Viktor sat in his window seat, gaping at the wonders of Genbofen. The vehicle followed the main road into the city and rattled on the cobblestones that paved the streets.
In the eighteen years of his life, Viktor had visited cities before, of course. Once or twice a year he had accompanied his father to the main market in Vengenholt to collect alms from the Church of Mortis and to purchase supplies for the Chipped Chapel. But Genbofen was something very different, five times the size of Vengenholt and with a population six times the size. For the young magic student it was a wonderful thing to behold.
The houses rose to heights of three, four, and even five stories above the street, and many of the upper floors jutted out beyond the main wall of the buildings. That was not important in the case of the main avenues of the city, but in the secondary streets the floors stood out so much that they transformed the roads into dark tunnels in which the sun, if it shone, penetrated the icy depths for a few minutes when it was at the zenith. In the winter months this could mean that these streets did not have any light and, therefore, they were only used by those who wished their businesses were not known, or those who preyed on the businesses of others. And it was even worse in the poorer parts of the city.
The streets of Genbofen were quiet at such an early hour. Before long they would be crowded with people going about their daily business. For the time being, they were still the preserve of the guards returning to their barracks after the night shift, the market vendors who arrived early to pitch their tents, and the office workers devoted to their work ready to make the most of the day after having finished. marched home late the day before.
A city like Genbofen was as prosperous and rich according to its bourgeois class.
Viktor could see other streets veering off to the left into the city's prosperous mercantile district. To the right were narrower streets that wound tortuously through the craftsmen's quarter and the poorer areas to the east.
And then, just two hundred meters further down the cobblestone road, he saw a reclining sign hanging from a rusted iron fixture on the outside of a sturdy stone building. It was an imposing four-story building with small leaded glass windows on each floor and topped by a proliferation of turrets and pointed slate roofs.
Viktor stared at the sign swaying in the gentle morning breeze from the river, which entered the city from the main street, carrying the scent of stagnant mud and rotten fish. And then he no longer passed his eyes over the city, but fixed them as his heart raced and a smile spread across his face.
On the poster, whose paint was peeling, you could see the image of a magic-looking staff crossed by a wand, it was the symbol of the imperial school of arcane magic.
Viktor wanted to jump up and shout that the carriage must stop and leave him there, at his goal, the place that would mark the beginning of a new course in his life, here in Genbofen. But Viktor had never been the most confident of men, and his inherent shyness now got the better of him. He stayed where he was and said nothing.
The carriage passed by and Viktor saw the street before them, and his attention was drawn back to Genbofen as new wonders of the city appeared before him. The carriage left the main street and entered the paved expanse of a plaza.
The wide open plaza was a stark contrast to the crowded houses, shops, and offices in the rest of the city. And it was also a fantastic sight, as it featured the temple to the six great gods and the temple to the Triumvirate, facing each other.
The square was dominated by the great Temple of the Triumvirate, a huge building with three towering bell towers and surrounded by its own walled enclosure.
Viktor lowered his head slightly as he passed the humble temple of the six great gods. Mortis, the god of whom his father was a priest was one of the six gods that made up the pantheon of the six cult. Although Viktor was not especially religious, he did possess a certain respect for the god of his father.
Unlike the imposing temple of the Triuvirado, the temple of the six great gods was made up of six smaller buildings
The frost was melting on the cobblestones and stone slabs of the plaza.
Some of the most devout or desperate faithful were already heading towards the different temples to attend the morning prayers, most towards the dominant presence of the Temple of the Triumvirate. The clear tone of a tolling bell could be heard above the spiers of the temple.
Then the carriage reached the other side of the square and entered the administrative area of the city. The tour was short from there, past the impressive Genbofen City Hall with its colonnaded façade and towering spiers, and past the massive building that housed the Merchants Guild, to a two-hour carriage station. stories high.
Viktor eagerly stepped out of the carriage as he clutched the backpack that contained his precious few books and what little money he possessed. But then he had to wait for her trunk to be unloaded while the older woman authoritatively demanded that the driver help her out of the vehicle before doing anything else.
Viktor was weary from the journey but full of excitement and silent enthusiasm for the adventure before him.
