Ribold entered the forest alone that night once he was certain everyone was asleep. He had to be close enough to make it to Todt Stadt on his own. Illuminated by the full moon, Ribold sprinted deeper and deeper into the forest of dead trees, their skeletal branches casted shadows that embraced his path like spiderwebs. Ahead were the howls of wolves and Ribold continued forward. Also ahead he saw more and more signs of death. The road was no longer the cobblestone of civilization but rather dirt with the occasional stone pillar to mark the path. Ribold slowed and approached one. It had a candle stand that appeared to have melted into a pile of wax some time ago. In the moonlight the pillar was a message framed by elaborate skeletons sitting on each side of it. Their legs outstretched and the bones of their feet intermingled and their hands struggled to reach with the message between their arms and legs reading “retro conversus et mori,” Ribold didn’t understand it but he was certain he was on the right path.

Ribold turned and walked forward again when Alfso shouted “Stop!”

Ribold froze and turned. Alfso descended from a hill behind him. Ribold nervously asked the obvious, “What… Why are you here Alfso?”

“I’m going to Todt Stadt and I think you are too.”

“Todt Stadt?” Ribold said feigning ignorance.

“The path to get there is treacherous and some say it’s not even of this world. Two more steps in front of you is a pit trap that’ll kill you. It’s how they can make new thralls. If you want to be a necromancer you have to be smarter than that. You have to think smarter than a thrall or risk getting killed and becoming one.”

Ribold’s mind raced and he wondered whether he should try to lose Alfso in the forest but Alfso had never done him wrong and for that matter Alfso was also better at foraging and tracking. Ribold’s mother took care of most of the hunting and he struggled to sneak up on anything and had never killed an animal before. If Alfso shared his goal then it made sense to team up. Maybe I’ll get to try his lamb after all? Ribold thought with his spirits renewed. “Alright. Do you know the way?”

“What? Of course not! You can’t just walk into the City of the Dead aimlessly! I followed because I thought you knew the way!”

“I have no idea. My mother just said to enter the dark forest. We should follow the coldest wind and darkest path and we’ll make it.”

“That’s not a lot to go on...” Alfso said dejectedly. He licked his finger and held it to the wind listening. “Well there’s no wind tonight. If you need to follow the wind then perhaps the city is closed? Something blocking it or maybe the entrance is somewhere else? As for darkest, everything is dark right now. Maybe we should wait until morning?”

“The pilgrims may find us.”

Alfso scoffed, “I doubt that. They’re not waltzing into the forest of the damned over an orphan and a stewmaker.”

“Maybe so but I’d rather find out what’s waiting for us now than spend the night in this creepy forest waiting for a thrall to tear us apart.”

Alfso walked closer to Ribold, “Fine but we go slow and go together. There’s many traps in the forest like this one,” Alfso said as he threw a stone that bounded off a tree and landed a pace ahead of Ribold’s. The rock dragged down a false lightweight sheet that was covered in the earth and revealed numerous sharpened spikes. Ribold spotted little notes on them with various names. These spears would kill on contact and automatically turn you into the spear owner's thrall. It was an ingenious system, but not good for lost boys in the woods.

Alfso pointed at the pit, “There if you look closely there’s wooden beams we can walk across but only one at at time.”

“You sure you’re not using me to test your theory?”

“That’s coincidental.”

“Whatever you say. Just know… If I fall I’m reaching out to drag you down with me.”

Alfso mewled, “But I don’t want to be a thrall! Thralls can’t eat anymore! Don’t be so mean! Just die by yourself and let others eat!”

“Then you better guide me right Alfso.”

Alfso squinted and thought carefully before pointing, “That one, it’s marked differently from the others. That’s the one they’ll use when they inspect the traps.”

“Ok then here goes,” Ribold said stepping onto the narrow wooden beam. A creak echoed across the trap which Ribold realized was a chasm. A moat of spikes to impale and convert intruders. There’d be no getting around it. Step by step Ribold took as the wood groaned. Ribold saw the ground at the other end of the beam and jumped off the beam to land safely in the dirt - when he heard a tear and fell through a filthy dirt covered cloth. He spun midair and caught the wood beam he’d leapt from and heard a crash below. More spikes jutted up and Ribold could hear a little metallic patter over the sound of his own frenzied breath.

