The Nameless Necromancer (Part 2)

    It's been a week since Azrael spoke to me, and he still has not contacted me in any way. Or, if he did it subtly, it went straight past me without me noticing it. Also, Grave has not mentioned anything about Paul's death since I told him about what I found, leaving me to wonder if he does not know anything or whether he is just not bothering to enlighten me. The only truly interesting thing that has happened is that I have been moved.

         I am now considered one of the higher Necromancy students, and so my dorm has been stolen and I have been sent to dwell in the crypt by the graveyard. I pick a small room at the very front, one of the few with windows, even if the view is limited to the graveyard. Every night, I can feel the dead out there, and I am annoyed that the rest of the students mostly ignore them, managing to sleep without any trouble. Liz is going to be at the cathedral tonight, working on reforging her armor with the aid of her mentor Avriel, so I have decided to go to a nearby.... pub called the Stake by people who think they're amusing.

         It's a place where normal people don't go, only Magi and other magical creatures. The name comes from the fact that Magi are the foremost hunters of vampires, and from the Salem Witch Trials, when "witches" were burned at the stake. And yes, it's perfectly acceptable for us to go to the Stake, if not truly legal, because it is next to impossible to get a Magi intoxicated on normal brews, and impossible if we are attempting to prevent it. We all have varying degrees of tolerance, but most of us can withstand any type of mortal alcohol with only slight ill effect. Drinks brewed at the Stake, on the other hand, can be downright dangerous if consumed by the wrong individual and some of them are even capable of causing death, but the teachers at the Academy mostly turn a blind eye to those of us over fifteen going.

         Regardless, most of the creatures that are there drink some of the rougher stuff, and when they drink, they talk. This makes the Stake an excellent place to learn things, especially things you never wanted to know. After classes are over for the day, I head back to my room and while away some time checking my daggers over, sharpening them (which is mostly futile, since they barely dull), and I even spend a little bit of time checking my Necromancer's robes and re-examining the enchantments on them. I hardly ever wear them, preferring regular clothing, but if I walk into the Stake dressed in street clothes, it might end in trouble for me.

         I toss my current clothes into a hamper in the corner, planning to wash them, which will most likely never happen. I don my robes, strap my daggers on, lace up my boots, and pull a hooded cloak over myself, completing the ensemble. If I had a mirror, I would probably look in it and pose. But since I don't, I abstain.

         It's not that far of a walk to the Stake, and I don't run into any problems on the way. I do bump into a creature I recognize as a Pyrite by the energy around him and the skin tone, and he turns to hiss at me while extending his jaw, but when he sees how I am dressed, he immediately moves back, then practically sprints away. And they can move at a good clip when they want to. Half undead.... terrified of Necromancers. But with good reason. I move on, and a few minutes later enter the Stake, which from the outside is an old bar and grill, practically falling apart. But on the inside, it's a nice place. A rectangular room with a clean wooden floor that's entirely taken up by oak tables and chairs. No bar to be seen, but it doesn't matter, not here. 
         
          The Stake is protected with various wards and enchantments, and is run by two brothers whose names I don't know, a Highborn and Darkborn. Not all those who are born to Hell choose to serve, after all, even though only a few do refuse. Not that they have much choice. The Darkborn stands at one of the walls, the only currently visible signs of his taint fingernails that are too long and dark to possibly be normal, as well as a pair of eight inch horns stabbing upward from his forehead. I move to take a seat in the far corner, and while some of the patrons glance at me as I walk past, I'm not really worried.

         Vampires cannot enter here because of the enchantments, and I can't think of any other creature here that would really want to kill me. I almost brush the wings of a Scaled One talking with a Lycanthrope, and desperately check the movement of my body. I barely get by without touching the wings, which I really don't want to do. Dragonkin have tempers as short as those of their ancestors, who are not often known for kind natures. Is a single piece of gold truly worth the lives of thousands? I sit down with my back to the wall, and pick up the menu sitting on the table. I vaguely scan it, but since I'm not hungry, and I don't plan to drink, I decide to go with Envik'ty, something I have heard ordered countless times here, so I know it cannot be too dangerous for me. Besides, I just want to blend in, not actually drink something.

