Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01

'Home... Funny, it doesn't feel like home anymore,' he thought sadly. 'Not since Alice died.' He sighed and pushed open the front door, his mood having turned melancholy. Sitting on the sofa in the living room, were his parents. His dad usually didn't get home until around six, so this was unusual in itself.

The way they both nervously turned their heads in his direction as he came in told him they had been waiting for his arrival. His mother motioned to the reclining chair to the side of the coffee table. Ian, filled with apprehension, complied. It looked almost like an intervention.

All of a sudden, worries about what he'd done the night before flooded his thoughts. 'They can't have found the book... could they?' 'The Archive wouldn't reveal himself to anyone.' 'I'm sure I made the runes around the house discreet enough to escape notice.'

"We need to talk," his mother started out, wringing her hands, and Ian doubted if he could find more appropriate words to portend doom if he tried. "You must have noticed that things have been... tense lately."

Ian nodded slowly, his heartbeat picking up, but trying to keep from showing emotion, like a soldier that closed his eyes in the hope that a mortar strike would miss him. "Well," she continued, and her voice cracked. Ian saw, for the first time since the incident, just how ragged and worn she looked. "It's ju- just that we still don't kn- know what happened."

Her voice caught and tears began falling, but still she barreled on. "It was all so confusing and horrible. I can't even think about my daughter without remembering that- that- hideous 'thing.' I just don't think I can take it anymore." Her shoulders dropped after her confession and she collapsed back on the chair. Ian's eyes widened. He supposed he should have known his parents would have had a completely different experience than him. Still, why were they...

At Ian's confused expression, his father sighed and put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "I think he deserves to be told straight," he stated gruffly. Turning to his son he told him, "You're a reminder of what happened. I don't know what it is you did that night, but seeing you everyday makes it impossible for us to move on. We can't live with you anymore." Each declaration was said firmly and with finality. In a way, Ian appreciated his dad's straightforwardness.

His mom's eyes widened and she cried out, "Don't say it like that." She reached out and grasped her son's hands and brought them to her lips. "I'm so sorry dear, but I just can't get over your sister. We'll of course still provide for you. It's just, we need some change."

Ian stared at her. She might have thought she was being kind, but he knew she was essentially saying that the night Alice had died, she lost both her children. Being told by your mother that you're dead to her has to have a certain impact on a nine year old boy, he was sure. But he didn't have a clue how he should feel. Should he blame himself? Should he break down and cry and beg her not to leave? Should he fear being alone?

In the end, Ian just sat there and took it in. He barely registered his father's next words as he said, "Look, my firm has been asking me to come work at their main office for months now. You don't really want to go to some boarding school, do you?" Ian absently shook his head no.

His father nodded his head, expecting the answer. "The housing market is crap right now. We figure you can just stay here until your eighteen and by that time we'll probably be able to get a better offer on it anyway. Alice's funeral is on Sunday. We'll be moving to Chicago the week after. The firm has a set of condos they lease out to favored employees."

Seeing his son's mind was elsewhere, he grabbed Ian by the shoulders, trying to get him to recognize the importance of his next words. "If anyone asks, just say we're out of town and you have people checking up on you. We'll tell my firm you're living with your mom's parents. The store is just two blocks away and we'll open a checking account with a monthly allowance in your name and get you a debit card."

Standing up, his father finished and spread his hands. "Internet, TV, and phone will all be paid for. You've never needed a nanny even when you were younger and I know your sister always said you were a bit of a loner at school so you should be fine on your own."

His mother looked miserable and kept opening her mouth like she wanted to add something. 'Probably making sure she's expressed an appropriate amount of maternal worry,' Ian thought unsympathetically. Finally, she stood and went into her husband's arms and they both left for their bedroom.

Ian stayed in that position for the next few hours, contemplating nothing and everything. One minute he'd feel sorry for his mother, the next he'd rage, 'They never asked how I was handling it. I'm the one who has to face a dangerous new world where everyone wants to kill me. They just have to learn how to cope with the past.'

