Necromancy should have died a long time ago.

Somehow the Berkeley house was so powerful that they kept producing necromancers in every child.

Everyone waited until a child turned nine in hopes that they would be a powerful necromancer and take back their seat in the council.

However, some were cowardly and locked themselves away from the world praying that nobody would ever dare to find them.

The sun reflected on the calm water of the fountain. Koi fish swam around and around, happy to be alive. In the middle was a statue of an angel with her hands over her face. The water came out of her hidden eyes like tears falling in the pond.

A small boy sat beside the pond, he leaned so close to the water that his face was almost touching the fish. He was so invested in watching the fish and their beautiful colors that he didn't notice the old man sitting next to you. A gust of wind passed them.

“Nice weather isn't it?” The old man said

 The boy turned his head, he never saw him before. His father told him to never talk to strangers, but he had never seen a stranger come into his backyard before so he was sure this was alright.

He pointed to the fish

  “These are my fish, well actually my moms, I named them all.“

“That is very remarkable, naming a fish even though it does not know its name, only to swim and eat in glee.”

“Do you want to know their names?” The little boy asked

“Oh yes, that will be quite delightful.“

The little boy started to list all the fish's names and the reason for their names. As he finished the old man was now looking quite curious at the boy.

“Why, how old are you?”

The little boy smiled “ I turn 9 today!”

The old man frowned and looked at the pond with a sad demeanor “ Ah I see, the day a little boy gets his magic. What is your magic gift.”

The little boy shook his head “ Daddy says I don’t have any magic.” The old man looked up at the sky, “ I see.”

“Who are you? “ The little boy asked.

“Why, I’m your great-grandfather.”

The little boy stared at the old man “ Great grandfather? But he has been dead for ages.”

“Precisely my boy, it's such a shame you don't have the gift, first of all, to never be able to summon the undead, but of course, I can talk to you anytime I like.”

“But how if I’m not a necromancer?”

“Because I was of course.” The great grandfather answered.

“Casper Berkeley you get over here right now! What have I said about talking to strangers.” A man's voice yelled out from a screened porch.

The little boy ran over to the porch while yelling back, “ But daddy he's not a stranger, he is my great-grandfather!”

The old man walked off into the garden with a frown. “ I thought it would be best to wish the little boy a happy birthday. After all, this one is very, very special.”

The old man disappeared in mid-air.

Inside the house, the boy's father took him to a big room full of paintings,  and some bookcases. It was a very clean room with no specks of dust. The sun shone on the paintings like it was glistening them with light. Caspers's father frowned, “ I never want you to talk to those ghosts.”

Casper tilted his head “Why?”

The boy's father pointed at the paintings “ The days of necromancy are over, even if you speak to a ghost you can go to jail til you go old and gray, or worse they’ll take away your magic.”

“You’ll never let them take me away will you daddy?”

“No, of course not.”

***

Six years later

Casper started at an old painting and his family, he was a little bit older now and had more of an understanding of the world around him. He lived alone in the old mansion. It was all boarded up like a hermit trying to keep out of society and it stood on the hill like a withering old man.

The floorboards needed fixing and the wallpaper was peeling. Everywhere was full of shadows and dust. It was unlivable for a 16-year-old boy, but somehow he lived regardless.

“Why did they leave me behind?” He said to the shadows inside the mansion.

The old man came out of the shadows and sighed, “ Because you turned out to be a powerful necromancer.”

“But dad is a necromancer, how could he leave me here?”

“Because he is frightened of you, my boy.”

“You won’t leave me, right grandad?” Casper asked 

“Of course not.” The old man honestly said, for wasn’t that the job for a ghost?

“Come on my boy we have to make you dinner.”