The morning was more abrupt than usual. Hugo was usually awoken by the warm feeling of sunlight seeping through an open window. This morning it was the fist on his room door. Bang bang bang.

“Already? Motherflame protect me.” Hugo, in a panic, grabbed his usual attire. He fastened the metal buttons on his long brown cloak, grabbed a knife he’d placed on the bedside, and opened the door ready for anything. His preparedness had gone to waste, however, as beyond the doorway weren’t guards or mercenaries, but a very angry Elizabeth, all dressed and ready to depart.

“The Bartender, Bernard said you were a late sleeper, but this is ridiculous.” Hugo glanced up at a clock in the hallway. Noon, it read.

“I had a very long day. You see my belongings were stolen from me-” Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and headed back down the steps.

“Right. Let’s just head out soon. I’ve never been to the capital!”

Hugo was surprised at Elizabeth’s confidence, remembering the scared girl he interrogated yesterday. Hugo walked down the tavern steps, thoughts still jumbled after just waking up. Bernard stood behind the bar, as usual, this time taking apart some new contraptions. Elizabeth beckoned him outside, impatiently.

“Ok, give me one minute,” Hugo said with a note of exasperation. Bernard chuckled, looking up from his work.

“Oh, to be young full of vim and vigor.” Bernard sighed, becoming a bit more serious. “You’re putting that girl in terrible danger, she at least ought to know the full story.” Hugo pursed his lips and looked down at this greyed hand ashamedly.

“Then what? Let the girl resume life as a street urchin? Or even worse, we both get caught by the Lumian Church she’s executed along with me for being complicit?” Bernard took off his spectacles and began to clean them with his shirt.

“At least give her a choice,” Hugo said nothing. He thanked Bernard for the meal and the food and set out with Elizabeth.

“Alright. We head for Rothel.” Hugo said assuredly, Bernard’s words eating at his conscience.

“It’s about time. Where’s your wagon?” Hugo laughed at Elizabeth’s remark.

“Wagon? We’re walking.” Elizabeth’s mouth was agape with shock.

“That’s at least like- like three days of walking!” Elizabeth felt tired merely thinking about the long journey ahead. Hugo chuckled but didn’t reply. The two set out from Belont’s North gate and said goodbye to the city. Outside of Belont, miles of rolling hills stretched before them. The two bantered with each other, as the hills and farmland eventually morph into large oak trees and the two set foot into a dense forest. Screeches and rustling vegetation enveloped the soundscape as the two stayed mostly silent, feeling some unease. With the silence too much to bear, Elizabeth finally broke.

“So, Rothel? Why are you heading there.” Hugo pondered a moment, deciding the best way to answer.

“I hunt necromancers. Rothel is a hub for other necromancer hunters.” Not wanting to be vague, Hugo fished out the burnt satchel from his cloak. “This belonged to a necromancer, and I have an old friend who might be able to tell us more about its’ contents.” Elizabeth was satisfied by the answer, and the two ventured deeper into the forest. Though it was still midday, the canopy above shaded them from most sunlight. As time went on, it became increasingly hard to tell the time of day.

“Does your family hunt necromancers as well, then?” Elizabeth inquired, her curiosity was piqued as she gleaned more information little by little. Hugo, who after weighing his options felt this conversation was better than the alternative silence replied.

“They were, yes. Some of the best in the business.” There was a somber note behind Hugo’s words, but he did his best to sound conversational. Elizabeth, however, picked up on the air of melancholy surrounding Hugo’s parents.

“I bet they were proud that you continued their legacy.” Hugo scoffed.

“I was expected to continue my parents’ work.” Their conversation was cut short by an unusual silence, even the birds and insects made no sound. A pronounced rustle came from from beyond the trees. A guttural, almost melodic hum echoed throughout the forest. Hmmmm Hmm Hmm Hmmmm.

“Hide. Now!” Hugo ordered in a harsh whisper. The two strayed off the forest path, opting to hide in some shrubbery not far away. Their pulses quickened as the source of the humming came into view. A wiry man, dressed in black robes dragged his feet along the path. His skin was a dark grey, and in his hand, he held a rusty chain. Hugo’s eyes followed the chain and his eyes widened. At the end of the chain was a rotting corpse being strung along as it walked obediently. Hugo looked over to Elizabeth who was even more shocked.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Is that?-” Hugo clasped his hand around Elizabeth’s mouth and nodded, but it was too late. The wiry man turned towards their direction and opened his withered lips.

“An unexpected audience, perhaps?” the voice droned. The man spoke in rasps as if speaking for the first time in ages. The man turned and spoke to the corpse on his leash.

