Hungry Necromancer - Chapter 102

“Look at you…” A voice thrums in my head, bouncing about, echoing and shaking my focus.

Who is it? Who is it now? Who stands in my way?

My head bounces around on my neck, all I can see around me is the dead, red stained snow and many displaced limbs and organs that shouldn’t be outside.

What happened here?

“Look how strong I’ve made you…” the voice resounds again, it’s nowhere to be seen, I can’t find it with any of my senses.

My senses? Looking down I find my hand stuck in the chest of a shrivelled body, it’s hair and skin white and flaky, its insides surprisingly warm. Why would a dead body be so warm?

Pulling out the hand stuck takes some effort, but when I do and stumble back from recoil, it comes out with something in its grasps.

Silver and wispy. Like a ball of mana except not at all. My mana is green and cold, but this is warm, no, hot, almost burning. The ball in my hand gives off a calm peaceful vibe that makes me want to protect it.

Just what is it?

“A soul.”

My mind goes blank all of a sudden and my dark, bloody terrain turns white, blindingly so as I get spun around and set on my ass.

Getting my bearings, I find a familiar face hovering near mine.

“Who are you?”

She…or he grins, flaunting unnaturally sharp and long teeth, “You really don’t recognize me? Your own patron god?”

Patron…god?

“Lotar!”

He…or maybe she nods. “And do you know who you are?”

“Of course, I do! I’m Asher Taserman and I work for a very dangerous…man.”

A very dangerous man? Who? Who is that? Who is Asher Taserman? Why does his name spill forth from my lips and who is this naked person asking me these questions?

The rather genderless person stands on barefoot, with a mane of white hair barely covering modest parts…except, there isn’t any need for modesty. There’s absolutely nothing down there.

Lotar…the name summons itself in my head at the thought of Patronage, sharp teeth and white hair. Who is Lotar?

“Who are you?”

Lotar hums, shaking its head disapprovingly, “Shouldn’t you be more worried about who you are? You’re fighting your own memories? Who would you be if not Asher Taserman who works for a dangerous man?”

I…I don’t know. Why am I doubting these memories? White hair? Kaylin…Maylin, Anselm is a ghost?

What is all this jumbled up nonsense in my head?

Lotar comes closer again, staring intently into my eyes. I’m too tired to move away, why am I so tired? Ugh more questions.

“Or perhaps? Are you beginning to recall the memories of the man you inhabit? Pluzur the Eternal Flame…is that you?” Lotar seems keenly interested in getting an answer and sits on the bare ground with me.

And I begin to notice…how familiar this place is, the white ground is turned brown with dirt and in a flash spots of green appear. And then a tree.

“Oh!” Lotar claps, “You’re filling out the blanks, your memory is surprisingly resilient…Asher. I can’t say much for you, Pluzur.”

Pluzur, there it is again. It feels…right, it feels like my name but something within me resists, scoffs and is that…disgust? Why would I feel disgust at being called the right name?

“I am…Asher.” I decide and the rumbling within me petters down. “I’m Asher and you are Lotar, my patron god.”

“Yes, I am.” Lotar scratches its head and sighs, “Perhaps the hunger was too much for you to handle, your mind is blank now. But if Asher is who you want to be today, then I can help you.”

“You can?” I perk up at this, to be rid of this feeling of confusion would be a blessing.

Lotar nods slowly, “But only if you want to be Asher. It seems some of this body’s memories are being confused with that of the soul.”

“A soul…” I mutter and then like a lightbulb…whatever that is, I remember, “I was holding one, I was holding a soul in my hand before I came here.”

Again Lotar nods, “Yes, that was yours. You almost got beaten…Asher, you may be strong compared to them now but you shouldn’t underestimate the versatile powers of the Cult. You almost lost your soul.”

I almost lost my soul…to a cult? That sounds terrible, “Why was I fighting? How did my soul get taken?”

These are the questions I have left to ask. Something tells me they’re the most important.

“The Cult you’re fighting is resilient and frightening. You are fighting them to get strong, Asher, and your soul? Well, it’s a funny story actually.”

It doesn’t sound very funny from where I’m sitting.

“You threw it.” Lotar nods, “Yes, you threw it right at the Gamma, it’s a rather powerful technique too, one I didn’t know you had until now.”

“I threw…my soul?”

