Morning sunlight filtered through the forest canopy as Lioren returned to the ruins for the third time. Each visit had pushed him deeper into understanding necromancy, not as chaos but as structure and rhythm. Today, though, the air felt different. The ground pulsed faintly beneath his boots, as if something deep below the ruins was awake.
Rattle followed close behind, his bones clinking nervously. Master, I do not like that pulse. Usually, when the ground moves, something huge and dangerous is about to say hello.
Lioren smiled. That is what makes it interesting.
They reached the spiral staircase again. The chamber below had changed. What was once quiet now glowed faintly, runes along the walls pulsing with life. At the center, the large pedestal from before was open. Inside it rested a small black orb encased in cracked glass, humming with strange energy.
Rattle stared. Master, that thing looks cursed. Very cursed.
Lioren crouched beside the pedestal, eyes narrowing as he studied the orb. It radiated warmth, unlike the usual cold magic of necromancy. It was not purely evil. It was old. Ancient even.
He whispered softly, letting his energy flow toward it. The orb trembled, then began to glow brighter.
Rattle clattered in panic. Master, it is moving! Please tell me this is intentional!
Maybe, Lioren said with a grin. Let us find out.
The orb lifted from its casing and hovered between his hands. It pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, reacting to his presence. Slowly, waves of faint blue light spread through the air.
For a moment, everything was calm. Then the walls trembled. From the shadows, the ruins stirred again. Cracked skeletal statues began to move, their hollow eyes burning with ghostly blue light.
Rattle groaned. I knew it. Ancient magic always means ancient trouble.
Stay close, Lioren said. He placed the orb on the ground and drew a circle of runes around it. The energy from the orb synchronized with his magic, amplifying it. His summoned skeletons rose stronger and faster than ever, their bones glowing faintly from the orb's pulse.
The statues advanced with heavy stone blades. Sparks flew as they clashed with Lioren's skeletons. The impact sent vibrations through the chamber, shaking dust from the ceiling. Lioren ducked behind a fallen pillar and began chanting quickly. His skeletons adapted to his commands, countering the guardians' attacks with perfect timing.
One statue lunged at him directly. Lioren raised his hand and released a burst of necrotic energy. The attack cracked the creature's chest, but the energy rippled strangely across the ground.
Rattle gasped. That energy is not pure necromancy. It is mixed with something else.
Exactly, Lioren said through gritted teeth. The orb is teaching us how to merge different energies.
The fight dragged on, the air filled with stone dust and magic. Finally, after a final coordinated strike, his skeletons shattered the last guardian into pieces.
Silence filled the chamber. The orb's glow dimmed and the humming stopped. Lioren picked it up carefully, feeling its warmth settle into a steady rhythm that matched his pulse.
Rattle rattled softly. Master, that was surprisingly smooth. You are either a genius or completely insane.
Lioren smiled. Maybe both. But look at this.
He lifted the orb, and faint markings appeared along its surface. Ancient runes shifted and rearranged themselves until one phrase glowed clearly.
The heart of control.
Lioren whispered the words and felt a rush of understanding. The orb was not just power. It was a conduit, a stabilizer that allowed him to harness necromantic energy without exhausting himself.
Rattle tilted his skull. So you are telling me this orb basically turns you into a super summoner?
More like a refined one, Lioren said with a smirk. Power means nothing without control. And this is control.
He slipped the orb into his satchel. Instantly, he felt a faint connection as if the relic had accepted him.
When they climbed back up the stairs, the forest greeted them with stillness. But something in the air had changed. The birds were silent, and a faint blue mist drifted through the trees.
Rattle looked around nervously. Master, please tell me the forest is not glowing because of that orb.
Lioren frowned. No, this is something else.
He followed the mist to a clearing where deep claw marks tore through the soil. The air smelled faintly of magic and ash.
Rattle froze. Master, those look like—
I know, Lioren interrupted quietly. Dragon marks.
The air grew heavy, and the orb pulsed faintly in his bag as if responding to the word. Far in the distance, a faint echo rumbled through the forest, like a roar carried on the wind.
Rattle rattled nervously. Master, remember when you said adventure is about learning? I think we are about to learn too much.
Lioren chuckled, eyes sharp. Then let us be ready to learn everything.
He turned away from the clearing, the marks burned into his memory. The orb's pulse beat softly against his heart, reminding him that this was only the beginning.