| Necronias' Tale | ||
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Necronias The Planes Histories |
Now, no age is truly perfect. For all the good the Great School gave to the Shadowlands, it had the same flaws of any venerable organization. It had grown rigid and hierarchical. The distinction between the High Mages, those who could shape and wield spells of great power, and the Low Mages, the casters of lesser magics had grown into virtually castes. No Low Mage, regardless of aptitude, held any position of real authority. These mages filled the menial roles and served the High Mages. They were not treated as slaves or surfs or even truly servants but they were by no means considered equals. Given time these walls might have come down had it not been for the hand of Necronias. -------------------------------------------------------- Story of Necronias' life begins with his conception. Granted you could say the same thing about almost every other human, but except for a few details, it is pretty much the same story. In Necronias' case there is considerably more. His mother's name was Melcynda. Like her mother, she was a gifted witch. Witchcraft encompasses a few types of magic but mostly it focused on the art of crafting and directing WitchGates. A talented Witch could open a portal to virtually place or any plane. As said Melcynda was talented. Her reach was exceptional but she was young so she would often forgo some of the more tedious safeguards her craft demanded. The odds of her needing all the time consuming blocks and shields were so small. So it was that on the day Melcynda's gate reached out and touched the worst of all possible destinations there was no cantrip to immediately sever the spell. The young girl was frozen in horror as she stared through her WitchGate into the depths of Hell itself. In the midnight inferno a titanic figure moved. It's eyes burned with flames that stood three times taller than any man. Its hulking body was so massive that Melcynda could barely comprehend it. At first it moved with the ponderance of a giant but when it saw the slim figure through the tear in space it lashed out with the speed of a viper's strike. The finger's talon was as long a spear and it lanced through both the gateway and the girl. Melcynda, with the claw transfixing her belly, barely heard the voice of the Duke of Hell before she fell unconscious. "Through your womb shall my will be done and darkness shall reign once more. Great shall be my half mortal child. He shall be great in my eyes and, to your doom, so shall he be to yours." Melcynda awoke whole, though her dress was soaked with blood. She knew too that the Demons child grew within her. She thought to go to her mother, the Crone and seek help but the demons words sung in her mind. How could the offspring of such a vile being be great to her? Her mother would show no mercy and if Melcynda's life needed to be forfeit to stop the birth of her son then that is what the Crone would do. Melcynda would sacrifice herself for the good of the world but first she needed to know the answer to the riddle. There was one place she new she could find the answer. Her mother had created a power vessel for scrying into the past and more importantly for Melcynda, the future. It was known as the Well of Visions. The well required one to speak the true name of that which was to be revealed. Melcynda knew she would only be able to use her babes name one time. She wondered if she should call forth what she dreaded, her child's dark side, or should she cast a vague query about what he would do in his life. After a moments thought she realized that whatever evil her son might commit was not yet done. Calling forth such a vision might seal her child destiny. His blood was tainted but there was no guarantee that her love could not curb the darkness. Better she resolved would be to summon a vision of the good her child will bring into the world and hope. She named the child to be Necronias and in doing so shaped his true name. She listened with her heart and heard the name she needed to call forth the vision of her son's gift. The well darkened and Melcynda found herself looking into the realms of death. "How can this be," she wondered. " I sought not the gloom of death but the joy he will bring to life." Puzzled she watch the images unfold. She saw the spirits of those that lived. The figures moved so slowly that Melcynda imagined time itself crawled. It was sad to see all those beings trapped away from the world. Parents locked away from their children, lovers lost to each other. All the wisdom of our elders locked behind the walls of death. You may wonder at this for in our time the spirits live close about us. The barriers between the Spirit Realm and the Physical Plane are thin, especially at night. We have spells that can call the dead to us so we can speak with them. On All Graves Day any spirit who wishes can fashion a body of flesh and touch the physical world for that night. This was not so in Melcynda's time. Once a body passed from life it could not return. Nor could we venture into their plane. To do so meant our own demise. The weight of this loss to our world dragged Melcynda to her knees. It was a simple fact that she had accepted all her life. Death meant an end. Only the Gods could transcend death. For everyone else there was nothing but loss. Then she saw the answer to the demon's riddle. She saw her son and her heart near burst with love for him. Even though his appearance and power was fearsome, he shone like the sun to her. She watched as her built bridges into the Lands of Dead. He crafted the spells that could summon the spirits of those who had gone beyond and bring them to the living world. She was stunned as his magic even brought life back to the dead, resurrecting them whole and perfect once more This would