Birds were flying low over the calm sea, grazing the surface with their white wings. They were flying in packs of five, in perfect formation, and had a clear hierarchy in each group. The largest male would fly ahead of the pack, each consisting of at least one other male and the rest being females.

One bird, however, was flying alone, and it was clear why.

Gray feathers clung loosely to its old body and wings, which spanned twice as long as the other males. Massive talons were attached to each of its battle-scarred feet and sharp intelligent eyes sat on each side of its majestic head. But its most noticeable feature was its long black beak, which was cracked at the tip. A dense, red mist was leaking out from the cracked beak, and forming a trail behind it.

There could be no doubt as to the status of the bird; it was the alpha, and none dared contest its might, let alone approach it.

The bird was flying slightly higher than the rest of the procession, watching over them. That is why it didnt notice the arrow, that came flying from the shore, before it penetrated its wing.

No cry came from the majestic creature as its three-pound body fell to the shore. It fell with as much grace as it flew; watching its flock fly away and disappear with an easy heart.

We got one, sir, came a voice.

It belonged to the shooter, a human of average height. Not very strong-looking, nor particularly handsome. The bird couldnt help but feel ashamed to have fallen at the hands of someone so average. It had seen how the humans lived when it had sat in the trees near their villagesit had seen how their females flocked around those who were taller, stronger, had high cheekbones, blonde hair, or possessed great strength.

This is a snow raven, he said with a voice full of glee.

The shooter turned his head to look at someone the raven couldnt see.

I see. What a beautiful creature indeed, the person responded, and then the bird knew it had to get a look.

It flapped its wings with what little strength it had until it laid on its side, facing the two people. It needed to know for whose sake it had needed to die.

As soon as it saw the tall, black-robed man it knew it was not going to be sacrificed for some weakling. The dark figure emitted an aura of power that, to it, was even more terrifying than any beast it had ever known in the Forests of the Northern Realms.

Now, prepared to embrace the dark which seemed to infest the red mist from its beak, the raven closed its eyes and felt itself sink into a deeper darkness; a more mysterious blackness that numbed its senses, stole away its consciousness, and left its big, worn-out body at the feet of its killers.

It was one with the dark.

Then a voice came through to the bird, and separated it from the void at the heart of which its soul had nestled itself.

Rise, Dominus.

The raven opened its eyes slightly, letting its eyes fill with light yet again. It had to wonder, Why is the pain gone? Not just the pain from being shot, but the pain from all its woundsthose from its many scars and the crack in its beak.

Did it work? the shooter asked.

Give it time, the tall man replied as he picked the bird up and stared into its eyes. I gave it a name from the Old Language during the resurrection. Let us observe the effects.

I have to say, sir, your magic is something else. I mean, Ive seen shamans do some pretty incredible things, but raising an army like yours is

Im not responsible for the army. My masterthe emissary is.

Yeah, I saw him back in our village, but I mean he didnt seem very impressive to me. Sure, he has the favor of a Dark One, but its one of the weird ones.

The tall man let out a laugh that, even to the numbed bird, was spine-chilling. A shiver went through its entire body, and drew the two mens attention to it.

It woke up!

Yes but if it isnt sentient I will return it to death.

Those words woke the raven right up. It wasnt well-versed in the tongues of men, but it understood enough to know that if it didnt wake up now, it wouldnt be able to ever again.. Yes, the bird had accepted death, but only because of the inevitability at the time. It didnt believe in any gods, and as such, held no desire to let death take it if it could be avoided.

A flap of the wings and a tired croak was enough for it to show the dark man that it was indeed alive.

Oh. It seems it understood me just now, he monotonously said. It appears to cling to life as well. Not very undead-like behavior. One last test.

He filled his lungs with air, somehow making the air several degrees colder, before addressing the bird directly, Dominus, look at me.

The bird understood and turned its head to look at the tall mans face, the part that wasnt hidden by the hood of his robes.

My name is Zennereth. This man and I saw your incredible vessel fly through the air and decided to conduct an experiment with your help.

Strangely, Dominus suddenly understood every word the man spoke. Dominushe liked that name.

