superjars
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The True Name of a Nemesis
by wildroses
Dear Mother and Father,
Your letter arrived today. I am glad to read Father has recovered from the necrotic plague he contracted, and sorry to hear Mother’s search for whoever created it is not progressing well. I do not believe my nemesis is responsible. While I judge Lord Darkstar to be capable of producing such a foul fiend, my confrontations with him so far indicate his taste in undead abominations runs to monsters which rely on brute physical or magical strength. He also appears to be content with terrorising Seabrook Village and has given no indication he wishes to expand his territory.
Tessa-Marie stopped writing as someone began hammering on the door. The visitor wasn’t familiar, but her expression of frenzied panic was.
“Has Darkstar unleashed another undead abomination, or kidnapped a child?”
“Kidnapped a child. Mine! The necromancer says he’ll kill Euphemia unless you meet him at the Cherry Blossom. Euphemia’s only two...”
“What’s the Cherry Blossom? Is it a park?”
“It’s a restaurant.”
Tessa-Marie opened her wardrobe. “I’d better change. I think that dreadful yellow dress Mother gave me would be suitable. It’s formal, and if he has another undead abomination waiting I won’t care if it gets ruined. Do you think the waiter will let me take a sword in, or should I hide daggers in my boots and sleeves?”
“The necromancer says he’ll kill Euphemia if you aren’t there in ten minutes!”
“Damn the man! Why does he always leave it to the last minute before letting me know he made a reservation?”
Euphemia was playing with Darkstar’s pocket watch, but when Tessa-Marie arrived, he reclaimed it. “Nine minutes, six seconds. Pretty slow by your standards. What held you up?”
“Changing my outfit,” Tessa-Marie puffed, glancing at the girl. She was glowering while trying to reach Darkstar’s watch, so Tessa-Marie assumed there had been no harsh treatment.
“You must be thirsty after all that sprinting. I’ll buy you a drink and dinner,” said Darkstar.
Tessa-Marie rolled her eyes. “No you won’t. You’ll tell the cook you’ll kill him unless we eat free.”
“Details. It’s the same result both ways.”
“You know Darkstar, you don’t have to take hostages when you want to see me. You can just ask. I’d say yes. I enjoy talking to you. You’re the first nemesis I’ve had who wants to talk about things other than world domination and my impending demise.”
“I could ask,” Darkstar agreed. “But I’m not going to. If I gave you a choice it means there is always the risk of you forgetting you agreed or deciding there is something more important than me. But if I kidnap a child there is no chance of you not coming, because there is nothing a hero values more than the life of an innocent child.” Darkstar placed his hand on the toddler’s brown curls for emphasis. Euphemia didn’t mind that, but she did mind Tessa-Marie picking her up and stepping away from Darkstar as it meant she was further than ever from Darkstar’s wonderfully shiny watch. Euphemia’s mother arrived as she started wailing.
“Euphemia! It’s alright, Mummy’s here! What did that horrible man do to you?”
“Nothing. It was the hero. Tessa-Marie, stop glaring. It was you. She didn’t start crying 'til you touched her,” Darkstar turned to Euphemia’s mother. “I have no further need of your daughter. You may take her home.”
The woman hurried away clutching her child. Euphemia started screaming in earnest as all hope of re-possessing Darkstar’s watch was lost forever.
“That poor girl,” Tessa-Marie whispered, watching her go.
Darkstar led her into the restaurant. “Euphemia’s healthy and her mother cares otherwise she wouldn’t have screamed like a banshee when I took the kid. Euphemia certainly inherited her lungs from her mother. There is nothing pitiable about that child.”
“Except her name.”
Darkstar considered this as they sat at their table. “True. But if she hasn’t the sense to change her name when she gets older like I did, she deserves to be called Euphemia.”
“What is your name?”
“Darkstar.”
“Your real name.”
“Darkstar.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Yes it is. You call me Darkstar. I call me Darkstar. All my minions have called me Darkstar since I was seven. It’s much more real than my old name by now.”
