Shouting ahead grew louder as I skidded around the corner. Evan, the Silversmiths adopted teenage son, stood at the top of the brick stair leading to the Silversmiths house. Just coming of age he possessed the wiry frame of some teens. He clutched the ornate metal rail on both sides of the stair like they were the only things keeping him from flying away. Bending forward, eyes clenching shut he screamed “Leave them alone!” at the mob at the base of the stair.

His hunched forward posture, head whipping back and forth immediately conjured an image of a dragon breathing fire in my mind. The crowd looked put off by the display as well. Brave kid. Some of the guys in that crowd were easily double his size.

“Are you guarding this necromancer’s den, boy?” A large, burly man growled, his intimidating word and tone betrayed by his nervous step forward and glancing around to see if the crowd was still backing him. The crowd shifted anxiously, poised for violence but still standing a bit away from Evan. They glanced back and forth a each other for support, the people in the back obviously there to spectate.

“Calm down, everyone.” I started to say. A cry of “Necromancer!” cut into my words as a stone arced toward Evan from the group. It caught him in the shoulder rocking him backwards. I snatched my horn as Evan’s eyes flashed open, expression hard and angry. Several members of the group stooped apparently deciding stones seemed like a good option.

A blast ripped from my horn startling the group. Stones clattered on the ground as they were dropped. Evan’s hard glare swung to me, quickly turning to relief. His knees folded under him, his head bowing as he sagged.

If I’d been a bit slower getting here Evan might’ve been stoned to death. How can people be like this? The thought scared me and made me angry. Any excuse to become a violent mess. The spirit spoke to me in its way “These people are scared. They are willing to kill to protect those they love.” Glancing to the side and my eyes rolled my eyes when I saw it was green. “Of course this kind of shit would make you cheerful.” I thought at it. “Life is fascinating” it replied enigmatically.

Drawing my sword I stepped towards Evan. “I’ll be taking Evan in. You all need to disburse.” I said making shooing motions at the crowd with my free hand. Jorn, a big guy up front raised an eyebrow. He sneered at me stepping directly in front of me. “I should’ve known the half-blood would come to rescue the necromancers.” He said clenching his fists. A few brows around him wrinkled as they tried on this thought.

“This one is weak. It seeks attention.” Came the thought from my spirit. Jorn was definitely not weak. He was a large man used to intimidating others and had a history of violence, though what the spirit said resonated in an odd way.

“So, Jorn” I said calmly. “you really want to stop a member of the watch in the execution of their duty?” I asked. I hoped he would take a swing. I was far faster than he was and would not mind impressing on someone that bullied others that size wasn’t everything.

“Pfah! Children playing at being adults!” He growled at me. I shrugged. “And yet you” I paused and pointedly looked at several others in the group “and any who would join you will spend real, adult time in jail.” I nodded, smiling wryly at him. His shoulder muscles tensed. A calm descended over me as it always does before a battle. Everything seemed to become sharper, crisper and slow down. Knowing him he could explode at any moment.

It seemed to take a moment for that thought to crawl its way across his mind, but he rallied drawing himself up. “I’ll not allow necromancers to walk free in my village!” He cried sounding almost patriotic, raising his fist as he looked around at the others around him which dutifully nodded their encouragement at him.

“You intend to stop the necromancers by stopping the watch from doing its job? How does that work?” He sneered at me and drew back his hand as though he planned to backhand me but before he moved or responded I heard heavy steps come from the alleyway I had come down. Jorn glanced over my shoulder and relaxed.

“Dad. We have this.” Ocran said tiredly as he approached. While Jorn was large, Ocran was huge. Jorn hmphed. “Glad you’re here! We made sure no one’s left the…” he paused a moment and his face lit up as inspiration struck. “Necromancers nest!” he cried dramatically “We can hold out here while your team goes in.” He said nodding, looking at those around him encouraging them to agree with him.

“We have this.” Ocran reiterated. “Go home everyone.” He added making shooing motions at them. Most of the group turned and walked away. Jorn glanced around “Yea! You heard Ocran! He and his team have everything under control!” He called at the groups retreating backs. Oh that really just burned me up! It wasn’t good enough when I told them. They needed someone twice their body weight to tell them. Shaking my head I stormed up the stairs, grabbing Evan by the elbow roughly and steering him into the house.

“We’re going to go locate the rest of the family, Evan.” Evan simply turned a curious look on me then he winced as my grip tightened and I jerked him toward the door. That just made me feel worse. Now I was being the bully, I sighed inwardly. “Sorry” I sighed and loosened my grip as we stepped across the threshold.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Silence greeted us as we stepped into the house. “Mrs. Silversmith!” I called. I glanced around at the shiny, rich wood floors. The ornate carved framework and trim. There was silver inlaid in the flooring and accents in the trim throughout the large house! Silver! In the floor! That’s crazy. So this is what it’s like to be rich and powerful, I thought to myself shaking my head.

The Silversmiths are reputed to be key in the mythology surrounding the founding of this town. Story was that the founding group had staggered into the clearing at the base of the mountain in need of rest and food. On the other side of the clearing stood the Mountain and Forest Lords. Greater spirits surrounded by denizens of their realms. Trolls, kobolds, stone men and such for the Mountain Lord. Boar, stag, bear and sundry other animals for the Forest Lord. The group was charged with trespassing, their lives to be forfeit.

