Vincent’s mind returned to his body in a rush, making him sigh. It was always so exhilarating to use magic. Even if the spell he was using wasn’t one he created. The spell was just so simple and useful not to use. There was a note from the necromancer that had developed the spell. Something about soul damage to the target.

Vincent couldn’t concern himself with some random undead’s soul.

No, it was more important that he learned all he could about this strange necromancer and his minions. Unfortunately, the information he was able to retrieve was limited, this had been the last of the four captured undead. But Vincent got a decent picture of the man behind the magic. One perfectly willing to kill people that slighted him.

It was disconcerting to Vincent that the four undead considered the man to be akin to some godly being. Vincent wanted to poke more into that but he had limited attempts with the spell before it no longer worked. Likely due to this so-called soul damage. A minor inconvenience.

The biggest takeaway he got was the man used many of the spells from the same book Vincent had. Meaning he had received a copy of the book at one time as well. Perhaps even before Vincent had gotten his hands on a copy. So then why had the tracking magic not shown this necromancer? It wasn’t an issue of range. Had the man learned everything from the book and then destroyed it because he realized it could be tracked? That seemed like the most likely possibility. It didn’t matter though. Vincent had traced the path back to him through his minions' movements.

He wasn’t afraid of this unknown necromancer, quite the opposite in fact. The man in the memories was a rather sloppy spell caster. It reminded Vincent of his early years until he discovered faster and more efficient ways to cast his spells. Certainly, any decent mage should have overcome those limitations by now. As to why this necromancer hadn’t, Vincent wasn’t sure. Maybe he was just really bad at magic.

Not that it mattered why this man’s magic casting was sloppy. If anything it made Vincent’s job that much easier. Vincent couldn’t have an unregulated necromancer running around causing trouble. Especially not with his father being the chairman of the board for their little undertaking. It didn’t matter that this man was many zones away. If his father learned of this, he could censure Vincent for failing to do his duties.

While he didn’t always agree with his father or the tactics he employed. The man was trying to rebuild the country. That wasn’t easy when you factored in all these new and unknown threats. Sometimes getting others to fall in line required acting through force. Something Vincent was more than happy to do.

As for what the other members of the Wizard Council thought of his methods? He didn’t much care. They were not fans of Vincent’s form of magic anyway. But they were more than happy to make use of some of the spells he had at his disposal. Especially the age reversal and undead army ones.

Vincent wiped his skeletal hands clean. He wasn’t here to complain about his father or the other members. He was here to prepare to go after his next target and hopefully the last.

“Master Vincent, your father will not be happy when he learns of this.”

Vincent ignored his butler's pedantic whining.

Telling the man to keep his mouth shut wouldn’t work. The man was an open spy for his father. And even though he had been converted into an undead, Vincent did not trust him one bit. Mainly because Vincent could not control him like he could his army. His father had strongly suggested that a certain number of tireless undead servants be left with their wills intact.

While it wasn’t a direct order from his father, Vincent knew it to be an order nonetheless. The thought of having an undead running around that could ignore his commands worried Vincent, but he wasn’t foolish enough to go against his father’s order. The man hadn’t gotten to his position as head of the council without being strong and ruthless.

“I’m not some child to be coddled. This is my discovery. And I will not let him snatch it out from under me as he did with the book. Besides, he has more important issues to worry about with those hostile mages to the south.”

Vincent walked past the simpering butler and headed toward his summoning hall. The details of what exactly this ‘discovery’ was were hidden from the butler. He didn’t want it known that he was going to remove another undead threat. He had already assured his father that there were no more of those rogue books floating about. If his father found out that wasn’t true, Vincent would face repercussions. Probably in the form of a censure and if that happened, he would not be allowed to use magic until that censure was lifted. And knowing his father, that could be decades from now.

When he first met that damn traveling salesman so long ago he had been so enthusiastic. He should have known better. But he was a foolish child of sixteen, he hadn’t yet realized the true problem. But his father had. When Vincent showed his father the book, it was like opening Pandora’s box. Vincent had been forced to learn every spell within the book, then spend every waking moment until he managed to unlock the secrets of controlling the undead and a spell to reverse aging. After that, he was tasked with rooting out all of the copies of this book and finding the merchant that sold them.

The task of finding the extra books and necromancers was made easy by tracking the contents of the book. That piece of magic had cost him a favor to one of the other council members but it had been worth it. Vincent was more than happy to pay the price to rid California and the rest of the world of any future undead problems.

And while Vincent saw it as a positive to get rid of these necromancers, he also benefited by expanding his magical repertoire. Spells were not easy to create after all. Before Vincent came across the book, he hadn’t known any necromantic spells yet. And since then, the only spells Vincent had created himself were Undead Control and Reverse Aging. That second one was only because of his father’s influence. And within the last few years, he had doubled the number of spells he knew simply by reappropriating from those who shouldn’t have that kind of power.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He had only recently accomplished the task of eliminating the merchant that was spreading the copies of the book when he ran into the four unknown undead. Thankfully, Vincent had come prepared to fight off the merchant as if he was a necromancer himself. So he went unseen as a group of four unknown undead entered the warehouse where he had slain the merchant.

The group looked around the warehouse but seemed unhappy with what they saw. They spoke quietly amongst themselves before exiting the building.

When Vincent followed the undead back to their hideout, he came across something strange. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Vincent used his capture spell on the four. The spell wasn’t powerful enough to hold forever, but it allowed Vincent the time he needed to get the four into a mobile holding cell.

