Alric stood in front of me with a grin plastered over his face as I laid on the ground. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell you why he was so happy. George was unalived and I had nearly died.

“Mana fatigue feels quite nasty, doesn’t it? You came quite close to death, but you’ll live. ” said Alric. He kicked some stray bones aside that were leaning up against my body. If I could see myself, I would see an ugly looking almost but not quite dead man. The blood had begun to dry in some places and coagulate in others. My skin was pale, but that was likely from the lack of sunlight down in the cave.

“Is George…” I asked.

“I’m afraid George is no longer unalive. Although his bones are still intact, the monster’s stomach acid was impressively fast at dissolving his flesh. While George wasn't perfect, he turned out to be the best minion I had.”

“And you threw him away, like you almost threw me away?” I bitterly spat.

“To gain anything of worth, risks must be taken and sacrifices must be made. I had faith that this time would be different, that you’d succeed. To you, it might seem like I was frivolously throwing you and George into the jaws of death. But the knowledge I gained will benefit the world so much that it is worth a few deaths here and there. Also, you made it out alive. You did something most people won't do in their entire lives.”

“Seems to me like sending the undead to face Malkor is a death sentence for them. It was certainly almost a death sentence for me. To me, it seems pretty callous to throw around people’s lives like they aren’t worth anything.”

“What do you know about rot and decay? What do you know of the mind slowly malfunctioning until there is no thinking?” Alric's voice rose, as his anger grew. He gestured at his skeletons. “These bones might stand on two feet, yet they are just as alive as the stone we walk on. If anything, what you did saved George; it saved the countless undead I'll raise in the future. Their lives were worth this cause.”

"Are you sure this knowledge is all that it's cracked up to be? Malkor told me, as he died, that the Dark One would inevitably kill us. I don't want to end up dead; I don't particularly want to lead other people to their deaths either."

"That lizard doesn't know what it is talking about. Trust me, when I say that the Dark One is a rare force of good in this world. Simpletons fear change, but change brings opportunities to forge a better world. There will be countless sacrifices on our journey, but the end result will make their sacrifice meaningful."

I grunted, the disagreement evident in my tone. I hoped that he was right. My mana sight was useful. If the Dark One had provided me with that, then maybe there was something worthwhile in what Alric had asked. Although, the madness associated with my mana sight concerned me. I didn't, particularly, want to go mad. I had more ambitions than wandering small villages aimlessly, shoe-less, while babbling about things that didn't quite make sense. That was what mad people did; that was how you ended up friendless and bullied by a group of farmers who were angry about their lack of harvestable onions. The lack of Onions was always blamed on the babbling guy.

“There was a time when Necromancy was studied and used just like any other form of magic, before King Sirius created the decree to ban the ‘dark arts’. A lot of valuable knowledge has been lost to time.” Alric continued.

“So you wanted to learn from the Dark One to maybe stop your undead's decay?”

“Yes. And don’t feel too bad about George’s death. While George is no longer unalive, he is far from dead. If we can solve the Dark One’s ritual quick enough, then we might have time to bring George back before his soul is taken to the underworld. There is one small problem.”

I perked up. “And what’s that?”

“I don’t have all the necessary ingredients for the ritual. Some of the more common ingredients like Dragon’s Bane, Saliss Root, I can get my hands on out here in Mudville or the surrounding villages. While small villages are perfect for evading the King’s scrutiny, they aren’t good for acquiring rare goods.

What I need can only be found in the Capital. Even then, it will be hard to get access to it without drawing too much attention or without knowing the right people. Even I don’t know where they keep it. You’ll have to make some underworld connections, in order to locate where the vial is hidden.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“What, exactly, do you need? Tell me this time. No more of this, I can’t tell you because that wasn’t what a fetch is about nonsense. I won’t even consider helping you unless I know what I’ll be doing.There should be some apprenticeship laws putting me in constant danger.”

“But you’ll do it for George.”

I let out a heavy sigh.

“Yes, I’ll do it for George. But only after you tell me what it is that I’m looking for.”

