A torrent of fire flew from the man’s hands onto Jerry’s body. The scalding heat made him dash backward in fear. At the same time, two more torrents jumped at the skeletons but failed to even char their bones. They both reacted instantaneously.

  With an angry bellow, Boboar threw himself at the man, who jumped to the side with surprising agility. Unable to stop, the double-boar crashed against a tree, shaking the entire trunk and roots underneath.

  Foxy also jumped at the wizard. While she wasn’t nearly as strong as Boboar, she was far nimbler. She fell on him swiftly, with claws and jaws ready to tear flesh from bone, and he received a deep gash on his cheek as he slapped her away.

  Both animals got ready to pounce again, and the wizard’s hands shone red like embers.

  “Wait!” shouted Jerry, patting the final flames off his tunic. He wasn’t injured. Boboar and Foxy had stopped the wizard’s spell before the heat mounted. “Just wait! This is a misunderstanding!”

  The two skeletons froze, absolutely loyal. The wizard also halted.

  “Misunderstanding? There is nothing to misunderstand here. What did you do to her, you foul being?” he shouted, blood flowing from the nasty wound on his cheek.

  “I saved her!” Jerry cried out, keeping his distance. “These men were trying to harm her. I saved her. Stay your hand!”

  The wizard frowned, glancing at the three corpses, and then at the girl who lay face-down on the ground—Boboar had dropped her to attack.

  “How do I know you’re not lying?” he asked cautiously, not lowering his hands. “Holly’s unconscious.”

  “Not much I can do about that, unless you’re really, really in a rush.”

  The wizard’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a necromancer,” he stated.

  “I am.”

  “And you dare show yourself in these woods? Do not bring your blight upon my land!”

  “Hey now, I’m not bringing any blight. I just showered three days ago, and I’ll have you know I take good care of myself despite living in the forest.” He raised his chin, then sighed. “I’m just a wanderer looking for a home. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask; can I stay in your village?”

  He could have been more diplomatic about it, but Jerry had seen such prejudice before. The faster the other shoe dropped, the better.

  “Hah!” The wizard laughed, a coarse, bitter sound. “A freak like you? Not in a thousand years. You will come to the village, but you’ll be my prisoner until Holly wakes up to tell us the truth. Understand?”

  Jerry shrugged. This man seemed a bit disagreeable, but that was okay; he would just do as he was told and leave after his innocence was verified.

  And then, I’m off to find shelter for the winter. After that, we’ll see.

  “Sure. I’m Jerry, by the way. If I’m innocent, are you sure I can’t stay in your village? I’m actually a pretty good guy, and also a shoemaker.”

  “Only over my dead body.” The wizard snorted derisively.

  Your dead body wouldn’t mind, Jerry thought, but chose not to speak.

  “Follow me, then,” spoke the wizard, slinging the unconscious girl over his shoulder, “and have your…minions…stay a hundred paces behind. I don’t want them anywhere near me.”

  “They are called Boboar and Foxy,” Jerry helpfully pointed out, “but alright. Go on ahead. What’s your name, by the way?”

  The man snorted and walked away. Jerry followed with a sigh. If the entire village was as rude as this guy, it was going to be a long day.

  ***

  It was a mountain village through and through. Jerry saw a couple dozen cobblestone and wood houses arrayed in loose circles around a wide, empty space. The entire settlement was built on rocky ground at a mostly flat part of the mountainside, and it was as small as could be. The only notable feature was a shallow stream a few hundred paces to the side.

  Jerry didn’t particularly care. A home was a home, and a village was a village. No— On second thought, size mattered; smaller was better. More people would mean more troublemakers, as necromancers were traditionally disliked.

  Boboar and Foxy waited outside the village. As Jerry and the wizard approached, the sun was setting, and smoke was already rising from several stone chimneys. The smell of dead animals hung faintly in the air, along with a vague hint of the tangy smell of drying skin. Unlike most, these people had the prudence to place the tannery outside the village.

