Unholy Awakening

Rhea looked at the heap of laundry in her closet in dismay. It was time to do laundry again. That meant that two weeks had passed by since she had moved into her new apartment in Cairo, and she had yet to find a job. She hadn’t been in the city long enough to discover the right contacts to find the kind of job she enjoyed; she would have to settle for a mundane human job for the time being. Her savings account couldn’t support her forever.

She gathered up the laundry and tossed it onto the bed to sort while she contemplated her future. The battlefield was where she belonged, where she was trained to be. What was she doing renting an apartment and looking for a normal job? After glaring for a second at the white shirt she had absentmindedly thrown into the “darks” pile, she stood up and walked away. She knew she’d hate herself later for leaving piles of clothes on the floor, but she wasn’t going to make any contacts and find the employer or mentor she wanted if she wasted her nights doing laundry.

Belting her katana to her left hip and covering the whole ensemble with a long coat, she left the apartment. She had no idea where to even start this search, but a woman walking alone at night was likely to attract trouble, and trouble could lead her in the right direction, given the kind of occupation she was hoping to find. At the very least it would give her an interesting night.

On a whim, she headed away from the bar district that would surely be crowded at this hour and away from the bright streetlights. While she’d never get a decent view of the night sky in a crowded city, it would help to be away from the worst of the lights. Though she was always alert for any signs of danger, she paid little attention to where she was going; if it weren’t for her reliable mental compass of where her home base was at all times, she might consider herself lost, as she had no idea where she was anymore.

She found herself in a relatively poor neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. Very few people were out on the streets in this area, and it seemed like she wouldn’t find anything interesting on her walk after all. At least she was afforded a better view of the sky, thanks to the sparsity of the streetlights in this area.

Amun had grown annoyed with his work of late. There was too much to do, and he lacked the intelligent undead in his ranks to really give his workings any backbone. After an episode with an almost crusade of angels a century or two ago, Amun had been forced to lay low and quietly build up his forces again. But his sources told him they’d been crushed recently, by an enterprising demon that had killed them while they rested, never giving them a chance. The news had brought Amun to slaughter a town in ecstasy at being able to again swell his ranks. Ever since, he’d been sending his feelers out into the nearby areas, looking for powerful undead to recruit, and he’d located one in the nearby city. And so he had ventured from the fields that reminded him of the deserts that he had known and loved for so long into the city. It took him a full day and a half of travel for him and his squad of ten animated skeletons. They were armed with various bladed and blunt melee weapons, and armored with actual suits of steel plate. Spread out in a rough circle around Amun, they quickly cut down any living thing entering their radius, those slaughtered soon after rising to add to Amun's grotesque escort. The ground underneath his feet actually decayed, so tainted was it by his unholy presence. He reeked of dark, necromantic magic, and with every exhale, black smoke flowed from his mouth. His left eye, the cybernetic one, was constantly taking readings, directing him towards his quarry. The Damphyre Rhea. He knew quite a bit about her. Enough that he knew he wanted her on his side. Plus, Damphyre’s were always fun. So much potential locked away within their little half-n-half bodies. Silently, Amun strolled onwards, almost lazily. Time was of no concern to one such as him. Nothing interfered with his thinking and plotting, not even the horrified screams of the humans on the street as he progressed. The only effort and acknowledgement he gave them was to reanimate them and the focus required to guide them to do his will. Then he rounded a corner, and…There she was. He knew instantly, and his cybernetic eye zoomed in on her, essentially scanning her, taking in all her vital signs, muscle density, etc. A quiet grin formed over his bone dry face. His stride never broke, his troops never wavered. He simply called out, his voice tainting the air.

“Damphir Rhea, I am called the Hierophant. I would tell you to get on your knees and to praise me, but since you don’t know me, I do not expect such blind faith. So come, throw everything you have against me, prove to me that you are worthy, or die. This is the choice given to you.”

Feet lifting from the ground as he floated a foot and a half above it, Amun snapped his flesh and blood arm’s fingers, sending his newest recruits, mere shambling corpses (zombies, most would call them) at her, followed by the more powerful, and more cunning skeletons. Folding his arm and claw in front of his chest, staff still on his back, Amun grinned widely, though only the right half of it was visible behind the bone-steel armor. This had better’ve been worth the trip.

