The first thing she remembered was a drumming noise.
It was faint at the beginning, almost inaudible even in the vast, isolated silence that surrounded her. The beat started steady but with each rumble, each heavy pounding, its loudness grew and grew as if its source was moving closer to where she was. It filled her as she unsuccessfully covered her ears with her hands to muffle the sounds. She soon realized, a little too late, that the sound wasn't drawing nearer to her, instead, she was being whisked away towards its root. Its pull rhythmically became stronger the louder the drumming got.
As the tug of the invisible force amplified, her other senses simultaneously woke up from its prolonged slumber. Her nose registered a foul, rotten smell; her mouth tasted metallic and vile; and a paralyzing cold blossomed from her chest, spreading outward in quick successions mimicking the rapid drumming in her ears. The weightlessness she had been accustomed to slowly left her, and the familiar pull of gravity she didn't know she'd been craving for took hold of her entirety. She felt the sensation of free falling. To where, she didn't know.
Finally, with a sharp streak of light slicing through the darkness, the abrupt return of her eyesight, her lungs expanded and she drew a huge breath. Her first in two years.
Next came an excruciating pain she had never experienced before. Every breath she took scraped its way in and out of her lungs. Each movement, each slight turn of the joints and muscles, hurt like she was being bludgeoned with a mace. She wanted to cry, to scream, but all that was coming out of her mouth was a peculiar white smoke. A sign of the Resurrection Ritual done right.
"Welcome back, Lilian." Said a man's voice.
She started to feel cold and her skin recognized the sensation of moisture...no, water. She was soaking wet. She had been lying on a shallow side of a quagmire, momentarily bobbing on the surface of murky brown waters; until the intensity of life coming back jolted her into a sitting position. She was able to see, between the water and mud streaking down her face, the dark midnight sky above her and though no moon could be seen, a huge bonfire roared on the shore a few meters from her feet. It was unlike any bonfire as it was burning green and purple flames, casting ominous shadows to the thick and equally eerie woods surrounding her.
She would've ran away at such a frightful sight if she had any control over her limbs, now uncontrollably flailing in sporadic spasms on her sides, all over her, and beneath the water. Her whole body shook and shivered, creating huge ripples and splashes in the water gathering around her waist. She tried digging her fingers on the muddy substrate in an effort to steady herself but she was rendered impotent with pain. Her face winced in agony and although the pain seemed enough to make her pass out, she remained conscious, feeling every single fiber of her being, every organ, every vessel of blood inside her, reawaken from death.
Her mind was a gaping blank, void of memories and recollections, and her perplexing current state didn't offer anything. No clue to help explain why she was in the middle of the woods, naked and drenched in what was becoming clearer to be a swamp. In spite of this, she knew in the deepest pit of her soul she wasn't supposed to be here.
"Rise." The man's voice thundered again, revealing that its owner was somewhere behind the bonfire, "Rise, my daughter! Reclaim the powers Death has stolen from you!"
His voice resonated a soothing sensation to her aching body. "Walk among the living..." he continued, and slowly, her hurt numbed off to become only physical fatigue, not trauma, and her shaking subsided to a halt.
"Come back to me!" He hollered.
She was suddenly compelled to stand up and walk towards the voice. It healed her aches and, feeling empty and devoid of spiritual substance, her body responded with an unrestrained and primal longing for the person the voice belonged to. Her arms found strength to push herself up and her feet found footing beneath the mud.
"Come to me child, come to the bringer of your reawakening."
She closed her eyes and once again felt the words crawl through her skin, restoring what had been damaged, what had been rotten, what had been dead. She heaved and exhaled a smoky breath, the last traces of the afterlife leaving her. This hazy breath traveled through the air between her and the bonfire, and when it touched the heat, the green and purple fire parted, letting her have a good look at the face of the Necromancer for the first time. The intensity of her exhalation a moment ago matched the gasp she let out in surprise.
