TDE - NECROMANCER - Chapter 1

Alright, I didn't finish the Will of the Force chapter I was supossed to post today, instead, have a sample of my second original novel.

I wrote this one a few months ago and I don't think I posted it here (At least I couldn't find it.)

I'm going to start posting this after I finish a dozen more chapters, so about 2 months?

Anyways, this is a different story in the same setting as the earlier TDE posts, but I decided to drop the levels and skills thing since, after writing quite a few chapters, I realized it doesn't really affects the story that much.

I'm also rewriting the earlier story to take out the levels before I starting posting that one too.

Will of the Force should be back tomorrow and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

_________________________________________________________

I’d like to say it was a dark and stormy night but, actually, the moon was almost full, its green light illuminated the night with surprisingly efficiency. The rain was also very, very light, only serving to make my job harder without even having the decency of giving the proper atmosphere to the situation.

So…yeah, it was quite a nice night to be out and about, if one had some cover, that is. Unfortunately, I was currently digging a grave, and the soggy earth wasn’t making my job any easier.

Ugh, I hated being the apprentice.

With a shake of my head, I pulled my dark cloak over my head and sighed. I had gotten it mostly for dramatic effect, but it was still quite useful at keeping the rain out of my face and, for once, I was thankful for spending twelve silvers on the thing.

Really, what were they thinking, sending me out to gather materials just because I was the newest member? By the emperor, Josh was a brute nearly twice my height and with arms like tree trunks. He’d have dug the graves in a quarter of the time.

But noooo… it had to be me. Every new recruit does it Aisha. It’s your job Aisha. We can’t be seen missing Aisha, people would notice.

Ugh, I knew that nobody really paid attention to me since I didn’t have a family, but did they have to throw it in my face every damn time? I couldn’t wait to learn how to animate my own skeletons. At least then I’d have some loyal minions that appreciated me.

Speaking of skeletons, I peeked over at my follower and considered ordering it to help me out. Shaking my head I sighed.

Unfortunately, the thing was too badly made… I could actually see the mana leaking from its bones even with it just standing there, doing nothing.

If I ordered it to dig, the minion was likely to run out of mana before I made it back to the hideout, then I’d really be in trouble. I could dig out a few shallow graves by myself, but pulling the cart all the way back to the farm was a little too much.

Stabbing the shovel in the soaked ground, I was satisfied when it dug a few centimeters into the softened earth, but it soon stopped, the blade not even halfway into the ground. With a grunt, I stepped on top of it and put all my meager weight on the tool. It didn’t move. Not one bit.

Annoyed, I stomped on the shovel a few times, then climbed on top of the blade with both feet and grunted. “Why. Won’t. You. Dig?” My foot slipped from the shovel step and I fell painfully on my ass, my expensive cloak getting covered in mud.

“Alright, that’s it! Four bodies should be more than enough for the old man. If he wants more he can damn well come dig them himself!” I screamed, but didn’t climb out of the grave.

Taking a calming breath, I grabbed the shovel again and stabbed at the ground one more time. I really didn’t want to ruin my chances with the cult. It was so hard to find it in the first place.

No way was I taking any risks before even learning how to animate a minion.

I could swallow my anger for a chance at an army of the dead. I could always ditch the stuffy bastards after they taught me how to make my own companions.

Why did they even want human bodies anyway? Monsters corpses were much easier to acquire, and probably more useful too. Monsters were stronger, faster and their bones were far more compatible with mana.

I bet that even Eliah could make some decent minions with a monster corpse, and the man made terrible minions. Always needing double the amount of mana and only making stupid skeletons or zombies that rotted twice as fast.

I just bet the skeleton they lent me was one of his. It was too badly made to be anyone else’s.

Stabbing the shovel on the ground once again, I heard the distinctive ‘thunk’ of metal hitting wood and shouted. “YES! Finally!” With renewed vigor, I exposed about half a meter of the coffin and threw the shovel aside.

Grabbing my other tools, I tightened the cloth around my nose and grimaced, I just hated this part.