The burly merchant anxiously supervised the unloading of his belongings as soon as it could be done, then disappeared into the nearest inn, followed by the boor. The last thing Viktor heard through the open door of the establishment was the voice of the merchant demanding a room for himself and the young man whom, once again, he was presenting with great care as a nephew by his sister.
Viktor's trunk was unceremoniously tossed onto the street almost as if it were an afterthought by the grumpy coachman and his assistant. Then they climbed back up and led the horses, which dragged the creaking carriage behind them around the rear of the station, toward the stables.
With his fellow travelers installed in the nearest inn, Viktor was left alone in the street. At the other end of the street he could see the fortified structure of the west gate of the city, as impressive and imposing as the gate through which they had entered, passing under the portcullis and the embrasures of the mighty fortifications.
Viktor turned his back on the west door, as it was not the direction he wanted to go. He had in that city for the magic school.
Gripping the leather straps at the end of the trunk tightly and lifting the end of the trunk, he walked in the direction of the magic school.
♦ ♦ ♦
Taking a deep breath, his heart pounding with anticipation and his mouth dry with nerves, Viktor knocked three times on the door at the top of the creaking staircase.
He wished the blows were loud and sure, but in reality they were weak and pathetic.
Viktor felt tired after having to drag the trunk with all his worldly belongings along a stretch that had seemed as long as if he had gone from one end of the city to the other and back to the middle of the city. path.
He hadn't been able to afford a private carriage or sedan chair, or even hire a jobless dock worker to relieve him of his burden. His money was a finite resource, and he would continue to be at least until he graduated.
Viktor sensed movement on the other side of the door, and then it opened. Standing in the doorway, with the bare wood and the latticework and plaster of the attic ceiling visible behind him, was a tall, lanky young man, about Viktor's age, though judging by the undisguised expression of bitter weariness. of the world in his face, perhaps he was older than him. It was obvious that he was not amused to be disturbed.
The young man wore an ill-fitting robe, too short for his stretched body. He was worn out and in some places you could see a great deterioration, especially on his knees and elbows. He looked haggard and seemed to have not eaten well for quite some time. His hair was greasy and messy. In his long-fingered hands she held a skinny ginger cat that seemed to have eaten no better than the boy.
"Yes?" the young man asked irritably.
"Eh ..." Viktor hesitated. “I am the new guest. I will share your rooms. " His arm was beginning to feel tired from holding the trunk at the top of the bare wooden plank ladder.
"And are you?"
The cat shot Viktor a wild-eyed look, as if he were watching a fleeing mouse.
"Drichey. Viktor Drichey. "
“So old harpy Enye Hawk found someone dumb enough to share this drafty attic, huh? In that case, I suppose you'd better go inside. "
The gaunt young man backed into the room to allow Viktor to lift the trunk over the threshold, but he offered no help.
"Sorry, but I don't remember your name." Viktor said, hesitantly polite.
"It's because I haven't told you," replied the young man. “My name is Lieter. Erich Lieter. "
The ragged-haired young man closed the door just behind Viktor, then looked the hopeful apprentice magician up and down.
“And tell me, what brings you to Genbofen? You are not from here, that is clear. The force with which you pronounce the r's, betrays you shamelessly. "
"I…, I have come to study at the School of Magic," Viktor replied nervously, although his voice was not without a certain pride. "Mrs. Enye Hawk mentioned that you are also a student of magic."
"Fuck me," Erich replied as he fixed Viktor with an almost suspicious look as he stroked the cat in his arms.
Viktor couldn't help but feel a little dejected as he received another blow from his idealized image of what it would be like to study as a wizard at the famous School of Imperial Arcane Magic. This showed on his face.
"Look, there is no reason to make that face, it is not something serious, you know?" Erich said as he raised his expressive eyes to the ceiling. “My advice is that you get back on the carriage that brought you here and return to your place of origin. That way you will have a much more rewarding life, I assure you. "
"How is the school?" he couldn't help asking Viktor.
"An institution of old men whose minds are stuck in their own ridiculous arrogance."
Viktor looked at Erich, horrified. Erich did not miss the expression of innocent horror.
"Not bad if you don't mind being given all the dirty work."
"Aren't you guys having a good time with the apprenticeship course at school?"