“Stop being pedantic! You know I’m asking you what your old name was.”
“Much worse than Euphemia.”
“There is no name worse than Euphemia.”
“Mine is. What should I tell the cook to bring you?”
After a few moments reflection, Tessa-Marie decided to ignore the hint. She reached across the table to twist her fingers around Darkstar's, and leaned towards the necromancer, carefully letting her blonde hair fall over her shoulders. “Tell me your old name. Please?”
Unwillingly, Darkstar smiled in appreciation. “This is the first time I’ve seen you using feminine beguilement to achieve your goals. I can’t say it didn’t have any effect. I love having you as a nemesis. There really isn’t much I wouldn’t give you if you asked. But telling you my old name is certainly one of them.”
Tessa-Marie pushed her hair back over her shoulders with her free hand. “Why are you being so mysteriously secretive about it? Is your true name your only weakness?”
“My what?”
“True names were popular among evil when my parents were young. A villain would remove the life from his body and send it into his true name, which he would then hide. That way, the only way they could be killed was if the killer knew their true name.”
“I think I remember Caster describing them while I was still training,” Darkstar said. “They aren’t a safe path to immortality. It’s not only your existence in danger if someone gains your life via your true name. Free will is also lost. Most people who experimented with true names ended up becoming worse than slaves. That’s why it fell out of fashion.”
“Necromancers were particularly good at it because they routinely manipulate life.” Tessa-Marie paused to ensure that statement sunk in. “Any necromancer who doesn’t want to reveal his name is instantly suspected of having a true name.”
“You can suspect my true name of being my only weakness if it makes you happy but it’s not true,” Darkstar said. “I simply don’t want anyone to know my name because it’s awful.”
“Prove it. Tell me what it is.”
“No. Wouldn’t you rather another undead abomination? If you’re set on a true name I could probably make one which can only be vanquished if you know it’s true name.” Darkstar gaze became vague as he focused on some inward vision. “Certainly I’d have to give it a name,” he mused, more to himself than Tessa-Marie. “I imagine the hardest part would be persuading life to flow into an abstract concept with no physical link to the world... ”
“NO! No, no, no! I would much rather you gave me your true name! Surely you don’t want to watch me destroying another one of your creations...”
“Why would I not want to? I love watching you destroy my monsters.”
This statement made Tessa-Marie stare suspiciously at the necromancer for a long moment, but his utter sincerity was only too apparent. “Do you realise most necromancers get angry when their nemesis keep defeating their creations? When Lament was my nemesis the worst part of defeating his undead abominations was listening to him whine after.”
“Lament was a fool. It’s a good thing you’re my nemesis now. You deserve somebody who appreciates your talent...” Darkstar continued in this vein for a while. Tessa-Marie noticed he was attempting to distract her by flattery, but chose not to correct the impression she was no longer curious about his name. Clearly she would need to go to other sources to discover the name Darkstar had been born with, as Darkstar himself could not be persuaded to give it up.
Two days later Tessa-Marie invaded Darkstar’s fortress, if knocking on the main gates and asking to be let in could be called invading. Certainly it was the word she used when writing to her parents and hero friends. As Tessa-Marie knew she could invade if she wanted to it was basically true anyway. But as Darkstar had informed his minions that failure to comply with her requests for entry would result in instantaneous physical and spiritual annihilation, there was no point in needlessly expending her energy.
“Good morning...um...Marla,” Tessa-Marie said. Before becoming Darkstar’s nemesis she’d managed to get by with obliterating every single undead which crossed her path, but after she’d had to learn how to tell undead apart. Darkstar did not seem to regard his undead minions as easily replaceable. Dispatching one might provoke a reaction Tessa-Marie wouldn’t be able to contain. Certainly he’d rescind the order to comply with her requests for entry, and Tessa-Marie didn’t want that to happen yet.