Quickly, I cut a hole in the wooden casket just big enough to pull the decomposing corpse through. Turning my head away as the scent of rotten flesh hit me in the face and made me tear up, I pried the coffin open. At least I managed to not throw up… This time.

Grabbing the corpse with my gloves, it nearly slipped out of my grasp when my hand shook, but I finally pulled it out and threw it on top of the cart before covering it with a thick cloth.

There, five old corpses stolen. I’d feel bad about it, but the previous owners clearly weren’t using it, and their relatives would never know about it anyway.

Really, it was a victimless crime.

That was the beauty of being a necromancer instead of, I don’t know, a mind mage. Ugh, those guys were creepy.

With monster and bandit attacks, there were always plenty of corpses to be had. There was really no need to make them yourself. Also, older corpses were soaked with death energy.

Death energy made animating undead easier so, killing people for practice was actually discouraged. Not that you couldn’t use a new corpse, but newly dead bodies still had some vitality left and it clashed with necromantic energies, making the magic much harder. It was why animating skeletons was easier than zombies.

Or at least that’s what I read. I didn’t really know how to do it myself… yet.

Made me wonder how shitty a necromancer Eliah actually was. Even his skeletons barely lasted a night.

Of course, if you were strong enough to not only overcome said vitality, but also incorporate it into your minion, you could make far more powerful undead but, again, why would you want to spend all that effort on an obviously inferior human body? A strong monster would make for a far better minion, and was also less likely to get one of the Emperor’s inquisitors sent after you.

Ugh, I really needed a shower now.

Covering the grave was much faster than digging it up. I was done in less than ten minutes. Carefully, I planted the grass turfs back into place and looked at the grave.

The ground was left a little uneven, but nobody really came to this graveyard, and the cult bribed the groundskeeper not to notice such things. It would be better if they could bribe the man to actually dig the damn graves himself but, apparently, the old dude had limits.

I snorted. Yeah, everything was fine if he didn’t know anything about it. Nevermind it was pretty obvious what was going on, as long as he didn’t ‘see’ the problems actually happening, he wouldn’t need to report it.

By the Emperor, I hate hypocrites.

Gathering all the tools I had used, I threw them on top of the cart and nodded to the skeleton, it didn’t nod back.

“Humph, I bet I can make my undead respond to body language when I finally start making my own. Come on mister, start pulling the cart,” the undead just stayed in place, mana leaking from every bone, to the point I didn’t know if it would even make it all the way to the cave. “Let’s go… To the cave… Move!”

The skeleton didn’t react. I was considering kicking the shoddy thing in the shin, for all the good that would do me, when it finally grabbed the cart and started pulling it away.

Without the constant exercise, the cold finally started affecting me and I couldn’t wait to get back home. Still, I followed the cart back through the empty road for nearly an hour before we arrived at the farm.

Boney, the skeleton, made straight for the barn and didn’t seem about to stop or slow down, even if the barn door was closed. “Hey stop, I said stop!”

I tried to command it, but the thing was nearly completely out of mana. It just continued walking and rammed itself against the wooden doors. The impact was enough to dissolve the last remnants of magic holding it together with an almost audible ‘pop’.

With no mana keeping it up, the skeleton collapsed down to the ground in a heap, its bones becoming hopelessly tangled. I sighed, it had already been a crappy minion, but it was probably useless now.

Well, someone with enough knowledge could organize the bones back into place, but I certainly wasn’t it.

“Damn it, Aisha, you’re late!” Eliah yelled from inside the barn.

“I’m also five foot nothing and underfeed, what did you fucking expect?!” I yelled back. I was just about done with this day and I didn’t care what Eliah said. The guy was pathetic anyway.

The old man, nearly twenty nine, had a balding head and a crooked nose, probably from getting punched a little too often in bar fights. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as soon as he opened the door.

“What the hell did you do to my skeleton?” Ha! I knew it was one of his. “Fuck, you’re gonna own me a minion after this, girl.”

“No way, it’s not my fault your skeleton rammed itself to death on the door,” I shook my head and looked at Eliah.

