The misadventures of the necromancer

Chapter XX

The light from the house is once again the only source of illumination that allows the sad scene in front of him to be visible. The scene of a daughter kneeling beside her father, crying over his passing. He had just tried to protect her and her child from the attack of a wild animal.

The child starts wailing loudly again, whether it's because of hearing the mother crying or feeling the depression that has spread over everyone. Or perhaps some combination of both, he can't say.

At the moment, he can only focus on his own guilt. After all, he could have changed the situation; all it would have taken was remembering a stupid name. The urge to scream in frustration is so intense. But how could he do such a thing while the girl is there awash in tears? How could he throw a fit here considering what just happened?

As he drowns in self-pity, the huntress stands up and approaches the girl. "It's better not to stay here. There might be more boars. Maybe it's better if we take you to Flatrock.", she says gently, stroking the girl's hair as she speaks.

The girl listens to the woman, nodding in agreement until she looks down and sees her father's body. "But, what about...?" 

The huntress quickly interrupts her. "My dear, it's better. If we take care of your father now. The longer we delay, the worse it will be. In a village, waiting a day or two would be possible. But here..."

The girl's crying worsens again, but she manages to say between sobs, "Yes... I... understand."

"Is there somewhere your father would like to stay?" the older woman pragmatically asks.

The girl visibly tries to calm down and think about the question asked. After a few seconds of sad silence, broken only by small sobs, she finally looks to one side of the house. To point with her head to a small elevation in the distance. It's difficult to see in the darkness but still possible to make out.

"That's a hill where my mother is. He would like to be with her." the girl says, her voice even more sad. Likely recalling her dead mother now.

"We'll take care of that," says the taller hunter as he gets up.

Hearing this and unable to think of anything else to do, he says, "We'll help. Both of you come."

Truth be told neither Grumpy nor Blondie hesitated. They simply looked at him seriously and nodded in agreement. On the other hand, he can only think that at least this way. He can do something useful while trying to rid himself of his frustrations regarding what happened.

When the blond tries to get up from beside the daughter, the huntress calmly says, "No, you stay. If you can repeat that spell again. It might come in handy."

"She's right. They might need the light even if it's simply to entertain this one.", says the shorter hunter as he rocks the child in his arms.

"Here, hold onto the little one. I'll help the others." the hunter instructs Blondie while approaching the blond to pass the child.

Seeing the man approaching, the girl stands up and starts reaching out her arms, saying, "No, let me have him."

The huntress rises and holds the young woman's hands cautiously. "Maybe it's best if you clean up first."

Upon hearing this, she looks at her hands and clothes to realize they're stained with blood. Her father's blood.

A realization that makes her bring her hands to her face in shock. And a return of the tears. The huntress tries to reassure her with a hug. To then lead her into the house.

"I'm not very good with children..." the blond begins to say to the hunter now next to him.

"Don't worry, if the child becomes too difficult, cast the light spell again. It should distract him for a while. And the mother will be back soon. Taking care of the child will give her something to do." says the hunter calmly as he hands the child to him.

"You'll have to help Valerie prepare old Van. It will be hard on the girl," he concludes. Looking at the body lying on the ground. Now focusing on the child in his arms, Blondie just nods.

"Then let's go," says the taller hunter as he bends down to pick up the hoe used by the farmer to defend his family.

"I feel a bit bad for taking this without asking. But that girl has more to worry about," he says softly while putting the hoe on his shoulder. And starting heading for the small hill.

Considering that he fully shares the feeling just expressed by the man. He finds nothing to say and follows him.

So, the four of them set off. The two hunters take the lead while he and Grumpy follow behind. Initially, they walk in silence, probably focused on their own thoughts about the events of the night.

He's certainly in that category even when he tries to think about something else. His mind inevitably returns to a single question. 'How could he not remember a simple name?'

And then a question arises, "So what are you three doing here?"

A terrible question for them. And most likely, the last question they would want to answer. Almost hilarious is that by the tone of voice of the taller hunter, who asked the question. This is just one of those opening conversation questions.

The man is clearly trying to break the silence. And since the depressing darkness isn't conducive to asking about the weather. The man went with another simple and innocuous question. After all, how could the man know that this would be such a dangerous question for them?

Fortunately, grumpy simply has to recycle the story they had given to the old man a few hours earlier. Taking the opportunity to tell them, about how they had previously found the farmer. Once again, Grumpy proves to be a first-rate liar. Recounting the story of how they got lost. To then find the farmer in the field. Considering that, it was too late to continue to their destination, the old man had indicated where they could camp for the night.

He can't help but notice. How this time there wasn't a mention of a possible destination for them. Quite smart on his part, as they don't want the group of hunters to offer to accompany them.

"And do you often hunt around these parts?" Grumpy asks the hunters. This leads to a mental applause from him to Grumpy. The new question steers the conversation away from us.

"Not much. This must be the first time, we've come here in a few years. Usually, we're closer to Dantar," the hunter replies.

"I thought you knew the farmer?" Grumpy asks, continuing to steer the conversation away from us.

