Chapter 8

Bad Plans and High Jinks

Every morning, before classes started, the faculty got together for their risk assessment briefing. Teaching thousands of wealthy students how to harness advanced magic in a confined space came with many risks, so everyone needed to be aware of what disaster we should expect next. Without constant oversight, Darksmith could easily be pulled into events that led to everyone’s death.

As I walked through the door, Professor Fergus caught my shoulder and dragged me over to the bar.

Finding a fully stocked bar in the staff room had seemed odd to me my first morning, until I realised that most of the professors shared the headmaster’s stress level. Students were always getting up to something, trying to use their wealth to shortcut a new skill level. On top of that, there were the numerous magical accidents, so the professors were always waiting for the next crisis.

Fergus and I ended up in line behind Professor Burdin, the head of the exorcism department. He was someone I would have preferred to keep away from today. The muscular cleric had bags under his eyes and a grim expression as he talked to the other members of his department. They were all equally tired. I’d listened to them performing an exorcism most of the night, pitting their wills against the demon that had possessed on of the cleaners.

The demon they were exorcising had implied that it knew I was here, and I didn’t want to get on the man’s radar with it still fresh in his mind. A week from now there would be another crisis that would distract him and his department, but not today.

Fergus pulled me closer while we waited. “A mutual friend told me that you were sourcing materials for creating zombies. Since, I know you don’t intend to go that route with the club, I can only assume you’re doing something interesting. I want in.”

I hadn’t run out of tasks to do yet, but I was trying to find new jobs that would keep be from succumbing to the Curse of Sloth. Crafting more complex undead zombies was a lot more tedious and time consuming than creating skeletons and it would both fill up my time and work toward my goals.

I took his hand off my shoulder. “What makes you think I’m doing something interesting?”

He gave a single dead chuckled. “Because you can’t help it, Vincent. Your an overachiever. The mundane will never interest you. Now, what are you up to?”

“I’m studying the living dead.”

He frowned. “You need cadavers for that and the headmaster has a ban on cadavers.”

“Only if you want to craft something sapient and I don’t want to do that. They take too long to train, and I don’t have the that much spare time.

Fergus shrugged. “I still want in.”

“Do you have the skill?”

“Do you?”

The line moved forward as he asked, and we stopped talking while we grabbed something to drink. Holding up the line for the bar was a taboo around here. Fergus went for a stein of barley beer, while I picked up a goblet of red wine.

My first morning, I hadn’t drunk anything, which caused many of the professors to snicker. They told me that my drinking habits would soon change. I’d overheard enough conversations to know that everyone started out sober, but no one lasted long, requiring a little buzz to get through the day, so I started drinking in my second week to keep up appearances.

The stress level for this job was too high for a normal person. Untrained sorcerers got into all sorts of trouble while they were learning advanced magic, so you had to learn to cope. For Darksmith, that meant day drinking.

We took our drinks to a pair of empty chairs at the back of the room. Darksmith had almost six hundred professors and twice as many cleaners. The cleaners didn’t have to intervene if the students did something stupid or made a mistake, so their risk assessment meetings were only held every second day. They had their own meeting room, because they needed more space, and I’d been told they had a better bar selection. They’d negotiated for it in their contracts which was a sore spot for most professors.

Fergus took a long drink. “So do you have the create living dead skill or not?”

“I don’t.”

“Then you’ll be no better at creating them than I am. So let me help?”

Fergus was the only other necromancer on staff, and he was treated like a second-class citizen, because of it. The other professors shunned him, the way they shunned me. The man was looking for a friend and I was the only person who fit the criteria. He was being painfully obvious about it too.

The vampire part of me wanted to exploit his weakness and bend him to my will. The man I’d once been, was conflicted. On the one hand, Fergus needed a friend and since he seemed nice enough, I should give him a chance. On the other hand, I was here to protect Kathrine and the longer he spent around me the more likely he was to notice something was off about me.

Also, I couldn’t give him the sort of friendship he needed. I wasn’t capable of that. But I could spend some time with him and use him to further the projects I was working on. It might make him feel a little less lonely.

“I would prefer not working with a partner,” I said.

Fergus’s face fell.

“However, would you be interested in replicating my research and comparing notes? I’m curious to see how easily it can be replicated.”

He began to smile again and took another drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and grinned. “How would this work?”

“I’ll create my project. Then I’ll create it a second time while your present and then you’ll go off and use my techniques to replicate the work, making notes for any issues you face. I’m trying to simplify the process for creating the living dead.”

Used properly the undead would be able to make the world a lot safer for my family, but I needed to work at scale, and that required being able to teach others what they needed to know, or crafting living dead who could craft undead for me.

Fergus paused. “Is this similar to the way you’re simplifying enhancing undead skeletons for the club?”

