And at last, there was a stack of letters impatiently waiting on Ben's table, it had been waiting for at least two days and was getting rather bored.
Ben yawned and stretched his arms. He was alone in the tavern's room they rented. Ola found out about the fighter's arena in the city and spent all her time there. Seth usually just disappeared into the city for most of the day and returned in the evening. They were staying here for a few days, mostly to relax and decide what they will do next. Ola insisted she deserves a recovery time after having to save them. The fact that she spent most of her time in the arena fighting somewhat undermined her arguments, though.
Ben had spent the days exploring the city. Yesterday, he'd wandered into the local herbalist's shop and, after seeing the nonsensical alphabetical order the inventory was in, he reorganized it by potency. As it turned out, the herbalist did not appreciate this particular help, especially considering Ben's idea of potency went in the reverse order of the herbalist's. Necromancy is, after all, less concerned with healing importance than your average herbalist.
Today's misadventure proved a bit more consequential. Ben had merely been trying to help an elderly woman with her groceries when he noticed her arthritis. Ben, a friendly necromancer he considered himself, decided this was an ideal time to share his talents. He pulled out a small vial of glowing green liquid and, with a smile, began explaining the procedure.
Sadly, the woman wasn't very understanding and her screams had attracted the city guards. After a lot of shouting and even some screaming from the guards, Ben finally understood the street wasn't the right place for the procedure and was forced to promise he wouldn't leave the tavern for the rest of the day. It was a wise choice considering the alternative was a city jail.
"I am just trying to help," Ben muttered to the empty room, idly animating a small mouse skeleton he kept in his pocket. "Was trying to save her trouble, I am sure she would have been happy if she understood..."
The mouse skeleton chittered, which Ben took as an agreement.
Ben didn't mind, his friends spent their time apart. In fact, he enjoyed his alone time. He used to be alone all the time when he lived with his parents in the castle. Back then, he thought, he wanted a company, well, any un-undead company, so a living company. But now, now that he spends most of his time on the road, with his friends, he actually misses his alone time. He liked spending time with his friends, but sometimes being alone was just right.
Ben yawned and threw a few more logs into the fire, then returned to the table, back to the reason why he was sitting here. (Except the fact, he was actually grounded by the guards for the day after his last misadventure. In fact, if he wasn't been grounded, he probably wouldn't have gotten to the letters for another few days. He just was that sort of a person.)
Ben picked up the first letter. It was from his dad.
BEN! MY BOY!
GLORIOUS VICTORY AGAINST THE FROST GIANTS!
Forty-seven of them, though your mother claims it was only twelve. DETAILS!
Your mother received your letter about the 'village ghosts'. She pretended to be annoyed but I caught her re-reading it three times, when she thought no one was looking. She even smiled! DON'T TELL HER I TOLD YOU THIS or she'll turn my favorite drinking horn into something with too many eyes. Extra eyes are not good in mugs. Trust me.
You did well there son, we are proud.
The Skull Crushers Tribe has invited me to their annual bone-breaking festival. Your mother says this is 'terribly uncivilized', but I don't know what can be more civilized than an annual drinking competition… you know your mum though…
STAY STRONG! FIGHT WELL! Remember: armor is for the WEAK!
Your father,
WULF THE UNTAMED
(P.S. Your mother added 'the untamed' part. She thinks it's funny, I don't know why, and she won't tell me. Please write back if you understand. We love you Benny.)"
Ben looked up and caught himself smiling. His parents were still his parents. Ben rolled the latter and carefully hid it with his other precious possessions.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The rest of the letters weren't of much consequence. One was a strangely colorful paper, showing drawings of swords, shield, and armor, each with a price close by in a tiny letter, and then right next to it, in much bigger letters, more numbers with the unusual symbol of '%' and the word 'off'. Ben wasn't sure what they were for, but considering how much red ink they used, it was probably important. Ben threw it into the fire.
There was another letter that confused Ben even more than the first one. It was full of big words he didn't understand, sentences filled with unusual symbols like ';' or ':', sometimes even '-'. It seemed to be rather demanding, but Ben wasn't sure what exactly it was demanding; whatever it was, it required a lot of math, and Ben didn't consider himself particularly fond of that field. Ben threw it into the fire. Ben didn't look at it anymore, but if one were to look, he would likely become rather scared and warn Ben of the consequences of such action. The accidentally looking person would likely see the paper slowly consumed by fire, turning and curling under the heat. What would cause such an observer the scare wouldn't be fire damage, but the title of the letter. It said: 'Tax Report'.
