The misadventures of the necromancer

Slowly, he turns around, taking in the sight of the room. The people who remain are pressed against the wall opposite the stairs leading to the upper floor, but still away from the entrance. Their faces show relief at seeing his father arrive — a sight that actually fills him with a bit of pride. Seeing the respect his father commands feels only natural.

The reason they hadn’t gone to the entrance was that the fight between Fendat and the stranger Nero had pushed them toward that wall, not far from the doorway. That must have made the rest of the inn’s patrons hesitate before approaching the two fighters.

Nero, meanwhile, lets the chair he was holding drop with a loud crash, startling several people who jump at the sound. He looks toward the entrance where Tevat’s father stands — now the closest person to him.

Finally, father and son face each other as two guards enter the inn and take position on either side of the mayor. From his father’s expression, Tevat can immediately tell how displeased he is with the chaos filling the inn. The look makes Tevat’s mouth go dry as he prepares to answer the unspoken demand written across his father’s face: “Well? Explain yourself.”

“Father!!” he says, trying to think of how to explain all this.

“Ohhh!” Nero exclaims softly, giving the apparently unconscious Fendat’s body a light kick before crouching to pick something up. When he notices everyone looking at him, he answers casually, “Go on, go on. I want to hear how this explanation plays out.” He speaks as though all of this were perfectly ordinary.

Above, a voice calls out, “Come on, we don’t know how long we’ve got!” Turning toward the sound, Tevat sees Adar pushing people aside at the top of the stairs, shouting, “Out of the way! And if you’ve got any sense, you’ll get out of this inn!” Then he disappears, with Ena following right behind him.

But the commotion draws his father’s attention upward, toward the men at the top of the stairs.

“Vendar! How good to see you — hard at work, I see,” his father says with a smile.

A plump man with thinning gray hair steps forward, replying, “Oh yes, yes, Mayor. We were discussing some business when this confusion broke out.”

With that, Vendar and his companions begin descending the stairs, each greeting the mayor in turn. From the upper floor, doors slam and Adar’s voice rings out, urging anyone still there to leave the inn.

“Yes, I understand. And I hope you’ll forgive any inconvenience my son may have caused. You know how young men are!” the mayor announces, ignoring the noise upstairs. The remark irritates Tevat deeply — why should his father apologize to this group of nobodies? Even if they were rich merchants, they were nothing compared to his family.

“Oh yes, let’s apologize to the rich guys who just happened to be here, while ignoring everyone else,” Nero mutters as he leans against a nearby empty table. “Truly charming.”

Tevat almost retorts, but his father’s heavy stare silences him. And since both his father and the merchants ignore Nero’s sarcasm, he assumes staying quiet was the wiser choice.

The merchants reach the bottom of the stairs and head straight for the door, shaking the mayor’s hand. “Then we’ll leave you to handle this little problem,” Vendar says.

His father smiles gratefully. “Oh, yes, yes. I’ll have to greet you all properly another day.”

As the men leave the inn, his father turns back to him with a tense voice: “Tevat! What’s going on here!?”

That leaves Tevat no room to maneuver — he must answer truthfully.

“Well… It’s like this… I heard that Ena was meeting a man here! So I—” Tevat doesn’t even finish before his father covers his face with one hand, already imagining the rest.

He only lowers his hand to glance at Nero and the stairs before asking, wearily, “Which one?”

It takes Tevat a moment to realize his father is asking whether the boyfriend is Nero or Adar. Nero, meanwhile, cheerfully declares, “Hey, I’ve got nothing to do with that.”

Tevat quickly explains that he spoke with the boyfriend upstairs, and that after that, when he was arguing with Ena down here, she bumped into a maid, spilling soup all over Nero.

Nero, smiling, adds, “A rather partial and cynical version of events. But let’s say it’s mostly accurate. After all, this is turning out to be interesting.”

“I assume you disagree with my son’s account?” his father asks Nero, throwing Tevat a warning glance to keep silent.

“Didn’t I just say I mostly agree? Not that I could disagree much — I had my back turned at the time, otherwise the soup wouldn’t have hit me,” Nero replies calmly. “But I can assure you he’s downplaying their little argument. After all, the girl didn’t bump into the maid by magic.”

He grins as he toys with something in his hand — something that both Tevat and his father quickly recognize as one of Fendat’s knives.

“I see. I can assume my son’s behavior displeased you, which led to…” his father begins, glancing toward Fendat’s limp body on the floor.

Then a noise from above draws their attention — Adar appears, helped by Ena while carrying someone on his back, probably her little boyfriend, who started this whole mess.

“Ohhh! Well, once I was drugged and imprisoned in an inn, and I can tell you their manners weren’t much worse than your son’s,” Nero says with needless exaggeration.

Hearing that, Adar nearly trips on the stairs, turning pale.

