Never Die Twice

[Alchemical Rats]…

The more he considered the idea, the more interesting it sounded. Man-eating rats feeding on blood, and whose swarms could thrive in the harshest conditions… survival incarnate… capable of serving as spies, assassins, familiars… it would take weeks to breed a swarm, but...

“Mr. Tye?” A maiden’s sweet voice drew him out of his reverie and brought him back to his shop’s counter.

“Yes, Laufey?” The dark elf had taken a human shape using magic, that of a demure, beautiful young maiden with pristine skin, deep crimson hair, and azure eyes. She looked somewhat vulnerable, like a kind girl in need of a knightly protector. A true wolf in sheep's clothing.

Speaking of wolves, Tye didn’t know what to make of the ‘pets’ she brought from Niflheim. He had given the two creatures a spot in the dungeon, but they had bitten Duke when he tried to feed them.

“Your landscape painting gift arrived,” she said, before smirking as if sharing an inside joke. “From the Church of Balder.”

Finally. “Put it in the storage room, I will add it to my sanctuary later.”

Tye found something mesmerizing about watching a good painting. An immortalized image, unchanging, beyond the grasp of time… a good painting was like undeath, a state which transcended this painful, transient world.

The necromancer noticed ‘newcomers’ enter his shop, although by now they had become regulars: Annie, Takeru, and Morgane.

A good week had passed since the deadly, stillborn raid. The princess had taken to curing the wounded with the help of the local churches, although they struggled to find an antidote. Those who inhaled the toxin were lucky to survive with permanent health problems. The fear of the gas had halted the adventurers’ efforts to attack the dungeon, much to everyone’s frustration.

Amusingly, Yseult had contracted Tye to work on a cure. The necromancer loved getting paid to solve the problems he created.

“You’re new,” Takeru said upon noticing Laufey, with his usual bluntness.

“I present to you my new assistant, Laufey,” Tye said, the young girl bowing shyly before his clients.

“An assistant?” Annie frowned slightly, showing a hint of jealousy. “But you never took one before!”

“She’s a special case,” the necromancer reassured his favorite client.

“Laufey,” Morgane said. “It means full of leaves in old Midgardian, does it not?”

“My father named me this because it reminded him of a forest he loved,” the girl said, her cheeks reddening. Tye had to admit, he admired her acting. “He was in love with a local fey in his youth.”

“Oh, so you come from the Feylands?” Annie immediately quizzed the newcomer. “Life there must have been harsh.”

“Yes. Father sent me away to his old friend Walter, so I could work safely in a big city,” the fiendish elf said, spinning another lie on the spot. “He saved my father’s life, you know? He couldn’t shut up about how he was on the verge of death until Tye all but brought back to life...”

Of course, she had to word it that way. What a bitch.

“You have always been so kind,” Annie smiled at the necromancer. “You never told me you visited the Feylands.”

“I traveled far and wide to peddle my wares,” Tye said, glaring at Laufey for giving too many details. The wicked girl responded with a smile that seemed sheepish, but he knew she annoyed him on purpose.

“You don’t look older than us,” Takeru said bluntly, Annie elbowing him. The more he knew him, the more the earthlander struck Tye as the sharpest knife in the princess’ party. Always on edge, always careful.

“I don’t look like it, but I’m twenty-four,” Tye lied, this having been the age he had before his death. “I’ve been working since I was twelve.”

“That’s early,” Morgane said. “Your parents needed more money than they could bring back home?”

“No. I was orphaned by a Convergence with Niflheim, and I had to survive on my own.”

“Oh, my condolences,” Morgane said, but her sympathies sounded empty. Even though she belonged to an organization dedicated to dealing with that kind of threat.

“It was a long time ago,” Tye said, although he remembered every second of that fateful day. Watching his fellow villagers slaughtered by giant wolves before his eyes had instilled the deep, primal fear of death that drove him to this day. “But I don’t like to talk about it, so please let's change the subject.”

