"You have a powerful scent of death on you," The monster, aka the Necromancer, states as Hope and I walk into his view. "Uh-huh, it's quite lovely, really."
"I thought we could talk," I state, approaching the bars of his cell as I use my magic to unlock his cuffs.
He rises with a sigh, stepping forward slightly. "Such a puny creature dares to dalliance with The Almighty Necromancer?"
"Well, here's the thing about that," Hope begins.
"You don't exist," I finish, a smirk to rival my father sitting on my cheeks.
"I won't fall for your mind games."
"This isn't a game," I respond.
"Let me lay it out for you. You died, you were in a dark place for what felt like an eternity, until suddenly, you were pulled into the light with a singular, inexplicable mission to retrieve a knife," Hope states.
"Do continue."
"It's been the same with all the creatures that came before you," I state as he steps forward. "A dragon, a gargoyle, an Arachne, a dryad."
"Bah! Such creatures exist only in fiction," the Necromancer insists.
"No. They've been erased from history," Hope states.
"And so have you," I mock.
"That's preposterous. I'm world-renowned! People tremble at the sound of my name!"
"Don't believe us?" Hope questions as I smirk beside her. "Read up, she states, handing him the books through the bars. He hesitates for a few moments, taking the books suddenly while remaining eye contact with her.
_________
It's an hour later now, and Hope and I sit in chairs across from the cell, as "the Almighty Necromancer" jumps around, having a tantrum like a three-year-old and shouting.
"A lifetime's work, my legacy, reduced to something as-as pitiful as a brand of sorcery! Where I am barely a footnote! Who's responsible for this vile affront?" He questions us, angry as ever as he approaches the bars.
"That's what we're hoping you can help us figure out," I respond, Hope nodding. The Necromancer pauses for a moment, staring at us, before picking up his flipped chair and taking a seat calmly.
"Well, then, I'm all ears."
"If you want to get to the bottom of this, then we need to know who's communicating with you," Hope explains immediately.
"No one's communicating with me! My mind is a steel trap," he tries to deny.
"But you knew to resurrect Alaric's dead fiancee right after he mentioned her to the dryad. That's why he had questions. It can't be a coincidence," I state.
"You're all coming after the same thing, communicating in some way, so who's pulling the strings?" Hope asks.
"I am no puppet!" He exclaims, standing suddenly as H and I just stare at him. "It's less a voice, more an instinct," He begins to explain, pacing. "I simply know things."
"Like you know you're here to retrieve a knife and return it to a place called Malivore," I ask slowly as if he were a child.
"If I return the knife to Malivore, I will be free," He states grimly.
"Of what?" My sister and I ask in sync.
"The blackness. The void. The empty oblivion."
"Do you ever just say things once?" I ask, exasperated.
"And more importantly, do you know how to get there?" Hope asks.
"Only that the knife will lead me."
Hope opens a book, showing him the symbol we had drawn. He steps back suddenly, a look of fear taking over his expression for a moment.
"I'm assuming you know this symbol," Hope states.
"It is the sign of the worst existential nightmare. The ultimate hell. The-"
"You're doing it again," I interrupt. "Focus. What does it mean?"
"That symbol represents what you say has happened to me. It means no one remembers you. No one celebrates you. No one mourns you. Loosely translated, it means 'permanent death,'" He states, staring into our eyes before we share a look.
YOU ARE READING
Forever & Always
Fanfiction"So, you told me about your family but... what are you?" Raf asks, gently clasping my smaller hand in his much larger one. "I'm a tribrid. Because my dad was a vampire and werewolf hybrid, my mom was a werewolf, and my grandmother was a witch, it ma...
