I woke up to the bright noon sun bearing down on me through the laboratory's cracked window. I raised my hand to shield myself, but the hot, disgusting rays of light passed through my femur. Waking up... Dreadlord, I'd forgotten how terrible it is. Last time I woke up was decades ago, after my dear Mistress unearthed me and gave me purpose.

...Mistress!

I turn and crawl to her, reaching out to touch her hand. It's so much colder than usual. I raise her arm and let go, watching it flop back down. Much more dead than usual too.

"Mistress, if I had tear ducts still, I would weep. Even after I fought so heroically to defend you, despite the fact that you always confused me with your lover, there was little I could do." I pause, realising I can speak again. Does that mean all my other orders are void as well?

'Don't leave the tower.'

'Kill any trespassers.'

'Fold the towelettes properly.'

My head fills with dangerous and traitorous thoughts. Just because I can disobey orders doesn't mean I should, right? I take a few moments to ponder...

"I'll be right back, okay?"

In response, Mistress remains dead.

Good enough for me. I try to stand, only to feel myself off balance. Oh, and hadn't my left leg been cut off? Looking down I see that I am whole again. A dark light is curling from my chest like mist to envelop me with a cold, comforting touch. This darkness feels just like Mistress, so maybe that's what fixed me? She'd focus that light on our injuries to mend our bones when they broke. Quite interesting. But just what is this thing inside me?

[Arcane Core (Severely Damaged)]

"What the--"

I shake my head to get rid of the purple box that's full of words, but that only serves to make it float around me instead. Well, at least its not directly blocking my vision any more. What sort of magic is this? If I had a brain still, it'd definitely be starting to hurt.

I try to poke the weird box with a boney finger, but it passes right through! Truly advanced magic, it has to be. Or is it a fellow undead without corporeal form? We'd seen plenty of spirits in the graveyard next to the tower.

"Hey you!" I call out to it. "Are you a ghost?"

The box remains silent, and the mystery thickens.

Ah, perhaps it is an arcane rune! Mistress fiddled with those all the time when she was in the laboratory. Good Hells, it's been a while since I've read anything... Let's see if I remember.

[Arcane Core (Severely Damaged)] Specialisation: Wizard (Necromancer) Mana Levels: 342/500 Minions maintained: 1

Warning! The core's outer shell has been shattered. Until it is repaired, mana regeneration is impossible and mana will leak out at a steady pace.

Time until core becomes mundane: 142:56:00

Properties:

Biomass Transmutation...

Boring! Nobody told me it'd have so many huge words. I don't wanna read all of this stuff. I guess I've really lost touch with today's novel trends. The timer ticking down is cool though. I've never seen a book ever do that before... Though I guess I've never seen a spirit book before either.

I do recognize the word Necromancer though! That's what people used to scream at Mistress wherever we invaded. And I guess Arcane Core is that thing on my chest. Reaching out and touching it with a boney finger, I feel the same elation as the cold mist wraps around my hand, before vanishing. Whatever this stuff is, I can tell it’s what keeps me moving. Speaking of which, I can’t afford to dally for too long. I glance at the book that’s still lingering in my vision.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Begone, spirit! You have served your purpose!” Despite my solemn plead, the spirit remains unfazed.

“Why must you haunt me so?” I swat at it with my hand and find that it moves away, settling behind me. Perhaps it’s merely inquisitive. Either way, this will have to do.

I put some weight on my newly regenerated foot testingly, and find it lifts me up just fine. As the world turns upright, the sunlight reveals the truly sad state of the tower. Shattered bones litter the floors, pages of books have been torn, and sharp glass fragments cover every surface. Downstairs, the situation proves even worse. What once served as the gate is now fused with the far wall, after the paladin blasted it open.

“The mannerless brute,” I mumble. Standing at the entrance, I gaze out at the road leading uphill that he rode on. “For my brothers and sisters, my Mistress, and the tower’s doors, I will have my vengeance.” I take a moment to reassess, surprised at myself. Is this what fury feels like? It’s warm and it burns in my chest and I don’t like it. I understand now, why Mistress was kind enough to make me devoid of most emotions.

