“There is, one knows not what sweet mystery about this sea, whose gently awful stirrings seem to speak of some hidden soul beneath...”

- Herman Melville, Moby-Dick or, the Whale

The jewel burned with purpose; the runes inside were made for this. Oh, they stabilized the flow of void, they did that and more, but it was never their only purpose. To carry the weight of the dead, to command and summon them back from the void, what a still living person should never be able to bear, they made possible by stepping halfway into their realm.

Minds like shattered glass- cold, broken, and sharp. Alyssa felt as if it were the first time to channel the void. Cold and painful but also silent, peaceful. Like the deep dark beneath the waves of a timeless ocean. With a nudge, a suggestion really, she gave the command and the dead fell on the living the hatred held over hundreds of years made coercion unnecessary.

Stone and snow rained from the dead bodies as they moved jerkily, still unaccustomed to their newfound mobility.

Just in front of the stumbling Mireille, a hulking skeleton wielding a halberd made of shadow clove a Nordmark soldier in two. The men and women of the ducal army were caught completely by surprise. Pandaemonium reigned as some began to fight back others fled, and many simply died beneath the void-touched weapons of the living dead.

The undead directly before her was hit by several spells, one she distantly noted came from the portly magician, Gorms. She was like a bystander immersed in the cold and dark. Noise receded, and her feet did not feel the ground anymore. It was as if she was floating.

Crackling dark energies flashed from the jewel, and Alyssa’s eyes both radiated darkness as she slowly began to float.

Mireille gasped, and her probing hand came away stained with red. Hot pain burned from her wounds but it did not seem as if she was in danger of dying just yet- but who was she to know? ‘There should really be a course on basic medicine.’ She inanely mused. The skeleton before her was completely focused on killing the Nordmark soldiers even as it was blasted by several spells. She pushed herself back from the fighting and struggled to stand.

Vivienne’s eyes widened as she saw the arcs of unlight emanating from her fellow student and the undead bursting from the ground.

Pushing her brother behind her she shouted, “Keep together! She won’t hurt us save by chance. Keep your distance from the fighting!” She also tried to reach the teachers who had begun attacking the skeletons, but it did not seem to be effective.

Alea looked at the rising form of her friend and desperately raised a hand, “We have to stop her! She can’t, she shouldn’t…”

Cyrus hopped forward and, with a flap of his wings, lifted into the air winging toward his master. His soul lent her strength.

Between the students that had shrunk back from the downed girl's corpse an undead burst from the ground and eyes filled with blazing malice turned for a moment, an axe made of shadow swung over to them as it stopped to inspect them. But then it stepped over the body that seemed to have escaped the ravages of the spell before throwing back its head to release an unearthly scream full of longing, hate, and rage as it charged into the fray, cutting a crossbow in two before burying the blade in the chest of a retreating soldier. Flesh decayed and withered as the life was sucked from him.

“It is not yet time. I still enjoy watching you. If you come to make me whole we will sink, and we will drown in the darkness until our mind is scoured clean. It is not yet time.”

Something tickled at the back of her head. Flames leaped from the hands of a branded army sorceress burning raised warriors to ash. The woman turned, and she saw her mouth moving, but there was no longer any sound as the waves of the dark ocean lifted her, caressed her.

Behind her stood the girl from the dream, the mirror image of herself.

A whisper reached her again, “Don’t go yet. I dreamed of you, of your light, of your life. Everything dies. Don’t rush.”

The power was so vast that she did not feel anything anymore but the rushing of the void through her veins.

No one seemed to see her, this girl standing beside her. Even Asandria looked at the battle with a complicated expression but without realizing her presence.

She was like an old friend, like the first step into the house of your youth, familiar, very much so, but also separate. Something lost, something outside that she needed to have back.

“You can end this. If you don’t...” The girl sighed, and ice spread from where she stood, forming patterns on the ground. “We will both cease to be.”

“How come you can talk to me like this? Before, you only echoed my words.” Alyssa was surprised to realize she could still talk.

“Is that truly important right now?”

“I suppose it isn’t.”

She saw Mireille bleeding from many wounds, looking up at her, shouting. There was no sound.

Alea gestured and completed rune sequences building up to a spell of light.

Vivienne made a saluting gesture with a half-smile. Annabeth hugged Valens her eyes tightly closed.

The connection to the jewel was clear as the crystal it was made from, and with an effort like lifting a feather but also like breaking something infinitely precious, she felt the spell fading, and tears fell from her eyes as she lost the connection.

“Ah. That was unexpected- We will see each other again.” The girl turned toward her with an expressionless face, but she understood a faint happiness in those words as with a sibling that needed no words to express such thoughts.

The power she had so abundantly drawn upon faltered, and with a hacking cough and spitting blood, Alyssa fell to the ground. The connection with the undead grew tenuous, but she could still exert her will through whatever bond was left. She knew, where from she could not say, that the working she had forced upon the world would last for a few hours more. What would happen then, she could not hope to guess.

Somewhere else, in the Nordmark camp.

Calvin grabbed Gina and pulled her behind him. “Stop, there is one of those undead around those tents ahead!” He whispered fiercely. “I can maybe destroy it, but I don’t want to draw more attention.”

Frantic screams interspersed with explosions from several fire spells came from somewhere to the left.

“I don’t think we need to worry about that?” Kira said somewhat questioningly.

