> A few days after the suffragist movement, the university became engulfed in flames. Individuals believe the cause to be a jaan, but others believe it was an attack on the institute for instilling radical ideas in the minds of the populace.

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> - Of Myth and Legend, El Viajar and the Deuda

They stood outside in the silence. The night had deepened to the point where any sign of life appeared magical and dangerous. Smells calmed, and the silent attitude of the night had grown to its strongest. Facing the club, the Hungry Ghost, Elena looked on in mocked delight, and William openly smiled at the cubic building. “Is this everything you hoped for?” He asked, somewhat mockingly.

Elena looked at him, mouth agape, unsure of why they should be there. With confusion plastered upon her face, William decided to explain. “Well, some of the wording from the fortune teller reminded me of this place. And, well, why not try it out?”

Elena smiled, and poked him, square in the shoulder, “you’re not supposed to believe in fortune telling.”

William shrugged, and smiled, all worry and tension from moments before melting away. “I don’t,” he said, crossing his arms, “but the bar sounds like a good idea right now. It’s a decent place to look, and there’s some ‘counter-culture’ here.” He smiled down at her, eyes alight in a way that signaled to her that she’d enjoy this. He walked, and Elena moved to follow him.

When they neared the door, Shade ran out from the shadows of a bush nearby, stopped at their feet, and rolled around on the group, flipping over once, twice, three times. He stopped, ears pointed back, his eyes darted to the bushes on the other side of the street, and he ran for it. The rustling sound of leaves signaled that he stayed nearby, but that, too, quickly faded.

They both laughed before heading inside, remarking at how odd a cat Shade is.

Inside, the scent of cooked food, beer, and music greeted them. If the outside air danced like a gentle current, the inside of the club kept in place in a thick, muggy sort of way. On the far side of the club, the three-man band played, the banner behind them displaying their name, “Last Panic.” Each member, the singer, guitarist, and drummer, each had white paint plastered on their faces, with black painted around their eyes and lips.

“Notice anything about the band?” William turned to look at Elena, who stood, mouth agape at the sight of people emulating the dead.

“They’re dressed up like Jaan.” A smile slowly crept over her face, and then she looked to William, “they like the Necromancer?”

William, in his typical way, tipped his head one way, and then to the other before replying. “Sort of, you might say that they’re big fans?” In Elena’s eyes, he didn’t look too pleased, but all the same, she felt glad to be there.

They started walking through the club. Some people sat at tables, others danced on the floor. As they walked, William explained, “some people see the Necromancer as ‘anti-establishment’, I’m told that it means he’s a source of rebellion against the church and state.” They walked through the crowd, finding a recently emptied, round table. They sat and looked out over the crowd.

“What’s wrong with the church and state?” Elena asked, unsure if she’d like the answer.

“I’m not sure, but, based on what people here have told me, all you have to do is look outside to understand what’s wrong with it.” He started counting off grievances, one for each finger on his hand, “all the money goes to the larger businesses. It goes to the church. It goes to whoever the church favors. The Deuda is poor, the roads are cracked, and there’s hardly any jobs here.” He finished counting and then threw his hands in the air. “I don’t pay attention to it too much, but these guys view the Necromancer as a figurehead of freedom, rebellion, against what the church wants. Whatever the church doesn’t want is what they do want at this point.”

William puts his head in his hand and then smiles. “There’s a lot of ‘em here. It’s pretty cool.” Elena started thinking it over, the confusion visible on her face. William turned away and looked at the crowd. “I’m going to go ask around, see if anyone matches the description we’re looking for.”

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William left to the crowd, leaving Elena at the table, alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t considered that the reason for the Deuda’s poor state might’ve been the church. Honestly, it didn’t make sense to her. The other half of El Viajar stood tall, rich against the night and day with its glass buildings. The Deuda, with its cracked roads, old homes, and low-to-the-ground businesses always seemed like an, “it just is” sort of fixture in her life.