Ribold struggled to hang onto the wooden beam that served as a foundation for this apparent field of pitfalls when he felt it wobble more and more violently. A hand shot down and grasped him and began pulling him up. Ribold looked up to see Alfso there straining to save him.

“I thought it couldn’t support both of us?”

“I didn’t want to take that chance but when I thought about it necromancers probably weigh more than us anyways. The master beams have to have a margin for error.” Alfso pulled Ribold to a patch of earth on the left of the beam and it turned out to be solid. “Now anyways I’m thinking this might go on for awhile.”

A loud creak echoed out and several rows of the pitfield collapsed. They heard a shuddering and a series of growling gasps. They looked below and saw dozens of people in varying states of decay, eyes alight in various colors and looking up at them.

“Oh my gosh!” Alfso said and instinctively grasped Ribold in fear.

“Get off me! What are they!”

“They’re… They’re thralls! Dozens of them! And they see us!”

“So? It looks like most are still stuck on the spears and the rest can’t seem to climb up. They don’t seem to really be armed either.”

“But if they know we’re here their masters will know we’re here!”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes! Don’t you know necromancers kill outsiders!”

“I didn’t. Besides that doesn’t make any sense. If that’s true why’d Mother tell me to come? And why’d you come with me to Todt Stadt if they’re just gonna kill us anyway?!”

“This forest is a hunting ground along their border. They can kill any outsider they please without repercussion! Once we’re in we’ll have proved ourselves and they’ll let us join… probably,” Alfso said sheepishly.

“Well then let's keep moving.” Ribold said as he stood up and a spinning sword sailed through the place he had just been sitting.

“Oh my gosh!” Alfso exclaimed in panic.

“You’re better at seeing the traps! Lead the way!” Ribold shouted.

The boys ran as the growls beneath their feet grew louder and more frenzied. They’d awakened the horde. They sprinted down various beams without much confidence if they were correct or not as some of the thralls emerged from the traps. Behind them a rotting skeleton astride an equally dead horse leapt upon the earth and began galloping with unnatural efficiency down the narrow wooden beam at them. The rider reached down and yanked a wooden beam from its post and leveled it at the boys like a jouster.

In front of the boys a thrall crawled from the traps below. Embedded in its ribcage was one of the necromantic spears. It reached behind itself and forcefully freed the spear from its own ribcage. It twirled the spear into position to throw like a javelin as the horse rode up behind them. The skeleton tossed the javelin with explosive force and Alfso shouted, “Duck!”

The boys dropped onto the beam. The makeshift javelin soared by and shattered the equestrian bones from the chest to the rear of the undead beast. Its pelvis was bifurcated and the horse and rider both fell across opposite sides of the wooden beam. The rider and its horse disappeared into a hole of cloth and billowing dust.

Alfso leapt up and began running as the skeleton in front of the boys drew a meat cleaver and swung. Ribold hurt himself dropping to avoid the spear and he hobbled across the beam crying out, “My nuts!” as Alfso ducked the cleaver and ran between the skeleton’s legs. As it turned to give chase Ribold shoved it from behind into the pit.

As more and more thralls poured out they were more and more heavily armed. Some didn’t even show signs of damage but were fully armed and armored thralls waiting to ambush any incursion into necromancer territory. Numerous of these elite thralls emerged from the ground in front of them with swords and shields from many different countries and eras. However they began to slow. Rather than form a phalanx in front of the boys they simply stood aside.

Ribold stammered out of breath “What are they… What’re they doing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they don’t see us as a threat?”

“I thought they were all murderous?”

“Maybe not all of them after all?”

“They cleared a path for us.”

“I can’t see any traps and if they wanted to kill us they could at anytime and we couldn’t do anything to stop it. Maybe we made it far enough to be proven worthy?”

“Well there’s no going back now.”

Together they walked past dozens of thralls, each pair of eyes shone the same shade of blue. Ribold remembered his mother’s many books and recognized Egyptian, Assyrian, Mesopotamian, more modern local knights, and numerous undead clergy with the same kind of equipment their comrades had when they attacked his childhood home.

Together the boys followed the dirt road deeper into the forest. As they cleared the next hill they stopped to rest.

“So. Why are you trying to become a necromancer Alfso? Shouldn’t you be a cook or something?” Ribold said bored.

“I don’t have a family anymore.” Alfso said dejectedly. “But I have a talent for necromancy that I need to control.” Alfso turned and looked Ribold in the eyes, “And you?”

