Chapter 21: Purpose
The Necrot chuckled, closing the distance. She gave a brief nod of her head. "Well, well... time finally has told how loyal you've become. I didn't expect you to abduct him here this soon. I asked for him last night, besides..."
She sounded like someone impressed by another. But her words suppressed her growing admiration with a soft, yet commanding tone.
Silvan Ferox clenched the sword with a firm grip. Same as when he had looked sideways last night before answering the Necrot's question.
The metal emitted a cold feeling when he touched it with his palm.
He replied in a simple tone, "Frosthaven is completely under your control." Our king obeys your orders, so our lives are safe..."
"... I know. "Your king's order makes everyone in your pavilion act the same," Nymera said, her tone gentle. She stepped, almost tiptoeing, around Silvan. Her eyes had a seductive, predatory look.
Silvan didn't stiffen his neck, nor did he become tense.
"May I ask why you requested him?" Silvan asked, his glance landing on the unconscious figure to his left. "He only has a flicker of dark magic on him, but has no mage body.
Do you have a grudge against him before getting back at him now? That's because consuming the soul of a non-wielder is like eating a wrap of fish in salted cabbage..."
Nymera let out a gentle chuckle. Her tone seemed jesting. She held her answer, moving a few paces to Zmey. She bent there, pulling a two-second glance at him.
In contrast to what Silvan Ferox suggested, she had a lively and somewhat playful glint in her eyes. She looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with him.
"I would have laid more emphasis on him in our last discussion if I had a grudge against him. He's one unlucky soul that interrupted my business with Nero," she said. She turned her head.
A playful smirk crossed her face. She moved the tip of her long black fingernails over and over Zmey, a kind of excited look spreading over her.
Silvan's face grew into something hardened. He turned the sword away from his chest. He held it straight by his side, the handle sending biting sensations through his palm as he clenched it.
"If you get Nero Norman too..."
Nymera, as if she had read his mind, answered right away, "I'd use him well to ascend to the next stage. The Soulforge Mage Body sucks. Greater heights, greater challenges, and greater fun!"
Excitement dripped from her tone.
Her back faced Silvan.
He moved towards her. A sharp blue light glinted behind him at that moment. His movement was slow, somewhat like he was gathering his thoughts about something.
His face grew sour. The sword tightened in his fist.
"How well did you use the Beast Tamer's power years ago? And... the villagers you slaughtered like unlucky hens... did you kill them for fun or...?"
Nymera, still accessing her 'about-to-be-ready meal,' asked, "I didn't kill that many villagers in Frosthaven... do you remember? And which...?"
"I'm not talking about Frosthaven," Silvan interrupted in a firm tone.
That was the first time. The Necrot halted in her action – he interrupted her. Her behaviour dragged on in a sluggish manner. She smirked.
"That Beast Tamer you captured with your companions... the one contracted with a Terramagma beast," Silvan made it clear.
He stopped at a safe distance away. Silence stretched for a few seconds. The howling of the wind seemed to echo in that limitless space. The Necrot rose from her knees with difficulty.
Her eyes had rolled to one side, indicating she was reflecting on what the man said. She had massacred thousands. She had faced some unworthy Beast Tamers.
And she had killed countless human underlings who were like Silvan Ferox.
But, as soon as she attempted to turn around, a flash of memory crossed her mind. She halted in her movement, brows creasing as she tried to recall that sudden picture again.
For a few more times, she tried, finally recalling in what felt like a minute. A silent "oh" escaped her lips, followed by a jesting smirk.
...
Nymera faced Silvan.
"After so many years, I have never known the beast you contracted," she whined.
Silvan groaned, squeezing the handle with force, "A Terramagma..."
"... Ymirhund wolf beast. A kind that dwells in the earthy realm of beasts." Nymera helped him complete it. She tilted her head with a slight smile. "It's the beast of that low-level Beast Tamer, isn't it?
How come you know about that fight, and even that you grew strong enough to make his beast your own tame?"
She crossed her arms.
"So, you remember after all? Guess he remained the resourceful and kind one as always... for still being in the memory of a vast killer..."
"Who are you? His son? Or apprentice?" the Necrot asked. It was clear that she was curious; her tone was serious.
Silvan stayed quiet, his breath growing ragged in fury. Nymera added,
"I heard the king praise you once. That, of all the wielders from Eldengrove's the damned Sanctuary... you were the only one in the pavilion who volunteered to come here.
At first, one would assume you preferred a quiet life and wished to protect the minority. But now, the true reason is obvious. We, the true magic's living symbol, feasted on Frosthaven before you came.
Your presence here... the years as the loyal dog captain... it's all to wait for a perfect time to take revenge on me. Isn't it? Revenge is why you're here."
She said it as if someone had already told her. Silvan clenched his fist.
....
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