“I have decided that it is a tedious and exhausting profession. You spend your time studying arid texts of pompous and old-fashioned language, recommended by teachers devoid of imagination, tedious, obsolete and groggy from old age; you're lucky if during the first year you even manage to cast a paltry zero-level spell successfully. But even that is more interesting than cleaning up when the veteran students have left the school, rather than practicing and getting better at using magic.
Erich paced the attic now like an actor delivering a soliloquy on stage while he stroked the cat behind the ears.
“Some manage to put their theoretical knowledge to the test in practical classes, barely managing to correctly execute the components to create a spell. But even in those cases, as apprentices, you practice under the direction of the school teachers who never have the time or interest to explain the correct techniques for using magic. If you want my opinion, those old school teachers are just taking up space uselessly. "
"And what about the headmaster of the school, Professor Theodria?"
“He is the worst of all. Anything I have to say is a criminal waste of the air we breathe, if you ask me, which, I hasten to add before you look at me like that again, is what you have done. You asked me. "
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
"Well, what is Genbofen like?" Viktor asked to break the conversation stalemate that the two new roommates seemed to have reached.
“It's okay if the smell doesn't bother you. In summer, the river, not to mention the open sewers that run through the middle of the streets, smells of demons; and in winter the fog can be so thick that you cannot see your own hand before your eyes. And the icy wind will freeze your bones to the marrow… especially in this room, ”he concluded, taking in the attic space with a roll of his eyes.
Viktor's disappointment was mounting, but he had to admit that he was colder there than when he woke up in the drafty carriage in which he had arrived in Genbofen that morning.
He began pacing grumpily around the attic, leaving the trunk where he was, and looked through the grimy glass of the closest of the two loft windows. He faced east, and over the rooftops was the tall shadow of the city wall. This area of Genbofen was an overcrowded neighborhood of dilapidated towers and apartment houses whose maintenance had been neglected for decades, far removed as it was from the commercial and administrative centers of the city. Ridged by a maze of hidden and nearly forgotten alleys and passageways, some buildings were connected by apparently inaccessible buttressed pedestrian bridges and wooden staircases precariously attached to the moldy brick walls.
Beyond the black line of the battlements, the watery yellowish ocher disk of the sun was transformed into a pale line that delineated the parapet of the wall.
Viktor realized that he had completely lost track of time throughout that incident-filled day in which he had first had to wait at school for what seemed like an eternity while his application was processed, after having the porter determined that Viktor was not an envoy from one of the most politically influential noble houses who requested the aid of a magician for his master and lord, and afterwards had had to seek accommodation in the city, since unfortunately the School of magic did not have facilities to accommodate students.
Look, that's enough. Even I am starting to get depressed. Let's go have a drink. "
Erich dropped the cat, which howled as it landed on the floor. He snorted at his fickle master and stalked to the other side of a dividing wall where Viktor saw the foot of an unmade bed.
"Ah ... uh ... okay," Viktor ventured. He wasn't used to that kind of thing. To tell the truth, he was not at all used to or comfortable with social relationships.
There was only one tavern in Chipped and Viktor did not feel comfortable in it. They all knew who he was, and his father would inevitably find out.
A village tavern was not the kind of establishment a priest of Mortis would choose to spend his time in, at least not Brechtal Drichey, and therefore neither should his son. But now Viktor was on his own, and while he might still not be the kind of thing he was used to doing, he didn't want to antagonize the new roommate he would have to spend a lot of time with and who was the only person he knew in an unknown city.
"Where will we go?" he asked.
"Don't worry," Erich replied, smiling for the first time since Viktor's arrival, though it was an expression that warned the latter of more awkward situations ahead. "I know a place."
There was only one tavern in Chipped and Viktor did not feel comfortable in it. They all knew who he was, and his father would inevitably find out.
A village tavern was not the kind of establishment a priest of Mortis would choose to spend his time in, at least not Brechtal Drichey, and therefore neither should his son. But now Viktor was on his own, and while he might still not be the kind of thing he was used to doing, he didn't want to antagonize the new roommate he would have to spend a lot of time with and who was the only person he knew in an unknown city.
"Where will we go?" he asked.
