Deus Necros

Ludwig spent the night among the elves.

It was strange how peaceful the forest could feel after everything else.

Not safe. Ludwig had long stopped confusing beauty with safety. The elven lands were full of things that smiled softly and could kill without disturbing a leaf. The World Tree itself carried a presence so vast that sleeping beneath it felt like resting inside the palm of a god that had decided, for now, not to close its fingers. But compared to Solania, Sloth, imperial dungeons, and palace politics, the quiet breathing of the forest almost felt gentle.

Almost.

By morning, pale gold light filtered through the high leaves of the World Tree, turning the inner palace into something half dream and half cathedral. Elves moved through the halls with hushed grace, cleaning after the banquet, carrying trays, arranging flowers, pretending not to stare whenever Ludwig passed. Thomas slept on a folded cloth near Ludwig’s shoulder until the moment someone opened a window, at which point the little fire spirit rolled over, muttered something about cold air, and refused to wake properly.

Kaiser, naturally, had not slept.

He spent most of the night complaining about elven wine, elven music, elven portions, elven furniture, and the lack of proper appreciation for liches who saved queens from time-related bodily dysfunction. At some point, he had disappeared. Ludwig had decided not to ask where, mostly because asking meant becoming responsible for the answer.

When morning came, Ludwig excused himself.

The Elven Queen received him in one of the upper halls, standing beneath a canopy of pale leaves with Lorina at her side. Miraless looked nothing like the broken old figure he had met beside the pond. There was still an ancient depth to her, something no restored skin or silver hair could hide, but she stood with the quiet strength of a ruler returned to her own body. The elves around her seemed to breathe easier simply because she was present.

”You are leaving already?” Miraless asked.

”I need to finish matters with the Emperor,” Ludwig said. ”The princess’s curse won’t wait politely just because the forest is prettier than the capital.”

Miraless smiled. ”You could stay longer. The World Tree does not often welcome outsiders twice.”

”Technically, I think it tolerated me twice.”

”That is close enough.”

Ludwig glanced toward Kaiser, who stood nearby looking deeply offended by a bowl of fruit someone had offered him.

”I should go before someone steals something sacred.”

Kaiser looked up. ”Why is everyone so suspicious of me?”

Lorina answered without hesitation. ”Because we have met you.”

”Prejudice.”

”Experience.”

Miraless’s smile lingered, then faded slightly. ”I too must meet the Emperor of mankind. Not now, but soon. The relationship between elves and humans has remained hostile for too long, and the world grows too dangerous for old grudges to remain comfortable.”

Ludwig nodded. ”I’ll mention that.”

”Do so carefully.”

”I usually do everything carefully.”

Everyone looked at him.

Thomas, finally awake enough to hover above Ludwig’s shoulder, rubbed his eyes and said, ”That might be the funniest thing you’ve said all morning.”

Ludwig ignored him.

Miraless looked toward Lorina, and her daughter stepped forward. The former acting queen, or princess again, or whatever elven politics had decided to call her now that Miraless had returned, looked less burdened than she had before. Not free of worry, but lighter. Her eyes held warmth when they settled on Ludwig.

”Come back,” Lorina said.

”I have a habit of doing that.”

”I mean it.” Her voice softened. ”Your company is good company.”

”That is a dangerous thing to say around me.”

”I know.”

Ludwig had no immediate joke for that.

Lorina smiled faintly. ”And thank you again for saving my mother.”

”I mostly brought the thief.”

”I heard that,” Kaiser said.

Lorina did not look away. ”Still. Thank you.”

Ludwig gave a small nod, awkward beneath the sincerity. ”Take care of her.”

”I will.”

”And make sure Kaiser didn’t steal anything.”

Kaiser sighed loudly. ”This is defamation.”

Miraless looked at two nearby guards. ”Check the eastern relic hall.”

Kaiser clicked his tongue. ”Fine. It is accurate defamation.” Kaiser threw a ring towards the queen who caught it in a smile.

