”For someone who likes to annoy people as much as you do, you sure escalate to violence quickly when someone tries to mess with you.” Gilbert pointed out as they were on their way back from the goblin settlement.
“There’s a very specific group of people who would benefit from getting stabbed once or twice. I was just trying to help him in the long run.” Anastacia explained. “Fix his personality a bit.”
“That’s very true.” Gilbert laughed. “Hey, I’ve been thinking, how does one become a necromancer anyway? I know you were born as one, but can it be done with training or something?”
“I’m not really sure. As far as I know, you can only be born as one.” Anastacia shrugged. “They didn’t teach me how it really works, I just got fed the bullshit fairytale version of how necromancers came to be. The basic gist of it is that new lines of necromancers are born when there is too much life in the world and death needs some help, so it grants a child the ‘gift’ of necromancy. Then that person would have more necromancer kids and so on.”
“Huh. So you’re meant to just kill others?” Gilbert said and looked like he was deep in thought. “How come Mournvalley wasn’t acting on it? I mean they kill most of the folk who enter the country without a good reason, but that’s really it…”
Anastacia shrugged, there was a whole bunch of details Gilbert didn’t need to know about. Maybe she would tell him when the cult had been wiped off the map. Talking about her past was something she didn’t enjoy, but at the same time Anastacia understood Gilbert’s curiosity over necromancy, as it was largely a mystery to the outside world. Mostly thanks to the red inquisition who had worked tirelessly to hunt down the necromancers who abandoned the cult.
“I think I got it.” Gilbert said suddenly. “I think they’re waiting to gather enough power. To drastically increase the number of necromancers, you need to have a society that thinks it’s a good trait. In most places, if a baby is born with the power to control the dead, it would be killed without a second thought.”
Anastacia thought that may have been a part of the reason. Necromancers have tendency to spread disease, even if they’re not trying to, so most countries would just get rid of them.
After returning to Valor, Gilbert returned to the inn to see how Dammar was doing, and Anastacia went to return her simulacrum to the blacksmith. While taking a look at King, she remembered the hole on the prince’s chest. Instead of a hole, King had something that resembled a button. Maybe the hole was there but King had some kind of energy source in it?
“Can you tell me what this is?” Anastacia asked and touched the spot. “Your friend has a hole here. I think it might be what’s wrong with him.”
King took a few seconds to react, Anastacia assumed it was to figure out how to gesture it. Suddenly the simulacrum placed its hand on Anastacia’s chest.
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“It’s your… heart? As in it keeps you alive?” Anastacia guessed. “So if I take yours out and put it into him, he’ll wake up?”
King nodded.
“That means, to fix him we need to take one from another simulacrum… Since I’m pretty sure they’re not sold anywhere.” Anastacia suggested. “You’re fine with killing another simulacrum to fix him?”
King nodded again.
Anastacia wondered if there was something important or special about the prince, as it didn’t really make sense to sacrifice one simulacrum to fix another one. Her naïve side felt that it must be because the prince is King’s friend, but she was aware that supposedly the simulacra didn’t have feelings. She’d have to figure it out by waking up the prince, since it was unlikely that King could mime a long explanation like that.
The blacksmith was still behind the counter in his shop, making the scabbard when he heard the necromancer and her simulacrum enter.
“How’d the thing with the goblins go? Or whatever it was.” the dwarf asked without looking up from his work.
“Okay, I guess. Almost killed a dwelf.” Anastacia admitted and browsed the weapons on the shop’s wall.
The blacksmith stopped working and went pale.
“The dwelf, what did he look like? Brown short hair and blue eyes? Was he a mage?!” He asked, looking concerned.
“Yeah, that would be him. Do you know the shitbag?” Anastacia responded and picked up a glaive from a stand next to her. She tried using it but didn’t really know what she was doing.
“Aye… Valimir’s my brother. Well, half-brother.” The blacksmith sighed. “He didn’t do anything stupid, did he?”
“Aside from almost getting killed, first by the goblins and then by me? Noooo, he was a real gentleman and totally not a scumbag that needs to be thrown off a cliff.” Anastacia answered sarcastically.
The dwarf banged his head repeatedly on the counter and cursed in a language Anastacia didn’t understand.
“For fuck’s sake, Val one of these days you’ll get your stupid ass killed and it will be me who has to explain it to mother.” He said to himself.
While Anastacia swung the glaive around, almost hitting the other weapons and King, the blacksmith continued to curse his brother and work on the scabbard, all that was left was to attach the needed straps on it and fit it on King.
“Could you bring a few rivets for me? They’re in the back room, on the table.” The dwarf asked, trying to give Anastacia something to do so she wouldn’t break anything.
Just as Anastacia disappeared into the back room, the shop’s door was slammed open.
“Dear brother! Your younger sibling has successfully returned from another one of his grand endeavors. Carrying a full purse as always!” Valimir declared and waltzed to the counter. “Let me tell you, I met this necromancer lass today, and she was really into me. She must have been really skilled since she sure enthralled my bon…”
The dwelf was interrupted by Anastacia, who came back with a handful of rivets. She immediately considered throwing them at Valimir.
“And there she is! How about I come back when she isn’t here, and holding a terribly sharp polearm?” Valimir continued before running out as fast as he could.
The blacksmith continued hitting his head into the counter. Once Anastacia gave him the rivets, the dwarf completed his work in silence. The final product fit the simulacrum perfectly, allowing him to carry his sword more easily. The blacksmith kept apologizing for his brother’s behavior and insisted that the scabbard was free because of it, even though Anastacia said that it wasn’t his fault.
It was already almost midnight when Anastacia and King returned to the inn. After a quick meal and a bath, Anastacia was ready to head to bed. She still hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep after her return from the forest.