- - - - -Current Status: Healthy - - - - -Mate: none - - - - -Relatives: none - - - - -Friends: Lock, Grisha

Occupation: Necromancer Likes: Lock Dislikes: Lock Hobbies: Surviving

Familiar wrote: Enduring Goblin Familiar The eyes of the Plaguebringer. (Riot of Rot Holiday Familiar 2016.) 0

Symbol wrote: Infectionist's Emblem Apparel A glowing plague rune; the sign of a true magical adept. (Riot of Rot Holiday Item) 0

Mate wrote:

"Hello?" He called, looking around. Everything itched. They told him he had to stay out here and meditate. He didn't want to be out here though. Nera said he could be a necromancer if he was strong enough. Father didn't like it. He didn't want to risk another ghoul. Another him. But Nera insisted, and took him. Left him out here. He was supposed to stay there, but it was creepy and he didn't like it.

"Is someone there?" He asked, sniffing the air briefly before sneezing. Things didn't smell good.

"Shh…" a voice hissed from nearby. "Very loud. Quiet."

He swung his head around, and looked down. Not far away, a small greenish colored coatl with dark blue-violet colored wings sat, tail curled around her legs and eyes closed.

"Sorry." He whispered, lowering his head. "Can I sit by you? I don't like it here."

"No. Alone. No help." The coatl replied, sticking her forked tongue out briefly.

"I won't help. Just...sit. Right there."

One of her eyes cracked open, and he was surprised to see that vibrant blue color reserved for the Lightning flight. Not what he expected to see so far in the Scarred Wastelands. She appraised him for a moment as he stared.

"Yes. Sit. Sick already." She paused and looked down at herself. "I touch?"

"...oh." Of course another necromancer in their trials would want to do that. "No, that would be helping."

She huffed indignantly at him. He was right. She didn't like that he was right.

"Sit away then." She snapped her eye closed, flattening her feathers against herself.

Sighing, he moved a good few feet away from her, and sat down. It was going to be a long trial.



"Hey. Many Eyes." She called. "Open eyes. Look!"

He opened his eyes and looked at the coatl. She looked pale and her pretty feathers looked awful. Yet she looked so happy about it. He frowned, then looked down at himself. He used to be a sort of steel color, with brown wings. Despite his parents colorations being thr same, his father's old colors from before the trials usually slipped through. Now he was a rather unsightly red.

"Second trial now." She sounded excited for someone so sick. He didn't reply, instead curling in on himself a bit more and shuddering. Everything ached and itched. He couldn't smell much anymore; not that there was much to smell outside of sickness.

He had gathered some things for himself while he had still felt agile. Plants and other things to eat. His mother used to whisper useful herbs to him in his egg. His father taught him how to survive. Dry things to make them last longer. At least he wouldn't starve. Nor would the coatl. When she hadn't been meditating, she had hunted. He used salt to preserve his food. She used fire, usually humming to herself in what he guessed was the language the Coatl spoke. The first few days it had been annoying, but now he didn't mind it. It meant they were both still alive.

"Many Eyes?" She asked when he said nothing. He whined a little. "Survive. We survive. Be friends after trials."

"Sure, Plumes." He smiled tiredly. "If I don't...at least give me a name when I die."

"No. You survive. Get name then." She replied in as stern a tone as a hatchling just turned adult could give.

"Probably better I do. I don't want to be named `Many Eyes’." He laughed a little. It was better than nothing he supposed. Nera had told him he didn't have a name until he came back from the trial. The head Necromancer of his home lair hadn't been around to stop her, and the other Necromancers hadn't noticed her half stealing him away. His father had only allowed it because Nera saved him. There was no love between his father and Nera. He didn't even serve Nera! She was just a mean show off trying to prove that she had done such a good job curing his father that one of his offspring could even become a Necromancer.

The Coatl refused to give her name until she finished her trials. She had vaguely mentioned both her parents were proud Necromancers. Her father had taught her many things before sending her out here. She wouldn't fail him. The Mirror believed her. He didn't have a strong lineage of Necromancers to put his faith in. Just his father, who had failed his trials horribly. Not exactly a winning pedigree there.

