"Would you die for her?"

"I. . . "Kelim hesitated. "Uhm. . ."

Quaraun snapped his fingers in Kelim's face.

"Quickly, Boy! In life or death situations, you don't have time to think. If you hesitate, you love will be dead. You'll be left alive, covered in her blood. Because you hesitated. You waited. Love acts. It doesn't hesitate."

Kelim was distracted by the strong smell of Absinthe on Quaraun's breath.

The anise and licorice minty scent was overpowering. Kelim knew fragrance of Green Fairy Wine. It was outlawed. But Winsnot drank it.

A powerful drug.

That's what Fairy Wine was. Wormwood, hashish seeds, and poppy milk, steeped in mint, beet juice, and grape wine, until it fermented into a sickly toxic emerald green colour. It tasted like licorice.

Kelim looked around the room. A bottle of Fairy Wine sat on the table. Two more bottles lay on the floor. There were more empty bottles on a shelf.

"Are you going to help me?"

"Why should I?"

"Because!"

"Because?"

"Yes!"

"Is just because a reason?"

"Of course it is!"

"You are used to bullying people through life, aren't you?"

"I'm not a bully."

"No?"

"No."

"You are trying to force me to do a thing I do not want to do, for no reason other than you think you have the right to push me around. Is that not definition of a bully?"

"Will you stop going on about word definitions and get on with granting my wish!"

"Arrogant little fool aren't you?"

"I'm arrogant?"

"Yes, you are."

"Why, you, you. . . you. . ."

"I'm trying to tell you the importance of using words properly because, wishes rely on the pure power of word definitions. ACCURATE word definitions. Not slag or ignorant usages of a word. You could end up turned into a squirrel, if you say the wrong words when casting your wishing spell. Do you want to end up the rest of your life sniffing nuts and living in holes?"

"I. . . what?"

"What's in it for me?"

"What?"

"If I'm going to help you, which I might, I won't do it for free. What's in it for me?"

"I said I could pay.""

"In what? Bread? I can't live on bread alone."

"No, I got mo. . ."

"Money?"

Quaraun pulled a handful of gold coins out of his hip bag and threw them at Kelim, sending a shower of gold coins raining down around the Pixie.

"Take them. I have plenty. Money is meaningless to me. I have more than I'll ever need. I'm the Grand High Emperor of the Triple Planets. I am the wealthiest king in the known universe. I don't need your money."

"What do you want?"

"Your soul or head. Both or either."

"I. . ."

"Do you even know what love is?"

"Of course I do!"

"Do you have any idea how many horny men come to me, thinking they want love, begging for love, pleading for love, when all they really wanted was to shove their dick up her skirts? Once they are done fucking her, they'll dump her and leave her, ain't got no more use for her once they've emptied their aching balls into her. That's all they really wanted. They didn't care about love or commitment or forever. They couldn't tell the difference between love and lust. Why don't you cut off your balls and see if you still want her then. A love spell lasts forever, Boy. Be sure you ain't just lusting after the pretty little bitch, because you'll live to regret it if you didn't really love her and you went and cast a love spell to bind your soul to her."

"I. . .that's. . .uhm. . .soul. . .uhm. . .what?"

"Too much for you to wrap your mind around, Boy? You know what? I don't think you know what you want. I think you should go home, stuff your hand down your pants, relieve the tension you're feeling and see if that helps you to think more clearly tomorrow. See if you still love her, once you discover you don't need her to make your little baby factory work, you can do that all on your own, seeing how you are too good for the likes of a lowly whore."

"Do you go to whore. . ."

Quaraun glared at Kelim and the Pixie shut his mouth.

"Do you know what a eunuch is?"

"Uhmmm."

"Or do you want me to show you?"

"You don't have a. . ."

"No. I don't. My dick doesn't lead the way or control my life. So I can't have sex. I don't have sex anyone. I repress all desires."

After a moment of silence Kelim said: "I told you I'd pay."

"You think I want money?"

"Don't you?"

"I killed a dragon."

"So?"

"Dragon's have hoards of gold."

"So?"

"So, I'm very likely the wealthiest person in the galaxy, not just on this stupid little planet. I can buy anything or any one I want. Except for BoomFuzzy. He's dead. You can't buy back life. I know. I tried. I sold my soul for love and then he died and now I'm alone. What price are you willing to pay for love, Boy?"

Kelim reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin.

"But I told you I can pay you."

