Lord of the Manor

CCCCRRRREEEAAAKKK!

I cringed as the large metal gate finally pulled free a little from the many vines that overgrew the high stone wall surrounding the abandoned manor.

“Any louder and you might wake the dead,” I muttered to my companion as he squeezed into the narrow opening.

Grunting, he used his back to widen the gap another foot or so, but when the vines refused to give anymore, he only shrugged and slipped inside. Grimacing, I gathered my robes close and turned sideways to slip through after him.

The expansive backyard looked as it if had once been a grand garden, but was now choked with weeds and other debris. Brick paths ran between the raised garden areas held back by retaining walls, but stones had collapsed in several places. In the fading light, a thin low mist hung over the portions flooded by standing water.

“Looks like no one has lived here in years,” Tharrin said, easily hopping over fallen branches.

“Roughly a decade,” I specified. “The manor hasn’t been inhabited since a revolt by the locals. There have been reports of strange activity around here lately though, so it’s worth investigating even if it isn’t related to the academy kidnapping.”

“Important enough we need to investigate now? Why not wait until morning?”

I looked at him and frowned. “You’re not afraid of an empty house, are you? You seemed far more courageous when I hired you.”

“I don’t usually deal with haunted places. I was under the impression you hired me for my stealth and infiltration skills.”

“Well, you got us into the yard, so you’ve done that half of the job properly. Although you could be a little more quiet...”

We stepped onto the patio that ran the length of the back of the large manor; several logs lie across the main back door, effectively blocking them shut.

“Strange place for a log pile,” he said, making an attempt to roll the top trunk off, but only managed breaking away chunks of rotted bark.

“Barricade,” I said, extending a hand toward it, but didn’t sense any unusual magic about it.

He dropped the wood and brushed his hands off. “How do you keep anything out by putting it outside of the house?”

I gave him a grim smile. “More likely it was the locals...to keep someone in.” I headed left toward the wing that extended from the back of the manor. “The story went that most of the inhabitants were killed during the raid.”

“What was the cause of the revolt?”

I was reluctant to answer. “The rumor is the Lord was practicing black magic. After an official investigation, they reported nothing unusual, but the locals took it into their own hands. The Lord’s family, servants, and even the investigation team were all killed. Supposedly the manor and its surrounding land have been cursed since.”

“If they’re afraid of the place, who’s causing the strange activity?”

Trying the door here, its rusty door handle broke off in my hand; trying to shove inward, the door didn’t give. “Seems to be barred from inside. Why not find me a way in, then perhaps I can find out?”

Even in the dark, I could see the color drain from his face as he tore some ivy from a window to peek in.

“Looks like a kitchen,” he said, stepping back to survey the wall, “meaning the servants quarters are likely the rooms above.”

He went to a tall tree that had fallen against the house. Nimbly scaling it to reach a second floor window, he broke what little glass was left in the frame and slipped inside. Only then a moment passed before there was a THUMP from inside, then a grunt as the door was tugged inward.

“Seems abandoned to me,” he said; I held back a sigh as he let me pass. “How soon can we leave?”

“I really shouldn’t let you do this, but as additional compensation, feel free to loot whatever you want.”

His eyebrows raised. “That’s not against a code of conduct for you?”

“I’m not officially bound to any Order, but seeing as this place is ‘abandoned’ as you say, then it’s not exactly stealing if there’s no owner. Just don’t take anything that looks strange or unusual.”

The fear in his eyes seemed to vanish as he smiled for the first time since we discovered the place. “Just remember we have a contract, so don’t leave without me.”

“You just remember that too,” I said as he crossed to a large cabinet.

The kitchen felt unnaturally dark with all its windows overgrown, so I conjured a small orb of light to hover over a shoulder. The counters were covered in a thick layer of dust and moldy dishes. The legs of a table were broken on one end while more dishes lay shattered around it. There were only two other ways out of the room: An archway to the right that opened on a dining area, the other a set of stone stairs leading up and down.

