Seron knocked on the door to the house she was told to visit. It was technically within the borders of Ghan, the self proclaimed “Capital of Necromancy” it was a mostly rural city despite its title. Probably because it originally started as one of the non-places similar to where she and Vaughn grew up, only this one was made into a haven for necromancy back before it became legal. Ghan was rather remote but it had been expanding for some years now to become a proper city. Progress was fast thanks to necromancy’s great use for basic labor.
The house itself was around average size, looked like it was a step above something one would see in a trailer park. There wasn’t another home in sight, just woods and a dirt road leading up to it. The outside was a light red color and a car was even parked nearby. There was a grill out on the lawn, Seron knew from the smell that it was just recently turned off.
“Ah! Hello Seron.” Vaughn said as he opened the door while dressed in fairly plain casual clothes.
“That’s the first thing you say? I hand you over to them then the only thing I hear for weeks is a simple text saying you’re alright but don’t listen to the news, and that’s the first thing you say?” Seron asked.
“What did you expect? It took a lot just to get them to let me send that message. I had to build up a lot of trust to let them allow you to visit. Now come on in, I made us lunch.” Vaughn said as he beckoned her inside.
The interior of the trailer was incredibly unassuming, like Vaughn hadn’t even put up any decorations of his own. This was all deliberate by the council as they didn’t want anyone who stumbled onto him to suspect who he really was. Vaughn went along with it since he was used to hiding. Though he was never that good with decorating anyways.
Vaughn sat down at a table with a plate of burgers that he had cooked up. Seron sat down with him and took a bite. Vaughn explained that now that he has more free time, he took some lessons on cooking. Seron couldn’t complain about his progress, even if she hadn’t had a chance to have some of his cooking before this.
“I watched the trial, how is life now that she’s out of the picture?” Vaughn asked.
“Deinia’s possessions and assets that weren’t stolen from the prince are now all legally mine since I’m her only living relative. I got some pretty neat stuff and even a fancy home in Deepworld. Though I don’t know if I’ll be spending much time there. I think it’s because I’m just not used to living somewhere like that, I got too much of my dad in me.” Seron said.
“Did you find out anything about him?” Vaughn asked.
“I did! She gathered information on him over the years. I contacted his family and gave them some closure, even found out I have cousins! I’m going to go visit them soon.” Seron said.
“I’d love to come with you, but I’m not allowed to leave town right now.” Vaughn said.
“Yeah, about that. So tell me what all of this is about?” Seron asked.
“Well of course! You’re my sister after all!” Vaughn said as he looked at a particular corner of the trailer.
“Is this place bugged?” Seron asked.
“Of course it is. They were probably all wondering why the hell the same hunter who turned me in is now eating a meal with me.” Vaughn said before looking into the same corner. “I just wanted to help out my sister since I was turning myself in anyways.”
“So I assume they took your deal reluctantly?” Seron asked.
“It was just too good to pass up. I’d gift them necromancy knowledge beyond their wildest dreams as well as my full cooperation, and I get to help them with it. Still learning to trust me though.” Vaughn said.
“Is that why they told us all that you had been executed not long after you texted me?” Seron asked.
“It was easy to fake my death since I had no prior documentation when I walked out of that hellhole of a hometown. Plus the council wanted to put the other magic communities at ease by making them think they don’t have access to my magic.” Vaughn said.
“That sounds kind of shady.” Seron said.
“Trust me, necromancers have not done anything like what the other schools of magic have done. I hear the druids do some really freaky shit.” Vaughn said.
“So, what’s life like now?” Seron asked.
“I head into town, help research soul anchor theory and resurrection, also I’m working on a detailed guide to my special necromancy.” Vaughn said.
“Isn’t that what they didn’t want? Knowledge of it being spread?” Seron asked.
“The criteria to achieve it is really specific. Even if it did get out, only a small percentage of necromancers could achieve it. The whole thing is a convoluted process that I’m unsure if it can be replicated anywhere but at the bottom of the Goddess’s Bottle. We’re going to work on testing that.” Vaughn said.
As they ate, Vaughn explained his situation further. Despite their initial hesitations, the necromancer council was glad to have Vaughn working for them. The discovery of the true nature of souls and soul anchors was simply revolutionary. Not just necromancy will benefit from this, but many other fields of magic too. There were already expert wizards from all schools of magic being brought in to consult on potential theories.
