Ribold awaited his fated meeting with his master. What kind of master might I have? Will he be kind or strict? All he did know was that his master was male. Too bad it won’t be a pretty lady like Shehla. Crossing the courtyard was the scarred ghoul of a man with flesh as pale as milk. His head was bald and had jagged scars deep in his flesh. He wore only a short sleeve red vest and tan trousers. He looked like he’d been flogged from head to toe. Ribold was frightened as the man approached him. Don’t tell me… The thrall from the forest?! he thought silently.
“You Ribold?” The man rasped.
“Yes! Yes, sir.”
“I am Draihan Aus. I will be your master.”
“Yes Master Aus!”
“Tell me about yourself Ribold.”
The boy shifted nervously and looked down, “I don’t know...”
Draihan looked at him as if he was stupid, “You don’t know? Are you stupid?”
“No! I’m not stupid.”
“You already forgot who you’re addressing so we can establish you are forgetful.”
“I...”
“So tell me what am I looking at when I see you?”
“Uh...”
“Are you a person? A boy or a girl? Age? Do you have a favorite color? How would your tibia taste if I ate it?”
“WHAT?!”
“Damnit, you’re slow too...”
Ribold was flustered and rapidly getting mad, “I’m a boy! I like white and silver!”
Draihan rolled his eyes. “What skills do you possess?”
“I can carve.”
“Any necromantic skills?”
“What are those?”
“Ever kill your neighbor’s dog just to see if you could bring it back?”
“We lived alone in the woods!”
“I’m jealous. It sounds peaceful. Which your life will no longer be. Get ready because I’m going to work you until you bleed. I’ll have you either resurrecting sheep by the end of the week or I’ll toss you out on your ass. Now follow me.”
***
Draihan took Ribold across winding streets of the necromancer capital of Todt Stadt. Ribold had learned that the city of Todt Stadt was hidden within the twilight of Schwarzwald, the infamous haunted forest he and Alfso had barely survived. It was within that forest that the forces of the Unseen God were defeated in the greatest war the Holy Romans had ever fought. The forest was filled with so much death necromancers could always find some remnant of the warriors that died there to practice their arcane arts on and rally for defense.
They continued on past a bakery that had muffins impaled on sticks to resemble mushrooms. Piltz muffins were a delicacy and they often had grape or chocolate filling. The really expensive ones were impaled on an edible cracker that took great skill to ensure that neither broke apart upon insertion. The youngest children of Todt Stadt often visited the apprentices and fought over who could eat their failures. Draihan sensed Ribold slowing to stare at the piltz practically drooling, “You want to try them don’t you?”
“Yes Master!”
“Such a simple boy. I will buy one, after you complete your lessons.”
“Thank you master!”
“For what? The privilege of watching me eat one? Don’t be so entitled.” After seeing the look of shock on the boy’s face Draihan sighed, I’m really not cut out for this kind of shit. Ribold’s eyes were watery. Draihan explained with a scowl, “Sweets are bad for the body. But I’ll consider permitting you to sin and try only a small part of piltz should you excel.” Ribold immediately shifted back to that naive earnest look that sickened Draihan.
They passed by an abattoir filled with the roar of machinery and the death squeals of livestock inside. Graveyards and memorials were on nearly every block. The library was a massive black marble complex with seven floors and was three city blocks wide. The once magnificent building looked abandoned, the water stains on the majestic columns seemed to only add to the gloom of the place. Black robed figures bustled about in and out of the building like ants from carrion. Across the street at each corner surrounding the library stood stands and shops selling concoctions that stimulated the mind and kept scholars awake. Draihan and Ribold continued into the residential district and off into the farmlands in the horizon.
***
“Stop” Draihan rasped.
“But there’s nothing here...” Ribold replied.
“Open your eyes this place is crowded.”
“All I see is a barn and some chickens.”
“And the earth infested with grass, which is infested with insects, and in the distance is the realm of man which is infested by faith.”
“So what are we doing here? It’s just an empty farm.”
“You’re going to practice on chickens. Now go kill one.”
“I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Do it however you want… You want to bash their brains out? It’s a good way to practice bone manipulation. How about strangling one?”
“I uh...”
Draihan sighed and gently lifted up a rooster onto his lap petting it. It was completely calm in this ghoul of a man’s arms. Drahain grasped its throat and as it started to crow Draihan clamped down and twisted. The sound of its neck breaking mid crow was quieter than Ribold imagined, and sickening.
