Chương 59: The relic

Thomas' quick footsteps and the clanking of plate mail were distant and muffled. The flicker of their torch was barely visible down the long straight tunnel. Aaron and Giddeon climbed down the rope first so they could help Tim. The ledge was about twice as high up as Aaron was tall, so an athletic person could probably dangle from the edge and drop down, but it would make a lot of noise. They all managed to get to the bottom with little fuss.

Thomas and his men were still off in the distance searching for the hounds, which Giddeon probably dissipated long ago. They ventured down the path to the left, deeper into the mine. They moved quickly at first when the campfire helped them to see, but slowed down as they lost the light. Giddeon and Paige didn't put up another light orb. It would have risked them getting seen by the guards. Their best option was to move slowly and carefully in the darkness and wait for their eyes to adjust.

"You are going to need to learn to kill if you're going to survive out here," Giddeon whispered. His tone was stern, but there was an aura of sincerity about him. Aaron looked behind before responding. The campfire was a distant speck behind them, and there was nothing but darkness around. He could just about make out the jagged rocky walls around him. This tunnel was at least ten times wider than the smaller one they just travelled through.

Reassured that no one was within earshot, Aaron whispered back, "I have killed and I will again. But only as a last resort." A wave of sadness swept over Aaron as he remembered the guard he had stabbed upstairs. The corruption from the Mana Hound talon in his dagger would almost certainly have killed him by now.

"Your morals will be the death of you, and possibly your brother as well. We aren't in your cosy city anymore. Out here, you're either a predator or prey," he replied. Aaron forced out a reluctant smile back at the old man. He knew he meant well and he was probably right. A month ago, he was completely against any form of violence. In fact, any violent act risked him being thrown out of the city as an oathbreaker. Now, he was fighting for his life against beasts and men alike.

Deep down, he felt killing was wrong, but he would do whatever needed to be done to the guards in this mine. He reassured himself that it was because they were evil men after him and Tim, and he was defending himself. Although he would still refuse to take an innocent life for his own gain. It wasn't long before they arrived at a wooden wall spanning the path. A makeshift wooden door, which looked like it wouldn't be out of place on a barn, was wedged between a tall wooden wall.

The wall was made out of planks of wood nailed together, like a fort. It towered a few feet above Aaron's head, and metal spikes were scattered across the top. A man with a roll of parchment on a board of wood sat on a chair outside the door. He wore plate armour, but by the relaxed look on his face, was there to take down names and document visits to the mine rather than defend anything. The man didn't look up as the party approached him.

He must not have been expecting any hostile visitors, as the entrance was well guarded and the length of the tunnel was patrolled. This was unfortunate for him and a fatal mistake as Giddeon sunk his dagger into his throat. He went to let out a cry for help, but Giddeon quickly covered his mouth with his palm. He manoeuvred behind the man and tilted his head back, opening up the deep horizontal gash on his neck.

Jets of blood spewed out from the wound, spraying three paces in front of him and landing at Aaron's feet. The kill was brutal, but necessary. Once the guard realised who they were, he would have almost certainly attacked them or called for help. Thomas and his men were far away, but probably not too far to hear shouting. The guard's eyes rolled up into the back of his skull. Giddeon let go of him, and he slumped forwards onto his face.

Aaron winced at the loud thud echoing around the walls and prayed that it didn't carry down past the campfire. Without wasting any time, Giddeon led the way through the large door. It was a few feet taller than Aaron and wide enough for three of them to fit through at once. Strangely, there was little evidence of rot on the wood. There was just a tinge of green on the surface. It must have been put up recently, or regularly replaced. Through the door was a large round chamber which opened up to the right.

It was nothing like Aaron remembered. When he and Tim were children, they would play in the long abandoned mine, unbeknownst to their parents at the time. They would run up and down the long, wide tunnel and dig at the walls with chisels they found lying around. The day Tim was cursed, they had uncovered part of a shiny metallic object. After Aaron dared Tim to touch it, he started to get unwell, and they stopped going back down the mine.