Marla made beckoning gestures at her and started to lead Tessa-Marie through the gardens inside the fortress. “Good morning, dear. Do you want to see the master? Of course you do, that’s what you always want. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. I don’t think he’s ever been unhappy to see you, come to think of it. Keep coming, he’s inside, no, not the front door, this side door here. We don’t use it very often so I imagine you’ve never noticed it before...down these steps...this door on the left... a few more steps...”
The only reason Marla managed to lock the shackle around Tessa-Marie’s wrist was because she assumed the undead was about to pat her hand while calling her dear, which was something this particular undead did frequently. Tessa-Marie got over her surprise quick enough to snap Marla’s finger bones off and kick the skeleton across the room when she tried to fasten the second manacle around the other wrist.
“What do you think you’re doing, Marla? You received the title of Darkstar’s most favoured minion through sentiment, not power. I, on the other hand, have enough power both to get this shackle off and pound you into bone paste...”
“I’ve seen you demolishing Darkstar’s monsters enough times to know that, dear,” Marla said picking herself up off the ground. “But there is nothing you could do to me that is worse than what Darkstar would do if hears I did nothing to keep you here until he came home. His wrath would be terrible if you left before seeing him.”
“Darkstar isn’t home?”
“No, dear. He’s gone hunting. He ran out of monster parts again. Ever since you became his nemesis that happens more frequently. I hope Darkstar finds time to visit a graveyard too. I could use a new hand...”
“When will he be back?”
“Soon, I imagine. He left several hours ago.”
“Then I’ll wait until he comes home.” Tessa-Marie shook her hand, causing the chain between the shackle and the wall to rattle. “Now are you going to unlock this thing, or do I have to blast it off?”
“I’d prefer you blasted it off, dear. If you leave before the master returns it will prove I tried.”
The mana bomb ended up taking out a good chunk of the walls, ceiling and floor as well as the chains and manacle, not entirely by accident. Tessa-Marie had been hoping the extensive damage would incite Marla into a homicidal rage, allowing her to tell Darkstar with perfect honesty she’d had no choice but to return his homicidally-enraged, most-favoured minion to a state of non-being. Disappointingly, all Marla did was make admiring comments while Tessa-Marie picked her way over the rubble to the door. “Such widespread devastation and not a scratch on you! You’re even better than the master at protection spells. A pity you chose not to embark on magic as a career, you would have been impressive... This piece of paper fell out of your pocket, dear...Oh. You want to see the master and you have a list of boys names in your pocket? I hadn’t realised the two of you were that far along...”
“Ha!” Tessa-Marie cried excitedly (who had only started listening to Marla from ‘you are that far along’). “I knew one of those had to be his true name! And if you’re worried about me being that far along in finding it then Darkstar’s true name must be his one weakness!”
“Thank goodness. I didn’t think you two were that far along. True names? Darkstar mentioned you were fixated on that idea....” Marla’s voice trailed off as she scanned the list. “I’m afraid you're setting yourself up for disappointment on both counts, dear. The master did not put his life in his true name and even if he had, his true name isn’t on this list.”
“I won’t hold your lies against you. Minions have to lie to heroes about the source of their master’s weakness.” Giving a kindly smile, Tessa-Marie went on, “I know I’m right, so don’t try to convince me otherwise. Darkstar himself told me he killed the first Darkstar after being sent to this fortress as a child sacrifice twelve years ago. Seabrook Village has always been too close and defenseless against the threat of the Darkstar who holds the fortress. I’ve spent the last two days in Seakbrook researching the names of all the boys who were sent to the fortress twelve years ago. Darkstar has got to be one of them.”
“Oh dear, if only you’d talked to me first! I could have saved you all that pointless effort,” sighed Marla. “Darkstar isn’t from Seabrook Village.”
“What do you mean he’s not from around here? Where is he from?”
