The Mirror

The Mirror pt. 1

"No," he said, without bothering to turn around. It was the same answer he'd been giving for the last three days. Unfortunately, Tom proved to be a persistent fellow.

"Where's your sense of scientific endeavour?"

"It's non-existent," he replied, which was true enough. Jayden Ward was the sort of guy who believed that it was a lot easier to accept that the earth was round, things fell down and that the sky was blue, than to waste valuable time wondering about why. He'd much rather be using the time productively to beat his latest Space Invaders score.

It was one of the reasons that he simply wasn't interested when Tom suggested a scientific study on necromancy.

The other major reason was that as the only necromancer Tom knew, Jayden would have to be part of the experiment. As someone well acquainted with the nature of necromancy he didn't fancy the idea. If there was one thing being around the dead had taught him, it was that they were liable to lead to only suffering for those who sought to use them.

"Ah come on," Tom whined. "This could lead to the discovery of the century!"

"Only if it's a very dull century. Are there any chips in the cupboard? I fancy chips."

He didn't need to be looking at Tom to feel his glare. "Why don't you get up and look? I don't see why I should be helping you when you clearly don't care enough to lend me a hand."

Jayden paused the game and twisted around on the couch to face his friend. "Now that's just petty."

Tom raised his hands. "You drove me to it. Do you want to see just how petty I can get?"

No. No, frankly he didn't, but he had the strong suspicion he was going to have to anyway. "If there's popcorn."

He ignored the foul reply, deciding it time to vacate the couch. Tossing the controller aside, he rose, sparing Tom a grin as he passed on his way to the kitchen.

The chips, if there were any, would be in the top cupboard, and he had to stretch to open the cupboard door. Despite the general belief that necromancers were tall and intimidating, he'd never quite managed to reach five foot six, and was far too busy being optimistic to intimidate anyone.

On the subject of stereotypes, capes, cloaks, robes and any other such garments were also out the window, for practicality's sake (and what was left of his dignity). It was plain jeans and a T-shirt, unless there was a formal occasion, in which case he wore a hat too.

As it turned out, there weren't any chips, so he settled for a box of Shapes and began to munch, nursing his ferocious appetite.

"Not going to offer me any?" Tom asked, clearly in the mood to complain about anything.

"I don't know, do you want to see how petty I can get?" Jayden said, and silently reprimanded himself for antagonising him further. It wouldn't be long before Tom threatened not to pay his half of the rent, and then there would be problems.

It didn't matter that his friend could probably do without the extra calories, having never led what could be defined as an active lifestyle. He knew full well that pointing out the fact would not improve matters and he needed to control his mouth.

Tom leaned over and snatched the box away, stealing a handful before dumping the rest in the bin. Very petty indeed. His friend paused for a moment to compose himself, slicking his greasy brown fringe back from his eyes. The face he put on next was one Jayden recognised well; it was his debating face. Things were getting serious. Still, Jayden couldn't help himself.

"Are you going to say sorry?" he asked.

Tom decided to ignore that remark.

"You're thinking of this as too much of a chore," he said, gently now that he had pulled himself together for another attempt at persuasion. "Think of what this opportunity could offer you."

Jayden considered this. "Is it another packet of biscuits?"

"No, I-"

"Because I think that's the very least I deserve."

Tom seemed to be having trouble holding himself together, and Jayden watched the tick beneath his grey eyes with interest.

"That's not what I mean. I mean, what could the information we discover offer you?"

"It's not biscuits, is it?"

"No! Just... forget the biscuits."

"I'm finding that quite hard. You really shouldn't have thrown them away."

"It's your own fault!"

"What did I do?"

Tom took a deep measured breath, momentarily looking away from the other young man's face incase the apparent urge to punch him became too strong.

"Okay... okay. Just listen. Necromancy is not actually hard for you, it comes naturally. That means that this experiment won't actually be that much trouble from your perspective. It's me who will be doing most of the work, setting up equipment, sorting out the brief. All you need to do is work a little magic. Bearing that in mind, I think that for you, the potential benefits are worth the effort."

Jayden hesitated. No stupid reply this time, his thoughts had managed to switch on to a serious track, one he rarely dared to stay on. "It's not a party trick. It's not like you're just asking me to click my fingers."

"I know," Tom said, having decided that masking his eagerness with sympathy was a great move.

Jayden shook his head. "You don't - you really don't. Necromancy is... it's addictive. It corrupts... I can't afford to use it whenever. Playing around with it is dangerous, to say the least, for me and for everyone else."

Tom grinned. "Don't you see? That's exactly why we need to do this!"

Bemusement seemed appropriate. "Perhaps I'm missing something here? Didn't I just say it was a bad idea? Has the definition of 'bad idea' changed recently?"

Tom was adamant though. "Necromancy is exactly like you say, but you don't know why, right? If we could study it a little, we might unmask the answers. Maybe we could find a way to stop the bad parts. A way for it to be taken away..."

He left the tantalising thought hanging in the air, and as much as he liked to think himself beyond temptation, Jayden was very much tempted.

He'd often wished to throw his power away, but it was one of necromancy's quirks that it could never be given up. He had to live with it and everything it entailed.

It sickened him, really. Necromancy was at heart an art made to corrupt, and it threatened to ruin him every day. Of course, there were perks, it wasn't all bad... but he would have given a lot just to lose that little voice in the back of his head that told him to kill, kill, and bask the ecstatic cold that death brought.

Even at that moment he could sense the flare of Tom's life, and knew that some part of him longed to extinguish it. He had the feeling that contending with that part was slowly driving him mad.

Yes, he was tempted by the offer, and as accustomed as he was to ignoring temptations, he felt this was something he could not let go. Tom had laid the bait, and he was going to take it.

"Okay... I just hope I won't regret this."

Tom smiled broadly. "You won't."

If only he could share his friend's conviction.