The rhythmic jerks of the carriage lulled the necromancer into a calm, restful state- a state he had learned to approach cautiously through many years of the otherworldly intrusions into his mind. His own memories and the delusions they spawned were horrors he surmised few others were capable of accepting. For one; the Satyr’s chains clicked and rattled and should he allow himself to hear them; he would inevitably see the horrifying beast by long. Secondly... the haunting images of old- the glimpses of a now-forgotten past would torment him should he dare think of the man who had raised him. “Damn you, old man...” He whispered under his breath, as his mind forced upon him another glimpse of the pyre. He grunted and raised his palms to rub his face to dispel the imagery, only to hear a cautious, melodious voice speak from opposite to him.

“W-what?” Neda sat with her palms to the air in the form of the lotus and although he had to give her credit for her efforts, she was yet to succeed in the first of her tasks.

Peering through his fingers; he glanced at her supple form and spoke through gritted teeth. “I was not talking to you, girl. Nor did I say you could rest! If you wish to learn, then prove it!” Her heart was in the right place- he could tell by the sweat dripping down her forehead to stain the cleavage of her shirt. She immediately closed her eyes and resumed her work in the darkness of the hot, humid carriage. “Find your element” he had instructed her. “Find the magic in the air” he had said as she had begged him to clarify. She had hoped to learn a trick- something that would allow her a measure of his power, but in the hours since they started their journey; she had gotten nowhere.

She took deep breaths as he had instructed and felt the air brush past her lips and cool her tongue. It had a temperature; it had a taste- a smell... but magic? How was she to know? She peered through a narrow slit of her eyelids to see Asrael inspect the gaping wound atop his heart with displeasure on his lips. Next; he raised to fingers and pressed them to the wound while groaning with the pain of working on his own flesh- sealing the gashes the old woman’s knife had left in his skin, muscles and organs.

He had told her to be quiet- to work on the task, but seeing the impossibility of his survival, she could not help but ask; “H-hey... how are you... still alive?”

Asrael glared up at her and clarified; “I have never claimed to be.” The silence following his words only left more time for her mind to form questions- questions he assumed he would have to answer should her failing concentration continue to spin out of control, either way. Pre-emptively, before she could get too comfortable, he informed;

“Thankfully, my control of the magical energies within my body allow me to repair my flesh.” Her eyes widened with awe.

She braved relaxing and wiped her brow with her lower left arm. “Can I do that one day?”

He scoffed as he imagined her ever understanding the basics of histology and shook his head. “No, you imbecile. These are two different disciplines.” He put his palms to his forehead once more and sighed both with his mouth and the slit in his chest.

Although disapproving of his tone, she knew better than to fight the madman. Instead; she cocked her hand and questioned; “Disciwhat?” If he hadn’t regretted not murdering the girl before, he was now. In truth; he had no business bringing her along to begin with- he was no teacher, nor was he interested in having an apprentice... but the mystery she represented- the unknown... it could scarcely be passed up- not by one whose pride revolved around his mental faculties.

He grabbed his chin ponderously. Perhaps he had not given her enough credit- perhaps, she needed the basics before she could reach enlightenment. He leaned back against the wall and folded his right leg over his left to inform; “Magic, heat, movement- these are all forms of energy born from nature’s workings. We constantly exchange these energies with our surroundings and to a degree; we may influence them- you more than most, it would seem.”

The vague outline of a smile loomed at the corners of her lips as he paid her what appeared to be a compliment, only for it to fade as he continued; “but energy is just that. Energy. When we speak of applying magic; we primarily speak of two forms of expression- the natural and the arcane.” She sat on the edge of the bench and sharpened her ears to absorb his lesson. He raised his right hand and short forth a tendril of green gas from the fingertip of his index- amazing the girl with the simple trick.

“This is how I express my magic naturally. I am simply letting it bleed from my skin and a skilled magus such as I can direct them for as long as I maintain a direct line of contact with the magic. I suspect this is what fueled your expression when you tried to foolishly kill me with yours. This form has little use for me. I can use it to manipulate flesh- as could you, had you had the skill, knowledge and intellect for it.” Aside from looking at her as if she were the biggest idiot in the world, he seemed not to mind her previous attack on him... at least not openly. She felt a moment’s unease as he reached for his shirt and began unbuttoning the now-stained fabric to display the thick scars on his flesh with a proud smile.

He motioned for his skin and spoke; “This... This is magic in its truest form. If that energy is run through patterns, it can be transformed and put to use in ways beyond what elemental affinities would dictate.” She hated how he would use such complicated words, as if to confound her more on his whim. She bit her lower lip and attempted to wrest her mind around the information.

Braving the stern gaze; she followed up with a question of her own. “What’s an elemental affinity?” For once, his hesitation seemed more profound than the surface-level trepidation he would usually display. It was as if he dreaded to inform her of something- or rather; wished he did not have to.