“Yes!” Annie said. “Sorry, we didn’t come here to open old wounds. We need your help!”

“You want elixirs that can protect you from the smog?” Tye guessed.

“No,” Takeru said. “We need stuff which can allow us not need to breathe at all. Gwen said they could use other toxins, or suffocate us by closing the exits.”

“I know how to create [Potions of Breathlessness], which allow you to go without breathing for eight hours,” said Tye. “They will be expensive, but I can manufacture a large stockpile if you give me a good two weeks.”

“That’s too long,” Takeru complained.

He could do it in half the time, but couldn’t extend that deadline more without looking suspicious. Also, he had an errand to run. “I will have to close the shop for a few days, due to a business trip,” Tye said. “I’m sure the princess could ask the Academy to produce these potions before my return.”

The fact she hadn’t meant two things; either the Academy didn’t consider the matter important enough to allocate too many resources to it, or the princess didn’t want to call upon them.

“Two weeks is fine!” Annie said, Takeru grumbling at his arrows ‘rusting’ from inactivity. “If you need someone to manage the shop in your absence, I can help!”

“Annie, we need you elsewhere than behind a counter,” Morgane said, with a tone that implied she thought the activity beneath her. “Jarl Gales will arrive any day now, and doing merchant duty will disparage our class before him.”

Jarl Gales? The father of the fallen boy, Tye remembered. As a Jarl, a powerful noble with his own territory, he might prove to be a future problem. No matter. Noble or commoners, heroes or villains, they would all join the cohort of the dead. “You are adorable, Annie,” Tye said with a smirk. “But I cannot delegate my shop.”

Too many secrets to uncover here.

“I know,” the witch said, her hands joined behind her back. “But I miss our old spellcasting lessons!”

“I will gladly give you new ones, after my return,” Tye said. “In fact, I would teach your entire class, if needed.”

“That would be great,” Annie said, eager to catch up on lost time.

“Thank you for the offer,” Morgane said hurriedly. “But we already have a strict curriculum and excellent teachers.”

“But—”

“Annie, if you want private lessons, you may do as you wish, but the Academy cannot allow an alchemist with an unknown background too close to Gwen.”

“I have been in this city for two years now,” Tye replied, Laufey watching the scene while hiding an amused grin behind her hand.

“But there have been many unexplained deaths in the city for far longer,” the redhead replied. “That’s what Gwen said. Too many unexplained disappearances over the years. She wonders if the undead have accomplices above… and we haven’t seen what that evil wizard below looks like, once his mask removed.”

“Are you accusing Tye of being a murderer?” Annie asked, aghast, while Takeru remained stone-faced.

“Those are very harsh accusations,” Laufey protested, the very picture of concern. “Walter… Walter has been ever so kind.”

“Of course I do not accuse him personally,” Morgane said, although she didn’t protest that hard. “But it’s Gwen we are talking about. You understand, Mr. Tye? She is the princess of Avalon. She is too important to endanger.”

“I understand,” the necromancer said, although he was inwardly enraged. There went his chance to infiltrate the Academy himself.

Morgane gave him a fake smile which made him want to strangle her. She gave some excuse about needing to see Gwen, and then all but dragged her classmates out of the shop.

“What do you think of them?” Tye asked Laufey, once the adventurers out of his shop.

“That Morgane is an envious serpent,” the dark elf said while putting a finger to her lips. Tye had noticed she did that when she felt excited. “I can smell the grudges she nurses. Such a delightful mix of jealousy, bitter hate, and salty cruelty… I cannot wait to peel away her beautiful facade and reveal the festering ugliness underneath.”

The necromancer raised an eyebrow. So his demonology grimoires spoke the truth; she could sense the emotions of the living and read them like they were books. “Something to exploit?”

“Of course, Darling. But to what ends?”

“Divide, and conquer,” Tye said. “The more discord in their ranks, the better. So long as it can’t be traced back to me... to us.”