"Don't worry," Erich replied, smiling for the first time since Viktor's arrival, though it was an expression that warned the latter of more awkward situations ahead. "I know a place."
"What did you think of the class?" He heard Viktor ask a great voice next to him. The accent was that of the city of Genbofen itself.Looking back, Viktor saw another student trotting forward to catch up with him as he left the classroom. He appeared to be the same age as Viktor, with a neat head of blond hair and a fuzz of beard on his chin, trimmed in the style of what Viktor believed was the fashion of the imperial capital. He also weighed between five and ten kilos more than Viktor himself. The student clutched to his chest a half-open backpack with scrolls and a quill sticking out."Fascinating. Better than he had expected. "Better than you had hoped for? What do you mean by that? "“Uh… It doesn't matter. It has truly been everything he had hoped it would be. ""Professor Theodria is certainly an excellent speaker, right?""It is obvious t
At the moment, I find it hard to believe that I was ever so impressed by old Professor Theodria. His mind was as closed to new thoughts as an Adamantite strongbox reinforced by enchantments. There was no way that he believed that there could be another way, another way of knowledge far greater and more powerful than his own. Because deep down he was a coward who was afraid of those who dared to question the primitive and antiquated understanding of the world that he considered an irrefutable truth, a way of thinking that he clung with all his might like a dog to a bone. .The school principal was a cowardly and dogmatic fool whose position of power and influence was based on a weak-minded attachment to the knowledge and practices received from others.But looking back, as much as I may despise my memories of Professor Theodria, that is nothing compared to the hatred and contempt I feel, even now, towards that shitty Inquisitor, sow sonic, rotten sewer rat
During weeks of diligent study, Viktor also regularly received letters from his sister Karen about him. They always arrived when a carriage made a postal delivery from Vegenholt, the closest town to Chipped on the main routes through the Empire. Letters that had previously been brought there by some willing farmer who transported his goods to the town to sell.And amid all this hustle and bustle of Viktor's new life, whenever he received a letter from his devoted and loyal sister, it evoked the life he had left behind. Karen's letters kept him up to date on everything that was happening at Chipped and let him know that his sister was toiling there without him, taking care of his father and taking care of her needs. They were a comforting reminder of home. There was never a letter from his father.At first, Viktor dutifully responded to each of Karen's missives, as he had resolved to do, and sent the letters through the city mail company. But
The heavy oak door of the library slammed open, breaking the quiet, musty silence of the place. The room was usually almost sacredly quiet, as if it were a shrine, but this had now been broken by the arrival of the Inquisitor.He had the attitude of a man used to having to get what he wanted by force and being satisfied with it. And, of course, no weak apprentice magician was going to stand in his way.The man was over six feet tall, wore leather riding boots, and although he appeared to have reached middle age, this made him look even stronger rather than detract from his vigor. Viktor saw thick, rope-like muscles taut on the man's neck as he laid eyes on him.Felix's profile was of noble lineage, with a prominent and distinguished jaw, short gray hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were piercing sharp points of sapphire blue, and his teeth were bare as his lips parted in a fierce canine grin. He had the unmistak
"This is going to end right now!" the school principal roared as he rested his hands on the surface of his desk.Felix straightened and turned away from Viktor, his sapphire gaze as cold as a winter night."Why are you defending this bastard?" the Inquisitor asked in a voice as hard and cutting as an Adamantite sword. "Is it perhaps an indication of your own guilt?""This interrogation is a sham!" Theodria bellowed. "I would lend the same support to any member of the School in the face of such blatant lies and fraudulent accusations as these.""Unless he was shown to be a servant of the dark powers, of course.""Which young Viktor Drichey is not!""That has yet to be proven.""How can this boy be the 'Tomb Raider'? He arrived in Genbofen in the early spring, and the disappearances started much earlier, in the last month of winter as far a