“Now you.” Draihan nodded towards some of the other chickens, now starting to get agitated as they sensed the danger.
“I don’t want to hurt the chickens.”
Draihan just stared blankly at Ribold for a solid minute before asking, “You do realize what line of work you’re in for now right?”
“Necromancy?”
“And what is necromancy to you little boy?” Draihan rasped sardonically.
“Uh, playing with dead things?”
“Okay then? Where do dead things come from?”
“Um, tombs?”
Draihan shook his head with frustration but technically Ribold wasn’t wrong so he pushed farther, “And where do the dead people in the tomb come from?”
“It depends on when the tomb was built.”
Draihan lost his patience, “No! Dead people come from living people! If they didn’t die then they aren’t dead! The purpose of this exercise is for you to understand life and death. There may come a time when you must kill actual living people for any number of reasons, good, evil, whatever. So I’ll have you start by learning to slaughter livestock. This is useful for two reasons. One you need dead bodies to practice. Two you can always eat if you fail.”
“I understand Master Aus...” Ribold says meekly.
“So kill one!”
Draihan leaned against a shed with his arms crossed as he watched this timid boy run around chasing chickens. The boy eventually managed to jump on a tired hen and Draihan watched as he flailed around and feathers flew. After a minute Draihan walked up to check Ribold’s progress.
“Is it dead?”
“I think so...” Ribold said his voice muffled and cracking. His body was positioned over the chicken and he was crying face down in the dirt.
“Give it to me.” Draihan ordered brusquely. Ribold rolled off of his prey and when he saw the crushed bird he started sobbing. “It’s too late to feel guilty now boy. Now give it to me.” Ribold’s hand trembled and he took the still warm bird in his arms and gave it to Draihan. “You want to eat this one or do you want to raise it from the dead?”
“Can, can, can I really bring it back?”
“Well that depends on you. Watch closely.” Draihan took the rooster he killed cleanly and touched the back of it’s broken neck. A soft violet light flickered and the bird stood up, Ribold heard the same muted wet crack as before and the bird began walking around pecking at the ground looking for food.
“I thought thralls and zombies don’t eat,” Ribold said as he watched the chicken rip a worm from the dirt and devour it.
“I brought it back as it was. An animal's only purpose is to feed and mate until it dies and feeds something else. If you bring one back in good condition it will continue where it left off.”
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“It doesn’t seem to be afraid of you. Even though you know, you killed it.” Ribold said, still visibly disgusted.
“That is because I don’t reveal my intentions. I possess no malice. I wasn’t desperate to eat it, I wasn’t nervous to kill it, nor did I at any point enjoy the act of killing it. It’s death was so sudden I doubt it noticed it any more than you notice the breeze in your hair. Therefore it returned to normal. It’s not afraid of me because from it’s perspective I did it no harm.”
“So it can still eat?”
“No, the resurrection wasn’t that perfect. If I leave it as it is it’ll fill its belly with food but it won’t digest it. It’ll eat until it gets fat and bursts. Therefore I’ll dispel it soon and it’ll be merely ash on the wind tonight.”
“So you want me to do the same?”
“Give it a try. Note the energies and feelings you sensed as I brought back mine. Then try to emulate them.”
Ribold put his hand on the mangled animal and tried to emulate the posture and expressions of Draihan, but simply looked like he was awkwardly scowling. A spark of light and the mangled animal began to shake, before standing up on one good leg and a broken leg. The feeble creature was reanimated but none of the damage done had healed.
“Not bad for your first try.”
“Uh, but it’s all wrong.”
“How so?”
“It’s body is broken and it can barely move… Can it... feel pain?”
“At your skill level I doubt it. You couldn’t even fix its bones and nerves are far more delicate to restore.”
“Well it’s not walking correctly, it can’t feel pain but it seems neither is it thinking like a chicken. It’s just kinda wandering with a broken body.”
“So what did you do wrong?”
“I didn’t kill it properly?”
“And because of that it died suffering. And now you can’t even restore it properly.”
“Can I release it now?”
“No. Keep it as your familiar for a while. Remember the sadness and shame you feel as you look at it. And next time do it better.”
“Yes Master Aus...”
“Come boy we’re going home.”
***
Ribold followed Draihan passed one of their farms on the way home when a sword landed with a metallic ping in the mud next to Ribold.
