Path of the Necromancer Ch. 01

He flooded the runes with power and frowned as the entire circle flared red, failing to show an image of where he wanted to jump. He tried again, and was met with the same result. The Archive's muffled voice was coming out of his bag and he unzipped the top. "They've cast a net around the place!" the shrill voice of his adviser rang out. "Nothing is porting in or out. They've also apparently figured out that they won't be able to overpower your wards since they're powered by the dead. I think they've started draining it. You don't have much time."

Thinking fast, Ian grabbed Rachel's hand and his pack, running down the stairs. He passed by the living room and sent his power into his parents' bedroom, unleashing a surprise he'd prepared. Running into the kitchen, he burst through the back door, hand splayed out to shield himself as half a dozen FBI agents opened fire. "One of the mages in the front of the house must be a sorcerer. They're all being controlled," the Archive shouted.

Just as Ian was about to blast them, Rachel cried, "Then you can't kill them! It's not they're fault." She sounded as if she was almost in tears, the events of the night finally catching up to her.

Ian snarled, "It's a little late to be worrying about the death of innocents now..." But as he called on his power, he decided to keep them alive. "More efficient doing it like this anyway," he grumbled. He called on an equal number of spirits, feeding them power. The ghosts attacked the agents and began the process of possessing them. They were all strong men and women, but the ghosts had an unfair advantage with Ian backing them.

Rachel looked on in horror as the agents fell to the ground and curled into balls, shrieking madly. Ian tugged her after him and past the neighbors' houses, counting the rising number of victims as he went. While the agents' minds might have been commanded by another, the ones now controlling their bodies needed no such things. They turned their attention towards those assaulting the front of the house and walked jerkily towards their new targets.

* * * * *

The suave-looking wizard in charge of the team leaned on his staff and fired another bolt of lightning at the house. "Whew," he complained, smiling his perfect teeth. "That's a tough nut to crack."

The olive-skinned beauty standing next to him grimaced at his uselessness. His efforts were only making draining the shield harder. How that pompous ass ever got into the FBI's Supernatural Investigation Division, dubbed 'the Inquisition' by most magic users, was beyond her. She redoubled her efforts, astonished that it had taken this long to get in. Just as the wards collapsed, they all heard gunfire behind the house.

"Go check it out" her boss barked at her, not bothering to recognize her efforts in any way. She took off running, grumbling about incompetent superiors. The wizard frowned as he glimpsed Ashley Morgan run off, her azure blue hair bouncing along behind her. 'She changed the color again?' he groaned to himself and wondered why the young sorceress couldn't just be devoted to him like all the other sluts in the office.

He sighed and turned to the agents around him. 'Sheep,' he muttered to himself. Aloud, he yelled, "Alright then, clear the house. Don't be shy with those trigger fingers if he gives you any trouble at all."

Ashley groaned when she heard his words, darting between the fence struts leading to the backyard. 'We're supposed to take him alive at all costs, you moron,' she thought. 'Guess I'll just have to make sure I find him first.' Lost in her thoughts as she was, she failed to see the arm that lashed out of the darkness and caught her full in the chest, dropping her to the ground, winded.

She stared up as the blank face of one of the agents was revealed, right before he lunged down at her, mouth gaping wide. Ashley twitched in terrified shock, her hand streaking up to push away the head of her attacker. His grip was incredibly strong and she knew she only had moments. Her arm was pinned underneath his body and she struggled to point her gun upwards. Finally getting some leverage, she fired three rounds straight into his heart.

The body flinched at the shots, then continued its descent, weakening but determined to take her with it. Her eyes widened and she panicked. Gathering the energy inside of her, she slammed it into him with everything she had, forcing the body upwards about a foot before it fell atop her again.

However, she now had her hand free. Ashley placed the gun against the side of his head and unloaded the rest of her clip. Shaking, she got to her feet, covered in gore. Using uncontrolled telekinesis had weakened her considerably. She just couldn't believe what had just happened.