Lotar smiles gently at me but for some reason I get the feeling he’s tired of my questions, “Do you want to live as Asher? And continue your quest for power or will you fall back on the memories of Pluzur the Eternal Flame and live without his soul?”

Those…don’t sound like good options. The knot in my stomach is rather conflicted about it too, living as Asher and fighting for power. There are things in place and places to be and people to see and battles to win but it’s all tiring now.

But, in comparison to the alternative, living as someone without a soul, someone I’m not. Because…I’m not Pluzur, that name may sound certain and sure and right for me in this instance but that knot cries out again and again as I think about it.

I’m not Pluzur.

“What would you choose?”

Lotar looks shocked, “Me? What I would choose to do if my memories were split between a foreign soul in a new body? Hmmm, well, I’ll live as Asher of course. Pluzur is dead.”

Pluzur is dead.

Lotar nods, as if surely satisfied with his answer, “Pluzur is dead and gone, he has floated up to the God of Flames and all that burns, Luxtis whom he served, his soul resides in that plane now and will eternally serve that God. He had his chance, I think this Asher guy sounds interesting though, I’d like to see what he serves.”

Lotar…is right. Pluzur has had his chance living in this world, living in this body. This soul, the one I hold in my hands, the warmth I feel within, it may not have its own body but it certainly deserves a chance to live in this world.

“I’ll live as Asher.” I decide, and as I do a wave of relaxation washes over me with a dreadful undertone of anticipation. Anticipation for what? I’m not sure, but I’m eager to find out.

Lotar claps and grins that toothy grin, “Very well, I’d say it’s a good choice, for me and for you.”

Before I can say anything else, Lotar inches closer and cuts my forehead.

An intense blast of pain erupts in my forehead as he craves something onto it. I fall over and try to get away but suddenly, rather than an androgenous human straddling me, I’m pinned down by a single paw of a giant white maned wolf.

“Stay still, Asher, you asked for this.”

“No, I didn’t!”

***

Gently, I find myself again. It’s strange, painful, scary, but most of all, it’s relieving.

My eyes peer open and I find Lotar staring at me again in that androgenous form. Instantly I remember.

“You damn wolf!”

Lotar chuckles lightly as I get to my feet, it’s hard, my muscles feel like mush and my bones ache and threaten to break.

“What a rude way to greet your saviour.” The wolf says cheerfully, “Shouldn’t you be bowing your head and begging to know how you can repay my generosity?”

“You damned wolf. What generosity? I wouldn’t have been in that state if it weren’t for you! I nearly went insane damn you!”

“You got stronger, didn’t you? Perhaps that madness and desperation is what won you that battle? You went in there empty headed you know?”

“And whose fault was that?”

Lotar looks about innocently, wondering who I could possibly be referring to. “It’s yours! You made me so freaking hungry I couldn’t think straight! You really expect I’d be able to make a plan in that state?”

With a shrug it says, “Well, not really, I expect you to kill Cultists, nothing else. Though, it seems you have your own adventures with the elves going on? What’s that about?” it prances about, circling me as it’s excessively long hair nearly trips it up.

Taking in a deep breath I remember what I’ve got to ask, it’s been ages since I’ve spoken to the damned wolf, I don’t think I’m going to get a better chance than this to ask my questions.

“How do I talk to you? You seem to be watching my moves and activities but I certainly have no way of knowing. I’ve got questions that need answering and I need a way to talk to you.”

“Talk to me? Hm, desperate for company? I thought you picked up another elf? What is it with you and elves by the way?”

Ugh.

“Just answer the question.”

It grins, “If you need to speak with me you just have to pray.”

“Pray?” I blink, “You’re not a god…are you? No, last time I asked that you said you weren’t.”

It shrugs, “Well, things have changed as you can see.” It gestures to its new humanoid look, “I’ve been fighting those on the side of Phien for so long now, it would be strange if I didn’t become some sort of lesser deity.”

“You’re a god now?”

It shakes it’s head and wags its finger, “Lesser deity. I’m still under the god who birthed me, the only thing that has changed is…I have my own power now. I was born of a god and that power…borrowed power is what sustained me. But now, that power can be renewed by my warlocks, you are my first followers.”

“So, you’re saying I should worship you?”

It nods, grinning excitedly, “Yes.”