Approaching the archway, I glanced back to see if Tharrin was going to follow, but he was busy eagerly examining cupboards.

Thieves will be thieves...

The long dining table was intact, but the laid out dishes were in disarray. A few sideboards lined the walls, but some of their doors barely hung on by their hinges; inside them, I could make out dishes that even now might still be valuable.

The locals must really think this place is cursed if they were too afraid to loot the place afterward. If that thief plans to loot everything, I’ll have plenty of time to look around...

Passing through the far arch, I entered a wide hallway that ran the length of the back of the manor.

Across the hall, double doors had been beaten inward, and peeking inside, I discovered it to be a blackened two-story library; enough structural damage had been done to the far left corner of the room that much of the front wall and large fireplace on the side wall had collapsed.

Such a waste of books. There might’ve been decades — or even centuries — worth of knowledge here.

Following the hall to the center of the manor, the hall opened onto a large front entry. The large front doors lie in ruins on either side of the door frame. What might’ve been regal staircases lining either wall up to the second floor in the past now had rotting steps and rusty bannisters.

“Why didn’t we come in this way?” Tharrin asked, sounding slightly annoyed as he walked up beside me, dusting off an intricately painted teapot.

“Simply because we didn’t arrive from this direction,” I said, attuning my senses as I waved a hand around. “Although, were this place inhabited by anything evil, it’d be too obvious for us to enter...discretely...”

“Something wrong?”

Feeling a strong presence, I cursed myself for not already trying to detect any magic in the previous rooms. “I’m detecting traces of...something... Either something magical passed through fairly recently, or it’s the residual effect that hasn’t completely faded from some time ago — which isn’t likely.”

Something shattered and I looked back to see he had dropped the teapot.

“Well, I’m ready to go. Let’s — ”

I shot my free palm toward him in a ‘stop’ gesture. ”We aren’t going anywhere yet. I should figure out what it’s coming from first.”

Focusing harder, I went to stand at the entrance where it felt stronger, but moving to check the bottoms of either staircase, the presence faded. It picked up again when I returned to the hallway, getting slightly stronger as I took a few steps in the direction of the far end of the manor.

“If we aren’t leaving, then I’m going to explore a bit more. Is the upstairs safe since you didn’t detect anything on the stairs?”

“Fine, but come get me if anything suspicious happens,” I said, starting to wave him off, then paused to take the orb from my shoulder to pass to him. “Take this with you for light. It will last a little while, but you can smother it at anytime with your hands.”

“Thanks. Probably safer than trying to make a torch. Wouldn’t want to risk burning what’s left of the place down around us.”

“Yes, and quieter,” I said, creating a new orb as he crossed to a stair.

“I can be quiet when I need to,” he muttered, but starting up, each step groaned.

I continued following the trail of the lingering magic, passing more ransacked rooms until reaching the end of the hall where it turned left onto another set of stairs leading up and down. The magic was strongest heading down, and even before I began descending, my nose was instantly overpowered by a strong odor of rancid vinegar.

Of course the manor would have a wine cellar, and a lot of it has probably gone to waste too.

The area at the bottom was wide open, stretching the width of the manor from front to back, and perhaps a third of it across; several stout wooden poles and beams supported the ceiling. Centered on the far wall, I could just make out the opening of a hallway.

I started across, but as I got closer to the opening, I began to make out a faint glow from somewhere down the hall. Quickly hiding the orb inside a fold of my robe, I focused on the magic residue again. Not only had its intensity grown far stronger, but there was now a tinge of dark magic to it.

Necromancy! Someone new did move in, which confirms the report of strange activity.

I briefly debated returning upstairs to find Tharrin, but dismissed this, both because of his unwillingness to deal with anything supernatural, and because it was likely he wouldn’t know how to handle a necromancer if they were still present.

