Prologue

Rasmus - 1

“In many of the old villages, the people had taken to burning the remains of their loved ones.  Once upon a time burning the dead was considered disrespectful. The Witches and priests a like of the ancient ways believed it best to let a man or woman’s remains rot in the ground to return to the soil from whence it came- to let them be reborn, to return their energy into the earth and bleed it out once more into the world of the living.

That was before- when elements and magic were simple and straightforward- when people believed Witches powers were less sinister and they were respected widely across the lands. That was before the great wars- when those with magic were revered, and those without were considered savage…

But then men turned the practice of manipulating water into manipulating blood,  they turned healing into killing- they took the heat they could create from warming to destroying and burning. And then other magics arrived, small offshoots of the great elements.

No one knew who the first necromancer was- but necromancy and the manipulation of the dead was one of the magics almost instantly banned upon its discovery. If practiced poorly the dead would wake any where- and without souls the dead were savage evil creatures- brought back with no will of their own- only able to do whatever their master bid them.. And the magic often turned on the wielder. It was tricky.

But meddling with death did not make one evil at heart.

in those earliest days, a plague spread across the land- many became ill, and many died.. and those who died of this illness often returned. As if this illness itself seemed to come out of no where- though some rumored that it had been brought into the world of the living from the world of the dead- that a man brought back- soul and all had brought it back with him. But no one knew for sure; after all, until then, no one had been known to really come back with their soul in tact. It was unheard of.

Some necromancers began cropping up here and there- those who survived the illness some of them- and they put the dead back down with ease and skill like none other. They set the balance right again.  Such magic always came with a heavy cost.

These necromancers taught the villages to burn their dead to prevent the spread-  and often they killed off the sick before the illness could kill them. In those days the necromancers were briefly respected and hated at the same time. It lasted no more than a decade though- and the illness and its effect on the corpses of the deceased  seemed to be gone forever.

Over time the necromancers become one of the most rare of practitioners amongst the witches.  Each which had the element they were drawn to - they didn't chose it, it chose them. And it chose fewer and fewer over the years and generations- eventually it was believed a myth, or to be extinct… It was simply gone.

This was when the old kings took power. Magic was in decline at this time. For hundreds of years those with magic had ruled- it had been like a sign of one’s status. But the witches mixed with the humans, and slowly, their race became a trait instead of its own species, and magic itself was becoming more rare.

One man, known as Warrick,  had become so powerful in the decline of magic, that he united most of the regions together under his rule. He  declared himself king, and began the construction of a great castle fortress and town beneath it- he said it would be so great as to fend off any siege or enemy- that no threat would ever endanger his land there.

And as the time went on, he had a harder and harder time  getting the people to work for him- to help him build this great keep.  four years into the construction of it, he turned to capturing the nomadic people and the tribes and clans of the woods who refused to settle under his rule- he enslaved them- forcing them to work in his mines and quarries and build his keep.

As the years grew on, Warrick grew older and crueler.  thousands had been enslaved in the years, and many of them had died at work under his whip.  This was when a the liberator had come.

He was a Witch, one of those from the west where the magic was still so strong. He was nameless for so long- becoming known only by his acts of savagery against the king. He swore to overthrow him, to kill him and build an army to take the kingdom back for those with magic. to free all those enslaved and give them them justice they deserved.

The bodies of those killed in the quarries began to come to life- following under this man- no one had ever seen such a vast creation of thralls- no one had ever been able to control so many at once. He was undoubtedly one of the most powerful witches ever born. And no one knew his real name.

No one knew the man’s origin. Some said he had been mercenary from the south, or a priest from the east. other more humble rumors seemed to be the most corroborated- he had been a slave under Warrick’s reign- watching his family die one by one until he could take it no more, and fury and rage consumed him, leaving him capable of feeling nothing but a desire for revenge.

They called him Witch King for the longest time- and those who grew to know him called him by the name he gave, Lorrigan. He was not overly proud, or cruel- but he was ambitious. and he was vengeful. He was not hated by the witches under him- but men hated him- those without magic despised him for taking away their crown. They overlooked that he had liberated so many slaves because the slaves were not their people..

They began to call him a tyrant- and he continually put down their rebellions- he even married a magicless human girl, trying to show he was not so hateful as they saw- but he truly loved her. whether or not she loved him as always been in question..

