"Does that even exist?"
"How should I know? I'm a daimon, not exactly a heavenly being."
"Is heaven real?" Awe filled her at the thought.
"No. But can we do this another time? If we start chatting about the afterlife, we'll soon find out the truth for ourselves first hand."
"Can you even die?" She couldn't help the question slipping from her.
"Yes, I can die. But I don't particularly want to."
"Right. So, ideas?"
"I'm hoping we can come up with one pretty damned soon. I can fight them off but that doesn't seem to be slowing them down much."
One of the bodies stumbled towards Macey, grabbing out and trying to catch her. She threw water magic at the thing on reflex, hoping it would be enough to stop the thing in its tracks.
No such luck. She shouldn't be surprised. It wasn't like things had been going her way otherwise.
Lightening bubbled beneath her fingertips, longing to be released but she ignored it. While the magic was powerful, she could only direct it in one place at once, which was no good against the circle of dead bodies she'd found herself among.
Fire. That was the answer, even if unleashing that much power again still scared her. Knowing she had no other choice, she reached within herself and found the anger from before. She tugged it out of her heart, demanding it rise to the surface. Fiery pain lanced through her veins as the magic moved to the surface. This was it. The answer. All she needed to do was burn the bodies. A man without a head could still walk. Ash couldn't.
"Stand back!" she warned Luc and unleashed the fire. Heat streamed through her and the smell of burning flesh filled her nose. She closed her eyes, unable to keep looking at the bodies being set alight. Their skin was melting, their hair had already been burned away, yet still they advanced towards them. This magic was evil, torturing the dead even further after all they'd been through in life. In this moment, Macey really hoped there was an afterlife where these people could have a better life. Hopefully, they'd never know their bodies had been used as weapons by the Mahoun.
Luc lifted his sword, ready to defend them, but slowly, the bodies became slower as their flesh sizzled and turned into ash.
Tears were freely streaming down Macey's cheeks. In her mind, she knew she hadn't killed them, they'd already been dead, but her heart felt unbelievable loss and guilt. She was never going to be able to use this magic on living people, not after seeing and smelling what it could do. Never.
Despite the ache in her chest, she didn't stop until all of the bodies had burned into heaps of ash and bones. Bile rose up in her throat and she hunched over, retching. Luc put a hand on her lower back and a soothing tingling spread through her.
She wasn't sure if it was his magic or just his presence, but it helped get her stomach under control. She wasn't going to give up now. She couldn't be weak.
She stood and wiped her mouth.
"Let's go," she said quietly and walked away from the carnage she had caused, not looking back.
Luckily,the cells on the next level were empty. No more zombies for the Mahoun to resurrect. Still, they proceeded with caution, always aware that they were likely being watched. It was strange that the Mahoun hadn't tried to talk to them, or stop them. Maybe he was busy torturing Izban. Macey ground her jaw. As much as she didn't like the mage, she didn't want him to suffer either. She was one of the Wardens and as such, he was under her protection.
"I wonder how many people he's imprisoned here," Luc said after a while, staring at the endless rows of empty cells. "And why."
Macey grimaced. "Maybe not for any particular reason. He's an entity that feeds on belief, and a lot of people believe in evil, no matter the reason for it. It might be in his nature to torture and cause pain. He doesn't need an excuse to do so. He just does it."
"I fear you may be right about that," the daimon sighed. "Let's hope the next floor is something else."
However, before they could ascend the steps at the end of the room, a noise to their right made them turn. There was someone in one of the cells.
Macey stepped forward, but then remembered the dead bodies from before and stayed where she was, ready to throw some magic at whoever this was.
"Who are you?" Luc asked loudly, his sword tight in his fist.
"No one," a croaky voice muttered. "Go away."
"We're here to help," Macey said soothingly, realising that this person was actually alive, unless the Mahoun was able to make the dead speak. To be honest, she didn't put it past him.
"I'm no one. I don't exist. I can't be helped."
There was movement in the cell and slowly, a head peeked up from beneath a pile of straw. No wonder they hadn't seen the man before. He was old, really old, with almost no hair left and deep wrinkles covering his face. Hopefully, he'd been old before he came here and hadn't spent as long in the dungeons as Talon had.