#wormguts

“Four fingers of the dust of the death mark death?” He muttered under his breath as he read, finger trailing under the words in the translation dictionary. “Is it tombstones?” He continued, noting the words down in one of his research notebooks and feeling more annoyed by the second.

He moved closer, only for his reading glasses to slip off his face and onto the worn parchment in front of him. Groaning, they leaned back in their chair, trying to make a concentrated effort on trying to relax, rolling their neck and listening to the cracks and pops.

“Fuck.” He whispered, shaking out his cramped hands. What he’d do for some booze that didn’t mess with his antidepressants right about n-

“Holy shit.”

Fingers is a measurement. Tombstone dust and bone dust would fit. It’s more of a riddle than gibberish. 

It might work. It’s stupid enough to work. Leo practically sprinted out of his study, scrolls tucked under his arm while he ran between the tall library bookcases, jumping over various cats and dogs and the occasional small deer or large snake that he cared for.

They stopped in front of Ianthe’s room, knocking only twice when the door was thrown open by a very grumpy significant other.

She looked up at Leo through a cloud of wild dark brown curls. Her purple glasses were askew, and the long t-shirt that was probably one of her moms’ went down to her mid thigh, acting as pajamas. She yawned, rolling her neck and revealing Leo’s familiar, Jet, curled around with her head settled in the curve of Ianthe’s collarbone. 

“This better be good babe.” She said in a monotone, sleepy rasp.

“It is!” Leo insisted.

“Is it interrupting my sleep at Four AM after I didn’t sleep for two days good?” 

“...Probably.”

Ianthe rubbed at her eyes, yawning again. “Good enough for me.” She muttered, turning and stumbling back into her room, Leo following behind.

As she got dressed and looked for a proper cloak for the drafty library studies, Leo explained their ideas, rambling and gesturing the whole time. Gradually, Ianthe perked up with interest, drinking in every word as she puttered around her room.

“That’s awesome, Leo. You sure you wanna try this, though?”

“Of course!”

“Leo.” Ianthe said quietly, turning to look at him. She always looked serious, but her eyes were blank in a scary way.

“Yeah?” 

“I trust you on this one, but you totally owe me next time I’m doing a project.” She said, a smile crawling up her face.

Leo sighed. Last time she called in a favor they had The Ultimate Pokémon Tournament of Wizard City, consisting of just Leo, Ianthe, and Ianthe’s moms, but it still managed to take fifteen hours and end in bloodshed. 

“Fine.” 

“Sick.” Ianthe said, grabbing a handful of quills and charcoal pencils. “Oh yeah, take your snake.” She said, tilting her head up and dislodging the sleeping reptile slightly.

“Kid?” Jet hissed quietly.

Leo rested his fingers on Jet’s head, rousing her more. “C’mon.”

Jet grumbled and hissed as she curled around his forearm, settling in and preparing to assist in a magical ceremony, which ended up taking an hour to set up. 

The arrays were complex, the lines had to be precise and the runes had to be perfect. Ianthe drew the eyes, spiders, spirals, and skulls around the outside circle, and Leo worked from within, drawing complex star charts and perfect circles and triangles. It was hard work, and it took magical energy the entire time, draining them gradually. 

When they finished, Leo was trying to rest while sitting in his position in the middle of the array, watching as Ianthe measured out the last ingredients. 

“Care to tell me what the ritual actually does?” She asked.

“It essentially imbues the wizard to cast the Animate spell completely cardless and wandless.”

“Minion summoning whenever?”

“Basically.”

The quiet filled the room again, little clinks of glass and metal making Leo twitch uncomfortably. He stood, cracking his knuckles nervously. 

“I’m ready to start.” They said, trying to raise their chin in a way that conveyed confidence.

“Just a sec, I’ve gotta get this right.” Ianthe said, bringing the measuring cup close up to look at it. “The alcohol measurement thing is weird, but I think I’ve got it.” She poured the dust into a silver bowl, bringing it closer with two hands.

“Sprinkle it around the edge while I recite some words at the cardinal directions, then it should start working. Don’t step in the circle, don’t-” Leo started.

“This isn’t my first necromancy ritual, Leo.” 

“I’m just nervous.”

“I know.”

Ianthe grabbed a handful of dust, standing right in front of Leo, at North.

“Animus.”

She moved slowly, letting the dust trail behind her like a flower girl at a wedding, reaching East.

“Theurzen.” 

Ianthe looked at him for a moment, before walking out of his view, reaching South.

“Youvanus.”

Silvery magic burst through the array lines, lighting up Leo’s face to look like a ghastly skeleton as Ianthe reached West.

“Sylven.” 

Leo continued to chant the four words in order now, as Ianthe reached North again. The magic began pulsing wildly, and off beat racket like two drummers at the same set. The power of it made Ianthe stumble back, exlaiming in fear as she was pushed back with more and more power until she was flung against a library shelf, the bowl rolling away and leaving dust everywhere.

Leo’s vision was filled with morphing and warping magic, the greys and silvers blinding him as they formed into something. Something he didn’t want to see, as he was busy trying to see if Ianthe had gotten hurt.

A chittering, clicking laugh filled the room, followed by a ghastly groan. Leo felt the magic drain out of him, felt his familiar tighten around his arm, feeding in more magic to sustain him before he passed out or died from shock.

Standing before him was Wormguts, the old terrorizer of Nightside, and Foulgaze, the vicious ghost who haunted Olde Town. 

Laughter filled Leo’s mind again as he fell to his knees. More and more undead crawled from the ground, destroying the decrepit wood boards of the library floor and disrupting the array. 

Ghosts, skeletons, ghouls. More and more, every single one more twisted or rotted than the last. They all snarled and chittered and laughed. The magic glowed brightly around Leo, and the world went silent. They could feel themself dying, could feel the magic stealing from them.

An ultimate sacrifice, it seems.

He internally laughed at that last thought, before dying.

He died and so did Ianthe. And it wasn’t fair.

In the end, Leo joined the undead army of his own making, following the orders of those he summoned. His body and control of it was dead.

But not his mind.

No, not his mind. He spent the next few years trapped, watching as his ghoulish body destroyed young wizards, those he knew, those he loved. He watched Wizard City fall.