“My mother is all I’ve ever known. I have no father, no siblings or friends. But one day recently the church came and took it all away.”

Alfso looked away more sad at hearing Ribold’s misfortunes than recounting his own. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

“She’s not dead, Alfso. I don’t think so. I have to find her but I can’t do anything by myself. She told me to go to Todt Stadt and that we’d see each other again. I’ll become a necromancer, a strong one that can defend my mother and if it comes to it, I’ll bring her back from the dead.” Ribold shook his head to chase away the thought and continued forcing himself to sound more upbeat, “Let’s go Alfso. We need to get to Todt Stadt. I didn’t come all this way to sleep on a dirt road near a legion of thralls.”

Alfso raised his fist excited, “That’s the spirit. To Todt Stadt! Give me a warm bed or give me death! Right?”

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“Speak for yourself. Let’s just get there.” Ribold said his upbeat tone immediately giving way to his exhaustion as he gingerly stood back up.

The boys walked until early sunrise in which the now overcast skies illuminated a haunting gray. In the distance they spotted a figure and ducked behind a fallen rotting log. Peering over they watched a man, bald with skin as white as death moving through the haunted forest with purpose.

“Did you see that?” Alfso said in a high pitched panic.

“Yeah.”

“Wha-what is it?”

“Some guy obviously. Could be a necromancer or maybe a thrall. Hard to tell from here.”

“What should we do?”

Ribold stood up and continued, “Follow him obviously. If he’s here he knows where Todt Stadt is. With any luck he can lead us there.”

“He look off to you?”

“In the forest of the dead you shouldn’t expect normal people.”

“I know but he looked weird.”

“Shut up and come on!” Ribold hissed in a quiet whisper picking up his pace.

They caught up and kept out of earshot. He wore a reddish brown vest without an undershirt and simple farmer pants and shoes. However his bare skin at first seemed to blend into the white dead trees like a natural camouflage. As he investigated closer Ribold realized that the camouflage patterns were actually horrible scars covering his body; deep and jagged across his bare skin.

“Stop!” Alfso whispered and tugged on Ribold’s sleeve.

“You scared me dammit!” Ribold hissed back. Together neither wanted to alert the man they’d followed and were somewhat surprised he hadn’t turned around and caught them.

“You see those scars? He’d gotta be a thrall! Thralls don’t need food or companionship. This could be a trap!”

“Well we know it's probably this way and he’s our best chance to make it.”

“Not if he kills us!” Alfso said, eyes wide with fear.

“Then we’ll just have to kill him! But past that trapped border I don’t think they can kill us...” Ribold pondered.

“Do you want to find out? Call him if you’re so confident.”

“I’m not that confident. I’ll just wait until-” Ribold froze.

Alfso began to tear up in terror, “Oh god... He’s behind me isn’t he...”

“No but we lost him.”

“Maybe that’s worse. Is it worse? What’ll we do?”

“Follow his steps!”

Together they raced forward but the steps came to a complete stop between some trees. There was no sign of their man. “How’d he disappear?” Alfso shrieked quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“Did he realize he was being followed?” Alfso said increasingly shrill and trembling despite trying to whisper.

Ribold no longer could stand the tension and even at the risk of getting slaughtered by a nameless thrall in the woods he snapped back no longer whispering, “I don’t know Alfso! We lost him and now there’s some thrall out on the loose and we’re no closer to finding Todt Stadt.”

In the distance a rock bounced off a tree and the two boys nearly jumped out of their skin. Looking out where they thought they saw movement was the silhouettes of many buildings. As the boys dashed forward towards their destination behind them their quarry watched, his legs split and suspended him high between two trees that the boys were quarreling under. The scarred man glared at the children as they took the bait.

***

The boys dashed through the streets of Todt Stadt. Around them were people from seemingly all walks of life. At every intersection stood skeletons in obsidian armor with poleaxes and sabers at the ready to end lawbreaking as it began. None of the people paid the boys any mind at all.

Where should I go? What should I do? I’m in the city. Now what?

“Did your mother tell you what to find in the city?” Alfso asked uncertainly.

“No. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

In front of them one of the obsidian guards stepped forward and blocked their path. Ribold and Alfso stared at it in wide eyed confusion. They weren’t certain whether this walking avatar of death was essentially just another person or if it was about to kill them.

“Can, can we help you Mr. Skellyton?” Alfso stammered.

