Darkness from Beyond - The Beginning by Stefano Lanciotti

Author:Stefano Lanciotti [Stefano Lanciotti]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788890777257
Publisher: Nuovi Orizzonti
Published: 2015-02-14T05:00:00+00:00

Vama, the Necromancer, watched the activities of his acolytes from the top of a niche carved into the tuff of the main Catacomb. The propitiatory rites used to revive the dead were long and the slightest mistake could mean having to perform them from the start all over again.

The corpses were stacked side by side. The mutilated one next to the gutless one, the man who died from old age next to the one who died from the plague. A stench of decay hovered over the scene, but after years of rituals, none of the Necromancers seemed to notice.

Men covered with dirty gray cloaks murmured the long spells they were reading from the ancient tomes. Their hands waved in twisted gestures, clutching to powerful necromantic objects. There were paws of sacrificed animals on the altar, fans sewn with the skin of newborns, crowns made with teeth that were ripped off women while they were still alive.

The corpses started to shake. Then, they jerked, following the sudden movements of the acolytes and - at that point - sinewy helpers grabbed them to keep them still on the ground. The death-filled faces were contorting in silent and useless screams, given the decomposition of their vocal chords.

Then, the Necromancers used their ritual knife to carve the symbol of submission onto the forehead of the corpses to which a new life was being given. The impetuous gestures suddenly stopped and the Arisen staggered to reach the ranks of their peers in the Catacombs below, where they were to be armed.

It was wrong to call it a new life and Vama laughed at the thought that someone could consider it as such. The living had the gift of intelligence, compassion and honor. Although the soldiers of his armies did not possess any of those qualities, they had far more valuable ones. They were ruthless, faithful and cruel. They killed for greed. For ferocity. For hatred.

It had been a while since the armies of the Brotherhoods had fought in the open field, but his spies had reported suspicious movements on the eastern borders. Winged demons were too frequently flying over to survey the area and there had been several quarrels between his patrols and those of Shalthul. The one-eyed man certainly had something in store for them, but he would find them ready.

Vama returned to study a voluminous tome resting on a stone table behind him, leaning the low weight of his body on a dark wooden stick inlaid with mystical drawings. The torch that barely flickered through the darkness of the room carved sharp shadows on his scrawny face. His head was folded over his neck in a bizarre way because of a prominent hump that distorted his back.

He immersed himself in the book for a long period of time. He was deciphering the ancient symbols while following their intricate shapes with the filthy nail of his bent index finger. A vibration in the most remote corner of the room finally diverted his attention. He turned around and peered into the darkness.

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