What is madness? Do you think that I am crazy, I, someone who condemns his own soul through the practice of black magic? And for what purpose? For a few more decades of desperately decadent life? To become an outlaw from the world of the living when it is precisely the unbearable desire to live that has led me to study the forbidden rites of necromancy?I will tell you for what purpose I have done that. I have done everything for nothing, because it is the only thing I have now that I bare my soul before you: nothing. Nothing to show for two centuries of life; the lands that I once claimed as my own, the people who showed fidelity to me, all already forgotten.And the only thing I can hope for now is an ignominious end and an eternity in that twilight world of the realm of the dead, caught between the worlds of eternal rest and glorious life, unable to exist in either of them, both torturingly out of reach. . An eternity of torment. An etern
Within the harsh world Humans inhabited, the mentally ill were often forgotten and, for the most part, constituted a misunderstood, intolerant, and feared underclass. In fact, there were very few places that cared for them.At best, they were an embarrassment to their families, to be isolated from the world, both to spare their relatives embarrassment and to protect them. In the worst case, the madmen were accused of being possessed by demons and burned for witchcraft, in very rare cases madmen were taken for messengers divinely inspired by the gods. This was not the case with the unfortunate Sed.He was curled up on a bed in a small cell with a sturdy door reinforced with iron bands.Viktor was immediately taken aback.While the other patients they had cared for were old or at least prematurely aged from the lives they had led, there was no doubt that Sed was still a young man despite his sunken che
Viktor knocked three times on the door of the Headmaster's study. For a moment he didn't hear anything. Was he doing the right thing by going there, directly challenging the teacher, especially after what happened? Maybe the professor wasn't even in the study.After a few moments a "Come in."Taking a deep breath, Viktor opened the door and stepped into the room, the memory of the last time he had been there still fresh as an open wound in his mind.Professor Theodria looked up."He thought we had reached… uh… an agreement, after the… uh… incident.""Yes, professor, and I ... sorry to bother you." Viktor looked at his feet nervously. "B ... But there is something I want to ask you.""What do you want?"Viktor gripped his hands tightly behind his back to stop them shaking.“Today I hav
Father Wilkud leaned back in his chair while he rubbed his temples with callused hands, as if that might somehow help clear the fog of uncertainty and malevolent skepticism from his mind.Only then did he realize that he had become so caught up in the story of Brother Mateo that he had leaned forward to listen more closely.Wilkud felt a sudden chill run through him, spasming his frozen muscles and causing his entire body to cower in fear. His feet were numb with cold and the skin on his face felt as if it were taut and clinging to his bones. He had been so engrossed in confession for so long that he hadn't even realized that the fire in the fireplace had gone out.What time was it? Wilkud wondered absently. How long had the tale of the dying priest lasted? The brother must have been talking for many hours. In addition to being chilled to the bone, Wilkud had a raging hunger. Or was it the all-consuming doubt that he now
Viktor didn't need notebooks or hours of preparation to cast spells in the mausoleum. Theodria drew the power of death from this place, and Viktor could do the same. But there was no question as to what the strongest will was there.Viktor could still feel the evil presence of the Tomb Raider that lingered on the periphery of being aware of him. There was no time to lose. Viktor had to act fast while Theodria was still stunned from the impact of his initial assault.Viktor, the dark magician, cast a spell using as fuel the negative energy that he had absorbed along with his own inner mana, combining both energies to use black magic, to use Necromancy."[Reanimate the dead]"Hot, sticky blood gushed out of Viktor's nose as the dark power gathering behind his eyes shot out with a second spell. The bitter taste of black bile filled her mouth and she doubled over at the waist in excruciating searing pain
Viktor could imagine the rest for himself: Erich taking him back to the house, observing his progress after the change that Theodria had imposed on him, encouraging him to develop his necromantic abilities and strengthen his mind; VIktor's friend betraying him unbeknownst to the impressionable peasant boy, acting as Theodria's spy, determining when Viktor had honed his talent enough to become a suitable vessel to which Theodria could transfer her malevolent soul.It wasn't Viktor who had driven Erich crazy. It had been his union with the Tomb Raider that had caused him to gradually lose touch with reality. This bitter revelation brought Viktor back to the present moment with tremendous shock.He knew that he was going to die. For a brief moment he wondered if he should allow Theodria or whatever her name is to finish him off instead of letting the black magic she had turned her back on use him once more for his foul purposes.
