The Brink (#0231) - The Life Of The Necromancer, 1 by Daz1971
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Description
Volume II - Episode 83
Where: Cologne, Germany
When: 1 months and 13 days after E-Day, 1:44 am
They had rescued the boy from a Hexenjägern checkpoint on the outskirts of the city. He sat beside the Ancient in the back of the armoured personnel carrier, staring up at the hooded man with the shameless fascination that only a child can get away with.
“Wie alt bist du?” the boy asked. How old are you?
The Ancient smiled and replied in perfect German: “I am 175 years-old.”
“No you’re not!”
The Ancient raised his eyebrows and nodded enthusiastically. “I was born in a country called Abyssinia, in Africa, in the year 1835. That was 175 years ago.”
The boy gazed up into the Ancient’s eyes for a few seconds, trying to discern if the old man was playing a joke on him, then looked away, startled, as the sound of distant gunfire echoed through the streets outside the APC. “How can you be that old?” he whispered, fidgeting nervously.
“Well,” the Ancient began, leaning towards the boy in a conspirational whisper. “Do you know what happens to us when we die?”
“If we’re good, we go to Heaven.”
The Ancient smiled. “Do you really believe that?”
The boy shrugged.
“We are magic, you and I,” the Ancient began, wagging his finger between himself and the boy to indicate that they were special. “Most people are just flesh and blood. Skin and bones, and electrical impulses that zip and zap around their brains to give them thoughts and feelings. But not you and me. We are more than that. Spellcasters like us - we have magic inside of us. And when we die, that magic lives on, free to roam the world and experience all the sights and sounds the universe has to offer. Our body dies, but our spirit lives forever.”
“Forever?”
The Ancient nodded. “We can travel everywhere; see everything. Some spirits can even cast spells, as long as they prepared them before their body died.”
The boy looked confused. “So you’re…a spirit?”
The Ancient shook his head. “No. I’m what’s called a necromancer. Some people call us Ancients, or The Gorod. We’re rare. Very, very rare. In fact, most people don’t even believe that we exist. But we are real. And we can do something no other spellcasters can do: we can pull a dead warlock or witch’s magical spirit back into their body.”
“What does that do?”
“Well, as long as we repair their body before we pull the spirit back into it, it means we can bring dead spellcasters back to life.”
The boy’s eyes grew wide.
“With a lot practice, a lot of work, and a lot of careful preparation, we can even prepare own bodies before we die. That way, our spirit can repair our physical body and then return to it after we die.”
“I don’t understand…”
“I‘ve died four times since I was born in 1835. The last three times I died, I brought myself back to life.”
Comments (2)
giulband
Excellent illustration !!!!
Mondwin
Beauty illustrazion my friend!!!Bravissimo!V:DDD.Hugsxx Whylma. Merry Christmas!!!