Ten years had passed and the shaman had come to the conclusion that her adopted granddaughter was for lack of a better term “Gifted”. A prodigy when it came to learn shamanism. A bright child that loved to play around and experiment, with a character that did not befit her appearance. She was so much of blessing that even The Fog had taken a liken to her.
For these and several other reasons, the shaman had decided that her granddaughter would inherit her role as the next shaman. Since she specialised in [Totem Magic], she believed that would be watch she should teach her.
It did not take long for the child to become proficient with that brand of magic and move out to discover others.
Truly a bright granddaughter anyone would wish to have. She was content with all matters, but little did she know there was a budding problem. That was her son’s wife had eventually laid an egg and from it was born a powerful beautiful granddaughter. Though she was not stronger than her predecessor, she was indeed powerful.
Her son came in to argue that she train her “True” granddaughter instead. Angry, the shaman banned her son from ever visiting her again. She instead took in his daughter for lessons and made it well known that she would only pass on her job to whomever proved to be superior and that neither would be allowed to see their father till after.
Due to this, both were raised as “proper” sisters. They played together, learned together, worked together, but under no circumstances did those two ever fight. The shaman would never allow for such an instance and both knew this.
However, to the Shaman’s dismay, this only furthered the distance between the girls eventually. The oldest of the two had the most magical potential and this made the other feel insignificant in almost every other way. Since both couldn’t argue about the issue, the latter would simply run away on a daily.
Instead of practicing magic she would be inspecting whatever looked curious to her. In fact, it didn’t take long for her to encounter some other adolescent copperheads, of whom she had not seen for the past two years. Quickly, she became friends with them and would sneak out to go play with them all the time.
Till one day, they requested to see where she lived since she had seen their homes. Reluctant at first, she was pressured till she finally agreed and snuck them into her home when her grandmother was not around. They played around for a bit, then they saw her sister practicing magic.
They were all appalled by her looks and went out to call her names. At first, she tried to ignore them, but the children got quite physical. They started to attack her, even though she possessed a bigger frame. She did not respond with violence because of what her grandmother taught her, so she simply took the beatings quietly and looked at her sister for help. Her sister only looked away from what was happening
The shaman returned later that day only to see her granddaughter with quite some minor injuries on her body. She asked the two what had happened, but none of them spoke. She asked if they fought and both denied ever fighting. Unbeknownst to them, the mist that shrouded the South was a sentient entity that always spoke to the Shaman and told her what happened. Angrily, she returned the youngest child to her father for lying to her.
The shaman’s son didn’t want to believe that and started to spout some nonsense about how the shaman only treated his daughter badly because of how much she hated him. She ignored his claims and tried to sack him from her cave, but in a rage, the son ended up choking his mother to death.
After realizing what he had done, he started to cry out tears for his mother. The shaman’s granddaughter witnessed the entire incident and quickly rushed to her grandmother’s side to see if she was still ok.
The son started to scream at her for being the cause of his mother’s death. Being a child and still not understanding what exactly what was happening, she received the blunt accusations from the person she remembered said would be her father from when she was an egg. This caused an uncontrollable heartbreak that made her run away from the cave for some weeks.
The one thing that really stuck with her was when her father called her the Second Coming of Zatana.
Which was what had brought her to her current predicament. A few days ago, she found a weakened dragon that was hiding out in a cave in the swamp. He called himself Ongril. He was the only thing in the harsh cold swamp that treated her with any sort of warmth after her grandmother.
So, it was not shocking that she had grown close to the wounded dragon. She was currently recounting her reasons for being lost in the swamp to him.
‘That copperhead is a real bastard, tch. Want me to burn him to death?’
Ongril asked her half-jokingly.
“I’ll take responsibility for what I did.”
She said with tears in her eyes, still failing to understand what exactly had happened.
“I killed grandmother… I-I… am not any better than Zatana. Maybe I really do deserve that name.”
It hadn’t been long since he had met this creature. However, being the only creature he was able to communicate with for the past three decades, he easily came grew attached to her. She was a bright child who hadn’t even shown that she was in pain the past few days he had been with her. At this point, he was willing to do almost anything just to see her genuinely happy. Seeing her in such a sorry state had really pissed him off. If he could see that useless copperhead, he would make sure his death was a slow and painful one.
‘Who is this Zatana you speak of?’
“My grandmother said she was a wicked shaman that terrorized her people and had killed several other races in a quest for power.”
Ongril started to think about what he had just heard. A wicked shaman that terrorized her own people? The only ones he could think about were the mages from some centuries back during the Great Witch Hunt period.
‘I won’t accept it.’
“W-What?”
The child took a step back, surprised when Ongril started to stand up. Being so large he made her – who was always bigger than normal – feel like an insignificant ant.
“I, Ongril of the Red Tower, Brother of Fell, hereby adopt you as my daughter.”
He proudly announced, wanting to make sure not even the fog would hide his presence from all others. His voice boomed mightily and echoed for all others to here.
“From this day forth, I name you Zana. Zana of the Swamp, my adopted daughter. Let it be known to any who wishes to bring harm upon her. Touch her, and you cross me.”
As soon as he named her a yellow light engulfed her. She could feel her body being riddled with power. Her mana soared through the roof. However, once the light calmed down and she managed to reel in her power, she noticed that the dragon was no longer speaking.
“Ongril?”
She tapped his snout, but the dragon didn’t respond.
“O-Ongril?! Ongril! Ongr-il…”
She shouted her beast. Through tears and phlegm, she shouted so the whole world would hear, but her cries were shrouded by the unnatural fog that wished to shield her from the dangers of the world.
It was on this day, that Ongril the Dragon of the Red Tower died. A blessing to most, a curse to few, and nothing but pain to Zana. After a week of crying non-stop, Zana finally succumbed to hunger. She went out to feed, but all she found was Goliath the Sleeping Emperor.
It was on this day, that the Tyrant of the South, the Swamp Queen Zana took her first steps to overcoming her trauma and becoming the best version of herself that everyone wanted.
***
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
The necromancer exclaimed with arms wide open.
“Zana of the Swamp.”
A foggy apparition of Zana before her stood about three feet above her. The apparition was scowling and even though it couldn’t possibly produce the same amount as she was doing in her real form, the apparition retained a certain level of presence one would expect her to possess.
“Is this your way of signing yourself over to me?”
She asked, yet the apparition only stared at her.
“Hmm? You still have regrets? Come on, if you sign up, nobody has to die, except everyone.”
She mocked; her cracked face made for a horrifying smile. In her hands, the orb glowed a faint blue and hummed with power. From moments souls could be seen bashing up against its innards, but to no avail.
“Do you see? The souls are so cheerful they cannot stop themselves from moving about so mu-“
KINK!
Before she could finish talking, the sounds of a weapon being deflected entered her ears. Looking behind her, one of her highest ranked undead held a halberd made of fog in his hands. The necromancer upon seeing this simply couldn’t contain her excitement.
“Fog that is just as deadly as iron? That is exactly why I want you first, Zana!”
The foggy apparition struggled against the grip of the undead, before simply leaving the weapon and fading back out into the atmosphere.
“I take this as your declaration of war, then? Haa~ I never planned on making it a silent affair in the first place. Let the slaughter begin.”
<A/N: This backstory was cut really short, with some parts being rushed, especially the ending.. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Zana is really pissed off now. What will an angry Tyrant do in the face of a necromancer with thousands of undead?>
