"There are various well-known rituals to raise zombies, mom," said Annel. "Nothing like the ritual to raise you as a spectre. That was a risk. This is not. Well, not to me. However, to them..."

He was leaning over a crude pedestal, which held an open tome filled with stiff, ancient leaves of parchment. A smell of must and dust pervaded the air around it, as if it had long been closed. The page Annel was studying was weighted in one corner with a small stone.

"To them? What will happen?"

Annel didn't answer for a while, his lips moving as he moved his finger down the page. Then he straightened, looking to his mother and shrugging. Her shadow lay along the wall in the room beneath the temple; she was coming to prefer touching a surface rather than simply floating in the air.

"I'm not sure. I experimented before on small animals. Sparrows, rats, a rabbit, only using small amounts of mana. When I followed the ritual precisely, and guided the mana correctly, they returned to life. Especially the rabbit. But it seemed... listless. However, it wasn't able to tell me why."

After a moment, the spectre made her chuckling noise. Her best attempt at laughing, so far, still sounded like a raspy whistle more than a true laugh. For some reason, mimicking speech was easier.

"Hopefully, Tonnim will be able to explain."

Annel nodded, looking to the corpse on the floor. Parts of the skin had rotted away, but overall, it was whole, including the overly thin legs and fleshy beer-belly. Tonnim was the town drunk. Previously.

It remained to be seen whether zombies could fall victim to beer.

Devra watched while Annel traced on the floor around the body. It was a simple circle to help concentrate mana, nothing like the complex construction he'd used to create a spectre. Or rather, to summon the beings that created a spectre.

"What is the ritual? Perhaps it holds a clue to why the zombies seem listless."

"A simple channeling of negative energy, suffusing the pneuma, along with establishing a link to the negative plane, which is mostly self-sustaining. Simultaneously, a time inversion."

"That's not so simple."

"No, but it's not so different from what I trained for. Now, I need to concentrate and move quickly."

Devra lapsed into silence, watching Annel. He started with one of the newly acquired mana crystals, grinding it in an ordinary mortar while feeding in a trickle of mana. The resulting sand was carefully sprinkled over Tonnim's body, with concentrations on his stomach, heart and forehead. He then began walking counterclockwise around the circle, chanting a stanza from the book.

As Annel circled, holding his left hand out as if tracing the circle's line, his intent began to affect the crystal on the body. The crystal fragments glowed, releasing their energy before evaporating away entirely. An afterglow clung the body.

Slowly, the radiance darkened, until a black mist pooled over the body. The mist then sank into the skin.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Devra floated nearer, watching closely. The dark mana had a comforting feeling to her, like the smell of home.

After some time, Annel came to a halt, facing the body. Both of them held still, observing.

For a while, nothing happened. Finally, the fingers twitched, as if the man were waking up. His limbs jerked and twitched, and he let out several loud groans, until he seemed to run out of breath. Finally, his eyes opened.

"Tonnim. Rise, and begin your unlife!" Annel intoned.

Devra glanced at him, amused. That hadn't sounded like part of a ritual.

Tonnim's head turned, and he blinked his bloodshot eyes. Then he sat up, still staring toward Annel. His gaze was utterly blank.

Of course, he *was* the town drunk. His gaze was habitually blank.

"Get up, Tonnim. On your feet. Stand up," Annel said, patiently.

Tonnim obeyed, swaying as he got to his feet. He seemed to figure out how to breathe in as he did, issuing a loud grunt.

"It's difficult to tell if he's just being himself, or..." said Devra. Annel smirked, giving her a sidelong glance before looking back to the zombie.

"Tonnim, can you speak? Tell me the last thing you remember."

The zombie didn't respond, only staring at Annel, as if trying to figure out what he was.

"Maybe his brain rotted?"

"It shouldn't matter. The ritual should restore the function." Annel rubbed his chin, studying his creation.

"So what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know. Maybe you can find a way to communicate with him?"

Tonnim chose that moment to grunt again, taking a heavy step forward. A few dead maggots fell from a rotting patch of his stomach, splatting softly on the floor.

"Hmm... it seems there's something he wants to do."

The zombie stepped forward twice more, coming face to face with Annel.

"Tonnim?"

With a loud groan, the zombie raised its arms, placing its hands on Annel's arms.

"I think... he recognizes me?"

Then Tonnim's hands tightened. He leaned forward, opening his mouth and decisively latching onto Annel's shoulder.

"Ouch! Shit!"

Taken completely by surprise, Annel stumbled back, striking Tonnim's hands away. That only made the problem worse, as Tonnim seemed unable to both chew and walk at once. The zombie's feet stayed rooted to the ground, and his teeth stayed clenched in Annel's shoulder. Annel found himself struggling to stay upright, between Tonnim's weight hanging on his shoulder and the lancing pain of being bitten.

Devra was already covering Tonnim's back, using her own energy to batter at him. It seemed to have little effect compared to a living person, though. Tonnim seemed to remember his hands, beginning to paw at Annel again.

"Mother, move back," Annel said, through gritted teeth. She did, hastily floating away.

He reached up to touch Tonnim's rotting neck, and uttered a word of power. Lightning flared as an arc leapt from Annel's fingers into Tonnim's neck. The zombie spasmed, and Annel managed to pry off its teeth before shoving it away to sprawl on the floor.

Stepping away further, Annel glanced down at his shoulder. Blood was wetting his shirt, flowing freely from the twin crescents of the wound. The bite marks had gaps from Tonnim's missing teeth.

"Not a risk?" Devra asked, striving to inject a note of sarcasm into her voice.

"I suppose he's not a rabbit," muttered Annel. Tonnim groaned, scrabbling at the ground but seemingly unable to get his bearings.

"Well, what shall we do with him?"

"Stay down here and talk to him, mom. If he doesn't have... fresh meat... in sight, maybe he'll eventually be able to respond to you. In the meantime..."

Annel looked at his shoulder again.

"Filthy. I need to clean that wound. Then I need to study more about how to control my charges."

The loss of her ability to make facial expressions began to weigh on Devra.

"You mean you could have studied controlling them to begin with?"

"There's no need to grind it in, mom."

"All I'm saying is..."

"Mom!"

"Mmmhmm. Clean that wound carefully, son."

Muttering to himself, Annel walked over to his book, gingerly closing it before carrying it up the stairs in one hand.

As her son passed from sight, Devra turned her attention back to Tonnim, floating down to condense herself in front of his face.

"Now, what am I going to do with you?"

The zombie only groaned.