Sumeria’s necromancy operated on a strange restriction. Anyone using it could only summon a single type of person. She claimed this voluntary restriction was vital to the process of learning it. Cutting oneself off from other options only strengthened what remains. At least that's how Vaughn remembered her saying it.
Sumeria had chosen construction workers as her restriction. Vaughn had asked her why she didn’t choose something like soldiers or other wizards. Sumeria claimed that she intentionally crafted this necromantic art to avoid summoning them. The larger the potential force, the weaker the magic is.
She always taught that necromancy was not a magic made purely for combat. The sheer utility it can provide to the world had always been overshadowed by madmen using it to try and take over whatever they pleased. It was why the art had been banned for nearly all of history. If the creator of this new type of necromancy was shown summoning armies from the dead out of nothing, it would have pushed necromancy further down into that pit.
For that reason, Vaughn had chosen his restriction to be Vaudeville performers. Having read about them and even exploring a dilapidated theater in his hometown, Vaughn had developed a fondness for the antiquated form of entertainment. It allowed him to access a limited but incredibly diverse pool of people to draw forth like strongmen, animal tamers, acrobats, wizards with flashy magic, duelists, and so many others. That was why Vaughn was seeking the Forsworn Theater. That wizard who caused the disaster, they would be needed in the future.
In order to be able to reanimate someone at all, he needed something the performer has personally made. All of these theaters had every performer sign their name in their records before being allowed to perform, a signature fit this criteria just fine. Sumeria had sent one of her laborers to scale the bottle and return with one left behind in the theater Vaughn enjoyed. The same pages from that book resided in his pocket. The signatures were carefully cut out and pasted onto sheets of the small book Vaughn carried. Surprisingly, necromancy was very adept at restoring paper, so even though it was very old it would still hold up fine. Vaughn even got the entire selection laminated to further protect it.
He walked through the dark tunnels, Sandau walking beside him holding a flashlight Vaughn had brought. The tunnels had stopped being the smooth refined corridors one would expect below a city and are now beginning to look like they were dug out by some sort of machine. He obviously wasn’t the first one to visit this place since it was buried. He had encountered little in the walk since leaving the nightclub. Only the odd vermin and ratfolk, who he suspected made these tunnels to begin with. They’re a simple people, but one should be wary when in their territory. Thankfully their territory ended some ways back.
Vaughn saw the barely exposed entrance to the theater come into view. The entrance was boarded up at one point in the past but the boards seem to have been strangely cut through perfectly, as if someone brought an electrical saw down there for whatever reason. Vaughn looked at the cuts and saw they had aged quite a bit, these cuts were by no means recent. Etched into the wall of the tunnel is a warning likely left behind by a previous visitor.
“It still resides here, but it only exists when others describe it. Otherwise it lives as a curse. Turn Back!”
Vaughn knew what he was getting into. He was prepared for anything. He took a long drag from his cigarette before plucking it out of the holder, flicking it onto the rocky floor behind him, and immediately replacing it. Then he walked straight inside with Sandau behind him.
The interior was dark and Vaughn felt a sudden sense of dread. He grabbed his wand from his mouth and cast a simple light spell, a bright ball of light appeared and hovered in the air above. The inside was even more wrecked than Vaughn had thought, nearly everything aside from the stage and the walls had been removed, just a few stray rocks and boards were all that was left. He noticed a strange lack of cobwebs, as if even animals avoided this place. The feeling of dread was not going away even with the lit interior.
Vaughn grabbed his wand to reanimate the duelist and the ventriloquist. He ordered the duelist to guard the entrance and the ventriloquist to guard the main hall. Vaughn and Sandau walked towards what he guessed was the entrance to the offices. The feeling of dread seemed to emanate from that room since once they entered the aging hallway it had subsided. He had no doubt the creature that wizard had summoned was still there.
After having accepted death previously during his fall into the Goddess’s Bottle, he found very little to actually frighten him. Though he would admit this place was starting to creep him out. They found a sign labeling a door as the manager’s office. Sandau easily kicked the rotten door off of its hinges. Thankfully the office was mostly intact, things were just dusty and aged.
He looked through the drawers of the desk, quickly finding the recordbook. It was old, crumbling, and yellow. Vaughn cast a simple necromancy spell onto the book and watched it gradually regain a more youthful look. He opened the book to the last page to be written on. He looked through the names of the performers and saw the name he came here for. Being satisfied with his findings, he tucked the book into his jacket and walked out. He decided to look through the book later to see if anyone else in there could be useful.
Then Vaughn stopped in his tracks when he saw it. The face of the beast summoned that night staring at him from the door to the main hall. Knowing its summoner’s name must have been enough to draw it to him. The beast was not attacking, nor snarling. Just staring at Vaughn with its menacing gaze. Sandau stood at the ready to defend him, but Vaughn told him to stand down. Vaughn walked closer to the frightening beast, stopping just before he would walk into its reach.
“I know what you want. You’ve been stuck here for ages, stuck in this room full of nothing. I know your pain, I know how much you must yearn for escape. Have no worries, I shall end it.” Vaughn said to the beast.
