She could see the dead now. Their blurred forms were barely visible against the snow shrouded landscape, but she could see them. The dead of Goswin lined the hills surrounding her in tight unmoving ranks held firmly by her magic. There were so many of them that she wanted to sob in frustration. Her staff was drained of power, as were the mana gems that she had brought, and she hadn’t even reached the difficult part of her task.
Repairing the strands should have been simple. She had counted on most of her reserves going to raising the dead. What she hadn’t counted on, however, was the sheer magnitude of the damage to Goswin. She had thought she would be removing a spell that blanketed everything rather than removing strands of shattered magic from everything. A single spell would have been so much simpler. A few strands pulled away and the remaining threads would have simply faded.
“Jala,” Valor hissed again his voice louder and more demanding.
“Has the lady gone Mage blind?” The second voice broke her from her focus and she nearly lost her grasp on the spirits surrounding her. Jala knew that voice, and Zachary Dark was the last person she had expected to hear today.
Slowly her eyes came open and she winced at the lance of pain that shot through her skull. The hours of focus had taken their toll on her, and she would be suffering for days for her efforts. “The lady is not Mage blind, whatever that is,” Jala said in a hoarse whisper. She felt as though she had been awake for days, though judging by the daylight remaining it had simply been the afternoon. Dusk was settling over the land now, and it would be night soon.
Zachary Dark stood looming a dozen feet from her. The black armor he wore stood out against the snow like a scar. His ragged black cloak was pulled up over his head to guard from the chill wind but she could still see the deathly pale face beneath. His cold blue eyes were locked on her and his face utterly devoid of emotion as he watched her. “It is what happens when a Mage pushes themselves beyond their capabilities. You can become lost in the magic, or shatter yourself. You, however are apparently stronger than I gave you credit for.” His voice was deep and monotone. Even the dead in the Darklands held more warmth in their voices.
“It seems to be a popular trend to underestimate me,” Jala replied softly, her voice sounding almost foreign to her ears. It had a serene quality about it that she couldn’t remember ever possessing before. Tilting her head slightly, she looked up to meet Zachary’s cold stare. “May I enquire as to what you are doing here, Lord Dark?” she asked politely.
“I told you, that should you manage to break the curse on Goswin, I would help you raise the dead. I keep my word,” Zachary answered bluntly.
Relief surged through her though she did her best from letting it show on her face. “I had thought you meant the dead in Merro. I didn’t realize you meant both lands,” Jala admitted cautiously.
“I had thought you only meant to raise the dead in Merro. After watching you today though I have seen what you intend. Do you wish help here Lady Merrodin or do you believe you can finish this task alone?” The expression on his face was enough to tell her that he knew the truth. Somehow Zachary could see how drained she already was though she didn’t think she had let her weakness show.
“I would welcome the help,” Jala said quietly and hoped her gratitude wasn’t too obvious. It wouldn’t do to be too humble to one of the lords of Oblivion. They were a lot like Delvay in their regards to strength, and would write you off quickly if you showed weakness.
Zachary nodded slowly and turned to look toward the waiting spirits. “I used to be quite the healer before the fall of Veir. I trained with Rose while I was at the Academy. They called me a Paladin then. Imagine that, me a holy knight,” he said softly and his voice held the faintest hint of sadness.
“You were a legend in Sanctuary. It took me years before they stopped comparing me to you. I’m not sure if I finally proved my worth or if they simply realized I would never measure up,” Valor said, his voice filled with respect.
Zachary turned his head to regard Valor and the edges of his mouth turned up in what might have been a smile. “We are worlds apart, Arovan, then and now. It wasn’t right to even compare us. You are a Stormlord. I was simply a knight with a knack for healing.” Pulling his cloak back he removed a flask from its pocket and handed it to Jala before turning back to face the waiting spirits. “Drink. By the time you finish that flask the Witches of Tolanteer should be here.”
Jala took the flask and opened it then sniffed its contents cautiously. The sweet smell was familiar and she raised an eyebrow at Zachary in question. “Essence wine?” she asked a bit unsure.
“It restores your magic and I will never drink the stuff. It was a gift from Victory the last time I saw him, and it was something that I never thought would be used,” Zachary answered quietly.
Jala nodded slowly and took a long pull from the flask. She hadn’t drunk Essence wine since the night she had met Finn, and she well remembered how drunk she had become then. She would have to be careful about how much she allowed herself to drink despite the sweet intoxicating flavor. Essence wine was far more potent than its taste led one to believe it would be.
Jala was on her third pull from the flask by the time she saw the dark forms emerging from the edge of the forest. Anthe walked in the lead with Myzra close beside her. Jala watched them approach in silence and took a final drink from the flask. She could feel her head becoming lighter with the alcohol, but she could also feel renewed magic coursing through her veins. With a faint smile she replaced the lid on the flask and offered it back to Zachary.
“Keep it. As I said I will never use the stuff,” Zachary said as he shook his head slightly in refusal.
“I thank you for the gift then,” Jala replied and moved to meet Anthe as she climbed the gentle slope to where they stood.