Ashley was jarred out of her revelations as a shot rang out and skinned her shoulder. She crouched and turned, looking to see another agent stumbling through the darkness, this one still holding a gun. She dived forward in a roll as another bullet soared over her. She came up and drove her shoulder into the possessed body, knocking it to the ground.

She ran past the fallen agent and jumped the fence, running to the houses beyond, popping in another clip and casting her thoughts out to find her quarry. 'Necromancy...' She shuddered at the thought. They were way out of their league. There hadn't been a new necromancer that had managed to reach adulthood in over a century. She shivered, knowing she was trying to find him... alone.

Ashley made a call to headquarters and requested backup, more to let them know of the development in case she died than of any realistic possibility that they could get here in time. If this guy had a flesh golem under his control or started raising armies, things could get messy. One of her division's foremost goals was to keep a lid on these kinds of things. There was nothing that woke people up more completely than seeing a zombie apocalypse.

Back at the abandoned house, the wizard looked around the living room in disgust. 'All the power in the world, and he chooses to live in squalor, he thought. 'Pathetic...' He heard retching sounds coming from upstairs and one of the agents dashed out of a room and called from the top of the stairs, "Its bad sir. We think it's a necromancer."

His eyebrows rose considerably at that. "Nonsense. All the necromancers in the world are accounted for. There hasn't been a new case since-" he trailed off as another agent came out carrying a dissected... something. 'Huh,' he thought. 'Well, that just makes it all the more interesting.'

Glancing down, he picked up the bra that had caught his attention. 'It looks like our prey had some company over.' He turned to the agent that had freed the mage from the interrogation room and asked, "Does this boy have a girlfriend?"

The agent glanced down at his notepad and declared, "It says in the police report that witnesses saw him kissing a girl before Subject A caused the illegal immolation."

Giving a bored nod, he said, "Make the calls. Find out who she is and we'll see if the kid ran there. I'll look for some hairs or flakes of skin and come up with a tracking spell." 'Child's play,' he reflected distastefully. The subjects never got away. They always managed to get them in the end and this... necromancer would be no different. That was his last thought as the entire house exploded.

Ian had stored hours worth of energy underneath his parents' old bed. It had been contained inside a strong seal, which was inside of a weaker one designed to deteriorate when the first had been breached. For five minutes after Ian had run past on his way to the kitchen, the energy had slowly been working itself towards combustion. The blast that rocked the neighborhood destroyed all the evidence he'd left behind, as well as the remaining retrieval squad.

Ashley stumbled to a halt as she looked to her right and gaped at the roiling plume of green flames that lit the sky. 'Holy shit!' she exclaimed. Reaching for her radio she shouted, "Hey, are you-" She stopped when it became clear from the static that the paired device had been destroyed. 'Shit...' She was debating what she should do now when she heard running footsteps the next street over.

* * * * *

They had made it to the town, shops and restaurants dotted both sides of the street. Running full tilt, Ian barely had enough warning to crash into the wall and stop their progress as a flurry of gunfire shot low out of the alley they had been about to cross. "Son of a bitch!" Ian muttered, turning them around and running the other way. "It's like she knows exactly where we're going to go."

Rachel followed breathlessly. She wanted more than anything to dig her heels in and demand to know what was going on, but she knew if she did they'd probably die. Still, she thought furiously, when they got out of this Ian was damn well going to explain himself.

"She 'is' a sorceress," the Archive drawled. "It's her job to know what your next move is."

Ian almost stopped in surprise. "No. Hell no! I made the amulet," he accused. "You said if I wore it those damn mind readers wouldn't be able to get in my head." A devilish laugh reached his ears from somewhere behind him.

"No..." the Archive said in an exasperated voice. "I said they wouldn't be able to control your actions. She can still skim your thoughts. Uhh, heads up." Ian felt a tug on his wrist and looked back to see Rachel staring at him with hooded eyes. He dodged as her fist whipped out and she snarled at him. "Sleep spell, sleep spell!" the Archive shrilled.

A wave of his hand had him lunging forward to catch her collapsing body. That did it... He was frustrated with himself for getting into this position and for dragging Rachel with him. He cursed the world for resigning him to a fate where he was hunted for no other reason than being born differently. He gritted his teeth as he gently hid his best friend around the corner of a building, determined to finish this cat and mouse game he apparently couldn't win.