“I don’t know. It’s not a part of his life the master likes to talk about. All I know is he’s from the kind of place which hates people who show any aptitude for necromancy, which hardly narrows it down. I’m not sure if he was exiled or chose to leave, but either way when he walked into Seabrook Village it was clear no one would mourn him. That’s why they sent him to the old Darkstar.”
Mulling these pieces of gossip over, Tessa-Marie walked from the makeshift dungeon into one of the more comfortable sitting rooms, trailed by Marla. Reluctantly, she believed the undead. The bond between Darkstar and Marla was more intense than any master and minion she’d come across, which didn’t rule out the possibility Marla was lying about his true name being the source of his power. But when it came to details about Darkstar which couldn’t be used against him, Marla had so far been incurably honest.
“It looks like I’m going to need a new line of inquiry if I’m going to discover Darkstar’s true name.” Tessa-Marie sat in the nearest armchair and stared at Marla. When the skeleton remained silent she added: “If you knew it wasn’t on that list, then you must know what it is.”
“I do. But I’m not going to tell you.”
“Not even...”
“No.” Marla’s tone remained even, but the skeleton’s posture changed to become slightly more menacing. “No matter what you are about to say, dear, the answer is still no. What the master would do to me for telling is worse than what you would do to me for not telling. Darkstar is a good master to us all. He keeps us all safe, he doesn’t send us out to be slaughtered, and he lets us talk. There is nothing else in this world I want. And if you’re going to throw a tantrum you’d better do it quickly because I can sense the master approaching. He’ll be here in six minutes and thirty eight seconds.”
“Will he?” Tessa-Marie made a mental note to tell her parents and hero friends that undead were capable of sensing their necromancers over short distances as she got up to peer out the window. From behind the trees it was possible to see a hint of the black stone walls and the shine of the metallic gates, but the carefully arranged flower beds dotting the expanse of grass caught the eye more readily. One of the undead in residence had a passion for gardening, which Darkstar encouraged for reasons Tessa-Marie was still trying to discern. All her discreet investigations had uncovered nothing more sinister than photosynthesis. While she was staring at an impressive, but small, display of orchids the undead came into view. Tessa-Marie watched it removing the miniscule weeds, taking care not to disturb the flowers.
“Hmm. Darkstar will be here in six minutes? I’ll go meet him at the gate.” Without waiting for a response Tessa-Marie strode out the door. To her dismay, Marla followed. “You don’t have to come with me, Marla. Really.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble dear.”
“Yes it is! I can find the way myself. I won’t leave before seeing Darkstar, honest!”
“I need to see the master. He left me in charge during his absence. I need to give my report.”
Darkstar grinned when he saw Tessa-Marie. He had a pleasant smile, certainly a lot more pleasant than those damp, poorly wrapped packages the undead trailing him were carrying. Tessa-Marie made sure she locked gazes with the necromancer to lessen the risk of taking a closer look at any of the bundles.
“Hello, Tessa-Marie. If I’d known you planned to invade today I’d have stayed home.”
“I chained her in the second containment room to ensure she was still here when you returned, master, but she blew up the room and escaped,” Marla said. “The room can be salvaged with extensive repairs, but I fear the damage to the manacles is irreparable.”
“Thank you, Marla. It is that sort of devotion to my interests which made you my most-favoured minion. You may depart. The rest of you can depart as well. Caster can oversee the sorting and preservation of my materials.” Darkstar turned to Tessa-Marie, "Did you have a particular reason for invading my fortress?”
“I came to ask if you're free tonight. There’s a show on about the defeat of a Death Knight.”
“Sure! I’d love to see it with you. Studying the mistakes of others is always valuable.” Darkstar grabbed Tessa-Marie’s hand and started pulling her towards Seabrook Village.
“Oh, it doesn’t start for several hours yet,” said Tessa-Marie, resisting Darkstar’s gentle tugging. “I wasn’t planning we should go down straight away. Wouldn’t you like to stay here until then? Surely there are things you need to do. Without me.”