That was about as heartfelt as goodbyes were allowed to become before Ludwig began looking for an exit.

So they left.

Ludwig walked from the World Tree with Thomas perched on his shoulder and Kaiser moving beside him openly, hands folded behind his back like a noble child touring a garden he had already decided was inferior. The elves guided them partway through the hidden sanctum, then let the forest take over. Once again, trees widened. Branches lifted. Roots shifted aside. The path outward opened through the ancient green.

Thomas looked around from Ludwig’s shoulder, his small butterfly-like wings twitching now and then as if enjoying the forest air. ”Good seeing you deciding to join me again,” Ludwig said.

”Well,” Thomas replied, stretching his tiny arms, ”it’s always surprisingly fun being with you.”

”That sounds like an insult preparing to land.”

”It does come with a lot of stress,” Thomas added.

”There it is.”

Thomas turned his ember-bright gaze toward Kaiser, who was walking on Ludwig’s other side. ”Though I never expected you were the same lich from back then.”

Kaiser arched one pale brow. ”Why would you think that?”

”You look younger. Noble-level young.”

”Nobility is overrated.”

”I agree,” Thomas said. ”Most of them are snobs.”

Kaiser looked at the little fire spirit with something close to approval. ”You may yet become tolerable.”

”So what now?” Thomas asked.

Ludwig sighed.

The forest around them was too peaceful for that question. Birds moved somewhere in the high canopy. Leaves whispered against one another. The path curved between ancient trunks, the morning light clean enough to make plans feel easier than they were.

”The question I dread the most,” Ludwig said. ”Let’s get to the Empire first.”

They continued through the forest.

Kaiser remained outside the Codex.

That, more than anything, kept drawing Ludwig’s attention. The former Lich King had grown very comfortable appearing when he pleased, but walking openly was another matter. He did not need to be seen. He did not need to breathe fresh air. He did not need to step over roots and complain about damp moss.

”You really want to just walk in the open?” Ludwig asked.

Kaiser gave him a sideways glance. ”I hate being in that book. Feels stuffy.”

”It’s a magical codex connected to death.”

”Exactly. Stuffy.”

”You lived as a lich.”

”I had better interior space.”

Thomas snorted from Ludwig’s shoulder.

Kaiser continued, ”Also, most people will not recognize me. Besides a few from Solania, who is going to look at this face and say, ah yes, ancient lich who summoned a Necropolitis?”

”You do have an annoyingly innocent face now.”

Kaiser ignored him. ”More importantly, you will need my help with that curse thing.”

Ludwig’s attention sharpened. ”You know how to lift it?”

”Yes.”

Ludwig waited.

Kaiser did not continue.

”Kaiser.”

”I think.”

”That is much worse.”

”It will not be pretty,” Kaiser said.

”When is it ever?”

”Rarely. But in this case, the Empire’s hatred of dark magic will make it more irritating than it needs to be.”

Thomas folded his small arms. ”At least this way, the Empire might have to take a second look at their laws against dark magic.”

”They better,” Kaiser said. ”So far, they are getting their ass kicked for not knowing how to use it.”

”Not the most diplomatic phrasing,” Ludwig said.

”Diplomacy is for people who plan to fail politely.”

They reached the teleportation gate near the forest without incident.

The imperial guards stationed there did not stop them. A few gave Ludwig sharp looks, recognizing him from reports if not by face, but the gate had clearly been instructed to allow his return. Kaiser’s presence earned a few lingering stares. Thomas earned even more, because a tiny fire spirit sitting on a man’s shoulder tended to be less forgettable than court paperwork.

Still, Kaiser had been right.

No one recognized him.

No alarm sounded. No soldiers drew weapons. No priest screamed lich. The gate activated, light folded, and the forest vanished.

The Empire returned around them.

