“No.”

The necromancer was absolutely dumbfounded, but managed to slip the word out somehow.

The bear-fur woman scowled and looked at Sou Yuet. “Is man, yes?”

“They're not-”

“Looks like woman. But is man.” She sneered down at the small monk.

The necromancer pulled Sou Yuet behind him, barely containing his anger. His tattoos began to writhe.

The bear-fur woman stepped back warily. “You have skill. I am village chief. Good for you.”

The sound of the necromancer's sanity snapping was practically audible. He loosened his belt to let his robes slip, showing a flash of chest that was suddenly more curved than before...

“And what if I'm a woman?” she said, glaring down at the village chief, whose expression had turned from somewhat eager expectation to guarded confusion.

“Aufhocker?” the chief muttered, her hand curled around the hilt of the large knife at her side.

“A what? What's a...” The necromancer turned back to the dead boy in the grave. “A shapeshifter? No I- No, I don't ride on people's backs! Hey, what's with that tone of voice? Ye've got serious issues, kid. Anyway, I'm not one of these aufhocker things.”

“... Ansuz?” The village chief's voice was tentative, tiny like a child meeting a tall shadow in the night. The necromancer looked at her for a long moment in complete silence.

“Now that's a word I haven't heard in a long time.”

“Ansuz... Ansuz...” The villagers crouched down in the snow, despite the cold, their eyes fervent. The necromancer felt her skin crawl.

With a little smile, Sou Yuet peeked out from behind the necromancer's arm. There was a flash of green in their eyes, and every tree surrounding the clearing groaned and creaked, their branches reaching slowly inwards.

With cries of alarm, the villagers huddled close. The village chief's eyes widened as they turned first to the approaching trees, then to the smiling Sou Yuet.

The monk slipped out from behind the necromancer, winding her arm around their shoulders as they did.

“So about that fur...”

----------------------------------------

The next few days of travel were relatively comfortable, Sou Yuet generally riding Sunny to stay warm, with the necromancer wearing the fur. When the witch insisted that the monk wear the fur, Sou Yuet would put the cloak on, but immediately jump onto the necromancer's back like some kind of fluffy turtle shell.

“So you were the aufhocker all along.”

“What is that?”

“Some kind of shape-shifting creature. Pretty nasty things, it sounds like. They hang out on people's backs until they die of exhaustion.”

“So you're saying I'm a nasty creature who's going to make you die of exhaustion?”

“... yes, ye irritating bastard.”

“Should I get off then?”

“And have me freeze to death?”

It wasn't as if the necromancer was entirely against carrying the monk, anyway.

“What's an Ansuz?”

“... A god.”

“Are you?”

“Shut it.”

“You didn't deny it.”

“Want me to smite ye?”

“What does that involve?”

“Feck around long enough and ye'll find out.”

“I'll do my best.”

After the encounter with the dead Bertcoaz and his aunt, the village chief, it was decided that contact with the local people would be limited. Sou Yuet was a little disappointed that they would not be able to learn about the local plants, but none of them wanted to risk a repeat performance of that confrontation with the villagers.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Westwards through the snow, occasionally drifting through the crystalline air on Sou Yuet's ginseng leaf at night, the necromancer fiddled with the slivers of yew at her ears and stared unseeingly into the darkness.

“Pang Yau?”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“It's been half a year, right?”

“... You're right. It has.”

“Feels like longer. And shorter.”

“You're right.”

“Maybe this...”

“Hm?”

“Maybe we shouldn't have come this far.”

“Why so?”

“I know ye could have stayed in the Four Kingdoms doing yer investigations there. Yer Master probably knows lots of people... and whoever ordered this investigation has to have others looking too... They could have got others to look over here.”

“I wanted to come here.”

“Only because I said I wanted to. Don't make excuses, monk, I ain't that dumb. I know ye ain't sleeping properly. Are ye having nightmares?”

“Not at all. Si fu said I needed to travel and learn about the world, and he was right.”

“So ye are having nightmares.”

“If I am, I don't remember them.”

“Can't ye make some kind of potion to sleep better?”

“I could, but then I wouldn't wake very easily if I needed to.”

“That's alright, I can keep an eye out.”

“Thanks, but-”

“Right, this isn't a request. I'm telling ye to get some proper sleep.”

Sou Yuet's always present smile was gone. There seemed to be more green in the monk's eyes than ever before.

“Why are ye being like this?”

“Why are you?”

“Look at ye! Ye got a bit better when ye levelled up or whatever, but ye're back to being pale and yer eyes have got dark rings round them. Yer smile's more annoying that usual. Ye twitch and mumble in yer sleep.”

