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Resurrection For Sale
Chapter 1 - The Interview

Chapter 1 - The Interview

Chapter 1 – The Interview

For Kori, it all started one afternoon when he was twelve. That day he found a dead starling while out watering the roses. A careless cat must have caught it for the poor thing looked only half mauled before being left to rot in the middle of the walkway as if it were an offering for the gardener.

Kori paused over it with his tin watering can in hand. The tiny body was so bloody and dirty that he could no longer see the shine of its feathers. Before he knew what he was doing, he was pouring clean water over the little corpse. He told himself it deserved a cleaning and proper burial, but in his heart, he wished that a simple bath would undo what had been done to it.

And that’s when the magic first happened.

Suddenly the water had a light in it as it poured out of the metal can. It washed over the tiny corpse and that same blue light bloomed in its remaining dull eye. It twitched and the sight made Kori jump. The water splashed and the last wave brought the bird fluttering back to its feet. One wing was clearly broken, hanging lifeless at its side, but otherwise the bird looked up at him calmly and curiously.

“Hello,” Kori breathed. He tried to tell himself that the bird was only faking death or lying still to catch its strength. But the eerie blue light that faintly shimmered in its eyes told him differently.

That bird had been dead and now it was not. Staring up, it seemed to be waiting on him now, as if it were beholden to him for this new life.

Kori didn’t know what to do with it. He looked about to see if anyone was around but the back garden was always quiet at this hour. His father’s servants were inside preparing breakfast and his tutor would be expecting him soon. He looked back to the little bird and wondered if it’s wing would mend or if it was like this forever now.

“Okay, come with me,” he said at length and tapped his shoulder. Miraculously, the little bird hopped up his arm and perched as commanded.

Kori told him he was a good boy and quietly made his way back inside the house. He didn’t bother to put the watering can back either. He took it up to his room with the bird. There he bade his new friend stay while he snuck back down for dry bread and a little fresh water.

Once the bird had everything, he went back to his daily schedule and waited for his father to come home. He would know what to do about this… or so Kori thought.

✵✵✵

20 years later.

✵✵✵

“You don’t look like a magician.”

Snow looked up from his thoughts to find the next applicant already easing down into the seat across from him, but not before gesturing to a passing waitress for an ale – on him, of course. Necessary expenses, he told himself. Still, Snow couldn’t help the sour scowl that briefly marred his face and turned his ice blue eyes to daggers.

“I get that a lot,” he replied calmly. It was true. He dressed more like a wealthy merchant than a magician. Snow loved the finer things, a lingering habit from an earlier life on the coast growing up in a rich household. He almost never frequented such rustic accommodations as this back-alley tavern.

His boots were handmade as was his jacket, and the elegant sword that hung at his hip seemed made for more gentlemanly combat than the chaos of war. His leather gloves received an odd glance from the new interviewee. Likely because he was still wearing them despite the plate of dinner and a half-drunk glass of wine before him.

“But you are one, right?” the man asked as he started to settle.

“Correct.” Snow replied dryly. He hoped the man had more brains than this. He was in the market for a bodyguard, not a wall of dumb muscle. The applicant across from him could definitely pass for the latter. He was almost a full head taller with broad shoulders and short, sandy brown hair. There was a sword on his back that would require some hefting on Snow’s part. The magician hoped it wasn’t just for show.

“So, do you turn into anything? A wolf? A snake?” the man asked with a shit-eating grin. That was a first for Snow; not just the odd question but the levity. Every other applicant had been as serious as the grave and did nothing but boast of their own feats. Snow rarely saw much interest in his abilities in anyone over the age of ten.

After a moment, Snow replied. “No.”

“But you control the elements, right?” The man bent forward now with one elbow propped on the table so he could lean his square jaw against his hand. It was the posture of a toddler listening to the local storyteller weave an engrossing tale.

“On occasion,” Snow’s brow knitted as he continued to answer. Normally, names were exchanged by now along with a demanded price. He sat back for a moment as he continued to try and figure out if there was more to this odd character.

“You do spells and stuff?” the man gestured with the other hand as if spells were something that required one to wave their hand around in the air.

“Are you going somewhere with this?” Snow finally broke in. “Usually I ask the questions”

“Just wondering why you need a bodyguard,” the man shrugged as he said it. By then the waitress had dropped a pint before him, which seemed to pull a new grin across his face. Snow suddenly had the feeling that this man only sat down to satisfy his curiosity and score free drinks. If it weren’t for the sword on his back, Snow would have ended the interview right there. He didn’t care for games.

“Don’t all evil villains need henchmen?” Snow watched the man chug a third of the drink down in one go. He then brought the pint back down with a clack and gave Snow a long, unnerving look with what were surprisingly kind looking hazel eyes. The look was suddenly sober despite all the childish questions.

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“You don’t look like a villain either,” he said with another shrug. “More like some puffy, golden-headed prince.”

Snow scoffed at the description. “Tell that to the people who would rather not see me offering my services around the countryside,” he replied as he reached for his wine.

“And what is your trade?”

It was Snow’s turn to take a long drought before speaking. “Resurrection.”