Startled out of her stargazing by a human scream, Rhea weighed her options for a moment. If it was simple human crime, she didn’t much care to be involved. But if it was something more…This could be intriguing. She continued to casually follow the road she was on, already heading in the right direction. More voices joined in the chorus, each one lasting only a few moments before being cut short. No gunshots and plenty of death. This definitely wasn’t human crime. Whatever it was, it was moving steadily towards her.

As she grew closer, she could feel the taint in the air that could mean only one thing. That stench of black magic, death, and rot was particular to necromancy. Undead or not, the presence of necromancy had always made the dhampir feel dirty; that distaste was probably a leftover from the human side of her heritage. Suppressing her uneasiness, she continued to calmly walk towards it.

When the first corpse rounded a corner about a block ahead, Rhea already had her katana out. Soon enough, armed and armored skeletons followed, as well as the sorcerer that must be their navigator. He immediately caught sight of her; of course, she had made no effort to hide. And why would she? She could handle a few undead. It was strange, though. His eyes seemed to work independently of each other. No matter. What would matter more in a fight, though, if it came to it, was his arm. His left arm and the left side of his face were encased in some very thick looking armor, and the arm ended in not a human hand, but a claw. Other than that, though, he wore no armor on his upper body, though she saw heavy boots showing at the end of his robes. Either he had an odd sense of style, or there was something wrong with the arm and half of his head. Did the claw even function?

What did shock her was that he apparently knew of her, addressing her by name. She had only been in the area for two weeks, and her name wasn’t well known in these parts. The rest of his arrogant speech, however, inspired nothing but Rhea’s laughter. The Hierophant? Surely this man was delusional. Power (or the illusion thereof) was known to do that to some people, and this man definitely thought he had quite of a bit of it. Whether he actually did or not remained to be seen.

Making a mental note that the clawed arm did at least have basic functionality when he crossed it over his chest, Rhea turned her attention to the onslaught of corpses. Not one was armed, and she sighed and quickly cut them down. When the skeletons grew closer, the real fight began. Despite only having one intelligent brain between them, these were more of a threat due to the armor and weapons. Individually, they posed no threat to one of her training, and it was easy enough to keep herself from being surrounded. The fight was still painfully slow for one of supernatural speed, leaving her plenty of time to think. How did he know her? The only true enemies she had were in Japan and hadn’t made a move in centuries, and no one else she knew had reason to hunt her down and kill her. If this “Hierophant” had allies nearby, how would she find them? Of course, the easiest choice was to wait for them to come to her, but she wasn’t one to sit around and wait for the assassin’s blade. Finally beheading the last remaining skeleton, she returned her focus to the more pressing issue.

“This is all you have to send against me?” Rhea spat on the body of the last skeleton, then laughed under her breath. What would Jaquelyn have thought? Rhea had become much more vulgar since her time in the Countess’ service. She changed with the times, much more easily than the ancient vampire she used to serve.

“Who sent you?”

Brief annoyance showed on half of Amun’s face at the Damphir, though it was soon replaced by interest and satisfaction that he had made the right choice coming here tonight. He waved his hand, telling the ghouls hidden around the block to stay put as the undead between him and her were decimated. She was just as good as he’d heard and felt. Very useful to him. Her question surprised Amun. He hadn’t realized he wasn’t the only interested party. He shrugged. It did not matter. He was a godling. Any resistance would be crushed. The undead tide could not be stopped. Only pushed back. Returning his attention to the damphir, he spoke, his voice twisting the air.

“I came myself. I am known as Amun Neb’Ankh. I am to be a god. Join my legions of undead, and assist me in creating a new world order. Well. After you’ve proven yourself.”

