Dorothy and Haben stood before the children, their new forms cloaked in obsidian-black robes, intricate arcane symbols glowing faintly along the fabric. Their faces were pale, now transformed to a grayish hue, and their eyes shimmered with an unnatural glow. A quiet awe filled the room as the children stared at them—some wide-eyed, others trembling.
"It... it didn't hurt," Dorothy began, her voice softer but steady. "The moment I said yes, it felt like something ancient touched my mind. My head filled with knowledge I never studied, about raising boneguards, building structures, and channeling dark energy."
Haben followed, his tone a bit gruffer. "It was like a thousand whispers filled my head all at once, but I understood every single one. I... I feel like I could raise skeletons from the soil with a whisper."
The children murmured among themselves, a mix of wonder and jealousy flickering in their eyes. A few younger ones clung to each other.
"Will we turn into that too?" one boy whispered.
"I want to know magic too," another muttered, his voice trembling with excitement.
Vanthelis stood nearby, watching them. He stepped forward, his tone calm but firm. "You will. When you're older. When your bodies are stronger. This path is not an easy one. But if you follow it, your time will come."
The room went quiet at his words. The weight of his voice, his presence, reminded everyone he wasn't just a fellow survivor—he was their leader now.
Vanthelis motioned for Dorothy and Haben to follow him, leaving Ishlar behind to keep the children occupied. The three of them walked out into the courtyard of the transformed mansion—now fully integrated into a Necropolis, its walls pulsing with dark energy, green mist floating near the ground.
"Now that you have your knowledge," Vanthelis said, turning to the two acolytes, "I want the both of you to begin working. We need infrastructure. Dorothy, I want you to construct Ziggurats around the estate—channel the dark energy. It'll provide you and the children with sustenance."
Dorothy nodded. "Understood, my lord."
Vanthelis turned to Haben. "You. I want you to move about 400 meters away from this main estate. Set up a secondary site. I'll send Ishlar with you. Start preparing for expansion and protection. This island is vast, and we can't stay huddled here forever."
"It will be done," Haben answered without hesitation.
"One more thing, Dorothy," Vanthelis said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The children. They're still too weak to rely on physical food, and our supplies are barely enough for the infants. You'll provide them with dark energy—you know how now. I know it will be hard on your body, but endure it."
Dorothy's face turned grim, but she nodded. "For the clan, I will."
With instructions given, the two split off to begin their tasks. Dorothy's hands glowed with dark energy as she began summoning the twisted spires of the Ziggurats. Around the estate, claws of bone and shadow erupted from the ground, dragging up ominous towers covered in skulls and arcane runes. The children screamed at first, but Dorothy's calming voice reassured them.
Haben, along with Ishlar, disappeared into the tree line.
Vanthelis watched the progress, arms crossed. It was strange, even now, hearing the constant eerie hum of the structures—the moaning wails, the rattling of bones shifting beneath stone. A sound only those attuned to undead buildings would recognize. A sound Vanthelis had always despised.
He sighed. "Maybe I should just get used to it... This is why I hated the undead. They're creepy. Loud. Ugly." He muttered to himself.
He turned, heading back inside. The mansion, though noble in its design, had taken on a grim elegance. Bones lined the walls, dark silk tapestries fluttered with unearthly wind, and the flickering green torches never died.
He made his way to his room, throwing himself on the bed. For the first time in days, he allowed himself to rest.
Morning came quickly. The sky outside was dim with an eerie mist, as if the sun struggled to break through the undead aura saturating the island.
Vanthelis stepped out, refreshed and determined. He saw the children cleaning, carrying buckets of water, and sweeping the courtyard. Dorothy, though paler than before, was instructing two older boys on how to handle the energy trickling from the Ziggurats.
Nearby, Ishlar adjusted his sword belt while checking supplies.
"Are you ready, Haben?" Ishlar asked, glancing at his silent companion.
Haben simply nodded, his expression distant, emotionless.
Ishlar chuckled. "Guess everyone's gonna be quiet around here now."
With that, they headed into the forest to the west, mist curling at their feet.
Back in the courtyard, Vanthelis picked up a broom and joined the children in cleaning. He wasn't above labor. Not anymore. Not when they had all lost so much.
This was their new life. And it was only just beginning.