The Necromancer awoke in a panic and immediately stood to his feet. Had he still relied on his weakly circulatory system; he might’ve been dizzied by the swift, orthostatic provocation. As it were; magic flowed easier than blood and did not rely on something as fickle as a weakly heart. Of all his nightmares; he hated the dreaded night the most. But as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, he was quickly becoming aware that even that dreadful presentation was not the end of his misery- things could still get so much worse for him. He blinked several times to verify that he was not dreaming. This nightmare was very much real and the four horses, the small, naked fat man and the sleeping girl atop the horses were, in fact; horrendously physical. Was this what the grand necromancer had been reduced to? Sleeping in some improvised barn together with the lowest dredges of the Empire? A foolish, disgusting slave-girl and a... He glanced at the impish, fat man and could find no words to describe his tremendous, purple backside. It was like glaring up at the moon. Enraged by the sight; the necromancer graciously made his way out the hatch by the use of his long, spindly legs. Unexpectantly; night had fallen on their momentary encampment, but the sight that greeted him outside soothed some of the strangulating fury of being nearly smothered by beasts... up above; he could see the bright stars twinkle down at him.

It was not the beauty of the scenery that caught his attention, but rather; the factum that Kerras could see where he stumbled around in the darkness. Curiously; the man had sat down on his knees to watch something in the distance- a tall, long-necked, furred beast next to a yurt.

Asrael closed his eyes and muttered out into the still air; “What the Hell are you doing, you fiendish idiot!? I told you to walk- how dare you take advantage of my inattentiveness!?” He might’ve whispered, but what Kerras’ undying mind heard was more akin to the screech of claws against a chalkboard. Had he been in control of his muscles; the man would’ve fallen to the ground in a shriek of his own, but Asrael’s iron will did not allow for such an expression of his agony. The Necromancer paused to cock Kerras’ head. This was valuable knowledge- the fact that his creations seemed to have at least a semblance of free will whenever he slept, but furthermore; he was intrigued by the factum anyone might live out in the dunes.

Kerras opened his mind to speak to his Master, only to be silenced by a jolt of agony. “Quiet, worm... I will have you follow that person. See where he gets his water and how he feeds himself.” Kerras was unwilling to do anything Asrael commanded, but resistance was futile... and the good Commander knew it. It never hurt to be prepared for the eventualities, especially when his companions had the obvious flaw of still relying on a heartbeat to maintain their locomotion. Thinking about the eventualities inevitably brought his mind back to the cool night and the work ahead of him. He imagined that the path ahead was one caked red with the blood of his enemies- or himself, should he be misfortunate... he needed to maximize his chances of success without burdening himself with any more intrusive thoughts and sensory input. He surmised he could circumvent the burden somehow, but how exactly... that would require some research. For now; it seemed the obvious choice was to increase the lethality of his army and had several ideas in mind for their improvement- all of which would likely alter them beyond what could easily be disguised as a human. Thankfully; it seemed he would easily be capable of leaving his army behind as he traversed into human territories- distance was not a hindrance, after all.

With a wave of his hand; he summoned forth one of the women from the shadows. Though similar; he could easily tell them apart, they were, after all, an extension of his mind. She appeared from the darkness- grinning lovingly at her master while presenting her flat palms towards him- the potentially potent weaponry at her disposal.

“This will hurt.” He warned as he sat down opposite to her on the dirt road and began his careful work.

Neda watched the magus with a keen interest from the hatch. The dumb, arrogant, fiendish man held the naked woman’s hands in his own- both of whom were barely visible in the darkness of the night. If it hadn’t been for the faint, green light they seemed to radiate from beneath their skins; she might not have seen them at all. As much as she disliked him, she could not deny the factum that she now walked without chains- unbound by any rules save for those of the desert and she had him to thank for it... him and the naked woman. One of his organic tools. Her mouth dried up and on her elbows; she could feel the sweat of her palms. It was a cold desert night, yet she sweated profusely... was this what the pale man had in store for her? Would she, too- just like her brother; be turned into one of his fleshy puppets in time? This was her time to run- to escape his frightening, inhumane clutches. A bright-green eye appeared over his shoulder as he turned his head to look disapprovingly at the voyeur. Her heart skipped a beat, but Neda was not the timid, frightened beast Asrael had made her out to be. Even in the face of danger- of a monster; she held her head up high and asked;

“Y-you know something about magic...” She could see him grit his jaws as he continued toying his hands over the naked woman’s long, thin fingers. Before he could unleash another monologue of his previous achievements; Neda continued. “I want you to teach me how to use my magic.” The fire and fury faded from the green bulb staring over his shoulder.