Vaughn however, would not receive any official credit for this. Due to wanting to keep the fact that he’s alive and cooperating hidden, they had instead allowed for the late Sumeria to take credit. She was posthumously un-exiled and the discovery of souls and soul anchors was officially said to have come from her and passed to the council via an interrogation of Vaughn.
As far as the public knew, Vaughn was killed by the necromancer council. Now he had been given the name Nyle Keaton. All of his ties to his former life were now gone, his criminal contacts all believed him to be dead and the small hideout he lived in prior was seized by the council. Seron was the only remaining tie to his old life left.
“So, should I do something with that drive you gave me?” Seron asked.
“Give it a few months, make sure they don’t try to pull anything. Then I’ll tell you to get rid of it.” Vaughn said.
“Well, I’ll have to pop by for a visit whenever my work takes me nearby.” Seron said.
“You’re still bounty hunting?” Vaughn asked.
“I was never in it for the money, I’m good at it and I love it. Plus with the combined money I got from mom and your bounty, I can stop whenever I need to.” Seron said.
“Ah, lovely. Once I’m allowed to move into the main town, I’ll try to live a somewhat normal life for once.” Vaughn said.
“Could you even call this normal?” Seron asked.
“Eh, normal-ish. Better than how it was before at least.” Vaughn said.
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Cyreen could see the familiar sight of her coven’s camp through the trees. The two large demon escorts stood behind her as she stopped to stare. The Swampbloods were right where she knew they would be, meaning they’ve had no major trouble since she left. Sensing the two demons were feeling uneasy in the swampland, Cyreen turned to them and said they were dismissed. The two demons bowed and rather quickly turned around to head back to Deepworld.
Cyreen walked closer and closer, the voices and sounds she missed so much becoming louder. She knew the intruder detection spells the coven put up would have sensed the demons, so they were watching that direction. The second she stepped close enough for them to recognize her, numerous witches all ran out with excitement to greet their lost sister.
The younger witches all missed her dearly and ran up to hug her. Cyreen could barely hold back her tears as she welcomed the embrace of her family. Of course they all had tons of questions. How did she get away, what was the demon prince like, what did she do, why were her arms red, and many more.
The questions were cut short when the elderly head witch Mistress Grei approached her surrogate daughter. The witches let Cyreen approach Grei for a mutual embrace. She asked to see Cyreen’s arms and looked at the masterful blend of demonic and Cyreen’s flesh. Then she looked Cyreen in the eyes with a smile.
“You must have quite a story to tell.” Grei said.
“I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to let you all know I was alive. I was just…. So afraid of leading them to you after what they did to me that I-” Cyreen began to say.
“You have nothing to apologize for. Keeping our location secret is exactly what saved your life. They would have killed you the moment you told them. You’re the reason we’re still here today.” Grei said.
“Thank you, for understanding.” Cyreen said.
“We held a funeral for you after we all thought you had died. Hearing you were still alive was the best news I’ve ever heard.” Grei said.
“Well did you hear that I helped hire some crazy geomancer to kill all of those witch hunters?” Cyreen said.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“That’s up there I will admit. Now come on, you must be tired from coming all this way. Let’s sit down for some lunch and you can tell us all what happened.” Grei said.
Having been deprived of her Coven’s cooking for so long, Cyreen practically inhaled the bowl of soup she was given. The entire coven listened to Cyreen describe the past six months. Everything from breaking out of the prison to breaking back into it with the portal scroll. Some of the older witches made comments about Lavor and Cyreen possibly being an item, she assured them they are simply friends. Besides, Lavor was far too busy being prince to even have anything more with Cyreen.
Some of the witches would have assumed she was exaggerating if Tsilo hadn’t helped confirm some of what Cyreen was claiming. When he stayed with the Swampbloods, they of course asked him how Cyreen was doing. He told them what he knew and as soon as he heard Deinia was imprisoned and Lavor was prince again, he decided to return to Grict. Though he did mention he would likely relocate after what had happened. He did arrange for help so the coven could retrieve any items looted by the witch hunters that Yara had killed, as thanks for taking him in.
It was late afternoon by the time all the stories were told. Cyreen’s old caravan was being used for storage since they had lost some in the previous raid. The coven helped clean it out, all of her old things were still inside. They weren’t willing to get rid of any of it yet, which was good for Cyreen. She filled her lungs with the familiar smells of her home and sat down on her bed. It couldn’t compare to the soft beds of the Deepworld Palace, but the feelings it brought her were far beyond anything she had there.