"You still don't get it do you? I'm not talking about money. You want to buy a love spell? Yes? Love spells are not like other magic. Most magic you use on yourself. When people come in here looking for love spells they want me to wave a magic wand over the head of their chosen one and POOF make the bitch fall madly in love with him."

"Ophelia's not a bitch!" Kelim was getting impatient and becoming offended by the Necromancer's vulgar tongue.

"Ah! We hit a nerve. You'll defend the little whore then?"

"She's not a whore!" Kelim stamped his foot, quite forgetting he was supposed to be cowering in fear at what was supposedly the most powerful wizard of all time, but the Elf both looked and talked like a prostitute and it was hard for Kelim to accept that Quaraun was anything other than insane.

"Really? Not a whore?"

"No! She's not. You are!"

"I'm a whore? And on what do you base that?"

"Look at how you're dressed!"

"My clothes? Don't judge a man by his clothes. Don't judge a book by it's cover. The most fearsome looking wizard, is always going to be the least dangerous."

"Really?"

"Yes. Someone who spends all their time trying to make you fear them, has nothing for you to fear. That's why they try to make themselves look scary. Wearing black. Decorating with skulls. They know you have no reason to fear them, so they have to look scary instead."

"So why do you wear pink?"

"I like pink Why do you wear green?"

"I'm a Pixie. We're supposed to wear green."

"Really? I'm a Moon Elf. I'm supposed to wear blue."

"How come?"

"I don't know. But somewhere along the line, some Moon Elf decided that he liked blue and he made a law decreeing all Moon Elves must wear blue."

"So why don't you wear blue?"

"I told you. I like pink."

"So you're not big on obeying laws."

"It depends on the law. I'm not big on stupid law, laws that take away freedom, or laws that punish victims and let criminals walk free."

"You don't look evil."

"Should I?"

"Well. . . you ARE a necromancer."

"Yes. I am. And people are scared of me enough, just for that fact alone. I'd rather people not be scared of me. I'm a rather social person, given the chance. But soon as anyone knows I'm a necromancer they run screaming bloody murder."

"So why bother being a necromancer?"

"Because, my lover is dead. I didn't used to be a necromancer. That was never a goal of mine. But my lover died. I sought out a way to restore his life. Turns out there has never been a successful resurrection that allowed one to have both your mind and your corporal body. You either live as a body-less wraith or shamble around as a mindless zombie. My goal is for him to have both his mind and his body, and since no one has ever done it before, I had to devote my life to experimenting on corpses until I find a way to successfully restore him. For now he's a Lich, he has his mind, but no body. I wore pink long before I became a necromancer."

"Shouldn't you look the part of your job?"

"Nothing is as it appears, Boy."

"That's not true."

"No?"

"No! How can you say that?"

"Did you pass an old woman on the way here?"

"The one that sits under the street lamp, feeding the pigeons?"

"Yes, That's the one."

"Yeah. What of her?"

"Old and grey and wrinkled, with one foot in the grave. Wouldn't you say?"

"I suppose."

"She's a whore. Did you know that?"

"A prostitute?"

"Yes. Best whore in this town. Men pay her three times what they pay the pretty, young slutty things. And you know why?"

"They like old ladies?"

"No. She has experience. She knows how to service a man beyond his wildest dreams. Don't judge a book by it's cover, Boy. I'm no whore. Pink is my favourite colour. I like glitter. Silk feels marvellous against my skin. And I've got big testicles, pants are uncomfortable. Chafe and bruise. I prefer to let my balls swing free between my legs. I'm not a whore. I just dress in a way that is comfortable for me and pleasing to my eyes."

"You're insane."

"Yes I am." Quaraun took out the wanted poster and looked at it. "Yes, apparently that's what people call me now. Quaraun the Insane. Oh dear."

"Can we stop talking about your problems and get back to my problems?"

"You mean your whore?"

"She's not a whore!"

"Really, now? And you know this, how? Because YOU haven't fucked her? She could be fucking the whole damned town and you wouldn't know would you?"

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"How dare you!" Kelim yelled. "You take that back!"

"Hmmm."

The Elf mumbled something in a squishy, slithery language, Kelim had never heard before, as he turned away and went back to the shelves at the far side of the room.

"You have a temper to you, Boy. Scared shitless of everything around you, oh, I know that feeling, scared of everything, fainting over everything. It is so hard to stay upright and awake some days. . ."

"Maybe you should lay off the Absinthe."

"Yes. . . I do drink a bit too much of it don't I?" Quaraun stared longingly at the empties bottles scattered about.

