The Seventh Bell

I am the First Bell. I am the Fifth Bell. I awaken to my name. I am the Second Bell. I am the least of my kind. I can give speech... I may give thought... I may restore a body... I am the Third Bell. I awaken... I am ready. I am ready. I am ready. His mind clamored with their ringing utterances as he stared at the Seventh Bell, then at Kyrinne. And suddenly, an idea brushed itself across his mind. I am ready. I am ready.

He could bring her back! With his Bells, and his knowledge of necromancy, he could give her everything a living person could have: a mind, a body, emotions, a voice, free will. He could snatch her spirit from the river and bring her back to Life. Antarn sat down hard to struggle with the weight of his thoughts, never taking his eyes off the mangled form of his love. The voices of the Bells were still crying inside his head. I am ready. I am ready. We are ready.

He must have sat among the carnage for hours, ogling at Kyrinne. Night had began to fall once again when the boy finally moved. He stood up stiffly and reached for the Seventh Bell, holding it gingerly. Then the tall Aramanthian youth began to walk. He walked away from the towers, away from the bodies, away from Kyrinne. He walked with the voices of the Bells calling him to use them, to bring her back, to give her Life. He walked to the mermaid’s lagoon with its unfathomed, still waters.

"Why?" he asked one last time, his eyes boring into the Bell. There was no answer. The youth drew his arm back and flung the Seventh Bell far into the middle of the lagoon, where it bubbled briefly and sank. As soon as it disappeared beneath the surface, his mind went silent. His Six Bells had ceased their clamoring and become hushed. "Not one of you," he spoke to them, "could bring back her heart." And with that, he turned back toward the stony towers, mumbling softly.

"Necromancy is dead. It died with Myk, and I will not summon it back from Death." He, Antarn, would see to it that the Dark Arts buried themselves. He would undo the damage that his master had done. He would free Aramanthia from the Dead.

Deep beneath the surface of the lagoon, a shining silver Bell was still sinking, radiating amusement as it fell.