Hungry Necromancer

Today luck just seems to be on my side. I can barely keep myself from laughing hysterically at how everything is starting to turn out. Best of all, this required little to no effort on my part, for once, this is all Anselm.

The personification of the answer to my problems stands erect at the door, his black hair seemed to suck up all the light and distract from his blue eyes, eyes that quickly dimmed down in excitement upon recognizing me.

However, these are not the most interesting things to mention about the moody prepubescent boy standing in the doorway.

In his free hand he carried the most particular items; a spiked mace and a military uniform. I can only imagine this has more or less something to do with the common interest Anselm and Mevir seem to have discovered in the short period between my latest near death experience.

Regardless, I smile. "Hello. Mevir was it? I am Asher."

Mevir barely tosses me a glance, quite the opposite in fact, as he attempts to look over my shoulder and into the house.

"Are you looking for something," No response, he still insists on looking over my shoulder.

"Are you looking for someone, Mevir?" At last, his eyes slowly come up to mine and his lips part as he starts off the first words.

"I-"

"Who is at the door!" Anselm's yell is particularly irritating at this moment as Mevir instantly shuts his mouth and looks at me expectantly.

Well, I guess I can consider this a well-deserved break. I'm tired of talking to the locals anyway.

"It's Mevir, our gracious host." I announce loudly, "Would you like to come in, Mevir? Or do you want me to take those off your hands and give them to Anselm."

"Well let him in already!"

Again, I lose the opportunity to converse even in the slightest with the brooding child. Quite not sure why I even bother myself, the boy is just like Anselm, if I get him talking, he'll likely not stop.

I step to the side and let Mevir in, the boy nods politely at me as he walks past me and into the house, head bouncing from side to side looking for Anselm.

"Why not head to the dining room? Anselm will be right out."

He nods and expertly navigates his way through what is literally his property. With him out of the way and waiting, I head into the room and meet Anselm halfway.

"An exciting interest you two have. What is it?"

Rolling his eyes at me he says nothing but makes a face that lets me know I wouldn't really care even if I was told. It's a common face of his, he uses it every time he doesn't want to talk about something but this time, I've got to be certain.

"Come on, tell me. The kid has a mace and a uniform with him out there." At these words Anselm's eyes quickly because saucers and his mouth a rest stop for passing flies.

Snapping my fingers several times over his face I bring him back to me and repeat the question. This time he really looks at me, or tries to look through me.

With a huff he soon resigns, "It's about Riveden. Or rather Saia."

Saia? I've never heard of, but Riveden, that I know. Riveden is or was the place Anselm was born. He also served under a Knight of Riveden and often boasts about it when he loses himself.

From what either of us know or can tell, Riveden is gone, or relocated entirely. Even in the maps that Leriva had at her disposal, the name Riveden was never written on any of them.

"What does he know about it?" Is my immediate response. This could be a breakthrough for us, for Anselm in his search for his home, in his search for how long he's been dead and the outcome of the war he marched into.

Without any prompts or hints I can quickly and confidently say Anselm is an old ghost. Left at his death place by Anera, the Goddess. Anselm has the bare minimum understanding of magic, he called me Great when I first announced I was a Mage and his Knightly ways of honour and glory are severely outdated that even here, the title of Knight is something out of a fairy tale.

Anselm is living in an era much different from his and the only common thing to it and this one is the Diviners. When I asked Anselm about the Diviners so long ago, he had an answer to give, a useful one too.

This means that the Synagogue is just as old if not older than Anselm. Their records would be the only ones that could possibly hold any relevant information about Riveden and the war Anselm died in, but alas, I am their enemy.

This is why Mevir mentioning Riveden is full of potential, there's a lot we can learn, a lot Anselm deserves to know.

"He read about it, his father, his Matron, they force him to study all sorts of things but he was really interested in Riveden, in Saia."

