The Hermit pt.2

“Necromancy attracts those with darkness already in their souls…”

The light of his lantern provides just enough light to outline the seated figure obfuscated within the darkness. The voice echoed hauntingly through the natural cold stone edifice, hollow and weary. Shivers skittered down the boys spine, dispersing across his flesh into goosebumps.

“Necromancy,” the voice continued, “is the study of the metaphysical forces of death, entropy and their physical and spiritual implications. When described so academically it is difficult to comprehend the ubiquitous revulsion that the school of magic receives wherever civilisation flourishes.””

He felt, rather than saw, the shadows growing, lengthening and thickening around him. Vague awareness of the encroaching silence suffocating out natural life as the voice spoke. Still he remained and listened.

“Sorcery, witchcraft, whatever name you choose to know it by, power has a nature.”

He feared the man who’s voice he’d sought in the cave. He had heard, and ignored, all the rumours the townsfolk whispered of the hermit who had taken up residence on the hill. Even the schoolmaster had warned of the hermit, dressed up with the pretence of the dangers of speaking to strangers.

Travellers were a bad omen, especially ones this far from major civilisation centres, let alone ones so close to the plague-lands. He knew that what he was doing was dangerous, but he had no choice.

“There is no intrinsic truth to a person. Ones soul is a reflection of ones experiences, actions and circumstances.”

The voice falters almost imperceptibly, but continues it’s fatalistic tone.

“A person’s soul is only distinct from another’s by the most fragile, amorphous margin, with every action, thought and perception altering that nature”

“Necromancy is considered ‘Dark Magic’, because the soul of necromancy and the soul of darkness overlap enough that to the perceptions of the majority they seem indistinguishable.”

The boy’s fear is almost lost to his excitement, this was going exactly as he had dreamed. Taking a deep breath to stop the shaking in his throat and knees,

“But are they?”

The man in the darkness paused for a beat, “They are not.”

“Can you teach me?”

Author: Zairron

I'm writing to build a habit, practice, and be creative.

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