He sighed. Perhaps it was better this way. Now they wouldn't be put in harm's way when others came after him. Ian was jarred from his thoughts when he heard his parent's door open. Probably his mother about to get dinner ready, he guessed. Not wanting to face her yet, he snuck up the stairs.

Upon entering his room, the not unkind voice of the Archive commented, "You look like shit."

Ian grunted, still trying to clear his head. He dumped out the contents of his backpack on the desk. On the way home, he'd stopped at an arts and crafts store. The Archive had said a popular 'poor man's solution' to his problem of keeping himself hidden outside the house was to carve runes on beads and enchant a bracelet or similar sort of trinket and simply wear it.

The mechanics of hiding a moving person were apparently completely different from warding a house. What that translated to Ian was another sleepless night. He sighed and sat down on his office chair and got to work.

Five days later, Ian stood in the rain, ignoring his new suit that itched like crazy, and watched his sister being lowered into the ground. The service had been closed coffin, of course. Even then, Ian had his doubts about whether it was really his sister's body with all the government attention the case had gotten.

Actually having felt her soul leave the body, Ian didn't really care what they did with it. He'd already said his goodbyes to the real thing. He studied those that had come to pay their respects: His parents, of course. One of Alice's teachers. A mousy young girl named Rachel that had been Alice's best friend, and her parents. There were also a couple of people that had just been visiting and followed along. 'Who does that?' Ian wondered, shaking his head.

Looking across at his parents, huddled underneath his dad's umbrella, Ian replayed the conversation he'd had with his parents that morning. Apparently, one more week was more than they could bear. They were leaving that night on a redeye, the movers having boxed up the essentials and were already en route to their new home.

He sighed and looked at the hole where the coffin had descended. He reached out with his senses -Yup, definitely 'a' body down there. He bowed his head and prayed as the pastor rambled on about how this shocking tragedy was all ordained, trying to direct his thoughts in the general direction he thought he'd felt his sister fade in.

He closed his eyes and thought, 'Wish you were with me, sis. You were always the stronger one. You'd know what to do if you were in my place. Though, if everything the Archive says is true, it's probably better this way. I might've had to run away if this had happened while you were alive and I don't think I could survive you hating me. I miss you... Even at the end you got to play the big sister card and pull my ass out of the fire. Who knows? I might just be the one to join you soon."

Ian opened his eyes and was surprised to see a large gathering of men and women walking down the hill in their direction about fifty yards off. They looked to be from all walks of life. He stretched his senses and then felt his hands clench into fists. They were like the man in the woods that had killed Alice.

It felt like their essence had been twisted by magic, leaving a cruel imitation behind. They passed as human, but they were no more 'normal' than his sister's reanimated corpse. He shivered as he looked underneath the surface and saw their warped souls. He knew then that someone had created them -an entirely new race. They had probably been some sick creator's dream of the perfect predator.

Werewolves, the Archive had called them. Enhanced strength, enhanced speed, enhanced senses... Ian stepped away from the gathering and towards them. The pastor, having just reached his stride and oblivious to the approaching monsters, continued to provide comfort and peace for the bereaved.

Ian knew if they attacked there was little he could do in time, especially when he faced dozens of them. However, the Archive 'had' mentioned something about not counting one of his kind out just because their heart stopped beating. He also knew that the middle of a fucking cemetery was NOT the place to screw with a necromancer.

The werewolves stopped at a distance in a grove of trees, some of them looking decidedly nervous. Ian stood just outside the gathered circle and watched them. They looked like they had come to pay their respects. Some had even dressed up for the occasion. An elderly-looking man took one step forward and bowed his head. Clearly, the larger group (pack?) hadn't agreed with what the lone man in the forest had done.

Ian didn't care if one of them had gone rogue (rabid?). It didn't matter that they came. It wouldn't bring back his sister. He simply waited, an immovable object, looking for an excuse to vent all the frustration and emotion he'd built up since this all started.

Finally, the pastor finished up and Ian turned and got in line to get one last look at the coffin before the diggers started filling it in. When Ian and his parents left for the car, a quick glance showed that the grove of trees was now empty.