“You may be right.” Calvin thanked all the gods they had not been stripped of their belongings and hefted his trusty staff. The thing had gathered dust for decades. He mentally corrected himself, it had been fourteen years after the bad breakup with Jamila. The last one, that is. And then, he had the brilliant idea of becoming a tragic hero. Adventurer, more probably. He had all the gear and even the enchantments...but Illimen had his own thoughts on that matter, and the rest they say….

“Why are we in the middle of this camp and not fleeing for the woods?” Gina asked reasonably.

“We need to find my friends, they are somewhere in this camp. I know it!” Calvin grimaced as a skeletal warrior shoved a halberd into the back of a fleeing Nordmark soldier and twisted savagely.

“Why do those undead look like they have a grudge?” The mage grumbled and then pointed with his staff to a trampled tent. “Let’s go there. I think over there is the camp of the ‘guests’ the soldiers were talking about.”

“If you say so.” Kira gripped the grip of her bow tightly, knuckles whitening. “But please hurry.”

“Will do.”

Together they crept across the battlefield, for that was what the encampment had become. The undead were strangely disinterested in the trio, and they made good time. Finally, they reached a small, clear area. Probably meant for cooking or something, as cold firepits dotted the ground. In the back, near the stony field leading up to the hillside, stood a group of students along with several teachers. They seemed to be discussing something heatedly.

“She is a necromancer! So close to Ulsolm, and you want to tell me honestly she is not one of them? Kill her and be done with it.”

“The undead have not harmed a single one of us. The same cannot be said for the soldiers. Are you perhaps bought off by the Nordmarks?”

“Children! Don’t fight! We cannot have this at this time.”

“Shut up!”

“We are surrounded by undead and enemy rebel soldiers, and you argue about a third party that might not even be here! We can always have a formal investigation when we are not in danger of being violently killed!”

Several voices argued and shouted at each other.

“Do you really want to go there?” Gina asked.

“I am not sure myself.” Calvin rubbed his chin with his left hand. “But I fear there is nothing to it; I recognize some of those morons.”

In the woods a ways from the hilltop with the standing stones.

“After them!” Lars von Nordstrom grinned savagely as he commanded the army detachment, his army, he corrected himself mentally. Wielding his sword, he rushed ahead to see the vanguard intercept the tribal delegation. They had been slowed by the old diplomat they had been escorting; even so it had been quite a chase.

Hulking wolf-tribe warriors fought in a berserker fury, hacking at his troops with great axes and hammers. But they were warriors first and soldiers a distant second. Each fought on his own with considerable prowess, and men fell wherever he looked, but for each that died to their blows, they got cut in return and spells further evened the field. He saw a stone-branded with his skin completely covered by uneven granite grapple with one of the tribesmen, and even as his head was just reaching the big warrior's chest region he could hold his own.

Laughing, he gestured, “Capture the old one; leave none of the others alive! For the commandant, avenge his death!”

Cheers and angry shouts rose from the fighting soldiers.

Sirviels grove.

“I got a message by wind-whisper. Treachery.” Mordrak Redfang bared his teeth in a silent snarl. “They seem to be in dire straits. As this was deemed most important, they had the elder with them and his years weigh heavily on his back and knees.”

“Why not carry him in pinch?” Iseret wondered. She had been introduced and tacitly accepted as her friend even as the warriors kept a close eye on them both.

Growls from some of the tribesmen made Vanessa tense before Mordrak held up his hand. “They do not know better, but we do. We are wolves. We run. If we can’t, we die. It’s as simple as that. Only the babes or the wounded might be carried in an emergency, and as long as it is at all possible, they would us not want to.”

“Understood.” Iseret gave a small nod.

Vanessa’s eyes widened as a wall of darkness rushed over them, and her dead body throbbed with power. “What!?” She turned and looked to the south.

Sirviel shivered and clasped her chest with both arms bowing as if against a strong wind.

Mordrak frowned, “What happened?”

“Someone botched a summoning, most probably.” Vanessa shook her head. “But even that does not explain the power of the phenomenon.”

“Ill winds blow,” Sirviel whispered. “Someone broke the sky. Tell your wind-speakers to be careful. Drawing upon the source of the world will also give you of its end.”

“There is void magic tainting the area. It will not hurt Iseret or me but could harm your people.” Vanessa tried to explain.

“I think I understand.” The big warrior silently conversed with one of his men, and the one he spoke to soon left.

“I cannot leave my post. And if I did, it would not be timely enough in any case.” Several of his men were restlessly gripping their weapons or shifting their weight. Hearing his quietly uttered words, they stilled again.

Vanessa looked to Sirviel. “What do you think we should do?”

“I fear for your friends. This night brings much grief. But for the sake of the lands here, you should see what has been done for yourself. Seek the source, and you will know its get.”

Iseret stepped closer, looking at her without urgency.

Sighing, Vanessa said. “Iseret? Would you remain here to support the defense of the grove and, if necessary, be a witness to what happens here? I am faster if I travel alone.”

A bit of hurt flashed in her slit-yellow eyes. “I understand. Take care.”

Vanessa raised a hand and swallowed before then hesitantly hugging her friend. Letting go quickly after that, she vanished in a slowly spreading cloud of mist.

Sirviel tilted her head and smiled for the first time. “The romance of a dry leaf and a snake. There is something new in every day.”