“He tried to avoid taking responsibility,” the mayor says.

That annoys Tevat — it isn’t true — and he protests, “I said I’d pay for the clothes! Then I got sucker-punched and kicked afterward!”

Nero raises his hands in mock defense, the knife still visible and prompting the guards to step forward. “Hey, I had nothing to do with that.”

“As for the punching and kicking, talk to Grumpy over there,” Nero adds, nodding toward his companion, who has just reached the bottom of the stairs. Adar’s eyes widen, clearly unsure what to say.

Ena follows him down, exclaiming, “Mayor, I can assure you—”

Only to be cut off by Nero, who doesn’t even raise his voice. “Of course, if my memory from three minutes ago doesn’t fail me, that only happened after you sicced your attack dog on us.”

Tevat turns toward Nero, who looks back expressionlessly — then forms a slow, cold smile that sends a chill down Tevat’s spine. “Too bad my lackey probably has as much blood on his hands as yours does.”

“Yes, I see my son didn’t behave well. I assure you, I’ll make it up to you…” His father says in his most conciliatory tone, which makes Tevat burn with humiliation, seeing his father forced to speak that way in front of Nero.

“You know what the maid said right after it happened?” Nero suddenly asks.

When no one answers, he continues. “She sincerely apologized! And the girl?” he says, nodding toward Ena.

Once again, silence fills the room — until Nero breaks it: “She apologized to me and to the maid.”

With a tilt of his head, he now indicates the waiter standing protectively in front of the maid, as if to shield her even from their looks. “Even he, on behalf of the inn, took full responsibility.”

Then he slowly turns his head toward the mayor and asks, “And what do you think was the reaction of the one who caused my burns and ruined my new clothes?”

The mayor looks around seriously, then answers Nero with composure and weight: “I understand your position, and I assure you that—”

He’s cut off by Nero’s loud, mocking laughter, which ends with him staring coldly at the mayor.

“I’ve been trying to figure out the scheme here, and I think I’ve finally got it.”

“The story is that we’ve got a crazy, spoiled child, and the only person who can control him is…” — Nero extends a hand toward his father — “…his poor, hardworking father who tries to educate him while running the town.”

His voice carries that insincere tone — the kind that sounds genuine but drips with irony. Hearing this challenge almost makes Tevat’s blood boil, leading him to shout, “How dare you!?”

Nero turns toward him with an expressionless face and says flatly, “Daddy doesn’t seem bothered…” as he drives the knife he’s holding straight into the table beside him.

Tevat looks at his father, who remains composed, not answering, continuing instead to study Nero carefully.

The latter continues his verbal onslaught: “But the story has a few holes, like…” he says, gripping the knife’s handle tightly.

“You know, I’ve been attacked by fists, clubs… maces, swords — even by…” He pauses and glances toward his companion with a thoughtful look. “Hey, Grumpy, what was that guy on horseback who attacked me with a spear?”

The strange question even catches Adar off guard, leaving him to think while adjusting the weight he’s carrying. Nero tries to clarify, “Come on, you know, funny mustache guy.”

That seems to jog the robed man’s memory, and he replies, “Cien!? But he never actually attacked you — it was Aden, remember?”

That makes Tevat stop to think, since the only Cien he’d ever heard of was Cien of Hunder — and no one would ever refer to such a distinguished warrior as “funny mustache guy.”

“Oh yes, that one! The look on his face when I grabbed his spear — priceless!” Nero says cheerfully, as if recalling a fond memory.

But immediately, his expression hardens again before he continues, “Just more clowns getting in the way of my peaceful life.”

Then, fixing his eyes back on Tevat’s father, he abruptly pulls the knife out of the table and says, “But let’s get back to the point of interest.”

Sliding a finger into a hole in his clothes, he continues, “You know what kind of people play with knives — and actually know how to use them?”

“Well… yes,” his father begins, hesitating slightly as if searching for the right words — something Tevat rarely sees him do. Leaving Tevat momentarily speechless.

“Fendat does indeed have… a somewhat unusual past. But I saw in him a man who needed an oppor—” his father begins to explain, occasionally glancing at the other patrons who are also listening to every word.

“Ohhh, so you thought it was a good idea to hire an ex-bandit as a babysitter for your idiot son?” interrupts Nero, his tone so cutting that Tevat nearly steps forward, tempted to punch the bastard outright.

But Nero keeps talking. “Tell me, how’s that been working out?”

Before anyone can respond, Nero continues his monologue: “Don’t bother, I’ve already seen the answer,” he says, pointing with his thumb toward the crowd.

“When your boy came in here, not one of them moved. Holy god — most of them just pretended nothing was happening. Like it was just another day.”

Nero refocuses on Tevat’s father, facing him squarely, and keeps going with a cold smile. “What does that tell you?”