He tried to stare me down, but I wasn’t having it, he was barely above me in the cult anyway and the masters wouldn’t like it if he kept delaying me.

It gave me no small amount of satisfaction when I noticed that, even dirty and soaking wet; my own coat was nicer than his. And it was too small for him to use too, so he couldn’t justify stealing from me. “Come on, I really need a bath.”

“Fine, come in,” he stepped back and I hurried inside the barn. “Master Gion is waiting for you down in the cave.”

I nodded and took off my coat. Getting rid of as much mud as I could manage I twisted the cloth making copious amounts of water to fall to the ground before putting it back on. I still had work to do.

Four skeletons came out of hiding in order to help open the doors and pull the cart inside. I briefly noted those ones were far better made than the one who followed me so, they either weren’t made by Eliah, or the bastard had been giving me crappy ones for a week now on purpose.

My bet was on the first option, but I wouldn’t put the second past him.

Walking further inside the barn, I opened the third pen and walked inside. The old cow on the second pen gave me an annoyed look, as if it was angry I had the gall to wake it up, then quickly went back to sleep, far too used to humans —and undead— moving about at night.

At the end of the pen, I moved some hay away and uncovered a hidden cellar door. With a grunt of effort I pulled it open, revealing the long stairway towards the cave.

I had absolutely no idea how the cult managed to find the cave, but it was a large, complex structure, with several different rooms and three floors.

Quite frankly, If I were to believe Master Gion —and I kinda didn’t— the cult had once been mighty, a powerful secret society of necromancers, eldritch mages and demonologists that influenced the empire from the shadows.

Then, one of the bright fucks got a little too arrogant and earned the attention of the Dread Emperor himself.

Suffice to say, they were lucky to be left with a secret cave and some random books lying around. The Emperor did not like having to act but, when he did, he usually made sure people would remember the lesson for generations to come.

Mother Edith in the orphanage used to say the Emperor was constantly fighting the Dark Tide. Pushing back the corruption and acting as a deterrent to both Demons and Gods that wanted the souls of the empire.

As a result, every time he had to act, his enemies took the chance to infiltrate the empire and cause untold damage. That was why he was always so angry when someone forced his hand.

I always thought he was just lazy. He just made sure everyone regretted it when he got involved so they wouldn’t bother him with unimportant shit. I’d totally do the same thing if I was in his place.

Really, what’s the point of having an empire and unlimited power if you can’t force your followers to solve your problems for you?

“Master Gion, I have finished gathering the materials,” I almost shouted, bowing at the waist toward the robbed old man and waiting for him to acknowledge my existence.

Master Gion was nearly seventy and the second strongest mage on the cult —Not that it was that great an accomplishment, the cult was kinda crap— but it did mean he was far more dangerous than his age implied. He also had a sadistic personality that went well with his chosen profession.

The old necromancer stood a little over six feet two, thin like the skeletons he animated, he was completely bald and blind in one eye.

Worse, he had started to lose his hearing too, so there was a more than even chance he hadn’t heard me. Still, I waited quietly and in the same position.

If he really hadn’t heard me, it wouldn’t be long before he glanced my way and noticed me there. Master Gion would probably shout a little and pretend to be angry, but I knew he’d be amused by the fact he’d left me bowing for so long.

On the other hand, if he had heard me and I spoke out of turn, he’d be annoyed, and the old man got creative when he was annoyed.

“By the five planes, what are you doing bothering me girl?” The necromancer finally said, narrowing his one good eye towards me, “Don’t you have someone else to follow? That simpleton Josh should be around here somewhere, or maybe Arthur…”

“No master. Today is the start of harvest and they’re all in town,” I told him, finally lifting my head to look him in the face. “Only Eliah stayed in the farm to ‘watch over you’, the others are all in the festival.”

“Right, right, there was that,” he nodded to himself then focused back on me. “You said you had the five corpses, how old were they?”