But again, Ben didn't look, nor did he know what taxes were for. His attention was fully on the last letter. The most surprising one, to be sure. The envelope wasn't unusual, if maybe somewhat cleaner than most. There weren't any stains, no fingerprints, or wax. It was simply an envelope that kept its life together, probably had a good job, and didn't drink much.
What was surprising was the letter inside. It wasn't written by hand, or at least as far as Ben could tell, it wasn't written by hand. The letters were too clean, too strict—as if you spent a whole lot of time making each letter perfectly symmetrical. Ben hasn't seen anything like that before. He finished inspecting it and began reading:
Dear Ben,
I hope you have been well. The items you have helped us acquire were very helpful. I am grateful, we have discovered much from them and still hope to learn more.
But that is not the reason I am writing to you. I wish to invite you and if possible other humans you are acquainted with (preferably not necromancers) to our city. We hope we have discovered a way how we—monsters, as humans would say—could communicate with other humans like we can with you. Your letter vividly describing your ghost adventure gave us the hint, so we thank you for that.
I am sure you understand the implications of such discovery. There is no need for me to write it down, but I have to, I cannot help myself. It could indeed mean we may establish communication across species. Hopefully this would lead to ending the slaughter of my people.
If you accept (and I hope you will), please meet me at the same location we met for the first time. At Mid-Day, last day of the month.
I hope to see you soon.
Blurtius
A few hours later his friends arrived and they all gathered in the Ben's and Seth's room. The sun was long set but the fireplace lit up the room just enough for them to see each other.
Seth was pacing from one corner of the room to the other, while Ola still read through the goblin's letter. Finally, she put the letter down and looked up at her friends.
"Who is Blurtius?" she asked.
Ben was about to answer, but Seth's impatience ran faster. "A goblin, he said, still pacing around the room, biting his lip. "It's one of the goblins we met at Dratov's Helb. The one with glasses, if you remember… right Ben?"
Ben nodded and was about to say something when Ola sight, "Of course it is." She kicked her legs up, falling onto the bed. "Of course, it's goblin," she muttered to herself.
"Exactly," Seth grimaced. "And our necromancer probably wants to meet him. Ideally, leave tonight already…"
"Actually-" Ben tried, but Seth waved a hand, interrupting him again.
"I agree with you, Ben." Seth sat down on the other bed, leaning back. "If what Blurtius here writes is true… it could be really important, if we could communicate with- with them… This could save so many lives. Still, there are so many societies built on hunting monsters… it would require restructuring, and probably bans for a while… guards, maybe co-living in separate places… but, no, no, that would force isolation. We tried that before, and it just worsens the discrimination… Still, this letter, how was it written? Even this applies advancement…" Seth was just mumbling to himself, now blind to the world, so he didn't see how his two friends eyed him.
"Well," Ola coughed. "No clue what possessed Seth, but I am curious. That is…" she hesitated, looking at Ben, "as long as it's reasonably safe. Are you sure they are friendly goblins?"
"Very friendly," Ben smiled. "Blurtius is nice, and he said they are scientists."
"But is it safe, Ben?" Ola repeated.
"Blurtius said, they are not violent." Ben shrugged.
"Hmm," Ola mumbled. "Never heard that about goblins before, but if it's true, there is a curse…"
"It is the truth," Seth has finally awakened from his strange, stately mumbling. "My tutors covered it. We don't know why it happened, but there is strong evidence that such a curse is in effect."
"You had tutors? Just who-" Ola's eyes widened.
"School," Seth quickly jumped in, eyes darting to Ben and then back to Ola. "I meant school, tutors at school."
Ola just rolled her eyes, lying back on the bed, muttering curses to herself.
"I had tutors too," Ben beamed from his corner. "But they didn't teach much… and they always run away. They just always told me they were sorry and won't do it again."
Both Seth and Ola stopped their own muttering and exchanged a look before staring at Ben.
"Ben," Seth started carefully. "Did you, or your family, kidnap those people?"
"I don't think so…" Ben cocked his head to the side. "Dad told me, they sort of just showed up at the castle, always with a bunch of books and papers and notes, and then when they realized someone lived there, they offered to tutor me."
Ola and Seth exchanged another look. "Nevertheless… " Seth said, looking to the side. "We agree on going, right?"
Ben and Ola nodded. Seth got up, "I will tell the barmaid we are leaving then."
"Actually," Ben raised his hand, reddening in his cheeks a bit. "I kind of can't yet…"
A few minutes and a mumbled explanation later. Ola was laughing her face off, and Seth mumbled to himself again.
"We can leave tomorrow after midday, though," Ben smiled, still a bit embarrassed. His friends ignored him.