Using the corner of the hall for cover, I strained my eyes to peer down it, barely making out three doorways along it. Two of the doors, both closed, were evenly spaced along the lefthand wall. The third was about halfway down on the righthand wall, this one open, and where the light came from.

Considering what Tharrin had mentioned about possibly starting a fire, I extinguished the orb and willed my left hand to begin cooling, preparing to frost blast whoever might be inside if they should immediately become hostile.

Keeping my back against the lime mortar wall, I inched along it, listening for anything, but the noise I didn’t finally make out was very faint. There was a cracking of flames, but the weak light coming through the doorway certainly wasn’t bright enough to be from a full fledged fire.

Making it to the doorway, I carefully around the frame. Crates and barrels were stacked around the right half, but if they contained food, it would have rotted long ago; the left half of the room was piled with several pieces of furniture. A lone small round table at the center of the left half had lit candles on it, but the sound of flames came from beyond it all, where a tall overturned bookshelf revealed an opening in the wall.

And that would explain why the investigation team found no evidence of black magic... There must have been some very powerful spells in place to hide that from detection!

Nearing the secret opening, the sounds grew: A kettle was boiling over the fire, pages fluttered among someone’s muttering, and...

Rattling chains? Perhaps a caged animal?

“Come in!” a male voice called before I even had a chance to peek inside, his tone jovial despite me rudely trying to sneak up on them. “I’m not so new to magic that I can’t detect when fellow magic users are nearby!”

Damn! Maybe I should’ve gone to find —

“I’m also not so old that my patience lasts forever.” This time there was a slight hint of annoyance. “Please come in. Explain yourself before you wear out your welcome.”

I cautiously stepped over the bookshelf, but entering the room, the tall pale figure within didn’t even turn to face me, instead remaining bent forward over a table cluttered with several candles and books.

The space was more of a cavern dug out of the ground than an actual room, sharing the same inner walls as the previous room and hallway, but the far and right hand walls of the excavation hadn’t been completed based on how the room extended out diagonally, tapering off toward where the corner of the manor above would be — or had been. I started wondering why the room would’ve been dug out this way only to realize the fireplace of the library above was directly above the far end of this room, and where the library floor had collapsed into this room. A crude fire pit was set up on the near half of the room, a small cauldron hanging above it from a tall triangular rack. Two aisles of diagonally placed bookshelves were parallel with the angle of the dug out portion of the room.

Whoever used this room must have needed a fire, so having it under an existing fireplace would’ve been a perfect cover! The flue of the chute down here must secretly connect into the library’s chimney above.

The rattling of chains broke the silence as I waited for the necromancer to speak first, but peering at the left wall again, this time I noticed two sets of shackles secured to it — one pair was occupied by a small figure, their clothes filthy and limbs bruised.

The child from the academy!

I twisted angrily back toward the necromancer. “I won’t deny you caught me off guard, but I’m only willing to explain myself if you are willing to do the same — my promise as one magic user to another.” I indicated the boy when he finally glanced over his shoulder.

At first frowning, he then smiled, almost seeming about to laugh as he turned fully around. “Well met! Don’t mind the boy, he’s only drugged with a sleeping potion. I promise I have no intention of killing him — if I don’t have to.” His dark green robes were pulled tightly around his narrow frame; raising his open hands to show he was unarmed, I let the mist fade from my hand. “Your reaction tells me you recognize him, so I’m going to assume he is why you’re here? Yet you didn’t come charging in, attacking on sight, so I’ll also assume you’re not here on official orders, such as to kill me?”

I hated how accurate his assumptions were, but a promise was a promise.

“That is partially true. I do know who he is, but most of the kingdom is likely aware of him since a reward for his safe return has spread across the country. However, it’s also simply a coincidence I’m here. I’ve heard rumors of strange activity in the area, and knowing a bit about this region, I thought I’d look into it. As for killing you, up until now I had no reason to attack because I didn’t suspect you of anything. Since I don’t know all the facts though, I’m willing to give you the benefit of a doubt as long as you’re still willing to fully explain yourself. Release the boy and I will make another promise not to kill you.”