Twin brothers came forward making themselves an offering to the two Great Spirits. They would serve or die willingly if they let the group go back the way they came. The two Great Spirits communed in their fashion and accepted the offerings. The Spirits vanity had been addressed in the offerings and it seemed they were interested in seeing how humans acted and lived. Each of Spirit touched one of the brothers, chaining them and their blood to the place and Spirit that touched them. In return they would allow the people to settle here.

The Forest Lord drew a line in the forest floor. A river sprang up in the mark. This would be the forest boundary of the town. The Mountain Lord scooped out a section at the base of the mountain with his hand, extending the area into the base of his mountain. This marked the boundary on his side of the town. Both offered their realms bounty to the brother they touched. The Mountain Lord poked a hole in the mountain beside the town. This was a silver mine that was given over to the brother touched by The Mountain Lord. The Forest Lord gave hunting rights within his forests to brother he had touched. In return the town would respect and honor the two lords.

At least that was what I remembered of the myth. Regardless of its truth the Silversmiths were the preeminent family in the town. When there was silver it flowed through the Silversmiths. The silver dried up with the death of the Mountain Lords chosen. The Forest Lords chosen left Silveren, leaving their family in the Silversmith house and was never heard from again.

A sound called me back to the current situation. Evan had plunked down in one of the chairs in the living room, lost in his own thoughts, concern and worry plain on his face. The living room was spotless and orderly. Everything seemed in its place as I scanned the rooms. The house was kept spotless. Houses like this creep me out. They look like no one lives in them. Always seems kind of eerie to me. Like the people living there were just ghosts, unable to interact with the things around them. I sauntered through the dining room and into the kitchen.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, a door to the yard faced the wood at the back. Little traces of silver seemed to weave in and out of the patterns in the wood of the door frame. I took a moment to admire the intricacy of the work. Movement through the window caught my attention. I watched two figures racing for the woods. As Solern and her daughter made it to the edge of the woods an unnaturally large buck stepped out to greet them. They put their hands to its side and it led them into the forest.

I shook my head. If the Forest Lord was involved no one would be able to find them which I guess is good. Being a Lord of Life he would have no tolerance for necromancy, so that said something about them as well. I chewed on the thought of the Forest Lord, an ancient, greater spirit that hadn’t played a role in this society in many human generations, involving its self as I continued the now mock search. Spirit involvement was trouble, the greater the spirit the greater the trouble.

“Is the place always this clean?” I called out. There was no answer. I could hear quiet movement in the living room. Heading back to complete the downstairs circuit I popped open the pantry, wondering at the ornate door frame. This frame even more ornate than the back door. They must love their pantry. That pantry was packed! I gazed over what had to be the results of decades of canning. Glass jars of many different shades and hues covered the floor and shelves in orderly little color coordinated rows in this narrow room.

Shaking my head I closed the door and approached Evan. He was standing in front of a desk. The desk had to be Crai’s work. No one could make wood flow and look as seamless as Crai. The man was not so much a craftsman as an artist whose medium was wood.

The house was furnished, as to be expected, very nicely. Graceful legs and arms and plush cushions greeted the eye wherever you looked. What I didn’t expect was at least five different pieces from Crai. His work was legendary and carried a hefty price. The pieces looked seamless when closed, handles, latches and lids becoming whorls in the wood requiring close inspection to find all but the most worn of them. Even for the wealthy Silversmiths I was impressed.

I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised, money and power has its privilege. People in the poor quarter work their tails off, some only in hopes of filling their bellies, while others coast through life because of an accident of birth. I’m not saying that some of those people in the poor sector didn’t earn where they are, but all of them had to make choices that people like the Silversmiths would never be faced with and would never understand.

We had just finished looking around upstairs. I turned to Evan and said “Looks like they’re out. Perhaps visiting relatives elsewhere?” I asked. Evan’s looked at me, searching my face for something and finally nodded.

His face went hard. “What will you do with me?” he asked his voice coming raspy and harsh. I replied “I’m thinking it will be safer for you down at the Mayor’s jail right now.” His face pinched a moment in distaste as he thought about this. After a moment he sighed, “Yea, that’s probably best.” He said, shaking his head

The lines on his face softened as he asked “Is Garen…” the words catching in his throat. The boy’s eyes begged for an answer that I could not give. He deserved to find out without an audience.

I shook my head, mouth tight. “He’s dead, Evan.” He glanced at me when I called him Evan. For a moment he was completely still, eyes wide, then he grabbed his head, tears streaming down his face, sobbing as he sagged to his knees. Ugh. I’m terrible at comfort. I reached down, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sor-” I started.

“SHUTUP!” Evan yelled, hands to his shaking head “Why?!?... Nononoooo” he trailed off, slumping forward, his elbows hitting the floor. I stepped back, drawing back my hand. I sighed and sat on a nearby chair to wait the rage and sorrow out.

The rage and sorrow eventually burned out leaving a hollow, hiccupping shell. I led Evan down the stairs and out the front door. Evan’s head was bent forward, back bent as he shuffled forward.

Thankfully the crowd was gone. Ocran’s large frame easily taking up the space that a few of the crowd had taken. Mowris stood to his side. Her face troubled, looking over Evan. Evan’s head never came up, he was lost internally and had no time for trivial external details right now.

Ocran nodded to me and turning, walked forward. Evan and I fell in behind him, Mowris brought up the rear as we walked toward the Mayor’s jail.