Alec didn’t know how long he’d slept for, the thick forest canopy preventing him from tracking time by the position of the sun. He’d barely been awake for ten minutes before he’d found himself on his feet and trekking through the forest, teeth slowly grinding away, or perhaps grinding down, on hard biscuit from Erebus’ pack. There was something of a change this time; rather than Erebus leading the way, Holly was in charge.

The scarlet haired dryad was quite enjoying her newfound authority as she led them both to the eastern edge of the forest. At least that was the theory, Holly had never been more than a few hundred metres from her tree before this, and thusly her directions were mildly dubious.

But Holly’s actual navigation abilities were irrelevant as she wasn’t actually navigating. The forest was, the young dryad merely asking for directions to a place the humans called Circulus Seruatis or at least that’s what Erebus had told her as they set off that morn.

“What’s she doing?” Alec asked after about the fifth time the girl told them to stop before hurrying out of sight amidst the trees.

“She’s getting directions from the other dryads of the forest,” Erebus explained.

“Couldn’t you do that?” Alec enquired, wondering why they’d needed the dryad for something so simple, then wondering why he was thinking of their group in the collective sense as he was still being held against his will.

“Oh, anywhere else in the world certainly but this is the Forest Von Mori, the trees aren’t so fond of humans but they wouldn’t deny the request of a fellow dryad, Holly’s presence means we shall pass through unmolested by anything of this forest. Well anything sapient or plant-born anyway,” Erebus imparted with a slight smile. “Why? Are you regretting your decision already?”

“I don’t think she likes me,” the youngster admitted.

“Friendships take time to build, you can’t expect everyone to like you instantly. After all, as the saying goes, the Necropolis wasn’t built in a day,” Erebus told him before continuing to muse. “In fact, a reasonable number of my friends started out trying to kill me…”

“Hang on, why would this predator thing still be after us if we now have Holly?” the boy demanded, thinking back to the mage’s earlier comment.

“Because Lu- the predator is not of the forest, it followed us in.”

“Why would it do that? I mean if it’s a predator then surely there is easier prey than us,” Alec enquired, the necromancer’s story no longer making sense.

“It is not some mindless beast as you would understand it, this creature hunts us for the same reason it wiped out your village, it is a being of unparalled hate and lust for power,” Erebus said, voice both solemn and sad.

“They’re really dead then?” Alec asked, almost inaudible in acknowledging his fear. The necromancer’s word was suspect, but Von Mori had confirmed the existence of this fell hunter, and if the legends he’d heard were true, then the soul of the forest was unable to lie.

“I’m afraid so,” Erebus confessed, “there are worse things than necromancers in the world.”

“Why didn’t you stop it, you’re a necromancer, you have all this power, why didn’t you use it?” Alec demanded suddenly, a new anger in his voice.

Erebus placed his hands on the teen’s shoulders, kneeling so they were level as he held eye contact. “Calm child, there are a multitude of reasons, but first you must trust what I say to you now.” He took a deep breath. “You will never know what it cost me to watch people dying for me yet know I could not intervene. I would have forsaken this life in an instant to save them but I have been bound to other responsibilities.”

Alec opened his mouth to shout about how the mage should have done it anyway, only to stop as he noticed the tears in the necromancer’s eyes, not yet enough to fall but getting close. Instead, and showing great tact, the boy asked, “What responsibilities?”

“These things don’t happen in a void, that this creature was bold enough to engage in such slaughter means bad things are happening elsewhere. The fact such a massacre can happen is something the Council of Mages need to hear about, monsters like this haven’t existed since the time of the Last Necromancer-Paladin War.”

“The what?” Alec asked, not a historian by any measure.

“Think of it as the last major punch up between paladin and magician, happened about five hundred years ago. Rather optimistically called the Last in the hope the peace would endure this time, presumably it will be renamed if it fails.” Erebus explained patiently, unable to resist a slight, if weary, smile at the easy distraction of youth.

“What sort of monsters?” the boy asked, wondering what creatures could be that dangerous.