"You have a drinking problem."

"Do I? Perhaps."

"You don't think you do?"

"I didn't say, I didn't. You know, none I can find is as good as the Fairy Wine BoomFuzzy made. His was different. Had more kick. I was able to get much higher with the stuff he made. The cheap stuff they sell in taverns these days, is watered down gunk. . . . but, as you said. Enough about my problems. We have you problems to consider. . . it puzzles me, you're willing to defend a woman, whom you freely admit you do not know and cannot speak to. Fascinating. Love not lust. Ha, ha! Ready to piss your pants at the sight of an Elf in a dress, but you can be goaded. Takes love on some level to get a reaction like that, even from a coward like you."

"I want her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Tell me how you meet her."

"What? Why?"

"If you want a spell, I need to know who I'm making it for. Every spell is different, because every client is different. I could make one potion, divide it into two bottles, give one to you and one to a Wood Elf and even though the spell was identical, you'll both get different results. How you think, what you say, where you go, what you wear, what you eat, it all effects the spell. Now tell me, how you meet her?"

"Well, it was about three months ago, in the dead of winter. . ."

Kelim proceeded to tell the story:

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

"So, here's what took place :

I strode out of the bakery into the snow-carpeted lane and peered up at the sky, breathing in the crisp, cold aroma of the clean evening air, cherishing the sparkling stars, and marvelled at this rare cloudless night.

There had been snow every night for the prior week. It wasn't often that the clouds disappeared in these parts. Some days it seemed like it would snow forever, but tonight the village was a gentle, blissful winter wonderland.

I sauntered home through the cobblestone streets, delighting in the crunching sound of my boots in the crusty snow. The moon beamed down from above, a magnificent golden halo brimming its perimeter and guiding my course.

My breath billowing in white snow-like clouds around my face. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the vibrant winds. It was a blistering frosty cold night, and I had to bundle warmly and stride briskly to keep from freezing. I relished the outdoors better than the stuffy indoors, no matter how frigid it was.

I was revelling in the midnight air when suddenly a blood-curdling scream pierced the silence, sending chills down my spine. I froze in my tracks. After a moment, another scream shattered the night.

My natural instinct as a man kicked in, and I ran bravely in the direction of the women's frantic voice, my fear completely ignored.

As I ran, I could hear her laments for help grow louder, and as I turned a corner, I saw a desperate struggle taking place. I ran closer, shouting, and for a moment the scuffle stopped, revealing a man clutching a woman tightly by her throat. The stench of him was fetid. Decayed.

In his other hand, he held an object that he stuffed into his pocket too quickly for me to see what it was. The woman's eyes were wide with terror, but her air was cut off now and she couldn't make a sound any more.

I ran towards the man and bravely shouldered him out of the way, punching him in the face so hard that I forced the villain to release his grip on the poor helpless woman. The man turned and ran, disappearing into the dark.

I knelt down next to the woman, who was now sprawling helplessly in the snow. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Golden yellow hair framed a creamy face and bright blue eyes fluttered from under thick purple lashes. A Lilac Fairy. A sweet floral fragrance emanated from her hair.

I had to see her again. I found I couldn't get Ophelia off my mind. I'd been thinking about her since that night.

To my great surprise, a few days later she came to work at the same bakery where I worked, however, she acted as though she did not recognize I and I had not been able to get up the courage to tell her who I was. . ."

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

"Your natural instinct as a man? Are Pixie's men?" Was all the Necromancer said after Kelim finished retelling the night he and Ophelia met.

The Elf thought about it for a few minutes and then said:

"Either you've exaggerated the story or you have better social skills around people other then me. Considering you can't even talk to the girl, I'm guessing you exaggerated the story. Which does make it difficult for me to gauge the sort of spell I need to make for you."

"How come?"

"I'm not a mind reader, I can't guess what you need. You have to be exact and accurate."

"I am being exact and accurate."

"No, Kelim, you are not. Oh dear."

Quaraun got up and started pacing nervously around the cabin. He spied a broom standing in one corner, and took it, and began to sweep the floor as he thought about Kelim's words. After a few moments, Quaraun went outside and stood in front of the hovel, sweeping the dirt ground in the path leading to the house. Kelim stood silently watching the Elf sweep the ground, then followed him outside.

"What are you doing?" Kelim asked the old mage.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like you are sweeping the dirt."

"I am. That is exactly what I am doing."

"Why?"

"It's dirty."

"Yeah. Because it's dirt."