Through out all the years, the rebellions were largely lead by three men. The first was lead by Warrick’s eldest son- a cold harsh man with no sense of humor and no love of magic- he wished to restore the old ways of slavery and finish the keep- to follow in his father’s footsteps.. And he did. He was executed the same as his father and his rebellion put down.

The second great rebellion was lead by Warrick’s second eldest son. He craved power and glory and vengeance, and foolishly attacked with many men but a poor plan. He was executed the same as his father and brother and his rebellion put down.

The third rebellion became a war. Lead by Warrick’s youngest son. the boy had been barely an infant when his father was killed- he had been raised as a soldier not as a king or a prince- but he wanted it all the same. He was considered a hero amongst the people- even those with magic began to rally to him- he promise an end to slavery and justice to all- he promised all the things that Lorrigan had promised- but he was far more agreeable- and his lack of magic had men behind him- his promises rallied witches.

This third son, Bayard, was considered a great man- Lorrigan admired him- but they were sworn enemies- Lorrigan would not give up what he had taken so simply.

And he never did. It was taken from him one night as he dined with his wife and their young daughter- a girl no more than ten- taking after her father with magic. He loved them both so dearly- but nonetheless, the wife did not love them. Lorrigan’s wife, Elaine,  poisoned the food at the table, and feigned that she could not eat- letting her husband and child eat the food.

She walked away watching as they both began to die.

Lorrigan spent his last breath to save his child, but died in the act- only having time to heal her before succumbing to the poison, and passing into the afterlife he had always been so pre-occupied with.

Lorrigan the Witchking is known as the last necromancer- and it is to this day one of the most hated and feared forms of magic- being reviled as dark and evil amongst almost all- magic and non alike.”

“Is that how it really happened?”  the young boy asked, looking up at his mother.  “Is that how Lorrigan Witchking really was?”  The child flopped back onto his blankets wearily, staring up at the stars as the fire crackled beside them- watching as the sparks drifted upward towards the sky..

“Did you imagine him some how specifically?” The older woman asked, laying down beside her young son, and looking up  with him. “ They say the girl lived. Changed her name and started her own clan- but always vowing revenge for her father.”

“I think vengeance is a fools game.” The boy answered quietly. “It seems likely to get you killed, and every one you care for. I dont see the point.. when something’s done - its done. No punishment or justice can ever make it right.”

“ no little one.. I suppose not. But it can make you feel better.” She smiled softly to the child, and ruffled up his black shaggy hair, and leaned over to kiss his head. “ Now sleep child.”

“How am I supposed to get a wink now- I’ll only be dreaming of the dead.” He sighed miserably as if she’d punished him by telling him the story.

“Then dream also of the necromancers- and how they put the dead down. don’t forget that.” She almost laughed at her boys sulking attitude. “ I gave you a story like you asked, now close your eyes.

But sleep was still a far ways off for him, and he stared for a while at the flickering bits of ash as they floated up from the burning logs like molten flecks of gold- fading out of existence as instantly as they came in.  “ You think that’s my magic?” he asked his mother now- unable to remain silent so long.

“do you think that’s why I haven’t found my calling yet?” He looked over his shoulder, rolling once more onto his back to look to his mother’s face as she tried to sleep.

“No. No, there have been no necromancers in more than two hundred years- Lorrigan was the last. You will find your hum one day son, you just have to be patient. You’ll find it.” Her eyes seemed to glow with the light of the coals at the bottom of the fire, and it sparked up- becoming brighter and warmer beside them.

“Its not fire, or water, or earth like  Mina’s. Its not the  Sight, and its not any of those. “ he groaned. “ I have to find my hum.”

It took a long while after that for the boy to sleep- no comforting from his mother would ever convince him.

He knew he was a witch- he could use his magic- but he had not found the right one yet- he had not yet discovered which he wanted to master and had no great love for any.. though he had a remarkable talent for each he picked up he seemed not to acknowledge that rare accomplishment.. He would not be satisfied until he found it out.

When he woke the next morning the fire was ash. It was  coals and dirt and the wood was burnt away. His mother was off- likely washing the clothes in the river, or helping Mina’s mother with the cooking. He pulled his blankets off, rolling them up and stuffing them inside the tent as he stretched and pulled on his boots.

He was a boy of almost ten, and  slight and thin for his age- something he liked about himself very much. His hair was black and curly, hanging into his face all the time- unruly and unmanageable- his mother saw it as a sign that he would be unruly and unmanageable. But his mother did not have a touch of the sight, so he doubted she knew what she was talking about.