Cyreen felt like she had been running for months and was now able to just stop. She may not be the same person she was before both mentally and physically, but she thought it was worth it. She lied down and closed her eyes to soak in the moment. She had finally come home, and she was going to make sure they were kept safe for as long as she lived.
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Yara was outside working on a new woodcarving of hers. She was in a rather good mood today thanks to the evidence against Clarita finally being exposed to the public. With cooperation from Queen Yanadeyis, all existing compounds were raided and everyone involved was currently awaiting a harsh sentence. All of the people abducted had been recovered as well, along with a record of those who had not survived. All across the world, people are dragging Clarita’s name through the mud along with all the aliases she used over the years.
Of course it was quickly pieced together that her killer was a previous experiment seeking revenge. They still had no idea of her whereabouts, but not a lot of people are really looking for her anymore. Not that they could, not even Yara’s neighbors knew about her. The only people still trying to hunt her down were friends of the various criminals and witch hunters she killed over the years.
Yara was carving something to commemorate the event. A replica of the small insect creature who finally allowed Yara to close this chapter of her life. She had no idea if they would ever meet again, but she still wanted to show her thanks. Even if it would probably never know about it.
Sumai called Yara inside, saying there was someone here who wanted to talk to her. Yara asked who they were and Sumai said he claimed to be an associate of the other geomancers with her ability. Yara was wondering when they would pay her a visit again. She dropped her tools and headed in. Sitting next to Sumai was a dwarf, Yara hesitantly sat in a chair facing him.
“Who are you?” Yara asked.
“I am a reporter and an associate of mine is one of the crystal geomancers. I recognized the magic used to murder D'Sawunn and I was directed to you. I understand your…. Situation and I don’t wish to disrupt it. All I want is your side of this story.” he said.
“Why does my side matter?” Yara asked.
“From what they found at those labs and what was observed about your activities over the years, it’s not hard to figure out you’re a result of those awful experiments. I promise to keep details about where you are and who you are as a person confidential.” he said.
“You think people will want to know my story?” Yara asked.
“This murder and exposure is the hottest story right now. Even larger than that necromancer who was killed.” he said.
“Alright, I’ll tell you. Just know that all I want now is to live a quiet life with the one I love. So may the gods help you if your story ruins that.” Yara said.
“I fully understand the risks. I’ll send you the censored copy before I publish just so I know it’s good.” He said.
“Alright then. Let me tell you how that monster got her hands on me….” Yara began to say.
Yara then recounted the entire tale of her origin to the dwarf. His recorder made sure every word was caught as Yara told him all she knew. Sumai was reluctant for Yara to continue, as he knew recalling her past could cause great distress. To his surprise though, she was handling it much better than before. She was still trembling and hesitating at times, but she had never been able to go on long enough to tell it all in one sitting.
Yara spared no detail from her story. Some things the reporter was hoping was simply exaggerated by the media were then confirmed to be true. No other successful experiments like Yara had been found, so she offered her unique perspective on what she now was. She did omit much of the details of her magic though, that’s best kept a secret.
By the end, the reporter looked like he may have wished Yara went lighter on the details. But he knew it would only help the story by keeping them in. With the interview over, the reporter decided to leave. Somewhat due to fear of Yara, but also because he wanted to write and edit this as soon as possible.
Once he was gone, Yara decided to brew some tea to calm herself down. She wanted to get back to woodcarving and she needed to be in a stable state of mind for it. Sumai waited beside her in the kitchen as the water boiled. He was amazed at how quickly she got better once Yara came home. She still had a long way to go, but now nothing was holding her back.
“So, I was wondering. Say you do reach some sort of mental state you’re fine with living in for the rest of your life. What then?” Sumai asked.
“What do you mean?” Yara asked as she poured herself a cup.
“Say you get as better as you can be, do you have any plans for what to do after that?” Sumai asked.
“You know, I haven’t really given it some thought. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.” Yara said while pausing to take a sip. “But I do know one thing. I’m the only one controlling where I go. No person nor my own past is going to say otherwise.”
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Hictor slowly opened his eyes. Every sensation his body felt was strange, unknown smells, the taste of the air was weird, and even his own fingers felt odd. He felt like he had just woken up from a coma, just keeping his eyes open was a struggle even if he could barely see anything. His head felt cloudy, still processing the thoughts bouncing in his head.
He gradually remembered a rooftop. Then a man beating him but barely hurting him. Then he felt a kick, followed by the sensation of his body being ripped apart at the seams. A split second of his body bursting like a bomb and then nothing. His mind began to wonder, did he die or did the machine work?