"Professor Theodria. Impossible"Hearing Viktor's words, Professor Theodria put on a creepy smile full of evil"for the moments…. That would be my current name, although it is only one of the many names I have used ”Professor Theodria removed the ring and immediately returned to its repulsive and decomposing appearance.If Professor Theoadria was the Tomb Raider, who was Dr. Shandri Drake Tepes?At that moment, Viktor realized that it was not Theoadria who was holding the lantern as if he wanted to inspect the body of his prisoner. The necromancer's servant stood beside him, silent, his ghastly face white as marble polished in the flickering glow of light in one hand."W ... what do you want from me?" Viktor stammered, overwhelmed by the horror of the situation he now found himself in. He had to know why they had brought him there. He had to know why he was going to
Erich led Viktor off the street and led him for a hundred yards, then into the maze of back streets around the carpenters and woodworkers guild. As they moved quickly, they were talking."Erich, where are we going?""I can't ... I can tell you.""Why not? Are we going to the docks? "Erich took a moment to reply.“Y… yes. T… that's it. ""But I thought you couldn't tell me."Logic seemed to have abandoned Erich along with good sense.“I… I can't! Because you ho… you would be horrified. "Viktor's blood ran cold. What could it be that Erich was so desperate to show him and yet he was unable to mention?Suddenly, all of Viktor's suppressed doubts and worries returned in a moment of panic that made his heart race. Erich was walking away, se
I have done all kinds of evil in my unnaturally long life as a necromancer, but the irony is that it was the wrong actions of others that made me a necromancer.When Inquisitor Felix Crissinger accused me, in our first meeting, of being that hideous specter, the Tomb Raider, I was, thus far, innocent of any crime. If that accursed Inquisitor had subjected me to the ordeal of the rack and inevitably found me unjustly guilty, he would have been burned on the pyre of heretics and killed innocent in place of that wretched Sederit Hischer.But the real outrageous irony is that if the irrational inquisitor had ended my life, he would not have been able to turn me into the very thing that the temples and the inquisition made so many puritanical efforts to eradicate. He would not have turned me into the very thing that Felix had accused me of.So I ask you, who prompted me to commit so many unspeakable acts of depraved evil?Who made me mean?And what is i
Under a sky the color of wet slate, Viktor paused under the shade of a tree and looked across the fallow fields, toward his hometown. After a frustrating five days of travel due to low carriage traffic, he had returned home once more.Wayward thunderstorms chased swift tides of clouds across the sky, like wolves hunting sheep.Chipped still looked the same as ever. The forests that gave the austere town its name were dotted with gold and reddish bronze, and the blackened branches stood out against the sky.Frayed-winged birds circled over the cliff to which they had given their name, their squawks barely audible in the breeze.As he moved out of the way again to cross the bare fields, Viktor heard a painful sound that chilled the blood in his veins.The lonely tolling of the chapel bell reached him across the desolate landscape. It could only mean one thing, because the bell rang when: someone had died and passed from the mortal world to the twilig
Some even put forward the ridiculous and stupid idea that it had been spread by rat fleas. Those people should be locked up in a madhouse.Certain preachers of catastrophes declared that it was a condemnation that had fallen on the city.The general consensus was that smallpox was dying out as the end of the year approached, as the disease that had spread in the fetid heat of summer was unable to survive the cold of the coming winter.Of course, others, of a more religious slant, said that the wrongdoers had been punished and that the gods showed their mercy. There was even talk that some of the city's inhabitants would return before the end of the year.By the time he finished his drink, Viktor decided that he had heard enough already and returned to his house not daring to stay there any longer.Viktor returned home to him, but he was changed beyond recognition.Under the lacerated sky that bled wisps of smoke stained red by the setting su
What is death? What does it mean to die? Where does that immortal part of us go when we die? Or is this fragile world the only thing there is?As the son of a priest of the god of death, I need not tell you that Mortis is the most austere, demanding, and ruthless deity. He offers very little in terms of blessings and favors to the common man who does his thing, and yet we all beg for his mercy.All the souls of the dead belong to him and he greedily treasures them ... he is a cruel and ruthless god who knows no mercy.Do you think that what I say is heresy?Maybe yes, but I also know it's the truth.I have looked out into the other world, into the icy abyss of what some stupid people call the afterlife.I will tell you what death is.Death is the ultimate thief. It is stronger than love and more durable than time.You may wonder if it is possible that someone like me can talk about love. However, believe it or not, I have loved