Chapter 8

After the apprentices fled I contemplated the runeic markings I had seen. Partly because I was worried about damaging them in some way that they would do something foul, like explode. Partly because it was a way for me to learn and maybe find an area I could damage that would assist me to escape.

Try as I might though I could not exactly recall every portion of the script. My memory and understanding had gotten better when compared to my human brain, but it still wasn’t perfect. I snorted, “Of course it’s not. I only have an Intelligence of 10! Maybe it is time for me to use those stat points…”

I thought about it, but ultimately decided not to yet. I still did not know exactly what each stat did, so I wasn’t sure which way would be best to allocate my points. Also if the master necromancer could see my stats then it would be best to keep them low until I was ready to make my escape. So I waited, watched, and learned.

Andrea

Andrea was on her hands and knees cleaning the troughs they used for their daily business. Her black wavy hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail to keep it out of the foul muck. She had been demucking the cave ever since the day when she had been instructed to practice her magic control and send mana to the stupid dungeon core.

She had done what she had been told. It took her nearly 3 hours and some change, but she had finally transferred the required mana. Near the end something had happened to the core. It had grown brighter and heat had washed from it, but it was just a brief instant. So she hadn’t thought too much about it. Then when it created the skeleton it was wrong. The stupid thing was short and looked odd! Its head was slightly more oval than the others. Its arms and legs were also slightly longer with shorter fingers that had an extra joint on each digit. Andrea ran to get the master immediately.

Upon seeing the skeleton the master spoke to the core in her native language. A language none of the apprentices understood. Then she had gave Andrea the task of demucking the troughs. Andrea could have sworn she saw a smile on the master’s face when she saw the new skeleton, so she did not understand why she was in trouble. But, if you wanted to live you did not speak to the master without being told too, so she dare not ask.

Andrea stopped cleaning for a moment and scratched at the copper collar around her neck. Her skin underneath it had long since became red and sore. Now though the blisters were beginning to fester and she often woke with pus and dried blood on her chest. She knew the master did not care. If she died of some kind of infection the master would just raise her as a zombie. Or perhaps if she could stay alive long enough to learn more magic, maybe a vampire or lich! Andrea shook her head clearing it of her dreams as dark as they were. She focused back on the task at hand, but her thoughts drifted away from the shitty task soon enough.

Her thought traveled back to what had gotten her into this dark pit of death to begin with. It was the anniversary of her birth. Her village was small and poor but they had planned a small celebration feast. The hunters had returned with wild Nurrak. The beasts had a soft tan furry body. Stood 23cm tall, on six spindly legs. Their deer like head were topped with the spring’s growth of horn. By the late fall those horns would be nearly a meter in length, showing the young bucks fertility to any prospective mates.

“Are you crying over their deaths again dear sister? A deep voice called from behind her. Andrea did not need to turn to know it was her older brother Tomas.

She quickly wiped at her wet cheeks, “No>”

Two strong arms wrapped around her and picked her up making her squeal and playfully fight to get loose. After a few minutes of the rough housing Tomas put the younger girl down.

“Come now sister. Your 14 cycles old now. Your celebration into womanhood is tonight and you choose your path in life tomorrow. You can’t be crying over the beasts that will be your celebration dinner!”

Andrea playfully hit her brother’s arm. Like her he had pale skin, dark hair, and slate grey eyes. Unlike her he had a muscular frame and was nearly 2 meters tall. Andrea was skinny, almost too skinny. The other girls had started to develop womanly curves, but not Andrea. Her chest was nearly as flat as it was when she was 8. Worse yet her hips were not widening to show she could be a fertile mother.

Scraping up a particularly runny pile of muck Andrea snorted. Back then she had been so sad about her lack of curves, but now it was a saving grace. The other apprentices did not pay her a second glance. While those same girls whom Andrea had envied got more attention than they wanted. Shuddering she briefly felt sorry for those girls whom were weak and unable to protect themselves… She did not want to think about it and let her thoughts travel back again.

“Do you know what you want to do, yet?” Her brother asked her as they walked through the dirt pad that served as her village’s central through fare.

She shook her head with a wide smile, “I want to try out for Trewise’s apprentice!”

Tomas snorted, “You? A spellcaster? Come now sister be serious!”

Andrea’s smile vanished and in a sulky gloom she said, “I am serious.”

