5 Chapter 5: Emotions of the Slave and Master

Lydia gasped as the teleportation ended. The air here felt foul, as though there had been something sickly in it. She breathed out of necessity, but still nothing felt right. Gerald, for his part, simply lay on the ground. His eyes closed and one might have easily mistaken him for dead, except for the soft movement of his chest. 'Too much magic in too short of a time.' He thought, trying to relax his thoughts and trying to free his mind.

"Where (cough) Where in the hells are we?" Lydia said, her eyes wide and her lips suddenly parched despite the ale she had just had.

"Welcome to the Fields of Ash." Gerald replied softly. His voice was quiet, but his mind was still racing. If it was the Everseekers who had shot the hole through the room before, they would be coming and soon. If it was a Gin mob, they were safe for at least several hours. The Gin were notorious for staying at home at all costs after all. "I'm afraid this isn't where I wanted us to end up, but I'm running on a lack of power right now." His voice was strained. "What do you see?"

Lydia took a moment to look around. Besides the hills of grey ash, there seemed to be nothing, though the wind was always pushing some small amount of the grey ash around. She reported to him what she was seeing and he just smiled. "Good. Please move me."

She shot the man a look. "What?"

"I can't move myself, you'll have to move me."

Lydia stood agape at this, and her hatred of the necromancer in front of her grew. "Do it yourself, fool." She retorted.

Gerald, for his part, chuckled, not even opening his eyes. "I could make it an order, but I'd rather you do it willingly. The Everseekers are not kind to those they catch, and I cannot write off that it was them that blew a hole in the room." His words seemed to strike home in the woman. Lydia, full of revulsion and after a minute of quiet thinking, grabbed the man's arms and began to drag him away on his back. "Thank you." He muttered. "You may speak freely except for my race." The magic distilled itself through the link.

She didn't respond except to grunt with his weight. While the ash didn't impede her progress too much, it did tend to stick to her and her feet sank into it. Once they were finally over a hill of ash, she let him go. He slid down the hill about a meter or two, but continued to not move on his back. Lydia moved and sat next to him. "I'm trying to take in everything." She said at length, her mind running with everything that had happened. Then she started muttering, "I go into a town, expecting some stupid Warlock and ran into a-" He voice cut off as she mouthed 'Necromancer'. "This... man... forced me into a slave pact, and just took me from one end of the gods blessed continent to the other." She moaned in frustration at the sheer absurdity of it. She then turned her venom on the man laying near her. "Don't you think it's difficult enough to find a Warlock?" She shouted, her brain releasing its venom on him. "Why did I have to go and find a Geez cursed-" Again, cut off. "I should just abandon you here in the plains and run for myself."

"That would be smart." Gerald said, blowing a strand of hair out of his mouth. "I couldn't argue with that, except for the slave pact."

"I KNOW!" She shouted, standing, the impact of his words washing over her. She caught herself and stuttered, "I'm... I'm going over there." She stomped away, as much as she could on the sandy ash, leaving Gerald to his own thoughts. Fortunately for them both, Gerald was focusing on magic and feeling it, and his connection to it as he rested. It would be some time before his mind turned back to the world around them.

Lydia walked over another hill and sat before bursting into tears. Not just your standard cry either, but the horrible kind. Nothing was right anymore. Nothing would ever be the same... Her mind wandered over her childhood and her upbringing in the House of Roses. The only daughter in a family of sons. Her brothers who had left to find fortune and a Warlock for the queen, only to fail and bring dishonor on the family. But there was her. Lydia, the heiress to the family place on the Green. The last hope for the family... She was the woman who had found a clue to the location of a Warlock… now a mere slave. And worse yet, a slave to a man who practiced the forbidden arts... What would they say if they could see her now... Her mind could barely take in the pain and humiliation. She cried and shrieked into the afternoon sky for a long time, and didn't stop until the tears were spent and a cold numbness took her mind despite the heat on the ashen mound she sat on. And even then, she mourned herself. The slave bond would not be let her be free, even if she were to run for it. Not that she knew where she was, nor how far it was to the nearest town or village. Even in death, the Necromancer could hold her to her debt. It was all hopeless... Or at least it felt like it. As the numbness took her, she muttered to herself, "I guess it all just doesn't matter..."

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Gerald felt the magic like he hadn't in years, even as he touched it lightly and gingerly in his mind. It had been a long time since he had spent the time and mental thought to ponder or reach into its depths. But here, here on the homeland of his ancestors, he lay prone, quiet, and pondered its mysteries. The world would continue without him for a moment. He heard Lydia's cries and shrieks and felt bad for her. It wasn't her fault for any of this, and it was a lot to take in. I mean, it's not every day that one met a Necromancer. 'I think I may be the last one.' He sadly acknowledged to himself. The rumors about Necromancy and Necromancers had only gotten worse in the telling through the years as well. It had been more than 400 years since another Necromancer had been sighted, and she had been hunted down by the Everseekers. (He had brought her back as a Vampire Countess so that she could tell her account.) 'I should check in on her sometime.' He thought to himself, but quickly put the idea out of his mind. 'One thing at a time.'