The peacekeepers, who presumably worked for Harrold, had completely excavated the area around it. There was a large circular pit about two feet lower than the rest of the path. The pit formed a circle with the relic in the centre. It would probably take a few hundred paces to walk the whole way around the edge of it. In the middle of the pit was the relic— a shiny metal staff resting in a dip on a plateau of rock.

"A metal staff? I've never seen anything like it," Paige said. She was gawking at the fine-looking weapon so much that her jaw may as well have been wide open.

"They are popular in the Southern Expanse," Giddeon said.

"You've been to the Southern Expanse!?" Aaron said in disbelief. Travel was strictly prohibited and well enforced by the navy. Giddeon didn't respond, but the answer was obvious. The man smuggled in and out of the city unseen with ease. It wasn't difficult to believe he'd travelled to other continents.

"This must have been the relic that cursed me all those years ago," Tim said, as he approached the staff, wide-eyed. Alex put his hand on Tim's shoulder, holding him back, snapping him out of his trance-like state. He scowled at the bard and bared his teeth at him in an animalistic manner before correcting himself.

"Sorry." A wave of sadness ran over his face, and he took a step back. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Aaron stepped forward to inspect it more closely. The metal shaft was in immaculate condition without a single dent or smear on its surface. This was striking compared to the surrounding rock, which looked brittle and had black fracture lines running through it, similar to those in a corrupted wound.

The top of the staff formed a ball which was larger than the shaft by the width of a finger. On closer inspection, the ball was engraved into the shape of a skull. Aaron took a step back in horror.

"This is the weapon of a necromancer!" He'd known deep down that this was Necromancy ever since he sensed and followed the curse. But the realisation when he saw the skull hit him hard. The magic corrupting the mine and creating these creatures was the same as the magic in Aaron's soul.

"Just as I suspected," Giddeon said. The wooden border around the relic dampened the echoes, and they were speaking at normal volume again.

"So how do we destroy it?" Aaron asked. Giddeon smiled out of one corner of his mouth. This was probably the second time Aaron remembered seeing the grumpy bastard smile.

"It's metal. Let's see if it melts!" Without a heartbeat of hesitation, Giddeon shot hundreds of tiny spheres of flame out of his hands. They hovered over the staff and swarmed it like a hive of bees, completely engulfing it in flames. The heat was monumental. Aaron had to shield his face from the glow and take a step back. Hopefully the guards weren't paying attention because the entire ceiling glowed orange from the flames. Suddenly, everything went silent.

All Aaron could hear was a high-pitched ringing in his ears as a sharp pain stabbed through his head. He bent over and clamped his eyes shut, holding his head in agony.

"AAAROOOOOON," a deep voice echoed through his head, but the echoes grew louder each time instead of fading out. The sound was intense and all-consuming. Aaron's vision went black, and he lost balance. He had no idea if he was lying or standing. The only thing he could feel was agony. It felt like he was dying, or the entity was making him wish for death. He was being tortured until suddenly it stopped. Aaron opened his eyes. It felt like he had awoken into a dream. He wasn't in the cave anymore.

He was somewhere else. It was impossible to tell where, except that it was outside. A cold breeze brushed his cheek, and trees rustled up above. He couldn't see more than a couple of paces ahead of him. Everything was enveloped in a thick black smoke. When he looked down, the floor beneath him didn't look real. It resembled grass and dirt, but dissipated into whirls of smoke as he stepped over it and then reformed again. A figure emerged from the smoke ahead of him. The same thing from his dream back in the city.

It wore a dark cloak completely covering its body from head to toe. The hood was hung over its head in such a way that the face was completely covered in shadow.

"Aaron, I've been keeping a close eye on you," the deep, raspy voice said. It spoke in whispers, except they weren't quiet at all.