Once more, I glance around. If I’m to do this, I’m gonna need a weapon. Alas, the only thing I can spot that could act like one is Skeleton Three’s severed humerus. It has the rest of his hand attached, but the cracked bone on the other end is sharp. Armed for combat and ready, I set down onto the road that leads to the village to exact my vengeance. As I expected, none of Mistress’ past orders stop me. It feels so strange and unnatural to venture out all alone, without her. But I have a mission of my own now.

It’s easy to spot the village’s first farmhouse in the daylight. For some reason, the pigs seem scared of me as I approach, huddling together in the opposite end of their enclosure. “Worry not, piggies. I don’t need to eat.” That doesn’t seem to stop the squealing. Damned language barrier. I walk up to the door and knock twice. Contrary to some, I know how to be cordial.

It swings open, and I have to lower my head to see the little girl standing inside. Disgusting rosy cheeks, sickening blonde hair and white skin. She reeks of life, and for once I am glad I don’t have facial muscles. I’m not sure I’d be able to hide my aversion to her. "Bone Jour, child."

“You’re not my daddy!” She says curiously.

“Indeed.” I take a moment to look around the home. It looks rather poor, with but a few cooking utensils and a pot held over a fire. I try not to be distracted by the weird rituals of the living. “Do you know where Wilmot Dawnwalker might be located? He and I have a score to settle.”

“Uhm…” She thinks for a while, then shakes her head and retreats a bit further away. “I don’t know that person.”

“Very well. Can you at least escort me to the humans who created you? Perhaps they have some information I could use.”

She tilts her head again, as if trying to understand. “Only my big sister is here, but she’s sick so she can’t speak.”

“Your big sister made you?” Things have really changed from the time I was alive it seems. For a moment, I contemplate asking about this complicated incestious relationship, but I refrain. I have a grander goal after all. “That will do. Lead the way.”

“Anne!” A voice yells from behind me. I turn to see a woman rushing by me, grabbing the little girl and pulling her away.

A burly man stands at the entrance, pointing a rake at me. “What do you want, monster? We already paid our tribute to the witch, so leave us the fuck alone!”

“You copulate with your daughter and call me a monster?” I stand my ground unfazed. Rakes are inefficient weapons against skeletons, I’ve found.

“I did what now?” The man yells in a mix of rage and confusion. “So killing us is not enough now, eh? She wants to mock us as well.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with being dead!” Living humans seem rather rude, barging into people’s towers and swinging weapons around. “Look, I just want some information and then I’ll leave.” I make a show of lowering my makeshift arm-ament slightly, and the man does the same.

“Mommy,” I hear the little girl speaking behind me. “Who created me?”

“Not now sweety.” The woman pulls her to another room with a worried tone. “Let’s go check on your sister, yes?”

I’m left alone with the man, who is now looking at me all weird. I cover my pelvic bones with my hand subtly, just in case he’s into more than incest.

“You’re different from the rest,” he says.

“Sir, I’ll have to stop you right there. Making me feel special is not enough to seduce me.” I clench my jaw and prepare myself. “But if this is the price I have to pay for the information I seek, so be it.”

“What? No!” I see him shake his head. “So you’ll leave if I answer your questions?”

“Correct, and it’s only one question. I am looking for Wilmot Dawnwalker. Do you happen to know where he is?”

“Wilmot Dawnwalker?” The man raises an eyebrow. “He’s the ascendant hero of the realm and champion of the Gods above. How is a farmhand like me supposed to know which part of the land he roams?”

“Ah, so he travels around!” That would make him quite difficult to track, but it was a start. I lower my head in a soft bow. “As promised, I will not intrude any longer. Thank you, pervert.”

“I’m not a damn pervert!” I can see them man growing a bit red at the face, but stepping aside for me to pass.

“There is no shame in it.” I tell him as I walk out, only for him to slam the door shut behind me. Talk about being ungrateful. “Well, at least I have a lead now.” I look up the hill, and the menacing shadow of the tower calls to me.

There is much to do before I can leave.