Chapter Twenty One: Learning and Growing and Breaking

XXXX

What? What happened?

I looked around, surprised by how empty the void was. It was dark and grey, shades of more grey light passing through what I suppose was the sky. I took a breath......wait, there was nothing. No air, no taste, not even my chest was moving. Where am I?

The black glass ground made no noise as I walked across it, looking for any signs of where I was at, what I was doing here. Putting my hand over my eyes, I had a strange sense.....

Mina!

I scrambled in a panic. Where was Mina! We were just together, summoned by our boss to kill a man. What had been his name.......Night? Whatever, Mina was there, fighting beside me.

Then things went blank, as though life had been ripped from me.

Oh. Oh no.

I died. But if I died, and if Mina died, she should be here too. Where was she? Did she not die somehow? Was she alive? Did she live while I'm stuck here in this endless void?

Taking another step, I fell to my knees, screaming. It was rushing back, all of it. My memories, even the ones forgotten. Every sense, emotion, pain, smile. It was like an endless knife stab to the heart. Am I suffering this alone? What of Mina? Is she safe from this?

"No, young one. I'm afraid not."

I jumped. The voice came over head, soft and strong. I glared upwards. "Where am I?"

"Well......I don't know. I haven't exactly found that answer. Close, I'm close." The voice sounded sad, like it'd make it better if he could answer. "So, ask the question."

"Is Mina safe?"

Silence. Then a cough. "No, not that question. And she's not. Up next, her turn. But the more you waste time, the more she suffers. Young Hellen, please hurry."

Mina's face came to mind. Her precious smile. Loving features. I wilted, pain coursing through everything. I missed her, missed her so much.

"Then ask the question. And you'll see her again. Your memories are making me sniffle. So cute you two......" The voice sounded sad, like he wished for none of this. I would weep for it later. "I'm sorry that you had to die. Please, ask. I've never like the magi, but even I support Love. Not exactly my department, but hey, I guess close enough right?"

Question?

I wanted the pain to stop, but after seeing my deeds laid before me....

"Forgiveness. That's all I ask. Please, give me forgiveness."

The voice sounded loving. "Smart girl. Shame, you weren't able to stop--nevermind. You are forgiven. Oh, young Hellen, I am sorry. Though, consider yourself lucky. Not everyone in the future will get my full attention."

I wanted to ask my own question.

But then peace found me, and I smiled.

********

The Sol Tourney. This week would be dedicated to the Sol Tourney, a huge event that takes up three days, bringing together the city in celebration. Food, tournaments, parties. All to show off the magi in their skills. The Tourney would have warriors showing off their abilities. Dinners to host scholars of every kind. I used to find the entire thing a waste of time, but since I have signed up for a dinner, I have been rushing to get my information together.

One can't be caught unawares during their best. If I am to try and relay knowledge about necromancers by this Azureday, I must hurry. I must only focus on this and this alone. There can't be distractions, or hindrances. Though, if you ask any real scholar, those are apart of the learning process.

I find processes to be useful. Which means issues to be found somewhere.

Giving another lecture about the Necromancer, I've now decided to include my information into the mix. True, it has not been very long, but I have witnessed much. So I find it necessary to give my own expertise.

"--one could conclude necromancers of old used to use fear as a way to subdue fights and show dominance. But with the lack of other necromancers to prove himself, the Last must attempt to use these tactics with others around him."

"Uh--yeah. I suppose so," Ditto said, blinking a few times.

The class sat silently, in what I could only assume in deep attention on the subject matter. When no one had any questions, I continued. "The Necromancer, though, must find ways to showcase his skills to try and claim ground in our highly competitive socioeconomic city. How would you suspect he does this?"

One brave student raised their hand. I pointed. She said, "Well, if you include factors of environment, and adaptation, you could conclude that trying to challenge a higher up, such as a Tower or Beam, would be the best way to do so."