His smile widened, this time letting out a brief chuckle. “Like you, I stick to my word, so I will explain myself — and agree to your truce not to kill each other.” He began crossing to the boy, but paused. “First though, tell me what you do know of this region, for it is why I’m here.”

“There was a revolt because rumors of black magic upset the local populace. Supposedly nothing was found, but the existence of this room obviously proves otherwise... By its end, the Lord, his Lady, and several servants were killed. Many others were also attacked just for being involved, including most of the investigation team, likely because the people must’ve thought they were lying about their findings.” As I spoke, his expression changed several times, as if finding some details boring, while others interesting — especially the latter ones.

“Very good. All your facts are correct, but your story is still far from complete. In fact, based on what I’ve read from the journals hidden here, I doubt anyone knew the entire truth.”

I stared at his open books, but he rushed back to them when I took a step toward the table.

“Ah, ah, ah! I’ll gladly let you peruse them after I finish explaining, but not until you understand what I’m doing here — if you let me get that far — because as a necromancer, I’m sure there’s...aspects we may not agree on.”

“The only thing I think we need to agree on is that the boy needs to be returned.”

“Tsk tsk. You really won’t understand then...”

“What’s the boy mean to you? You want to practice necromancy? Fine, I’ve already said I’m not here for you, so let him go. I return the boy, you get to continue practicing, we both end this happily.”

“The question isn’t what he means to me, but to this manor.”

"What? What’s he have to do with this place?”

“I didn’t just take this boy randomly. This was his home.”

“His...home? What do you mean, he was the child of a servant?”

“Oh, he’s far more than that. In fact, he’s the new proper lord of the manor by birthright. You see, he was the son who you just said had died — but it was the wife who was the true cause of the revolt. She was the one who was caught up in black magic, but when the villagers started suspecting her witchcraft, she framed her husband. Expecting a raid, she began digging deeper into dark magic to ensure her son would be protected. She was killed during the revolt anyway, but somehow her son did make it out alive. Maybe she ordered a servant to take him, or one snuck out with him, that I don’t know because she obviously didn’t have time to write about it during the event. The important thing is: He’s been cursed by very dark magic — demonic in nature!”

I stared at the boy, looking for any sign of danger about him. “That’s ridiculous!”

“If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to check him yourself. After reading about it though, I found it necessary to find him and bring him back here to try undoing her spells. If it isn’t dealt with, that boy will be serious trouble later — both to himself and others!”

He didn’t try stopping me when I approached the boy, and raising a hand, I already began sensing a dark presence again.

“This can’t be!” I said, twisting back. “What spells did she use, and how can they be broken? I apologize for doubting you before, but if you’re trying to save him, why would I try to stop you?”

“That’s one of the cruxes of the matter... You see, if I can’t break them, then the only alternative may be to kill him now. He’s far too dangerous to let live as he is.”

My initial reaction was a sneer, but I still found myself reconsidering.

He may be a boy, but if his curse is that powerful, is his life worth the deaths of possibly so many others? But he is a necromancer...so does he actually care about the life of the boy, or only destroying the curse itself?

“Suppose I don’t believe you about trying to save him. How do I know you won’t do something to make the curse worse — or purposely try killing him in the process?”

“On that you’ll just have to trust me, because another crux is that...I’m ashamed to admit I’m not sure I’m powerful enough. Unfortunately, the ones who could save him, such as a master or arch-necromancer, likely won’t help.”

“Because...why?”

“Who wouldn’t want an underling that’s protected by demons?”

“And you don’t?”

“Not all necromancers are inherently evil.”

“Then why does he look so battered?”

“Merely bruises from my testing — they will heal over time. He did try escaping when I tried explaining matters to him, hence the sleeping potion. If he were to return to the academy, I might not get a second chance at this.”

