity.”

Gorvan asked puzzled, scratching his chin. “Do undeads react the same way with the healing potions? I never heard of someone trying that out, but given that a component is holy water, maybe it’s correlated…”

Lindrl answered, her voice uncharacteristically bitter for a new discovery. “Yes, common undeads reacted the same way. It’s another weapon against undeads, but not a great one. It’s much better using them for healing ourselves, especially because the new flesh didn’t seem to hinder the undeads too much, just slowing them down given the added weight.”

“And,” Lindrl continued, brightening again, a playful smile on her lips. “She doesn’t have one core in her, but two. Given that she has become undead again but has not recovered her previous magic prowess, it’s very likely that the second core is responsible for it.”

“Wait, two?! How is that possible?” Gorvan asked, shocked.

“Beats me.” Lindrl answered, shaking her head. “I thought a few ways how I would go about if I tried the same experiment with a single core, but two? It’s beyond me. Anyway, my best bet is that given that undead cores form after death, they waited for its formation and then resurrected her.” Lindrl said, sharing the method she thought they had most likely used.

“Nonsense.” Gorvan answered, instantly shutting down this hypothesis. “Undeads take at least half a day to rise, and no [Priest] can bring back someone after so long.”

Silence descended upon the two pondering [Archmages]. After a few minutes, Lindrl spoke again, Gorvan focusing his attention back to her. “Well, we won’t discover the answer standing here. Our best bet is to recover the documents explaining the process, or asking Kal himself. I bet he’s in it or at least knows about it. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one coming up with it. Anyway, an undead child is waiting for me: we’ll talk later.” Lindrl said, excusing herself and going back to her study.

Silvy was busying herself creating a mana line over and over. Still bloodied from the fight, she hadn’t sat down anywhere, afraid to ruin the expensive-looking furniture in the room. Turning at the sound of the door opening, she saw Lindrl coming inside, sighing at her sight.

“You are quite scary like this, you know?” Lindrl asked, looking up and down Silvy’s torn and broken body. “Any idea on how to go back being… normal?”

“Maybe… eating and drinking might help. I could also absorb another undead and regrow my body I guess…” Silvy said, unsure of the limits of this new ability.

Lindrl widened her eyes, surprised but excited. “Absorbing another undead?! You never told me that!”

“Well, it’s new. I discovered it in the dungeon.” Silvy explained what had happened and how she had absorbed the undead sword, but leaved the “Creator” part out of the story, as she felt this was an even bigger secret than her being half-monster.

“Alright, I’ll tell Deala to bring us food and water in abundance. If that doesn’t work, I’ll… recover a body.” Lindrl said, unsure how to not sound like a psychopath.

Silvy looked at Lindrl, unsure of the future. “What will happen now? What will the king say? Will I die?”

“Right now,” Lindrl comforted Silvy. “You will stay here and won’t go out. Word of your existence will get out quickly: many guards saw you, and the governor won’t be able to stop them all. But you won’t die, alright? I’ll protect you. Now, let’s go get a shower.”

Lindrl had a sizable bathroom all for herself, complete with a toilet, a sink, and a tub, all made of ceramic. A magic item, in the form of a disk hanging from the ceiling, created water with adjustable temperature. In the tub, water seeped into Silvy’s body. At first, it was converted into mana, but Silvy concentrated and let the water flow into her body normally, replenishing her bodily fluids. Her skin, the remaining pieces, slowly became smooth again, regaining some color.

Having changed clothes, a lavish meal awaited Silvy, which she greedily devoured. Her body didn’t undergo any visible change though, so Lindrl offered her help in recovering a corpse and letting it become undead, but only if Silvy absorbed it in front of her, a condition Silvy readily agreed to.

Barely an hour later, Lindrl came back, a dead body floating behind her. This body came from the slums, as elves had not only destroyed the brothel but the surroundings as well, leaving various victims to rot. A skinny old man, with half his face missing and clothes burnt in various places was in front of Silvy, who felt a little bad, but steeled herself because it was necessary.

An hour passed, Silvy training and Lindrl reading a book, sometimes looking over the dead body to see if it had awoken, when Silvy suddenly felt a link reach out to her, instantly knowing the undead was awakened. His fingers twitched, the right arm following right after. His eyes shot open, instantly staring at Silvy, but switching to Lindrl the moment right after. He slowly and carefully stood up, shambling towards Lindrl, mouth snarling without noise.

This creature was no danger to the archmage, but her book was now on her desk, and she was ready to stop the undead. Silvy focused on the link between them, giving the undead a mental order just as she had done with the undeads below the brothel.

‘Stop!’