The misadventures of the necromancer

From the back comes the sound of metal striking metal and the heat of the forge, making Saca wonder just how hot it must be where the blacksmith is working.

At the counter in front of her stands the blacksmith’s wife, placing a series of knives on top of it so she can show the goods they have for sale, just as Adar had asked.

The night before, after they had arrived home and begun telling Seres about the events they had gone through, Nero had suddenly produced two knives. Apparently, they were the weapons the assassins had carried when the necromancer captured them.

Grumbling that they needed some means of defense for when he wasn’t around, he had handed one of them to Sena. Then he hesitated, looking between Saca and Adar as he decided who should receive the last weapon. In the end, with some reluctance, he gave it to Adar.

Considering that Sena had the other one, his decision was understandable—giving one of the boys a way to protect themselves. But after being chased while carrying Delmic, Saca had gained a new respect for the ability to protect herself and others. Especially since their greatest defense now, Nero, might soon have to deal with new threats.

Fortunately, as they were going to bed, Nero had told them that today they would all come here to buy more weapons for the rest. Which would mean leaving the mule alone to guard the house.

Not that the creature isn’t capable of that task. In fact, the only reason someone usually stays behind is to prevent any curious person from discovering the true nature of the undead.

But apparently, the necromancer considers that a risk worth taking.

“You don’t have much choice!” Seres comments as she watches the woman place the knives on the counter.

“Yes…” the woman replies, sounding slightly embarrassed but not hiding a brief smile. “But as you can understand, due to the recent events, there has been quite a lot of demand. So our stock is low.”

“What’s been happening?” Nero suddenly asks, sounding genuinely surprised.

Adar immediately lets out a heavy sigh before answering.

“She’s talking about the disappearances and deaths that have been happening lately.”

Nero simply raises an eyebrow, clearly having heard nothing about a topic that has been discussed by practically the entire town.

“Even before we arrived, people had been disappearing. But it seems to have increased recently. And some bodies have even been found,” Sena tries to explain, while the woman behind the counter shakes her head in confusion that someone wouldn’t know this.

“And no one has done anything?” Nero asks, intrigued.

“At first it was only the poorest and the unwanted… it always starts like that,” Adar replies, sounding thoughtful, as if contemplating something.

“Idiots!” Nero mutters, shaking his head.

“In a world of magic, I’d be worried if dogs or cats started disappearing mysteriously, let alone humans!”

“But how do you not know this, Nero? We’ve even talked about it during meals!” Seres asks, surprised.

“Ohh! Yes… I really need to start paying a bit more attention to you guys…” Nero replies slowly, looking away from them. “But you’re usually so boring.”

Not exactly flattering—but at the same time, it’s not as if they can really complain. Someone like him must be used to discussing high magic that they can’t even understand.

“But go on, pick the knives,” he interrupts, pointing at the counter while gesturing for Saca to step forward.

“Clearly, we need even more to improve our security. I’ll have to think of something more,” he adds as she approaches.

There are eight knives on the counter, all of which appear to be of fair quality. One catches her eye. It’s simple, with straight lines, and reminds her of her father’s old, reliable hunting knife.

She reaches for it, then hesitates, glancing at Seres, who also has to choose one. She pushes aside the memory it stirs, refusing the happiness it brings because of the pain attached to it.

Seres simply smiles and gestures for her to choose first. Something she appreciates—remembering that the boys are always kind to her.

She takes the knife she likes.

Then Seres chooses his. A more elegant blade, slightly longer but thinner than hers.

“Shouldn’t you pick one too, Nero?” Sena asks when they seem to be done.

“For what? It’s not like I need one,” he replies calmly, almost bored.

“Wouldn’t it be safer if you had one?” Sena insists. And Saca agrees—it would be safer. Though at the same time, Nero is far from defenseless. He’s probably the most dangerous person she has ever met.

“For what? Just drawing it would be a waste of time,” he mutters, shrugging. Which, considering he’s a mage, is understandable; he'd rather use a spell.

Though the woman at the counter, unaware of that, rolls her eyes at what she assumes is youthful arrogance. The image reminds Saca of her aunt scolding her cousins when they acted tough—and for a moment she almost smiles, until sadness overtakes it.