Thomas glanced at his pouting sister, “Master Trewise hasn’t chosen a new apprentice in nearly 5 years and you think you can get him to choose you? I think the old man is bonkers. I’m nearly 20 cycles and I’ve never seen the old man do any kind of magic.”

Andrea thrust her chin upward, “The village elders say he can, so I believe them! Even if he can’t I’ll apply for the Royal College”

Her brother snorted and shook his head. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the Royal College would not even consider a lesser noble much less a village bumpkin. If Trewise had not retired to their small village before he was born, then she would never have the chance to learn magic at all. If she could even now.

That night the celebration was held in the village square. The entire village had come out. Some 200 people milled around, eating fresh roasted Nurrak, a variety of local grown roasted vegetables and the ale was flowing. Villagers sat at long tables with family and friends enjoying the cool night. Old Bart was playing a lively tune on his Banjo. His sons beat out a rhythm on various pots, pans and cleaning utensils. All of which made a lively folk music that many were dancing too.

When the song came to a conclusion Elder Loveheart moved up upon the small central stage. See the elder’s bent back and grew hair upon the stage the town grew silent. In a raspy voice that spoke of strength forged in years the elder spoke, “We celebrate tonight the coming of age of our very own Andrea Blumquest.” The crowd cheered.

“Come up here young lady.”

Andrea looked around nervously as she stepped up next to the elder.

“Now Andrea, this night marks your turning from child to a woman, with a woman’s duties. Your paths are many and as our tradition states the choices is yours. Do you know what you want to be as you take your first steps forward into adulthood?”

Andrea gulped and glanced among the crowd. Her three brothers and two sisters were scattered around the crowd but they each met her eyes and smiled. Her parents had died two cycles ago during the bad winter. Her eldest brother was taking care of the family now.

She nodded nervously, “I do.”

The elder smiled not expecting any other answer, than the traditional ones.

“Good, the village has need of famers, hunters, a baker and even a tailor. What skills will you learn?”

The tradition stated that the elder should name the professions the community most needed, but all knew there was no requirement for anyone to choose them.

Andrea took a dep breath before saying, “I want to become a spellcaster.”

The mummer of low conversations that always occurred in any large group died instantly as everyone hear the strange request.

Elder Loveheart smiled being aware already of Andrea’s choice. “Very well let us see if Master Trewise needs an apprentice. Master Trewise will you please come up to the stage?”

An ancient looking man poked a bald head covered with liver spots out of a tiny house at the edge of the square, “Huh? What’s that? Someone call?”

Elder Loveheart’s smiled flickered then was instantly back, “Yes, Master Trewise this young lady would like to become your apprentice. Would you please come to the stage and inform her of your decision?”

The old man toddled out of the house bent almost at a right angle. An old gnarly cane was all that kept him from falling over. Fully exiting the house he squinted in the direction of the stage, ‘Huh what’s that? These old ears of mine don’t hear so well anymore? Some lady wants a piece?”

The younger and less mature in the crowd snickered, but the old man did not seem to catch the double meaning. Elder Loveheart sighed and repeated her statement.

“Oh! No need! No need for me to come all that way!” The old man squinted at the stage, “Young lady if you want to be a magic user then show me why you think you can be one.”

Andrea stood as stiff as a board. It was time. For three years now she had spent every chance she could talking to travelers about magic. A year ago a caravan had a hedge wizard with them. The man was all too happy to talk shop with her. After using her life savings buying the man ale he had finally relented and showed her a simple spell.

Andrea had spent every free moment alone in the last year practicing it, and now it was time to show it off. Scrunching her face up in concentration she began her spell.

Andrea’s brow broke out in sweat and her stomach clenched as she forced her limited mana to do what she wanted with words and gestures. With a final syllable that sounded almost like a low throaty growl a 2cm sphere of light appeared above the girl’s dark mane of hair. The crowd froze in amazement. For most this was the first time they had seen any kind of magic at all; even in spite of having a so called retired wizard in the village.

Andrea ignored them all her eyes never leaving Master Trewise’s face. The old man’s perpetually dull eyes cleared instantly and a spark flickered in them. Unfortunately it was not the old master who spoke first. At the back of the village a lone voice sounded. All eyes turned looking in to the shadows as a black robed figure stepped out.

A purring foreigner woman’s voice slid across the square like a caress of death, “Very good girl. It seems like my trip here will get me more than just components.”

No sooner than she said that than other black robed figures stepped out all around the central square as if emerging from the very darkness itself. Behind them came the dead. A bloodcurdling scream cut through the night’s air.