“I don’t really know Master. I dug the oldest graves marked on the cult’s map, but the bodies still had some flesh in them,” I said. The cult had been using that cemetery for decades now; there really weren’t a lot of old corpses still on the ground. “It wasn’t much though.”

“Hmmm, about a little over a year then, it should be enough,” Master Gion nodded to himself and scratched at his thin beard with his bony fingers. “Very well, for now you can go clean the ritual chamber. Darean’s magic always leaves it filled with rotting blood, damn blood mage. When the minions finish carrying the corpses down, use some of the corpse water to prepare them for tomorrow.”

I nodded but inside I was cursing the old man. I thought that perhaps he’d be willing to teach me a little today, but no… it’s cleaning duty again.

I made a short stop at the supply room and grabbed some cleaning equipment before making my way to the ritual chamber. Master Gion wasn’t kidding when he said Master Darean left the room dirty.

The dried up husk of a forest wolf hung from a chain, a swarm of flies feasting on its meat and some of the drained blood was still resting on the ritual pool where the other cultists hadn’t bothered to collect it.

I lowered the animal down and put it to the side, making a mental note to have a skeleton carry it towards the lower caves. It was where we kept corpses until they reached at least a month. Anytime sooner and the vitality would contaminate the death magic in the storage rooms.

Taking my coat off to avoid damaging it, I spent some time scrubbing the room clean, using an Ironfur Pig’s brush to get rid of the rotten blood completely.

I had been doing this job for a little over three months now and I had often done the same type of tasks in the orphanage —well, without the bodies, but it was essentially the same thing— so it didn’t take me too long to finish.

By then, the skeletons had finished carrying all five corpses down so I sent one away with the wolf and had another help me soak the bodies in the corpse water.

This one barely leaked any mana and obeyed any orders I gave it with incredible dexterity. It was probably one of Master Gion’s making then.

Corpse water was a recipe left behind from the time the cult was powerful. I had no idea what went into its making, but just touching the water for a second drained my mana and caused me pain like nothing else I had ever experienced.

I had tested it when I first used the substance and, a month later, the tip of my finger was still white and my nail hadn’t even started growing back.

Damn Eliah, he should have warned me it was so dangerous before ordering me to carry a cauldron of the thing up the stairs. What if I had stumbled? It was just another of the many reasons I despised the man.

Dunking all five bodies in the water, I watched as the waters started to boil. Somehow, the water didn’t get rid of the fleshy bits clinging to the bodies, but it killed anything that had been living in the remains and got rid of the terrible scent on them.

Emperor forbids the masters have to deal with smelly corpses after all. No, that was a job for me, the grunt.

When the waters stopped boiling, I ordered the skeleton to fish the bodies out and suspend them up in the hooks for a few minutes, just until it was completely safe to touch.

The corpse water slid off the bones as if it had a will of its own and, in less than half an hour, I could already continue my work.

I finally left all five bodies resting in neat rows, ready for use in the ritual chamber, then went back to Master Gion, doing the same old song and dance of announcing my presence and bowing. This time he hadn’t heard me.

“The hells damn you girl, don’t just stand there like a fool, announce yourself when you arrive!” The old necromancer yelled, his eye shining brightly with barely contained magic. Grabbing his cane, he lifted it high in the air as if to strike me, but changed his mind, the glow of his eye vanishing as he calmed down. “Well, are you done?”

“Yes, Master Gion. The ritual chamber is clean and the bodies are ready for use.”

“Good, five bodies should be enough for the ritual tomorrow. Don’t know why we left gathering them for the very last minute anyway,” probably because you forgot what day it was… is what I didn’t say. “What is it girl? I can see you have something to ask, out with it!”

“I apologize, Master!” I bowed again, but decided to take a chance. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself and asked. “I have been with the cult for nearly three months now, Master, but I haven’t even started learning necromancy, when can I start my studies?”

“How impatient, in my time I had to wait nearly a year before I started trying to raise skeletons. Had to learn the names of every bone too!” he grumbled, but I guess I hadn’t overstepped because he actually seemed… happy? “Well, you're a lucky girl. After you help with tomorrow’s ritual, I’ll order Arthur to start teaching you.”