Quaraun didn't respond. He just continued to sweep the ground.

"I'm confused."

"About what?"

"About why you are outside sweeping the dirt."

"I'm thinking. Punding helps me think."

"Punding? What's that?"

"Doing repetitive actions to allow my body to relieve excess stress, so my mind is clear to think."

"But you are sweeping dirt off the ground."

"Yes."

"And you are filling the air with dust."

"I know."

Quaraun swept a large pile of dirt into the middle of the path, than went back into the building, and returned back outside carrying a dinner plate, and swept the dirt onto the plate. Quaraun then went back inside and walked around the building looking high and low for a place to dump the dirt.

"She has no trash can," Quaraun said at last.

"It's dirt," Kelim stated.

"So?"

"So, it's dirt. You can toss it anywhere. Just throw it out the door."

Quaraun stared blankly at Kelim, then went back to pacing in circles holding his make-shift dustpan full of dirt, looking for a place to dump it.

"Just toss it."

"On the ground?"

"Yeah. It's dirt. You just swept it up off the ground. It's dirt. Put it back on the ground where it goes."

"No, that is nature. Nature is dirty."

"But you like nature. Don't you? Don't Elves like nature?"

"Yes. I love nature. But nature is dirty. I don't like being dirty. I like being clean. And I like cleaning things."

"So you are cleaning nature?"

"Yes. I am an Elf. We are guardians of nature."

"So, you clean nature, because you are an Elf?"

"Yes."

"You're a strange Elf."

"I know that."

Quaraun went back outside and stood staring at the ground, then staring at the dirt in the plate, than staring at the ground. After a few minutes of this, he went back inside, and carefully placed the dish on one of the bookshelves at the back wall.

"Are you done?"

"I'm thinking." Quaraun shook his head and meandered aimlessly around the cabin.

The story had unnerved him. He knew Kelim was lying about what had happened.

"Well?"

"Well?"

"Are you done thinking?"

"No. I can think for hours. Days. Weeks even."

"Well, do you think you can think later and focus on me?"

"On you?" Quaraun stared at Kelim. "Why should I focus on you?"

"Are you gonna make me the spell or not?"

"What are you prepared to offer in exchange for her affection, Boy?"

"I have money. . ."

"I don't want money."

"Why not?"

"I don't require money."

"Sure you do."

"No. I don't. I don't crave money. I don't need money."

"Everyone needs money."

"I'm a wizard, with a dragon in my pocket. Boy, any time I need something, I can make it appear out of thin air. Or make the money I need to buy it with, appear out of thin air. Money is useless to me, besides I've already told you I own a dragon."

"What's owning a dragon got to do with anything?"

"Dragon's horde gold. I have a dragon's hoard of gold to go with it. Money has no real value. I'm seven hundred and fifty years old. I've seen nations rise and nations fall. Countries that were born in my youth don't even exist today. Already plundered and destroyed. They mint new coins. Currency in one nation is no good in another nation. Gold coins here. Bronze coins their. Silver coins in that country. Cowrie shells in one country. Wampum is currency just a few miles from here. Head north a short ways and whale tusks are what they use."

"So?"

"So, I'm a travelling merchant. A peddler of cloth. A wizard for hire. I travel the world. I have coins and notes and shells and bones and currency from every corner of the globe. And none of anything that has any value in one region has the same value in another region. People who pay me in China, I can't use their money in Brazil. Money is pointless. Money is useless. Paying me with money is like paying me with nothing."

Quaraun placed everything he had taken off the shelf, back on the shelf. He plopped himself back down on the throne.

It was clear that Quaraun was suddenly angry. Kelim did not know why the Elf was angry. Kelim was unaware that Quaraun was the ‘girl' whom had been attacked. Thus, Quaraun knew for a fact that Kelim was lying about meeting and rescuing Ophelia.

"What, besides money, do you have to pay me with?"

"I. . .uhm. . ."

"You do like your uhms don't you?"

"Ahhhh. . ."

"Ah is not that much different from uhm."

"What. . .how. . .how do people normally pay you?"

"I'm a Necromancer."

"I know that."

"And?"

"And?" Kelim felt confused again, like he had missed part of the conversation.

Quaraun sighed and shook his head.

"Do you even know what a Necromancer is?"

"Well, you're a wizard."

"Yes. And?"

"And what?"

"And, what does a Necromancer does?"

"Well, you do, like, magic and stuff."

"Magic and stuff, oh dear; yes."

