“Classically or self-taught?” asked Hypatia.

“Classically!” Leonidas said defiantly.

“Is that the first thing you want answered?” Silvius asked, bewildered.

“I’m with him on that one,” Leonidas said, pointing to Silvius.

“Why thank you,” said Silvius.

“Tell me you don’t fuck dead people,” Benkin said, leaning back and wrapping his arms tightly around his torso.

“No,” Leonidas said calmly, “But sadly I have known some who have. And it’s disgusting.”

“And you let him into our group?” Maeryn asked Cid. “Necromancers defy every facet of life and nature itself, they commune with demons who bring chaos and ills upon the world.”

“You weren’t saying that when I was putting you all back together,” Leonidas fired back heatedly.

“And gods knows what hexes and curses you put on us all when you did it!”

“I do not do curses!” Leonidas shouted his voice echoing off the walls and he began stepping towards the archer.

“Knock it off, or I’ll knock you both out!” Jeanne ordered, getting in between both of them.

“My kin hunt down these dogs and put them out of their misery before they summon hordes of the damned to wipe out villages,” Maeryn said to Cid, “and you welcomed this man into our company?”

“Jeanne vouched for him, and he has pulled his weight,” Cid said in a calm and firm voice.

“I’m with Maeryn,” said Benkin. “My father had to put down a rebellion led by a necromancer, you didn’t think bring this to the rest of us before?”

“Unless you want to choose to forget, the man came rushing in on short notice because we all were wounded from our first fight,” said Kveldulf, “and the man saved my life. And for me, that’s all that matters.”

“He’s put me back together more than once,” said Jeanne, “even when he would’ve rather done the breaking.”

“Hypatia,” Cid said to the sword-singer, “what are your thoughts?”

Hypatia bit her lower lip and rubbed tip of her boots on the floor while scratching the back of her neck. “I’m not happy this was how we found out about this. But, he didn’t have to come when he did, and he didn’t have to stick around. And … he did save Kel’s life.”

“Then why does he hide what he is?” Maeryn dared Hypatia.

“How about you ask that question to my face, if you have the gall,” Leonidas replied.

Maeryn shot him a fierce glare.

“That’s what I thought. But I’ll answer anyway. You know how many towns I saved from a plague wiping them out, and when they get the faintest idea of what I know, they chase me out with pitchforks and torches? More than I can count. I’ve saved the lives of people I’d wouldn’t piss on if they were fire, but I did it because it was the right thing to do. What’s more, most people don’t even take the time to know me when they do learn, only judging on what little they know about I’m taught in. Which I’m sure you haven’t experienced since you came here.”

Maeryn leaned back and turned her gaze away.

“Still, you have to admit a lot of necromancers have caused problems,” said Benkin.

“Most actual necromancers know well enough not to draw attention to themselves. Those who do cause problems, like the one your father dealt with, are usually amateurs. Usually a egotistical prick who thinks after they’ve read a book or two, they mastered the field. Plus, they always have some superfluous chip on their shoulder for some damned reason.”

“He’s not wrong,” said Hypatia.

“How did you find out?” Silvius asked.

“My grandmother was a necromancer, she never told me her rituals, but she taught me how to spot a fraud.”

“And?”

Hypatia shrugged. “The doctor isn’t faking it.”

Silvius hemmed for a moment. “I guess that’s good enough for me.”

“I’ll give him a chance,” said Benkin.

Cid turned to Maeryn. “And you, Maer?”

Maeryn said nothing, only nodding.

“So …,” Silvius said to Leonidas, “you’re a necromancer … that would explain a lot.”

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“Why does everyone keep say that?” Leonidas asked.

“Because you’re insane,” said Jeanne.

“You would know that,” Leonidas replied.

“So … do you raise dead people?” asked Maeryn.

“Firstly, I don’t resurrect people. Most necromancers don’t, for a few reasons, but this isn’t the time. Second, I do not consort with demons. Most of them are arrogant, a few are just assholes. And don’t get me started on their deals. Third, I do not resurrect. Four, I don’t go digging beloved family members or household pets for experiments. And five …”

“No resurrecting?” interjected Kveldulf.

Leonidas paused for a moment. “No … and now I can’t remember.”

“So, what do most necromancers do if they don’t resurrect people?” asked Hypatia.

“We mostly commune with deceased spirits. Hell, even our title means divination of the dead. And bringing a person back to life can, like I said, bring a lot of complications. Usually dire ones.”

“And that trick you did on the door?” Kveldulf asked, his mood less confrontational.

“Oh, that was from training I had was on handling creatures, lesser demons and other varieties of monsters. I specialize in those that effect a person’s physical health.”

