Return of the Teacher: A Necromantic Scene

“We can’t keep running like this,” said Phren, out of breath. “We have to stop her. You’re a necromancer, how do we stop her?” “I have no idea. This isn’t some lost soul in the wilderness. This is a rotted goddess!” “There’s no hiding from this thing,” continued Phren, “and there’s no throwing it off.... Continue Reading →

Necromantic, Chapter One: The Visitor

The stranger came like rot on the breeze. Swift, silent, and unpleasant without making any lasting impression. He was ultimately forgettable – contextless in all contexts – and that kept him safe. There were two ways to stay safe that Cyr had come across in her short life: be frightening enough, or forgettable enough, and... Continue Reading →

Winter: a poem, based on Necromantic

You're swallowing fire again. You never promised to stop, but for your apprentice, I had assumed... This is no place to raise a child. Among the cold heather of the frozen highlands, eating roots and drinking broth, traveling with a master who forgets to cook for two, learning the craft from a dropout who never completed... Continue Reading →

Not A Hot Dream: A Necromantic Scene

“Morning, Laddo.” Maccuccio greeted Cyril the same way he greeted her each of his mornings. Cyril was never quite sure what a “laddo” was, but it was said with a smile and gruff upward nod, so she figured it was a term of endearment. Drifting in the cold morning air was the smell of whatever... Continue Reading →

Tinted Glasses

I thought they could only destroy the warmth: pull darkness over town squares. I had no idea they could be parasitic, take up lodging in a previously private soul, and commandeer a body’s thoughts and movements. I should never have gone on that diplomacy mission; they are incapable of diplomacy. Their government consists of the... Continue Reading →

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