         You order by addressing the menu itself with the name of whatever  you happen to want. I'm not sure how the Brothers do it, but it's a neat trick. I order, and the menu vanishes, with my drink appearing a few seconds later, along with a small bag. I put a few bills in, and the bag does not budge. I frown, thinking I may have ordered something a bit too expensive. I add two more, and nothing happens. All I have left now is a five, which I put in. The bag immediately vanishes, leaving no change behind. I've always wondered what the Brothers do with human currency, but have never asked.

         With a last glare at the table, I mutter "This had better be worth it," before picking up the drink. It's a dark red color, and the smell reminds me vaguely of wine. I try a small sip, and it turns out to be much better than I had anticipated. As a matter of fact, it's excellent. This drink is possibly even worth the amount I payed. I close my eyes and reach out with my mind slightly, just enough to get a sense of who and what is here.

         Most of them are Magi or other magical creatures, but some are those few humans who have slight gifts for magic. Nowhere near as strong as a full Magi, but enough to be a slight danger to magical creatures, and more than enough to be dangerous to regular humans. The other Magi consist of only one other Necromancer, several Mindwalkers who appear to be sharing a telepathic conversation, and about a half dozen Elementalists. The Necromancer feels my touch, and turns to look at me. I open my eyes and return his look, then nod once to him and return to my drink. He drops his gaze, going back to his own meal. I spend half an hour listening to the banter and talk of the other customers, but pick up absolutely nothing that seems to be related to Paul's recent demise.

         I finish my drink, get up, and walk out, planning to just go back to my dorm and meditate. But Someone Up There has fun planned out in my evening, because on the way out, I turn down an alley that has someone in it. Actually, several someones. I concentrate a bit, barely making out a small amount of magical energy. I focus more, and I walk towards them, listening for any conversation, and as I turn the corner, I find  three guys I guess to be close to my own age, and I mentally name them as Jacket Guy, Bald Guy, and Short Guy. I walk closer, and examine the way they are dressed, which changes my opinions about them. They appear to all be students from Old Oak High, the prep school near the Academy. They all have their backs turned to me, almost like they are conversing, but I cannot hear anything.
         Suddenly the one in the jacket turns, and I come to a dead stop, recognizing him as another Pyrite. The other two turn around, and I glance at them briefly to confirm that they are too. The bald one's eyes suddenly glow a blood red, and the other's eyes follow. I step back, since I am fairly sure this means they are newly changed. Which means not only are they hungry and out of control, but also that a vampire might be nearby. The bald one suddenly lunges forward like a freight train, an enraged, starving Pyrite that was about twice my size when human. I dart to the side and he pulls himself to a stop, turning to face me again. I glance briefly at the others, but apparently this one is the leader of the pack.

         He holds both hands out briefly, and claws abruptly shove up from his fingernails, shredding weapons about eight inches long. I take another step back, unsure exactly what to do. He barrels at me in another clumsy, hunger-induced rush, and once again I just step out of the way. He swivels about, panting, starving, and angry. Since it seems this is not part of the plan, the one in the jacket releases claws of his own and charges at my back while the leader comes at me again from the front. I throw myself to the right and they almost hit each other, barely managing to halt their momentum. Seeing this, the third Pyrite releases his own claws and charges me.

         Which is when things get bad, as some guy comes walking down the alley, but when he sees what is happening, he starts running. I spare a second of concentration to glance at him, it looks like he is also a student, and probably a friend of theirs. I hurl myself back to get away from the three Pyrites, and they come at me again. The last guy though, apparently has no idea what is going on, but he draws a gun. I'm not sure what type, since not only do I know almost nothing about guns, but the gun itself distracts me.

         Now, things are starting to look grim. The three rush at me, finally provoking me into bringing the Dagger of Tribunal into my right hand instead of just dodging, my former hesitation gone. As they get close, I charge back at the one to the right, block his claws with the dagger, grab him with one arm, and toss him to the left so he slams into one of his friends. I knock both of them down, but the one in the jacket was closer to me, so I will a brief surge of speed into my body, dart at him, and slice at his claws, hoping the dagger can do the job. It does, and he stops and stares at his empty hand dully, apparently not expecting that.