Vaughn was taught a spell by Sumeria, one that can dispel any summoned creature so long as you know the summoner’s name. Since necromancy was structured very similarly to summoning magics, she felt it was essential to teach him this. Vaughn grabbed his wand from his mouth and began making short motions with it in the air.
“I return you from whence you came.” Vaughn said as the creature was bathed in light.
Once the light had cleared, the beast was gone along with the feeling of dread. He felt he had done some good just now. He walked out and saw both the duelist and ventriloquist torn to pieces. He dispelled them but kept Sandau by his side. It was time to leave this horrid place behind.
When Vaughn made it back to ratfolk territory, he told them about ridding the theater of the beast. A scout that had been watching Vaughn’s entrance into the theater confirmed it, having witnessed the dispelling himself. Ecstatic that they could now explore and inhabit the theater for themselves, they gave their thanks to Vaughn and offered him a reward. All he asked in return was to be shown a way out of the tunnels, as Vaughn had suspected the nightclub might be swarming with police by now. Finding another exit was probably the best choice. One of the scouts volunteered to guide him out.
Within the hour, Vaughn found himself in one of the massive cisterns under the city. This one was vacant unlike the one he had heard of that was inhabited by demons. The ratfolk had clearly dug into this place for easy access to the surface since the tunnels led straight here. It was also used as a place to deposit dirt and stone from digging, as he could see by the massive piles just outside the tunnel.
“Just walk to other side. You’ll end up in canal, right in the sun!” the rat said.
“My thanks. I can handle it from here. But before you go, take this.” Vaughn said as he handed the stolen playbill that was carefully placed in a plastic bag to the rat. “I sort of stole this from the museum in order to find the theater. They’ll most likely reward you for bringing it back.”
“Ooh yes! The rats thank you, you have helped us greatly this day.” the rat said happily before scurrying back into the tunnel.
Vaughn looked at the entrance to the cistern on the opposite side, easily a quarter mile from where he stood. Sandau was still at his side, since Vaughn was still worried about anyone hiding in this massive place. With all the thick concrete columns in the way, there are plenty of places to hide. Still feeling satisfied with what he had accomplished today, Vaughn began walking.
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He saw a surprising lack of people in the chamber; he had expected to see homeless people making use of the space down here. Maybe the ratfolk made for bad neighbors, or maybe it was just a bad place to live. Whatever the reason, there wasn’t anyone here now. Vaughn kept walking towards the exit and trusting Sandau to respond to any threats.
As he walked, he suddenly felt an unusual feeling. He turned around just in time to see a shortsword being plunged into Sandau’s neck by someone who was practically hanging onto the front of him. Vaughn didn’t have much in terms of close range magic to defend himself with, which is why he reached into his coat and pulled out a collapsible baton.
The person twisted their blade and nearly decapitated Sandau, his neck now a gaping wound that was made even more unsettling by the total lack of blood. They kicked off of Sandau’s head as they jumped off of him, causing it to hang upside down against his back with what little was still connected. He won’t be able to fight properly if his head is dangling like that. Sandau swung his fists aimlessly in the air as the assailant walked around him to get a look at Vaughn.
A green hooded poncho with a black mask that was featureless save for a pair of white eyes, Vaughn was familiar with this faction of bounty hunters. The hunter dashed towards Vaughn, he barely was able to catch her blade on his baton. She practically tackled him to the ground with the strike. Vaughn managed to kick her off and quickly stand up.
“Heard you were tough. But I figured if I could get you without any of your minions, I’d have a good chance of taking you down!” She taunted.
Vaughn was about to inhale to resurrect someone to help. Then he noticed she had stolen his cigarette out of his wand. She had grabbed it when she tackled him, the huntress held it in her free hand before dropping it and stomping it out. He didn’t have time to take out and light another one and Sandau was pretty much useless in his state.
“I know they give me an edge, but I’m no slouch myself.” Vaughn said.
“Do you know how much you’re worth? How many have died trying to take you in? You’re a damn formidable target and I expected no less from you.” she said.
“Just out of curiosity, you trying for dead or alive?” Vaughn asked.
“The Necromancer Council wants alive. But they’ll accept dead. Though I’m not actually trying for either.” she said.
“Then what other option even is there?” Vaughn asked.
“Information to help in further hunts.” She said as her left hand suddenly produced a strange glowing symbol from her palm.
Vaughn felt a pull upwards, he could feel his hat get yanked off his head. She had summoned a small magical hand to grab into his mask. Vaughn could barely react before his mask and glasses were pulled off his head, they soon fell to the floor beside him. Vaughn’s face was now fully exposed, now he knew she was sent to see his face so they could track him better.
He expected her to say some taunt, but she didn’t. Instead the hand holding the sword started trembling, needless to say he was not expecting that kind of reaction. She tossed her sword at Vaughn, the pommel hitting him square in the chest. As he was stunned from the sudden impact, she grabbed the blade out of the air and pinned him against a pillar with the blade to his throat.
“You fucking…. You knew I was coming didn’t you! You had this prepared!” She shouted.
“Huh, what?” Vaughn asked, thoroughly confused.
