2. Death is boring: contract and rebirth

“Son, if you want me to help you, you will first have to promise you’ll take care of him.”

The Lord Necromancer’s emerald eyes were avoiding the corpse. He had always had a hard time staring at unmoving dead beings. That was one of the reasons he was a necromancer. He despised Death. Death was boring.

“I understand, Dad. I’ll take care of him the best I can.”

His eyes observed his son. Ray was wearing the same orange baseball cap as usual, the one his friend had bought him for his fourteenth birthday. His black hair was a mess, his eyes were red from crying, his skin was almost as pale as an undead’s. Was he eating and sleeping correctly? In a way, this incident had made the Lord Necromancer happy: he finally had an excuse to talk to his son. Ray had requested his help. It was the first time.

He concealed his satisfied smile behind a poker face and continued:

“He will be bound to you by our arts. Should this bond be broken, he will die, never able to come back. Do you understand that?”

“I do!”

“It’s a path that needs a lot of knowledge, talent, and willpower. You can’t go back once you make your choice, for you will forever be cursed once you stray into the darkness. The Death Hunters won’t ever forgive your sin.”

“I understand all of that, I’m your son, I know what a necro-bond implies, and I know you never cared about those ‘sins’. Just help me revive him before his soul vanishes! I beg of you, Dad! He’s…” He fell to his knees, sobbing. “He’s my dearest friend! Please save him!”

“…” He was determined. That was all that mattered. “I’ll help, naturally. How can I let my beloved son down? After so many years of disparagements, you chose my path. I’m proud and relieved. The first bond is the hardest but also the most important. I hope you will soon become a great necromancer—”

“Spare me your nonsense and save him, dammit!”

“All right, all right, son… don’t be impatient.”

He leaned over the young dead, a blond-haired fine-looking seventeen-year-old high schooler. His son’s best friend. Was he that amazing for Ray to be hanging out with him instead of accepting his father’s love?

“Ah…” he sighed. “I’m jealous of your friend. He can be with you but I can’t…”

“Act your age, Dad…” Ray muttered under his breath.

The Lord Necromancer smirked and placed his hands, one on the corpse’s chest, the other one on its forehead. That spell of Soul and Flesh Resurrection was of his own invention. Very few necromancers in history had been able to actually revive someone along with their inner soul and past memories. That required a lot of energy, genius, and patience, but he would have even given up an arm or two for his son’s sake. That was what dads did.

“Well then, I’ll get started.”