Withering Ambition

A Forbidden Wish Granted

Glancing back and forth towards the brick wall in front of him, Necron paced from one end of the courtyard to the other. He had just had a baffling conversation.

Why had that woman asked him about dark magic? Who was she? She seemed very interested in him... No matter. He had to be cautious, he couldn't be sure that she wasn't trying to get him in trouble. He only shared what was already publically known, that he held a grudge against the academy for their hesitance to embrace dark magic, and that he wanted to figure out what killed his parents.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the dean of the mage academy approaching him. A sense of annoyance filled him as he watched as the dean surveyed the courtyard with a sense of dignity. 

Ever since the Calamity 17 years ago, the new dean had always held a sort of arrogance as to his position. He believed that he would never make the same mistakes that the previous dean had made. He kept all of Kaeman's spells and the Necronomicon itself inside the Vault, the most protected place in all of the kingdom. Hundreds of soldiers guarded it at any time, and innumerable magical barriers prevented passage into it. 

But the Vault called out to Necron. He felt compelled towards the magic that was held within. The dean knew this, and as such, had tried to take on the role of mentor to Necron, to shy him away from forbidden magic. Necron resented the dean for this, why couldn't he just let him live his life?

After a heated argument with the dean about the Vault and what it contained, the likes of which was not uncommon conversation between the two, Necron stormed back to his dorm room, fuming once again about the ignorance that the dean displayed. 

To add salt to the wound, the dean had brought up Necron's ineptitude in the realm of magic. His words echoed through Necron's mind...

"Even if we allowed you to access the Vault, how could you hope to use those spells? You can't even use regular magic with competency!"

Necron clenched his fists. It was different, he thought to himself. The magic inside the Vault was different. It was meant for him. He had to prove it. He knew that he could use it. Why else would it call out to him?

Necron slumped down on his cot and flipped through his Grimoire. He had been at the academy for 5 years now, and was still taking second year classes. He understood the spells just fine, but it seemed that he did not have a natural affinity for them. It was the wrong type of magic... He needed... something darker.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, Necron heard a knock on his door. He got out of the bed, rubbing his eyes to clear out the fog that had settled. Opening the door, he caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure running down the hallway away from his room. He was puzzled. What was the purpose of that?

But suddenly, as his conscience returned to him fully, he could feel a calling. All too similar to the one he felt when he was near the Vault. But it was closer, more powerful... It was right behind him. 

Turning around, he saw it. An ancient scroll, inscribed with runes that seemed to float off of the page. Necron scrambled to lock his door in fear that he was being tricked. Picking up the scroll slowly, he instantly understood the runes transcribed on the paper. He knew it! All he needed was the right kind of magic... 

An enamourous look creeped over Necron's face, his eyes seemingly transfixed on the scroll in front of him. It held all of his attention, and slowly, he began to smile for the first time in weeks. He held in front of him, a page from the Necronomicon.

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