The misadventures of the necromancer

Neven’s laughter echoed through the woods, easing some of the tension the strange Nero had caused. But it failed to truly relax anyone.

“Good joke!!” he declared once he finished laughing, and with a smile as genuine as the young man’s earlier one had been fake, he continued:

“Considering you’ve just gathered my wives, I’ll let this pass…”

Nero seemed intrigued as Neven spoke, but didn’t interrupt.

“…Provided you hand them over to me now,” he finished slightly harshly, gesturing toward the two girls.

She couldn’t help noticing that although the young man followed the motion of Neven’s hand, he didn’t seem worried. Worse, behind him, the two other boys appeared to be calming the girls, apparently reassuring them that they had nothing to fear.

“You’re with both of them!??” exclaimed the young man, revealing that his interest lay there—not in Neven’s veiled threat.

Once again, she found herself unsure how to react to the scene unfolding before her, her heart racing as she was forced to leave Neven to handle the conversation. While she tried to understand their situation.

“Yes,” Neven answered, apparently also not understanding what was going on.

“Really? Both of them!!?” the boy replied, still shocked by that simple fact, looking at the girls and then at Neven.

“Yes!!! I already said they’re both mine. Now step aside!!!” Neven shouted, clearly frustrated.

This made the boy focus intently on him and declare,

“Having one wife wasn’t enough for you, and now it looks to me like both of them want a divorce.”

He ended with an amused grin:

“You know what they say—who wants everything, loses everything.”

Fury overtook her grandson. Neven drew his sword and pointed it at the carefree stranger, shouting, “Get out of the way or you all die!”

His men all took a step forward, ready for the nearly inevitable order.

“Oh, oh. Calm down, I think it’s better you ask my friends what they think,” said the boy, stepping forward as if simply trying to delay the inevitable a little longer.

This made her wonder whether someone else might appear—perhaps the mage she had previously suspected.

But she couldn’t avoid noticing that the young man still seemed far too calm. As if the armed warriors didn’t matter at all, and as if Neven’s rage didn’t concern him.

“Why do I care what your two companions think? They’ve already made me waste enough time here,” Neven said, glancing at the two boys still calming the girls, paying more attention to them than to the battle about to begin.

Nero glanced back before turning to Neven again with a loaded expression.

“What do I care about the opinion of those two idiots?” he replied.

Then, forming a dark smile, he continued,

“I mean these friends of mine…”

He spread his hands toward the ground and proclaimed in a voice that carried:

“Lesser servant of Dekart.”

Lights formed in his hands, though she didn’t catch the details. What she did see clearly were the two human-sized drawings that appeared on either side of him where his hands pointed.

From the center of these drawings, strands of blue light emerged and began a sort of dance—coming together and separating—until, as they joined, what looked like bones formed.

Everyone watched the strange spectacle in near suspense. Well—almost everyone.

Neven, with his talent for combat, understood this was not the moment for distractions. He launched himself toward the mage, trying to strike before the spell was complete.

But the mage didn’t seem worried at all, letting his smile widen as though thoroughly amused.

Unfortunately, Neven was a moment too slow. The magic was completed, leaving two skeletons equipped with sword and shield materialized beside the mage, pale blue lights glowing from their eye sockets.

They moved quickly, stepping forward to shield him. Neven still managed to strike one of their shields, but with little effect. He immediately retreated several steps, distancing himself from this unexpected threat.

Instead of advancing to support their leader, she heard a warrior mutter a frightened conclusion:

“Necromancer!!”

The necromancer raised both hands in what looked like frustrated exasperation, and for the first time raised his voice:

“What necromancer!? How many times do I have to say this is spell—”

Pointing at the skeletons, looking ready to rant, he suddenly stopped.

Taking his hands to his face in irritation, he declared:

“You know what? Fine.”

He let his arms drop as if in defeat.

“Yes, necromancer. Great and terrible necromancer.”

With a heavy, bored tone, he gestured at himself, then looked back at the clan through his skeletons.

“So, disappear before I send you home as an undead.”

She couldn’t help reflecting on what she’d just seen. Though mages were rare—especially around here—she had met others before.

Most were people of little talent fleeing problems from elsewhere. Capable, yes, but not to be taken too seriously.

Only once, when she was young, had she seen what most people imagine when they think of mages.

A middle-aged man, who called himself apprentice to one of the great mages of the age, led an armed group hunting a necromancer who had killed the wrong people.

They had recruited people from her clan as scouts since they knew the terrain better. She had been among the chosen.

She’d witnessed the clash between those two mages. The battle had been swift—the apprentice had utterly dominated, shooting fireball after fireball.

From that, she learned: the only way to become a powerful mage was through powerful connections, and that those mages are to be feared.

That was why she had waited until now. She had already seen what a real mage could do. And she had no doubt that so-called apprentice could never have cast two spells at once... Which meant this Nero…

Her thoughts were interrupted by another laugh from her grandson—though she could detect some tension beneath this one.

“Good story!! But everyone knows undead made by necromancers don’t last that long…”

She had to admit Neven was doing a good job of hiding his emotions behind this forced amusement.

“…so you can hardly make us attack our own,” Neven concluded coldly, glancing back at his men.

Looking into their fearful, hesitant eyes, she understood his goal.

He was trying to motivate them despite all the stories they’d heard about magic—trying to keep them from losing the battle before it began.

They still had the advantage of numbers. Even if the skeletons were hard to fight, the rest of the group ahead should be easy to defeat. And once the necromancer fell, everything would become even simpler.

But only if they were ready to fight—so Neven used the inconsistency in Nero’s threat to undermine his credibility.

Smart boy.

“That’s what you thought I meant!?” Nero protested, looking both confused and offended.

“But what could I expect from someone willing to kill his own wives to murder a baby, who is also his… cousin.”

“Brother-in-law, the baby is her brother,” corrected the blond boy who had created the ball of light earlier.

“Doesn’t matter, Blondie!” Nero replied, turning back to Neven.

“Look, all I meant was… if you go through with this, the only way you’ll return home will be as undead. Not that I’d send you to massacre your own families,” he clarified, strangely irritated by Neven’s distortion.

“Yes, yes…” Neven began, sounding amused and likely feeling back in control. “Now that I’ve exposed your empty threats—and knowing we have the advantage—it’s clear that’s not what you meant.”

With his free hand, he gestured to the clan warriors, who seemed more motivated now, closing ranks behind him with weapons raised.

She began to think she should tell her grandson not to kill any of the boys.

Someone as talented as Nero must have a fearsome master. And if anything happened to him, the clan would not survive the consequences.

The necromancer, meanwhile, replied calmly, taking Neven not at all seriously.

“Empty threats!? Oh, no, no…”

He waved his hands emphatically. “I can easily turn a few of you into undead and send you back home, to kill everyone you know.”

The casual way he said this froze everyone—even the girls looked at him in shock.

He slowly shrugged.

“I just hadn’t thought of it.”

Then his dark smile returned.

“But if that’s what you want? That can be arranged.”

She began to wonder whether the bigger problem was the master she had feared…

Or this Nero himself.

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