  Jerry also noticed several pens, each housing a few tens of livestock—sheep and goats, mostly, with the occasional cow munching on tufts of grass. There were few people out and about, all gawking in Jerry and the wizard’s direction.

  As they walked into the village square, the wizard shouted, “Mayor Ashman! Please, come to the square. We need your judgment!”

  Several windows opened, and many heads peeked through. Jerry’s appearance as an unknown, unkempt man raised many brows.

  Not the best first impression, probably, he thought but didn’t pay them any particular mind. They weren’t going to let him stay anyway.

  Many eyes were also drawn to the new wound on the wizard’s cheek, courtesy of Foxy. He’d put some herbs over it to stop the bleeding, leaving him with a leaf-and-blood-smeared face, and many gasps were heard as people noticed. He was clearly pissed about that. If he disliked necromancers before, he now hated Jerry with a passion.

  Under everyone’s gazes, the wizard suddenly seemed to remember something. He quickly retrieved a red feather from his breast pocket and stuck it in a special hole in his robes, near the shoulder. The feather stood proudly, as if it had always been there.

  “Cheater,” Jerry mumbled under his breath.

  In the Three Kingdoms, all wizards were obligated by law to carry a colored feather signifying their status and the magic school they belonged to. They had to wear it in all public appearances and in a clearly visible spot. Jerry didn’t know why, but he assumed they simply wanted to avoid unnecessary conflict, or maybe distinguish themselves from the common riffraff of the world. Wizards were known for their arrogance.

  Of course, necromancers weren’t officially recognized as wizards, not since the Red Week, so they had no obligation to wear fancy feathers.

  Had this guy worn his feather in the forest, as he was supposed to, Jerry might have been more on guard…but, what’s done is done.

  A few people exited their houses and headed for the empty space in the center of the village. The wizard had called it a square, but that was a very generous title, as was calling the leader of such a small place mayor.

  “HOLLY!” a mighty shout came from the side as a large man rushed at them.

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  He was bulky and dark-skinned —unlike everyone else— wearing tanned leather hides as well as a set of leather boots that looked well-made but had clearly seen their fair share of winters. Muscles bulged out of his chest and arms. His head was covered in rich dark hair, while a short but bushy beard adorned his face, making his overall visage resemble the king of all lumberjacks.

  That impression was immediately shattered by the bow and quiver hanging from his back, as well as the long knife strapped to his waist.

  The large man reached the wizard in only a few steps, plucking Holly off with more force than strictly necessary. The wizard stepped back. After making sure she breathed properly and wasn’t bleeding, his hard eyes stared over.

  “Murdock,” he said. “What happened?”

  “Derek.” The wizard snorted, pointing back at Jerry. “Ask him.”

  Jerry waved. “Hello. I’m Jerry.”

  “What did you do to my daughter, stranger?”

  “She was surrounded by three bandits. I saved her.”

  Derek turned to the wizard. “Is that true, Murdock? You didn’t bring him in as a savior.”

  “He’s a necromancer,” the wizard spat out, drawing a wave of whispers from the villagers. Even Derek flinched. “I found him surrounded by corpses and undead, with Holly’s body in his grasp. He claims he saved her, as if we would believe him. He’s a necromancer. You all know what that means. I suggest we eliminate him, right here and now.”

  “Hmm.” Derek narrowed his eyes. “Were those corpses of bandits?”

  “Yes,” Murdock admitted, “but so what? Even if he’s telling the truth, he’s a necromancer here to kill us all. Who’s to say he wouldn’t kidnap Holly and do unspeakable things after saving her? I was just lucky to catch him in the act and lure him all the way here.”

  Jerry blinked. He looked at the villagers surrounding him; they seemed scared, confused, and potentially aggressive.

  “This is a misunderstanding,” he said.

  “Your birth was a misunderstanding,” retorted Murdock.

  Jerry frowned and crossed his arms. “Okay, that was witty but not very nice.”

  “Are you asking me to kill my daughter’s savior?” Derek frowned, his deep voice demanding the attention of the crowd.