“Yes, but I don’t want to do any of them. Come on, we’ll find something interesting to do until the show starts. How about ice cream and a walk through the park?”
Tessa-Marie stopped resisting. Darkstar wasn’t stupid. Too much effort to get time alone in his garden might make him suspicious. Some plans you needed to bide your time. Maybe it was better this way. It would give her the chance to find some orchids first...
Tracking down the undead she was after proved no trouble as he never left the garden. Tessa-Marie made sure the box of orchids was held prominently in front of her and approached him.
“Hi there. Your name’s Peregrine, right? Nice day for gardening, isn’t it?”
The undead took a look at the contents of the box. “Tracey Darling. Hand them over.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s common knowledge you’ve been hunting the master’s true name. I want my bribe!”
Tessa-Marie held the box out of reach. “It isn’t a bribe! Heroes don’t bribe people, they give tokens of appreciation in return for information. You’ll get these tokens after you give me Darkstar’s real true name! Tracey is a girl’s name.”
“It’s occasionally given as a boys name. The master hates his name because when he was little everyone was always mistaking him for a girl and calling him a little Darling. Now gimme!” Peregrine snatched the box out of her hands. “The master will not die or become your slave because you know his true name. But you didn’t specify he had to so you can’t take them back.”
“Can’t take what back? Why did you come to see Peregrine before seeing me?” Darkstar said, causing Tessa-Marie, who hadn’t heard him approach, to jump. Darkstar’s forehead wrinkled. “What are you acting guilty about? You never cared about invading before. Where did you get those orchids, Perry? Did Tessa-Marie give them to you? You don’t seem to have bought anything for me. Why? I refuse to believe you like Peregrine more.”
“I like you much better than Peregrine, Tracey Darling.”
Darkstar made a hissing noise between a gasp of horror and scream of rage. “Peregrine, how could you? After all I’ve done for you! Don’t you know the meaning of loyalty?”
“Puh-lease, Master. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t have betrayed me if she offered you the right price. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have orchids to plant.”
Darkstar tried to follow, but Tessa-Marie stepped in his path. “So, now I have your true name does this mean you’re my slave in everything now? I want you to give up necromancy and stop wearing black. Then I want you to get a haircut and take me...”
By way of replying Darkstar engulfed the spot Tessa-Marie was standing on in a pillar of flame. Tessa-Marie managed to dodge it as well as the six other fireballs Darkstar hurled, although her hair and shoes were singed.
“You’re going to have to do much better than that if you want to come close to hurting me, my little Darling,” she cried, unsheathing her sword.
Darkstar’s eyes blazed. “I was planning to be merciful until you called me that!” The air around him started to swirl ominously and crackle with power.
Marla hurried towards the orchid flowerbed. “What’s all that smoke and screaming? Is the master in trouble?”
Peregrine didn’t look up from the hole he was digging. “The master and the hero are having a confrontation. He’s not pleased she discovered his true name. She’s not pleased he hasn’t become her slave.” Marla turned to go back inside. This did make Peregrine look up. “The master’s in peril and you’re not rushing to protect him? That’s a first.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s not in any serious danger.”
It took three hours and forty nine minutes for the hero and necromancer to reach the stage were they were no longer capable of battle, at which point several undead tactfully approached offering bandages, burn salves and refreshments. Darkstar recovered enough for conversation first. “Why were you convinced my true name was my weakness when everyone was telling you it wasn’t? Do you want me dead that badly?”
Tessa-Marie shook her head, to the great annoyance of the undead trying to patch the slice on her neck. “No. I just couldn’t stop the wishful thinking. It was your free will I wanted, not your life. I couldn’t stop thinking about you having to obey my every desire.”
“Really? I feel the same way about you! I even researched compulsion spells.”
“Oh, Darkstar! I didn’t realise I meant that much to you! And they won’t work on me, so don’t even try.”
“I won’t. I abandoned the idea. You have too much personality for any compulsion spell I cast to be effective, even if I killed you first.”
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