Ilyana Rising

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Izobella had grown quiet after Ilyana’s induction to the power of the blood. Three months had passed. Three months gone, and in those days, Ilyana rose into power, gaining more skill day by day in the dark art of necromancy.

The girl was a lot like herself, full of vinegar, full of pluck. But Ilyana was a tad more rational, and Izobella attributed that to Ilyana’s situation. She was ignorant of the goddess Izobella served. Ilyana had no idea.

But it was best that way, Izobella thought. How many times had see been drawn out into the open to guide some misbegotten cult or sub-cult in the name of Ravnora, whom she once saw in the form of Tzeentch, the deity of mutation.

Even now, watching from the depths of her tower via a crystal, Izobella smiled, recognizing the dagger and shield combinations she had taught Ilyana only days before. This one was a quick learner. Yes, the blood infused in her body from the vampire court over in Wind dungeon gave her speed and strength, but the mind that used them, oh, what a mind indeed.

Already the girl had mastered necromancy; already the girl had mastered dagger, sword, mace, and shield. Bow crafting currently gave her something to think about, but that’s was due to the rarity of the raw materials.

But Ilyana would master that art, and archery as well. The question that really gave Izobella a challenge was: What shall she do with herself?

Author’s Note:
Thanks to the Ultima Online shard known as Whispering Pines. Your playground is magnificent:)


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