Quaraun rested his chin on his hand, half covering his lips with his long jewel clawed gold plated, armoured finger. An index finger resting on the tip of his pointy nose. He stared off into the distance, past Kelim and out the window behind him.

"Are you telling me that you came to a Necromancer for help, without even knowing what a Necromancer is?"

"You're a wizard."

"A Necromancer is a specific type of wizard. We do specific types of things. We use specific ingredients which other mages don't use. We cast specific types of spells other mages don't touch. We require specific payment methods not required by other mages."

"So?"

"Kelim. I'm a peddler of death and souls. I kill people. I resurrect the dead. I make Zombies and Vampires and Liches. People pay me with their souls."

"So you work for free?"

"No. Kelim. I do not work for free. I work in exchange for souls and heads and corpses. I'm a Necromancer. I need these things for my work. They are hard to come by. I get them from my clients."

It always bothered Quaraun whenever he came across a potential victim, er, client, who wasn't familiar with necromancy. Evil though his practice may be, Quaraun himself wasn't evil enough to take advantage of an innocent young boy who had no clue what he was getting himself into.

Quaraun sighed again, "Tell me, Boy, what do you know about me?"

"Well, you're a Moon Elf and. . .and. . .you. . .and. . .you dress funny."

"I dress funny?"

"Well, yeah. . .look at you."

"Please don't state the obvious. What did you know about me before you came here and saw what I looked like?"

"Finderu says you killed Gibedon."

At the mention of Finderu's name, the Necromancer turned his cold eyes towards Kelim, but otherwise didn't move.

"He says your family died, murdered, and you went insane and took up necromancy to avenge their killer. He says you are a really dangerous person and to keep away from you, that you'd stab your best friend in the back for a price. Everyone in the village is terrified of you. They're even more scared of you than they are Finderu. They are more scared of you then they were of Gibedon. They say you killed Gibedon."

"You said that already."

"Did you?

"Kill Gibedon? Yes. I did. I still have his head if you'd like to see it."

"His. . .head?"

"I keep the heads of all my victims."

"Are you. . .evil?"

"Evil is a matter of perspective now isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"No one sees himself as evil. Think about it. Most of the world thought Gibedon was evil. Villagers hired many brave warriors to fight Gibedon and they all failed, didn't they? Gibedon killed every one of them. And therefor Gibedon was evil. But, how do you think Gibedon felt? He didn't go out looking for trouble, now did he? The warriors came to his house and attacked him. He only killed them in self defence. To Gibedon it was the warriors who were the evil ones."

"Why did you kill Gibedon if he wasn't evil?"

"Oh I never said he wasn't evil. Gibedon was a Necromancer, he did many terrible things."

"But why did YOU kill him?"

"He was a Necromancer, it is what I do."

"But you are a Necromancer too."

"He was competition, a former lover of BoomFuzzy's. This was once Gibedon's house, did you know that?"

Kelim shook his head.

"I was his apprentice. Did you know that in order to become a Necromancer, requires killing a Necromancer first? I absorbed his power, now I am doubly powerful. But you still have not answered my question."

"Which question was that?"

"Do you know what a Necromancer is?"

"It's an evil wizard who does black magic and works with demons and stuff in order to be more powerful that a regular normal mage type of wizard."

"Hmmmm. . . no. . . demons have nothing to do with necrom. . ." Quaraun stopped and stared at the Pixie. Pixies were stupid and trying to explain anything to them was pointless. "Close enough. I suppose a more appropriate question would be, how do you think someone would go about paying a Necromancer?"

"Uhm. . .kind of like, I don't know, you keep mentioning souls, so I suppose a selling your soul type of deal, maybe."

"Ah! So you do know something! Not totally and completely stupid. Marvellous!"

Quaraun suddenly sounded quite pleased. He leapt up from the throne and swooped back over to the shelves of odds and ends and once again began taking things down.

"You want something from me, I need something of value from you. Your soul will do nicely. But you must remember you are losing a piece of yourself. Forever. Sell your soul to the great beyond. Never to have it back. Are you willing to do that?"

Kelim backed towards to door, this suddenly felt wrong.

"Can I think about it?" Kelim asked.

Quaraun turned to look at the Pixie. "Second thoughts?"

"Well, uhm, maybe. . . maybe you were right, the whole, you know, maybe I just want to. . . and but my soul, kind of. . . uhm.. I can't get that back once I lose it, can I?"

Quaraun shook his head, and silently mouthed the word: "No."