         I bring my left hand up again to slam him on the side of the head, using all my strength I can to fling him into the wall, when the one standing in the back fires at me. He shoots at me three times in a row, and I desperately attempt to throw myself out of the way. On a normal day, I might be able to outmaneuver the bullets with some luck, but I feel good tonight,and I manage to twirl around them with something almost approaching ease, though I have to catch the third with a brief shadow shield in my free hand.  His jaw practically drops when he sees I am still standing, but he has an excellent reply. He points the gun back up and starts shooting again. I jump to the right as bullets rip past me, and I decide it's time to go.

         The only problem is, if I leave the Pyrites will devour the poor guy. The poor stupid guy. He fires again, and once again I have to catch the shot with a brief shield, but this time the bullet reflects off the shield and slams into the leader. It tears through his right shoulder, but he pretty much ignores it and jumps back up, followed by the other two. I consider using another dagger, but instead I just step back again, setting myself for the charge. The Pyrites rush at me again, but I throw my dagger, willing enough power into it to keep one of them down for a bit. As the other two close in, I recall it to my hand, and when the lead one lunges at me, I grab his outstretched arm again, noticing the claws have regrown already. I shove him at the second one as hard as I can. Unable to move in time, the short one's claws go straight through the leader's throat. They both start to move, but the short one is quicker, and his claws rip his leader's head off, scattering a liquid too dark to be blood on the ground and walls. The body falls, and I spring forward to attack at the point of vulnerability.

         The Pyrite leans back, throwing his arm up, and my dagger cuts straight through it like...a cliche, scattering more blood everywhere. The arm falls to the ground, but my target is too enraged to notice, and he grabs me by the throat with his remaining hand. And this is the reason I tried to stay away from them, because he is much too strong for me. He lifts me up, and slams me back into the wall. I shudder, and he  beats me against it again. Pain flares in my side, and I almost lose consciousness, but I somehow manage to call on my power, replacing the fires of pain with ice and bringing me back to reality. I drop the Dagger of Heaven into my other hand, and start slicing at the Pyrite's stomach as quickly as I can. It shreds, and I am covered in the dark blood-stuff, but he just roars and slams me into the wall again. I keep slashing, and he suddenly drops back, then falls to the ground. I almost stop, just for a second of breath, but instead slam the Dagger of Heaven into the thing's neck, decapitating it.

         I lean on my dagger, breathing hard, and a shot pings against the wall next to me. I throw myself back against the wall, facing the shooter. I am more tired than I can recall being, but I think I can run this last guy off. I pick my arms back up, drawing power in again for a last burst which will hopefully impress him into running. I sprint for him, dodging one shot, and flipping another off to the side with a dagger. I barely stop to decapitate the last Pyrite, and keep running. He gets nervous, and his aim goes along with nerves. He starts shooting rapidly, and I barely think about it as I run up the side of one of the walls, still heading for him. He shifts his aim upwards a bit, and shots bounce off the walls around me as I use a small shield to block another. How many bullets does this idiot have? I flip myself over to the other wall and keep running, and he finally has to reload. I think. I get back on the ground, within meters of him now, the Dagger of Tribunal back in its sheath on my chest, and he suddenly starts shooting again. I hurl myself up in a forward flip, landing in front of him, and slap the gun with my free hand, sending it spinning up into the sky and out of sight. Now he looks terrified, probably wondering what fiendish plot I have for him. If he knows the word plot. Or fiendish. I lean in and whisper "Believe it or not, monsters do exist. I'm one of them. I think you should run."

         He stares at me for a second, but only until I raise my right hand, which makes him turn and sprint away. I start to relax, but I suddenly hear sirens. I groan, and run at the wall again, using a hand to flip myself over and up on top. I run to the other side of the rooftop and go straight over, flipping so that I come down relatively unharmed. Once I hit the ground, I jog back to the Academy without looking back once. Truly though, I was incredibly lucky. If those Pyrites had not been freshly created, I would have been toast. They would have been stronger, faster, and much harder to kill. Magi I may be, but I'm not ready for even Pyrites yet. Before I go to sleep, I resolve to change that.