The mind is a wicked weapon. If used right, it can kill for you; if you let it rot, it can turn on you.

Within my mind, I freeze to a slow death. I created this prison inside my mind for locking away my enemies for eternity.

The mind is a wicked weapon. If used right, it can kill for you; if you let it rot, it can turn on you. I know of this, yes. I knew how to use it; how to lure others with it; how to kill with it.

Alas, I was captured. Within my mind, I freeze to a slow death. I created this prison inside my mind for locking away my enemies for eternity. They will be chained and become prisoners for all time that I live. And the chains, they are the immovable, imperishable memories that haunt them. 

No one on this world can stand that pain, the torment of old memories and still keep their sanity from slipping.

I am now captured in my own prison and left to rot here with the mindless foes whom I've led here myself. They will pay. When I get out of this prison, they will pay for their ignorance. My memories are not filled with grief as like my foes'.

I cannot be held prisoner as my prison was meant for those with grief, guilt and honor. I have none of those mortal feelings. I am omniscient; omnipotent. My memories are full of rage and anger and lust. Lust, yes. Lust to taste the blood of those who chained me here; blood of those Human fools who think they have defeated me just by capturing me in my own mind.

Soon, the guardians of the prison, the Normane Bloodseekers will come to inspect my cell. They will know that their master is locked inside and I will be released. And those fools will know my wrath; the wrath of Sadean, the greatest sorcerer the world has ever seen.

Larks were flying over the ocean beds looking for flying fish that can be grabbed in their hungry beaks. The Sun was setting showering the ocean bed with a bright dying orange light that scattered on touch and spread all over the water floor as sparkles. The island of Heah’J was slowly sinking behind as the battleship Howerten cruised at a brisk pace toward Thali, the homeland of the Humans. The sight ahead would have been bliss to see after the weeks of camping inside the dark forest of the Heah’J if not for the fact that only three of the eleven warriors who set out to capture the necromancer Sadean were returning in the ship.

Gergle’s heart was heavy with sorrow. He had lost many soldiers in this pursuit. Tears dried on his sweaty face and began to itch. He made to wipe them but a searing pain shot up in his forearm and made him remember the cut given by the necromancer himself. 

‘Arrogant bastard,’ he cursed under his breath as he wiped his face with his other arm. 

He glanced at Bedri sitting solemnly by the end of the steering room. Her face was hidden beneath her usual long cape but he knew she was crying by looking at her body which was shivering slightly. The Elite assassin of the Imperial squad is crying? It was a bitter thought indeed. But then, the Imperial Squad did not exist anymore as only three of them were left.

The capture of the necromancer was ordered nine days ago by the Emperor himself as the Empire was in constant fear that the man would raise an army against it. And not just any army, an army full of dead - their dead. 

The war would be hard to fight indeed. Trying to imagine swinging a sword against the dead body of your father or mother is a hard to achieve feat for anyone who was living with a heart. And so the Imperial Squad set out to capture this Master of Death Lore. The man was the founder of the Death Lore. He had found a means of shedding his manhood and turning into an element of Shadow. 

A being like no other, the man would not give up so easily when he was cornered by the Imperial Squad’s Elite. He opened up warrens like lightning and the Squad members were blasted back seven feet with the force of a winding Behederin bull as the warrens hit them squarely on their chests. 

What the Imperial Squad was unprepared for was the fact that the necromancer opened eleven warrens at the same single stroke of his hand and targeted all of them at the same time.

No other necromancers that they had captured or killed in their fifty years of being the Imperial Squad opened more than two or three warrens at a time. The man was really a master of the Death Lore. He was adept at one thing and one thing only – Death. His first hit killed one sapper and weakened four others. They had enough strength to stand and face him. 

The Imperial Squad teamed up once again and combined their skills as they had many times in fifty years.

The sappers threw their cussers at the necromancer with unerring skill and the archers lightened them just at the moment when it reached near the face of the necromancer with their ignited arrows. The swordsmen rounded up the man the moment after the blast and thrust the long swords into the cloud of smoke that rose after the blast of the cussers slashing the smoke out of the air. They had done this several times before in their life. So there would be no mistake, or so they thought.

But just when they thought they had done everything right, a blast boomed ten paces behind them and all of the swordsmen received a big whack on their backs. One was lost as a black net closed around him and pulled him into the necromancer’s open arms. The man disappeared inside the necromancer’s chest. The necromancer glowed blue for a second and then in the blink of an eye, opened another set of six warrens and blasted the archers back killing almost everyone who took arrows against him.