  “Think, Derek,” said Murdock, tapping his forehead. “Necromancers are evil incarnate. I lured him all the way here. If we let him escape, he might kill hundreds of people, including all of us!”

  “Evil people do not save daughters.” Derek crossed his arms, turning to Jerry. “Are you really a necromancer?”

  “I am.” Jerry nodded. “In my defense, I’m also a pretty good guy.”

  Derek chuckled before turning back to the wizard. When he spoke, his words were final.

  “He saved my daughter. I am not killing him.”

  “But he—”

  “Wait!” a voice came from the side as a plump man desperately pushed his way through the crowd. He stopped there, panting, with his hands on his knees. “Wait, just wait! You can’t start the hearing without me!”

  “Mayor.” The two men nodded slightly.

  “Just…give me a moment,” the mayor got out between heavy breaths. His head was bald and his clothing rich, with red, fluffy leather draped over his shoulders. Kind lines marred his face, while his eyes were bright and soft. He seemed like a pleasant next-door man, certainly not a mayor or any sort of authority figure.

  So, this is the village mayor, Jerry mused. He probably stopped to get dressed before coming. Then again, a village cannot have a mayor. If he wants to keep the title, maybe he has to dress up.

  “Mayor!” Murdock exclaimed, turning around as if he’d found salvation. He pointed at Jerry. “He’s a necromancer! We must kill him.”

  “A necromancer!?” The mayor’s mouth turned into an oval.

  “He saved my daughter.” Derek retorted, still holding Holly’s unconscious body. “He’s a benefactor.”

  “But he’s a necromancer!” Murdock hissed out.

  “I don’t give a shit!”

  The two men glared at each other; Murdock’s expression displayed a clear disdain for the larger man, while Derek seemed enraged by the wizard’s arrogance. His eyes were stony, his mouth clenched, and his entire being oozed straightforward stubbornness. This man clearly had the diplomatic grace of a particularly hot-blooded bull.

  Murdock finally looked away. He snorted as he turned to Jerry. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you on the spot, heathen. You should be ashamed. Magic is a heavy gift, and necromancers clearly buckle under its weight.”

  “Leave him alone,” growled Derek, turning only his eyes. “I’m sick of your bullshit. This man saved Holly.”

  “And then she mysteriously fell unconscious before this stranger tried to drag her away. For the love of Manna, Derek, use that empty rattle ball you have for a head. Do you really think a necromancer would help others? We live in fear because of them !”

  Murdock glared at Jerry, and embers flickered in his hands again. Clearly, he was running out of patience. Derek narrowed his eyes.

  “If you harm him, I will harm you.”

  Murdock’s embers flickered out. “You’re just a mundane. How dare you threaten me?”

  “Mundane, you say. That’s exactly the kind of shit that makes me wanna bash your head in, you wizard supremacist cunt.”

  They glared at each other again.

  Jerry already liked Derek. He seemed honest and simple, like Jerry himself. Murdock, on the other hand, was arrogant and close-minded. An unpleasant man, despite his talents.

  “By Manna! Silence, both of you,” ordered the mayor, trying to stop any escalation. Both men turned to glare at him. He shrunk back.

  “I mean,” he continued a bit more softly, “let’s think about it first. We shouldn’t kill people lightly, right?”

  “What?” The wizard’s eyes widened in anger. “He’s a necromancer! His kind brought us the Curse, the Damn Wall, the Red Week!”

  “So what? Necromancy is not illegal,” replied Derek.

  “It’s detestable.”

  “But not illegal .”

  “Let’s just let the man speak,” the mayor said, and Jerry’s heart fluttered. Finally, someone wasn’t ignoring him!

  “Yes?” he asked politely.

  “Tell us about yourself, Mr.…” His voice trailed. Derek looked on amusedly, while Murdock seemed to be stewing in his robes.

  “Jerry.”

  “My name is Ashman. In the name of Manna, could you please tell us…everything, basically. Who are you?”