"No. I think Ben had heard of him," the tall hunter says, looking at his companion, who nods in agreement. "But we knew about him because we found him this morning."

"Just today!" Grumpy comments.

"Yes. We received the contract to hunt the wild boar. And when we came here, we found him..." a small smile appeared on his face while speaking. "When he found us, he was angry to see strangers on his land."

"I understand. The old man was quite upset when he saw us too," Grumpy reveals, keeping the conversation moving.

Before the conversation could continue, they reached the top of the hill. Silence descends upon them as they see a grave with a headstone.

They stand for a few moments. Looking at each other amidst the darkness that seems to diminish with the shy appearance of the moon. Knowing they were in front of the deceased wife of the farmer, and now they had to leave him by her side.

"So, shall we begin?" the tall hunter asks them. While starting to mark the limits of the new grave with the shovel.

Seeing that the hunter is tired from all that has passed today. He steps forward to say, "You're tired. Give me the shovel."

The hunter looks at him seriously, asking, "Are you sure?"

He extends his hand, saying, "Yes, I'm sure. I must be the one in better physical condition here."

The hunter looks for a moment at his companion and Grumpy. But seems unable to say anything in response to his assertion.

"I thought mages were weak," he comments as he hands him the shovel, shaking his head.

He evaluates the shovel for a moment. As he starts to dig, he hears Grumpy saying, "Yes, they usually say that. But Nero isn't exactly the most normal of mages."

"I'll believe that. With that fireball, he can't be very normal," the shorter of the hunter's comments.

"Yes, as you saw, that's a powerful spell," confirms Grumpy.

"Are you a mage too?" the tall hunter asks him.

"Yes, but I'm the weakest. Seres is a much more capable mage than I am," he replies in an embarrassed tone, referring to his friend.

Their conversation continues. But he tunes them out, no longer paying attention to them. Because his mind is occupied by something more important.

His failure. As the shovel descends to open the grave of a man he had seen just hours before. A man who is now dead. And he can't help but feel it's all his fault.

The hole slowly grows as the shovel removes the dirt. While his mind reflects on what happened in the last few hours. Since they encountered a farmer angry for having strangers on his land. Until they found the wild boar. And then the hunters. To continue in the final conflict with the wild boar. Ending in the farmer's last moments.

How many times could he have saved the man? In the end, it was the lack of potions or healing spells. But before that, there were times he could have killed the wild boar. But he hesitated or was afraid of the consequences.

In the end, it was a father and grandfather who paid for his fears and hesitations.

He continues to think and dig until he feels movement behind him.

"Rest for a bit. I'll dig for a while," says the shorter hunter, who has just entered the hole in the ground he opened.

"It's not..." he begins to speak, only to be interrupted by the other man.

"Young man, you're dripping sweat. Rest for a bit," the hunter says with a gentle voice and gaze.

Before he can argue, a drop of sweat falls to the ground. Prompting him to wipe his face, which is indeed covered in sweat. Assessing that it's better to rest for a bit. He hands the shovel to the other man.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You saved lives today," the taller hunter tells him as they exchange the shovel, leaving him surprised and at a loss for words. So he just nods.

He turns and exits the grave. Where the other hunter is waiting, saying, "I'm amazed at how well you dig. Didn't expect a mage to handle a shovel so skillfully. Must be why you're in such good shape."

Something that may have some truth to it, and he honestly doesn't know how to respond. Is he in good physical condition because of the exercise he had when he arrived in this world? Or is it due to the points in physical attributes he put into Nero? After all, trying to create a mage by only putting points into mental attributes could leave the build unbalanced.

He reasons that it's most likely a combination of both factors.

"Maybe. I spent some time on a farm. That's where I learned to dig. Not that I'm very good at it." He replies to the hunter with all sincerity. While avoiding any game references.

"Really!!! I thought all mages were rich!" the hunter remarks.

"Being rich must be convenient. But I suspect it's not mandatory. After all, I don't think. They have any money either." He comments while pointing to Grumpy.

"Yes, as Nero said. Indeed, Seres and I come from a small village." Grumpy replies, smiling a little and looking embarrassed.

"Somewhere I might know?" the man asks, interested.

"Hardly, it's a small and remote place," Grumpy responds, maintaining his embarrassment. Though what he must feel is a concern. Considering his personal story, giving too many explanations about his past must be troublesome.

"So how did you two manage to become mages?" the man asks, intrigued.

Grumpy smiles a bit while scratching his head, saying, "Mages, is a bit of an exaggeration. At most apprentices. For the how, as Nero told us. It takes luck..."

The young man continues to speak, fabricating some nonsense. But he, for his part, stops paying attention to them. By now, he knows Grumpy can spin a good tale.

He only wishes the others would stop using their real names, especially Nero's. But by now, nothing can be done. So he returns to meditating on the recent events and on something that had haunted his nights before.

Old Torvir, the first person he had seen being killed. Although he does feel some guilt about it. It's less because of the death. After all, he was the only one in the caravan who tried to save the old man. And more because of what happened afterward.

