Short Story: Wizard and Rogue (stand-alone story)

The wizard went to the rogue’s camp. The two had struck and unusual friendship, with the wizard performing minor magic for the rogue’s benefit, and the rogue acquiring a few odd trinkets that the wizard needed.

“Rogue, I need something different from you today, but you must promise not to ask why.”

The rogue looked up from the blade he was sharpening. “Say it.”

“I require a human skull.”

The rogue thought about it. “Aye. But only if you don’t ask why.”

“What?”

“You can’t ask me why I have them.”

“Agreed.”

The rogue went over to a chest and pulled out a sack. From inside the sack he produced seven skulls.

“Take your pick,” the rogue said.

“This one,” the wizard said after feigning shock. The rogue handed the wizard the indicated skull, and the wizard left.

The next day the wizard returned.

“Can I borrow another skull?”

“Aye, but it’ll cost you two copper, and two copper for the one yesterday.”

The wizard paid four copper and left with the new skull.

The following day, the wizard returned looking tired and repeated the request for a skull.

The rogue nodded, and after being paid two coppers again, gave the wizard a skull.

This happened three more days in a row. Each day, the wizard looked more and more tired. On the seventh day, the wizard appeared to be on the verge of collapse, but once again request a skull at the price of two copper coins.

“Not today, Wizard. The price has gone up.”

The wizard sighed, pushing a long tendril of hair back into the clasp that held it. “Name it.”

“The diamond you wear around your neck.”

The wizard had held the diamond for years. It was a rare token of sentimentality, a gift from a past lover. Now, however, the wizard no longer needed it. If need be, the diamond could be reclaimed later, if only the wizard could get the last skull.

“Agreed, Rogue. Don’t think your greed has gone unnoticed, though.”

The rogue inwardly chafed at the rebuke, but held a neutral expression.

“Then here is the last skull.”

On the eighth day, the wizard returned.

“What do you want now, Wizard? I have no skulls left to give.”

“Perhaps you have one more that interests me. Come with me.”

The rogue followed the wizard back to her chamber and therein were set seven slabs. On each slab was a decapitated body. Each body had one of the skulls the wizard had purchased from the rogue.

“What wicked necromancy is this, Wizard?” the rogue said through fear-clenched teeth.

“Behold.” The wizard tapped the skull at the head of the first body, that of a dwarf woman. The skull glowed an ethereal blue and then transformed. Flesh and skin, eyeballs, hair, all returned to form the face of the she-dwarf the rogue had known quite well.

“Karna,” the rogue gasped.

“Your old adventuring companion. Look again!” The wizard swept her bare arm at the next body. The glowing blue ethereal thread leapt to it, and then the next one, and the next one until all the heads had transformed into the faces the rogue knew well. All but the last, that is. The last was a man dressed as warrior, but the rogue could only guess who he was.

“All are your old friends, companions,” the wizard said. “Each died in your company. Quite a coincidence.”

The rogue, finding some semblance of his usual cool said, “Not the last one, the warrior. I knew him not.”

“Oh, but you did. In the ruins of the temple, you and your companions found what you had been hired to seek. You found the source of the necromancer’s power. Or so you thought. The door of runes resisted every spell, axe hit, and lock pick you had until you all made a fateful decision. Your companions combined their might to attack the door as one. The resulting explosion of runes killed each of your companions, and the necromancer’s champion behind the door. All dead. Except for you. Now, why is that?”

“I had not great spells and no mighty weapons. As you pointed out, my lock picks were useless. I stood back. After the explosion, I…I didn’t know what to do. Whatever eldritch power protected that door had reduced my friends to skeletons. In a daze I collected their skulls. I thought if I could lay them to rest, then they would find peace. But the necromancy stayed in their bones so that no burial mound would contain them. And so, I carried them with me, my burden, until my penance as a survivor was done. They haunted my dreams. I thought you meant to relieve me of that burden.”

“Oh, no Rogue. Here is no relief. Here is only retribution. Rise!”

The seven former corpses stirred.

The rogue sprang into action, his reflexes still keen after all these years. He moved faster than the risen dead, placing copper coins on each of their eyes. One by one, the bodies sighed and fell back into a peaceful repose.

That is, all but the last.

“What is this?!” screamed the wizard. “How have you undone all that I have woven in the eldritch energies?”

“My companions died penniless in that temple ruin. The necromancer’s energy had stripped everything from their bodies. They had nothing with which to pay ferryman in the Underworld and could not rest until the same hand that flayed them from existence paid their way. And with the coins you paid me, I paid their fare. For you are, as I suspected, that same necromancer who slayed them.”