“Oh both sides had evils, we had the dread healers, the hungry mould and the flesh heaps. The paladins had the seraphim, the null cloud and, of course, the Mindbreaker.” The necromancer almost whispered the last one, his tone one of reverent horror.

“Those are just names,” Alec complained. “What were they like?”

“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t there. But, going from some of the recounts I’ve heard…” Erebus paused, unsure where to begin. “The dread healers were an abomination, no, a perversion of that noble art. My order had wiped them out to a man in aeons past. But, when it looked like magic would pass from this world, we brought them back, a resurrection on an unprecedented scale.”

“What made them so dangerous?” Alec pressed as the necromancer paused for breath.

“They could kill with healing, block arteries, stop the heart, cause a bleed into the brain, and all they needed was a touch, and not all needed even that. To use healing for murder, it’s unthinkable.”

“Then why did you do it?” Alec enquired fairly.

“We were desperate, we were the last stronghold of magic on the continent. And the paladins sunk far lower than us. Octavus the Mindbreaker was… I’m not sure how to explain it, he was a mentalmancer, or neuromancer as they call it in the modern parlance, basically a mind mage the paladin order had captured as a child. For two decades they tortured him, broke him, and empowered him. He was the most powerful telepath the world had ever seen, and all he could do was lash out, forcing his own pain into those around him, and around him could be anything up to ten miles depending on his mood. He had an escort of paladins in nullsteel plate. It was pure butchery, our side were too busy writhing in agony to fight back.” Erebus finally stopped talking, looking mournful at such great loss of life.

“And this predator is one of those things you mentioned?” Alec asked, sounding not scared but more in awe at the thought of such beings.

“No, if only it were something as simple as that. Which brings me to the other reason I could not help, this being is almost immune to magic, against it I would be naught but an old man with a stick,” Erebus lamented. “I’m sorry lad.”

Alec didn’t know what to say but was saved the trouble by Holly’s triumphant return, the dryad wearing a broad grin. “Apparently, this town of yours is two days walk to the southeast.”

“So you finally found a dryad who could do more than just point you vaguely in the right direction?” Erebus asked, back to his usual quiet and mildly more cheerful self from the moment the girl had emerged from the undergrowth.

“Yep, let’s get going; it’s this way.” And with that, the dryad walked off in the direction she’d been pointing, the others having to break into a jog to catch up.

“You seem more cheerful,” Alec remarked, slowing alongside her.

“Go away. I don’t like you, I don’t want to like you. Just go away,” Holly snapped, only increasing her pace.

But Alec was undeterred; after all, if he was to be spending the rest of his life with her, then he’d best put the effort in now. Besides, both Erebus and his erstwhile mentor, the monk before him, had said, though, with rather different metaphors, friendships required work and effort, both to build and maintain.

“So what’s it like being a dryad?” he asked, trying to draw her out of her rather spiky shell.

“That’s a stupid question,” Holly huffed. “It would be like me asking you what it’s like being a human. You can’t explain it, it just is.”

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There was a quiet chuckle from behind them as Erebus watched the young teen be rebuffed yet again, though it was good the boy was putting in the effort.

“Can you try and answer anyway?” Alec pressed, determined to develop a rapport with her.

“No.”

Alec gave up, withdrawing back to walk alongside Erebus, who was already in conversation with Ente.

“I’m telling you dragon marrow isn’t a good focus for wraith bonds. Too much power and too much residual life, any wraith worth binding will work the spell back on you, a focusing crystal on each point will allow you to rebound any assaults back on the wraith and you then do the bonds the slow way,” Erebus explained patiently to the ghost, who vehemently disagreed.

“That’s just for the minor stuff, for a malevolence class wraith you want dragon marrow,” the ghost countered, the debate going completely over Alec’s head.

“Why would you want to summon a malevolence class wraith? They’re all locked away for a reason.”

“Bah. In my day necromancers had a bit more spirit,” Ente stated firmly.