Snow had already seen half a dozen would-be strong men and most, it seemed, had already been hired as thugs or henchmen in the past. All they asked about was the pay and travel. They didn’t seem to care if he was a magician, vampire, or bloodless demon hiring them. He could have been a slimy sea serpent still munching on the raw flank of a sailor and half wouldn’t have bat an eye so long as he paid well.

Magician seeks bodyguard – fair pay – must travel. That was all he had posted among the many inns and taverns throughout the old city of Erbin. Applicants were to come to the Underwall Tavern along the city’s southern ramparts, but such a posting also garnered a few who came only to gawk or beg for favors. Most of the latter he couldn’t help.

Snow didn’t make love potions or grant immortality, at least not the kind people desired, and he would not facilitate the selling of souls for demon gifts – no matter how much coin was on the table. (The last demon he called still knows his name and would likely be the first to show up.) And while some said they only wanted information; Snow had learned long ago that knowledge unearned was rarely used well. There were many magical places and beings in this world, and most didn’t care for visitors – especially those who don’t know how to behave.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to know who I’m speaking with,” Snow asked before the questions could continue.

“Titus Helm, and you?”

“My name is Snow, Korvinian Snow.”

“Snow, eh? … I suppose it’s not too popular… your trade,” Titus commented as he started to slowly sip the remainder of his ale.

“That depends on who you ask,” Snow replied, “what if I told you that you could have one more hour with your father, or have a chance to say goodbye to your mother who died while you were traveling?”

Titus considered it for a moment. “So, you don’t raise undead armies?”

It was Snow’s turn to smirk, “no.”

“But isn’t it…,” Titus was reaching for a word. Snow knew many. He’d heard them time and again.

“Gruesome? Unholy? Blasphemous?”

Titus tilted his head, “… yeah.”

“I don’t think it’s any of those things, but regardless, you’re not going to be present for it. I’ll expect you to wait outside the room,” Snow replied.

Titus shrugged. “Still, I’d like to know what I’m getting into here.”

Snow sighed and began, “I only raise those that have recently passed. They can’t be dead for more than a week and I can only repair a certain amount of damage. Most of those I resurrect died of a recent illness or a less-violent death like drowning. I rarely resurrect them for more than a day. My service is not to reverse death, but to give a small second chance at closure. And I draw a line at the very young. Their souls are not strong enough to pass back and forth.”

“But… those people paying you are in mourning… aren’t you just exploiting that?” Titus crossed his arms over his broad chest.

For the first time, Snow began to wonder if good pay would be enough to secure a good hire; one who wouldn’t abandon him at the first sign of trouble. In response to Titus, he discreetly gestured around the room. “Many of these people enjoy a good drink.” He then nodded to the barkeep. “Is the bartender exploiting that desire or just providing it?” He let the question hang a moment before adding. “Besides, what about those untimely deaths, or murder? Wouldn’t you want to know who killed your brother or if a death was truly an accident? Many questions can be answered with a few extra hours.”

Titus glanced around as he seemed to mull over the idea. In the dim light, Snow noticed a set of scars across the man’s neck. He took a second to try and place them. Most might have mistaken them for an animal bite, but Snow knew an old vampire wound when he saw one. It was a neat and delicate bite. A female. A female who liked him.

“I’ll make you a deal. Take the job and if your conscious or your gut starts to twist after the third stop, I’ll give you fair pay for the time spent and terminate the contract.” Snow then sat back with his wine to see if those big arms would untangle.

“First tell me why you really need a bodyguard,” he replied.

“Fair enough,” Snow sat the empty wine glass down before continuing, “obviously, the church takes a dim view of what I do, but the local priest isn’t the problem. The problem is a particular group of righteous zealots who are known for hunting the evil creatures of this world. They happen to consider me one of those monsters.”

“Imagine that,” Titus smirked. Snow ignored the comment.

“I’ve been able to stay ahead of them all this time, but they’ve become even more hypocritical by starting to employ some of the very same magic they deem evil. It has made them more of a nuisance than before. And, obviously, I cannot give my service the serious attention it requires if I am always looking over my shoulder. I want someone to watch my back.”

Snow waited for his answer. When it didn’t come, he decided to move the conversation along with another question. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

“How far do you travel?”

Snow started to have faith again that this might not have been a complete waste. Despite all the questions, Titus seemed to have more brains than he let on and he didn’t feel like some thug – at least not when he wasn’t chugging a pint. “From shore to shore, and to the edge of the Tyrian mountains.”

“I won’t have to dig up any graves, will I?”

Snow smirked. “No.”

There was another long pause before Titus said, “Okay, I’ll take the deal, Snowflake.” He then outstretched his hand across the table to shake on it.

“Good,” Snow replied as he reached forward to give the man’s massive hand a brief but solid shake. “And it’s Snow,” he corrected Titus with a brief scowl before settling back.

Titus smirked in reply before taking up his ale again and promptly signaling to the waitress for a refill.

“And if there’s one more puffy-prince reference,” Snow continued, “you might find yourself in that graveyard after all… understood?” Snow scowled to show that he meant it, but the threat only garnered a sly grin from his new bodyguard.

“Sure thing, your majesty.”

Snow suddenly wondered if he had made a mistake.

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