It’s a rhetorical question — he clearly doesn’t want an answer — and just keeps talking.

“That they’re used to your son’s tantrums. So used to them that they don’t even bother calling Daddy anymore, when another mess is brewing.”

He leans slightly forward before continuing, “And the only explanation for that is that they know Daddy’s not going to do a thing.”

Soft murmurs and a few nods of agreement ripple through the room — from people too scared to speak out loud. Tevat clenches his fists in fury.

“Good scheme, huh? The brat causes chaos, and Daddy pretends he’s dealing with it. Everyone thinks they depend on Daddy to keep the pest under control… I imagine your job needs public support,” Nero says, sarcasm dripping from every word.

His father simply replies, “I’m sorry you think that.”

Finally, Tevat can’t bear to hear his father insulted any longer and steps forward toward Nero. “I’ll teach you some manners!”

Nero doesn’t even look at him, staying focused on his father. “Of course, Daddy’s clever,” he says. “Ever since he walked in, he’s been trying to figure out what kind of threat I am…”

Then, leaning slightly forward, toward his father, he adds, “The answer to that is much worse than you imagine.” And murmuring something under his breath, he stabs the knife back into the table.

This time, the knife bursts into blue flames.

The unreal sight freezes everyone. Not everyone notices at first, but those who do quickly draw the others’ attention, and soon the entire tavern falls silent.

Then his father breaks the silence — “A mage!!” His voice sounds like someone who has just found the missing piece of a puzzle. Even Tevat has to admit — with that revelation, Nero’s arrogance suddenly makes a lot more sense.

Nero steps back from the table, raising his hands slightly, leaving the burning knife embedded as if it were nothing.

From the staircase comes his companion’s voice: “Girl, when I start running, you follow right behind me.”

The guards move into defensive positions around their lord.

Tevat recalls how Fendat once told him he’d defeated a mage who was guarding a caravan — a quick fight, not worth much mention. Usually, mages didn’t fare well in close combat.

But looking now at Fendat’s unconscious body, Tevat has to admit that wasn’t always true — sometimes, the fear of magic was well justified.

A heavy tension settles over the inn as everyone waits to see what will happen next.

Then — someone bursts in through the door. Everyone turns to see who this newcomer is and to gauge their reaction.

It’s a girl of about eight or ten years old, who stops at the entrance, wide-eyed at the scene before her. Tevat feels like he knows her, but can’t quite place her at the moment.

Seeing his father, she gives a small curtsy and greets him, “Mayor, sir,” before scanning the room with her eyes.

Finally, she almost runs up to the stairs and, facing Adar, asks, “Mr. Adar?”

He, nearly in shock, just nods.

“My father sent me to tell you he’s already found the potion bottles, and all your purchases are packed.”

Adar, like everyone else, takes a moment to process this before smiling at the girl and saying, “Oh, yes. Thank you, we’ll be right there.”

Her mission accomplished, the girl happily hops out of the inn, seemingly delighted to have completed her errand.

“I guess we’ve done all our shopping,” Adar announces, then adds, “So we can get going and you won’t have to bother with this little town anymore, Nero. Don’t you think that’s best?”

Nero nods thoughtfully. “Yes, I think that’s best. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

Adar bends down to set Ena’s boyfriend — now regaining consciousness — down on the stairs, while Nero heads for the door.

The guards tense up, but Tevat’s father signals for them to hold position and let the two pass.

As Nero reaches his father, he stops and extends a hand. When he gets no reaction, he grabs his clothes and says, “Everyone promised compensation, but real money? That's nowhere to be seen.”

His father simply takes his coin pouch and hands it to the mage — clearly containing far more than the value of the damaged clothes.

Nero doesn’t even bother checking it; he just tosses the pouch to Adar, who catches it as he approaches, and they both leave the inn.

Just before stepping outside, Adar turns back to the room and declares, “You people should really thank that little girl. She just saved your asses.” And with that, he follows the mage out.

His father lets out a small sigh before addressing the patrons.

“My friends, I’m sorry for all this commotion. To make it up to you, your meals will be on me.”

Then he turns to the innkeeper standing by the door.

“I’ll send someone later to settle the bill…” he says, and glancing at the chair that had been broken when Fendat was knocked down, he adds, “Don’t forget to include any damages. And make sure the staff get a good tip.”

Finally, with a slight nod toward Fendat’s body, he signals the guards, who step forward to collect him.

As he begins to leave, his voice sharp and tense, he calls out,

“Tevat!!”

It’s both a clear order to follow and an unsaid promise of the punishment to come.

Tevat follows him in silence, eyes lowered. But in his heart, he swears vengeance against that mage for every insult he has dealt them.

No matter how powerful the man might be, there are always ways to deal with people like him.

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