* * * * *

~Nine years later~

The busty blonde giggled uncontrollably, more than a little drunk, and thrust her gifted chest in his face, the tight shirt accentuating every curve. Ian was happy to help her with those, grabbing hold of them and giving a light squeeze. As he fondled her tits, she pushed him down and straddled him on the sand.

Ian's senior year of high school was over. His class had, for the sake of tradition, skipped the last day and gone down to the national park a few miles down the road. Being on the coast, if you made it through enough trees, you'd also find a secluded beach and barbeque area. And... being the conscientious young teens they were, they waited until after dark to bust out the booze and loud music.

While Ian was enjoying a very delectable set of boobs and making out with the blonde, Gary, one of his classmate's, was by the campfire showing off how he could touch the flames, even hold it in his hand briefly. It looked cool, especially to a heavily inebriated crowd, though it was considerably less impressive when one knew what Ian did, which was that Gary was a wizard. He controlled the elements and had an affinity for fire. He didn't burn. Ever.

He could have fallen asleep on that fire quite comfortably, but he was trying to make it seem like it was some kind of neat trick. Ian sighed, putting that asshole out of his mind and began tugging at the hem of the girl's shirt, wanting a look at those puffy pink nipples he guessed were under there.

Ian supposed, looking back, it was obvious that a confrontation was going to happen. Gary was the type of kid that liked to be the center of attention and felt entitled. If someone else had something and he wanted it, well then life had apparently screwed up and he made it his job to correct the mistake. A half-naked lay qualified, apparently.

The blonde's giggles rose an octave as she dug her hands into Ian's pants, distracting a few of Gary's male viewers. The pair was far enough away that the 'get a room' comments weren't shouted, but no one had any question as to what the two were doing.

Finally managing to unclip her infernal bra, he popped one of her nipples into his mouth, finding it every bit as delicious as he'd dreamed. He moved his hands to her tight, jean-covered ass and ground her hips into his. Her heated breath picked up and Ian had a brief prickle of panic as he tried to recall if he still had that condom in his wallet.

Gary started off trying to correct life's great mistake of the night by using his status and trying to bash Ian and his nonexistent reputation. The hopes that this would lead to something however, were dashed when he realized his audience was much too drunk to follow him down that path.

After going through half a dozen plans, he finally settled with a loud, "Hey, check this out," whereby he then tossed a fireball the size of a marshmallow like he was shooting a basket. The onlookers watched as it arced high then slowly floated down to land on the blonde's ass.

Ian was startled by the sharp, intense heat, having been fully ensconced in his ministrations, and he flinched before delivering a sharp slap to her juicy tush, injecting a small amount of willpower and intent in the motion. The blonde moaned from the involuntary spanking and ground her hips into his groin more vigorously.

The simple motion shouldn't have been able to extinguish the fireball while Gary was still maintaining it, but to all the spectators it had simply looked like Ian had beat the flame out. Having just seen his plan backfire, and being under the effects of both alcohol and youthful thinking, he got up and stomped his way over for a more direct confrontation.

Watching the situation develop was Rachel. One year older than Ian, the same age his sister had been. She stood 5' 4" with a healthy C-cup and long frizzy hair. The quiet, reserved brunette had actually been his prom date, though they both knew it had only been matter of convenience. She was also probably the only one at the cookout that didn't at least have a buzz.

Extremely intelligent, it hadn't taken her long to put the pieces together about what happened between Ian and his parents. Perhaps initially she'd felt sorry for him and that's why she'd befriended him. Maybe it was because she didn't really have any other friends besides Alice at the time and they shared each other's pain. Whatever the reason, she began hanging out at his house a lot, even tutoring him in math. It was probably her influence that caused Ian to skip a grade.

As she watched the boy she'd pegged as an 'insipid, insufferable bully' approach Ian, she had an uneasy feeling -as if this wasn't going to be a simple measuring contest, but something more serious. Rachel knew there was an aspect of Ian's life he never told her about. Something that would cause him to stay up all night and to lock some of his doors... She'd notice strange things, like odd items around his house or finding him reading anatomy textbooks during lunch even though he'd never shown any interest in becoming a doctor.