"May I--"

"--Yet that would involve finding a way to challenge them," another student chimed in. "I would think he'd find a soldier and do battle."

"But soldiers aren't worth the time to fight. They're trained for demons. Not necromancers."

"There is the possibility he would just stay low," a different student said. "In case of failure."

"Hey, can I--"

"--You must also include the idea he is searching for power somewhere. The necromancers were known for that. So where else would one look than the elites?"

"What would you do if you were faced against a more powerful threat?" I questioned, loving the dialogue taking place. As a professor, it's hard to get real conversations sometimes. "You are to fight something you can't beat, what do you do then?"

"Woah--"

"Find some sort of shelter?" a woman called out.

"Or something bigger to fight against it?" another asked.

"Seriously, can I--"

"Interesting observations," I said. My pen clicked, letting my mind clear. "So which one then is correct?"

"Probably the shelter. What sentient being wants to befriend a necromancer?" someone else said. There were agreed mutterings. I found the talk to be amusing, giving a hint of a smile.

"Most likely. Finding sanctuary is important for any lost creature."

"Lost? Okay, I'd say--"

"Though how does one give sanctuary to a creature that's obviously out of place?" the girl who first began the conversation asked.

"You would place him in the obvious. Or at least give him a new coat or something," another said.

That got a laugh, and even I chuckled. Normally I try to keep less emotion to the jokes my students make, but I have to admit a good one when told.

"Alright first off, I'm not lost," Ditto said. "I've been here before. Secondly, you would hide among the rabble with the all intent purpose of kicking every single ass without hesitation. And I have very clear intentions here, so please stop assuming things about me."

The human Halina was laughing, getting a scowl from Ditto. I crossed my arms. "Then you admit to using fear as a factor for survival?"

"Yes. Because you magi are afraid of everything with a shadow, so it makes it easy to use that in any sort of advantage."

He received that statement with boo's.

I was about to silence them, when the top door opened. I glared up, and saw a familiar face. "Ah, Professor Nate. How can I help you?"

The man in the prim white suit and black tie smiled, adjusting his right eyepatch. "Heard the Necromancer was here. Wanted to say hello."

"Why, if it isn't Nate Hemming," Ditto said, smiling. "It's been a long time friend."

I flinched in shock. "You two know each other?"

Ditto was still smiling as the professor walked down the steps. The students were also watching with eager anticipation. The Necromancer said, "Yes. We met each other once, back on Earth."

"That was quite the adventure, if I ever say so," Nate grinned. They shook hands, and I could only imagine what kind of adventure those two would have.

Nate turned, eyeing the students. "So, what do you think of the Necromancer?"

"He's boring," one cried out. "How'd you guys meet?"

The professor, also a biology and science expert, shrugged. "Well, it's a long story..."

"Long?" Ditto looked confused. "I always wondered what happened to you. So you got a nice job after our encounter. Interesting. Ladies and gentlemen, how we met was when Nate tried hunting me for sport."

I let out a gasp, as did every student. No one was expecting his answer I think.

"Huh. All that was a long time ago. You almost kill me multiple times, and this is the greetings I get?" The professor let out a fun laugh, like he missed those old days. "You are too bold friend."

"Okay, I guess. Except you were trying to kill me, and sell me on the black market," Ditto responded. He scratched his head, as though unsure what to say next. "Huh. Then I'm curious as to why I called you friend."

"Because you've never held a grudge," Professor Nate said. He sent a hand through his slick grey hair. "Tell me, what brings you here?"

Ditto looked up at the students, and his eyes lit up. "None of your business. But for those of you who have the good professor, has he ever told the story of how he got his eyepatch?"

The class went wild, but I silenced them. "That is enough for today. Remember, your assignment is due next time we meet. Have a good day class."

And as they all walked out, Ditto shouted, "It was because of me!"

Soon only myself, Ditto, the human, and Nate remained.

