Arythia: Into the Flames

Chapter 4

Upon arriving, Wystir greets me. She notices something has gone wrong. As do the other Mystics. Sigurd, Jeremik, Polok, Wulgruff, Duurendir, Zelft, and Ferray.

They have all gathered around Ruundel and I.

"The war is coming closer," Ruundel explains.

It's as if the others know what he means. They have this sort of 'Sense of forethought' that crosses their eyes. It only seems to appear when their theories are correct

"Well I'm sure you can give more detail than that," claims Zelft.

"It was between the elves and the dwarves. A pile of elven bodies was found dead by the Forest of Veliimia. Part of the Earth had been scorched. Arythia put the fire out."

"The elves lost the fight?" Asks Duurendir.
"Yes. I've no clue why, however. The King had sent his best men. All were elite soldiers. The dwarves have something. There is no way they can defeat a legion of elite elven soldiers." Says Ruundel.
"You think they'll bring us into the war?" I ask.
They had not realized i was still standing there. For some odd reason they keep me out of important conversations such as this one.

They seem to exchange worried looks and a look of regret had flashed across a few faces. But soon the silence had been broken by Wystir meowing at me. I'd realized she had been trying to speak to me this whole time but I was too distracted to listen to her invading my thoughts. I look over at the sleek black werecat and let her into my mind.

I sense necromancy is at play.

My eyes widen at this thought. I'd heard a bit of necromancy before from the others. All I truly know is dark magic is to be untouched. It is an unruly form of magic that can drive a mage to insanity.

"Wystir claims she senses necromancy!" I exclaim.

Their faces darken at first, then Ferray acquires a look of befuddlememt

"That werecat... you can hear it speaking to you?" Asks Ferray.
"Well of course! I can speak to all the animals. Can you not?" I reply.
"Only few have the power of speaking through the mind," says Zelft.
"Were you also the one who soothed the mother werecat?" says Duurendir.
"Yes. However, had Sigurd not cast his first spell I would not have been able to," I replied humbly.

I felt particularly proud of myself. The mystics seemed impressed with my abilities in magic.

"Back to the matter at hand," continues Sigurd, "The curosity of the elves' demise eludes me. We must go back to the lifeless and undergo further examination."

"Agreed," claims Ruundel.

And they all venture out of High Tower. Leaving only Wystir and I to protect our home.

I scoff to myself. Necromancy. Malevolent and quite vulgar, I must say. Dealing with dead bodies and such. Makes me ill just thinking about