“Interlopers must report to the campus for inspection or die,” it hissed in an echoing snarl. It’s short sword was safely sheathed but it could quickly bring death with the poleaxe at any time.

Ribold feigned confidence, “Well that’s just where we wanted to head to.”

“Don’t say head you fool!” Alfso groaned staring at the axe.

Ribold ignored him, “We could use help to find the campus.”

“Follow me interlopers. Deviation will be punished by loss of liberty, limbs, and life.”

“Show us the way then.”

“Yeah we won’t cause no trouble.” Alfso said, his voice shrill as the ebony poleaxe gleamed in the sun.

***

In his office the old man scoffed. These two had made it here without much difficulty. Todt Stadt was not without visitors but getting through the traps and navigating the difficult terrain wasn’t the easiest task. It wasn’t too hard but losses were inevitable without a guide and some knowledge of the area. Yet two boys wandered through the traps, survived the guards, and waltzed into Todt Stadt like nothing had happened. Children were born in Todt Stadt, it was exceedingly rare for any to survive the journey from the outside. The old man stood and stretched his taut aching muscles. He grasped his old door handle and shouldered the heavy door open.

“Shehla! Shehla!”

“What is it Master Vol?”

“There’s an obsidian guard approaching from the outside with two boys in tow. I know you usually send interlopers for processing but before you make any final judgments on these two I will inspect them personally. It’s not often children make it in from the outside.”

“Of course Master Vol. May I get you anything?”

“No...” the old man whispered and turned. “That’s quite alright Shehla. Quite alright.”

***

“Here.” The obsidian guard hissed. It turned on the balls of its armored boots and marched back across the black mud towards the courtyard and vanished into the street outside as one of hundreds of obsidian guards.

Ribold pushed the doors open and was greeted by a young studious woman standing by a map. She turned and gestured for them to approach.

“Where did you two come from?” she asked with a gentle but stern voice.

“Huh?” they replied.

“You came through the western region of the Schwarzwald, became lost in the woods until he- nevermind that. I was just curious where you came from.”

“I don’t know,” Ribold replied.

Alfso muttered the name of a place that Ribold had never heard of before.

Shehla placed a pin on an unmarked section of the map and turned back, “Since you’re both highly irregular the boss himself wants to see you and conduct your inspection. Follow me.”

***

Hours of questioning and signing documents passed and after a lunch of free gruel, Ribold and Alfso were to be assigned tutors. Normally a council would assign someone but the highest ranking necromancer, Master Vol, had requested the two boys personally. Ribold sat outside on a cold metal bench while Alfso and the old master consulted. After a long wait Alfso came out looking much more confident than before.

“How’d it go?” Ribold asked.

“Fantastisch! The Old Man said that necromancers of my type are extremely rare and that he’d train me himself! I’ll be tested again soon. He says I’m a natural and that most necromancers can’t do what I do!”

“That’s great Alfso!”

“Next!” the Old Man rasped. Ribold stiffened and nodded before entering. Master Vol’s office was massive. The walls were shelves of arcane tomes covered in dust. At the center of a massive mahogany desk the Old Man loomed over, his silhouette outlined by the overcast sky through the metal paned window behind him. On the desk was a black feathered quill, a jar of dark red ink, and parchments. He motioned for Ribold to sit in the chair across from him.

As Ribold sat nervously in the chair the Master Vol withdrew a file from his desk and thumbed through it. “So Ribold was it? Do you have a last name you neglected to put on the application?”

“No sir. I was told that I am a bastard and thus deserve no name in the eyes of society.”

Vol snorted, “Oh yes, illegitimacy is a common ailment of us here. But this can be an opportunity. You can make a name for yourself here.”

“I’d rather not. My mother told me not to.”

“Your mother, is she alive?”

“I think so. She told me that the church was coming to hurt her so she left and told me to come here.”

The Old Man lifted a brow, he couldn’t think of many necromancers that would make that call, “Tell me about her. Was she a necromancer herself?”

“I thought so until I got here. She’s nothing like you people. She’s prettier, and always wears nicer clothes. Why... she never even wears black.”

The Old Man stopped and turned, “Never?” It had to be her. “I want to verify something. Let me read you for a moment.”

Ribold was nervous but complied. Master Vol walked around the desk and something sharp poked the back of Ribold’s neck.

“Ow! It’s cold!” Ribold protested.

