A/N: These past months have flown by. Work, birthdays (many!) and I had my very first art stall at a Christmas fair. I loved it! But I'm tired and I wanted to comfort write and let my imagination flow.
Some of you probably know that I adore Halloween and the concept "hyggelig uhygge" which is Danish and translates to "cozy scare." That's what this story is.
This will be a short story, like Companion 🖤
OBS: This story doesn't follow the "traditional" rules of necromancy. This is my version (like always).
This is unedited.
Chapter 1.
A cold wind was blowing through the streets and Valice adjusted his cloak to cover more of him. He didn't need to, he just preferred to be warm.
It was a busy day at the market and he was standing in line for the vegetable cart - the people around him giving him a wide berth - when he saw the ghost. It was fluttering and weak. Barely discernible against the brick wall it was clinging to.
Valice cast a regretful look at the pumpkins his mother had asked him to fetch and left the line. The ghost was watching people pass him by with wide, miserable eyes.
It was a boy Valice recognized. Mei Leing.
He was a foreigner, in appearance alone. His family had immigrated to Faxel ten years ago and they had quickly been accepted into the queen's royal theater.
Valice's family could never afford tickets to view a performance (not that they would have been welcomed either), but he had seen posters of the boy's doll-like features, surrounded by twisting snakes and flowers.
Judging by the terror that flashed over the specter's face, he recognized Valice too.
"Hello, I'm Valice." He smiled gently and tilted his head. "You must be tired, holding on for so long."
The boy cowered away from him and clutched the wall harder, translucent fingers nearly slipping through the stone.
"Why are you still here? Is there a message you want me to deliver?" Valice asked, keeping his voice calm and soft.
The boy turned back to him, with a look of despair, and lifted his chin. His throat was a gnarled mess of old scars, as if his vocal chords had been torn out. But that hadn't been what killed him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me." Valice reached for the drawstring pouch in the inner linings of his robe.
Wraiths were the result of a violent or unexpected death. The trauma they had suffered could cause memory loss and revert them to an almost childlike state. A familiar object was a comfort to most of them.
The boy was from a warm and humid country called Calidi and, even if he hadn't spent the majority of his life there, his family might still decorate their chambers with items that reminded them of home.
"Ah, this one." Valice lifted a small charm in the shape of a dragon.
The boy's eyes fixed on it intently. His flimsy hand released it's death grip on the wall and lunged for the pendant. The minute his thin fingers closed around it, Valice touched his wrist and sent him a stream of energy.
The specter strengthened, skin becoming whiter and clearer. He was still translucent, but much easier to see. When he had the strength to stand, he stared at Valice in awe.
Valice smiled, even though a headache was brewing behind his eyes; energy didn't just manifest out of nothing and it always took a lot out of him. "Come on, I'll take you to my house. I'm sure my mother can help you."
The streets were teeming, but people made room for Valice. A few even greeted him by name, but they all took care not to look at him directly. The boy clung to his hand, ghostly fingers so tight, Valice could nearly feel them.
His home was an abandoned church a little way out of town. The graveyard had been cleared, those spirits were long gone, but Valice's mother had left the most appealing tombstones to decorate her herb garden.
His sister was outside, playing with a pair of straw dolls. Her long black hair shone in the sun and her gaunt cheeks cast sharp shadows.
Her cloudy eyes went wide at the sight of the boy. She jumped to her feet and grinned, revealing two missing front teeth. "Hi! I love your posters!"
The wraith levitated a foot in the air, flickered and disappeared.
"Not so loud, Thera." Valice tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice and returned the dragon charm to its pouch. Thera only had good intentions, but she was just six years old and still learning not to scare the new ones away.
After a cup of rejuvenating cow's blood, Valice's mother sent him back into town for the pumpkins.
......
That night, Valice sensed a presence and sat up on his pallet. The ghost was gripping his windowpane, weak and faded once again. It was astonishing that it still had the strength to stay in this realm.
Valice pushed off his furs and walked to the window, opening it. The night air was crisp and cold with a bite of frost. Winter was approaching fast and everything green would soon wither and die. He could feel it happening already.
"I was wondering where you went." Valice smiled and the ghost lunged for his hands, gripping them tightly in a plea for strength. Valice gave it freely and watched the boy's form grow brighter.
"Ach." A cold sweat broke out on his brow and his temples stung. "What can I do for you?"
The boy tugged at him urgently, leaning backwards into the night.
"Not so fast. I can't go down that way." Valice reminded gently and urged the wraith inside.
They moved down the twisting, creaking steps of the church tower and entered the kitchen. It was pitch black at night, but Valice's eyes had no trouble locating his cloak and boots. It wasn't easy to put them on, with the boy still clutching one of his hands, but he managed it.
The ghost led him down dirt-packed roads, past the fields and back into town, to the wall he had huddled against.
He pointed to a red door, nearly hidden inside the alley. There was no handle on the outside, only a keyhole, and the red paint was chipped.
"Are you sure?" Valice said and the boy nodded, dark eyes narrowed and mouth tight. He was angry. Valice could feel his emotions crackling through their touch.
Valice knocked and heard a panicked rush of steps inside. But no one answered. He knocked harder and shouted. "In the name of Anu, Mistress of Death, open the door!"