The hours pass, with the four of them taking turns to dig the grave. In the end, he and Grumpy are the ones who dig the most, which they can't complain about. Considering they are younger and not injured.

When the grave is at an appropriate depth, they descend the hill to the house. As they make their way, the magical light that was illuminating, the exterior of the house goes out. Leaving only the dim light emanating from inside the house.

Quickly they return to the front of the house. Where they find the blond and the huntress arranging the body they had placed on a wooden plank. The girl is nearby watching, them work as she cares for the child in her lap.

"We are ready," asserts the shorter hunter.

"I think we are too." Says the huntress in turn.

So, he and Grumpy hold the plank at the back. While the two hunters hold it at the front. As they prepare to begin their procession to the grave, he looks at the body, now as clean as they could make it. And he remembers how the man had complained about the darkness before dying.

Looking around, he realizes that despite the clouds having receded a bit and there being more ambient light, everything still feels gloomy and depressing.

So he extends his free hand and whispers, "The last light of magic," as the light rises in the air, illuminating the surroundings. He can't help but think how ridiculous the name of the spell is. Although, at this moment it actually makes some sense. It is the last light his magic can provide the farmer.

The remaining members of this sad procession look at him with mouths agape but say nothing. And so they begin their journey.

When they reach a point along the path where the light from the ball becomes weaker, he casts the spell again, creating another ball of light to illuminate them. This is something he repeats four more times until they reach the grave. There, he repeats the spell two more times to illuminate the area of the grave.

Amid the now well-lit hill, a daughter bids farewell to her father for the last time. Then, the old farmer is laid onto his final rest. After being covered with a sheet, they begin covering him with dirt.

After the burial, everyone stands for a moment looking at each other. Probably not knowing what to do or say. So, he decides to speak.

"I think, then... that we should return to our camp."

"Yes, for our part, we will help the girl tidy up what she needs before going to the village." Says the huntress, nodding towards the farmer's daughter.

"Then... goodbye and good luck." He says hesitantly. After all, what is he supposed to say in a situation like this? The blond and his friend just nod in agreement.

"If you need anything, just say so. We'll still be around for a bit. And then we'll be in Flatrock for a few days," says the shorter hunter.

"It shouldn't be necessary. We should be leaving soon." He immediately rejects the offer. It's best for them to leave as quickly as possible and avoid as many questions as possible, taking advantage of everyone's state of shock. Before they start having difficult questions to answer.

He turns to leave while the others get ready to follow. And at that moment, the ball of light illuminating the front of the house goes out. Making them stop. To see moments later, the next ball going out.

For some reason, they all stand watching as the spells of the light balls, one by one come to an end. Until it reaches them. When the last ball on top of the hill goes out, he feels it would be wrong to leave the deceased in the darkness and returns to the grave to cast a final spell.

With this final action, he prepares to leave. When the daughter appears out of nowhere. While balancing the child with one arm, she hugs him and says.

"Thank you." The girl's voice sounds tired and worn, which is understandable considering everything. But it's the total and absolute sincerity she conveys that breaks his heart.

After all, what can he say, "No, don't thank me. I could have saved your father and I didn't." Of course, he can't say something like that. Giving her that knowledge would only bring her more pain.

So he struggles to give her a smile illuminated by his own spell. And he nods to her, not having the courage to say anything else.

With this final interaction, they head back to their camp. As they reach the end of the cultivated fields and cross the line of trees, the mule that had been hiding appears.

Not even the damn path to the camp is simple. And they get lost for a bit in the dark forest. But finally, after a few stumbles. They manage to return to the camp they had abandoned, not so long ago.

"I don't feel like spending much time here. What do you say we pack up. And as soon as the sun comes up, we move on. Then we'll make a longer stop at midday." He asks the other two, who even in the darkness can be seen to be tired. But despite that, they don't disagree.

Before starting to pack up, he remembers to ask them. "Did you see, the fuss I made with the Angel's Tear?"

Immediately and apparently without thinking, Grumpy says, "Angel's Tear, was that the name of the herb..." before standing still and looking at him with a shocked expression.

"Fuss, what fuss? I didn't see any fuss," he hastens to say, vigorously shaking his head and hands.

He can't help but admire someone who for the rest of the day, had been a great liar. Now seems like a little child.

"It doesn't matter. Do you know how to recognize the plant and pick it? Yes or no," he says, trying to hurry the conversation. In response, Grumpy nods affirmatively. The blond, on the other hand, seems more hesitant. "Alone, maybe. With Adar's help, for sure."

"Alright. If you find any, pick it. If you need help, call out." With these instructions given, the two look at each other in one of their silent debates. He turns his back on them and prepares to go pack up.

"But for what?" he hears Blondie's voice asking.

How can he answer them? These two surely, have seen much more death than he has. How can they understand? Should he even try? Or would they assume his feelings are some weakness they can use?

"I can't undo the mistakes I've already made. So, at the very least, I have to learn from them. To be better prepared next time." is the best answer he can give them.