Ian slipped his hands into the blonde girl's jeans -quite a feat as they hugged her ass like a second skin. As he squeezed, he slid his fingers lower, just barely reaching the top of her mound. She gave a lusty moan as he pressed down and rubbed his middle finger into the crease.

Gary tried to get his attention by throwing some backwards complements that weren't so unintentional. Ian ignored him and concentrated on his prize. He didn't think much of the wizard. For all he knew, someone as dumb and pretentious as Gary might actually believe he was doing him a favor by cutting in.

That is, he ignored him until Gary kicked sand into his face. Ian froze, the wasted chick still grinding against him, oblivious. He gripped the girl atop him and steadied her, gently placing her down beside him. Gary smirked and started unbuckling his belt, "Yeah, that's right. Thanks for warming her up for me, now fuck off."

Ian stood slowly. When it became clear that he wasn't leaving, Gary jumped back and threw out his arms. "Oh ho, you wanna go, huh," the wizard mocked. "Come on, bitch. I've got a black belt in Taekwondo. What do y-"

He was cut off as Ian's foot slammed into his balls. As Gary doubled over, Ian drove his knee into his exposed face. "Moron," he muttered, and bent down to check the girl who was looking around with wide eyes.

Gary curled into a ball and howled in pain, some of his teeth were loose and he felt his nose bleeding. He rolled to his side and slammed his hand down, "That's fucking it!" Jumping to his feet, he screamed at Ian, "Do you have any idea who I am?! You're so fucking dead..."

He raised his hand and the flames from the campfire exploded thirty feet into the air, causing the occupants around it to be blasted backwards and the rest to run for cover. Ian's eyes widened. 'Shit,' he berated himself. 'Pushed too hard... Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You knew he was unstable... but to actually expose himself? God damnit!'

The smell of burnt flesh and singed hair permeated the air. Gary was laughing hysterically. "See! What did I tell you... You can't fight me. You had to fuck with a god!"

'A god?' Ian thought disgustedly. 'What an arrogant prick.' Careful to keep from making it seem like he was doing anything unusual --aside from not screaming and running in terror like everyone else-, he clenched his fist and tried to will the flames to extinguish.

The pillar of flame compressed and steam actually started to rise. Gary looked shocked, then angry, and he went berserk, the flames roaring back and doubling in size. The crazed wizard pointed an arm at Ian and directed a huge gout of flame to launch towards him.

Ian summoned an invisible shield and anchored the power to maintain it with the spirits he felt around him. That was one of his first lessons. Spirits were virtually everywhere. As he grew in power, he was able to see more of them and it was a constant battle not to be overwhelmed.

The flame hit the shield and engulfed him, completely hiding him from view. There was a scream from the students and Gary turned towards those hiding behind the trees. He laughed maniacally and shouted, "Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

'He's gone,' Ian thought. 'Screw this then.' As Gary was about to direct another gout towards the other students he suddenly froze, his flames losing their magical potency. He coughed and fell to his knees, clutching his midsection.

Ian had his hand extended towards the deranged wizard and pulled, clenching his fist as he did so. Gary's soul, still very much alive, was dragged kicking and screaming out of the inert body. It was a horribly inefficient process any halfway-decent mage would be able to shield themselves against, or at least make it difficult, but Gary was completely helpless under the assault.

After he'd taken hold of the struggling soul, Gary's body slumped to the ground in an uncontrolled heap. Ian waved his hand like he was discarding a used tissue and Gary's soul dissolved into mist, crossing over. None of the students had seen the energy that represented the soul, of course, but they did see the flames suddenly die down and Gary's prone body.

They could hear sirens in the distance, no doubt attracted by the lightshow. Rachel ran out from the cover of the trees and looked him over. "How are you not burned?" she demanded. "There's no way the fire could have missed you." When Ian failed to respond, she crossed her arms. "Fine. Keep your secrets," she spat. "Just make sure you have a good cover story when the cops get here because I'm sure everyone is going to say the same thing."