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Tolerated Taboo

It was strange to see regulations on magic users imposed during combat, really, regulations of any kind. War was already more than just hectic, in fact, it was simply a mess, and trying to not break rules in the middle of a battle was enough to make one's mind crumble. In larger engagements, most magic users stayed at a distance, much like archers, firing attacks at a distance and resting between their tremendous effects. Rarely, however, enemies would get up close and a mage would have to defend themselves in close combat. If things went according to plan, foot soldiers would move forward from behind the mages and archers if enemies got up close, but then again, battles also wouldn't be lost either by those very plans.

The rules set upon him, however, almost seemed like they wanted his kind to all die in combat. There were very few like him and fewer yet still alive, a certain irony that was not lost on them. He was, by now, an elder, however, and a soldier did not reach that age without skill. A member of the Shehr species of Silth, a descendant of the Cape variety of foxes, he was very smart even for a Silth. He was quite small compared to many other members of the forest, standing just under a meter tall on his hind legs. Shehr, however were not the kind the other Silth seemed to want gone, but rather his practice.

Silth mages were quite rare, due to reasons unknown, so the fox-kin military had mostly foot soldiers and mages were generally beloved, especially healers. Jehst, however, was one of the rarest individuals, a Silth Mage in the practice of necromancy. There were only three Silth Necromancers known of at the time, a younger one who refused to join the war and two elders who had survived military campaigns over the years. Six others had been killed, no doubt due to the rules set upon them.

The hardest rule, was that they were not allowed to raise their own dead. Being that their most common adversaries were wolf descendants, the Grashen, and therefore much larger than themselves, there were often more Silth fallen on the field. The Silth, however, believed that raising their dead interfered with their spirits' journeys. Silth spirits were believed to aid their descendants and friends, and while necromancers often felt differently, they were to follow that rule with punishments unspecified for disobeying.

The other rules included that they must be close to the front line instead of with the other mages and that healing may only be used on them for combat wounds, not for the backlash of their spells. Being older, luckily, had gotten Jehst accustomed to the negative effects of his magic, though he was quite aware that none of the healers would help him even if he did get hurt by a Grashen's blade. Still, his village had protected him when he was younger as mages tended to disappear and he wanted to help keep his country safe from the invaders.

This battle, he knew, would help drive the invaders back, as they were attempting to retake the town of Jun, a large town, though not large enough to be a city, which was taken by the wolf-kin early in their invasion. Jun was currently being used as storage for food and a vital part of the supply line deeper into their forest. The king believed that disrupting the line early would help turn the tide as the Grashen were still pushing further into the Silth lands.

This was not a standard assault, however, and would not be a simple attack until they had set up a distraction. Considered a one-way trip by many of the participants, it started with a small group of soldiers from the king's new army, including one healer, four swordsmen, and two crossbowmen, along with Jehst. They were very careful to not be caught as they snuck through the outskirts of the town to the western side where they would meet up with a small group of Black Silth, an elite small army of specialists supposedly led by child heroes from the start of the war. They were a sort of scary folk-tale for the Grashen and a mythical band of heroes for the Silth, so they were quite surprised when they received the order to join them in the attack.

The Grashen guards were very sloppy and most were either completely unaware of the Silth sneaking around or taken care of quickly by the crossbowmen. The exception was when two guards were talking and one began walking toward the group. The crossbows made quick work of him but the second guard got suspicious when he stopped having someone to converse with, or at least someone who responded.

The wolf descendant became irate, likely from what he thought was being ignored, and began walking toward the group. Crossbows, however, while quite powerful, took a bit of time to reload, and they weren't ready. The swordsmen raised their swords, preparing to fight the wolf and fearing the mission could be lost. If they were discovered and an alarm were raised, the army standing by would have to charge in without the distraction and losses would likely be much higher, possibly high enough to not properly disrupt the supply line.

Thinking quickly, Jehst waved them downward, telling them to hide again. He inhaled deeply, centering himself and drawing his energy to his chest before sending it to the wolf's corpse with a thrust of his hands. It wasn't visible to most people but he could very much see it as a faint glow seeping through the fur of anything he attacked or controlled. He could also feel it, as it was splitting his very life force between himself and his target.