The professor gave me a weak smile, then looked at Ditto. "If you'd be so kind, I'd like to speak with Ursula in private for a moment. Though, please don't hesitate to visit me at any time."

"Ha! Very well. Let's roll Halina. Nothing is worth this man's effort."

They left, and as the door closed, Nate turned to me with an intense glare. "You must have balls of steel to let this man here. To think I always considered you the smart one out of all these fools."

"What did he mean, Nate? You tried to hunt him?" I knew he never used to be a professor, but some sort of hunter? Illogical. "And I can do as I please."

He sighed, pinching his nose. "Well, since you can't ever prove this, I used to be a poacher. In my younger days. And during a hunting trip up in Earth, I had been granted the rare chance to hunt the last of a very, very unique species. Though, after that encounter, Ditto forced me to quit my poaching career. Shame, really."

Poacher? "Poacher! You used to poach!" I balled my fist, anger boiling up. "You monster. And you dare look me in the eye."

"Oh, you have no idea what you're dealing with Ursula. I went after that man with a hunting party of twenty-two." He took a deep breath. His lone eye was trembling. "Only two of us survived. He slaughtered twenty of my men and women. Including my only son."

I shook my head. "What? You think I can't control him? The Pillar can't control him?"

"The Pillar, Ursula, can't even match Ditto in greatness. Much less power. No, I don't think you can control him. In fact, I don't think this entire layer could."

"That isn't for you to judge."

He lifted a brow. "And it is for you?"

I said nothing.

He went on. "I'm just warning you to be careful. He butchered my men and women like pigs. It wasn't even a contest. I was only barely able to escape. I honestly never thought I'd see him again, and with everything going on - Triton, and the increase of demons - well, I'm sure his hand has played a part somewhere. Nothing is sacred to him. Nothing."

"Except death."

"True," he answered, seeming more grim. "True. Whatever he's told you, there's another motive you can't see. That none can see. This is no game of catch."

"When was this?"

"Over a decade ago."

Click. Click. Click.

"I'm fine. Thank you Nate." Grabbing my materials, I went for the stairs. Before even lifting my leg, my head turned an inch. "I'm......I'm sorry about your son."

I left then, clicking my pen in silence

********

Ditto was waiting outside the building, with a big dumb grin on his face. Still angry, I moved away from him and the human with an alarming speed. He caught up, cracking his knuckles and humming some unrecognizable tune.

"I have a guess as to what he wanted to talk about," he said.

"Somehow I feel as though my lingering headache is going to get worse," Halina muttered, rubbing her temples. "There's nothing easy with you."

"Fair point. And it's probably about how I killed his hunting party." We were walking to meet with Cameron and Katlen for an early lunch. I kept my eyes locked forward. "Yeah, that's my bet. He did witness some gruesome shit."

"Please, no cursing."

"Another point taken away from the Ghost King," Halina said.

"Whatever. It's not my fault! I was trying to have a nice time, and his ignorant party had to appear." We were slowing down, as though his words dragged me to a stop. Ditto's voice was no more quiet than the sky. "Sometimes....bad stuff happens, I suppose."

"He was a poacher?" I asked.

Ditto nodded. "Yes. I was in a place called Canada, wandering through snowy wastes, when a not fun night began."

"And so you killed twenty of them? Including his son?"

Halina now stopped completely, and I could not read her face. "You killed twenty people?"

"What do you want from me? He was a poacher, he hunted endangered animals for sport and money. And believe me when I say I wasn't having it that night." Ditto rubbed his arm, seeming uncomfortable. The whole campus was up in activity. There were stands with food, games, everything one could want on a college campus. Colorful flags and whatnot. I barely heard Halina's stomach rumble, and she went off getting food. Ditto watched her go. "There was once a time when I was hunted by collectors, bounty hunters, and poachers on the regular. I was very young too, when I was most vulnerable. I didn't leave many alive when they came calling."