“Why kidnap him in the first place? Why not reveal your findings to the academy or others who could have cured him? They wouldn’t have been able to detect any evil presence about him?”

“Again, I have to admit I didn’t think that far ahead. I didn’t originally mean to kidnap him, I only meant to bring him back here, share what I found with him, then see what we could do about it. However, upon arriving, something about the house seemed to react to his presence. Fearing the worst, I felt it necessary not to let him leave, which is why I don’t think I’ll get a second chance if he gets away.”

“And that’s what you’re doing now?” I asked, peering into the cauldron; the concoction was dark orange and smelled noxious.

“I’m not quite finished, but yes. As a matter of fact...” He turned to the table to pick something up, then started toward the boy. “I was just about to draw the blood I need to move onto the final phase of the ritual. If I’ve done this correctly, a final chant will be all that’s left to cleanse his body of the curse. Hopefully...”

The knife was of a ceremonial design, its blade long and thin. Holding the tip steady as he felt around the boy’s chest, he then quickly thrust the tip between his fingers. The boy jerked awake with a groan, but the necromancer was already whirling back to the cauldron, holding an open palm under the dripping blade until it was over the mixture.

“Five drops: One to represent the host, one to represent the caster, one to represent the curse, one for the demon, and one...” He tilted the knife steeper to help a final bead collect on the tip. “...to unbind them all from each other...”

With each drop of fallen blood, the house gave a shake that increased in intensity, and when the final drop landed, the rumbling became a constant quaking, strong enough to vibrate the books and candles around the room.

“That’s...normal, right?” I asked, looking between him and the boy.

Slowly straightening up, he turned to face me, his eyes wide and face even paler than its usual tint. “Something didn’t like that...”

The rumbling continued intensifying; books fell to the floor, the candles tipped over and went out; behind me, the boy’s groaning became a shrill wail.

"What’d you do?” I shouted, forced to cover my ears.

“I — ”

WHAM!

“What the — ”

WHAM! CRACK!

Wood splintered from somewhere outside the room. A final WHAM was followed by a loud THUMP; a chill wind rushed into the room, putting out the last of the candles and reducing the fire to glowing embers. There was now an uneven thumping, accompanied by scraping of something heavy dragging across stone.

Whatever was causing the noise entered the outer room, radiating a dim purple glow. A heavily armored form slowly shuffled into view, and stepping onto the fallen bookshelf outside the hole in the wall, its figure barely cleared the opening as it entered. Its arms were off to one side, dragging a large maul that also glowed in purple runes running along its haft and the sides of its head.

The necromancer stepped forward, his voice back to a casual tone. “Who are you?”

The entity didn’t answer, instead only staring around the chamber before focusing on the boy for a moment. Finally looking back at the necromancer, its jaw dropped open to let out a long dry moan.

“Who are you?” he repeated, louder as he took a step closer. “What business do you have here?”

It wore a tattered tabard over the armor, but I could barely make out its faded emblem: A Sol encircled by many smaller rings, the symbol of the realm.

“He’s a knight?” I whispered.

“I’m guessing a paladin based on his armor style and weapon, but I don’t know how or why he’s awakened. I wasn’t doing a resurrection spell.”

“Paladin? Part of the investigation team? Was he killed in the revolt?”

“Possibly.” He glanced back at me, his frown unreassuring; he raised his voice when he addressed the figure again. “I command you to answer me! Who are you?”

Another moan before finally answering in a raspy voice. “I am...Sir Aedradin, Lord of...this manor. Risen to...protect my son.”

“The Lord was a paladin?” I asked, wide eyed. “What’s he mean he’s trying to protect the boy?”

He sneered as he looked back to me again. “I don’t know! She was practicing witchcraft, not necromancy! Her notes didn’t say anything about putting any spells on him!”

“If he’s a paladin, then we’re all on the same side to protect the boy.”

“But what is he protecting the boy from?”

“You mean protect him from us?”