Slowly at first, as new acquisitions always took a second to adjust, the undead wolf began to rise. He looked over himself, sharing his senses with Jehst, though they were dulled due to the decomposition. Skeletons were blind, but also felt no pain, which given the two crossbow bolts in his chest where his heart used to beat, he would've welcomed, but since he still had nerves, he shared the pain the Grashen would've felt. It was a weird feeling, because he effectively was now two people, and one of them was dead. Slowly he would start to feel everything, which, while he was used to it, he still didn't enjoy. The cold wind against his body and the lack of circulation to warm him back up, the pain of the holes through his chest and his entire body getting weaker, slowly causing him to use more of his own energy to keep it moving over time.

Luckily, the Grashen had died recently so Jehst didn't need to spend nearly as much energy to upkeep his body, but it was quite a bit more uncomfortable in several ways. Freshly dead, luckily, were faster to prepare, and it only took a few seconds to gain full control of him. The Grashen quickly pulled the bolts out of his chest, which had nearly come out on their own from the force of the crossbows, and while it hurt more, Jehst was used to the pain. He then hid himself and sent the wolf-kin toward the other guard.

The living guard began to speak when he first saw him but the undead quickly raised a paw up and covered his own muzzle, a sign to be quiet as if he wanted to show the other guard something. He then waved his head away toward the woods and walked off, the living guard following behind. When the living guard walked past Jehst, getting dangerously close to where the other Silth soldiers were, Jehst stood and sent some of his energy to the Grashen, this time adding a bit of dark energy along with it.

It was a tricky spell to cast, it required him to use black magic, which was used for destroying, or rather, disappearing things, but not to use it directly. He would imbue some of his energy into it and send it to another creature, where it would fight the other person's energy. If the target wasn't expecting it the process was faster but it was always dangerous. He had never failed, but he'd gotten close, and at the time it felt like he was going to die, so he didn't want to face the consequences of getting it wrong. Still, he had done it many times throughout the war and had learned the proportions, as well as to include a little extra just in case.

The undead dropped limply to the ground as Jehst relinquished control over it, retrieving his energy to ensure he didn't run out before killing the living guard. Inside he could feel the guard's essence, his surprise making it easier to hurt him. It was like snuffing out a fire using more fire and it was not enjoyable for either of them. Still, the Grashen's light slowly faded and then disappeared altogether. Outwardly, he seemed to suddenly stand still for a few seconds, his ears back and his eyes wide, before suddenly collapsing limply.

He retrieved his remaining energy, rather than using it to take over the body, and panted softly, not enjoying the feeling of his energy fighting someone else's directly, an odd sensation of his entire energy being corrupted in some way. Looking around revealed several terrified Silth staring at either him or the two dead Grashen on the ground. "We should probably keep going," he said to them, hoping to keep their minds off of what had just occurred in front of them.

After reloading their crossbows, the soldiers slowly stood up and he could tell they'd never see him the same way again. His actions were typically obscured by everyone around him fighting, so it was quite rare for a soldier to see his spells. Still, he cared more about his people than his self, so he figured it didn't matter what they thought so long as he helped defeat the Grashen. They continued until they were close to the meeting spot to group up with the black Silth. It felt very tense, with no whispered conversations or even any commands. Once they arrived at the specified location they looked around, trying to find the other fox-kin in the area. They waited several minutes while searching, followed by hiding to wait for them to arrive.

Just as they'd began to speak again, about how maybe they had to continue on their own, a small fox, roughly the size of Jehst, appeared. He was completely black, from head to toe, and his fur had no reflection to it, even with the full moon above. "Is it just the eight of you?" he asked, standing seemingly alone. One of the swordsmen, Theril, being the highest ranking soldier, spoke with him and went over the plan. The black Silth kept speaking as though there were more of him but they couldn't see any others, "we found a place they are storing spears and arrows, lots of flammable things, and we have already stolen some oil to ignite it."

They then started to move with the new Silth in tow, just as carefully as before. They reached a large tent with four Grashen guarding it. There were also a few other Grashen who were patrolling the area and sometimes it seemed like random other soldiers would drop by. They seemed very disorganized, some wearing their traditional leather armor and some wearing nothing at all, simply holding spears. "Can you take two of them?" Sehlek, the black fox, asked Theril, who nodded.