“Yes, but in your day necromancers had little regard for the consequences of their actions, we’re still tidying up after your ‘bit more spirit’ now,” somehow Erebus managed to make it sound like an observation rather than a rebuke. “Now enough talk of work.” He smiled at Alec, “Holly still giving you the cold shoulder I see.”

“Yeah,” the teen admitted weakly.

“Don’t be discouraged, in time, once she’s got used to being Sundered then she will think back to these early days and remember that you made an effort. Right now she’s just looking for someone to blame, currently it’s you for doing it to her, soon it will be me for making her do it, then Lady Von Mori for bringing her into this in the first place, then finally herself for agreeing to it. And then, once she has ran out of people to blame, will come acceptance,” Erebus explained softly, careful to keep his voice too low for their young guide to hear.

“That makes no sense,” Alec replied without as much tact in regards to his volume.

“It doesn’t need to, it is simply the nature of people to hide their insecurities in others, and right now Holly has never felt so insecure in her life, and not without reason,” the necromancer informed him.

“What were you arguing with Ente about?” the boy asked, the child’s mind able to flit from subject to subject with ease.

“Just the trivial nonsense of academics,” he assured the young teen with a slight smile.

“You sounded angry,” Alec half-accused.

“Less angry, more passionate about my views,” Erebus said after a moment’s thought. “Not that I begrudge Ente his.”

“That’s code for ‘you’re still wrong.’“ The ghost chimed in ‘helpfully’.

“Why not? I mean if you disagree with his opinion then surely you must want to change it.”

“Of course I do, but the only way to truly change someone’s views is through rational debate, not by anger or force, even if they seem to capitulate all you’ve done is demonstrate your own ignorance, for if you cannot make your point peacefully then clearly you can’t have much in the way of fact to back up your point of view. Although with extremely recalcitrant listeners I have been known to lose my temper. But by doing so I have merely made myself look a fool to those around me, as a friend of mine would say ‘If you’ve lost your temper, you’ve lost the argument’” Erebus smiled slightly, so far, from what Alec had seen, the necromancer was always at his most animated when discussing the more philosophical and metaphysical aspects of life.

Alec smiled as well; his own mentor, the monk, had been rather fond of the phrase as well.

Erebus sighed slightly, “Best we stop to eat,” he murmured almost to himself before shouting for Holly to stop, the dryad not overly pleased due to not needing to eat herself, still she could see the sense in keeping her, for lack of a better word, host healthy.

The meal was a bleak affair, involving a bounteous feast of dry bread, hard cheese and almost gone-off salted meat from Erebus’ own supplies. Regardless of that, it was still food, and the two ate it with the minimum of complaints. Hunger was always the best seasoning.

Unusually it was Holly who broke the silence, her tone timid and unsure. “What’s it like? Eating I mean,” the dryad asked uneasily. “I mean it looks disgusting, having to consume the flesh of animals and plants,” she finished defensively.

Erebus laughed ever so slightly, allowing himself a moment of amusement before trying to think of an answer, but it was Alec who answered first.

“It’s just something we have to do to survive. It’s enjoyable most of the time but even when you don’t like the food, you still have to do it,” the boy explained as best he could.

“Yes but what’s it like?” Holly demanded.

Alec floundered, trying to answer. “Well, uh… it’s… I mean.. I-”

“It’s a place called Up,” Erebus interrupted; his answer met a blank stare from Holly. Even Alec looked momentarily puzzled before enlightenment dawned.

“A little less cryptic please?” Holly finally asked.

“I do suppose a little explanation is in order,” Erebus admitted with a slight smile, “best make yourself comfortable, it’s a bit of a tale.”

The duo complied, crossing their legs after moving to slightly more comfortable sections of tree root, with Holly apologising profusely to the tree’s dryad for such abuse.

“The world was flat, a boundless reality of lines and shapes. And one of these shapes was called Square, and Square was in a prison and had been for many years now. He hadn’t seen another shape beyond the Triangle guarding his cell in all that time and was very lonely.” Erebus paused for breath, amused to see that, despite the childishness of his metaphor, Holly was hanging on his every word.