“Pay, Grumpy,” Nero commands to Adar.

Adar steps forward, pulling coins from his pouch, muttering under his breath—so quietly that even Saca beside him barely hears it:

“At least there would be no risk of you setting the city on fire!”

Saca almost laughs. Adar really seems to believe the necromancer is that dangerous. She knows he is powerful, but burning down an entire city seems a bit exaggerated.

With that, they all arm themselves and head back into the street, walking toward Esther’s house.

As they pass a fabric shop, Sena stops and points to it.

“Wait a moment!”

Seres looks between her and the shop.

“Why?”

“Oh, since I’ve been working, I have some money to buy some fabric,” she explains.

“Yes, but for what?” Seres presses.

Sena points at Nero, who watches the scene curiously.

“To make him a shirt. Have you seen how he’s dressed?”

The boys look at each other in near shock, with a level of hesitation and unease Saca hadn’t even seen when they encountered the servant of the gods.

At last, Nero speaks carefully.

“Maybe that’s not the best idea.”

“Yes… not the best idea,” Adar agrees, nodding. Seres does the same.

Sena looks at Saca, and Saca looks back, neither of them understanding the reaction.

Adar decides to explain.

“You don’t understand, but… You have to consider that we just dealt with those two because of a shirt…”

“Recently bought,” Nero adds, nodding.

“But… wasn’t that because of soup?” she asks.

“Yes. The soup destroyed the shirt, you see,” Adar replies.

“That and the other guy stabbed holes through it during the fight,” Nero adds.

“But why would that stop you from buying new clothes? You’re walking around with a burnt sleeve… and the rest of your clothes aren’t much better,” Sena says, just as confused as Saca.

“Well…” Seres says. “It’s not the first time something like that has happened after he buys new clothes.”

“The sleeve was burned by a fireball used to defend us from a bear not long after he bought it,” Adar adds timidly.

Before Saca and Sena can fully process that, Nero continues.

“And while we were buying this coat at an inn, I discovered that the damn Temple of Divine Trials was about to open.”

That sounds vaguely familiar, but she can’t quite place it—until he clarifies:

“The temple that made the gods pay attention to me.”

That immediately reminds her of what had seemed like a dog growing in an impossible way, before revealing itself as a servant of the gods. And suddenly she understands the boys’ tension.

“And that wasn’t even the worst…” Adar continues.

“The time he bought an entirely new outfit... head to toe… well…”

“I had to burn it all,” Nero says. “…while I was wearing it.”

That leaves her staring at him, stunned. Trying to think of a reasonable reason he would do something like that.

“What!? How?” Sena asks.

“It had to be done,” Nero shrugs. “But I think you can see the pattern, right?”

“Yes. Only that coat we bought in that village. The one where you burned a tree so they’d let you make potions. Didn’t meet the same fate,” Seres adds.

“Sorana ended up with that one… and for me, meeting her counts as a disaster,” Nero mutters.

Saca vaguely remembers hearing the boys mention this Sorana, but right now she can barely think, let alone recall details.

“Well, she helped us with the spiders,” Adar interjects. “And we only got such a good price on the eggs thanks to her.”

That helps Saca remember. The money they have now is supposed to have come largely from the sale of giant spider eggs. That must be where she heard the name Sorana.

“Thanks to her!!” Nero snaps, raising his voice slightly.

“I remember facing about forty armed men to get that price.”

The others nod, confirming it, or at least agreeing with him.

It sounds absurd. But she remembers how calm the boys had been when the Clue tried to take them, always saying Nero had faced worse.

“But anyway,” Nero says, bringing them back to the present.

“I think you understand it’s better to leave that idea for another time.”

Saca can only nod. While beside her, Sena does the same.

What else can they do after hearing a story like that?

Part of her wants to hear more, to understand what they just said.

But another part fears the story would only become stranger and more confusing… and that she might learn things better left unknown.

“So, let’s go,” the necromancer says, gesturing for them to continue, almost cheerfully.

And they simply follow.

Given their situation… It's better to just move along.

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