Time was not the same while inside the graveyard, as mourning of the living had a singular effect upon such a lifeless place – yet a place so paradoxical for some.
In fact, life was no longer affected by time at the graveyard, but by something else…
It was cold. But the coldness and darkness was the least of Nemera’s concerns. She had been crying for so many hours she began to forget time even existed. Without moving an inch of her body, her muscles were tensed in the same position. She was on her knees, on the soil that was still freshly digged under her knees. Still humid to the touch and the smell of dirt and rotting flesh filled her lungs, reminding Nemera where she refused to accept she was.
She couldn’t bring herself to even open her eyes, she cried as she kept her eyes shut as hard as she could. The feeling of her world beginning to fall apart was too much to bear. Nemera covered her face with both her hands as if it could make her disappear, just like the plague did to Jonian’s life.
Though, the more she refused the thought of being alive while her dearest love was buried into the ground and all she had left of him a gravestone, the louder it was the strange sensation her lifetime was somehow being extended for an eternity. It only brought more tears to her face.
After endless minutes of complete disconnection with her current reality and her thoughts drifting into a dark void, Nemera felt something odd enough to bring her awareness back to reality – to the silent graveyard. All of her energy draining down, she could feel her vitality leaving her body and going downwards, deep into the dark soil.
Fearful, Nemera uncovered her face and looked around her as the graveyard’s haunting stillness began to send signs of danger to her senses. It didn’t take long for her to notice her hands when she was scouring her surroundings with her heart palpitations rising desperately faster. Her hands were completely covered in a black and thick fluid.
Horror grew when she touched her face and more of the same fluid was all over her cheeks. Her hands were now trembling, for she realized those were her tears she had been crying. Confused and frightened, she quickly got up while also taking a few steps back. And she tripped over the long thorns of dead bushes, shredding her skirt and her right hand on the fall.
Nemera desperatly rushed to free herself from the thorny bush, which seemed to be embracing her.
The graveyard did not seem as dead as it was before for it longed for her to stay…
Only when she gave up fighting against the bushes, she managed to get back on her feet. This time, what she saw did not cause any fright, but instead a deep yearning and interest.
An eerie and faint green luminescence was coming through the mausoleum entrance. The door was opened. One side was broken and the other hanged loosely. Nemera noticed there was a trail of dirt, going from the mausoleum all the way to what appeared to be a large fissure on the ground, only a couple steps away from the mausoleum.
Feeling completely drawn and somewhat hypnotized by the light, she began taking slow and steady steps towards the mausoleum. By entering it, she finally saw what was the source of the green light. A strange object layed on the floor, on top of a great amount of dirt that was not supposed to be there.
The strange object made of a black and shiny metal, resembled the appearance of a ritualistic ancient relic. It was now calling to her. Nemera felt the tip of her fingers tingling and havier than usual. She then kneeled and touched the metallic relic of green aura.
Immediately the relic spun a few turns and began to float in the air, as a dark shroud of shadows whirled around the object. The shadows then slowly flew directly to Nemera’s hand and when that happened she was struck by many different voices whispering inside her head and the torments of every soul that had ever wandered on that graveyard.
Nemera’s hair began to slowly turn silvery white and now dark veins were visible under her pale skin.
Her senses were much more keen now, Nemera sensed vitality everywhere – much like smelling something or eye sight, it was becoming as natural as breathing.
Gazing at the shadows swirling around her right wounded hand, she observed the shadows while it healed the cuts. Once her hand was fully healed, it seemed to her as if the strange power was waiting for a command. And this is what Nemera did, a simple command and the shadows slowly spread, heading right inside the crack near the mausoleum.
Nemera walked out the mausoleum – with the relic now floating on her hand – to meet what was the beginning of a hoard of loyal minions.
A skeleton, in a horrific manner, crawled out of the deep fissure. And where was supposed to be flesh, there it was the shadows filling each cavity of the skeleton. Its glowing green eye socket was fixated on Nemera as it walked a few steps at her direction, and kneeled before her.
Facing each other, she then raised her left hand to the ground and said dryly:
And by her command, the soil between her and the skeleton appeared to be shifting and moving as something was emerging from the ground. The voices of deceased souls whispered to the surging of a short handled scythe. Nemera grabbed the deadly weapon of sharp and dark blade.
As soon as she picked it up, she saw all the energy once drained from her body, now rising from the ground in form of a faded and ghostly green mist. Each stream of the misty essence creeped back to her, making the symbols on the blade glow. Essence of life was now jolting through her body. And as she flourished the weapon of perfect weight, the skeleton minion screeched loudly. Awakening other forces, for the BlackHeart Queen had returned.
Note: Since the concept of the Necromancer class from Diablo III and Guild Wars 2 is my all time favorite, I felt inspired to write about it. Long post, but I hope it inspires you to go out there in the shadows to reap some souls and summon mighty minions.
*Whispers* The songs I linked are great, by the way. o/
Nida B. 🖤