The door cracked open a sliver and watery blue eyes peered out at Valice.
"No." The man flung the door wide. He was middle-aged, with thinning hair and breath that smelled like stale liquor. His clothes were of fine quality, but his green silk shirt was stained with dark smears. "No, he's just sleeping. You must be mistaken."
"There is no mistake. Mei Leing has brought me to you." Valice said gravely and lifted the royal lion pendant on his chest. "Stand aside."
Valice certainly didn't resemble a royal servant, but every country valued their necromancers, as much as they feared them.
The man heaved as if he was about to be sick, but he stumbled back.
The boy led Valice inside and spat at the man, face distorted with hatred. Of-course, the man couldn't see him. But if the boy became consumed with hate, he would attract creatures darker than Valice and become a poltergeist.
If that happened, Valice would be forced to banish him. He hoped it wouldn't come to that; banished spirits never found peace.
He passed the boy a little more of his energy to distract him. His bones began to ache, but the look of gratitude the wraith sent him was worth it.
They entered a parlor. It was scarcely furnished, with a dusty bookshelf, an old couch and empty wine bottles scattered across the floor. It looked like no one had lived there in years.
Valice followed the specter up the stairs and into a small room, with a single bed, and an oil lamp flickering on the nightstand.
The man rushed after him, speaking fast. "I never meant to hurt him! We got carried away and then he just stopped moving. I've tried to wake him!"
Valice stared at the still body tied to the bed. Mei's long hair flowed over the edge of the mattress, like a dark veil, and blood smeared the insides of his pale thighs and soaked into the sheets.
"H-he seduced me with his dance! Every night in the theater, his eyes found me in the crowd. He wouldn't leave me alone! A married man!"
Valice drowned out the nonsense and walked to the boy. The ghost beside him was trembling with fury and despair. It blazed through their hands and it was difficult for Valice to remain calm and keep his emotions separate.
He took a careful breath and touched the boy's cold chest. His heart beat, but just barely. There were black handprints on his scarred throat and his full lips were tinted blue.
He was just a hairsbreadth from death and it wouldn't take a thought for Valice to end it. But there were codes of ethics, for instances like this, and Valice was only too happy to abide by them.
"I understand now. This wasn't your time." Valice said and looked up at the boy. "Do you want to live?"
The specter's eyes filled with tears and he nodded. There was a flurry of steps behind them and a knife drove into Valice's back. The man was breathing raggedly, almost sobbing. He jerked out the knife and struck again and again.
Valice fell to the floor, eyes wide with shock. People avoided his family, yes. Some even threw curses at them. But no one had ever tried to kill him before. It was the equivalent of sealing your own death sentence.
He felt the wraith press against his spine, slender arms gripping his waist feebly, trying to protect him with its diaphanous body. But the knife only passed through.
After a dozen or so stabs, the blade dropped to the floorboards with a clatter. Valice distantly heard the man sob.
"D-demons...all of you." He rasped. Steps rushed out the door and pounded down the stairs. The door slammed shut.
Somewhere in his chest, Valice felt Anu acknowledge him and a cool touch, like a whisper of lips, touched his brow.
Valice moaned and sat up. Hell's breath, he hurt, but it wouldn't kill him. It took a lot more than a blade to end a necromancer. But not many people knew that. After all, Valice looked almost Human.
The ghost flitted around him, mouth growing alarmingly wide in a silent scream. The oil-lamp fell to the floor and shattered from the force of the boy's distress.
"...It's alright." Valice gripped the edge of the bed and dragged himself to his knees. "Here." He lifted a trembling hand and the boy gripped it in both of his.
Valice lowered his head, panting when the cloak stretched over his torn spine, and pressed his lips gently to Mei Leing's cold mouth.
A single inhale dragged the wraith through him, and into the boy's mouth, on an exhale. The faint heartbeat beneath his palm suddenly thundered. Valice hastily lifted his head and gripped the boy's warming hand.
The fingers in his grip twitched and Mei Leing's eyes flew open. And then he screamed.
Valice had only witnessed a spirit resuscitation once before, when his mother had saved a young girl who nearly drowned. Her screams had echoed over the harbour for a long time afterwards.
But in some ways this was worse to witness, because Mei had no voice to express his pain and only a hoarse wind escaped his torn vocal chords.
When his howls finally stopped, his agonized eyes focused on Valice.
"Do you remember me?" Valice murmured and the boy nodded, tears running over his fair cheeks. "You're safe now. That man will never touch you again."
Valice bent to pick up the knife, stained black with his own blood, and sawed through the fabric tied to the boy's thin ankles and wrists. He would have bruises for a long time.
The next couple of hours were a blur. Valice alerted the innkeeper next door - and the town doctor and the kings men arrived.
Valice's mother eventually appeared. Mei Leing had long since been returned to his family, but Valice was still being interrogated by the guards.
The king's men weren't their enemies, exactly, but it was no secret that many of them would have preferred necromancers far away from their town.
His mother's milky eyes hardened to stone and she filled the doorway, like Mistress Death herself.
"Release my son." Libitina's voice barely rose above a whisper, but the men obeyed her instantly.
Comments (18)
See all