AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The necromancer,” Taria murmurs beside me. “Arluin.”
I lift my head in a small nod. “That night, he had a powerful amulet hanging around his neck. The darkness which poured out of it was unlike any other.” I finally tear my eyes from the lake, instead glancing across at Natharius. “Even yours.”
I shudder in memory of how terrifying that dark presence felt. I should have known that it couldn’t be Arluin’s alone; his father’s felt a fraction of its power.
Is the amulet responsible for corrupting his soul? For poisoning the last traces of his humanity?
No, I can’t think like that. Arluin is long gone. The amulet alone isn’t responsible for his actions. Only a monster would seek such a wicked artifact.
Yet a part of me longs to believe that the amulet and the Lich Lord’s soul are entirely to blame. Not the man I once loved.
I shove away those thoughts, not allowing them to take a hold over me.
Natharius is silent, staring into the lake’s depths. What does he see inside the water? Does he also see images of the destruction of his home? Though he claimed he sold the souls of his entire kingdom to the Void King in exchange for power, I wonder if there’s more to the truth. Like the Lich Lord.
Taria stands with her hands clasped behind her back, staring up at the branches above as though they may offer her some guidance. Caya is a few paces away from us on a boulder and gazes down at Juron’s sword, her hands stiff as they clutch it.
“What does this mean, for Arluin to have a portion of the Lich Lord’s soul?” I whisper, turning to Natharius.
“I might know what this necromancer of yours seeks in Gerazad.”
“What?”
“When he attacked Nolderan, did he seek anything in particular?”
“Death? Destruction? Revenge?”
Natharius shakes his head, sending his long, silver hair tumbling through the wind. “No. I mean an object. A ring.” He raises his hand, drawing on the shadows. Dark magic hums inside his palm. It swirls, taking on the silhouette of a ring.
Though the phantom ring has no color, I would recognize it anywhere. I’ve known it for my entire life.
“That’s . . .” Grief chokes my throat, making it almost impossible to force out words. “My father’s.”
“This ring has belonged to every Grandmage for as long as Nolderan has stood.” He closes his hand and the shadowy ring disappears. The dark magic drifts into the wind. “When your father died, what happened to his ring? Did the necromancer take it?”
I lift my head in a feeble nod. Father always wore it, so it would have been on his finger when he was risen as a wight. Since he’s now in Arluin’s clutches, the ring must be too. But I don’t know what use Arluin has for it, and it certainly didn’t seem important at the time. Not when my city was being destroyed and everyone I knew was being murdered.
Natharius lets out a heavy sigh. “I suspected as much. Then it begins again.”
“What begins again?”
“Only the destruction of Imyria,” he says. Despite the effort he makes to look unbothered by his own words, shadows lurk in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask. By now, Caya has left her rock to join us. She stands beside Taria, her gaze on Natharius.
“I am certain the necromancers are acting under the will of Kazhul Nightbringer, whose soul communicates with them through his amulet. And it seems they already have one of the three rings necessary to break the Lich Lord’s seal and unleash his wrath upon this world.”
Caya frowns. “And there is another ring located in Gerazad? That’s why the necromancers travel there?”
“Correct,” Natharius replies. “A thousand years ago, Lagartha the Old was one of the three sorcerers who sealed the Lich Lord inside his frozen tomb. She was of the White Rock Tribe, who made their home in the area that Gerazad now stands today.”
“And so, they seek the ring of Lagartha the Old?” I ask.
“I would bet my soul on it.”
If Natharius is right, that means Arluin annihilated Nolderan not only to avenge his father but also for this dark purpose. And as it stands, he’s on track to succeeding with his heinous plan.
Vengeance, I can understand. It’s what fuels me to keep drawing breath, to keep taking one step after another. But I can’t understand what motivates Arluin to free the Lich Lord and let him obliterate Imyria. What if the amulet’s power has corrupted him, warping his own ambitions with Kazhul Nightbringer’s?
