Lichen

When I'm necromancin', everyone's dancin'
No one can stop me, I dare you to try
The dead are infused with sensational groove
And they're comin' for you now
There's nowhere to hide

Necromancin Dancin
Bear Ghost

Travelers must tread lightly in the Tangled Wood. Beware! the signposts say—of quicksand, poisonous gas, sinkholes, undertows... But a warning few people say, and even fewer want to hear, is: Beware of the undead.

They are likelier to hear this in the wilds around Wispwillow Grove or Thorndark Altar— “And that’s where we are now,” thought Carmina, looking around nervously. “Oy, Mina! Help me get this log outta the way!”

“We really shouldn’t have come this way, Kim,” the Obelisk warned as she helped her sister push the log aside. “Remember what that old Spiral said...”

“Come on, this isn’t your first trip to the Tangled Wood! Anyway, it’s Trickmurk.” The Mirror’s face split into a gator-like grin. “Expect more tricks, ’cause things are gonna get...murky.” Carmina barely managed to suppress a groan. It was true that the inhabitants of the Tangled Wood tended to get more rambunctious as their festival neared. The two sisters, having visited their grandsire’s clan several times, were familiar with Shadow Flight ways. Their fun, their festivities...

“And also their fears,” Carmina thought. The old crone’s warning had seemed droll at the time, but now, with the trees and thorns closing in, it was as redolent of doom as any apocalyptic prophecy.

Beware of the undead, visitor. Go not off the well-marked trails...

It was Carmina who heard the voice first, whispering into her ear. “Just the wind,” she told herself—but her heart sank when she realized the surrounding foliage wasn’t moving. Worse, Kimberly had stopped, head cocked. She had heard it, too.

“Mina, look! Marsh lights!”

Carmina tamped down on her trepidation as, all around them, puffs of blue flame appeared. They emitted no heat, passing harmlessly through the hanging moss, swooping hypnotically back and forth as they drew closer...closer....

“Kim, we gotta go back!”

“Don’t be scared, it’s just someone having a laugh.” Kimberly’s four eyes narrowed. “I can see them over there!” Carmina looked, but saw only curtains of moss. Still, the wisps seemed to pause, and hope flared inside the Obelisk. “Could Kim be right? Is it just some prankster?”

The Mirror stamped her foot. “I know you’re there, little fella! You can come out now.” Silence reigned. The marsh wisps drifted closer, waves of cold rippling from them. Carmina felt her teeth chattering from the chill...and the fear.

“Seriously, you are on...well...probably very close to our grandsire’s territory! Stop messing with us.” Kimberly bulled towards the spot where the prankster was allegedly hiding. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with—”

With a whoosh! the wisps all darted away, vanishing behind the moss. Kimberly perked up. “Hah, that showed them! Whoever ‘they’ were. Erm...” This last bit was in response to the ground shaking beneath them. Something was coming up through the earth...something big.

With a tremendous crash, a nearby tree fell, carving a path through the undergrowth. The two sisters froze, shocked into silence, as something loomed out of the foliage, arching its neck toward them.

They found themselves grateful for the darkness, for it concealed much of the creature from view. What little of it they could see was all spikes and flanges, beneath matted dirt and weeds—faintly lit by the wisps, which were dancing in the eye sockets of an enormous, water-stained skull....

The sisters’ screams split the air as Carmina dragged Kimberly away. They scrambled down the newly-carved path and through the forest beyond, heedless of the brambles tangling in her clothes—

—and leaving the prankster cackling behind.

The screams of the fleeing dragons faded, and that was when the prankster finally slipped out from behind the tree. He was indeed a “little fella”, a Fae garbed in black, his eyes gleaming inside a deep cowl.

“‘Don’t know what I’m dealing with’, hm? Yeah, right! And you’re just a couple of little ladies, so far from home...”

He turned towards the colossal skeleton, and his frills waggled ecstatically again. “Not quite what I’d hoped for, but still very good...” He trailed off, chattering quietly to himself, his nimble talons picking bits of dirt off the skeleton. It was perfectly still now, like some grotesque statue—though the ghostly fires dancing agitatedly in its eye sockets gave away what it truly was.