Only five remained the Imperial Squad and they realized it was too late to retreat. Their friends, team mates and partners were dead before their eyes and revenge blocked all other senses they had. As the necromancer began cackling like a madman, Gergle saw the High Mage Hera open up three of her warrens against the necromancer. The power was enormous that even the necromancer stopped laughing. He had no time to react as one after another the warrens blasted through his body and vanished from sight. The necromancer swayed; so did Hera. Gergle just realized what had happened. It was the Soul Destroyer. Hera used her life force as fuel for the blast. She fell into his outstretched arms. He was numb with shock and pain to even cry out.

The necromancer dropped down. The others tied him and dragged him to the cage they had brought with them. His body was limp. But Gergle knew he wasn’t dead yet. He was trapped somewhere inside the void. He dragged Harllen there with his black net. So, it was still open when Hera hit him. There is always a chance that he dies there. But the opposite was also true. He had to kill him while his soul was elsewhere or the death of the others would be of no use. Hera did not give her life for capturing this monster; she would want him killed.

To kill the necromancer was against their orders. Gergle knew that but he did not care for rules anymore. His heart was filled with contempt. The cage was carried by the others while Captain Klaise retrieved all the bodies. Gergle approached her and shared his view but her reply was almost instant

‘You will do no such thing Lieutenant. We were given strict order to capture; not kill.’


Remembering those things now Gergle rose with a start as someone laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Daline, the only remaining sapper in the team was standing behind him. Gergle scowled.

‘You startled me! Is it time for my watch?’

The man nodded. Obviously he was in pain too. Gergle slowly walked towards the corner of the deck and descended a set of stairs. There was the cage which held the body of the necromancer. All Gergle wanted to do was tear the body into bits of flesh and throw it in the great sea. Instead he sat on the stool next to the cage and glowered at the body.

You want to tear my body boy?

Gergle turned around. The voice had to be his mind playing tricks on him.

Tricks indeed

He was not hallucinating. The soul of the necromancer was speaking to him from another realm. He sneered.

‘How does it feel to be locked in your own prison necromancer?’

Yes, I am in my prison. But I consider this a visit and not a capture.

‘A visit huh? So you will come back if I try to tear away your limbs bit by bit, will you?’ Gergle was shaking with anger at the necromancer’s calm voice.

Try to touch my body boy.

‘I WILL NOT LET YOU BREATHE AGAIN YOU BASTARD!’ Gergle was on his feet, he grabbed his long sword. He opened the cage and stepped inside. Rage took over his arms as he hacked away the limbs from the body of the necromancer. 

Captain Klaise, who was not a member of the Imperial Squad but sent as a Royal Guard representative, entered the room and quickly unsheathed her sword and pointed it at the Swordsman.

‘Stop IT GERGLE!’ she thundered. The man froze. The others raced in to see what was going on. The Captain slowly approached the man standing over the now decapitated body of the necromancer drenched in his blood. The man’s breathing was shallow but he was standing still, as though he did not know what he had to do next.

She edged closer to the cage and slowly spoke another command.

‘Gergle, step out of the cage and drop your sword.’

The man did not look up. He was standing like a statue over the flesh of the necromancer. The others followed suite when she motioned them to edge over to the cage. But they took no more than two steps when another voice spoke.

I was caught in my prison because my body was caught inside it.

They turned around but saw no one in the room. Their fearful faces turned toward the cage slowly. Klaise realized that Gergle had undone what Hera managed to do. Finally, Gergle looked up. His eyes were red and had a menacing glare like the ones of the necromancer. His mouth moved, but his voice was broken and distorted and resembled the necromancer’s.

‘Please go away, as fast as you can. GO!’ He bellowed the last word.

They all ran away from the room as the other voice cackled with derisive laughter. They ran all the way up the stairs without turning back; they ran to the row boat hanging at the southern end of the Battle ship. Bedri and Daline jumped into the boat as Klaise cut the ropes off. The boat dropped into the sea and both Klaise and Daline started rowing it away from the ship. They did not think it was possible to out run the necromancer but they had to try.


Sedean stood up and looked at the three limp bodies beside him. He felt his new body stronger than his old and brittle one. He smiled as he saw their faces twitch and shrink as though they were seeing the Lord of Death himself. 

Thus is the effect of my prison. Their own memories, their own imagination will hunt them down. They cannot escape from the prison. 

His memories were shed when he shed his humane life. So he would not be affected.

His memories were nothing but hatred for Humans and love for necromancery. It cannot affect him as he had no guilt, no fear, no remorse. So he could not get affected by the memory chains.

‘Klaise huh? I remember a Klaise from my past. She was beautiful too.’ He turned his back on the bodies and sighed. 

‘Now for the fools who rule these idiots.’

The End

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