“My, what a clever rogue. It took you long enough. But for you to blame me for their deaths, deaths that were the result of your meddling, is one outrage too much. And you have brought no coins from me for my champion. It is you who will pay.”

The warrior lurched from the slab and shambled forward, sword weaving dangerously back and forth. The rogue danced around the blade. One swipe, two swipes. On the third, the warrior surprised the rogue. He feigned a swipe and impaled the rogue in the side. The rogue twisted and fell away, pulling the sword with him.

“Finish him!” the necromancer shrieked. “Crush the rogue!”

The warrior did as he was commanded, for he was stuck in thrall between life and death. He had rested for a time, not finally, but had at least been free of the commands of the necromancer. It had been a respite. At one time, he had willingly served at her every whim, but that had never been enough. She had never returned the warrior’s love the way he had hoped. His last act had been to stand himself behind the door to buy her escape, one man versus seven. But the necromancer’s own magic had undone him, that and the meddling of the rogue and his companions. A sudden anger burned through the warrior’s otherwise emotionless body, and he lunged at the prone rogue.

As the warrior’s hand darted in, the rogue jammed the necromancer’s diamond into them.

The warrior stumbled back. The effect was immediate. The malevolence of the warrior melted. Dead eyes flared with real life as it beheld the jewel in its hand. Real blood coursed through the face. Haltingly, he turned and approached the wizard.

“My love,” said the warrior. He took the wizard’s hand and pressed the diamond into it. “For eternity.” The wizard’s eyes streamed tears and her lip trembled.

Then the warrior toppled over, finally at rest.

When the wizard/necromancer stopped crying some time later, she approached the fallen rogue.

“How did you know?”

The rogue had freed the sword from his side and had made a poor attempt to bandage the wound.

“I stayed for days at the ruins of your door, trying to figure out how it all went wrong. On one side of the doorway, my six mighty friends had fallen, blasted from existence. On the other, one man in armor and a sword. I thought ‘what fool would face seven heroes by himself?’ I dwelled on the thought for more than a day. The answer, of course, was a fool in love.”

The necromancer stifled a sob.

The rogue continued. “I stayed until I had no food, no water. I crawled out of there, no longer caring if I died. At one point, I passed out. That was the first time the spirits of my companions haunted me. Despair turned to rage. I would have revenge for their deaths. It drove me out of that temple and back to town. I planned revenge on the necromancer who did this, even as I sought a way to lay my friends to rest.

“Yet, one image stayed with me. One man against seven. One fool, one lover, sacrificing himself for his mistress.

“I journeyed far and wide, seeking rest and vengeance for my friends. Holy men and wise women gave me tidbits here and there. Eventually I had it all stitched together. I knew how to lay them to rest. The question of revenge still lingered. And I thought of the fool again. I could twist him into a monster, use the necromancer’s power—your power—against you by turning him into the means of your destruction.”

“But,” the necromancer said, “but you didn’t.”

The rogue coughed and blood came up. He wiped it on the stone floor of the chamber. “No. At some point the thought of revenge left me cold. I realized that to twist the life force of the warrior against you would not just harm you, but him. He had suffered enough in life, a fool’s love unrequited. He needed to rest as badly as my friends had. And so, I allowed him to rest. With that diamond, he fulfilled the one task he had remaining from life.”

The necromancer looked away, gathering herself before she spoke. “I took that diamond from his body. It must have cost him all that I had paid him. How did you miss it, rogue?”

“I didn’t. I saw it on him. Something told me to leave it. Perhaps the spirit world was talking to me even then.”

“I wondered what he had meant to do with that diamond for years. I wore it in memory of him.”

“You loved him too, in your own way.”

“I—I did,” the necromancer said. “But I never…”

“He knew. And now you have the diamond he meant to give you.”

“I do. And you have a sword wound that will end you.”

“Tis a fair trade. I am in need of a rest myself. If you’ll let me.”

The necromancer nodded. “I’ll do nothing to your soul or body.”

“My thanks. If you don’t mind, I’d like to try to make it outside. Always did love this time of year.”

The necromancer nodded and watched as the rogue crawled from her chamber, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Then, she sat with the diamond and her fallen beloved alone in the darkness of her chamber. One life had ended for her, finally, that day. At length, she stood up in the darkness and lit a single candle.

The next day, she emerged from the chamber, sealing it behind her. It would be a proper crypt now. No eldritch energy would corrupt those inside. She did not notice the blood trail up the stairs and out into the autumn landscape. Sometime later, she realized that she never did see the rogue’s body.

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