Deus Necros

Chapter 530: Bound Spirit

She smiled at him as her eyes locked onto his “It isn’t a perfect design,” Lorina admitted, her voice quiet, “but it should buy you some peace.”

“This is more than enough,” Ludwig said, lowering his gaze to the pond. “You didn’t need to part with something so rare. I can tell this water isn’t meant to be given to anyone or taken lightly.”

“It isn’t,” she agreed, stepping beside him. “This pond is one of our last true relics. It’s been guarded since before my grandmother’s time. Once, we offered some to the Emperor of Men, before the betrayal. It lengthened his life, gave him a glimpse of what eternity might feel like. And when mortals taste eternity…” Her tone darkened. “They demand it.” The last words were spoken with sourness behind them.

“He wanted more,” Ludwig said.

“Much more,” Lorina answered. “More than the tree could ever produce. When we refused, he turned against us, and cut relations, but the more his time was spent wasting, the more his thoughts were poisoned. A few decades later… The Envious Death played her tricks, and the Emperor turned his armies on us. The war that followed cost us thousands of lives and forced us to retreat back to this fractured hidden space. My parents now suffer the cost of such greed and envy,” She said as she gently brushed the wood surrounding the basin.

Ludwig nodded slowly. He’d read the chronicles, the Emperor who sought dominion over life and death, who waged wars across the continent only to die clutching his own heart in defiance. “The same story as always,” he muttered. “Greed, fear, and the illusion that time can be conquered. Necros takes everyone in the end.”

Lorina’s eyes flicked toward him at the mention of that name, but she said nothing. He let the silence stand between them until the next droplet fell.

“Then I should go,” Ludwig said finally, resting a hand near his pocket. “I can’t linger here. You’ve given me more than I deserve already. But tell me one thing, why entrust me with the Seed?”

“So you realized it was a seed of the tree of life?” she smiled at Ludwig.

“I’d be a fool not to, also the boy mentioned it.” Ludwig said.

“It’s a bond,” Lorina said simply. “A reminder that not all bridges between our peoples are broken. And if the bridge between the empire of man and us is shattered at the very least I would like to keep our relationship.” She stood to face Ludwig “The seeds you carry cannot grow into new Trees of Life, only one may exist each age. But it will lead you to us should you ever lose your way. And you’ll always be welcome among my kin.”

He turned the acorn in his palm. Warm to the touch, light as a breath, yet filled with a strange weight that pulsed faintly in time with his own heartbeat. “I should keep this safe with me then, I’m pretty sure it won’t be any good news if any other were to realize I have a key to your hidden kingdom.”

Lorina’s smile flickered. Then her eyes shifted to his shoulder. “We trust you, and even with the key in hand, they need to go past the Elves friend,” she murmured. Her pupils tightened, as if focusing on something invisible.

A faint whisper came from beside his ear. “Hey, Ludwig… is it just me, or… I think she can see us,” Thomas said.

“Because she can,” replied the Knight King, his deep voice like an echo pressed into stone.

Lorina folded her hands in front of her. “So that’s what I sensed. You carry bound souls.” Her tone held neither fear nor accusation, just observation. “That isn’t safe.”

“How so?” Ludwig asked, turning slightly so they both rested more squarely on his shoulders.

“Their link to you isn’t natural,” she said. “When spirits linger too long in the mortal realm, they begin to twist. Their essence decays until all that’s left is hunger, or worse, anger.”

“Hey, I’m fine,” Thomas interrupted, his voice dripping with mock indignation. “I’m already dead, what’s the harm in enjoying the view for a while? Beats staring at Necros’ door for eternity.”

“You should show respect, young one,” the Knight King rumbled. “You’re in the presence of royalty.”

Lorina tilted her head. “The Knight King of Tibari… I recognize the trace of your blood. Half-elven, yes?”

He inclined his spectral helm slightly. “Indeed, Your Majesty.”

She shook her head. “Not majesty. I’m no queen, merely a daughter left behind by one.” She bowed instead, graceful and precise. “It is I who should honor you.”

The Knight King gave a soft, weary chuckle. “To see the living bow to the dead… I lived and died long enough to appreciate irony. I failed my people, not ruled them. I do not deserve that bow”

“We know the stories,” Lorina said. “Of Tibari, and how just its king was, until the Usurpers came.”

“Always them,” he sighed. “Every ruin in this world has their shadow at the edge of it. But that was long ago. No use mourning dust.”

“Why are you so interested in these two?” Ludwig asked quietly.

Lorina’s eyes flicked toward Thomas. “The King’s soul is anchored by something… I don’t know what it is, but it is powerful it tethers him to you… But the other…” She paused. “His anchor is only thought and memory. That’s not enough. He’ll fade soon.”

Thomas laughed nervously. “I’m fine. See? Still here.” His shape flickered faintly. When Ludwig turned his head, he saw light through the curve of Thomas’s shoulder.

“She’s right,” Ludwig murmured. “Your outline’s thinner. I can almost see the wall behind you.”

“Always dramatic,” Thomas scoffed, though his voice wavered. “It’s just the lighting.”

“No,” Ludwig said. “You weren’t like this in Solania.”

Thomas opened his mouth to retort, but no words came. His lips moved; the sound lagged behind. Lorina watched quietly, the pond’s light reflected in her eyes.

“There is a way for him to avoid Necros’ pull,” she said softly.

“It’s this guy’s fault, he’s keeping me here!” jerking a spectral thumb at Ludwig. “But I’m listening. I’d rather not end up some lost wraith. Or seeing Necros… I haven’t lived long enough… or died long enough in this case.”

“How about you become a bound spirit?” Lorina offered.

The chamber stilled. Even the drop from the stalactite seemed to hesitate before falling. The pond’s mirrored surface caught all three of them, living, dead, and divine, folded into one reflection.