“Holy Hell! That almost hit me!” Ribold shouted.
“Oh yeah I guess since you’re new you didn’t see that coming.”
“And you did?”
“Of course. Training areas are extremely dangerous. Second only to being hunted by the Church itself.”
“But you seemed so relaxed.”
“I’m always on my guard boy.” Draihan said completely deadpan.
“Where’d it come from?”
Draihan sighed and pointed to a barn. The door exploded as Alfso was sent flying by something inside. Guildmaster Vol walked out flanked by half a dozen skeletons in disheveled armor. Ribold could hear Vol, “What’s wrong? Why are you running?”
Alfso looked hurt and he gasped, “You’re too strong!”
“Do you think the church will simply forgive a chimera user because he’s weaker?”
Alfso struggled to his feet, “No. But I can’t even summon a Chimera! How do you expect me to fight 6 skeletons when I can’t summon-”
Alfso was sent sprawling mid sentence by a skeleton that bashed his face with its shield. Ribold snarled and left Draihan.
“Hey! Stop bullying him!”
“Oh another one interferes... ” Vol said thoughtfully.
“You’re the guildmaster aren’t you! Why are you beating up on a defenseless kid?!”
“If you think the church would be more merciful than by all means join them.”
“I don’t care who you are, I won’t allow you to just beat on a defenseless kid!”
“Fine then. I’ll beat on two defenseless kids,” the guildmaster replied, snapping his fingers and all 6 skeletons attacked. Ribold was out of options and threw an amateurish punch at the first one. His fist exploded with pain as it connected with a skeleton and broke its skull.
Something’s wrong here, Ribold thought, It should be a lot harder than this.
The next skeleton swung on him and nearly knocked him out.
“Don’t lower your guard boy! Imagine for a moment you’re facing down a damned Cardinal!” Vol shouted with amusement before looking to Alfso, “Are you just gonna stand there and let your friend get himself killed! I told you what to do. You’re the one who must do it!”
Alfso lowered his eyes in embarrassment, and a wooden box rose from the dirt as one skeleton held Ribold and the others took turns pummeling him. Draihan had wandered over to watch. The wooden box opened to reveal something bizarre. It looked like an undead pony, but it’s head was all wrong. It’s head was some kind of lizard that roared an unholy scream.
Ribold’s vision blurred and he saw a monster in front of him bite the skull of one skeleton and crush it like an eggshell in its jaws. It trampled another before kicking a third imploding it’s ribcage and sending it flying at the guildmaster. The guildmaster raised his hand and caught the skeletal remains effortlessly and dropped them at his feet as if they had no mass. The creature tore the head off the next, bit the fifth and threw it airborne before running down the last and began eating its bones.
Guildmaster smiled, “Good, good, Alfso! You’re exactly the kind of acolyte we need! A truly rare skill and at such a young age! In your first time you managed to summon a chimera tough enough to defeat skeletons of mine!”
“Don’t lie!” Robold shouted, “They weren’t especially tough, you were just toying
with us!”
Alfso looked disappointed and the guildmaster replied, “For him it induced life or death pressure that he needed to use his chimera. Besides if I actually wanted to kill you I could just ask Draihan and you’d both be dead in seconds.”
Draihan leapt the fence, “Killing kids is something I’d rather avoid but, I owe the guildmaster my life. So, if he asked I’d snap your necks like that chicken earlier...”
Ribold and Alfso together looked at him in terror.
“Oh Draihan? How’d it go?”Master Vol asked.
Draihan shrugged and pointed to a mangled chicken lopsidedly following them in the distance before it flopped into the mud again. The old man laughed, “Well! At least he did it! Failure is the mark of learning!”
Ribold was still angry. “If that’s so how come you tried to kill us?”
The guildmaster looked down at him, “I don’t try to kill people boy. I don’t like killing at all. But, when it’s time I don’t try my boy, I succeed.”
A wave of terror left Ribold trembling. Looking into the old man’s eyes was like staring into the void. Deep beneath his friendly exterior the old man possessed a darkness Ribold could sense but not comprehend. Looking into the guildmaster's eyes in that moment was like a child looking at a treasury in a currency he didn’t know. Vast sums of the unknowable.
Meanwhile the old man smiled, “Well I think that’s all for today. Who wants piltz?” Alfso’s hand shot up “I do!” and his monster chimera looked at him quizzically before trying to emulate it’s master by raising a hoof and pawing at the air.
