Chương 495: AF Chapter 494 – The End of the Cursed Dead

There were cheers from everyone all around as the Mick offered his hand to his uncle, the two Black Aluvians looking like peas in a pod now. MacNaill took it and sat up, his basic robe was yanked down over his head, and to the applause of all the reborn officers, he got to his feet, wobbling for a second before muscle memory trumped bone memory, and he took his first few hesitant steps. Then, overcome like so many others, he turned and bowed to the Altar, giving thanks to Aru for seeing fit to allow him to return.

There was absolutely no distance from that: you absolutely knew the god was there, helping guide your soul back, rebuild your body, and approving of this return from undeath to death. You also knew that He thought you deserved the chance, and that had an incredible effect on just about anyone. This wasn't a Deathstone and its uncaring and violently draining rebuilding of your body.

This was a Resurrection, and it was the start of a new life, a new day, something to treasure, because you weren't jumping out of your grave this time. On the other hand, you got to taste the sweet air, see the sun and sky and clouds and grass and colors and touch and feel without the gloam and gloom of a cursed undead existence shading everything and everyone about you. You know, the little things that made life about living.

Silence fell as the Mick and Bunita escorted MacNaill off to the side, and everyone turned to face Master Ben Ten. His living students helped him doff the white and blue yoroi armor he had worn for so long. As it was removed from him, it cracked and broke from a thousand remembered blows, to be restored at dusk or when he died, whatever came first.

His bones laid bare, he stepped down to the altar in formal silence, climbing smoothly atop it with clicks of bone on cool Blessed stone, only the faintest of sizzlings acknowledging his undead status as he laid down. In his hand was a carved Heart from a Diamond Sovereign, long Energized to Life Diamond by me and waiting for this day. He handed it to me, and I took it in hand as I brought my other down to the bones of his spine.

Positive energy flared, and precise pressure of Find the Flaw shattered the bone, breaking his undeath and Curse momentarily. The first words of Resurrection captured his departing spirit before it could wait in limbo, and the spell began its work. He definitely had the strongest soul out of all of those I'd worked with, the most vital and spiritual, a man who knew his heart and was shining Silver.

He'd likely be a Paladin in any other Realm, but here was a sword-saint whose life was going to rise on a new spiritual path as he returned to life and the living. The magic thrummed and flowed. A heart gathered in swirls of Silver, and skin raced across creaking bones. The Light from above hummed and fed the Resurrection as tight bones were wrapped with flesh and blood, swelling in size and depth under the soft white cloth of modesty, and a man was returned from where the walking dead had been one last time.

A heartbeat. A long, slow, controlled inhalation, different from most of the others. Newly reformed hands twitched, currently bare of calluses, and the dark eyes of the Sho kensai before me opened slowly, looking up at the sky and the clouds and the sun. Without any reservations whatsoever, tears began to flow. His students shouted and converged, but his dark eyes found mine, and it was to me that he offered his hand. Nobody said anything, although doubtless they were vying to see who could have clasped it first.

But I, I'd brought them all back, and the job was done. I nodded at him, unable to hide my own relief and fatigue at the weight of this task being finally removed from me, and I anchored him without need and hauled him upright. A cheer rose, hooting and hollering, as the last of the Cursed Dead rose from the altar, reborn into their own New Day.

I stepped back and lifted my eyes to Aru, thanking Him for this moment of understanding, of unstintingly backing these people who likely had burned through more Faith than it took to restore them to life… but who would pay that Faith back tenfold over the course of their new lives, in reverence, acknowledgment, and service to the Sun of Suns.

Glory came down in counterpoint, a wave of Karma for seeing this boring, repetitious, and demanding task through to the end, a completed Quest of great magnitude and power, the kind of task that was worthy of an archcleric… or a Master Archtheurge. Pointedly, it was exactly enough to take my base Cleric, Druid, and Inquisitor Levels to Nine, something I'd not done before taking Seventeen so I could access Nines and accelerate my Resurrections per day. Well enough. Momentous things, momentous rewards.

I'd invested the Karma from recent operations into my other Classes, opting to save any reward from completing this for these Classes, and my own faith was returned to me for doing so. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Thousands of Resurrections with no material rewards was definitely a Quest worth giving rewards for.

"Warriors all, let us return to Mayoi. The final Ceremony is waiting for us, and the celebration afterwards. Gather your mana, feed the Circles, and we will be off." Crown was raised up as stone Circles rose gleaming all around, encapsulating the newly living men and women, and those who'd come to see them returned to life.

Mana was given instantly, all the temporary Foci flared to life, and the Teleportation Ritual took us all away, back to Mayoi, to the thousands gathered to greet their commanders, and the final, final end of a long and dutiful nightmare, finally overcome by the great and the faithful.