“Well guess what asshole, you’re not the first mage to mess with my mind by using fancy illusion spells to look like my brother. He’s dead, that’s a fact. You can’t fool me!” She shouted as she pushed the blade closer.
“Wait, Seron? Holy shit is that you!?” Vaughn asked.
“Don’t you fucking play those mind games with me!” She demanded.
“I’m not! I’m just shocked is all. I haven't seen you since I left to go to the top of the tower!” Vaughn said.
Instantly her grip loosened and dropped Vaughn, she stepped back but still held her blade. She took off her mask to reveal the face Vaughn had thought he would never see again. She’s older now, with a few scars as well that weren’t there before. Vaughn put away his baton and looked his sister in her orange eyes.
“How? You couldn’t have gotten that information from a spell and I haven't told a soul about the tower.” Seron said, clearly looking distressed.
“Because it’s me, Vaughn! Joseph threw me into the tower but I survived. I saw the bottom of that pit and lived there for two years before I was able to escape!” Vaughn said.
“How the hell could you have survived that fall?” Seron demanded.
“There are otherworldly things down there Seron. Just the land itself seemed to affect the world. I don’t know how I survived since I blacked out during the fall, I think it was just the magic aura there somehow cushioning me. I wasn't unscathed but I was alive. I swear I’ve tried to look for you but we both know how hard that was.” Vaughn said.
Seron dropped her sword and tightly embraced Vaughn. She let go and looked him in the eyes, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. She had accepted that Vaughn was dead long ago, but now the only family she cared about was there again. Vaughn too felt overjoyed that he was with his sister again, though he wasn’t displaying much of that feeling since he was too busy thinking about why she had been trying to kill him earlier.
“I…. I didn’t think you could have survived.” Seron said.
“I didn’t either.” Vaughn said.
“Oh god, you saw the town didn’t you?” Seron asked, suddenly looking worried.
“I saw your message by our old place. Seron…. What happened?” Vaughn asked.
“Joseph came for me right after he killed you. The bastard was bragging about it too. I don’t know what came over me, but it was some kind of demonic rage. Everything became a blur as I felt strange magic welling up inside of me. It was all destroyed by the time I came out of it.” Seron said.
“And Joseph?” Vaughn asked.
“I found him impaled on some rebar.” Seron said.
“That’s good to know. But also concerning since you were trying to stab me not long ago.” Vaughn said.
“Oh gods. I…. You're an incredibly wanted man! Every bounty hunter guild in the city is trying to find either you or that weird summoner guy. They sent me just to find out who you were and possibly capture you. Gods I almost slit your throat!” Seron said, suddenly looking concerned.
“Like I said, there was some weird shit down in that pit. It’s how I learned to do this.” Vaughn said as he pointed towards Sandau who was still stumbling around.
“That doesn’t explain the bank robberies you helped cause.” Seron asked.
“I can explain those. But first I think we should get out of here before any of your friends show up looking for you.” Vaughn said.
“Oh gods, what am I supposed to tell them!? I can’t turn in my own brother!” Seron asked.
“Just keep your cool and say you couldn’t find me. It’s reasonable and expected. I’ve been evading them for this long anyway.” Vaughn said.
“Fine. But as soon as I can, we are sitting down and you are going to explain yourself to me.” Seron demanded as she picked her sword back up.
“I’m currently staying in the Piled Motel room #31. I’m heading straight there and I’ll be there the rest of the day. I’m only saying this because I trust you not to tell your friends about it.” Vaughn said as he picked up his things and lit a new cigarette.
“I’m not saying anything until I hear some answers.” Seron said.
“Good, because if you do sell me out. Sandau will rip them in half.” Vaughn said.
Seron looked behind her and saw that Sandau’s neck had been healed by Vaughn’s magic. The man three times her size stared her down with his blank eyes. Seron knew how strong he was reported to be, that's why she attacked him first. She felt this was sufficiently intimidating.
“Okay. I won’t tell them. Besides, I read the reports from other hunters. You’re not exactly someone we could attack with numbers alone.” Seron said as she walked with Vaughn towards the exit.
“Speaking of that. You really didn’t suspect anything when you went after a necromancer named Vaughn?” he asked.
“I had accepted you were dead for years and you’re the fifth Vaughn I’ve gone after. I had no reason to think it was you. Frankly I’m kind of upset you never tried to contact me.” Seron said.
“Well I had no idea where you went and we don’t exactly have surnames. Not like I could have gotten far.” He said.
“Speaking of that, Sock-Buskin? You gave yourself one of those hyphenated surnames?” Seron said.
“I had to put something down as my last name. Got it from the old owner of the theater I liked so much.” Vaughn said.
“Fair enough.” Seron said with a smirk.
They reached the exit and decided to head separate ways. Seron assured Vaughn she would visit once she reported back. Seron used magic to enhance her movement and rush back to wherever her coworkers were. Vaughn dispelled Sandau and calmly walked home. He felt a great sense of accomplishment from today.
He finally reached the theater and miraculously found his sister again. She was the last person Vaughn expected to run into here. He decided to stop by a store on the way home, get some snacks they had in their childhood. Vaughn hadn’t felt this happy since Sumeria gave him a reason to live. He had no intention of messing this up.