I froze, almost like ice touched my heart. For the first time since the Necromancer's been present, I felt both stupid and.......sad for him. It never occurred to me one like a poacher would find Ditto interesting. His rarity, his value. For the taking if you're willing to risk it.

"How many came for you?" I asked, wanting the truth. Wanting something to latch on to. "Why leave Nate alive?"

"Huh. He probably called me a monster to you. Ironic." He smelled the world around him, and for once I saw his features crease, lost in memory. And his hardness......vanished. "He was able to stay alive because he sacrificed his own son. I--had laid a trap for them, and began my slaughter, for that it was. And after injuring their son, Nate and another had a choice to make. Nate could've sacrificed himself, and have the uninjured man save his son, or both could escape while I killed the boy. They chose life. And escaped my grasp."

"Why not ignore the boy and get them?"

But he felt like answering my questions out of order. "From about fourteen to nineteen, I had faced a lot of those bad people. A grand total of twenty poachers, twenty-five collectors, and nineteen bounty hunters. And of those, three, four, and two, in that order, have escaped me with their lives."

I did the math. Sixty-four total men and women he's faced. And nine got to live.

The air got some colder.

We both watched as Halina chatted with magi, waiting in line for food. They neither looked or cared she was a human. Ditto sighed. "To answer why I didn't ignore the boy, many people in their lives go through phases. I've gone through four total in my lifetime. The first was from age five to thirteen, my Naive years. Then thirteen to nineteen, or my Angry years. Then nineteen to twenty-two, my No Quarter years. And finally now, my More or Less Neutral years. I didn't ignore the boy because I was angry, and wanted to take it out on someone. They were bad people in my mind, and hunting me requires a price tag beyond dollar symbols."

"So a young man had to die because of it?" I asked, wondering how far in this conversation I can go. How careful I must step. "Does that not seem wrong to you?"

"There were times after I killed a poacher or whatever, and think 'Did the magi send them? Is this punishment for life?' No, it doesn't seem wrong. I have no regrets with those that deserve to die. A price must be paid, if one wishes for an item above the trivial concept of money."

"How old were you when you fought Nate and his crew?"

He shrugged. "Seventeen. Young, I know. But I was still figuring out the world. One lesson I learned however, was we are all on our own. And I was not going to fall because I'm weak or helpless. The Pillar sought that years ago. I proved them wrong. And here I stand."

The world was spinning, so bright and loud. I tuned it out, because those distractions are not needed. A magi ate a meat pie with all the grace of a pig. The trees swayed with a small wing. Another magi lifted a drink in celebration, while a student tried to get by a crowd who refused to move. If the flowers wanted me to stay on my feet, then that I will do.

"You were limping coming to class today," I said.

Ditto glanced down at his leg, then shrugged. "Got in a scuffle. I'm a celebrity here, as I keep trying to get across."

Halina returned, an ice cream cone in hand. She licked it slowly. "What? It's hot."

"Yes. And I hate it."

We moved on, and I did my best to let the outside world go on by. Too much color. I'm used to the festival, but it still gives me issues. Why? I don't understand the need for all this noise. What happened to peace and quiet?

My eyes fell to the Necromancers feet. I made a mental note of what he said. Intriguing, he would let so much information loose. Hunted as a child. Not just once but well over sixty times. What do you do? I suppose you try and get word out any who hunt the Necromancer dies, or is severely hurt. Smart, in a way. That five year period must have ended because he found a name for himself. What was it he said on day one? The Man Who Dies For Fun?

Honestly, such a stupid name. Why would anyone die for fun? The idea makes no sense, it's nature to die when ready, or for food. Not to throw one's self in harms way. Surely there can't be much of a backstory to it. Give this man too much freedom, and chaos will ensue. Ah, I suppose I must take Nate's words with some caution. Perhaps truth is lying within.

"Why greet Nate with friendship?" I blurted out.

"I don't take life without some type of purpose. There must be a push, and after eleven years the push has been reset. For something small like trying to kill me at least."