When William returned, the distress hadn’t left her face. “Hey, don’t worry about it too much. Like I said, I’m not sure if it’s true or not. If it is, then there’s nothing we can do to change it.” He gave her a pitying look, “don’t dwell on it. Come on.”

They started through the crowd, side by side, looking through the rest of the club that William hadn’t checked for signs of anyone matching the description, and asking others about it. Elena repeated what she saw faithfully to many people. Each person, however, hadn’t seen anyone with that description.

As they made their journey, the band stopped playing, and the singer called out to William.

“William? Will! It is you! It’s been forever.” The singer motioned to William, urging him to come closer.

“Forever? It’s only been a few weeks,” William replied, the crowd looked at him. Many people clearly had no idea who William was, but many others, upon him being pointed out, held looks of pure recognition. Some people looked like they knew it was William but were afraid to say anything.

“Come on, come up and sing, Will.” The singer jumped down from the stage, skeletal makeup clear and stark against the light. The shadows almost made it look real in Elena’s eyes.

“Come on, Sonverte. It’s been too long, I’m all rusty.”

“Nonsense!” Sonverte takes William by the hand and guides him up the stage. “One song, just one song.” He turned to the crowd, “for those of you who don’t know, you’re in for a treat.” He jumped down and joined Elena at a nearby table. Up close, she could see the studs of his belt and the wear on his black jacket and pants.

William, by comparison, wore a striped red and grey shirt, blue jeans, and tennis shoes. He almost seemed too clean compared to Elena and the other people. His clothes almost looked new, despite the fact that Elena had seen him wear the same clothes the day before. Elena could see him talking to the other bandmates beside him, clearly asking for what song to play. Next to her, Sonverte roared aloud, “play It’s Time to Panic!”

William gave a thumbs up, and mouthed, “okay” before grabbing the mic.

“I didn’t know he could sing,” Elena said, more of a question than a statement.

The song started slow. The electric guitar built up the melody, followed by the drums. Once it reached a certain point, William started singing.

I woke up,

I started to move,

Nothing else mattered,

So I…

Started to Panic.

The guitar filled in the space as William waited for a few beats to continue.

The night took me,

I felt like a zombie,

I felt alone,

I heard a cry,

I smelt the dead,

So I…

Started to Panic

Started to Panic

Started to Panic

Elena didn’t think the song was that great. But, to her ear, the sound of the electric guitar and drums mixed with Williams singing, brought tears to her eyes. While not obvious to anyone else, the song clearly described how William remembered becoming undead. He must’ve been afraid, she thought.

Sonverte looked over at Elena, and asked her, “you feel it, too?”

Elena nods, and asked him, “why is everyone so happy, but I feel so sad?”

“Most people get excited,” he explained. “I’m not sure why, but some people cry. I feel it, right here,” he beat his fist against his chest. “Will has talent. He has the power to make you feel things.”

Sonverte focuses on the music, eyes closed, as if he could will himself to take in the music completely.

As the song came to a close, Elena and Sonverte stopped crying and began to clap. “Woo!” Elena cried out as best she could.

William hopped off the stage and strode directly to the singer. “I know you’re confused. I came here a couple of months ago and sang once. Now, whenever I show up, they ask me to sing.” William eyed Sonverte, then smiled.

“Everyone loves your singing, Will.”

“Can’t imagine why, I suck at it.”

They talk for a few moments longer. William asked if he had seen anyone by the description Elena gave, leaving out the detail that it could be the Necromancer. As they left the club, the night air quietly wrapped around them. All smiles and sense of good nature left William, leaving him the somber man he had been on the walk up.

“What’s wrong?” Elena asked, unsure of how to proceed.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he replied, leading them into another neighborhood.

“But you’re not smiling anymore, aren’t you happy you got to see your friends?”

William didn’t need a moment to think of his answer. “The smiles are for the people inside, and I’m worn out.”

Elena nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. They continued on to the university. They kept an eye out and talked about where they could look next.