The Necromancer

Year 1,000

The Deep Forest, a calm and serenely suspicious place. It had the most beautiful wood and leaves of any other forest on Templara, but the shadows were so ominous and unfriendly, one could get lost in an entire whole other world simply by staring into the dense, thick woods and into the dark unknown.

A flash of light rapidly bloomed throughout the entire forest, and then sucked back into a point so to reveal a man shrouded in reddish-brown robes. He took a deep breath, his skin unnaturally pale. He had blood red eyes and pitch black hair hanging down from his forehead. He took another deep breath, taking in the scent of the thick air. Tattoos lined up and down his body, made up of magical symbols and near-psychedelic images. He coughed brutally, stumbling towards the light at the edge of the forest. He did not look back, but based on the singed forest around him, his appearance did not come without drama.

Right as he walked out of the forest's dense trees, the blinding sun practically radiated off the lush green grass.

A man's voice echoed from afar, "Oi, who's that?"

The red-eyed man looked up, and gazed upon a caravan full of carriages, carts, and an absurdly tall man was standing on the edge of the road, which was only a few yards away. "What's ya name laddy?"

The man took in another deep, calming breath as he rolled his shoulders back and blinked. "Xala Svoboda."

"Ah, I was afraid ye didn't speak our tongue. Pleasure to meet ya Xala. Would ya like to join our group?"

A well dressed man walked over, with a funny little mustache and a stern look on his face. "What is the meaning of this? Why have we stopped? Who is this!?"

"This man 'ere's name is Xala." The Strong-Man said enthusiastically. "Can he join?"

Xala looked up from under his hood and made eye contact with the ringmaster.

"Hmmm...he looks albino, but he has black hair. What type of special thing does he have that would make him good for the circus?"

"What are your names?" Xala asked in a calm, serene voice as he lifted his head to look up at the two. He was at least 5'8. He did not seem threatening whatsoever compared to these giants.

The ringmaster then said, "My name is Frederick Naun, and this is Ivan. He never had a last name."

Ivan happily nodded.

"Now, what can you do?" Frederick put his hands in his pockets as he watched skeptically.

Xala looked around.

Then, he saw a dead snake under a caravan cart wheel. He walked over, his robes flowing through the crisp, wonderful air as he seemed to slide across the road. As he reached the snake, he held out his inked hands.

Within the next second, the snake was squirming violently, hissing and writhing back to life. Xala then looked at the wheel, and the entire carriage began to lift and tip upward. The snake slithered free and came to Xala's side. When the man looked away, the carriage slammed back to the ground with a loud thud. He looked towards dozens of freaks staring directly at him with wide, horrified eyes.

He then spread out his arms, and bowed gracefully.

As the crowd slowly began clapping, Xala then twisted his wrist and made the snake slithered towards them at a speed that was wholly unnatural. The snake then flew into the air and flew as if it was swimming through water. It obviously did not do loops and somersaults, but it still did amazing tricks and spirals.

Finally, it landed on the ground like a ballerina-gymnast, spinning wildly as it slithered back into a bundle of rings.

The entire crowd suddenly roared and clapped maddeningly loud. As if the literal resurrection of the dead was completely dismissable as opposed to a snake doing dog and bird tricks all at once.