They tried to sneak behind the tent and half of them managed to get inside before one of the guards noticed the fabric moving and turned around. The two crossbowmen raised their weapons and fired, hitting two of the guards, one on the middle of the chest and the other on the lower back. There was only one swordsman in the tent, however, so he charged the guard facing them. The other Silth heard the crossbows fire and ran around the tent to engage the Grashen before they could charge the few who were inside. When they reached the last corner they saw there were two black foxes attacking each of the remaining three guards as well as each of two other Grashen outside the tent who likely had just happened to be nearby.

Inside, the swordsman was having a hard time with the Grashen who seemed to be undeterred by the bolt in his chest. Jehst could see the two crossbowmen still reloading when the Grashen struck across the swordsman's side. It didn't cut, as they were wearing metal armor, but the axe the Grashen had was almost the size of the Silth's chest and threw him aside, taking the wind from his lungs and hitting his head on a crate, blurring his vision and making him quite dizzy. Before he could try to stumble to his feet, however, the Grashen charged the crossbowmen.

Jehst quickly charged some dark magic and sent some energy toward the Grashen who stumbled and fell forward, surprised by the attack from behind but fighting back almost instantly as he was already expecting combat. He was a strong adversary but very suddenly the Grashen's energy disappeared, leaving only his behind, which he then used to take over the body almost by accident. The sudden shift suddenly shoved him back to reality so suddenly that the Grashen on the ground was mimicking his movements for a few seconds before he could realize he'd taken the body and could separate them in his mind.

He told the other Silth to stop as several of them raced into the tent with their weapons raised. "You're a necromancer?" one of them asked, recognizing he was controlling the fallen Grashen.

"Let's be quick," Sehlek said as he walked in. "There are sure to be more soon..." he stopped when he saw the Grashen, standing still with three bolts in his chest. "Who's controlling that?" he asked as two black Silth carried an injured one inside, a large cut under his arm bleeding profusely. They laid him down along with the soldier who had been hurt inside the tent and the healer walked in, casting spells to heal the large cut first. One of the black Silth knelt beside the soldier who had been hurt and began casting spells to heal him as well, apparently they too had a healer with them despite how rare they were.

Sehlek pulled Jehst aside briefly while the others poured oil and helped the formerly injured Silth to their feet. "When this is over, I want you in my company. Akun will want you with us if you are willing, can I count on you?"

Jehst didn't know who Akun was but the name sounded familiar. He seemed to be being offered a spot as one of the mythical black foxes, which made him a bit excited. He asked who Akun was and Sehlek explained it was one of the commanders of the black Silth. Before he could agree, one of the other black Silth, who he could now tell seemed to be covered in charcoal dust, walked up and said "no casualties sir, we're ready to go."

"Do it," he said before waiving everyone out of the tent. Sehlek stepped out first to a Grashen with a one-handed scythe. It was common for them to use metal tools rather than purpose-built weapons. He stood more than twice the height of the Silth who jumped forward, sliding quickly between his legs and rolling after landing behind him, somehow both turning around and drawing a short sword with his right paw, a short knife in the other. The Grashen had attempted to hit him with the scythe, striking the ground where he had stood moments earlier.

Jehst noticed that the Grashen now had a cut on his leg, on the inside of the inside of his flank where Sehlek had passed through. The wolf-kin turned to face him but he had jumped up toward him, sinking his sword into the Grashen's chest who reeled and tried to grab him. Sehlek had also stabbed the short knife into the Grashen's sword arm and pulled himself up higher with it before pulling the blade and slashing at the larger creature's neck in one long, fast motion. He then kicked off his chest and landed on the ground softly, both his knife and sword securely in his paws.

The soldiers, Jehst included, watched in awe as the Grashen held his neck, his grey fur soaked in blood, and slowly fell the ground. It normally took two or three Silth to take a Grashen, simply due to their sheer stature, but Sehlek easily took one down alone. All at once, they were reminded of the plan as a wave of intense heat swept across their backs. They all ran out of the tent and into the nearby woods outside the town, turning only once they felt they were safe and hidden.

After a few tense moments they saw they were the least of the Grashen's worries. Dark plumes of jet-black smoke began to pour from the tent as soldiers dropped what they were doing to try to put out the fire. The oil, however, made it so when they poured water onto the fire, it spread further out, making a large mess of their attempts. Soon, they knew the other solders would strike from the east, the distraction from the western fire making it easier to retake the town.