She was looking at him curiously. "Yes, you die I will give you a bad name, so no dying."

Her common was getting better at least. She'd been embarrassed when he corrected her the first time, explaining that it was hard for her. He promised he wasn't being mean with the correction, and after a little convincing, she believed him.

"I'm trying. And no helping. Does talking count as helping?" He asked.

"Not sure. Stop talking?" She asked.

"Suggestion, request, or just asking if that is what we should do." He lifted his head slightly. She considered for a long moment before grinning a smug, toothy grin at him.

"Yes." She stated. He snorted.

"Alright, just remember you started this talk." He teased. Indignantly, she flicked her tongue out at him.

"Maybe I care less if you die now." She didn't mean it. She was smiling just a little too much.





Technically, he supposed...he had begun the second trial a while ago. He'd been fighting this for a lot longer than she had been. But the trials were 23 days, and sometimes that meant having to go through one phase longer than the others. He just wished it was the third one, not the second. This was horrible. Even Plumes' proudness was being dampened by this.

"Better survive this Plumes... can't call you Plumes if you fail and never grow your feathers back." He called.

"Shut your face." She called back. "It is saying things. Again."

It hurt to laugh, and doing so caused him to start coughing. He quickly decided he needed water. It helped soothe his damaged throat. Slowly; carefully, he hauled himself to his feet. She lifted her head slightly to glance at him.

"Yes, go. You are breathing too loud." She said. Will you be gone long was what she meant.

"Enjoy the silence while it lasts." He replied, trudging off. He didn't think he would be gone long. "No cheating and taking my things."

"My things better." A grumble came from her. When he gave no response, she assumed she won the conversation. He didn't mind in the slightest, more focused on walking.

She lay there for a while, waiting for the sound of him shuffling back. But that sound never came. An hour passed. Perhaps two. She wasn't sure. But long enough that she decided to go look. Getting on her feet, the Coatl made her way towards the river. If he was still there, she could just say she was thirsty and go back. But he wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere.

"Many Eyes?" She called, sniffing the air. It just smelled like infection and sickness. "Many Eyes, I take your things if you don't come back soon."

Nothing. Worried, she looked around for a while, but there was no Mirror. Just some foot steps going to the river...then nothing.

Maybe he was hunting? He had been looking pretty bad, and had eaten through a fair bit of his reserves. Yes. That made sense. He was hunting. He'd be back.

She made her way back to her spot, and relaxed. She just needed to survive a while longer.



He never came back. On one hand….nobody could accuse her of relying on someone else. She’d gotten through the second trial almost completely alone. Maybe he would be there on the last day. She’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t miss his stupid breathing, and random comments. Hopefully he wasn’t dead out there. If he was, she would really have to think of a better name for him than Many Eyes. Despite the teasing, he deserved better.

Tomorrow she would know if she could live up to her parents standards. Tomorrow, she would either become a Necromancer, or be destined to serve another. For now, rest and food.

The coatl stood before her assessors, looking as confident as she could. It was masking the sadness that Many Eyes was not here.

A mirror sat directly before her, tail coiled around her legs, flanked by a very tall ridgeback and a wildclaw. Behind them she spotted a snapper Necroservus, who seemed to be looking elsewhere. Odd to see the Necroservus here, but...honestly it wasn’t the strangest thing about today. A faintly familiar smell was in the air. It was off, sick...but familiar none the less. Distractions! She needed to focus.

A few other Necromancers sat off to the sides, but they were either uninterested, or waiting for others to undergo their own trials.

The ridgeback shifted slightly, looking back to the Necroservus. With a nod, the snapper got up to go retrieve...likely whatever they wanted her to infect and cure. That was not how today was going to go however.

Many Eyes was laying on the ground behind the Ridgeback, unmoving except for some breathing. He looked terrible.

“I want to fix him.” The coatl said, not really thinking this through before she spoke.

“That is difficult even for a full necromancer. You should finish your trials properly.” The Ridgeback replied, shaking her head. “Do not concern yourself with the Ghoul. We will take care of him.”

“I want to fix him.” The coatl repeated.