Chanting quietly, Amun produced his staff, unholy magic swirling around it, causing the eyeholes to glow a horrible red, and the gristle in the ribcage to pulse slowly. At the same time, he raised his claw arm and opened the claw, pointing its palm at Rhea. Little holes opened at the base of the fingers, and several small bolts made of bone fired at her. Finishing his incantation, the magic shot from the staff and imbued the shots with an acidic quality, before shattering them into tiny fragments that rocketed towards Rhea. They were interrupted as Amun released the rest of the magic in his staff, calling up a storm of stinging sand to whirl the fragments around her, making them far harder to dodge. Amun grinned. Now things became interesting. Just in case he muttered another incantation, severely cooling his claw to icy temperatures.

This would require some thought. Joining him? Rhea had no idea what that entailed, or what this “new world order” he wanted to create was. Proving herself, however, would have to happen either way, it seemed, to ensure her survival. When his staff, which looked to be made from the skeleton of some creature she’d never encountered, started glowing, she immediately realized that she should pay more attention to the proving herself aspect of this encounter. The night was turning out to be interesting after all.

“That’s a pretty seahorse you’ve got there. But what can it do?” Ready to dodge, she kept an eye on the staff and was surprised when the attack came from the claw instead, though her reaction speed was as fast as ever. At this range, the sand was more of an issue than the projectiles, simply because it obscured her vision. She was forced to shut her eyes for a moment, but she was out the other side in seconds, and behind the so-called Hierophant. Only a broken fragment caught her on the way through, burning through her jacket and clinging infuriatingly to her bare arm.

Without hesitation, she launched herself at her opponent. She wasn’t afraid of killing him and losing a potential employer. If he couldn’t defend himself against her, then he probably wouldn’t have been able to help her on her quest to better herself anyway.

Amun’s robotic eye tracked the damphir through the sand, up until she landed behind him. Grinning, he willed himself to rotate quickly in the air to face her, deflecting her attack with the armor on his arm.

“You’re fast, Rhea. I am impressed.”

That being said, Amun then clasped his unearthly cold claw over her wrist, which no doubt burned horribly.

“Poor dear.”

He then raised his leg and kicked Rhea square in the stomach, letting go of her wrist at the same moment. Flexing his claw, Amun finished his earlier incantation, coating most of his armor in solid ice. He wasn’t terribly worried about her sword, but better to keep his expensive cybernetics as safe as possible.

“Come on, you've a ways to go to earn your place here.”

He knew this would have to end soon, though. His ghouls were getting impatient and hungry, which would eventually make them more of a liability than assistance. The human authorities would surely be arriving within ten to twenty minutes, even with the undead he’d left to waylay them. If this battle didn’t reach its crescendo soon, they’d both be fighting the humans until the city had exhausted its population. Which would be tedious.

Although she had expected him to block her initial strike, it shocked when that he caught her hand. No one had ever been able to catch her like that in a fight. The claw held her firmly, but she was already twisting her arm away when he suddenly let go and kicked her in the stomach. Those heavy boots of his definitely didn’t seem to impair his movement. She rolled to her feet almost immediately, gasping for the breath that had been forced from her lungs. Her arm burned where the claw had touched her, and if she were human, she probably would’ve had frostbite just from that brief contact; that must have been more of his magic. She had never had much training in fighting magic users; this would be good practice, at the least.

Deciding to err on the side of caution now, and still trying to pay attention in case he had any more undead around, Rhea circled around him. She had regained her breath, but she had learned this one wouldn’t be cut down easily, like so many necromancers once their servants were removed from the picture. Maybe she could benefit from some arrangement with him.

Amun arched an eyebrow at the Damhire as she began to simply circle him. She hadn’t enjoyed being kicked, and that was amusing, as was her caution now. It was time to take things up a notch. He called out to her, as his staff again began to glow anew with power.

“Range won’t help you”

Bringing the butt of his staff down hard on the pavement, a ripple went through the earth, then spikes of bone and pavement began forcing their way out of the ground, aiming to impale Rhea. At the same time, Amun raised his claw, revealing an opening in the center of his palm, which glowed a sickly green, before firing a beam of stored magical energy, his cybernetic eye targeting for precision. He grinned, the spikes could keep coming for a while, and just follow her. He wondered when, or if, she would concede. He would be loath to kill her, but he would if it came to it. Would be a damn shame though. Not very many other intelligent undead were around, and he was in desperate need of recruits. Also, his ghouls were beginning to peek out of their hiding places, a few scampering out into plain view. They knew better than to attack though. Not without Amun’s permission.