“I wouldn’t call that simplifying, more like teaching necromancers how to do it correctly.”

Fergus snorted at my reply. “You would think that.”

I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“You’ve got a wider knowledge base than anyone I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me a lich taught you everything you knew.” He nudged my arm with his elbow as he chuckled. “No one has a teaching philosophy on this subject, except you. Everyone just gets by with using separate techniques and trying to force them to work together.”

Which led to far too many abominations being created.

I drained my glass of wine and placed the glass under my seat. “Once you’ve studied enough techniques, you’ll see a pattern that makes sense. Also, most of my knowledge on the subject comes from the Bo Empire. Their necromancers have a lot more freedom and are more highly regarded than we are.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

That was where Contessa came from, so it wasn’t a lie.

“That would have been my second guess,” he said. “I would love to know how you manage to get one of them to part with their knowledge?”

“She had something I wanted. I had something she wanted. It’s honestly not that interesting.”

Fergus roared with laughter, thinking I was implying sexual favours. “Why am I not surprised. Now how old are we talking?” He leaned in closer. “Be honest. I’m not judging.”

“Ancient.”

By the time Fergus had stopped laughing, headmaster Wink was heading for the podium. The last of the professors found their seats as he placed down his notes.

Wink had his customary glass of gin in hand as he opened his notes and sighed. “Another day, another idiot trying to kill us all.” Magic projected his voice through the room. “Professor Trip would like me to remind everyone that he’s halfway through his demon summoning course with the second-year students and that you should be on the lookout for students showing the signs of succubus and incubus addiction, along with any student with rapid development in their magical talent. Also, there has been a slightly higher than usual rate of demonic possession of late, due to a weakening of the barrier between Darksmith and hell. Our running theory is that a student attempted a lesser demon summoning on their own time and accidently summoned a true demon weakening the barrier.”

There were lesser demons that came from tortured souls and then demons that had always been demons. True demon was just the local naming convention for demons.

Professor Burdin stood up. “Last night my department dealt with a rider demon that was possessing a cleaner. The demon claimed that it came here because it sensed the presence of demonic royalty within Darksmith, which is concerning. For those of you who don’t know, riders are lesser demons and not the smartest of lesser demons, but they are totally subservient to demonic royalty. So, if demonic royalty was here, even for a moment, we’ll be dealing with them for a decade. I’m inclined to think that a student has brought something a royal demon may have touched as the presence of such a powerful entity would not go unnoticed with Darksmith’s defences.”

Dalin glance at him from across the room. “An ancient vampire could walk these halls and we would be none the wiser.”

Professor Burdin scoffed back at the head of the infirmary. “An ancient vampire wouldn’t cause a rider to take notice. They might be true demons, but they sit low within demonic hierarchy.”

Dalin sighed but nodded. “It was just a thought.”

Headmaster Wink cleared his throat. “Would this object cause the weakness in the barrier, Professor Burdin?”

The cleric paused. “It’s possible if it was a summoning aid.”

“Please put together a description of such an object, so we can be on the lookout for it. Now to the main news of the day. The potions department has begun teaching the fourth years advanced potion making. Incorrectly stored advanced potions can result in all sorts of unpleasant consequences, so be ready for explosions, blizzards, and anything else you can think of. In addition, the third years began studying mind illusions yesterday. Professor Brat forgot to inform us. We’ve already had eight instances of students either caught within their own illusions or someone else’s.”

Fergus created a small sound barrier, so his voice wouldn’t carry. “Slow day it seems.”

I shrugged. “The mid-year exams are coming up and most of the faculty don’t want to distract their students with new subjects.”

Darksmith was a five-year school, but even with five years there wasn’t enough time for the students to learn everything. It took all that time just to cover every subject and push the students to a mid-advanced understanding which was 8th ranked spells. To get to the 9th rank they had to teach themselves.

It was an intense curriculum, but the students left with a broad understanding of everything they could do, and the knowledge of where their strengths and weaknesses lay. They would push for expert understanding with private tutors, so that the competition didn’t know where their true strength lay.

“You’re being too modest, Vincent,” Fergus replied. “You’ve been purging curses so quickly that our students aren’t making half the poor decisions they were making before you got here.”

“Yet, I’m still finding dozens of new curses every day.”

“Well, that’s to be expected. Evil always finds its way into the hands of the influential and Darksmith has the highest concentration of influence in Murdell.”

“It doesn’t help that both sides are funnelling cursed objects into the town so that the students pick them up.”

“That’s never been proven.”

“We’ll know in a few months. I’ve been throwing so many curses back at their makers that the number of people willing to make them is going to start dropping very soon.”

“You’re going to make powerful enemies if you keep going.”