“Be still boy. By inserting a blade into the base of the cervical spine necromancers can ‘read the tag’ as it were. We can learn all there is to know about you by doing this.”

After an uncomfortably long silence Master Vol exhaled nervously, withdrawing his stiletto before returning to sit down. “You could’ve warned me.” Ribold said favoring the back of his neck. He couldn’t find any blood or sign of injury. Still he was pretty sure he’d just been stabbed relatively painless as it was.

Master Vol interlocked his fingers and stared deeply into Ribold’s eyes, with a solemn voice he explained, “You’ve got great potential Ribold. Do you have a preference in the necromantic arts?”

“A preference?” Ribold asked innocently, continuing to feel the back of his neck, while a little sore there was no blood or wound.

“Why yes. Necromancy, you see, is like a big black treebait. It has many roots and many branches. It’s not just about restoring livestock or summoning an army of bones. It’s about using your knowledge and power to circumvent Gottes Wille (God’s Will).”

“Gottes Wille?”

“You see there’s a divergence of philosophy between the Holy Romans and the Necromancer Guild. The Holy Romans claim that all suffering is Gottes Wille. The Necromancer’s cause violates Gottes Wille or so they teach. This is why we wear the black shroud of the blasphemer. Others claim it is our duty to follow our desires and maximize our potential, and only that can possibly be Gottes Wille.”

“So which is right?”

Master Voll finally smiled and perked up, “What a delightfully naive question boy! Which do you think is right?”

“Well I guess that would depend on God.” Ribold said nervously.

“I suppose so.,” Vol said as he leaned back into his seat. “As the head of the Necromancer Guild my answer must support the guild’s existence. Remember that. Everyone has an agenda. My agenda is welfare of the Necromancers under me.”

“That seems nice.”

“Why thank you! Is there anything else you would like to discuss?”

“No, but I hope my master is as friendly as you. That would be nice.”

“I’m sure he will be. Good day Master Ribold.”

“Good day Guildmaster. Ah! I mean Master Vol! I mean Guildmaster Jerome Vollrath!”

“Master Vol is fine,” the old man said and waved him away.

Jerome Vollrath watched as the boy left his office and the pale scarred man emerged from behind the bookcases.

“I must apologize Draihan. That took longer than expected.”

“Time is of no concern grandmaster.” Draihan said in a quietly intense rasp.

“Oh but it is Draihan. If only you knew just what that boy is... ”

Draihan stiffened and cracked his knuckles, “Is he a threat?”

“No, not that. Not yet exactly. I want you to teach him and keep an eye on him. If the church reached that boy first then I suspect they could destroy us. But with him on our side he could very well destroy the church,” the old man said thoughtfully, his mind racing with the possibilities. Her son, here, now. It’s not random. That damned woman planned this...

“So you’re saying a walking weapon just waltzed in here and presented itself to you?” Draihan said doubtfully.

“Perhaps.” Master Vol mused as he stroked his beard.

“Could this be some kind of ruse?” Draihan asked, visibly annoyed.

“Perhaps. But that boy is the child of a rather extraordinary man.”

“And the mother? Is she of little consequence?”

After a deliberate pause Vol sighed, “She’s the White Witch.”

Draihan was visibly taken aback, “But… We’d have known! She’s been missing for years. We don’t even know for sure she’s alive!”

“Well proof she was alive as of a week ago just walked out my door.”

“If he’s her son how can you trust anything he says?!” Draihan said, his voice rising with concern. “That monster isn’t just going after the church! She’s after you!”

“It seems he’s blissfully unaware of her true nature. I fear she may have been grooming him to be her ‘great sacrifice.’”

“That’s only a theory. The Paradox cannot be broken.”

“Historically this is true. But did you honestly believe she wouldn’t try? Evidently she didn’t cut his heart out when he was born like the legends of a ‘great sacrifice’. Whatever her purpose is for him we cannot know. I’m assigning you to be his teacher. Train him. If at all possible make him loyal to us. Though whatever happens do not allow the church to take him. At any cost. Do you understand?”

“Are you actually ordering me to ki-”

“At any cost Draihan.”

“He’s just a child. Let him do chores with the rest in the dorms.”

“Unacceptable. He’s her child. He gets special treatment. Him and his little friend Alfso. We start them early, there's no time to lose.”

Draihan bowed suppressing a frown and departed.