As if to answer, joints and muscles popped loudly as the undead’s hands tightened on the handle of the weapon as it stepped further into the room.

“No, wait!” I stepped past the necromancer and raised my arms. “Stop! We are trying to save him too! Your wife cursed him and we’re trying to remove it!”

“No...demon...”

“Demons? No, we’re not demons! There’s no demon here — I would’ve sensed them!”

“She summoned...demon...lost control...”

A hand grabbed my shoulder to pull me back. “I think I might understand what he means...”

“Must protect...my son... Made deal...with demon.”

The necromancer leaned in close to whisper, “He’s not a paladin anymore...”

“You mean a death knight? But — ”

“Watch out!”

His swing was low and slow, but the maul still caught my leg, sending me flailing sideways.

"Stop!” the necromancer cried. “Remember your paladin oath! Repent and you can both still be saved!”

"No-o.” He took another step forward and swung the maul back the other direction.

The necromancer dropped his knife as he dived backward; the maul missed, instead knocking the rack and cauldron over with a resounding CLANG, spilling its bubbling contents across the floor toward the table.

As he stepped forward again, I clenched myself eyes shut and raised an arm to block my head despite knowing it would offer no protection against a war hammer, but the death knight continued trudging forward, more focused on the necromancer retreating further into the room.

I winced as I tried pulling my legs out of the way, thankful my robes must’ve softened his blow just enough to keep my leg from being completely broken.

When the undead was closer to the back bookshelves, a sharp whistle came from the doorway and I looked to see Tharrin peeking in. His hands trembled as he signaled me about something, but grabbing my leg to indicate it was injured, he growled and rushed over.

“What in the blazes did you do?” he hissed, grabbing me by the armpits to start dragging me toward the opening. “I was still upstairs when the whole house began shaking. I came down to look for you, but that thing was lumbering across the hall!”

“It’s a death knight! He broke his oath by making a deal with a demon. I think the demon was going to kill his son, so he offered his own soul in exchange.” I swat his hands away. “Don’t worry about me. Try freeing the boy and get him out of here first.”

CRASH!

Another swing demolished a shelf, sending papers fluttering around in the air. The necromancer was now cornered in the back of the room.

“This was not part of my contract!” he snapped, but lowered me to crouch next to the boy.

I hate to draw attention to us, but he needs help!

Focusing against the pain, I clenched a fist and created a freezing ball of ice in it.

“Hurry....” I shouted, pushing myself into a sitting position so I could fling the spell across the room.

Pulling the maul back, the ice blast caught him in the side, barely seeming to phase it, but it was still enough to make him pause and look down at the white splatter of ice across his waist, then he looked back at me; the necromancer didn’t waste any time from the distraction to dart past.

“Thanks!” he said, rushing to stand between the fire and the table as he grabbed a burning log. “But frost isn’t going to kill him.”

Chains clattered to the floor and Tharrin pulled the boy to his feet to help him hobble away. Trying to grab my hand to help me up as they passed, the boy collapsed back to the floor.

“Move!” the necromancer shouted, throwing the lit log at the death knight, but it only bounced off as he picked up another log in each hand.

I managed to roll onto both hands and a knee to begin crawling, but then noticed the necromancer beating his right-hand log across the tabletop. “What are you doing? You’re burning all the notes!”

Tharrin returned his attention to the boy and hauled him over a shoulder this time and charged from the room.

Throwing both torches at the death knight’s feet this time, he then rushed over and wrapped both arms around my torso, tugging me forward the rest of the way to the bookshelf. Clambering over it, I was shoved to the side as he then reached under the bookcase to stand it upright.

“Light these on fire!” he shouted, throwing furniture against it. “We can’t let him escape!”

My body ached, but I extended a hand to spray flames across the pile.

In response, the death knight let out harrowing wail. I expected the barricade to go flying if he tried taking a swing at it, but instead the wall in front of me suddenly shook, knocking large chunks of rock and mortar loose. Another strike and the head of the maul broke through. I brought my hand up again, aiming for the new hole, spraying more flames into it with as much intensity as I could muster; the death knight roared again in anger.