The mossy curtains rippled again, and another dragon glided through: This one was a Skydancer, steady of bearing, her face concealed by a spiky crown. The Fae blinked back at her. “Ah, Violetta, how’d you find me?”

“The same way I always do: I followed the sounds of mayhem and screaming.” The Skydancer’s voice was dry. “Playing with visitors again?”

The Fae’s frills vibrated with indignation. “Hardly! I was at work when those two busybodies came crashing through the thorns. Good thing they were so noisy about it.” His tail coiled in glee. “Gave me enough time to set up a surprise and scare them off my digging site. No one’ll be coming by again soon.”

“You’re absolutely certain they didn’t see you?”

“That four-eyed brat thought she did! Then this beauty scared her and the other one away.” He looked fondly up at the skeleton. The fires in its eyes were growing darker now. “And no, I did not forget your requests. ‘Lichen!’” The Fae arched his neck, imitating Violetta’s pose. “‘Go out and find me a corpse. Not just any corpse, it has to be an Imperial!’ Well, I found one, though it’s looking a lot deader than most. Err...”

The blue fires winked out, and the skeleton silently collapsed. Now that the magic binding it was gone, most of its bones came apart. Lichen thwapped the skull with his tail. “Took me hours of asking around, both on this side and beyond. How can something so huge be so difficult to find?”

“They don’t want to be found,” Violetta stated shortly. “Most Imperials, when they die away from civilization, ensure that their corpses fall where others won’t easily be able to find them. This one is all bones now. I had hoped for something with more meat...but we can still make use of this one. Take it away.”

Lichen snorted, but bent towards the skeleton again, whispering to the air. More wisps of light appeared—much larger this time, and with definite shapes. There were claws, fangs....They scooped up the bones of the long-dead Imperial and turned inquiringly towards the necromancer.

“Try not to get lost on the way to the workshop! I had a devil of a time digging that up...”

“You’ve done well.” Violetta had been writing in a small, leather-bound notebook. She clapped it shut, and it disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Still, I would prefer something more substantial next time.”

“Yes, skeletons aren’t as fun as the fleshy, rotting ones.” Lichen tittered again. “Sometimes the stench drives people off faster than the sight of the thing does. Can you believe it?”

Violetta had to conceal a grim smile, because she wasn’t after the “fleshy, rotting ones” for “fun”.

“How many d’you want, though? Like I said, it took me hours to—”

“I’m uncertain. I’ll need to examine several specimens in the course of my studies.”

Lichen shot her an unfriendly look. “Why did I know you were going to say that?”

He saw Violetta’s mane bristle, and chuckled inwardly to himself. It was always so much fun to needle the stuffy Skydancer. His mind cycled through all the possible things she’d say, even as he considered several retorts—

“When I’m done with the specimens, I won’t need them anymore. Perhaps you’ll find some other use for them?”

All thoughts of repartee vanished from Lichen’s mind. He perked up, clearly intrigued. “Wait, what?”

“You’ll be digging them up, so it seems only fair that you get to play with them afterwards...once I’ve learned all about them, of course.”

“How about that! Guess you’re not such a stick-in-the-mud after all.” Lichen’s eyes glazed over as he retreated inwards, lost in a dream of pranks and schemes. “We’ll have such fun! I ought to try the Forum...but I’ve built up such a reputation around here already. Would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

“Lichen, have you been discussing your studies with others?”

“Alas, no one else is deranged enough for that.” He tilted one frill slyly. “Present company excepted, of course.”

“You should not have let those travelers escape.”

Other dragons might have balked at the violence implicit in Violetta’s words, but Lichen had heard all that and more. He simply chortled, “Not a chance! No survivors means no stories! And I love hearing the stories. It’s so good to hear one’s work being appreciated.”

With a last impudent tilt of his frills, he fluttered away. Violetta paused where she was, silently fuming.

“Still,” she reassured herself, “he’s useful. And those two minxes were right.” A smile, faint and grim, gleamed beneath her crown. “He really doesn’t know what he’s dealing with.”

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
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