The Undead Sorcerer

Chapter Five

We finally reach the Village of Old Grove. It's dirtier than I remember it. It's a shame on the kingdom to let a capital city go to waste like this. During its glory days, this village was a bustling business center for trade and supply of goods. Now, it looks near ruins. On the other hand, if King Peter can make this work, he'll gain more honor and credit among the townspeople as a young king. We cross the river into the village, passing by trash and barrels of common waste. I spot many establishments, including a church, farms, and homes, in dire need of maintenance. We pass by on our way to our lodging. Wherever we plan on staying must be in reasonable walking distance. We should be able to accomplish something while here. Finally, we reach the Palace of Administration. It's perhaps the only functioning place in this godforsaken village, and it'll be home for some time now. Upon being let in and shown to the residential side of the building, Dylan takes off like a wild child. He darts, flickering like a blown-out candle and reappearing like a spark a distance away before running off. It's no wonder the authorities never caught him stealing; he's a store owner's worst nightmare. I have to admit, the palace is a wonder. Though it doesn't have the pristine elegance of the royal palace, the age and design of the cold grey walls are charming.

"It's beautiful," Justina notices as we haul our things inside. Palace guards assist in bringing a bulk, but these guys don't have any manners. They're throwing things and swearing, and one pocketed someone's items. I take a room and give the place a once over. There's clean water in the washstand, the blankets smell clean, and the floors appear to have been swept. I shouldn't expect less for lodgings arranged by the nobility, but after walking through the village I didn't have high hopes for much. Outside my quarters, someone is running through the hallways. It is no surprise, Dylan.

"This is going to be quite the vacation," Dylan enthuses, appearing on a window ledge, soaking in the sunlight.

"Yeah, a real treat," I sneer, "Should you be picking a room, resting before we begin working?" I point out, extra emphasis on working.

"I'm surprised you can think of resting with Gardiner constantly trying to pick a fight. You might wake up and find your head rolling off your pillow," Dylan fires back. His quick snapiness has been quite annoying, but that last one had a point. Matthew did reach for his sword before I scared him off. I didn't give you enough credit; you were paying attention.

"Matthew? He wasn't worth my time," I say with a shrug, "What would you have done?" I inquire.

"Me? Um... If I had your magic, I would have put him in his place. He wanted a fight, and I would have given it to him," Dylan supposes, "You have legendary magic; why not use it?" he wonders.

"Because people don't like ugly things. Be careful what you wish for," I snap, though I feel bad for being so cynical with the kid. I should explain myself better. "It's not safe magic. Necromancy. It's incredibly dangerous. It should not taken lightly," I warn him, but he's already disappeared. I have to give the kid props; he rivals some of the best assassins regarding stealth. I didn't even realize he'd disappeared – well done, Dylan. I gaze out the window overlooking the courtyard. The garden below is overrun with weeds such that if it had any patio furniture or pavement who would know? Morgan and Edward will have a field day with this place. Someone is coming, and I sense magic energy. The two from the Ordo Sanctus, Henry and Justina.

"Still exploring the castle?" Justina calls.

"A little, it's a magnificent palace," I tell them.

"Dinner will be served soon, but I was hoping to meet with some of the building's administration," Henry states.

"Hm, I hope they're serving wine with dinner," I comment. I may appear like a reckless drunk, but the alcohol helps potentiate the medicine. If there's no alcohol, I'll probably have to take a second dose and dwindle my supplies even faster. There has to be a tavern in town if it comes to it. I'm worried already, but that shouldn't be my top concern. A chef's finest cooking wafts over my nose. Truly it smells heavenly. Oh, this is going to be fun when I get sick later. I'll have to play it weak and say it's from alcohol sickness or something. That's it, or say I'm weak from the journey. I'll never hear the end of it, but it's better than explaining that my body can't consume food. Justina stops before the banquet hall. Gas lighting illuminates the hall, decorated with a bouquet of white flowers and a soft cream tablecloth.