The Outcast and the Survivor: Chapter Two

"And what makes you think that I don't already know that?" I shoot back.

He chuckles in a deep, twisted way.

"Because I would have sensed you before. You appear here like a light wandering in darkness."

"Then what does that make you?" I reply.

"An admirer of light," he answers, his intonation changing from confrontational to something much more amiable. "It's true that many who hide in darkness cannot comprehend or tolerate light, just as most who bask in its glory despise any creature who dwells in its absence. As for me, I come from a place so wretched and black that I prefer not to quench a flame when it wanders my way, though do not doubt me capable of it."

Whatever calmness I had possessed flees at this threat, and I take a hesitant step back. I should not have followed the shadows this far. I should have gone the opposite way. What I carry with me is surely important, and a being as powerful and cunning as the one before me is sure to figure that out. I need to get out of here before it is too late.

"Going somewhere, princess?" he says mischievously.

I turn to run, but am stopped before I can even move at the sight of what has snuck up behind me. The soldiers who were once lifeless now stand tall, barring me from leaving. I spin back to face the creature who now holds my fate in his hands.

"What are you?" I demand.

"That is hard to say, because there is no one answer that really satisfies the question, but you can call me the Necromancer. That is what many have come to call me, and I think you can tell why. I do not want you to be afraid of me."

"Then why stop me from leaving?"

"Because there are those in these lands who would consume a light rather than learn the good it could bring about."

"So you mean to use me," I say.

"Are you always this cynical?" he criticizes.

The pointed question immediately disarms my skepticism. That's the first time in my life that anyone has ever accused me of being something other than hopeful or positive, but again, I stop myself from letting it make me trust him. He is in my head, after all, and could be playing my emotions against me, the same way he figured out who I am.

"If you want me to believe what you say, you need to prove it to me, and that includes promising that I am free to leave your presence whenever I say I want to," I insist.

"Very well," he concedes.

I hear the sound of metal falling to the ground behind me, and I turn around to find that the soldiers are once again lying on the ground. I use the opportunity to study my surroundings once more and plan an escape just in case. Some of the closer buildings remain intact, and I could easily run into one and out the back to get out of the Necromancer's sight, though I'm afraid he'll still be able to sense where I am.

"You, too, must be honest with me," he continues.

I become uneasy, getting a sense that he has something very specific in mind. His eyes are not on mine, but on my pack, which is draped over my right shoulder.

"What is it you carry with you?"

At that instant, something behind me rushes my way. I spin around, expecting it to be the soldiers, but they remain on the ground perfectly still. Rather, a person has emerged from a building to my right, one opposite to the direction I spun in, too quickly for me to defend myself. I am grabbed, and a sharp blade is pressed against my throat. My attacker then forces me to again face the Necromancer.

His eyes are not on me, but over my

shoulder at whoever is holding me.

"Once again you pass before my gaze unseen, ranger," the Necromancer says, almost playfully.

I try to free myself by pushing back against the person holding me, but am gripped so strongly that I'm helpless to move.

"Some people are not susceptible to your tricks," my captor replies, his voice deep and aged but full of conviction.

"Or na?ve enough to assume that I've demonstrated all of my capabilities," the Necromancer finishes, his tone suggesting that they have crossed paths before.

"Let's not drag this out," the man responds. "She comes with me, or no one gets her."

The Necromancer doesn't say anything back, which for some reason bothers me, as though his words of protection and trust before meant absolutely nothing.