It's odd how normal this has all become, Aris thought to himself early one morning as he lay in bed with Raizia.

Their one-night tryst had quickly become a regular occurrence. Soon he wasn't just showing up to her place out of obligation; he actually missed being around the necromancer, with her odd humor and biting laughter and dark eyes.

Their days had settled into a new pattern. Aris would typically arrive in the afternoon, where they would eat lunch and joke around a little before delving into the magick-work, learning to cast more ambitious spells with each other. They'd practice late into the evening, and Aris would often stay over, sharing her bed—sometimes just to sleep, other times for fun, all the times enjoying Raizia's company.

And then, in the early hours of morning, he would return to the inner city. For the first few weeks, he didn't have much in terms of obligations—with his mother's passing, he was entitled to a mourning period. But soon he was expected to return to work, so he would change into his Commander jacket and attend the board meetings with the King, discussing the latest happenings on the front and what their next move against Zirhag would be.

And once the meeting was over, he would leave the inner city, meet Raizia, and the cycle would begin again.

Aris made a move to leave the bed, but Raizia—who he thought had been fast asleep—opened her eyes at his slight movement.

"Going so soon?" she mumbled, her raspy morning voice giving him a smile.

"I have to go to the Cathedral today, remember? For my brother's service."

"Right. Forgot what day of the week it was." She leaned forward and kissed his nearest body part, which happened to be his forearm.

He stroked her hair, letting her fall back into her early morning slumber, and finally excused himself from her bed.

Aris reached the Cathedral just in time. The church was already packed with the congregation packed into the pews. Not wanting to disturb anyone, he found a spot in the back near one of the aisles.

His brother was standing in the center of the cathedral, his long white robe bathed in the colored lights of the stained-glass ceiling. And next to him was a casket.

Another funeral, Aris thought with a frown. Usually the weekly service was just that: a normal service dedicated to the seven gods, over within an hour. But it seemed that nearly every time Aris had come to the Cathedral in the past few weeks, there was a new casket in the center of the room, a new grieving family in the front row, and another ceremonial burning of a body, filling the air with smoke.

It was emotionally draining to attend so many funerals in a row. Despite the fact that his state-sanctioned mourning period was over, Aris was still mourning the death of his mother. Seeing yet another casket made his stomach flip.

Miss you, Mom, he thought to himself, wondering if his mother could hear him.

Aris sat through the service dutifully, trying his best to ignore the strangled sobs of the woman in the front row. It was clear that whoever died had been fairly young, probably in his 30s given how young the widow was. And based on the comments that Brother Caleb was saying, it was clearly unexpected.

Finally, the body was aflame and the service wrapped up. Aris hung back at the end of the service, waiting until everyone—including the grieving family, carrying the burnt ashes of their loved one—had filed out of the Cathedral.

He approached Brother Caleb, who was rubbing his face wearily, dappled in the colored beams of light.

"Hi Caleb."

Caleb looked up, a little startled. "Aris," he said. "I didn't realize you were here. I didn't see you during the service."

"I was sitting in the back. Got in a little late." Aris glanced down at the floor, stained with the soot from the ceremonial fire. "Another funeral, huh?"

"Ninth one this week."

Aris blinked. "Nine?"

"And I have another one this afternoon." Caleb shook his head. "It's too much. There needs to be an end to all these murders."

"Wait—murders?" Aris asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Sorry, perhaps 'murders' isn't the right world. But surely you've heard of the 'plague' or the 'sickness'? Something is striking people, killing seemingly at random, without warning. One second someone will be okay, and the next, dead."

Aris suddenly recalled Zaidi's whispers from that day in the market. He had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Raizia, and remembered how her voice had changed when she had first mentioned the deaths. "Yeah I have heard of that. I just didn't realize it was ramping up. It's never been discussed at any of the commander meetings."

"People are trying to keep it hush," Caleb said with a roll of his eyes. "They're trying to stop the panic. But I think it's finally going to come to an end."

"Really? How?"

"The priests have been doing autopsies, for all the bodies. They think they've found the source of the murders—it's a dark force, summoned from another world. And there's only one person in this city who has the magicks to pull that off."

Aris felt like his heart was suddenly seized by an icy hand. "You mean the necromancer?"

Caleb nodded. "Dark magick corrupts."

For a moment Aris struggled to form together a coherent thought. This can't be, he thought. The Raizia he knew could never have done something like this.

But then he remembered that night in the graveyard, and the words she had spat at him in the darkness: "You're forcing me to open a portal to somewhere where something evil can escape!"

He had lied to her, forced her to resurrect his mother despite the fact that she had been dead for seven days. And because of his lie, she had inadvertently unleashed something dark into this world.

It was all his fault.

"What are they... going to do to her?" Aris asked, his mouth dry.

"Likely capture her in the next few days. Force her send the dark spirit back. Have her pay for her crimes."

Pay for her crimes... Aris could only imagine what that meant.

"Well," he said, trying his best not to reveal his racing heart to his brother, "I'm glad there will be an end to this soon."

"Me too, brother. Me too." Caleb sighed. "I should go. Prepare for the next funeral."

"Me too—go that is. I should... go." And with that, Aris turned, and did his best not to run out of the Cathedral at a mad sprint.

There was a sudden banging sound on Raizia's door.

The necromancer raised an eyebrow, surprised by the intensity of the noise. When it continued uninterrupted, her heart started to race.

Where is Aris when you need him, she thought to herself, looking down at her missing finger. This was precisely the opportunity where she wished she could still practice magick on her own.

She grabbed a candle in one hand, and a heavy pan in the other—makeshift weapons if she needed to try to get away. And then she opened the door.

As soon as she did, Aris rushed inside the apartment, eyes wide.

"Aris!" she shouted, realizing in that moment how frightened she'd been. "You scared me!" Then she saw his face: wide, frantic eyes; twitching fingers. It was terrifying to see the stoic soldier so unnerved. "What's wrong? I wasn't expecting you so soon—"

"Raizia, we have a problem," Aris said. "Remember that plague that Zaidi was talking about? The one killing people without warning?"

"Yes? What about it—"

"They think it's from you. The King, the priests, the higher officials—they think you summoned it from another world and set it loose in the city."

Raizia raised an eyebrow. "That's preposterous."

"It's not," Aris said, rubbing his face. "When I forced you to summon my mother, we did summon something dark. It took over my mother's body. It attacked us."

"But I sent it back!"

"I don't think your spell worked. I think it escaped, and it's been killing people. And..." He closed his eyes. "I think the King is going to come for you."

Raizia didn't quite know what to say. Her mind was overrun with competing emotions: indignant anger, confusion, denial... but most strongly, shame. Oh gods, she thought to herself. I did this. People have been dying because of me.

Aris seemed to regard her face mournfully. "I can try to talk to the King, but I don't know how much sway I'll have on him. When Erran makes up his mind..."

"No, don't talk to him. That won't fix anything," Raizia said. She looked at the timepiece hanging on the wall, calculating how much time until sunset. "Good thing you got here early. We need all the time we can get to practice."

"Practice?"

"Tonight we're going back to the graveyard," she said, trying to hide the quivering in her voice. "And we're going to banish this spirit for good. Now come on—let's get to work."

* * *

Happy Sunday! I couldn't sleep so I decided to finish writing this chapter! I'm excited for the last few chapters of this novella--any ideas about what's going to happen next? I'm looking forward to a bit of action... 

Thanks for reading and for all the support! -Bdicocco