The truth was that I felt guilty for George's death. There must’ve been a way to keep him alive, a better way of dealing with Malkor. I almost felt like I had been the one to have killed George and there might’ve been some truth to that, even if I wasn’t the one to digest his bones into gloop.

I had learned my lesson, and wasn’t going to fall for the same trap of going in blind like I did last time. I didn’t want to get eaten by strange creatures, let alone face one. I knew that cities typically didn’t have mythical monsters roaming around, but it was never a safe bet to trust a shady necromancer entirely, whether that be Alric or the Dark One.

Alric hesitated, but after some thought opened his mouth.

“I guess there is no point hiding this from you. Don’t go around asking random strangers about it. You’ll attract the wrong crowd doing that. It is best if no one knows what we’re doing, and I don’t just mean the Necromancy. Keep that quiet as well. From rumors I’ve heard, the Church runs the city, and they make a sport of impaling our kind.

I need a vial of blood from an ancient human named the Enlightened of Armure. He’s considered by the church as a near god-like figure, someone who fought against the tide of the dead during King Sirius’ rule. I don’t know why I’d need the blood of a saint, but the Dark One didn’t elaborate.”

“So I need to steal it?”

“Probably. I don’t care how you get the vial. All I care about is that you get it. That brings me to another important point in your training. Stealing is a necromancer skill that you’ll need to learn. It is not something easily taught. Practical experience will do you more good.”

“Shouldn’t I be stealing something less important? Seems a bit risky to start with a coveted holy relic.”

“Well, do you want to save, George? The Blood of Armure is what we need.”

“Well, erm, I do.”

“Then that’ll be what you have to steal. Pressure breeds success. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Alric smiled, but it wasn’t the smile of a happy man. It was the smile of a sad man, trying to pretend he was a happy man. The smile did not reach his eyes. I wondered what exactly was causing him to be so reckless; I wondered how short my lifespan would be if I continued this apprenticeship.

I groaned as I tried to lift myself up.

“No. No. You shouldn’t be moving. Your body is already over taxed.”

Alric snapped his fingers and a skeleton came over to me. I think I recognized this one from the catacombs, but they all looked pretty much the same. I was no expert from discerning among the mindless undead. He stuck his bony arm under my armpit and heaved me to my feet. I used him as a crutch to stand.

I looked towards what was left of Malkor. With his body in pieces, the army of undead had to continually stab the beast to keep it from reforming. Flesh was being dumped into large wooden crates and carried to the surface. I wondered if it was truly dead. There, among the carnage, was a mangled body that I guessed was George. The army of skeletons had pulled him onto a makeshift-stretcher.

The skeleton holding me upright, pulled me forward. I slowly climbed the stairs out of the underground cavern. I squinted at the bright light of the sun. Azog sat on a rock, looking into the cave, or maybe he was looking at me. Azog looked remarkably calm, as he watched the skeleton hoist me to the surface.

“I didn’t think to see you here.” I commented.

“Well, I wasn’t here for the last couple weeks. I kept my word when I said I’d wait three days before heading back to my Inn. I had customers that needed booze. Couple days ago, I got a strange letter reaching out to me about an excursion that would pay me extra to keep my mouth shut. It was too good of a deal to pass up.”

“How much is that uptight necromancer paying you?” I asked.

Azog smiled and rubbed his hands together.

“Two whole pieces of silver. It’s more money than I’ve made in an entire year running Coward’s Brew. I didn’t expect to see you here. Figured you fell down a cavern and got stuck. That’s why I don’t go down these types of caves. Does all this have something to do with your, uh, apprenticeship?”

“Yeah, it was one hell of a cave. And, yeah, you could say that this was for my apprenticeship.”

“I take it you're not exactly working as a gravedigger. I should've known something was off when you were traveling with that dagger, instead of a shovel. We all have our secrets.” Azog clutched his large two handed sword tight.

“I guess we do.” I paused. “How much do you charge for a bit of traveling?” I asked. I figured I could get Alric to spot the bill.

“Depends on where you plan on going.”

“I want to go to the Capital to do some sightseeing. I’ve always heard that you can find interesting things there.”