I chuckled. “They can get in line.”

***

Two weeks later, Fergus looked around my workshop and shuddered. Progressing from crafting undead skeletons to crafting the living dead was to large a jump in skill for me to pull off, so I’d been play around with zombies for a little bit. I’d crafted sixteen zombie versions of myself, using a tissue sample, a vat of alchemy reagents, and a small herd of dead pigs. The sixteen clones lay on dissection tables or hung from meat hooks. They were all attached to monitoring equipment. Some had their entire bodies. Others didn’t. They were all animated, so their eyes followed us wherever we went.

“I’m beginning to reconsider whether or not I should help you,” Fergus said, looking rather pale. “This room is going to give me nightmares.”

“Blame the headmaster.”

“What?”

“Wink underplayed how many students were curious about my private library and failed to mention that there is a long-standing tradition at Darksmith where fifth-year students try to steal a book from it. I’ve had a break in attempt, twice a week since I arrived here. Those attempts stopped shortly after I began these experiments.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Most of the students that try to break into my library come through my workshop, so the first one to enter had a panic attack when she found a zombie version of me half dissected on that table over there. She was so upset she went to the headmaster and confessed, demanding I be let go. The headmaster talked with me about what I was doing, and found the students panic funny, so he asked me to increase the number of experiments and make this room as nightmarish as possible. The break ins have stopped for the most part.”

Fergus looked around. “I’m not sure if I should be amused or disturbed?”

“Why not both?”

He smirked, until he glanced at the one without skin, and quickly covered his mouth.

“You’ll get used to it,” I said.

“I don’t think I will. I’m looking at you half dissected on one table, another version that has your organs stretched outside your body, and one that has been cut down the middle and pulled apart. I think I’m going to throw up.”

I passed him a bucket and he emptied his stomach. It was loud, messy, and smelly until he broke down the vomit with a spell.

Fergus rose, wiped his mouth, and stared at me. “What are you trying to achieve beyond scaring the students?”

I pointed to the one that was half dissected. “Over there, I’m testing a method to improve muscle cohesion.” I pointed to the one with the organs all outside its body. “That one is for studying regeneration properties. And the last one, is a technique for using mana integrated nervous system to make a zombie move while dismembered. It’s actually the most interesting. Despite being cut in half, it has complete control over both halves.”

Curiosity replaced disgust. “It’s still in control of both halves?”

“Yes.”

He moved closer to investigate, touching the halves and casting a basic scanning spell. “This is fascinating. How does it work? No. No. How did you do it?”

“I grafted a mana thread network onto its nervous system with the enchanters table, before animating it. The mana thread can stretch far enough that the brain remains in control of the body even when pieces are separated. This is my second experiment.”

“What was the first?”

“I dismembered it and spread the limbs. The number of pieces and the distance drastically increases the mana cost for keeping it animated. It ran out of mana within the day, when it should have been able to lay there for over a year.”

“Fascinating. I mean it’s still ghastly, but it’s fascinating.”

“Thank you. I put a lot of effort into making this room terrifying and educational.”

Fergus didn’t chuckle, but he nodded. “So where is the experiment?”

“This way.

I led him to a sheet covered table at the back of the workshop. The main difference between the living dead and the undead was the need for mana. The living dead didn’t need it to survive. Their biological functions worked which allowed them to be a lot more versatile. That versatility came at the cost of strength. An undead zombie was almost always more powerful than the living dead when first created, but the living dead could level their class not just their skills, so with enough time and effort they would be stronger.

I pulled the sheet off my research project, exposing the nine-foot-tall Anubis looking creation. Its fur was entirely black with an elongated mouth and thick layers of muscle. It was humanoid with ten fingers and ten toes, but both were tipped with claws. It would never carry a weapon, because it wouldn’t be smart enough for that, but it would be able to open and close doors.

Fergus glanced at my creation and then at me. “Did you craft this from dogs?”

“Yes. Despite the change in appearance, it still thinks and behaves like a dog, so it’s pack orientated, which will make it easier to control. The enlarged brain makes it slightly smarter, but not by much.”

Fergus nodded. “Does it need to be taught to stand on two legs?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the purpose of such a creature?”

“Home security. It’s sense of smell is much stronger than a humans, so it will know if someone nearby is hiding under an invisibility spell. It can also be taught to track specific types of monsters making it easier to hunt them.”

Fergus ran his hand over its arms and legs. “It’s got a lot of muscle, but its skin isn’t much thicker than a humans. Was that intentional?”

“It was.”

“Why?”

“Temporary lack of talent. I understand how to enhance skeletons and these experiment helped me understand how to enhance muscles. Organs will be my next area of focus.”

Fergus nodded. “Alright, let’s get started.”