This time; he motioned for her and said: “All magic has an element. I am quite certain that you are an aeromancer- your affinity is that of the wind. For every element and form of energy, you will find a corresponding magical affinity, though some are extraordinarily rare. It seems this is where I am to run into some... difficulties.” Before she could ask the natural question to follow his statement with; his green eyes went distant and his mouth fell ever-so-slightly ajar. She could not see what Asrael’s soldiers were spying just down the road and thus; she was concerned to hear him whisper something. “What manner of beautiful creation-…"

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“-is this?” It was the first time Asrael had seen it through his own eyes, rather than with Kerras’. The four-legged beast lay lazily in the middle of the road and sought shelter from the setting sun’s red rays beyond a tall rock. On its back; the two impressive humps seemed to have deflated in the last day or so since last he had seen it, but the creature appeared unperturbed. Instead; it met his green eyes with continuous chewing motions and twitches of its impressive nostrils. Berral and Neda watched the enthusiastic necromancer slowly approach it with his right hand raised in his defense. It was unlike anything he had ever seen- a beast of fantasy, rather than reality. Could it be that this misshapen collection of various anatomical extravagances was a creature of the Rift? Could it, like the Satyr haunting his dreams, be a Daemon? The two large toes, the long eyelashes- the third, nasal, eyelid... the humps.

“Magnificent...” Asrael muttered and sat down to study it from afar. Neda’s brow lowered as she attempted to find the words to express her disbelief of the man’s fascination.

“I hope you do not hold it against me, Daemon, but your allied human had to die in order to win us our freedom. They would never have left the camp, had I given them nothing.” The large, brown eyes remained unimpressed as the beast continued chewing. If it truly was a Daemon, Asrael had to be cautious. He knew, better than anyone, the dangerous folly that came from dealing with their kind- a mistake he would not be so quick to repeat, lest he’d have this creature haunting his waking nightmares, as well.

Neda stepped up next to Asrael and bent around him to signal her curiosity in the form of a raised eyebrow before approaching the beast to ruffle its head. The necromancer nearly reached out to snap the girl’s neck for her insanity, but a profound huff of the beast’s nose as it leaned into her hand dispelled Asrael’s irk.

“Oh, he’s a big one... poor thing. It’s just a calf, too.” The girl was as courageous as she was insane to speak to a high being such as this one with such a lack of respect, but the monstrous creature seemed to enjoy her gentle, yet decided touches. It leaned against her hand to have its neck and ears scratched, but not once did its jaws cease chewing.

“You’ve never seen a camel before, have you?” She asked over her shoulder. He had never heard of such a beast as a ‘Camel’, but by the sound of her tone; he gathered he should have. In an attempt to regain his confidence, he shook his head and stated; “I do not concern myself for lesser beings... it is a lesser being... yes?”

Neda leaned in to scratch its long neck with both her hands and giggled as she spoke; “Idunno about that. They’re fast on the dust and they can live out here for weeks without water.” It made sense to him that the creature was one of the Blighted lands. Everything about it seemed perfectly adjusted for the region- the clear additional eyelid, the wide foot, the fluid-rich humps at its back- truly; a remarkable being well-adapted for its environment... a source of inspiration.

Barrel approached from behind the two and scratched his enormous posterior to question it; “Where ya goin’, fella?” The camel looked at the small, fat man as if he were one of its own kind and momentarily paused chewing before sounded a series of ungodly, guttural groans and burps.

“Ain’t got nowhere to go, huh? Well, ain’t no food ‘round here. Without a handler, you’d best get out of the Blight before you start starvin’.” Neda watched the necromancer’s head dart back and forth between the camel as he watched their odd communication.

Finally; she remembered that Asrael was probably still unaware of Barrel’s ability and informed; “Oh. Yeah, Berral can talk to horses... I guess he can talk to camels, as well.” She scratched her gentle chin. Had Asrael misheard her? Had he misunderstood all of this? Had he fallen asleep in the back of the carriage, only to awaken in a nightmare? Was this man... a psychomancer? He cocked his head at the small, round man and watched him continued to explore the deepest reaches of his nostrils as if he hadn’t just spoken to a beast. Before Asrael could question their driver, Barrel pointed to the north and belched. After a moment’s pause; the camel looked over its shoulder and eventually staggered to its feet.

“Stop! Wait!” He commanded his companions and even the tall, furred creature turned to look at the maniacal, green-eyed magus in their midst.

Asrael felt a fool for speaking to the beast, but he could hardly allow the unique creature’s escape. “I wish for you to join us, Beast. Whatever food or water you desire; I shall see to it you have it. You like the girl, yes? You may have her, too, but I must study your anatomy.” Neda and Barrel looked at the necromancer with worry and unnerve as he remained in a petrified still between them- gauging the creature’s reaction.

Barrel confirmed his suspicions by belching once more and promptly extending his right hand towards the magnificent beast. While the two sounded their ungodly chatter; Neda approached from Asrael’s side to smile slily at him and question; “You didn’t... really... think you’d be able to talk to it, did you? It’s a camel.” Very rarely did Asrael’s cheeks flush- especially in the days following his death. But if his heart had beat and if his capillaries could have dilated; he might have at that moment. As it were, the proud magus scoffed.

He looked at her as if she were the fool and clarified; “Of course not, foolish girl. As one of my men; Barrel saw the task better for him and took the initiative- just as I had planned. I have no lesser expectations of you... if you are to come with me, I expect you to prove your utility at every opportunity.” What she could do? As honored as she felt at the charge; she could not imagine any possible way in which she could ever provide something he could not. But perhaps... if she continued working hard... she might one day have a gift as useful and applicable as Barrel’s.