"What did you think of the class?" He heard Viktor ask a great voice next to him. The accent was that of the city of Genbofen itself.
Looking back, Viktor saw another student trotting forward to catch up with him as he left the classroom. He appeared to be the same age as Viktor, with a neat head of blond hair and a fuzz of beard on his chin, trimmed in the style of what Viktor believed was the fashion of the imperial capital. He also weighed between five and ten kilos more than Viktor himself. The student clutched to his chest a half-open backpack with scrolls and a quill sticking out.
"Fascinating. Better than he had expected. "
Better than you had hoped for? What do you mean by that? "
“Uh… It doesn't matter. It has truly been everything he had hoped it would be. "
"Professor Theodria is certainly an excellent speaker, right?"
"It is obvious that he is a man of great intelligence and a scholar of the arcane arts."
"Extremely," the other young man agreed enthusiastically. "Was this your first class?"
"Yes. Also yours? "
"Yes."
The two young men stopped in the corridor on which the classroom opened in which a lecture on mana control formulas was being held, where the bustle of the other students continued to advance and left them behind.
"Excuse me, I forgot to introduce myself," said Viktor's classmate, who almost dropped the bulky bag as he dropped one of his hands to reach out to him friendly. "Herwin Reiss."
"Viktor Drichey." Uncertainly, Viktor reciprocated the other's gesture, and they both shook hands. It was a very different greeting from the one his roommate had given her.
"Where are you from?" Herwin asked cordially.
Chipped. A small town. I don't think you've heard of him. "
"Have you been in Genbofen long?"
"Three days."
"And what do you think of the school?"
"It's unbelievable, to tell the truth."
"Yes, I have to agree with the diagnosis, as Professor Theodria would say," Herwin commented with a chuckle.
"I gather that you are from Genbofen"
"Correct. I live with my mother, who is a widow. Now I am the man of the house; I have been since I was thirteen. But the inheritance my father left us will not last forever. So I'm studying at school, following in my father's footsteps, actually. He was a respected Conjurer. And now I am doing my own career; Like my father, I will specialize in the school of Conjuration with a focus on the sub-school of Healing, I will be something like an arcane Doctor. "
"I guess school is nothing new for someone like you," Viktor commented admiringly.
“I don't know what to tell you about that. This city has a good amount of emotions for citizens and visitors. I guess you've already heard of the 'Tomb Raider'. "
"The 'Tomb Raider'?" Viktor repeated, his pale expression of uncertainty beginning to show anxiety. "N ... no."
"Well, I am surprised by that revelation, friend Viktor," Herwin said, then led him to the side of the hall, they looked like a couple of conspirators. "Right now there is no talk of anything else among the students of the school, right now, since the second body disappeared from the morgue in the cemetery."
Viktor felt an involuntary chill run down his spine like a drop of icy water.
“They say that Father Albert has been furious about the matter. He has asked the city council to post soldiers at the entrance to the cemetery in order to prevent it from happening again. "
"Father Albert?"
"The priest of Mortis of the church of the six great gods."
"And who is the 'Tomb Raider'?" Viktor asked nervously.
“The name has its origin in the popular fable that parents tell their children to scare them and make them behave well. But now it seems that the "Tomb Raider" is not a simple scary tale for children, after all. The first bodies began to disappear at the end of last year. Three in a few months. The first was hardly missed, since it belonged to a hanged criminal. The second was, apparently, that of a beggar who had died of cold just before the Temple of the triumvirate. The third was from a man they had taken from the river. But now two more have disappeared within a week, both from the funeral chapel of the cemetery itself. "
"But who would do such a thing?" Viktor asked, horrified. "And because?"
“Valto, Professor Staudinger's apprentice, overheard some of the veteran members speaking in Staudinger's office. They fear it is the work of necromancers. "
Viktor felt the blood drain from his cheeks. Necromancers. The very scourge of all life and of the life of his father in particular. That was what he had heard his father say on several occasions. They were a plague and the deadly enemies of the priests.
Viktor hated the very idea of their existence. It was inconceivable to him that anyone would want to interfere with Mortis's plans and desecrate the final resting place of the dead and then, on top of that, return the dead to an unholy and inhuman life for their own benefit, to carry out their own plans. insidious.
He had come to a city where a madman, murderer, or even summoner of the dead, spread terror during the night hours. And three days before, Genbofen seemed to offer him so many promises… Now the thought of spending another night in the city disturbed him deeply.
Erich Lieter had also heard the rumors regarding the 'Tomb Raider'. He, however, was less convinced by the idea that the ghostly body looter was a practitioner of black magic.