“Are you awake Hictor?” a familiar voice said.
“kkrrrragh…. Ulphaa….” Hictor said as he almost seemed to have forgotten how to form words.
“Just take it easy and try not to freak out. I’m going to enable full motor control and sensory input, I can stop it at any time if you just ask.” the voice said.
Hictor’s vision instantly cleared up. His body suddenly felt easier to move. It was as if someone had given him an adrenaline shot. He looked around, he was lying on his back in some kind of strange room. The ceiling looked like it was grown instead of built, like the massive cocoon of some sleeping insect.
Hictor held up his hand and realized it was not his hand. It was brown and insectoid, four clawed fingers and an arm with chitinous plates. His other arm was the same, he sat up and saw his legs were different as well. He looked around the room and saw Torrid standing beside the shallow pit Hictor was lying in.
“Welcome back Hictor.” Torrid said.
“Torrid? What is…. Oh god, did I do this!? Did the machine backfire and mess with my reality!?” Hictor asked.
“No, the machine never finished its job. You died, remember?” Torrid said.
“Oh gods, I did die. That thing I summoned, it messed with my mind and you had no choice in the end but to have me killed.” Hictor said.
“It saddened me to have to resort to that, but I did. That entity’s influence should be removed from you now.” Torrid said.
“So…. How am I here? And why am I like this?” Hictor said as he looked at himself.
“I knew every inch of your mind before that thing messed with it. That information combined with the technology of my people, I was able to essentially transplant your soul into a new form. Apologies if your body isn’t to your liking, it was the closest shape we have to what you were.” Torrid said.
“T-transplant my soul? You can do that!?” Hictor asked.
“The necromancer happened to learn the truth about souls in your reality. When he arrived I peered into him and saw what he knew. One thing the machine was doing was pulling your soul into your physical body, it was just a matter of me holding onto it when I was sent back home.” Torrid said.
“Wh…. Why did you save me?” Hictor asked.
“Because I admired the man you were. Also I felt sorry for the situation you were in. So, instead of death, I offer you this new life. Free of your past misdeeds, you can learn to live among me and my people without worry of anything Hictor Lindstrum has done.” Torrid said.
“W-wow. I uh…. That’s a lot to take in.” Hictor said.
“On the other hand. I know I did this without your consent. You should feel something attached to the back of your neck. That is the interface between this technology and your body, just give the word and you will perish. It will be instantaneous, painless, and I will understand completely.” Torrid said.
Hictor reached behind his head and felt an organic cord sticking out of his neck and into the floor of the pit. He contemplated this offer, wondering if he was even worthy of taking it. He had skinned his old companion, agreed to help two horrible people with their dirty work, and mistreated the summons he had relied on for so long. Even though he could blame all of that on the entity’s influence, he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for refusing to give up the crystal and all the trouble it caused.
“D…. do you think I even deserve this? After all I’ve done?” Hictor asked.
“You said it yourself, there was no life left for you back there. No chance to redeem yourself. We can’t undo what you’ve done. But I can at least offer you a chance to be better here.” Torrid said.
Hictor slowly stood up with his new legs, trying to figure out how to work the alien nervous system he was now stuck with. Hictor saw a large mirror on the wall next to a window and looked at his reflection. His new body didn’t look too different from the bugfolk in his world. Two legs, two arms, mostly humanoid shape, it was at least easy to figure out. He could tell he was smaller since Torrid now came up to his waist instead of his knees.
“Dear lords, I’m as tall as my dad.” Hictor said to himself.
He looked out the window and saw an alien world just like how Torrid had described when Hictor asked about their home so long ago. It was strange, inhuman, and completely unlike anything he had seen before. Most people would be afraid, but Hictor looked with wonder. No matter who or what he was, Hictor Lindstrum loved to discover new things. He felt the cord on the back of his neck and saw Torrid standing beside some kind of biomechanical computer.
“What do you think?” Torrid asked.
“I think it’s more than I deserve.” Hictor said.
“Probably. But we’re the only ones who know that. Not even your gods could reach across universes. As far as anyone here knows, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Torrid said.
“Well then, how could I refuse?” Hictor said while trying to figure out how to smile.
“Great to hear that my friend. Come with me to my home, I’ll help you get adjusted.” Torrid said as it pressed a button and the cord painlessly disconnected from Hictor.
End.