B5 Chapter 24 – Lords of the Dead

As it turned out, the contract Dove had been compelled to sign was indeed very restrictive. Layers of constraints and restrictions that bound Dove’s soul so tightly he barely had room to wiggle. To describe it as onerous would be exceptionally generous; a slave contract was more one-sided, but not by much.

To get any information at all, he was forced to use his most forceful and intrusive methods, attacking Dove’s mind and soul, taking hold and squeezing, until a few little secrets started to spill out. The process was… unenjoyable for Dove, but his own actions had forced him into this position.

Tyron had taken the time to study the ritual his former teacher had been trying to cast, and it was an interesting piece of magick. Complex dimensional magick, complex enough that the Necromancer was confident Dove couldn’t have come up with it on his own, aimed at the rift. Perhaps Tyron should have let him get a little closer to finishing the spell before having his minions put a stop to it, but what he had was enough to make him worried. Very worried.

If he understood it correctly, then this ritual would draw in magick and use the weakened Dimensional Weave in this location to either punch a hole to another location, or perhaps redirect an existing rent. Of course, it was possible to cast dimensional magick anywhere, but some locations were much easier to reach than others. The Abyss, for example, was everywhere. A blank space between worlds, it was equidistant from every point, so it didn’t overly matter from where you tried to reach it.

Other places, like the Astral Sea, were relatively easy to reach, even without drilling a hole. Summoners cast their consciousness into it all the time, seeking creatures to form contracts with.

Other places were much harder to get to. Although it was difficult to be sure, Tyron had a feeling that Dove had been trying to reach a place that nobody was supposed to reach.

Not in a physical form.

As such, the power flooding out of the rifts and the weakened weave were all necessary to try and get through. In between the screams, insults and genital references, Tyron was able to extract enough from Dove that a picture began to form.

He wasn’t performing this ritual of his own accord, but to fulfil a condition of his contract. This was why he’d been so insistent on coming to the rift in the first place, in order to make an attempt, which would at the very least ease the burden the contract was placing on his actions.

Dove had known he would be caught before he could succeed, but had been compelled to make the attempt anyway, knowing what the consequences would be.

The logic wasn’t hard to follow. Dove had formed this contract inside the Realm of the Dead, which meant a powerful individual, or individuals, living there had been able to force him into it. He wasn’t able to speak of the terms, or even reveal the existence of the contract, not directly.

One of those terms obliged him to try and create an opening, connecting this realm to that of the dead.

That revelation sent a shiver down Tyron’s spine. He couldn’t imagine what purpose some… overlord of the afterlife might have with this realm, but he didn’t imagine it was good. As if dealing with the rifts and The Five weren’t bad enough.

“Alright, Dove. I’m done with you.”

“Didn’t… didn’t even b-buy me dinner f-first,” the skeleton mumbles.

Ignoring that remark, Tyron stood up and idly brushed the dirt from his robe, thinking. It took a few minutes, but eventually Dove rose as well, still recovering from the mental strain, and the soul-shredding pain he’d been forced to endure.

Not that he held it against his former student, not that much, anyway. He’d known this was going to happen. Planned for it.

“Did you have enough to go on?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“Enough to be worried. Enough to know I don’t have enough information to work with,” Tyron replied absently, still considering. In the end, he shook his head and grunted. “I’m going to have to ask them. You know that, right?”

Dove could only sigh, hands on his bony pelvis.

“I thought it might come to that,” he admitted. “Sorry to put you in that position.”

An uncharacteristic apology. Tyron raised his brows in surprise. What was next, the rifts spitting out rainbows and chocolate cake? Before he could even begin to think that the Spectral Summoner might have changed, Dove ruined the moment by dramatically pointing down to the gap between his legs.

“Now where’s my snake?!” he demanded. “That’s my fucking property!”

Reminding himself not to expect any different in the future, Tyron summoned a host of skeletons to drag Dove away.

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“I’m going to have you watched for a while, old friend,” he said as Dove cursed and howled and somehow managed to gyrate as he was being hauled off. “Just until we get clear of the rifts.”

It was likely Dove would be compelled to make another attempt so long as they were here, so there was no choice but to have him contained and supervised. Preferably somewhere Tyron wouldn’t have to listen to him.

Still thinking, he couldn’t help but grimace as he imagined the path forward from here. Things were going to get difficult, and messy, very quickly as he looked into this issue. Dove had done well to warn him and pass on as much information as he could, proving he hadn’t become a complete nihilistic monster in his undeath. Realising the danger he had brought to the realm, he’d acted to prevent it as best he could.

Noble, in a sense.