"Will we be heading to the school yet?" Ren asked.

"Not yet, I need to get some supplies in the city," I explained, gesturing to the shops that lined the street.

We had just left the council clerk's office. I had to keep Ren from gawking at the receptionist who may have been Los Alvar. I am not sure since I haven't met many of the breed.

"Okay, Dad." He agreed rather quickly, despite his previous excitement.

We had inquired about schools for conjury, one of the bases of Necromancy. The practice of raising the dead was illegal, but summoning demons was completely fine. I wonder how many other wizards were attending schools for the sole purpose of developing necromancy later.

We didn't need to walk far, component shops were everywhere in this city. It was a cornucopia of wizardly wares. Well, it is a city built by wizards, for wizards.

We arrived at a nondescript wooden building, the place wasn't anything special, but I spied a few of the wares as we entered the city.

The name on the plaque above the door was written in cursive. "Griselda's Wizardly Wares," I spoke aloud.

"Who's that?" My boy asked.

"Probably whoever owns the store." I shrugged in answer.

We entered and a soft chime of a bell sounded from the upper right, announcing our entrance. This alerted the woman standing behind the counter, opposite us.

She was rather tall, around my height with messy black hair and deep blue eyes. I couldn't see very well, she was wearing a thick dark robe. She noticed us immediately and smiled brightly.

"Welcome to my humble shop, please feel free to peruse." She said calmly, almost sweetly.

I smiled, I couldn't help it. She was pretty and despite all that I had done in my life, raising corpses and slaying enemies. I couldn't shake that tiny little weakness for pretty women with dazzling smiles.

"I thank you madam, but I have a list of items I require. Can you assist me?" I said as we strolled up to the counter.

"Of course, I would love to help a gentleman like yourself." She turned to Ren. "And who is this handsome boy? Oh, he takes after his father, I can see that." She added, beaming at the flustered boy.

"This is my son, Ren. And he takes after his mother mostly, but I think there is a little bit of mischief in him. That's all me." I leaned forward conspiratorially, cringing internally at that cheesy line.

"Oh, I can see that; he is going to be a little heartbreaker when he grows up."

Ren frowned the moment she said that. "I don't want to break someone's heart." He pouted.

She leaned down to get a better look at the boy. Flashing a bit of cleavage, somehow the robe seemed to dip when she did that. I wondered if that was intentional. Probably just a sales tactic; yeah, I don't need to read into that at all.

"Aren't you sweet, I can see you will make a girl so happy one day with that attitude." He blushed the moment she said that.

The only thing I could think of was the necessity to have the talk with him. That would be important, but I can push that for later, yeah later.

I handed over the list, trying to get us back on track. Did she just caress my hand as she took it? Probably just an accident.

Perusing the parchment she nodded a few times, likely doing a mental check if she had everything. Sending a few furtive glances my way I again dismissed it. She was definitely not flirting, I mean who flirts with a single dad?

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Ren was looking around the place, curious as any young boy should be. I nodded for him to go about his perusing and he practically skipped over a row of animal skulls.

"I believe I have everything on your list. Are you a conjuror perhaps?" She inquired.

"Something like that," I answered.

I was pretty sure she wasn't flirting. I mean, she might be a bit too young for me. I was totally a strong and virile man, but I was nearly sixty. From the looks of her, she was in her late thirties, maybe forties.

"Quite a dangerous profession." She leaned over playfully. "Aren't you worried a little demon might scratch your eyes out?" She gestured a clawing motion, more akin to a feline than a demon.

"Wizardry has always been a risky business." I leaned forward, only a bit. "But what's life without a little risk?"

She brushed against my arm and smiled. "That's what makes life exciting." She purred and now I was confused.

It's possible she likes older men, but that has just not been my experience. Besides, I have way too much going on to get involved in a romantic entanglement. Yes, fatherhood and necromancy require me to focus on the important things in life.

"Are you going to be my new mommy?" A certain child blurted from the side.

The both of us looked down with complete and utter incredulity. Did my son just say that? Did I not teach him the meaning of tact?

"The list?" I tried to change the subject and the flustered woman turned to me and nodded, withholding a cheeky smile.

What followed was an awkward wait, the collection of my goods, payment and a farewell laced with subtext.

"Feel free to come by anytime. You never know when you might need something." She said in a sultry voice.

I really wanted to chalk all of that up to her playing a customer. But I was starting to think she was into me. I nodded and shuffled out the door with my son trailing behind.

We met up with the carriage and entered. The driver was a human, a necessity for coming to the city. Usually, I would grab some undead and give him the reigns.

The carriage lurched and off we went to apply for a position in the most prestigious school in all of the council states. At least, according to the clerk, that was definitely paid to talk it up.

"Dad? Will I ever have a mother?" My boy asked, his gaze locked on the passers-by.

I originally thought his prior comment in the shop was just him being funny. He had learned to be mischievous from someone, definitely not me.

Taking his words seriously, I leaned forward, not sure how to answer. "Why do you ask?"

He paused for a moment, laying his chin on the window and absently scrapping the window with his finger. "I don't know, I just see all these kids with a mom and dad."

"I see." Was the best reply I could come up with. Way to go, Dad, for stellar parenting.

It was not like I hadn't considered it. I just thought it was too early; the death of his birth mother was not too long ago. And though I have healed that pain as best I could. Memories such as those are not so easily forgotten.

"It's not impossible for it to happen. It's just." I trailed off, trying to form the right words. "There is much in our lives that many would not accept. And to find a mother for you is to find a woman for me. She would have to be kind, understanding and tolerant of what we are. Sadly that is in short supply." I tried to explain.

He turned to me, with sad eyes. I hated to see that; I dare say it was a hate far greater than what I felt for Drelem. I hated that man and I hated when my son was in pain even more.

"But if you could find someone that accepted us. We could be a family?" He questioned, his lip trembling ever so slightly.

I took him in my arms and held him tight. Even with the carriage jostling around, I never let go.

"We are a family," I affirmed a certainty I desperately wanted him to have.

Yet I could see and understand that deep down he would have something missing. Something I could not provide. Something that was taken from him, callously and brutally. It left a void that a child would seek to fill without any idea how.

The love of a mother was something I had never known. I, too, was raised by a single father. My mother had died in childbirth and he blamed me for that. The drunk blamed me for many things and never let me forget it.

I never had a mother, nor did I have a father, looking back at my life. Perhaps that is why I loved him so. Why despite all that I had done, I loved my son.

It was no secret to even my own heart, the crimes and evil I had committed. And yet, I could not fathom how someone like me, so dark of spirit could ever feel this way. I could never deny the love I have for him. The need to keep him safe, to fill any void of sadness with joy and life.

I had no true father to teach me what it means. To love unconditionally, to show someone only the light parts of myself and shield them from the darkest recesses of my soul.

Is this what it means to be a father? To seek the betterment of yourself for the sake of another? To become what they believe you to be, what reality says you are not. To be a paragon without blemish or sin. That was not me, but for him, I would scrub this soul clean until my hands bled. Just as I would, without a second thought, drench it with the blood of any that would dare threaten him.

"If I find someone to bring into our family. I will do my utmost." I promised and I wasn't entirely sure I could keep it.

I trusted no one, not a single person, in this god's forsaken world. With only one exception, the smiling youth in my arms.

"Thanks, Dad." He said and it was everything to me.