The dhampir was starting to lose her confidence. It had been a long time since a battle had been truly challenging for her, but she had clearly been lax in her training in recent years, most likely a result of a lack of new training partners, an issue she had hoped to fix with her recent move. Rhea easily dodged a beam of magical energy, but had a much harder time avoiding the attacks of the pavement itself. They followed her in an unpredictable pattern, and while she managed to avoid the worst of them, it took all her focus. At this point, she saw only two options: find a way to defeat him immediately, or flee; while she could run in circles and dodge for quite some time, it was a terrible strategy and she would only grow weaker the longer it went on. While fleeing did seem the option most likely to ensure her survival, she was loath to miss out on such an interesting opportunity. She put her faith in the assumption that he wouldn’t kill her until she outright refused to join him, and continuing to dodge the spikes that never failed to follow her, she closed in to attack his unarmored side.

Having seen enough, Amun snapped his fingers again as he released his hold on the magic, and the many ghouls around skulked into view, surrounding him. One pushed its head against his leg, and Amun absentmindedly patted it with his claw arm. Amun had watched her dodge all the spikes and maneuver herself into an attacking position, if only barely. She could serve him well. His voice rasped out as he placed the butt of his staff on the ground, an orb of blue protective energy forming around Amun.

“What will you do, Rhea de Vere? I offer you power, thaumaturgy, a place in a legion unstoppable, good pay and board, and to see these puny rulings of men crumble down around them.”

He hoped she would agree. It would be a shame to waste such potential on a meal for a pack of ghouls. With an effort of will, Amun rotated until his armored side faced her. She was fast, and while it was highly unlikely she could break his barrier, it was never wise to underestimate an opponent. Another ghoul jumped on Amun’s back, clambering awkwardly up to his shoulder. Amun automatically reached into one of his nigh infinite pockets to grab a bit of meat that he fed to the ghoul, before petting it.

“Hello there, Nibbler. You did very well staying hidden. Have you successfully waylaid the human authorities?”

Upon the ghoul's enthusiastic nod, Amun smiled, feeding him some more meat. So they had some time yet.

Without thinking, Rhea redirected her attack to sever the head of a ghoul that appeared, before she even realized she was surrounded or processed his words. She was actually mildly surprised that she hadn’t been impaled by the pavement during her attack, and started to take the one opening he left before he turned his armored side to her. A blue shield seemed to materialize around him from the base of his staff. Finally the necromancer’s words registered in her mind, and she froze and lowered her katana, but kept it between them. Her body always seemed to be a few steps ahead of her brain while fighting.

“I seek training, not only power.” Rhea fully understood—and was sure the necromancer did too—that she was in no position to negotiate, but it was still worth a try. “I would become the perfect warrior. I would join you as long as it keeps me on the path to that goal.” Every alliance she made was temporary, though she had made some enemies when others failed to understand this. Better to state it upfront. When she could no longer benefit from the arrangement, she’d leave, with or without his blessing.

A wicked grin split Amun’s face as he watched her register defeat. Unfortunate about the ghoul, but the corpse would still be useful for other applications. Another of the ghouls dragged the corpse to the back, kicking the head in the same direction. At the woman’s words, Amun tilted his head to the side.

“You will be a demigod when I am through. Come, let us leave this pitiful town. I grow weary of the life here. Not to mention human authorities have been summoned, and there’s only so much my ghouls can do to slow them.”

Amun lowered himself to the ground, turning back towards his facility in the plains. Hissing quietly to direct the ghouls, he began leisurely walking, not waiting for a response from Rhea. She would follow, or another hiss would send the remaining ghouls to swarm over her. He returned his thoughts to his numerous other plots and schemes. There was much to be done. Reaching up, he absentmindedly petted Nibbler, who chittered happily. Nibbler was the head of this pack, which usually never left Amun’s side. Nibbler especially seemed to have taken to Amun, usually right next to him or on his shoulder. Whispering instructions to him, Nibbler turned to watch Rhea. He would be the one to give the kill order if she did not follow.