Oh. If only words could speak.

XXXX

So, apparently I had made some kind of deal with a light magi professor, a teacher of the Protection Against Dark Magic class. Such a stupid agreement. Why? Why would I do that? Do I look more approachable now? God, I hope not. Maybe I need a more ragged beard.

It doesn't matter. Because now I was standing in Professor Brann's room, a dueling room more or less, with about thirty students watching the two of us. I thought it was more of a gym than some mystical place to grow magic, but hey, not everything needs to be special to have meaning.

The professor reminded me of a Floridian. Older, a nice dark tan, wispy brown hair, and for some od reason full of energy. And tons of light magic. I wanted to puke my guts up.

The students were all standing, holding various weapons and priming their magic. They were going to watch me and the professor practice defensive spells, then go against me. Which, I might add, I'm excited for. Not just more showing off my magic. Kicking the ass of magi is so much fun. That shocked face they get when they lose.

Priceless.

"Can anyone tell me why we practice against Dark magic?" asked Brann.

A red head raised her hand. "To defend against the branch of magic since it is used for much more eviler acts."

He smiled. "Good Lily. History has shown that Dark magic has been used for, well, darker purposes than our Light. And thankfully, we have a special guest with us. The Last Necromancer has agreed to help practice our spells."

"You all reek. I request nose plugs." I paused. "Wait, no. I need my nose. Fuck. Can I curse here?"

"Uh, sure. I don't see why not." Brann motioned to the dueling floor. A nice large rectangle, with red lines for boundaries. He went to one side, and I the other. Adjusting his white shirt, he once again addressed the class. "What is a good spell to use against, say, a projectile bolt of some kind?"

"A Guardian's Shield?" a pudgy boy asked.

"Excellent! Tell me Ditto, what forms of Dark magic do you know?"

Ha! "Hmm, I'd say a decent amount." Rolling my shoulders, I got my blood knife ready. "Is that what we're starting with?"

"Yes, I don't see why not." The magi activated his light, the gold energy burning bright in his hands. "Now, you all know a Guardian Shield can be made with any magic. It is a very flexible spell, one which requires strength and conviction."

He said the spell, and in a blink formed what looked like a giant circle with a great deal of sharp, crisp symbols within. Standing straight, the magi waved at me. "Now, Necromancer, do try to break through."

A Guardian's Shield. Good starting choice for the more advanced learners. Tapping the knife's edge on my lip, I thought for a second. Should I humiliate the man now? Or see if he can humiliate me?

Meh, let's spin the wheel.

Cutting open my palm, blood pooled out. As a necromancer, my parents taught me necromancy first and foremost. But as a searcher for knowledge, I've done plenty of testing and research into mixing different magics. Saying a necro spell, and drawing out a blood arcane symbol, red and black power sparked to life, dancing in my hand and around my arm. It looked like congealed darkness, hinted with red, hinted with the desire to destroy tenderly. The large bubbles floated carelessly under my control.

"Blood is a fluid magic, I personally say. Not so much dark, while considered one, but more neutral. It pairs with necromancy like a glove." The power swirled fast, and I let loose the vortex. In response Brann's shield was pumped with more light. My spell connected, and I heard what sounded like a grunt and crack.

After a few seconds I ended the spell. Brann's shield was broken and falling to pieces, but it appeared he held his ground.

"Impressive. I suppose it's been awhile since I've faced a light mage," I said. The magi let his shield crumble to dust, the shards dissipating to nothing. I moved a little, loosening my joints. "Hmm, hard to judge how much work you put in the spell. Some sort of masking effect. Clever. And, something else. A small detail. Ah, I see what I missed. Your foot budged a mere inch. Overconfidence is a weakness, I might add."

Brann ran a hand through his hair. "So, what did you all get from this?"

"Don't fight a necromancer?"

I liked that response.