Stone. Metal. Human voices. The distant noise of a capital too large to understand quiet. The teleportation hall opened into imperial architecture, tall pillars, guarded corridors, banners, polished floors, and a layer of tension that seemed permanently built into the walls. Ludwig immediately missed the trees, though he would never admit that to an elf.

They moved toward the palace.

No one stopped them at the outer gates.

The guards stared, of course. Kaiser drew looks. Thomas drew whispers. Ludwig himself drew a different kind of attention now, the kind given to men who had entered imperial dungeons bleeding and returned from elven lands with a lich-child, a fire spirit, and probably another problem. But orders had clearly been given. The gates opened. The halls accepted them.

A bailiff received them near the inner chamber and hurried ahead to announce their arrival.

Ludwig, Kaiser, and Thomas waited in one of the reception halls. Kaiser looked around with open disinterest, examining imperial carvings, weapon displays, and tapestries as if assessing how much of it was worth stealing and finding the answer disappointing.

”Gaudy,” Kaiser said.

Thomas looked at a golden wall ornament. ”That thing probably costs more than a village.”

”Exactly. Gaudy.”

Ludwig glanced at him. ”Please don’t insult the palace while standing in the palace.”

”Why? Will the walls cry?”

Before Ludwig could answer, the Queen arrived.

She came not with the full formality of court, but with urgency held under royal grace. Two attendants followed behind her, along with several guards, though their formation loosened when she saw Ludwig. Her eyes moved first to him, then to Thomas on his shoulder, then to Kaiser.

They paused on Kaiser.

Ludwig could almost hear the question forming and decided to step in before things became complicated.

”You’re back already?” the Queen asked.

”Yeah,” Ludwig said. ”The solution was actually pretty simple.”

The Queen’s expression changed with immediate hope.

”Too simple, in fact,” he added. ”But, well, it’s a crime here. At least under current law.”

Hope did not vanish, but caution returned with it. ”What do you mean?”

”We need to fight fire with fire.”

The Queen’s gaze sharpened. ”Dark magic?”

”That’s why we brought this guy.”

Ludwig pointed a finger at Kaiser.

Kaiser stood with both hands behind his back, looking profoundly unimpressed with everything around him, including the Queen, the guards, the palace, and probably the concept of imperial authority as a whole.

Then a sword appeared beside his neck.

No warning.

No footstep.

No flash of arrival that Ludwig saw in time.

One moment, Kaiser stood unbothered. The next, a jade-colored blade rested close enough to his throat that even he went still. The sword looked almost as if it had been carved from jade rather than forged from steel, though the edge carried a pressure that made the room tighten around it. It was beautiful in a clean, lethal way, too simple to be ornamental and too perfect to be mundane.

The man holding it was the Emperor.

He was not dressed in imperial robes this time. No crown, no grand mantle, no armor of ceremony. Just a white shirt, dark trousers, and the calm expression of a man who had walked out of whatever private chamber he occupied because something unwelcome had entered his home. The casual clothes almost made him look less dangerous.

Almost.

His eyes were on Kaiser.

”What are you doing here,” the Emperor asked, ”in my home?”

Kaiser slowly raised both hands.

For once, his smile became very careful.

”I did not expect this guy to intervene...”

Ludwig looked at the Emperor, then at the sword, then at Kaiser’s throat.

Ludwig lifted one hand. ”Ah... Your Majesty. We’re here to solve the issue with Celest. Mind not killing the only guy who can?”

The Queen’s face had gone pale, though she did not move.

The guards had frozen in that terrible space between obeying instinct and knowing their Emperor needed no help.

Kaiser’s red finger twitched once, then became still again.

The Emperor did not lower the sword.

”Explain,” he said.

Ludwig sighed softly.

Of course.

He had walked into an elven forest to ask a dragon about a curse, returned with a former lich king, and expected the Emperor of mankind not to react badly when said lich king appeared in his palace.

Maybe this one was on him.

”Before that,” Ludwig said carefully, ”can we agree not to decapitate the cure?”