“Don’t all possessions do that?” Maeryn asked.

“It depends, but it still leaves a long list of spiritual squatters to kick out.”

“Well,” said Silvius, “That could be advantageous in situations.”

“I do have one more question,” Kveldulf asked, “Why didn’t you use more magic when you operated on me?”

“I only use enough to see what I was doing. Not everyone reacts well to magic, despite what most people like to think. So, I try to use practical means as much as possible.”

“Oh, that makes a lot of sense.”

“I try to, though most days a bit of a challenge.”

“So,” said Maeryn, pointing to the door, “Should we open that door anytime soon?”

Leonidas pressed his hand against the door for a quick moment. “No, we still have some time. Shouldn’t be too long, though.”

As the door finally cooled down, they slowly opened it to find a pile of ash where the corpses were. Moving into the room, everyone circled around the ash pile carefully trying to avoid disturbing it.

“At least the smell isn’t as bad,” said Cid.

“The wonders a large fireball can do,” said Leonidas.

“You’re welcome,” said Jeanne, before pointing towards the pile.

Kveldulf noticed a smooth stone on the far end of the wall with a symbol etched into the stoneface. He moved over and examined it closely. Silvius came over and knelt next to Kel. “Hmm,” Silvius hummed, rubbing his chin.

“What do you make of it?” Kveldulf asked.

Silvius pulled back before looking at Kveldulf. “It’s the heraldry of The Wraith King.”

Kveldulf looked back to the sigil. His brow furrowed together as he looked upon it with a growing fire in his eyes.

“Do you think this means he’s returned?” Benkin asked.

Cid pulled out a pendant from the pile of ash, The Wraith King’s symbol clearly displayed. “I do not know, but this is leaving me with little doubt.”

Leaving the room, Leonidas and Maeryn turned their noses up, sniffing the air.

“Oh, that’s odd,” Maeryn said.

“Anything of interest?” Silvius asked.

“Possibly,” Leonidas replied, moving up the stairs to the floor above them.

On the third fourth floor they found woven tapestries, statues of warriors, kings, poets, and deities standing tall on pedestals, bowls, pots, and furniture richly colored and elaborately etched with detailed designs. The floor was covered in white marble with light blue veins spreading all throughout the area. Even their lightest steps caused echoes to softly go from wall to wall.

“What is all this?” Benkin asked.

“Some of these go to the days of the Fabled Age,” Silvius said. “These should be in museums!”

“I think this is one, Sil,” Hypatia said to him.

“Seemed like this Wraith King was an adamant collector in anything and everything,” Benkin said, examining one of two large sailing vessels.

One with a large rectangular sail where an azure six-pointed star rested in the middle with one square behind it with crescent moons positioned on its cardinal directions and smaller stars placed in a square behind that placed on the intercardinal directions. The second had a triangular sail with the design of a red and black dragon curling outward with its claws facing the eastern side.

“A real collector, all right,” Benkin said, walking back to the others.

Up to the next level they found the grand living chamber of the castle. The floor was covered in black soapstone with gold accents within the veins. A four-corner post bed with thick blanket draped over the mattress rested on the opposite end of the room. On one part of the curved wall, a mirror framed in red oak and hung near several stands with clothing still hanging form them. Near that was a golden bath tub with towels resting all around the floor beneath. There were several shelves of books and scrolls that almost glittered in the light of a chandelier hanging from above. The candle still flickering and illuminating the room below.

“How are those still lit?” Hypatia asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Jeanne replied.

“Come on,” Cid said, “we should keep moving.”

On the final floor was a vast laboratory. Tables lined in neat rows. Covered in white linens and instruments of alchemical, astrological, runic, divination, portents and other facets of magical research. The walls were lined with book shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling, each row filled with tomes, journals, scrolls, and piles of notes and parchments. Ladders rested on highest level of the shelves, connected to rails to keep them from falling over but allowing them to slide over to other parts of the room.

On many of the tables were jars with severed limbs, heads, organs, from man, elves, dwarfs, gnomes, halflings, felidans, and a multitude of others races throughout. Kveldulf saw one hand being shocked with small bolts of energy, forcing it to twitch briefly. A small pocket mirror laid on its back, a dark purplish color covered the glass as Kveldulf looked seeing. Little eyes opened themselves up and he heard a whisper in his head saying, “play with us.” He stepped away and spotted a journal with its pages opened. Leaving through the book he came the drawn image of a child before and after experimentation. Kveldulf turned his head away, placing his hand over his stomach and feeling his stomach turn inside.

“Where’s Rett’s wrath when you need it?” said Kveldulf.