Chapter 1- Afterlife

Rage filled the undead elf's eyes. How dare he call her a fool. Faithia quickly got her anger under control and said with amusement. "Well, we'll see who is the fool when you are at the mercy of this necromancer antics. Go and fight against the plague. Just make sure you take yourself out last. I am not going to mindlessly throw myself into the fray of battle even if it is to destroy everything the plague has brought. Not yet. My memories are missing. I want them back. Unless your king can gain my trust and offer something that can benefit me, I stay where I stand."

Emerith stares, "I, too, will stay where I stand. I have nothing left and nothing to lose. So unless your king proves to me that he is not a fool, I shall agree with the elf."

The necromancer, pale of skin and icy blue of eyes, rested his eyes upon the elf. "And what if you were to have a place in this world, as being among its silent protectors? Would you then fight alongside us?" He paused, and then spoke again. "Do understand that I have brought you back with free will. You may go as you please, and shall not be thought a coward."
"You dislike being called a fool, yet you will stand there and insult MY honor!" The zealous paladin, Doren, glared with intensity at the elf. "Foolish, frail being, just as the rest of your kind. Blasphemous-"
"Now, now. They have sworn no loyalty. Allow them to leave, paladin." The necromancer addressed the two again. "May you find what you seek, and may fortune always smile on you."
The little girl in the white dress was curled in a corner, still softly whimpering. Her two eyes, which were as pale as the light of the waning moon, turned in the general direction of the departing women, her expression pleading, but her words silent.