They all smiled as they saw the chaos, their tails all swaying softly from a successful mission, knowing their fellow soldiers would be far safer as they infiltrated the area. Their job wasn't done, however, which they all knew from the yelling further east. The voices seemed to change from surprise to alarm and more Grashen switched from rushing toward the fire to rushing east, likely responding to the attack.

"Hope you're ready," Sehlek said to the group. "It's time we took this place back," he said as he got up and began calmly walking toward the town. The soldiers saw him doing so and got up from their hiding spots, quickly realizing there were far more black Silth than they thought. Jehst watched in awe as hundreds appeared from behind the group, seemingly having been hiding the whole time, waiting to strike. The Grashen in the area seemed to have thinned out, presumably most of them heading to the front in the east, as the black Silth, with the other eight soldiers, entered town.

The black Silth easily took care of most of the Grashen that came up until they reached the rear lines of the defenses. They could hear the loud clanging of metal weapons and armor in the distance, over the conversations of the Grashen waiting to attack, as well as the screams of various Grashen and Silth alike. "Archers," Sehlek began, a certain tone of confidence in his voice, "on your go."

Several black Silth Archers raised their bows and the crossbowmen followed suit. They fired and hit several of the Grashen, making many of them fall over from well-aimed shots at a short distance. Many of the Grashen noticed and turned around, their snarling muzzles quickly changing from being hyped to fight their smaller adversaries to an innate fear as if they'd seen an army of ghosts. The Grashen typically were eager to fight and would charge head first into combat but instead they held their ground, half of them unarmed and the rest holding their weapons in front of themselves defensively.

"Charge!" Sehlek yelled as he raised his sword and charge forward, the others following suit. Jehst took over one of the freshly dead Grashen, knowing the most effective way was to wait for a few moments before getting up so that he was in full control. Shortly before the black Silth reached them, the Grashen broke formation as one of their dead stood up, a scythe in one hand and a hand axe in the other, swinging wildly toward anyone nearby. This made it easier for the other Silth as they jumped up and around the Grashen, cutting them down quickly despite their size difference.

It took quite some time, somewhere around two hours in total, but the Silth had taken back the town and there were very few Grashen left, mostly fleeing the area in whatever direction they could. "No survivors!" several of the Black Silth yelled as they chased them off into the woods, but Jehst was more than exhausted. He'd killed several Grashen using his spells and many more with the dead he'd raised, but he was in no position to cast, nevermind chase people through the woods. He also had a few cuts from unsuccessfully dodging sword strikes and thought he might've gotten clipped by an arrow from a Silth, so he needed to tend to his wounds.

Eventually, patrols were set up and the town was considered fully secured, letting the surviving combatants rest and recuperate. Jehst noticed his medicine pouch was limply hanging from his belt, one of the ropes having been cut in the fray, and began to look over himself, cleaning off cuts and wrapping any that were bleeding. He was used to doing this on his own so he was off to the side while the soldiers of the king's new army cared for each other's wounds.

After a few minutes a black Silth approached him and offered to heal his cuts. "Are you sure?" he asked, never having been offered such a thing after a battle. "You know I'm a necromancer, right?"

"You're a Silth, that's all I care," the healer replied with a smile as she began disrobing him and using her spells to heal his wounds. It felt much better than simply wrapping them and he almost instantly felt like new, though still quite tired.

"Have you seen Sehlek?" he asked her, considering the idea of being in a group that actually wanted him alive at the end of a battle.

Her ears instantly dropped low as she replied, "he fell in the fight," her previously happy tone quite melancholy suddenly. "I wasn't able to save him. I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you did what you could," he started, hoping to comfort her while not showing he was sad to lose the opportunity as well as the man he'd seen as an inspiration, albeit briefly.

"He said to find you and ask you to join us," she continued, holding his left paw which was the last part that needed mending. "If you'd like, I can give your commander the orders and you can join the black Silth. Just let me know before tomorrow night or if you are asked to leave by your commander." She then got up and started to walk away.

Suddenly realizing he didn't know who it was he had been talking to, he stood and yelled after her, "who are you?!"

She stopped and answered without turning around, "I am Karti lin Surten."

The name gave him pause but he suddenly realized who it was. "You're one of the young heroes, aren't you? Of course, I'll join you," he replied without hesitation.

Written June 1st, 2023 by Reynard Loustaunau