“Orville, fetch.” The wiry man dropped the chain, and the corpse, Orville, began to lurch in the direction of Elizabeth and Hugo, its feet dragging against the hardened dirt. Moments later, the creature was a mere breath away from finding the two. It’s stench reeked of scum and rotting flesh. Elizabeth covered her nose with her arm, stifling a gag. Hugo had taken the time to ready his blade, and without warning lunged at the monster, knocking it back. The wiry man turned towards Hugo and gave a raspy cackle. “Dinnertime, Orville!” The creature, Orville, began once more limping towards Hugo, who planted his feet, preparing something. As the undead grew closer, Hugo began to mutter an incantation under his breath. The wiry man’s eyes widened as a sudden realization hit him. However, before he could act, the undead transformed into a bright light, before dissipating into wisps of ash.

The wiry man seethed with anger but stood shocked. “You. Betrayer of the dark arts. Death comes for those who forsake its will.” Hugo ignored the wiry man, who cursed and hissed.

“I am nothing like you, necromancer.” Hugo gripped his blade and lunged at the wiry man, who fell onto his back. Hugo fell forward onto the man, and the two grappled for a moment until the wiry man spit in Hugo's eye. Hugo reeled, and the man took his chance, attempting to wrestle the blade from Hugo's grasp. While they fought the wiry man began to mutter something under his breath. A black mist rose from the ground, materializing into a translucent gray figure. While the creature looked intimidating, Hugo couldn't help but smile. The misty apparition had yet to fully materialize, meaning the creature was little more than a shadow.

"Nothing left in your bag of tricks, then?" Hugo taunted the necromancer. The necromancer didn't reply, intent on prying the blade from Hugo's grasp, but as the necromancer lay on the ground, his movements slowed, exhaustion had finally caught up to the withered man. Hugo began to push on the blade, slowly driving it towards the necromancer's heart as he struggled in vain. The necromancer's muscles tremored with effort as the blade grew closer still, its tip drawing blood. With one last heaving effort, Hugo plunged the blade into the necromancer's chest. The necromancer convulsed. The useless apparition dissipated, and the black mist that he once controlled began to seep out of every orifice as if being sucked into the earth. All that was left was an empty husk, which crumbled into dust like the necromancer's creation. Even the blood staining Hugo’s blade evaporated before his eyes. Hugo breathed a sigh of relief. "Elizabeth, it’s safe to come out” Hugo called. Elizabeth peered out from behind a tree. Once she saw Hugo relief washed over her.

“What was that thing?” She asked, curiously. Hugo diverted his eyes towards a pile of tattered rags, all that remained of the necromancer.

“That thing was a reanimated corpse who was lumbering around with its master it seems.” As the two calmed down, Elizabeth who had been processing what she had seen, including the sudden evaporation of the undead.

“Why did it disappear suddenly? What did you do?” Elizabeth was beginning to feel wary, an uneasiness began to set in. Hugo nodded, realizing he could no longer avoid the subject.

“I exerted my command over the corpse and forced the spirit to release.” Hugo looked at Elizabeth hoping he would not need to elaborate.

“But isn’t that technically-” Elizabeth felt her stomach drop. Hugo pursed his lips, then took a deep breath before replying.

“Yes, It's necromancy. I am a necromancer.” Hugo said ashamedly. Elizabeth regained her composure, remembering that Hugo had saved her life more than once now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Elizabeth was hurt. Though they’d only known each other for mere days, the betrayal of trust was gut-wrenching. Hugo spoke once more, hoping to mend the situation somewhat.

“I thought you would turn me in. Necromancy doesn’t have the best of reputations.” Elizabeth nodded absently. Hugo used the silence to dig through the necromancer’s belongings. Inside a pocket was a small wooden token depicting what looked to be a summoning circle, commonly used by necromancers to harness the powers of undeath. “We must hasten our journey to Rothel.” As the two made their way through the dense forest the silence continued. Hugo occupied his thoughts with theories. This emblem. I’ve seen it used before. Another necromancer, maybe? He continued to wrack his brain on the subject but gave up when the forest gave way to a small clearing. Suddenly his thoughts changed to reflect his increasing desire for rest. “Let’s set up camp, here.” Hugo surveyed the area, satisfied.

Later that night, with the campfire set up, Hugo and Elizabeth were finally able to lounge. Without warning, Elizabeth finally spoke.

“...I understand why you didn’t say anything.” Hugo couldn’t manage a reply, so settled with a quick nod in agreeance. Elizabeth took it as a sign to continue.

“What’s it like? Being a necromancer who hunts necromancers, I mean.” Elizabeth did her best to lighten the tension, trying to sound cheery. Hugo replied, his voice barely louder than a mutter.

“I imagine it's much like being a regular necromancer hunter.” Elizabeth furrowed her brow.

“That was a dry response.”

“I know,” Hugo replied, dryly.

As the embers of the campfire began to cool, the two were already fast asleep, preparing for a new day.