Hungry Necromancer

Fear wracks through me at the declaration. A single pair of blue eyes find my own, they shine cold and bright, not unlike a fire anxious to eat up whatever fuel it can get on. Anselm was right, I could feel myself begin to unravel at his eyes, the Diviners eyes. They bore through me like a needle sewing threading; always coming back for more, leaving no space disconnected, bringing it all together and holding it all together by its strength alone, that is the Diviners eyes.

I tear my eyes away via sheer force of will and perhaps a splotch of mana and when I open my eyes again, I'm back at the centre of the crowd, Garland is arguing with the Mayor and the Diviner is…just an old man with a staff.

I'm relieved and anxious at the same time. The old man was several feet away, even farther than the Mayor he came with and yet his influence found me. What sort of magic was that? Perhaps I'm in over my head with this spirit thing. I should leave, yes, while I still have my secrets and nihilism intact.

I jump to my feet and get set to turn around, only that seemed to attract more attention than I'd thought. I'd forgotten I was a centre of attention. The crowd seems to react to my single step and move forward.

Once more all eyes are on me. Garland and the Mayor stop arguing and I groan at my misfortune once I see the Diviner moving towards me. Quickly I put on a smile to hide my nervousness and make my way forward as well. It wouldn't help to back down right now.

We meet at the middle or I think we do anyway. My bright pastoral smile is met by the stern glare and accusing gaze of the Diviner and the Mayor. Up close the Mayor falls a few inches short of my six feet so they both find themselves looking up at me. At first, I try avoiding the cold blue of the Diviner but it can't help but look, especially when he was making it so prevalent. So, I stop resisting, I may be frightened of his abilities but I am no coward. I keep a steady grip on my mana as I exercise it, getting it ready for whatever may come of this.

Garland the Third is the first to speak, he waves his hand between I and the two saying, "This is the village Mayor Perlman and here is the village's assigned Diviner."

"And who are you?" the Diviner, his voice is stronger than his posture, his gaze remains trained on me throughout the short introduction.

"This is…" Garland starts to speak and suddenly finds himself loss of words. I bite my cheek as I realize I hadn't gotten around to introducing myself to the crowd, or anyone aside from Elsa and Sem for that matter.

"I am the bridge." I answer, it was a literal and simple name, you got the general idea when someone called the bridge has something to do with spirits, it needed no explanation and the layman could quickly understand why I am important. Or was important for a single hour before getting executed for heresy that is.

"The bridge…" the Mayor, Perlman mutters snidely. "And you claim to be capable of?"

"Bringing lingering spirits from the purgatory. The space between life and death."

"Heresy!" I flinch at the sharp rebuke, "Manipulating a soul is only for the Goddess Anera whom we all serve!"

I clench my fists and prepare, if my verbal defence here fails then…

"I do not manipulate souls. I simply guide them back from purgatory to the world of the living. I have no control over them whatsoever except being able to dismiss them as I please. The Goddess left these souls for me to guide, she gifted me these powers so I may give her children a chance at glancing their loved ones yet again, like I have done so for Garland here."

The Diviner and Perlman exchange a look and look back at me. Perlman speaks this time, words that shock me to my core. "Just what a foul Necromage would say."

***

I'm not sure why I thought they wouldn't know what a necromancer was, or looked like. But I did. Maybe I thought my façade of small-time divinity was enough to fool them, but the Diviner is obviously a blood hound.

However, it was a simple accusation, completely unfounded, I think. Back home it's the equivalent of pointing a finger at someone in the streets and yelling thief or murderer. You wouldn't be taken seriously. Well, a few do-gooders might, but the rest of the population would be too indifferent to bother with such a blatant accusation.

Point is, you need a lot more evidence to elicit an investigation talk less of an indictment. That's why I'm not fazed by Perlman's words, at least not any longer than the few seconds it took to acknowledge what he'd said.

It's typical really, for a medieval world like this one to be guilty first innocent post-mortem. But again, I've been through too much to be thrown up the stake and burned at some back-water village.

"Necromage?" I tilt my head to the side and nearly pout in feign ignorance.

"Do not play dumb infidel, you shall have your head cut off and burned as a sacrifice to Anera herself!" The Diviner nearly growls. Though, his words do frighten.

"I do not know what you speak of old man but I do not appreciate threats, even from the elderly." Truly I was beginning to tire from the interrogation. A large part of me now wanted nothing more than to drain the man of his very soul.

Garland the First places hand and body between us, likely not wanting his ticket to the physical world hurt. I'm flattered. "Diviner." He starts, his voice was calm yet deeper than his grandson's, "Surely you remember me, old friend. We started this outpost together all those years ago, sent by the King himself."

I smirk. They knew each other? Wasn't this lovely?

"Yes, Garland. And lest you've neglected your faith in the afterlife or you are the fabrication of this Necromage, you shall understand that there is no room for such heresy in our faith. Souls belong to Anera and Anera alone!"

"Yes, but my soul has not been taken. This young man here has been blessed with the ability to be the bridge between the dead and the living, a true bridge, he does not take me anywhere."

The Diviner glares, "Not yet he doesn't."

"Besides that, dear friend. I have a bone to pick with you."

Strangely the Diviner smiles, "Ah, I knew you would be tumbling in your grave."

"And tumble I did. You lifted the pawn of politics to my Grandson's place as Mayor? Look where it has brought the village! Suffering, death and constant attacks from the Cult of Phien!"

I'm lost yet again but it doesn't matter, the attention is off me and I can prepare my argument while listening. Although, Garland seems to have made my point of innocence for me, ironic given he is literal evidence of my guilt.

"If you watched from above then you know it was beyond me. Your grandson is now magic attuned." At that I see Garland the third lower his head. I guess magic wasn't a common commodity here. "Worse off he held sympathies for the elves! A village so close to Union, so near the outskirts needs a mage leading it and Perlman was offered up by his father."

"Perlman is an incompetent buffoon!"

"Hey! I'm right here. I can still have your head for that." Perlman cries out.

"I'm dead you buffoon!"

Perlman's defiance falters at the driven point. I smile and find now is a good time as any to step in.

"I am not a Necromage and I am not a denizen of this Kingdom."

All eyes turn to me, the resounding question goes unsaid but I answer it anyway. "I woke up one day in cave and I was greeted by a spirit of a squire who'd died there. If it wasn't for his assistance, I would no doubt have died. I found my way to Arak village where I resisted the initiation of the Cult and was only saved by the Following's timely arrival. They dropped me off here, where I met a kind elven family missing their father, a father whose death was ordered by the wicked and incompetent Mayor Perlman. Now I seek to undo that injustice."

I end up telling the truth. Mostly. The truth I've told honestly made more sense than any lie I could have made up.

My audience is silent, Perlman is notably fuming, "Injustice?"

I'd finally gotten Elsa to spill the beans on the big dishonourable secret that made the mere mention of her husband a conversation stopper. The truth was disgusting. I'm no hypocrite, I'm a bad guy, evil perhaps. But I'm not scum.

"One of the reasons I brought back Garland here was to right the many unjust actions carried out in this village. And it all begins with removing you from the Town Hall Perlman." Truthfully, I hadn't thought this through. It was only after speaking to them that I decided. It wouldn't be farfetched to say I was jumping from one problem to another, from pan to fire.

But I felt obligated to those two, especially after hearing their story. I can't just leave the village with my pocket heavy with coin. I won't. Not with Perlman right in front of me.

"I will have your head, Infidel!" Perlman spits. He turns away, walking out of the crowd shoving and kicking whoever is in his way.

I'd just picked a fight. A fight I likely couldn't win no less. Fortunately for me though, I cheat.