Ashley felt a jolt of fear as she realized she'd finally pushed him too far. Things were going to come to a head between them. Shaking herself, she willed the jitters to go away and began forming a spear of telekinetic energy. It was designed to pierce most physical shields that mages tended to erect.

Ian appeared around the corner in front of Ashley and stalked towards her, glancing around for other threats. Almost peeved that the guy didn't perceive her as much of a danger, she fired two quick shots at his head. She'd expected the shots to ricochet off, but as she watched they seemed to seep into his shield and be dissolved.

As she unloaded the rest of her clip, she brought her other hand down and watched as the spear she'd created came sailing down, hitting him like a meteor. His shield flared white and then... she saw her best chance at killing him disintegrate before it reached his body. A ball of despair formed in the pit of her stomach and she was almost taken by surprised as Ian shot a sphere of green flame at her.

Ashley gasped and fell back on her training, hastily erecting a shield and backing up. She watched in dismay as the green fire contacted her shield and seemed to stick to it, eating the energy she'd formed like some kind of magic acid. She dodged another burst of flame and as she looked back the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Ghosts lined the street and were looking at her hungrily.

She knew when to cut her losses and tried to run down an alley -only to be grabbed and plucked off her feet, dragged back by the ethereal horde. Their cold, undefined touch made her skin scrawl and she shuddered as she was tossed back into the street. Ashley barely managed to roll to her feet just as a green orb hit her square on.

She'd been able to draw together something loosely resembling a shield, but it didn't stop her from getting blasted backwards through a store window. She felt a mixture of alarm, pain, and regret, and then nothing. Ian couldn't sense her and stepped forward to make sure she was dead, afraid that she might've been able to identify Rachel when she'd been rooting around in her head, when he heard the distinctive thumping of a helicopter in the distance.

He hurried back to where he'd stashed Rachel's sleeping form, anticipating the compulsion he'd cast in the police station to muddle Ashley's memory of the event. Throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, with his bag over the other, he made off towards her house, hiding his presence as he went.

When they reached her house, it was dark, being early morning. He could barely make out a soft purple hue in the distance, a sign of the coming sunrise. As she slept on the first floor, he walked around the house until he reached her window. He popped the screen out and infused a small amount of his will into the lock, clicking it open.

He'd just gotten her arrayed on the bed and moved to leave when her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. She looked up drearily at him and gave a sad smile. "You still owe me that story," she rasped. A grin spread across Ian's face as he realized she didn't hate him.

He lowered his head and kissed her forehead. "Later. You're going to UW, right? I'll find you when the semester starts and if you still want anything to do with me, I'll give it to you straight." Ian sighed and looked out the window. "I've got to lead these guys away before they start door-to-door searches. I'll steal a car and unveil myself at the edge of town before taking off."

Rachel hurt to see him go, but understood the necessity. "Ju-just tell me. I will see you again, right? You're not just blowing me off?"

Ian gave her a serious look. "Rachel..." He stopped and treaded carefully. "This life... I don't know if-"

She rolled her eyes at her goofy friend. "I'm not asking for a commitment, doofus. I know that despite," and she blushed scarlet, "what happened tonight, we're not going to be boyfriend/girlfriend, but I still want to be involved in your life. I don't want to just cut myself off like-" She stopped before she could say 'your parents.' They had never really talked about it and she had respected his wishes not to bring up the subject.

An understanding smile crossed his face. "I promise," he murmured, holding her hand.

"Oi, lover boy..." The Archive piped up. "I can give her the SparkNotes version. Give her the bracelet and go find us a ride." Ian looked up in surprise. He'd almost forgotten about the trinket he'd prepared. He'd meant to give it to her before she left for college. It would shield her mind, much like his amulet, and let him know if she was ever in trouble.