be her son's gift to the world. He would give life to the dead, bring together families and recover eons of knowledge trapped behind the gateways of death As the vision faded she was certain that whatever possible acts of darkness her beloved child might do, they could never out weigh his gifts. Unfortunately Melcynda was a terrible oracle. -------------------------------------------------------- The babe was borne easily and no child ever was loved more. Melcynda used her Witchgates to find her and Necronias a beautiful valley where she would raise her son. It was abundant with life and Melcynda's witchcraft could easily reach anything the valley lacked. Melcynda watched as Necronias' magic grew and grew. By the time he was nine years old he had more magic that anyone she had ever known. She also noticed that her own skills had become stronger since her child's birth. In many ways she might even be more powerful than her mother who had been the strongest Witch the world had known. Melcynda's witchcraft was not her strongest gift though. That came from her heart. That day by the well had opened her soul, not just to her son but to all those that lived or had lived. She felt connected to every living being and each one of them she cherished. Had Fate not intervened Necronias' tale might have been quite different. For in his mother the child found a source of limitless beauty and light. It forced back the darkness he knew lived within himself and gave the ability to find joy and love. Far from her sheltered valley there was a small village that Melcynda would often gate to when she needed some crafted item or stock that she could not get about her home. She had become well known by the villagers. They knew not where she came from or where she went to but her beauty and inner light made them grateful for her visits. There was one who stared at Melcynda for more than the pleasure of her smile. His name was Nyyver. He was a wealthy landholder who in his own opinion was the highest member of that town. He envisioned on day he would be the lord of the territory. From the first moment he saw Melcynda Nyyver coveted her. His nights were filled with visions of her lush body. His servants in town were ordered to alert him whenever she arrived. The day came when he invited her to his manor to sup with him. Smiling she accepted and Nyyver heart crowed in triumph. After the meal he knelt before her and swore she would be his lady. He rambled for a moment about her perfection and his desire for her. Melcynda was flattered by the outburst and still smiling told him that her live was already devoted to another. She brushed her hand across his cheek and wished him a life of happiness and left. Nyyver was incensed. First she had refused him, something he had never imagined. Secondly she had done so in front of his servants who he was sure was spreading the tale about the village. He could imagine the whole town mockingly laughing at him scorn. Lastly was the image of her entwined with her lover. It burned at his soul. He knew then that he had been bewitched by a succubus from the flames of hell. He penned a letter to the inquisitors of the great school and embellished it with tales of vile acts. A month later an Inquisitor named Sovarel arrived and called on Nyyver. He spoke with the enraged man and his truthsence told him that his trip was in vain. He clearly saw that this man had twisted the world to suit his own ego. As he was about to leave though one the Landowner's servants arrived with new that "the woman" was back. The Inquisitor figured it to be fruitless but he decided he might as well ask the woman a few questions anyway. When he saw her he better understood the wealthy man's obsession. She was truly beautiful. He introduced himself and told her that he was here to investigate a case of demonology. To his surprise she blanched and sought to depart. Sovarel called on his power as an Inquisitor and bound her from leaving. It was no easy task. Never before had he meet such a powerful witch. He shackled her magic and began to question her. Through skilled queries he sifted through her truths and lies. She had had traffic with a demon and to his dread it seems that the demon was of immense power. Melcynda was transported to Great School. There the School's Inquisitors worked her over day and night. Able to sense every lie they had discovered she had born the beast a child. They tried to get the child's name but they could not. Only if they had guessed his name would they know if she tried to deny it. So they tried to find where the child was. There too they failed. Melcynda did not know if her valley lay north of such and such a point. She had found it through at random through a WitchGate and saw it was perfect for her and her son but beyond that she nothing of where it lay. In our time, divinations could have been used to ask, "Where Melcynda's child lived" but the enchantments of the Great School were not so subtle. They could unleash forces far greater than we could dream but their spells were massive hammers compared to the jeweler’s tools of today. There was nothing more the Inquisitors could do. They had not the means to find or name the child and so they prayed that one day they would not live to regret their failure. They turned the corrupted woman over the priests. For three months they put her through the tortuous rituals of purification. When they were sure the demon taint was gone and so would not fester in the realms of the dead, they cut her soul from her body. They sighed at the waste of such a promising young woman but if the demon was half as fearful as they believed there was no way they could take a chance. Her body was burned and the ashes burned again. Alone in the valley Necronias wept, for his mother had not come home.
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