He looked back down at the hands in his lap and questioned; “What for? I cannot see how teaching you anything would be worth my time.” He spoke sternly.

Neda straightened her back and with a shake of her head, she jumped out the carriage’s hatch. “That’s none of your business! Just teach me how to use it!” Her hesitance sounded on the dust- it showed on her long legs and tremoring knees.

Asrael continued his work and spoke sternly; “I have never seen magic such as yours. I cannot teach you anything and even if I could; I am not looking for an apprentice.” She had spent her life pleading and begging- scrounging for mercy wherever she might find it. She was well used to cold-hearted, stubborn men, but seeing Asrael’s eyes when she had shown him her magic had inspired something in her. For once; she found herself unwilling... no... incapable of accepting this dismissal.

She was slightly less nervous as she took a step closer and said; “You promised Rallo you’d keep me safe. That’s why I’m here, right? If you teach me how to use my magic, I’ll be safer and you can forget about what your promised-”

Asrael looked at her with a wild, confused glare before sounding a chuckle. “You foolish girl. Do I strike you as the kind of man who would honor a promise? Promises are nothing but empty words- they mean nothing. You are here because you have a measure of use to me, but should that usefulness be outweighed by the burden you provide... well... I have ways to lighten that burden. I owe neither you nor that forgotten cloud of ash anything.” His inhumane grin made her stomach shift with disgust. The men... those despicable Inquisitors and before them; her own people had been cruel in their own rights. They had imprisoned her, abused her, starved her, but they had done so with understandable motives. She was a magus- a Demonic spawn forced upon the Earth... she had accepted it. She had followed their rules and obeyed their commands for most her life, but this man- this disgusting, cruel, terrible monster was different. He had no reason to look at her with such disgust- not after what he had said at the camp.

She was embarrassed twice over, but she remained in place; staring at his back to whisper; “I want to get stronger... I want to defend myself if they come after me again.”

He scoffed and let go of the pale woman’s hands to rise to his feet and glare at his stubborn companion to speak; “Why? You befit the role of being their little lap dog well. You seemed more than willing to discard your humanity for your captors.” He stepped up to her and glared his green irises down on her challengingly while grinning a malicious grin. She could still taste the woman’s milk in the back of her throat and feel her phantom fingers pinch her nipples and rummage around her genitalia. For all her years in the village; she had maintained her dignity- cast into that dark pit with naught but her brother and the other children. But Lena had taken it all from her- forced her to violate both her own and her flesh... Neda forced her eyes closed as she remembered the many horrendous evenings spent in her bed- lapping at her skin with a ravenous hunger and hating every moment of it.

“I did what I had to do. They would’ve killed both of us if I hadn’t-…" She nearly retched as her mind forced her to re-experience the terrors. Rallo was dead- despite all she had done to keep him safe. If not for Asrael, then she’d face a similar fate by long, once Lena tired of her or found someone more worthy of being her ‘daughter’.

She broke away from her terrors, stomped a boot to the dust and surprised him with a shout; “I’m not letting them do that to me again! I’d rather die! And I’ll take as many of them with me if I can! So please-” Upon hearing her plea; Asrael scoffed and pushed past her- nearly knocking her down on the dry desert path.

“For all your talk, you’ve learned nothing. Now; leave me be.” He stepped towards the carriage, but remained stalwart in his decision not to rest with the beasts. Instead; he’d go around to sleep at the front- beneath the twinkling, starlit skies. When she was finally on her own; Neda fell to her knees and cradled her face in her palms- shedding a few, precious tears at yet another defeat.