The Thirteenth by Parvathi Ramkumar

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He saw a gray shadow. The prince would grow great with its help, it declared, as long as he renounced the ancestor spirits everybody else worshipped.

The prince awoke with newfound resolution, and did as the apparition bid. Little did he know that he had thrown himself under the power of Vae, Imin's evil ancestor spirit none dared worship. In his thirteenth year, Vae presented to him a scepter of power.

One by one, his siblings were found dead, murdered brutally. It appeared they were struck by lightning and fire. Soon the prince was the only one left, and when his father died at fifty two, he was crowned king. He kept the scepter as a token, using it against all who turned against him. When the apparition finally revealed its identity to him many years later, the king was too consumed with the power of the scepter to turn against Vae. Besides, he enjoyed the strength it lent him.

‘I tell you this, young king,' Vae told him in his dreams once, ‘The scepter I gifted you was my own, crafted by necromantic spells. All I ask of you is to discourage your sorcerers from pursuing necromancy. I cannot guarantee the safety of your scepter if you do not heed my words.'

The clans of Imin were brought under a web of control too taut to break. They feared the power of Vae and of the king, of the scepter and the newly appointed priests of Vae. They struggled for a meal and they couldn't complain. They could only watch as their houses were looted of weapons and gold, and they were left penniless and poor. However two of the eight clans managed to flee into hiding.

And the six clans under the king's control were forced to celebrate the birth of his son, and his grandson, and in due course to mourn the mysterious disappearance of his great grandson.

‘Speak,' Arivi said, holding the scepter close to his chest.

‘If it does please your majesty,' said one of the sorcerers, ‘we may be permitted to share with your exalted person some information.'

‘I have already permitted you to speak.'

‘With the powers of sorcery, and with the great Vae's blessings, sire, we know there is a thirteenth sorcerer, who, we fear, has been brought up by the two free clans. We tracked him down, sire. He is a necromancer of the highest order.'

Arivi said nothing. He sighed.

****

Narvi had never been in the ruined temple before. There were no windows, and it was dark. Lights flickered from flaming torches on the broken walls, but the ceiling was still swathed in shadows. Narvi could only vaguely see the uneven protrusions on the ceiling.

He was alone, and he could almost hear his heart beat in the silent stillness of the temple. He approached the statue of the presiding deity. The free clans took care of the ancient statue, and it was, unlike the temple it rested in, well preserved. An offering of cold cucumber and lime rested at its feet, surrounded by a string of red flowers.

Narvi knelt by the six foot tall stone statue. It exuded an air of serenity and compassion, of all the good that was left in Imin.