“Come on!” the necromancer said, grabbing me again.

As we limped toward the door, I continued waving my hand around behind us to catch more furniture on fire. Back out in the hall, I made a quick sweep along the wooden doorframe, its old wood instantly responding with several creaks. Instead of returning to the larger area, he led me to the right.

The door on the opposite wall had been smashed down, the vinegar odor temporarily overtaking the smell of burning wood from the dozens of wine casks on racks inside. Passing the rubble, at the back of the room, I got a brief glimpse of a hole in the floor where the undead man had emerged from.

This end of the hall turned left, ending with the set of stairs that lead up straight into the kitchen, but when the necromancer began heading toward the dining hall, I motioned to the back door.

Outside, Tharrin and the boy were seated on a low cobblestone wall near the rusty gate.

“Thank the gods!” Tharrin said, rushing over to assist. “Is it dead?”

The necromancer looked back toward the house. “I didn’t get to make sure, but if he doesn’t burn to death, let’s hope the ceiling caves in on him. That should be an adequate tomb...for now.”

I didn’t like how he ended that, but the hunched over boy had also gotten up to approach us.

“Don’t think you’re free yet, boy,” the necromancer said. “Something went wrong down there, so now I guess I’ll have to take you to visit some of the higher ranking members of my — ”

“No!” the boy said. “You kidnapped me, you’ve tortured me, and now you’re desecrating my family’s manor! I stopped being a kid the day you took me down there to die!”

Before I realized what was happening, the boy had thrust a hand forward, and backing away, the ceremonial dagger had been embedded deep into the necromancer’s side.

The boy twisted to us as he jabbed a finger back at the necromancer. “He wasn’t trying to save me! He was using my mother’s experiments to further his own purposes!”

I stared incredulously at the necromancer as he collapsed against a stone wall before dropping to his knees, his veins already becoming dark tendrils, but looking up at us, there was no denial in his eyes.

“I might’ve missed this bit,” Tharrin said, “but how did he manage to kidnap you in the first place?”

“He came to our manor to learn more about it after hearing about the revolt rumors, and finding the secret room, he had studied my mother’s notes for weeks. After learning of me surviving, he confronted me at the academy to tell me about it. Of course I didn’t remember much being so young, so his offer to return home with him intrigued me, but as soon as we arrived he drugged and locked me up!”

“But are you cursed?” I asked. “Death knights are no laughing matter, and this one — your father — made it clear he was bound to protect you. He may have even been the one to kill your mother.”

“He never explained what he was actually doing, but none of it ever made me feel better! He might be right that I should be examined by someone — ” He turned back to the dying necromancer, now curled up on his side. ” — but maybe it can be done by someone at the academy, not other necromancers who would try taking advantage of me!”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Thank you for rescuing me. Upon returning to the academy, I’ll see you are both amply rewarded.”

“And, uh, what about your family manor?” Tharrin asked, looking guilty as he went to a stump to heave a bulging cloth sack from it. “My apologies, but these belong to you.”

The boy only smiled. “Keep it as part of your reward as well. Now that I know more of my past, I’ll discuss it with my parents — I guess they’re my adoptive parents — then see what I can do about possibly reclaiming and restoring this place.”

“Thank you, boy — I mean, my lord,” he said; the boy smirked as Tharrin lugged his haul to the gate.

The boy looked back down at the necromancer, who could only stare back up weakly. “Should we take the dagger to be examined too?”

“That may be a good idea. It’s likely been used in countless dark rituals, so maybe a cleric or paladin could destroy it to prevent it from being used anymore.”

I made to grab for it, but the boy was faster.

“Let’s get out of here!” Tharrin called from outside the wall. “This place is scaring me to death!”

Finding a thick branch for a crutch, the boy and I helped each other limp after the thief.