“Ras!” He heard the girl shouting. Mina was his age almost exactly- and the prettiest girl he’d ever known. She had been his closest friend since the first memory he could recall- and they spent most of their time togethe rin the woods, hiking and climbing and fishing and swimming. She was an earth element witch- attuned to nature on so many levels- he respected her.. and was always jealous that it was not his calling.

“Min!” He smiled, watching as she made a beeline for the woods- and instantly chased after her.

“I had a thought!” she said, grinning like a mad-dog. “ About you- last night!”

“What do you mean?” he asked, following her into the woods deeper- and stopped as she started climbing a tree- she was quick and agile, and a good climber to boot- he was less talented at such a thing.. He’d always been afraid of heights.. “ Come on- please you have to come up. I have a thought about you and magic, and I wanted to test it out.”

He wondered what she meant- but he began the climb up after her all the same.. he could feel splinters sticking into his fingertips as he struggled to get a good hold and footing. He climbed up one branch after another- each time refusing to look down- only looking up. His heart raced- at first with fear.. But slowly it was replaced with confusion, and then at least exhilaration. when would she stop climbing this tall oak beat and tell him her thought..

“ You can see the castle from here..”

He heard her speaking to him- and saw she had finally stopped near the top.. it had to be a good twenty feet up.. he knew she was brave.. but this seemed unsafe. He found a branch- settling just beneath her.

“What castle?” he asked ignorantly. “ You know- the one Warrick the White built. the one your mother tells us stories about-” She pointed to it across over the trees, showing the great monstrous castle in the distance..

The castle was massive. It spralled over  an entire mountainside . Its town and the villages beneath its height were all over the side and base of the mountain.  It had once had its own name- but was long since forgotten in favor of the name of the castle. It was simply known as Kingswood Keep- presumably because the mountain had simply been an uninhabited part of King Warrick’s hunting woods.

It had seven tall towers- three of which reached up to be taller than the mountain’s tip itself- and each taller than the next. Some said it was started by Warrick- symbolizing his three strong heirs and sons. Others say that it was a monument by Bayard after he won the third rebellion- symbolizing how he defeated the witchking when his brothers before him came close- but failed- the third and tallest tower representing himself; the lower towers his brothers before him. Either way it was magnificent.

The stones were so dark a gray that from this distance they appeared almost black- or as if they were covered in ash for a thousand years.

Rasmus looked up at the castle wide eyed. He’d never seen it before. “ Its bigger than I even thought it could be.. Why.. It must be at least two miles long!” He meant the castle itself- “ And the village’s- there could be more than ten..” He looked in awe..

“its lovely isn’t it..”

“so- what was your tho-” the young lad had been about to ask her what her thought had been in regards to his magic- when they both heard it- screams from the camp. They both looked in that direction again.. “ what was that..?” he went wide eyed in fear- hearing another scream- and then another.. He could see smoke rising from the camp- too much to be just one flame…

He had to know what was happening.. he had to see for himself- had the camp caught fire? Wouldn't his mother tame it? Those who tamed water could put it out- they were by a river after all..?

“Stay here Min- I’ll go check it out!” He started to climb down slowly- stopping at the next lowest branch. “  I’ll come back- but just stay here to be safe okay?” He looked up to her giving her a smile..”

“No! No- Ras come back- don’t go down there- what if its dangerous!”

“ all the more reason for you to stay there!” he shouted back to her- making his way back down.

He’d never been half as good a climber as her- and slowly- forgetting entirely why he’d come up here in the first place,  he’d tried making his way back down. Ras’ foot caught on a knob in the tree, and slipped off though- his grip meaningless without a foot hold- and he lost his hold on the trunk al together- plunging twenty feet towards the ground.

And in those moments he experienced two things- one he did not expect. He heard Mina screaming in horror as he fell- and he felt for the first time- his hum. He finally felt peace as he fell- he as the wind slipped past his fingers- charged through his hair- and left no hold for him to grab- he felt it for the first time. His calling in the wind.

And then he woke up.

Author's Note

This story is still in the rough draft stages, and there are likely to be a lot of grammar mistakes, and a lot of places where I could add more. This is mostly just a place for me to post my work and see if any one is even interested in reading just another fantasy based story.