To find out that not only was another rogue necromancer running about, but one that could come back from the dead was a sobering realization for Vincent. He knew the amount of damage a necromancer could do if they weren’t properly controlled. It was why he ruthlessly squashed the ones he had come across so far. The ones he had encountered so far were also deranged and dangerous. They were not the type of mages that liked being held accountable for their actions.

As Vincent entered the summoning hall, he was presented with a circle on the floor inlaid with red-tinged gold. None of that early nonsense where he had to redraw his magic every single time. The gold acted as a perfect conductor for magic, much like it did for electricity. All he had to do was add the magical dust and the spell would activate. And he could swap out the symbols as needed with other square tiles.

But Vincent wasn’t here to use the spell circle today. Instead, he crossed the room to a small doorway surrounded by a deadly magical barrier. One that would kill anyone other than him that tried to cross through it. Another gift from one of his previous peers.

He didn’t even slow as he approached this barrier, he simply strode through. It did make him smile internally as he heard the indignant squeak of his ever-present butler when he was forced to halt beyond the barrier.

This was the only true space that Vincent could be free of the man’s constant spying. The barrier also blocked light and sound from passing through. The butler might suspect Vincent was up to something, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t prove it. Once he had learned of these ‘phylacteries’, Vincent immediately had them moved by his mindless undead into this secured chamber.

The room wasn’t very large. About the size of a small office. But it was lined with shelves filled with gold and other unique and dangerous items. In the center of the room was a small cart lined with felt. On that cart sat three tan orbs that looked rather mundane on the outside but he knew differently. Vincent admired the complete blandness of the objects, it hid their purpose rather well.

There was a fourth orb but Vincent had it delivered to an acquaintance that owed him a favor. He was hoping the woman could recreate the objects to make them more permanent, similar to how she had figured out that gold could be used to make casting circles permanent. He was sure his father would be happy with that result. It would mean they could be more aggressive in their goal to reunite California.

Vincent ran his bony digits across the orbs, feeling their magic as it linked with his body and soul. While he didn’t understand the theory behind the devices, he could tell they weren’t much different than how he linked to his undead. That didn’t mean he would ever be able to recreate the spell used to make them. But he didn’t have to. He only had to duplicate the item.

Why go through all the hassle of reverse engineering a spell, when there were easier ways? Besides, once he finished this campaign, he would have the spell along with all of the other necromancer’s knowledge anyway, even if he had to pull it from the man’s corpse.

Vincent lifted the orb from its felt stand and tucked it into a bag. He repeated this with the other two, stuffing the last one into his robe. He would give these bags to some of his undead to keep the items safe. He hadn’t gotten a straight answer from the undead’s memories he scanned, but if the orbs worked similarly to his control spell, there was likely a limit to how far away they could be from him and still work.

As Vincent exited the secure area, he almost ran head-first into the butler. He pushed down the intrusive thought of tossing the annoying man into the barrier and being done with him once and for all. His father would know immediately that the man was dead though. Which Vincent couldn’t afford at this time.

Besides, the man’s orders to stick by his side were working to Vincent’s advantage at the moment. But as soon as Vincent left the estate, the man would be free to report to his father. Vincent wanted everything in place before that happened. So this entire time he had his forces mustering as far as he could to the east. There was no telling how many undead this unknown necromancer had under his control by now, so Vincent was going in with everything he could control.

Vincent knew his father wouldn’t bother coming after him. Especially once he left California. The man had too much going on to worry about what his son was up to. That didn’t mean his father wouldn’t try to stop him before he left California or that he wouldn’t try to place another spy to keep an eye on him. But that was normal for his paranoid father.

His father didn’t trust anyone with power besides himself. It was a smart choice given how magic seemed to give people a god complex.

Even Vincent wasn’t immune to the allure of power magic provided. Given the ability, Vincent would depose his father and take his place in a heartbeat. Only he wouldn’t put up with the bickering and nonsense from the other council members. If Vincent felt that way about his own father, he was sure some of the rather less amenable council members did as well.

After grabbing the phylacteries, he made his way for the main exit from the manor. He could practically hear the butler salivating behind him as he got closer to the door. But just before he crossed the threshold, he spun on the butler and tapped a bone to the surprised man’s chest. The man vanished inside the bone. Within less than ten seconds there was an audible crack from the artifact.

That was fine. The bone would last for about an hour, giving Vincent plenty of time to escape from his father’s spies. Vincent set the bone down gently inside a vase near the door. It wouldn’t do to have a random maid come across it and break the man free prematurely. With that business out of the way, Vincent hurried down the stairs and into the waiting carriage outside. With a mental command, the undead horses broke into a tireless sprint east.

Vincent sat back in the plush interior of the carriage and smiled internally. He had finally gotten one over on his father. The man would be furious once he learned about Vincent’s little trip but that was fine. When he returned from this campaign, even his father’s anger wouldn’t be enough to stop Vincent from declaring the mission a success.

***

A crow tilted its head as it watched the carriage move away from the house. Once the vehicle was out of sight, it flew down and landed on the porch, morphing into a man with a black feathered cape.

The man pushed his way into the home, frowning when he didn’t see the butler waiting for him in his usual spot.

“Where are you, you rotting bastard,” the black-caped man called out.

There was no answer, but his sensitive hearing picked up a cracking sound. Following the noise, the man looked into one of the vases and found a bone. He pulled the bone out of the vase with long delicate fingers, giving it a sniff. The man reared back at the foul-smelling magic coming from the item. Not knowing what it was, he threw it across the room. As the bone shattered against the far wall, his contact popped into existence looking a bit stunned.

The caped man would need to report this unknown spell to the Chairman, but first, he needed to get answers from the confused-looking butler.