“I say let her try.” The wildclaw added, sounding bored. The ridgeback shot him a look. “What? There are plenty of us already in the lair. We really don’t need one more unless they can impress. She succeeds, she gets a place. She fails, we don’t have to carve out another space. Don’t give me that look, my dear. Do you really want to give up more of your duties to just anyone?”

“You can’t be serious.” The ridgeback scowled, turning her attention to the mirror. “Please be the voice of reason here…”

“Why do you want to fix him?” The mirror asked, unreadable.

“Because he breathes too loudly.” The coatl replied. “And he talks too much, and if he dies he gets a bad name because he said he’d survive. He survives, he has to be my friend. And give me a better name.”

“Ah, you’ve met then.” The female mirror considered. “You’re not allowed to accept help during you--”

“No help. Just talked. A little. He left his things, I did not touch them.” Narrowing her eyes, the coatl stared down the mirror. “He made it worse, not helped. Very annoying. So I will fix him.”

“Frankly that makes no sense.” The ridgeback snorted, while the wildclaw chuckled in a low tone.

“Just let her do it. We have to deal with him anyway.” The wildclaw mused. He was almost delighted when the mirror shifted, and gestured towards the ghoul.

“You understand that if you fail, this will...at best make you a necrosevus. At worst, kill you or turn you into a ghoul yourself?” The mirror inquired. The coatl nodded. “Very well. You must infect him further however, and that in itself may kill him.”

The ridgeback was not pleased...but she was also outnumbered. Huffing, she moved aside. It seemed the initiate was not dissuaded by any of this.

“Many Eyes?”

He hissed, thrashing about as she came closer. “Go away, Plumes…”

This would kill one of them, he knew it would. “Shut your face. Like this.”

Not hesitating she put her hands on his face, carefully wrapping them around his muzzle. He was feverishly warm...and she knew what she was about to do was not going to help. His eyes widened, and he struggled to get away from her as she began her work. This was horrible, but it was the only way she could fix him. She tightened her grip to keep him from shrieking, and pressed on.

Infection complete, she immediately began trying to cure him. She’d start with the easy part. Her own infection. After that she could deal with the rest. She could do this. She had to do this.

...and so she did. It took way longer than it probably should have. It was grueling, but she did it. Sure, she collapsed onto the mirror afterwards, but she passed. And now Many Eyes would survive.

When she woke up, she was still sprawled out on Many Eyes, though they had moved a bit. Probably to let the other initiates do their final trial. She carefully got up, and shook herself off.

“Congratulations.” The wildclaw grinned toothily at her. “You’re now the proud owner of a former ghoul.”

“Don’t make light of this, Arrhizus.” The ridgeback grumbled. “This never should have happened to begin with.”

The wildclaw just continued to grin until the female mirror shooed both her companions away.

“What do we call you?” The mirror inquired, calm as she had been before.

“Hm.” The coatl looked down at the vaguely awake neutralized ghoul. “What is the word for this?”

She pointed at the lock keeping the mirror chained up.

“That would be a lock.” Grisha noted. “Ah, I have the key to open that.”

The mirror blindly reached into her possessions, and pulled out the key. She pressed it into the coatl’s hands.

“I am Key.” She said, examining the object in her hands before putting it into the lock, and opening it. A knowing smile crossed Grisha’s face.

“And him?”

“Lock.” Key nodded, removing the lock and extracting the mirror from the chains as best she could.

“Better name than Many Eyes, so...thanks for that.” Lock grumbled, shakily getting to his feet. “I guess Key is better than Plumes too.”

The coatl preened a little, then grinned. Grisha chuckled lightly, and politely moved back towards her companions.

“I’m glad you survived.” Lock spoke in a quiet tone. “I had to leave so you wouldn’t get sicker because of me.”

“You survived too. See? Told you. Now we be friends.” Key replied, nudging him slightly.

“I’m pretty sure we were friends before.” The tired smile on his face matched his tone quite well, she noted. And he was saying things that were right. Well, that would not do.

“No. Only friends now. Never friends before.” He knew she didn’t mean it. She was smiling just a little too much.


Hatchling colors



- Art by Shadari

(Divider art from Poisonendpaper's Art Assets)