"In a city as big as this, all kinds of doctors, surgeons, magicians and other researchers work," Erich said as Viktor realized that he was inviting another jug in the tavern after class on Erich's side. “Not everyone is licensed for their professions, believe me. Dangerous madmen or advanced thinkers, they all need to get somewhere the bodies they use for their studies. And the desperate ones immoral enough to do the dirty work and exhume corpses from the graves for a modest price abound. "
Erich took another sip from the mug and fixed Viktor with a knowing look.
“Not all the adversities in this world are due to black magic. There is enough evil in the hearts of men that we also need necromancers and demons. "
♦ ♦ ♦
As the days of mutual confinement in their shared room had passed, Viktor grew fond of the disheveled and rebellious Erich.
There was something secretly charismatic about the unruly apprentice of magic. And on the part of him, Erich seemed to like the company of someone as young and naive and as easy to impress or scandalize as Viktor.
Since he was new to the life of a commercial city, and still innocent to most worldly events, Erich could offer him stories of youthful exuberant excess in a city that had almost everything a rebellious young man could wish for.
Erich also had an absorbed listener when he wanted to expose what he thought was wrong with the world or, to be more precise, what was wrong with the School of Magic or 'School of Fossils', as he preferred to call it.
It wasn't long before it became clear to Viktor that if Erich couldn't afford to live in a better place it was because he had found other things to spend his pay on.
Erich would rather spend his money on debauchery and crazy drinking days than on comfortable accommodation.
The loft was located on a street that overlooked the poorer parts of the city, but it was the only place Erich and Viktor could afford to live. There were three other people who shared the dilapidated building with them.
Enye Hawk, their landlady witch, occupied the ground floor. She had told Viktor that the rooms on the first floor were rented by a famous actor, one Frix Liverti. In reality, Frix was a Belladonna consumer fond of seducing the latest young star trying to achieve fame in the theater.
The rooms on the second floor were used from time to time by one of the city's most highly regarded merchants. Enye Hawk assured Viktor that she was too discreet to mention her name, to accommodate her cousin during her frequent trips to Genbofen from the imperial court in the capital.
That left only the third-floor outbuildings, which were really nothing more than the plainly decorated attic of the dilapidated building where Viktor and Erich resided in their thin-walled rooms.
All floors could be accessed by a precarious wooden staircase that climbed to the top of the building from the front door. It led directly onto the smelly street that ran a sewage canal.
So that was life in Genbofen, Viktor thought as he tried to fall asleep that night in an uncomfortable bed in a drafty loft, set in a city full of people whom he, Herwin and Erich aside, seemed not liking them without even meeting him, and with a body thief or possibly something worse loose on the streets.
Viktor couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. His dream was not quite what he had hoped it would be in reality.
But at least he was already finding his place in the magic school. Nothing could really dampen his enthusiasm for the path he had started down, and that was the only thing that really mattered.
After only two or three years, his training would conclude and he could return to Chipped with his beloved sister Karen.
As his eyes closed, he saw her face, her swan neck and almond eyes so similar to his mother's, her shiny hair, the luster of her braids, like moonlight on a lake at midnight, that framed the delicate pale features.
So much like her mother… So different from her father… And then, surprisingly, the raven-black figure of his father, devoid of feelings, appeared with total clarity in his mind.
He would no longer be the lonely son of Brechtal Drichey, priest of the god of death.
It would be Viktor Drichey, the master magician.
Yes, he liked that definition. Curled up under the rough fur blanket on the thin straw pallet of his bed, he mentally repeated the title over and over as sleep overcame him.
Yes. Viktor Drichey, the Master Magician.
And then, as sleep finally took hold of him, one last obsessive image appeared in her mind and dreams of him.
It was a face he had never seen before, a face he could never have seen in his life. A hideous bandaged face with a dire yellow eye that peered through the bloodstained cloth, and a mouth that was a ruin of shrunken gums and long rotten teeth.
In spite of everything, Viktor somehow knew who it was, although at that moment he was unaware of its importance.
It was the face of the Tomb Raider.