I shake my head and roll my eyes, "Okay, first of all, these kids are obviously Nobles of the highest calibre," Anselm snorts and rolls his eyes as if to say 'duh', "Second of all, back up, what the heck is Saia?"

Anselm breathes at this, "Well, Saia is the name of the Kingdom I was born in, and Riveden? Well, Riveden was its capital city, according to Mevir anyway."

I have a lot more to ask but I think it's time to let him go, he'd be better equipped to tell me all about…him, once he learns and maybe even remembers what and who he is in detail. Mevir will certainly help the effort.

I slap my hand on his shoulder and renew the Summon Spirit spell that keeps him around, I have a feeling they'll be talking about Saia and Riveden for a while. "I think you ought to go, can't keep your guest waiting," He nods, a hint of nervousness on him. Hilarious when you realize he is simply going to speak to a child, "You tell me all about it when you're done though."

With that I step aside and let him go find his answers.

***

True enough, the two stay in the dining room for an extended period of time. I hear a lot of laughter and a lot of things breaking which worries me a bit, but I don't see Anselm running to me about a murder so I don't think I should be too distressed at the chaos sown in the room.

Frankly, I've come down with a serious case of FOMO.

Is it FOMO though? I'm already missing out on a most certainly fun experience with Anselm and Mevir. Bah!

Unfortunately, it does serve to highlight how much time I've spent with Anselm lingering around, with his presence ever hanging over head; lightly judging me. A bit hilarious too when I picture the extreme loner I used to be back in my world.

Loner by choice, my choice. Cool guy I was, cool guy I've always been I just couldn't handle the crowd of people slobbering around me all the time. Family?

Nope, I was a wanted man or rather, a man the police heavily suspected for having participated in gang related crimes.

Friends? Well, I did have acquaintances and work buddy's I couldn't and wouldn't trust because of the inherent nature of my work. Always having to venerate some fat sob or some pervert because…gangs.

Either way, him being away for once in such a long time has me reflecting on the fact that I lived my life, my first life on my knees, with my fingers crossed and with eyes behind my back, never trusting anyone not to screw with me, not to turn me over, not to end my life.

A life on edge, a life of thrill and adrenaline filled adventure that's for sure. But a tired life all the same.

Now all I want is to…to live a good life. Maybe not an honest one but a good one all the same. And here? In this wide expanse with Gods, cults and wisps of lingering emotion. Well, I think this place is just chaotic enough to afford me the right balance of a well-lived life, and I'm looking forward to having Anselm by my side for it all.

For the second time tonight there comes a knock on the door. Relief washes over me as I've been wondering when Audwin would make it back with my things, I have food in there I still plan on eating, particularly the stiff meats. So chewy and I've been feeling terribly hungry.

I'm aware the bell still sat there undisturbed and there probably were several maids getting set to deliver to my demands but I just couldn't be the one to disrupt Anselm's meeting. I've got a feeling if Audwin or if any of the staff peeked Mevir in here this late, they'd cut the chitchat short and we'd end up having to pick it up tomorrow.

Unfortunately, tomorrow is reserved for travel to Aste, it might just be a hop and skip away from this beautiful mansion but Leriva is still dying.

Swinging the door open and making sure to position myself in the right way so he doesn't get any peeks past me, I greet, "Good evening, Audwin. Got my stuff?"

But it's not Audwin. The distinctly feminine gasp and light chuckle certainly didn't come from the stone-faced strict D-rank Spell caster.

"Why hello." She smiles at me, there's a mothering feel to the sound of her voice and by the way she's dressed; long black gown with flowery white puffs at the sleeves and neck. I determine she must be the Matron.

"Oh." Is all I can say, distracted by the familiar yet foreign tingling feeling that reverberates through my body just by having her stand a foot away.

"I am the Matron of this lodge, will you let me in?" her voice is soothing, kind and her caramel eyes crinkle with her smile, glistening with care and love.

Then I blurter out, "You're an Elf."

And it all disappears, "Oh."