|Everything goes by in a blur. Headmaster Ambrose says that Dworgyn still might have a chance and so I sit in the waiting room for hours. Eventually he tells me that he will not know anything until morning; to get some rest. I nod and teleport out of the hospital waiting room. I open my spiral door onto my Royal Estate, and smile just a little bit.
“Ah, home sweet home.” I whisper into the darkness. It feels good to finally be home. It has been so long since I have been in Marleybone. I peer over the edge of my island to the bustling city below. I take a deep breath of the city air and walk inside. It is dark and musty after months of being unused. I wave my hand and the lights flash on, the cobwebs clean themselves, and Midnight, my blue ghost, appears next to me. He looks toward me and cheerfully says,
“Welcome home Master Shade.”
“It’s good to be back.” I answer.
“I expect your trip was pleasant?” He asks, taking my bags.
“Oh, as good as a diplomatic trip to Grizzleheim can be. Some of those creatures are quite hospitable, while others I’m afraid are downright awful. But I guess you could consider my journey a successful one.” I say.
He looks at me with sudden interest and asks,
” I suppose you got them to sign the treaty?” I sigh and nod.
“Mostly, however I am afraid I did not get it signed by a few… tribes I guess you could call them. Also the most curious thing happened to me on my way to report to Ambrose.” I tell Morsivus the whole story trying to make it sound far less odd than it really is. He looks at me with concern on his, well, whatever you might call his face.
“Dear me, that sounds awful. You must sit down. However you seem to be holding up well Master Shade.” I look down and say,
“One of the blessings of being a Necromancer if you could call it that. The power to have no emotion. I mean, of course I cried at first, I was in shock. But this is all too natural. Too ordinary.”
“You mean you are not sad anymore?”
I rise from my chair and walk up to my bedchamber. When I am halfway up the stairs I look down at him and say,
“Of course I am sad. But there is nothing to be done about it. He means much to me, but nevertheless he is just another figure in the never-ending cycle of life and death.” With this I climb the rest of the stairs to my bedchamber. I close and lock the door before sitting on my bed. I sigh, look around the room, and lay down. I shut my bloodshot eyes and dream that tomorrow is better.
I nervously pace the halls of the hospital, any minute now I should hear the news. Headmaster Ambrose has his best Life Wizards work on Dworgyn, but to no avail. He finally emerges from Dworgyn’s hospital room.
“Matthew,” he says,”I am afraid I have very grim news. He simply couldn’t take the blows inflicted upon him. I am very sorry.” I cast a sideways glance at him, and see actual sadness in his eyes, but I am too withdrawn at the moment to care about others.
I rise without a word and teleport back to my house. I slowly walk around my island and sit down on a bench in the greenhouse. I sit there and think, about Dworgyn, about Malistaire, about everything. After a while I make up my mind. I rise and walk across the pathway to my bedroom balcony. I enter, walk to my dresser, and…Poof! A sleek, black suitcase appears on my bed. I open my dresser drawer and my clothes neatly pack themselves into my suitcase. I slowly walk through the house, picking my favorite things to bring with me. I pick a few of my favorite books, The Art of Death, Modern-day Necromancy, and my absolute favorite, The Forgotten Art of Despair. I walk into my study and turn towards the southernmost wall. I pull out a key and stick it at the hard stone wall. My key slices through it like butter and a door opens up around it. I walk through a long, dark corridor that winds deeper, and deeper into the ground. I enter a large cavernous room that is pitch black. Immediately when I enter, torches along the walls light up with black fire, shedding light on the room. I look around and smile, for a Necromancer never feels better than when they are in their Death Shrine. As I pass my Death Altar, I give it a slight nod. One can never be too respectful when dealing with Death magic. I walk again to the southernmost wall and tap it with my key. It opens up to reveal a small space. In the middle of it sits an obsidian chest. So dark it shines, its black spikes glistening in the torch light. I walk over to it snap my fingers and a key of pure darkness materializes in my palm. I stick it into the keyhole and turn it, a loud clunk sounds and the chest slowly opens. At the bottom of the chest in the middle sits a small pocketbook. I pick it up and my mind is filled with all sorts of knowledge of the Death arts. I hold in my hand The Atlas of Forgotten Souls. You may wonder how I came to acquire such a powerful artifact, but that is another story. It has information about everything you could possibly want to know about Death magic. I slip it in my pocket and leave the dungeon. I walk to the spiral door and set down my suitcase. Midnight appears and gives me a curious look.
“Master, what are you doing?” He asks. I turn toward him and answer,
“I don’t know I just need to think.”
“If you are leaving, then I am coming with you.” He says, a catch in his voice daring me to tell him otherwise. I nod and glance down at my watch. “A minute to midnight,” I think, “how fitting.” I open my spiral door with no clear world in mind. I pick up my suitcase and glance at Midnight. He gulps, obviously nervous at the idea. “Poor little guy,” I think, “he must be scared silly. It is brave of him to accompany me. Very, very brave. Or,” I think with a shudder, “Very, very foolish.” Midnight looks at me, hesitates, and then regains his confidence.
“Master, where are we going?” I breathe in and look at him with an amused smile on my face.
“Anywhere and everywhere.” I say, as I step through the Spiral Door.
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