"Show yourself!" Aaron shouted. It was like trying to speak underwater. His voice barely carried and only a muted hum came out. The entity seemed to understand, though. A creepy whispered laugh shook Aaron's mind, like a rattlesnake's tail. The entity pulled down its hood, revealing a pasty, youthful face with long silver hair. His features were sharp, but in a pleasant-looking way. He gave a warm and charming smile to Aaron, who stood in shock.

"You're…." Aaron was stumped for words.

"Young, powerful, charming, I know!" He said, grinning back at Aaron with perfect teeth.

"Have you tried Augmentation yet? Our kind have the power to strengthen, perfect and even remodel our bodies and the bodies of other creatures. This is but a fraction of my abilities," the man said, still whispering directly into Aaron's mind. His mouth remained in a stiff, toothy grin, not moving an inch.

"A Necromancer… I was going to say a Necromancer," Aaron said after finally finding the words.

"Yes, you're right. I am one of few remaining with this power. We are a dying breed. Sorely misunderstood and hunted for centuries," he said. Aaron didn't trust him at all. He hadn't offered his name and was only speaking to him in secrecy.

"What do you want from me?" Aaron asked.

"Why are you attacking me and holding me here?"

"Holding you," the man chuckled, "you have the power to leave. You just have to use it."

"Talk plainly!" Aaron demanded. The man sighed as if bored or disappointed.

"I want to make a deal. For your brother's life."

"You did this to him?!" Aaron shouted. He felt rage simmering up inside him as he remembered the source of the curse.

"No, but my curse did. You see, not everyone is capable of greatness. Some of us are born different. My curse is a gift for the right person. And I didn't make you dig up and touch my sceptre. Nor did I force you to recklessly experiment on your brother with healing magic," he mocked.

"I didn't experiment!" Aaron snapped, "I'm a trained healer, and I did what any of us should for our patients." A loud, raspy chuckle bellowed into Aaron's ears.

"Then why did you sneak around and hide in a closet? Your actions have consequences."

"Just tell me what you want in exchange for my brother's life."

"It's simple. Kill Giddeon, the Crystalblade," he said. He hissed slightly as he said Giddeon's name, as if he despised even saying the words.

"And if I do this, will you take back my brother's curse?" Aaron asked.

"Yes, you have my word. If the Crystalblade dies, your brother will be spared," he said. Although his word was meaningless to Aaron. As far as he was concerned, this was an evil entity spawning corrupted creatures and cursing people for no clear reason, unless he did it to try and make another Necromancer. Maybe Aaron was the reason? Aaron suspected the man was trapped somewhere, perhaps even in the staff itself. Why else would a powerful entity request the help of a novice to kill a master?

Maybe he was desperate but trying to appear powerful. He could use this to his advantage.

"I am only a novice, and he is a master. I can't kill him. Why do you need my help if you are so powerful?"

"I am powerful enough," he hissed. Aaron had clearly bruised his ego.

"I will show you a taste of true power!" The man raised his arm and a decayed skeletal hand appeared out of his cloak as the long black sleeve dropped down below it. A blue mist of mana swirled out of his bony hand and into Aaron's chest. It was freezing cold and painful, but it felt familiar. He was transfusing mana into Aaron. He had no idea this was even possible for Necromancers. Aaron was so overflowing with mana that it was painful.

His eyes were burning and felt like they were bulging out of his head, and his head felt like his brain was expanding within his skull. [Teratogenesis talent increased] Augmentation Enhancement: Rank 2"What? I didn't even choose that!" Aaron said, gasping at the display of power. He was starting to become worried; he didn't want this entity choosing how his mana was invested for him. These were irreversible acts shaping how his magic worked.

"I am a master of Necromancy. My will is king," the man laughed.

"Open your tome." Aaron looked ahead, confused, as he wasn't even wearing his backpack in this reality, but in an instant, his tome phased into existence. He put his hands out to catch it and opened it up to the first page, where it showed his class. Class: Necromancer Rank: Journeyman [New talent available]