He focused and found some power in himself again, thanks in no small part to the chicken and the ale he'd eaten at Lime's. He opened his eyes and sat upright slowly. Time had certainly passed, and it appeared that luck was still on his side. There was no sign of anyone following. 'At least, not yet.' He looked to his right and saw the sunset beginning on the horizon. The colors just beginning to turn an orange hue on the evening sky. There was no sound from where Lydia had walked away to, but with the pact, he knew exactly where she was. It was the joy, and curse, of the slave pact. And it was a Necromancer's burden to bear that for many of their servants. Gerald slowly stood, feeling the blood rush back into his legs. He tried to wipe some of the ash from his eyes and failed, mostly because his own hands were coated in the ashes of his people. The history and story almost filled his mind. 'One thing at a time.' He thought again before turning his attention away to his companion.

He walked over the hill and saw her. Her face was coated in the ash, her eyes were bloodshot, and there were tear marks on her cheeks that had long since dried. "Come on." He said, holding a hand out to help her up. She ignored it and stood on her own. Her eyes not focused on anything, and her mind obviously elsewhere. "Are you alright?" He asked, knowing full well that she wasn't alright.

"I'm fine master." She replied blandly. Gerald was shocked. The life that had been in her words about a dozen hours before had been replaced. He hated it.

"Please don't call me master. I've never liked that."

"Yes, sir." She responded in that monotonous tone.

"I... never mind." He turned and looked at the sunset. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"It's... nice. Sir." She said in response.

He stood in silence, hoping that the growing orange of the sunset would awaken something in her. He was disappointed. "Well... We need a place to sleep for the night." He said, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her. She just stared blankly. "Um... If I remember correctly, there's a small town on the road about a kilometer from here... um..." The silence from his companion was deafening, but she looked into the sunset and watched it, her eyes focusing on it for the briefest of moments.

As she stood in the orange glow of the sunset, as the red hues began their march with the passage of time, the tans and reds of the clothes he had picked out for her amongst the Gin stood out. Her face, even in her depressed state, looked strong. The lost look of her eyes almost moved the man to tears, and her body almost glowed with the radiance of the setting sun. Her dress moved with a small gust of wind, but nothing seemed to bother her. Gerald shook his head, pulling his mind away from her appearance and focused again on the sunset. The sun was sinking fast. "Um... shall we head out? It'll get cold enough soon." She didn't nod or respond in any way, but began to walk quickly towards the sinking sun. Gerald walked behind her, hating the silence more and more with each passing step.

They reached the road after a short while, just as the sun finished its setting and the heat that came from sunlight dwindled to the bitter cold of night. They turned left and both walked down the roadway. The Necromancer now stayed closer to his companion, silent though she was. These were the lands of the undead in modern times. The ancient home of the Necromancers in their days of glory. Before the Wizards... 'Not now.' He thought, focusing his thoughts back on the present. There were a few nearby moans. He felt the undead around him. They welcomed him, and sought him out to be their commander and master, but he sent them away. They were Zombies after all. The lowest of the undead. Brainless, soulless, nothing but their ravenous desire for the flesh of the living and to increase their numbers remained in what little remained of their brains. One bite would be all it took for most men, women, and children to become another of the horde. He didn't need Zombies at this time. He had his hands full for the moment with the depressed woman at his side. Lydia, for her part, began to shiver despite the numbness of her demeanor. Gerald immediately put his own, well worn, coat over her shoulders, and she pressed it tightly to herself as she walked in a stupor that rivaled the Zombies of the countryside. For the Necromancer, the cold and dry air was an old friend. It wasn't often in the modern day that a Necromancer was able to walk in the cold of his homeland by night. He relished its touch. 'Much better than that accursed rain.' He thought to himself, remembering only a few hours before in Woodstand. He smiled despite himself.

"Master, I hear moans." Lydia stated in her monotone voice. This shook Gerald, him having grown used to the silence, excepting the fall of their feet.

"Just Zombies." He said. "I'm keeping them away from us."

"Might be better if they bit me." She replied, her eyes looking down at the road. "Being mindless doesn't sound so bad right now."

"Don't." Gerald said, stopping, grabbing her shoulders, and turning her towards him. "Don't... please..." The pained look in his eyes woke something in Lydia, and her eyes met his. "I've... Um... Just don't wish that. They sense it, and they are happy to oblige."

"So let them."

"Never." His look now grew stern. "I know today has been... eventful. Nothing has gone the way you thought it would. The 'World Gone Upside Down' as it were. But there is always something good in life. You hear me? There's always something good."

"Such as?" Her eyes started going dim again, but he grabbed her chin and held her eyes to his.

