Hungry Necromancer

Chapter 14: Thief (P3)

To kill or not to kill, that is the question.

Well, Anselm was right. A lot of my anger, fury and rage dissipated seeing the two of them barely scrape by on the few coins that were in the purse.

I didn't see or count how much was in the purse but if it could only manage to get them a basket of fruit and vegetables then I really doubt it would have gotten me anything really good either.

However, within this setback I saw an opportunity. To learn and exploit the two. For whatever reason, they fear and revere the magic I possess. Perhaps because it could bring back the dead but that couldn't be it, they don't know Anselm is dead.

Either way, I had a plan. The house was shabby but it provided protecting from the blistering sun, for now I still had no other choice but to take what I get.

"Great Mage?"

"Hm?" Ah, I'd been silent too long, the woman began to fear again. Looking down at her I notice she is fairly pretty; she had that brown long hair tied up in a braid and blue eyes that shone with something.

"Well, Elsa. Since you have nothing to give me-"

"I offer myself Great Mage!" she strings to her feet, that something in her eye burns even brighter. I'm caught off guard but reminded of the woman back at the market, I look to the boy and I see it too. There is something off, something different about these people. "The child doesn't matter my Lord. I will send him away while you have your way."

I cringe and step back, Anselm has the same shocked look I did. This is absolutely not what I meant.

"Elsa, I don't want you."

"Oh," she looks terribly down trodden and I realize I've made a mistake. "Of course, my Lord, you would not want to sully your Greatness with a woman as lowly as I."

I groan and pinch my nose. Anselm snickers but finally comes in to save me, "What he means is, he does not mean to have a way with you like a harlot, he simply wishes something else from you, let him speak and you shall find out."

Finally!

"Great, now Elsa, it's simple really. I'm going to be staying with you and the boy, from now on you'll do what I say and do it right, Okay?" she makes a face like she's realizing a basket of fruit didn't equate a life in servitude to a Warlock that came out of nowhere, "Don't worry, it won't be forever, just as long as I need to make back what I lost."

"There is no problem with this Great Mage. Serving you will bring great honour on my family and my race as well." Her pink lip dip, her frown is nearly cute, "It's just that, we will not be able to serve you satisfactorily."

I raise a brow and glance at Anselm. He just shrugs and says, "Explain."

"Well, in this village we have been forbidden from tilling the soil so we cannot grow our own food. My husband died in adishonourable way and we've been struggling ever since, there are very few work places that will take me as a simply servant in fact. I've been working for the Mayor, but he isn't exactly the kindest Lord so we starve on ten coppers a week. We have no way of supporting you as well my Lord."

She shuffles in her filthy maid dress, its origin revealed as the Mayor's property. There was a Mayor. I'm already learning new things.

"That's fine, Elsa. A long as you provide me with clothing and shelter you would be repaying your debt.", I wave her concerns away, in truth I never expected for anyone to carry my weight for me. It seems food was still a concern, perhaps even more for them than it was for me. I'd need to get a job if I were to survive then.

"I still have what's left of my Husbands clothes," her voice hitches a bit, every time she mentions her dead spouse. I felt a bad taking his clothes, but he wasn't using them. "And if you can make do with my humble abode then please make yourself at home."

I nod and follow her as she picks up the basket and leads me to the shabby living room with one table and three chairs. "I will make this into a meal for us, Great Mage." She picks up some coal and stuffs it into the pockets of her dress and heads out of the house. Leaving myself, Anselm and the bewildered boy, Sem.

I take a seat at the table, the chair I sit on is wobbly as if one leg is shorter than the rest. The boy didn't look away though, he only switched targets, looking between me and floating Anselm.

"What do you think he's looking at?" Anselm asks.

I shrug, "Maybe the floating person in his home?"

"Or the supposed Great Mage in his home?"

"Hey! I am great. You said so yourself the first time I cast a spell on you."

He snorts, "Well yeah, until I discovered you were even wussier than I am. And your spells can't exactly save anyone."

I shrug. That much was true. Necromancy isn't exactly a school of magic that promotes life.

"What type of Mage are you?" Sem, the boy asks finally. His eyes settling on me yet he eyes Anselm with a bit of caution.

"Type?"

"Yes." Is all he says.

Right. The owner of this body was a Pyromancer before I switch to Necromancy. I hesitate to answer with the truth, I had a slight inkling that Necromancy wasn't the most celebrated type of magic.

"I am a powerful Mage." Is all I give hoping his attention would be caught by something else.

"Yes. But what type?"

I sigh, I guess medieval twelve-year olds didn't suffer from a short attention span.

"He is a Necromancer," my head whips to Anselm as he spilled the very beans I didn't want spilled, "He communes with the Dead and sometimes they follow him."

The boy gasps and snaps his fingers, a smile creeps on his sunken cheeks, "I thought so. That means you are a spirit?" he asks Anselm.

Anselm does a spin, although it isn't as flagrant as usual with the limited space, it serves its purpose. "Yes!"

"Great Mage." He calls, his voice is formal so I know he's about to ask me to do some magic. "Would it be possible to commune with my father?"

Before I can answer or even think about the request Anselm jumps in and asks, "Don't you have a diviner in this village?"

He frowns, perhaps because the question bothers him or because Anselm began to fade away. He turns to me, surprised.

I shrug, "I can't keep spirits physical for long." I cast Summon Spirit and think about the spell. So far, I've levelled it up to the point that Anselm can stick around for up to six minutes with one cast, the spell doesn't cost much mana so by the time he starts fading I'd already regenerated the mana I used.

"But the mage is getting better at keeping me around for longer." Anselm says as he reappears.

"If only you would stop flying" I mutter.

He ignores me and prompts Sem to answer his question.

"The diviner is under the Mayor. My father died dishonourably and we were stripped of many privileges, so we haven't even gotten our free pass at communing with him after his death."

Diviner? Free pass? I have a lot of questions piled up but I hold off on asking them, I can't seem to know less than a Great Mage is supposed to.

Instead I ask, "How exactly does someone die dishonourably?"

The room falls quiet, Anselm even stops floating and I know I asked the wrong thing. Sem's eyes water but he holds it still, not letting it drop.

"Can you commune with my father for me, Great Mage?" his voice trembles and breaks at the sentence, but I let on no indication at that. Instead I nod.

"I will try." I let mana flow through and pool in my eyes. They flare and I know they're glowing a green colour, "Sense Death." I mutter. The world changes and I look about the room but there isn't any new spirit around.

Sem stares up at me expectantly but Anselm held a slight frown, he knew there wasn't any spirit in here from the start. But for Sem's sake let me search anyway.

"There's nothing," I mutter as I end the spell, "I'm sorry."

"There's a chance he has moved on to the light of course." Anselm rushes to say.

"No, it's fine." He shakes his head. "Thank you for trying, Great Mage." He bows to me and leaves the living room, heading outside to presumable sulk or help his mother cook.

I turn to Anselm and level him a stare. "I have a lot of questions, but let's start with what the fuck is a diviner?"