The bird couldnt utter any human words, so it did the only thing it could do. It nodded its head, as it had seen the humans do.

Nod again, if you understand me, Zennereth commanded.

As instructed, Dominus nodded and in that exact same moment a strange laugh escaped the tall man; he didnt seem like the laughing kind.

Ah, in all my years Ive never seen something quite as incredible.

Yeah, the living dead are amazing.

But dont you see? the hooded man held the gray bird toward his assistant, the shooter, This bird is so much more. All my life, the undead have been a scourge to the living. I myself have ordered, and partaken in mass-exterminations of the living dead. But that all changes now. Today, I wrote history.

The shooter looked at Zennereth, then at the bird, and then at Zennereth again.

I dont get it, was all he said.

Strangely, the tall man didnt appear bothered by his assistants obvious confusion; even Dominus understood that much. Frankly, the robed gentleman appeared thrilled at the opportunity to enlighten his comrade.

Tell me, Hans, how do you perceive the undead? he asked.

Uhhe scratched his sparsely bearded chinI seeem as monsters.

Yes, monstersanimals incapable of thought. Correct?

Yeah, sure. Everyone knows the dead dont think. They just kind ofI dont knowdo whatever. Act on impulse.

Zennereth nodded, and Dominus followed suit. The bird didnt really know why but following the hooded mans lead seemed as natural as breathing. It felt attached to the man, for some reason.

Yes. Your average undead is a mindless, callous machine driven by pain and regret, the man said putting the bird back on the ground. But something about that analogy has bothered me for a few months now, he said and pulled down his hood, revealing a bare cranium.

Dominus shuddered at the sight of the mans form. He now knew why hed felt attached to the frightful creaturethey were the same.

Why can I think? Why can I feel? Are liches just fundamentally different, or is it because of something else? I sat down to think, during our trip to The North, and realized something. It had to be because of the process of resurrection.

You gave the bird a name fromuh, what did you call itthe Old Language, the shooter eagerly followed up. Howd you come up with that?

My name comes from three words of the Old Language. Zain, ne, and rex. When combined correctly, it roughly translates toLest the king decline. Patriots, my family.

He laughed for a bit.

At least I can appreciate the irony.

So, waitdoes the Old Language make the dead think? Is that what youre saying? Hans asked.

The lich shrugged, We would have to test that.

Dominus looked at the shooter, whose face was now reflecting less confusion and more excitement. The snow raven didnt think the human completely understood, but it most certainly appeared to want to learn.

My father always told me you southerners science was a waste of time. But this This is incredible!

Yes, well, this isnt exactly southern science. Had this been Kanburrough, The Empire, or the Allied States, I wouldve been beheaded for these experimentsperhaps even tortured.

I dont get it. Why do you let yourselves be restrained by laws? Ive heard you execute people for petty things like theft. Your criminals dont even get trial by combat."

Zennereth sighed.

Theres a difference in culture, I suppose, he quietly said, looking at the rapidly rising sun. I would be delighted to explain, but we need to head back to the village. The others should be waking up about now.

The lich snapped his fingers at Dominus, who flapped his wings and landed on the outstretched, bony arm before making his way to the lichs shoulder.

Any other person would probably have looked ridiculous with such a large bird sitting on their shoulder, but as the lich was almost eight feet tall it was only fitting for his new companion to be equally massive.

Zennereth then turned his head to stare Dominus right in the eye, each evaluating the other. The bird made a satisfied sound, and exuded a particularly powerful burst of crimson mist from its beak.

Um, do we head back or do you wanna stay, sir? Hans asked, nodding towards the village.

Pardon me. Lead the way, the lich replied.

They had left early in the morning, following the shoreline to where Hans usually went to fishthe same place snow ravens went to get their breakfast every morning.

The plan had been to find ways to efficiently expand Ashs army by testing out a few of Zennereths theories. Needless to say, the experimentation had been a success. The kind of which the limits had yet to be tested.

Finally I can do what I do best, the lich whispered. His head was enveloped in Dominuss mist, and his voice was accompanied by the haunting sound of the birds failed attempt at trying to squeeze out a song through its dead lungs.

This time, I will finish it.