“One day, out of nowhere, a Circle appeared in his cell, but like no other he’d met before, it was growing.

“How did you do that?’ Square asked.

“Do what?” replied the somewhat confused circle.

“Appear like that,’ Square clarified. ‘Where did you come from?’

“Well, the circle took some time to think about this before finally replying, ‘I came from Up.’

‘Where’s Up?’ Asked Square.

“Again, there was a long pause as the circle tried to think of an answer. ‘Up is Up.’ The circle declared. ‘I can’t explain it… but maybe I can show you if you’ll let me.’

“Well, the square was incredulous, ‘How can you take me anywhere? I’m in a prison.’

“The circle was thoroughly amused, ‘Let me show you.’ And so the circle took Square up. And for the first time ever, the square looked down at the lines that held him captive all these years… and moved over them, gratitude almost overwhelming it. ‘Welcome to Up,’ said Circle, except it wasn’t Circle anymore.

“What are you?’ asked Square, yet to notice the changes to itself.”

‘I’m a sphere,’ said Sphere, ‘and you’re now a cube.’ Well, the square, now Cube, gave this due thought before saying simply, ‘Thank you.’

“‘Whatever for?’ Sphere enquired curiously, clearly not seeing the sheer scale of its gift.

‘I’ve been in prison for two years now; I think a little gratitude at my release should not be unexpected,’ Cube said thoughtfully. ‘So how do I get back…’ The shape sought an appropriate word, not properly versed in the vocabulary needed when discussing dimensional transfer, ‘there?’ Cube finally settled on weakly.”

Erebus paused as he took a moment to observe his enraptured audience of two; the dryad was leaning forwards in her improvised seat while Alec, who had heard the tale before, was paying rapt attention. The necromancer suppressed a smile, pleased to see he still had skills beyond mere magical pursuits, then, taking a deep but silent breath, he plunged back into the narrative.

“‘I’ll do it for you,’ Sphere promised, ‘but first, is there anywhere you’d like to go?’ the shape asked.

‘Just home,’ Cube said gratefully, heading in vaguely the right direction, or so it hoped.” Erebus paused for dramatic effect, “Surprisingly, it turned out that the shape’s guesswork directions were right, so, home, at last, Cube prepared to say goodbye to his newfound friend and rescuer. ‘Thank you for everything,’ it said solemnly, ‘my friends won’t believe it when I tell them what happened.’ And Cube was right, they didn’t,” Erebus concluded watching their reaction with an expert eye, two of them in fact. The duo were looking rather contemplative, Holly particularly.

Finally, after an age, Holly looked up and declared, “I don’t get it.”

Erebus smiled kindly, composing an answer, only for the boy to beat him to it. “Think of it this way; it’s impossible to comprehend something you haven’t experienced by being told it; you have to experience it,” Alec hypothesised, glancing at the necromancer for approval; he may not entirely trust the magician’s motives yet but had already learnt to trust his knowledge.

Erebus gave the subtlest of nods in response, not wanting to steal the audience.

“Why not just say that?” the young dryad demanded in the aggravating nasal tone she was rapidly perfecting.

Erebus took this as his cue to get back in on the conversation whilst his protégé floundered. “Most people find the extended metaphor more effective, not to mention you’d have questioned the outright answer; the metaphor allows you to work it through in your head while the narrative is unfolding.”

“Oh,” was the quiet response, the young dryad looking thoughtful.

The necromancer stood slowly, stretching as he removed the kinks from his spine as well as flexing his arms. “We’ve rested long enough now. Best foot forwards, both of you.”

Obediently, the two youngsters got to their feet whilst the mage shouldered his pack, then, with a theatrical flair, he hooked a leather walking boot under his staff, flicking it up into a waiting palm. Less than a minute later, the clearing was empty as the trio tried to put further distance between themselves and their pursuers.