“Thank you, Master!” I bowed even lower.

“Alright, now go away. I still have preparations to make,” he dismissed me with a wave of his hand.

I didn’t hesitate, almost skipping my way towards the surface. Outside, the sun was already starting to rise.

Glancing aside, I noticed Eliah was also already up, some bags under his eyes as he opened the barn and started feeding the farm animals. Thankfully, he only gave me a glare when I passed him and made my way towards the small house.

When I joined the cult, they had given me a little room in a corner of the building, just enough to fit a single bed and a chest of clothes, which was more than I had before so I was thankful.

Before entering the house, I took a quick bath with the cold water outside and washed my fancy cloak, then hung it to dry behind the house. Lying down on the bed, I tried to go to sleep, but working at night was still messing with me.

Even three months later, I still struggled to fall asleep. I guess that’s why the cultists were always so grumpy.

Eventually, I covered my head with a blanket and found Mr. Black, the stuffed cat was one of the only things I still carried with me from my mom. More than once I had considered throwing it away, but I couldn’t do it.

Instead, I hugged it close to my chest and asked in a whispering voice. “Should I leave?”

It wasn’t the first time I had asked myself that same question.

The thing was, I really wanted to learn necromancy, a lot. I had dreams of having an army of loyal minions, of being served by trusty revenants and growing fat from lack of exercise as they carried me around wherever I wished. I even had plans to animate a bear.

I’d skin the creature, animate its bones, order them stuffed back into the skin, fill it with soft fabrics for maximum fluffiness and finally use it as the most comfortable mount/bed in the world

But… yeah, playing with the undead wasn’t exactly my first choice. I don’t think it was anyone’s, really, not even Master Gion’s.

No, I remember that, when I was a kid, I had wanted to be a seamstress. I had even started learning it.

Ugh, that really did not work out.

The accident that claimed dad’s life had also opened a gash on my left arm, the healer had managed to close it, and it had healed with time, but I still lost a lot of dexterity in my fingers and, to this day, the arm was weaker than it should be.

It didn’t actually affect my daily life; it was just incredibly annoying… Then I ended up in the orphanage and any chances I had of a bright future were gone.

A weak arm with decreased dexterity wasn’t a huge handicap, but anyone going to the orphanage for a kid didn’t want damaged goods, no matter how little. I also hadn’t managed to attract the attention of any crafter.

I also couldn’t be an adventurer or join the Emperor’s army. While a weak arm didn’t affect most jobs, I couldn’t hold a shield with it, or a spear, or shoot a bow. And the arm kinda hurt when I used it too much.

After that, my first choice would be to become a Summoner. Summoning had the same advantages of necromancy with none of the problems.

As a Summoner, I could have my own minions without having to hide from anyone, they’d be perfectly loyal, never abandon me, never betray me, and follow my every command to the best of their abilities.

Unfortunately, while I had an advantage with my mana vision, my mana reserves were only slightly above normal and I hadn’t had the best education at the orphanage.

Mages of any kind were rare, they didn’t take just any apprentice and I hadn’t been able to find anyone interested.

So, necromancy it was. At least the cult knew better than to attract attention and didn’t do a lot of illegal things… well, besides practicing dark magic without a license, that is.

Also, grave robbing, but that was only sometimes.

…And summoning demons, but that law was always about using them as assassins and terror weapons, since Mistress Nisa only summoned incubuses once a month for personal use, it was mostly okay.

Now that I think about it, the cult did a LOT of illegal things, but whatever, it didn’t hurt no one.

Finally, I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer and fell asleep holding Mr. Black close to my face.

.

I dreamed of riding my stuffed bear into battle, my own eyes shining green under my hood, just like Master Giorn, Mr. Black resting on my shoulders and licking his bloody claws so he wouldn’t dirty my dark cloak.

______________________________________________

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1btqPcMW_gzX_Zvz3ckEtD4DaELeBwP8jM3tum6aQ0FM/edit?usp=sharing