"Not quite Jen," he said. Blinking his changing eyes, Brann paced back and forth. "Judging your opponent's strength is everything. And when you are wrong, you must adjust on the fly. Can anyone tell me how much more energy I put into the shield?"

"About three seconds worth?"

"Yes! Very good, Stag." Brann spun round to smile at me. "I too must admit the blood was a clever addition. It seems you're rather knowledgeable."

"Me? No, not really." Just a guy, who tries not to die on the regular. Only for fun.

Brann shrugged, then pointed at Stag. "Alright, your turn. Remember your training."

The man Stag nodded, and switched places with his teacher. He smelled of confidence. Maybe a top student here, like the jock who everyone despises. He was well built, slick hair, and handsome. He prepped his air magic, warming up as would an athlete. Skills in air however are rather simple to master when your ammunition is limitless.

"Aw, cute. Ready boy?" I asked, getting a taste of truth.

"I'm no boy," he snapped, flexing at the ladies. They all giggled, while some men rolled their eyes. Even here there are those who want to impress, hiding their insecurities behind foolish behaviors. Once again, cute. Stage completed the shield. "Ready."

"Well, you'll never be ready against me, but I appreciate the attitude." My left hand burned with necro-symbols. Powerful ones, ones that I've had to do bad things to unlock, to discover. Every magi in the room flinched, shock rolling off in brilliant waves.

Stag, for his part, didn't move or back down as I walked forward. Not fast, but painfully slow. He held up his shield, near trembling, unsure what to do as I came closer. I too would be confused. Do I charge? Do I wait and see what happens, reacting the best I can? What kind of magic is this?

Standing a near inch away from his shield, I examined his work. "Nice boy. Well structured, powerful will, impressive layers. The air magic you've demonstrated would make any proud. You will make a great soldier, warrior, one day."

I laid my left palm on the center, and showed teeth as the shield turned to fine, grey ash. Stage backed away quickly, almost running into Brann. The girls were no longer tickled pink.

"But unfortunately, you've got a lot to learn about what it means to wield strength." I sneezed, the dust getting in my nose. "Ah, damnit."

"You--you just turned air to ash," Brann remarked, voice like a shaken pen.

Wiping myself clean, I returned to my spot, feeling slightly drained from using those particular symbols. Death does have a toll, even to its Lord. Is this what leadership is supposed to be?

"Alright, who's next?" I challenged. Shame, the magi can't find better champions.

Some girl walked up, showing off her skills in blue fire. A more skinny girl, with the face that only a mother could love. She created her shield, hands on hips.

"Fire is the perfect element. Near impossible to kill," she said, arrogant like any other magi. Strange, I figured she'd have grown wise. She went on. "Bring it Necromancer."

Alright, I'm getting tired of this. Necromancy is the magic of death. The magi did a good job at destroying us off. But they did a poor job at learning about us, at understanding us. Necromancers, on the other hand, were great at observing, at patience. True, my patience isn't always the greatest. However I'm good at learning, watching, waiting. Being the Lord of Death requires the principles of what you claim to be.

A complicated necro-circle formed in my right palm. Activating it with the still leaking blood, I produced a small black ball.

"Oh, I wish for a day when I'll be presented with a real challenge." Switching it on, the ball started creating a powerful sucking force. And soon the fire that the girl was so proud of was being sucked into the ball, all the way across the sparring floor.

If one has studied science before, you would have compared the picture to that of a black hole.

Or better known as the death of light.

Once her shield became nothing, I closed my hand and stopped the spell.

"Fear not what you can't comprehend, but what your mind can't piece together. Only then will you magi learn what relevance is."

The class went on, slowly. No, the magi still never learned their lesson. They just gained emotions that solidify my place in history. Why am I always looking forward, to a place where we can't win? The sword on my back laughed with the need to escape it's sheath. Sorry, but if I have to stay trapped, then so do you.

There's nothing worse than muffled silence. Except I suppose for shattered laughter.