At the moment, I find it hard to believe that I was ever so impressed by old Professor Theodria. His mind was as closed to new thoughts as an Adamantite strongbox reinforced by enchantments. There was no way that he believed that there could be another way, another way of knowledge far greater and more powerful than his own. Because deep down he was a coward who was afraid of those who dared to question the primitive and antiquated understanding of the world that he considered an irrefutable truth, a way of thinking that he clung with all his might like a dog to a bone. .The school principal was a cowardly and dogmatic fool whose position of power and influence was based on a weak-minded attachment to the knowledge and practices received from others.But looking back, as much as I may despise my memories of Professor Theodria, that is nothing compared to the hatred and contempt I feel, even now, towards that shitty Inquisitor, sow sonic, rotten sewer rat
During weeks of diligent study, Viktor also regularly received letters from his sister Karen about him. They always arrived when a carriage made a postal delivery from Vegenholt, the closest town to Chipped on the main routes through the Empire. Letters that had previously been brought there by some willing farmer who transported his goods to the town to sell.And amid all this hustle and bustle of Viktor's new life, whenever he received a letter from his devoted and loyal sister, it evoked the life he had left behind. Karen's letters kept him up to date on everything that was happening at Chipped and let him know that his sister was toiling there without him, taking care of his father and taking care of her needs. They were a comforting reminder of home. There was never a letter from his father.At first, Viktor dutifully responded to each of Karen's missives, as he had resolved to do, and sent the letters through the city mail company. But
The heavy oak door of the library slammed open, breaking the quiet, musty silence of the place. The room was usually almost sacredly quiet, as if it were a shrine, but this had now been broken by the arrival of the Inquisitor.He had the attitude of a man used to having to get what he wanted by force and being satisfied with it. And, of course, no weak apprentice magician was going to stand in his way.The man was over six feet tall, wore leather riding boots, and although he appeared to have reached middle age, this made him look even stronger rather than detract from his vigor. Viktor saw thick, rope-like muscles taut on the man's neck as he laid eyes on him.Felix's profile was of noble lineage, with a prominent and distinguished jaw, short gray hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were piercing sharp points of sapphire blue, and his teeth were bare as his lips parted in a fierce canine grin. He had the unmistak
"This is going to end right now!" the school principal roared as he rested his hands on the surface of his desk.Felix straightened and turned away from Viktor, his sapphire gaze as cold as a winter night."Why are you defending this bastard?" the Inquisitor asked in a voice as hard and cutting as an Adamantite sword. "Is it perhaps an indication of your own guilt?""This interrogation is a sham!" Theodria bellowed. "I would lend the same support to any member of the School in the face of such blatant lies and fraudulent accusations as these.""Unless he was shown to be a servant of the dark powers, of course.""Which young Viktor Drichey is not!""That has yet to be proven.""How can this boy be the 'Tomb Raider'? He arrived in Genbofen in the early spring, and the disappearances started much earlier, in the last month of winter as far a
What is madness? Do you think that I am crazy, I, someone who condemns his own soul through the practice of black magic? And for what purpose? For a few more decades of desperately decadent life? To become an outlaw from the world of the living when it is precisely the unbearable desire to live that has led me to study the forbidden rites of necromancy?I will tell you for what purpose I have done that. I have done everything for nothing, because it is the only thing I have now that I bare my soul before you: nothing. Nothing to show for two centuries of life; the lands that I once claimed as my own, the people who showed fidelity to me, all already forgotten.And the only thing I can hope for now is an ignominious end and an eternity in that twilight world of the realm of the dead, caught between the worlds of eternal rest and glorious life, unable to exist in either of them, both torturingly out of reach. . An eternity of torment. An etern
Within the harsh world Humans inhabited, the mentally ill were often forgotten and, for the most part, constituted a misunderstood, intolerant, and feared underclass. In fact, there were very few places that cared for them.At best, they were an embarrassment to their families, to be isolated from the world, both to spare their relatives embarrassment and to protect them. In the worst case, the madmen were accused of being possessed by demons and burned for witchcraft, in very rare cases madmen were taken for messengers divinely inspired by the gods. This was not the case with the unfortunate Sed.He was curled up on a bed in a small cell with a sturdy door reinforced with iron bands.Viktor was immediately taken aback.While the other patients they had cared for were old or at least prematurely aged from the lives they had led, there was no doubt that Sed was still a young man despite his sunken che
Viktor knocked three times on the door of the Headmaster's study. For a moment he didn't hear anything. Was he doing the right thing by going there, directly challenging the teacher, especially after what happened? Maybe the professor wasn't even in the study.After a few moments a "Come in."Taking a deep breath, Viktor opened the door and stepped into the room, the memory of the last time he had been there still fresh as an open wound in his mind.Professor Theodria looked up."He thought we had reached… uh… an agreement, after the… uh… incident.""Yes, professor, and I ... sorry to bother you." Viktor looked at his feet nervously. "B ... But there is something I want to ask you.""What do you want?"Viktor gripped his hands tightly behind his back to stop them shaking.“Today I hav
I've always wondered why the living fear the dead so much. Why are people afraid of soulless corpses? What reason could there be for that? Unless a necromancer's spells have given the dead a semblance of life, what can they do? What danger could they pose? How could they threaten a living, breathing, flesh and blood person?And also, why are people so afraid of body snatchers? If you believe that your eternal souls move to a better place after death.What does it matter what happens to the rotten container that used to be his body?Why should they care?The dead should not be feared, because there are many things the living can learn from them. It could be argued that were it not for the Necromancers, medical science's understanding of the human body and its diseases could not have advanced as far as it has. But the same can be said of the arts of necromancy.However, is it true