The celebrating, drinking, and dancing was going to go on to well into the night. The revived men and women naturally had huge appetites and a hunger to experience life again, and if this wasn't a reason to celebrate, there were no reasons at all. Still, there were pockets of quiet in the rambunctious city. Thousands of people of all races, especially the Fiuns, had come to join in the joy of returning to the living again.

The first Viamontians had become fully human again, and House Nenati was formally establishing itself among the living. Some were rejoining the Bellenesse, with their permission, and others were working out divisions of Clans under the House in other areas, based on their preferences. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there were a lot of the Nenati who decided that being uninhibited conquerors and gloryswords for the nobility wasn't quite their thing anymore.

Raising a new generation and re-establishing their numbers was deemed much more important, and so there wasn't a huge infusion of angry, eager blood into the military, ready to go a-hacking and lose the life they'd already lost once. They could deal with the fear of dying. The fear of being slaved to the System again as just another Summons? Not so much.

The sun was heading for the mountains to the west of Mayoi as I grabbed a few precious minutes of quiet under a tree in one of the shrine-parks that dotted the recovered city. I was perhaps a little unsurprised when I saw Master Ben Ten duck rather hurriedly into the same park and close the gate quietly. He slumped in a show of exhaustion I was quite familiar with, took a couple deep breaths as some revelers ran past outside, and turned around to look about. He froze when he saw me under the tree there.

I just smiled and waved him over next to me. Chuckling and shaking his head, he nevertheless stepped over with some energy, and half-fell into place next to me, not touching, also facing the setting sun. We said nothing for a good ten minutes as it came down, painting the sky in glorious red, oranges, and yellows, like a painting made just for us and this day. If I'd sent up a little magic to put clouds in the right spots, well, hey, I wasn't telling anyone.

"I could not appreciate Aethra's Salute before. Please gift it to me now, Magos," he asked quietly, staring fixedly at the coming dusk in rapture. I nodded once, waiting for the moment before murmuring softly the Words to Salute Mithar's daughter, the Rider of the Winds.

"The Night Wind comes, the World now breathes deep, The Shadows grow strong, and Song falls to silence steep. Eyes in the Darkness wait, yet the Rider stands not alone. Let the Clouds pass beneath the Silver Moon's embrace Where rest the weary, and dream of the wind at dawn." The last rays of the Sun fell beneath the horizon, Dusk Renewal came sweeping in to let us know the advent of the day was over, and the night had returned, as it always would.

But the dawn would follow, and there would be eyes watching against the night.

"It is like seeing the sun set for the first time, with living eyes," the Sho kensai said quietly. Giri, his Katana, the only thing remaining of his undeath and life before, glittered quietly at his side.

"I can feel the day pass yet, on levels I never could before, only when undead…"

"Dark and fell enlightenments can yet rise to greater things," I agreed quietly.

"By the words of your peers, the first Salute to Aru when returned to life is awesome."

"I would be there with you to witness it," he nodded.

"I do not think I will be able to sleep this whole night and more." That was fairly typical, too.

"You have a busy day tomorrow," I agreed calmly.

"I will be there to begin it with you. You have chosen your companions?" Many of this last group qualified to offer their Blades to the Lost Light, and had long desired to do so, held back because, well, undead. Of course, only nine at a time could claim Fires, but the Blackfire Stones had long been gathered and dispersed to those eligible as such things became available. Scold was diligent about his service in Tenkarrdun, and was visited often to let him know we appreciated it.

Harlune often dropped in on him to chat about some of the machinery and maintenance and upgrades the intelligent Golum was performing there. Being treated like a respected colleague had done wonders for Scold's attitude, and the complete lack of treating him like a disposable minion had helped considerably, too.

"Yes, we have long been eager to take up the Oath and serve properly," Master Ben Ten said.

"I understand the obligations are more spiritual than delineated, of course."

"Mmm. The historical Order was probably far more rigid and defined in its traditions and codes, but there are many worthy souls with many different ideas about their obligations. If the Lost Light accepts them, who are we to judge? They have their place.

"Kris is plenty happy to have multiple Orders within the Knighthood. As long as all are considered Knights and understand their obligations, how they go about their duties is fine as long as they satisfy the spirit of the Lost Light. Good is not Law. Rigid hierarchies are fine for some folk, but not necessary for Good to do the work that it does."

"I see," he nodded slowly.

"And this experience is not like, ah, herding cats?"

"Forgive me for this insight, but I believe you are comparing the experience to your management of the Celestial Hand to this?" I asked lightly, and he blushed slightly.

"This is not a detracting of the professed goals of the Faction you founded, but you had an initial core of devoted believers in the mission and goals of your organization, and then a whole bunch of people giving lip service to those goals in order to advance their own agendas.

"The Lost Light is not so constrained in the reading of hearts."