  Jerry smiled.

  “I’m Jerry,” he began. “A friendly, wandering necromancer. I spent the last few months in the forest, but now I’m searching for a home. I’m also a shoemaker, if your village happens to lack one, and I really am a good guy. The books are lying about necromancers, trust me. I would know.”

  Murdock spat on the ground. “Good necromancers and flying whales. He’s full of lies.”

  Thankfully, the mayor ignored him. “Shoemaker?” He raised a brow, still sweating from Murdock’s and Derek’s combined pressure. “I didn’t know necromancers could have such mundane professions.”

  “Sure we can. I wasn’t always a necromancer. By the way, if you decide not to fight me, can I stay here? You know, since I saved that girl.”

  The crowd burst into indignant whispers.

  For the second time in a day, Jerry had just thrown the question out there. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but months of solitude had made Jerry forget how tiresome human interactions could be. He was pretty sure they would refuse him anyway, so he just wanted to get it over with and leave. This surprise court against him was slightly insulting, and besides, he wasn’t going to die. Derek, his new friend, seemed pretty reliable.

  Meanwhile, Murdock was about to explode. “Absolutely not!” he declared.

  “Stay here?” The mayor gasped, his eyes threatening to bulge out. Jerry thought that maybe he shouldn’t have spoken so abruptly. If the mayor had a heart attack, wouldn’t Murdock become even more annoying?

  Mayor Ashman didn’t know what to think. This unkempt, goofy man who seemed as though he hadn’t seen civilization in months was a mighty necromancer? A blight to the land? And he wanted to stay here?

  Oh, no, Melissa is going to kill me. He sweated even harder. But Mother Manna preaches mercy. What should I do?

  “Ashman.” Derek raised a hand, and his deep voice stopped the crowd’s whispers. “It is late, and we are all tired. How about this; my house will be his prison for the night. We can discuss this again in the morning.”

  “You plan to take this murderer into your house?” Murdock hissed, and Derek glared at him.

  “You shut your ugly mouth. All you can do is talk. When my daughter was attacked by the bandits, where were you? You go on and on about your magic, but at the end of the day, you’re just as useless as the rest of us. He saved her; he is my benefactor. Even if I die this night, I will not regret it.”

  The wizard’s eyes widened in anger. He turned red and began shaking in his pointy shoes. Derek met Murdock’s stare with calm resolution.

  “Make no mistake, Murdock,” he said. “This man saved you too. My daughter is all I have left, and you are responsible for protecting the village. That includes her. If your negligence had caused her harm, you would not live to see another dawn.”

  The wizard’s eyes widened to the extreme. He seemed ready to lash out.

  “I believe this is a fine idea,” the mayor spoke quickly. “Under the eyes of Mother Manna, this man has shown no bad intentions toward us, and necromancers are not outlaws to begin with. If Derek is willing to brave the risk, so be it. We can meet again at dawn, not an hour later.”

  Murdock was almost as red as his robes. He turned around, stomping away.

  “Suit yourselves,” were his parting words. “Perhaps tomorrow our village will have one less idiot.”

  Derek snorted loudly but did not reply.

  “Disperse, everyone.” The mayor waved his hands in the air, and the crowd dissipated slowly, sneaking glancing back Jerry’s way. He smiled whenever he met someone’s eye, but nobody smiled back.

  “I expect to see you tomorrow.” Mayor Ashman gave a pointed look at the necromancer. “Murdock can be a strict man, but he’s not bad. I appreciate your actions in saving Holly. Don’t make me regret this decision.”

  “Don’t worry, friend.” Jerry gave him his best smile. “I told you. I’m a good guy.”

  Ashman couldn’t help smiling. “I certainly hope so,” he replied, walking away. “Goodbye, Jerry. May the Wall hold.”

  “May it hold forever.”

  A heavy hand landed on Jerry’s shoulder. Turning around, Derek was there, smiling widely. “That wasn’t a warm welcome, but I’ll show you my best hospitality. Tonight, my house is your house.”