***
Test
An unholy groan echoed through Ribold’s tiny room. He jumped awakened by the painful shrill metallic whine of the hinges. As he looked up into the blinding light there was only disfigurement to greet him.
“Come with me boy, we’ve got work to do.” Draihan rasped.
Ribold sat on his bed feet on the cold floor trying to wake up. He’d overslept again because he had a habit of hanging his black robes over the small barred window that sparingly provided the only light from the outside world. Inside was a dusty little dungeon with a desk for study, a chamberpot, and a very old mattress. Draihan scowled and took two steps into the room and tore off Ribold’s cloak from the window. Ribold shrieked as the bright noon light struck his eyes like holy flames upon the undead.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“But it’s a Sunday!”
“I don’t care if its your birthday on a Sunday. We’re leaving the city.”
“To go where?”
“There’s much for you to learn boy.”
“On a Sunday?!”
“We’re necromancers boy. We’re not obligated to honor the Sabbath.”
“Where are we going?”
“Out.”
“What are we doing?”
“Working.” Draihan sighed and a small box emerged from the ground. It’s sides popped open and poured spiders into the room. Ribold jumped atop his bed and Draihan tossed him his robe. “Some are poisonous boy. I’ll open another box each time you dawdle.”
In seconds Ribold was out the door and his skin crawled the rest of the day. He followed Draihan silently through the streets of Todt Stadt stopping only for a day’s supplies and then continuing into the forest. It was only then Ribold noticed that Draihan had another box made of metal.
“What’s in there? Dragon eggs and maggots?”
“Tools.”
“Tools?”
“Yes. We’re here.”
Ribold looked up from the toolbox and saw a structure in the trees. They continued along the path revealing numerous stumps covered in fungus. Ribold heard the rhythmic sounds of sawing inside.
“Why’d you bring me to a sawmill?”
“To construct your coffin.”
“What?!”
“If you don’t do as you're told I’ll make sure you sleep forever within it.”
“But I...”
“Enough! The man here is a good friend of mine. You will work for him and,” Draihan rattled the toolbox, “build your coffin. Fail and I’ll build it for you and bury you alive.”
“You’re such a nice guy Master Aus.” Ribold said sarcastically. Draihan slowly raised a fist, stared at it a moment, and consciously lowered it as a bearded man walked out.
“Draihan! You son of a bitch! What brings you round these parts?”
“Oh no, it's a country man.” Ribold thought aloud.
Draihan ignored him and walked by and shook his hand. Draihan’s usual morbid rasp sounded… cheerful. “You look well Müller.” Ribold could see Draihan was smiling. This cadaverous monster with a personality as prickly as a bramble bush was being friendly with another human being. “I bring you an apprentice who needs his coffin and some honest work.”
Müller replied “Ah! I see. Well get yer tools and go on in youngun! But before that I’m Müller! Nice tah meetcha!” Müller held out a gloved hand and Ribold reluctantly reached for it. Müller clamped down through the thick glove with the strength of a vice, the glove felt like sandpaper and under this pressure burned his skin leaving a mark. Ribold cried out in pain and tried to jump back and the bearded man revealed a smile of rotten teeth that smelled like death, “You’re softer’n my lady but,” Müller said menacingly, “it may not be too late for you. We’ll make certain you’ve got a beautiful coffin. Hell I’ll make sure it’s a masterwork! We’ll toughen you up so much boa that this here glove will be gettin burned by your hands soon enough!” As Müller released Ribold’s hands now red with chafing, Draihan tossed Ribold the metal toolbox which he caught clumsily.
“Alright Müller. Give the kid a week. If he shows no promise you can run him under the saw and feed him to the pigs!”
“Alrighty will do!” Müller said excitedly. “Okay boy you got a week before yer killed and you may get a stay execution if you do well! Get on in there and I’ll be right with you.” Müller then added menacingly, “After I feed the pigs with yer predecessor...” Ribold adjusted his grip and ran inside carrying the toolbox. His mind was racing and he could see Müller lift a bucket of bloody gore and toss it into some pig pens outside. As he heard the squeals of a feeding frenzy he quickly opened his toolbox. Inside was the best news he’d seen all day. Each tool was brand new, the hammer, the saw, the axe, a few bags of nails. Also inside was a single piltz that Draihan must have bought for him that morning. Underneath the piltz was a worn out rag with a note crudely written in charcoal. “DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME.”