"The green pastures. The light of sunlight from the heights of the trees. The yellow flowers which give you your name." Her eyes lit up during the last one.

"You... you remembered?"

"I seldom forget." He admitted, keeping the stern look. "Just... don't forget that there are those who love and care for you. And when I mean you, I mean the real you. Not some shell of a Zombie." He pulled away and looked down the road. "I'm sorry the road is longer than I thought. We should be there in hopefully less than an hour." He then wrapped an arm around her, and pushed her along with him on the road towards the town. 'What in the hells was that?' He shouted at himself inwardly and embarrassed. 'Just be glad she probably won't remember a word of that...'

For Lydia, that would be a moment that, to her final breath, she never forgot. True, he had not been talking about HIM loving and caring for her. But the words struck a chord in her soul, and refused to leave. Her mind grabbed onto it, and her thoughts immediately thought of her homeland. Her brothers, mother, dearly departed father, the smell of the grass in the morning dew... She felt foolish for her earlier words after several minutes of quiet thinking, but 'a necromancer doesn't need to know that' she concluded in her own mind. She held on to that on her own for a long while.

It was only about a couple minutes later that they finally saw the first torchlight of the town at the top of a hill. Green grass grew in the small area outside of the town walls, and it was something beautiful for both of the travelers to see. They hurried forward and soon found themselves at the palisade gates. It was a small town, maybe only about 200 or so people, but they were the remnants of a great empire, if the Wizards had allowed them to know it. A small wooden tower stood above above the palisade wall, and armed guards stood at their post. Zombie attacks weren't unheard of in this part of the world after all.

"Who goes there?" Said the watchman in a softer voice, controlling it so that only the people on the road could hear.

"Gerald, son of Gor, son of Gorbash." Gerald replied, stating it firmly. "And this is Lydia, Daughter of the House of Roses. We're looking for a place to stay for the night."

"Have you been bit or scratched?" Came the call.

"No. But I suppose you'll be checking us anyways."

"True enough. Can't be too careful. We've had liars before." The watchman turned beside him. "The quarantine locks boy. Do I have to do everything myself?" A small door opened on the left side of the gate after about a minute. "Through there." The watchman said. Gerald gave him a bow, and led Lydia through the gate, shutting the door behind him. It locked with a strong clang, and they looked around their place of rest.

They were in a locked cage. The door behind them and a door in front of them were the only ways in or out. A long stone bench lay on the ground on their left, and a set of torn blankets lay on the floor to their right. "Well, come on then. Have to check all of you." Came a woman's voice. On the left side of the cage stood a woman in dark grey clothing. Her rich voice sang through the bars, and seemed to lie instead of stating her older age and her experience.

"I'll turn away for the moment." Gerald said, turning and looking away from the women. "Lydia, I think you'd better strip for the nice woman."

"In this cold?" Lydia's voice was warmer, and immediately Gerald liked it more, even if it still sounded exhausted and depressed.

"It's just for a minute my dear." The woman called. "Have to make sure you weren't bit by those pesky night crawlers."

Lydia turned towards Gerald. "If you peek, I'll kill you."

"I wasn't planning on it." Gerald replied, keeping his back to her. "But you better give me the same courtesy."

It was awkward for Lydia to undress. She wasn't used to the clothes, and felt it strange to strip for someone she didn't know. But she did so, and the woman on the other side looked her over after getting closer to the cage. "Very good." She said. "Better get dressed quickly. It's cold enough, even with your gentleman's coat over your shoulders. Especially when you have no meat on your bones!" Lydia and the woman chatted lightly as she quickly got dressed. Mostly about the weather and how cold it was. "Alright, your turn sir."

"As my lovely lady commands." He replied. Lydia looked away quickly, and didn't turn around until he was finished and dressed again. "They're clean." The woman told a young boy who promptly unlocked the lock to the door. They entered the town and thanked the woman.

"It's just my job." She replied. "Town healer and all that."

"I'd expect nothing else." Gerald said before whispering softly, "Witch."

Her eyes narrowed. "How did you-"

"You've been using your craft recently." He said quietly. "Your craft doesn't leave much of a trace, which is why most of the other races think it's weak, but you and I know better." He smiled. "Is this town friendly to... powers?" He asked quietly, as soon as the boy was out of earshot.

"I wish." She replied, looking around. "But enough of that. I trust you can do the same?"

"I've learned some of your arts and more my good woman." Gerald said, grabbing her hand and kissing it. "Dor." He whispered, and warmth came from his lips and heated the woman entirely. She shot him a shocked look, but then smiled.

"Well bless my soul. May the gods bless your journeys, Traveler of the Long Walks."

"And yours, Lady of Good Health. It is just a pity I am not a Traveler of the Long Walks." She smiled at that, then turned and walked away.

"The inn shouldn't be too far off now." He said with a grin. "But I hope you have some coin Lydia. Lime fleeced most of the last of my silver coins..."