Magic Murder Cube Marine

At the top of the mountain was an elegant palace built out of pale gray stone that had been darkened by age and neglect. The gardens and grounds were wild, but thriving. Glowing flowers crept up the palace’s domed roof, painting it with soft pink, purple, and blue lights.

The grounds themselves were ringed by double walls of magically shaped black granite with a ten meter gap between them. Francis was unsure why the architects chose the distinctive double wall design.

It almost reminded him of the slat armor they welded onto vehicles to protect against RPGs. Perhaps it was to protect the inner structures against siege weapons?

That was the other thing. He saw six towers set up equidistant along the wall. But there were no ballista or other defensive weapons on the platforms. The keep above Riverlark had plenty of them, so why didn't Brexis?

Another strange design choice was the lack of arrow slits or murder holes. It all seemed so sterile and clean, like an Apple product. But he figured there had to be a reason why it was built that way.

“So, how did this place defend itself?” Francis asked as they walked through the garden. “I don't see any trebuchets.”

“Magic.” Willow explained, stopping from time to time to gather a particularly delicious looking fruit or vegetable. All the plants seemed healthy, vibrant even. “Any large forces that attacked would be converted into new minions by the necromancers. Higher level attackers were dealt with individually, or swarmed by the undead.”

Francis shuddered as he imagined a wave of decaying corpses coming towards him, flowing over the walls like water. “Got it, don't fuck with necromancers.” He said as he picked an apple from one of the trees.

He magically cleaned it, then took a bite. The skin was a brilliant pink with crisp white flesh beneath. It was impossibly juicy and sweet. “Hot damn! That's a fucking good apple!”

Willow decided against pointing out that, technically speaking, both of them were necromancers. “You know, there's more to it than killing people and animating corpses. This garden is a good example.” She waved her hand.

The Marine looked at his apple with suspicion. He couldn't imagine how necromancy could be involved with fruit production. “Say again?”

“Well, necromancy doesn't just work on dead stuff.” Willow picked an apple of her own. She wiped it off on her sleeve and bit into it. They were just as sweet as she remembered. The gardens of Brexis used to be famous, back before Zed withdrew from the world.

“A talented practitioner can enhance living things too. These trees are resistant to blight, disease, and they bloom continuously. Any pests that would attack them are killed and become fertilizer.”

She put her hand on the trunk and offered some of her mana to the tree. It was gladly accepted, new buds opened as it drank deep. “We can feed them, tell them what we want, shape them to our will.”

Francis didn't know much about magic. But he had played Dungeons and Dragons with the other grunts a few times. He thought it was pretty cool how some lines in the dirt, a few rocks, bottle caps, and shell casings could come together to make a fantasy world. The character sheets always gave him trouble though.

“Um, isn't that more of a druid thing?” He asked, “You know, because of plants.”

Willow took his hand and continued towards the gazebo where the others were waiting. “Yes, and no.” She said, making sure not to sound too harsh. Francis was beginning on his path as a necromancer, and it was important to her that he learn the truth. It was good that he was asking questions.

“Necromancy gets a bad reputation because a lot of the people who practice it are assholes.” She plucked a white jasmine flower and held it out to Francis, pushing her mana into the bloom until it glowed.

“This flower will never fade, or decay. A druid would tell you that is wrong, that it disrupts the natural order of things. They believe it is better to allow rot and chaos than to take control. But they're hypocrites.” She tucked the flower behind her pointed ear.

“They say a child being snatched by wild animals is natural, as long as it isn't their child. They shape the minds of beasts and make uplifts, but complain when a house is built.” Willow tried to think of how to boil down the complex concepts into something Francis could understand, while still being truthful. Truth was important. She wouldn't betray his trust by lying.

“Fundamentally, when you get right down to it, we believe in control and order. We shape the world to our will. Druids sort of just let things happen.”

The Death Cleric paused, realizing she wasn't being entirely fair. “There needs to be a middle ground between chaos and order, otherwise you get isolationists like Zed ruling over dead cities. At least druids tend to err on the side of non-interference. So they do less harm.”

“You're pretty smart.” Francis said, leaning down to kiss her. He caught a whiff of jasmine and apples as their lips touched. “Thank you for explaining things to me.”

Willow looked up at him with her wide green eyes. She studied his face as if trying to see how much of her words he had understood. “I try my best to be objective, but it is important to me that you make your own decisions. I love my magic, and I would love to teach you more about it.”

She grimaced, knowing the words needed to be said. “But it isn't for everyone, and it is very easy to go down a selfish path. If you aren't careful, necromancy can make you into a monster. And I don't want that for you. I would never want that for you.”

To Francis’ surprise, Relativity radiated a strong sense of agreement. It didn't want to be wielded by some boring lich with a dead heart. It wanted a worthy king who would bring Brexis back to its former glory. (Even if Relativity was too nihilistic to believe that could ever happen.)

Visions of happy, healthy people walking down clean streets filled Francis' mind. Of honored dead adorned with gold tending lush orchards and fields. A city full of abundance.

He saw Brexis as Relativity remembered it. Not as an empire. Not as a force that sought to conquer, but a beacon of order and prosperity. A city built on magic that showed what was possible. A place where children would never know war, or hunger. And he could make it happen.

“Are you alright?” Willow asked, looking at Francis with concern. Relativity had a certain reputation.

“Never better.” Francis said, smiling as the vision faded. It had felt so real, so possible. But that was the trap, wasn't it?

“Don't worry, I'm not going evil anytime soon.” He assured Willow. “Relativity was just letting me know how much they loved the city. I guess it used to be one hell of a place.”

Relativity gave a feeling of affirmation and an eagerness to help. “Come on, we've fucked around for long enough.” Francis gave Willow a peck on the forehead. “Shiv and Julia are waiting.”

“Are you sure you're alright?” Willow pressed. “No sudden cravings for power or world domination?”

“Baby, I'm just a grunt.” Francis laughed. “All I need is a patch of land, a good woman to share it with, and enough money for a few beers with the boys. I’m pretty low maintenance.”

Relativity listened as Francis spoke. It had to admit, that didn't sound half bad.