The adventurers outnumbered them and could access greater resources. But when Tye’s forces moved, they all did in the same direction, while the aborted raid showed the enemy’s lack of unity.

Also, the more he saw that girl Morgane, the more she annoyed him. He wouldn’t mind seeing her dragged into the mud.

“In that case, I will start with the—” Tye silenced Laufey with a glance, as a familiar face entered the shop. Percy.

“Hello young man,” the necromancer said. “My condolences for your loss. Sigurd was a good man.”

“Thank you,” the boy said, his voice heavy. According to his creased eyes, he hadn’t slept in days. “I’m looking for a potion of… of courage.”

“A potion of courage?”

“I’m having nightmares,” Percy said but didn’t elaborate much.

“About the dungeon, I wager? Do you want the potion to fight the nightmares in your sleep or those in the dungeon?”

The young man glanced away, not that enthusiastic about the idea of returning down the tunnels. “I don’t know.”

As the necromancer had expected, having come close to dying twice must have made the squire reconsider a career in adventuring. “You’re an earthlander, right?” Tye asked. “Why aren’t you with the Academy?”

“I lost my [Sacred Weapon],” the young man admitted. “Even if I can wield others, the Academy didn’t think I held up to their standards.”

“Because you don’t like fighting,” Laufey guessed. While she sounded sympathetic, her words were subtle daggers. “You’re frightened by monsters… poor lad...”

Percy suddenly found looking at his own feet much more interesting than the shopkeeper’s face. “Even if I don’t like talking for the dead,” Tye said. “Sigurd would not have wanted you to die trying to avenge him.”

“How would you know that?”

Because the necromancer kept his soul in his basement and extracted every bit of worthwhile information from it. “I had a mentor once, and he asked me not to take revenge; that I should better keep circulating the knowledge he taught me, rather than seek out my own destruction. He ordered me to survive at all costs, so that the work may go on.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” Percy asked, in need of guidance. “Just let it go?”

“You can never let a tragedy go,” Tye spoke from the heart. “But the anguish you feel? You can channel it elsewhere than against monsters. The dungeon is not the only place that needs help, Percy. The city’s watch is understaffed, allowing ruffians to operate. Fighting rings, murders, racket, drug running... banditry around Lyonesse does more harm in a month than the dungeon in a year.”

“I… You think I can make a difference there?”

“You seem like a smart young lad,” Tye said with a nod, “I think your talents would serve this institution better. Seek an audience with Captain Goremand from my part, and he will gladly welcome you into the watch. I can even write you a letter of introduction.”

“I… that would be great,” Percy said, having forgotten about his potion of courage. “I… I can check it out.”

“You won’t regret it,” Tye said before putting a blue elixir on the counter, “Here is a [Potion of Peaceful Sleep] for your nightmare problem. It’s on me.

“I can’t accept it,” Percy protested. He finally accepted it, but only after Tye insisted for a good five minutes before showing him the door. The squire ended up leaving while thanking him profusely.

“You should have killed him,” Laufey said as soon as the necromancer closed the door. “Or given him to me.”

“He’s out of the adventurer business, and thus out of my way. It spares us the effort of dealing with him.” The necromancer loathed unnecessary killings, and he preferred to live in an ordered, peaceful land.

“I hope you do not ‘live’ to regret your decision,” Laufey replied. “I will work my magic on these children right away.”

“Good. But first I will need your assistance for a task underground.”

Truth to be told, even Tye couldn’t create a limitless number of [Smog Oozes], since his cauldron needed chemical materials to manufacture them. Some of them relatively rare. He needed to diversify his forces and fortify the dungeon. He had sent Hagen to do the former, and would deal with the latter matter personally.

It was finally time for Tye to conquer the deeper levels, and become the ruins’ true master. Whatever horrors awaited below, they would bow to his will, or they would die. All those who stood between him and his dream would die.

That was just the way things worked.