“Oh, sorry, that must be keeping you awake too.”

With a growl of frustration, the necromancer grabbed the collar of Sou Yuet's robes and shook the monk. “For feck's sake, look after yerself a bit more, would ye!”

“I'm fine, Pang Yau.”

They were floating in the air over a winding river, travelling somewhere south of the Jade Road. The terrain below was rocky and steep, hard and narrow-leaved trees forming a dense, unending thicket in all directions.

“Is that so?”

“... What do you mean?”

“What if I did the same thing?”

“What same thing?”

“Let myself get hurt, then say that I'm fine.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Why would you?”

“What are you doing?”

“Well, why would ye?”

“It... It doesn't matter. Pang Yau, come back from the edge-” Sou Yuet's fingers were digging into their own robes, and likely the flesh of their arm underneath.

“Doesn't matter, huh?” The necromancer sighed, then shuffled back from the edge of the leaf she had been slowly creeping towards. “Why doesn't it matter, Ah Yuet? What can I say to make it matter?” She glowered at the monk. “Would jumping off this leaf right now change yer mind?”

“Don't-”

“No, I don't think it would. Ye'd just blame yerself even more.” She turned her back. “Will ye at least get some sleep? Let's land and find some shelter.”

Wordlessly, Sou Yuet did as she said, bringing the leaf low until they spotted a cave in a mountainside, too inaccessible for anything other than those who could travel by air. Sou Yuet fell asleep tucker up against Sunny, who had grown an even thicker winter coat, while the necromancer sat near the cave entrance, rugged up in the bear coat.

It wasn't long before the monk began to twitch and murmur in their sleep; Sunny shifted restlessly, lifting her huge head sleepily to snuffle at Sou Yuet.

“Good girl.” The necromancer scratched behind the si zi's small ears. She crouched by the monk uncertainly, but set her mouth in a resolute line. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she called, “Ah Yuet?”

“Hmm... Hm? Muh...”

“Can ye give me something?”

“Pang... Yau...?”

“Whist... Whist... It's okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Hm...”

The necromancer lowered her voice even more until she could barely hear it herself. “It's okay. It's okay. Ah Yuet... can ye give me that dream ye're having?”

“Hm...?”

“I'd really like it if ye did. Please?”

“G...ive?”

“Whist... Yes. Yes please.”

“Mm... Ho... kay...”

The necromancer's hands were cold. If she placed them on the monk now, she was sure to wake them up. Things were already risky enough.

Without thinking too hard, she bent over the monk and gently kissed their forehead.

The given nightmare flowed from Sou Yuet and into the necromancer's consciousness.

She saw a confusion of images – a man's retreating back that kept getting further and further away, no matter how fast she ran... an empty bowl... large hands pulling a scrawny puppy from her own small ones – but the unyielding, undying, unliving part of her devoured the nightmare alive and claimed it as her own. Another black swirl seared her forehead painfully, finally settling as a dark, raised scar.

Sou Yuet slept peacefully.

The necromancer lay flat on the ground, cold sweat beading at her temples. She raised her hands above her to look at them. “Is this your doing, ye shitestain of a fox?” she hissed, clenching her fists.

Why did the retreating man in the nightmare look like the necromancer's masculine form? Why did those hands that took the puppy away look like the necromancer's hands? Why was the viewpoint of the dream so low, like that of a child?

Would it be better to go back and find the wu lei dzing and beat the life out of him? Or keep going, ignoring the bastard? They hadn't seen him in a while, after all. Perhaps he'd lost interest.

The necromancer sat up abruptly. If Lí had lost interest in the two people currently searching for evidence of his crimes, it could mean a few things. Perhaps he had been caught. Perhaps something else seemed more important to him. Perhaps he was planning something.

The witch hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't the last option. The lack of action on the fox's part made her agitated.

Her lips burned.

Her brain having shut down, unable to work out what Lí might be up to, it wandered right back into the cave to where the monk slept, their breathing even. The necromancer watched the rise and fall of Sou Yuet's ribs, the way their face was half-buried in Sunny's fur.

Winter would be over soon. Hopefully. The trees and birds were slowly becoming familiar, and the words spoken by the people of the land were becoming a little more recognisable, words that the necromancer had heard travellers from over the sea speak, when the witch had been a child in Iriu.

What would she find when she went back? Would her mother be there? Would those damned mages from the Aiteann Court see them and decide Ah Yuet wasn't fit to be supervising a criminal, and separate them?

Sou Yuet swallowed and shifted a little in their sleep.

The necromancer chewed on her lips, scrubbing her face with her bare hands, her throat tight and heart barely daring to beat.

“Feck.”