Sometime later, as he looked out the front of the stolen Volvo and turned north, he stared into the rising sun and thought about what his life would be like. From inside the bag on the passenger seat, the Archive shouted, "Halle-fucking-lujah! Time to see if all that waiting and training will pay off... We're gonna change the world, my friend. And hopefully get you some sorely needed ass along the way..."

* * * * *

Sarah Flores stood at the entrance of the blackened area that used to be where Ian's house sat. She'd never seen anything like it, and she'd witnessed a number of house fires. These flames appeared to have eaten everything down to the bedrock. And witness reports said the fire was... green?

She sighed. Something strange was going on. The FBI wasn't talking. They'd sent their medical examiners here to scrape up samples, but they had looked resigned. Sarah had gone against everything she believed in and done what Ian had said. She'd kept her head down and didn't make waves.

Then, she'd woken up this morning and replayed the events of the night before and realized he'd known her first name --he'd even known her dream was to get into the FBI. She'd been furious, thinking someone had set her up. Then, of course, she'd arrived to find this. She sighed again, heavier this time.

Sarah knew she wasn't going to get answers, but she also knew that she'd never be able to let this one go. 'Hell of a night,' she groused, turning away from the wreckage. She noticed the unmarked car no doubt belonging to the FBI watching the 'house' and shook her head. She was considerably less certain about her decision to join them after what she'd seen and heard regarding last night.

They'd seemingly acted like a bunch of heartless thugs going around shooting up the town and various neighborhoods, all the while telling the local cops to mind their own business. Walking back to her car, she leaned on the door, wondering if she'd ever see the boy with emerald green eyes hidden behind shaggy black hair.

* * * * *

Ashley felt like shit. She had just gotten out of the ICU since nearly being eaten by Spiritfire apparently wasn't something taught in med school and no one could figure out why she wasn't responding to anything. Luckily, the backup she'd called had brought along an actual full-blooded Native American Shaman that was able to set her right. It seems they pulled out all the stops when it came to a necro-sighting.

She was going over what she remembered from the night before. Some of it was painfully clear, like the ghostly hands crawling all over her body, and other things were a little hazy. The main thing she couldn't figure out was why she was still alive. Ashley knew that the blast that knocked her into the window 'should' have killed her. Her shield had been so thin it made toilet paper seem like a legitimate defense.

He'd pulled back for some reason and she couldn't figure out why. They'd always been told necromancers were a sadistic bunch that tortured victims relentlessly before using them as puppets in death. Looking back on the night's events though, she couldn't see it. Hell, if he'd been any other type of mage and they'd managed to take him in, he'd probably have been released with their thanks for stopping the insane pyromancer.

Even now, after they'd pissed him off and turned his life upside down, there was nothing to show that he'd retaliated. And they 'knew' he had the power to do it. From everything she'd gathered, he just wanted to be left alone. Now, more than a billion dollars would be going into the Seattle office to beef up their field strength and technological capabilities so it didn't happen again.

While Ian may have confounded her, she wasn't his number one fan either. He'd tossed her through a fucking window... And she knew only a twist of fate had helped her avoid joining her boss in death, incompetent ass that he might have been. Still, morbid that it was, as one of the only survivors -minus the possessed agents that had woken up a few blocks away with no memory of how they got there- she was being given her own team. She supposed she should thank him.

At the very least, she learned not to take everything the FBI higher-ups told her as sacrosanct. Closing her eyes and enjoying the extra fluffy pillow the nurse had given her, she had a feeling this wouldn't be the last she saw of Ian. And next time... she'd be ready.

* * * * *

Ian's first two weeks in the big city had not gone as planned. He hadn't wanted to go to college in the first place, preferring to live off of his gift (he 'had' started calling it a gift instead of a curse), so having to disappear wasn't really a setback. The big problem was that what he'd envisioned life to be like in his head clashed with reality quite spectacularly.

He figured, 'Hey, I can talk to the dead. There should be a million and one ways to make money off of that.' He'd solve cold cases since they could go anywhere just about instantly so long as energy wasn't a problem; he'd ask spirits for the money they left behind in exchange for helping them cross over; he'd have a few ghosts haunt a financial guru for hot stock tips. One gets the picture...