He looked old, but not ancient. Perhaps aged, like fine wine. He had tousled dark hair, with curls flowing untamed to his shoulders. His eyes were mesmerising obsidian orbs, and flecks of light from the bonfire danced wildly in it. His face was strong and defined, his features tough as granite. He was beautiful and frightening, in the way berries of the nightshade temptingly shine through lost children's hungry eyes. His smile was proud and triumphant; and it longingly called out to her, too, drawing her towards him. Still, in those eyes, in his smile, she saw the evil that he really was. He may have brought her back to life, but this man is deadly.
"Walk." he whispered. There was no way she could've heard him in the stretching distance between the shore he was perched on and the mud she was treading, but his voice came clear and commanding.
Unbidden, her legs followed in slow and clumsy steps. Water and mud dripped from her body as she inched towards dry land. By the time she reached the edge of the water, the coldness of her wet body and the cool night breeze contrasted with the bonfire radiating an unnatural heat. Tongues of purple and green fire forebode to lick at her cheeks. Before she could step further into the fire, however, a swift force knocked her down to the ground.
"Gotcha!" She heard a person's voice come from the thick, heavy mess of fabric pinning her to the ground. It was a person dressed in huge robes, its face concealed in a hood. The stranger quickly slipped something around her neck and uttered "Consilio" before standing up and pulling her back up to her feet. She grimaced as the hooded figure tightened its grip on her forearm.
"Lucille, no!" The man screamed, his angry face rising over the fire. "Leave her be!" he screamed and a ball of electricity flew towards them, hitting the stranger on its left side. The stranger cried in pain and shoved its hood back, revealing a middle-aged woman's features. Before the girl could fully see her face, another ball of electricity propelled in their direction.
"Adamas Aer!" The woman called out and raised her other arm, the one not hit by the energy ball. At once, the air around them swooshed and formed an invisible barrier deferring the energy ball. Without waiting for another blow, she quickly grabbed the girl around the stomach, knocking the air out of the frail girl, and carried her to run for cover in the safety of the woods.
"You'll pay for this, Lucille!" The Necromancer roared. The girl saw him vanish from behind the bonfire and materialize to the spot where she was standing a moment ago. The air barrier made him unable to follow, but his wrath seeped through it. Pure rage oozed from his eyes, now completely black. "You'll pay dearly for crossing me!"
The flames from the bonfire grew bigger and bigger until it engulfed the Necromancer, eating away his human flesh, exposing a charred skeletal form standing in his place. It didn't kill him, and he didn't seem to be in any distress by it. Instead, it seemed like he was absorbing the fire, taking in its heat and light as if he was gathering himself among the scattered darkness.
Inside the woods, where the trees and foliage obscured the girl's view of the becoming horror that was the Necromancer, only a resounding explosion reached her. She took it to mean that the barrier was no more and the Necromancer was in pursuit. She shut her eyes tightly, anticipating an attack to the woman carrying her, when the woman suddenly stopped running and leaned on the trunk of a nearby tree.
The weight of the girl, along with the heavy robes she was wearing made it impossible for the woman the Necromancer called Lucille to run any further. She stripped the robes down to the shirt and jeans she was wearing underneath, and wrapped it around the mud covered girl in an attempt to keep her warm. With her legs losing its strength, the girl almost fell to the ground if Lucille wasn't so quick to catch her. She held her tight and though Lucille's breathing was ragged, her grip was strong and steady. She helped the girl crouch and sat her on a protruding tree root.
"It's okay, Lil," Lucille said between her panting , "I'm here now." She crouched down and planted a quick kiss on the girl's forehead, "Oh Lilian, my darling."
Before she forget that they were still on the battleground, she stood up and quietly observed their surroundings. "He's still around, we have to keep going."
She offered a hand to help the girl stand up but the girl just glared at her, too weak to move a muscle. The girl willed herself up, and when it seemed like she was alright on her feet, a sudden nausea washed over her.
"Lilian!" Lucille cried as the girl fainted and fell limp in her arms. She held her tight and checked the girl's pulse, her chest moving with short breaths. She's still alive, just unconscious. "That son of a bitch did a good job." Lucille muttered to herself. "Don't worry Lil, he's never gonna take you away from me again. You're safe."
Before succumbing to the overwhelming need to sleep, a thought passed through the girl's mind, You've got the wrong girl. I'm not Lilian, I'm Rebecca.