Long after Heidie had gone to sleep, her soldiers and a few monstrous bison standing guard around her cottage, a debate continued among the dwarves. Stoically and carefully it proceeded. Each adult had their chance to speak and make their case. Arguments over the safety of remaining with a sorcerer or moving somewhere else were primary to the agenda of the evening.

“She is keeping secrets from us.” A dwarf woman spoke up. “The voice that translated called the human its student but was never introduced. Is the student truly able to guarantee our safety and treatment? Why is the student making decisions instead of the master?”

“Necromancy is forbidden. It is a dangerous practice; one that encourages its users to think less of life. Think of how many of the old Sorcerer Kings dabbled in necromancy. This necromancer saved us, true, but can we trust her to remain benevolent?” Another dwarf spoke as the privilege passed to him.

“Anything that the sorcerer wanted from us, she could have taken. Without a doubt this necromancer is strong enough we could not resist her. Instead she helped and offered kindess” A graying dwarf spoke next. He clasped his arm. It was fully healed; no scars or damage showing on the once crippled limb. “Such healing would have been next to impossible to obtain in Mul Borimm, even by impoverishing ourselves. We have no good reason to doubt her word.”

Dharun spoke on his turn “Where would we go if we turned her down? Into the wilds that nearly killed us all? Back to Mul Borimm? To the ashes of our homes to be executed or become slaves to the humans? The armies of Oem and Kaied lie between us and the next nearest city, which will be the next target that the humans attack. All mages have secrets, it does not always mean that those secrets would be harmful to others. Sorcerers are no exception. I think we should remain here.”

The debate continued until every individual had their say. Then it was put to a vote. Ultimately, the dwarves decided to stay.

The dwarves woke early, but found that the necromancer was already awake and eating, a habit of the nightmarish training she'd been through lately. Dhuran and his group of craftsmen joined her, telling her that she was now an elder of the yet to be named village council and they had much to discuss. Lome’Matar’s translator skills were called upon once more.

Heidie was overwhelmed by the deluge of management decisions the dwarves asked her to weigh in on. Standards of architecture, furniture, public order, and public waste; the dwarves had so many lists of things that they wanted her approval or opinion on that Heidie’s brain started shutting down.

“Manage it yourselves.” Heidie finally told them. How the hell was she supposed to know anything about how best to set up aqueducts for waste management? Also, why was a tiny settlement of only about thirty individuals talking about setting up aqueducts? In Heidie’s opinion this was getting ridiculous. “Talk to me if you need help that my..err..minions can provide.” Heidie finally told the dwarves. “They’re effectively tireless and are very strong. I can specialize them for a task if you really need it as well. Also I can make strong tools out of bone if you show me what you need.”

Unfortunately, Heidie did not know what manner of pandora’s box she had opened with that statement. She was suddenly barraged with questions from every dwarven craftsmen. They were eager to discuss the potential automation of gathering and processing resources and tasks all across the board.

Hours later, Heidie’s soldier minions had been outfitted with shiny new reinforced bone axes. They were chopping down and stripping the branches off trees near the river under the careful supervision of Dharun and a group of dwarves. They nitpicked and made Heidie change how the undead performed their task over and over until they were certain they got it right.

It took ages and Heidie found herself mentally exhausted, but by noon a tireless logging operation was underway. Sergeant Spear-Arm had been remodeled to Sergeant Saw-Arm. Now he and the other soldiers were busy cutting down trees and preparing timber. Heidie was ready to call it for lunch until one of the dwarves poking around the area let out a shout. They’d found clay. A large deposit of it.

Heidie sighed as excited dwarves discussed automating the future clay pits and bombarded her with questions about minion options. Being an elder was tiring.

Finally there was an opportunity to break for lunch. Heidie and the dwarven refugees ate the bountiful feast provided by the necromancer’s minions. Heidie asked the dwarves what life was like in the cities of the dwarven society. She was treated to a long discussion of what life was like under the Rashgur Council, a council composed of dwarves and some of the remaining free demi-humans of the continent.

The Rashgur Council was apparently a remarkable pleasant government to live under, for a world who’s technology and culture was strikingly limited anyway. They were a republic that formed from the remains of an old dwarven empire when the humans of the continent struck a terrible blow against their competitors over a hundred years ago. It was primarily composed of dwarves, but had a fair mix of many other species that banded with the Council for protection and prosperity. There was less protection and prosperity lately. Things were looking very bleak for the struggling republic.

Dharun skimmed over a general explanation and more energetically described life for his people within his old city of Mul Borimm. Dwarven society, to Heidie, sounded positively obsessive. They took trades like masonry or carpentry and spent insane amounts of time trying to perfect their craft.

Additionally, every dwarf child was expected to learn not one, but two trades at the very least. Typically only one would be the means by which they lived, but social pressure among their people nearly ensured that everyone was somewhat multi talented in the ‘traditional arts’ as Dharun put it. By nature they had a knack for industry and artisanship that other races could only look upon with jealousy. The dwarves were ridiculously fast learners for matters of crafting and industry.

True to the lore of Heidie’s favorite fantasy worlds, Heidie learned that dwarves were very long lived as well; a normal life expectancy was nearly six hundred years.

They tended to reproduce slowly, however. Dwarven populations had been on the downturn for centuries. Each small war with other races chipping away at them; victory or defeat, the former empire was made less with each conflict. Dharun spoke of the war between the Rashgur Council and the kingdoms of Oem and Kaied. It was dark subject mater. Heidie was shaking by the atrocities that Dharun described.

Lunch lasted an hour before Heidie and the group that would become the new village council continued their rounds. Moving from one side of the village to another, pointing out what would go where.

Matters most discussed were storage locations for the processed timber and other resources and where the workshops which would be placed so that they would have easy access to the materials needed for their crafts. Heidie simply walked alongside the other council members, carrying Lome’Matar’s backpack, and nodded her head from time to time.

Much later, the discussion had been mostly finalized and all that remained was put off for another day. Heidie and the dwarves ate dinner before she returned to her cottage. Physical training had been put by the wayside for now, but she needed to keep up with circulation and advancement towards the second Circle.

Heidie sat on the ground and circulated mana throughout her body. A thought occurred to her.

“Why does this help me advance?” Heidie asked Lome’Matar. “All I’m doing is pushing mana through my whole body over and over again.”

Lome’Matar’s head had been removed from his backpack and placed in a nearby corner. His eyes glowed iridescent green as he answered

“It is to change your body on a fundamental level.” The demon told his student. “Mana will slowly seep into every bone and organ, changing the makeup of your body over time.”

“And that’s a good thing for me?” Heidie asked.

“Yes! As your body changes, you will be able to wield mana both more efficiently and in different ways.” The demon launched into a lecture, the question tying in to things he’d been meaning to teach his disciple.

“Your channels are what allow mana to move from your reservoir, to your body, then to the outside world as a single mana probe. The mana probe allows you to create sigils that form spells and allows you to focus and control them.”

Heidie stopped circulating and focused upon the lecture.

“Your channels are small and few. That is all your body can provide in its current state. When you break through to the second Circle, your body will change. Your channels will widen, your control will grow. Upon reaching the second circle, you will be capable, with some training, of manifesting two mana probes at once, and of casting two spells through each of them.”

“How else will my body change?” Heidie asked “Will there be side effects? Can it harm me in any way?”

Lome’Matar answered with a grin, “You will require more food. Your body will use more energy than before to function, but you will also be somewhat stronger and more durable. Not much. Certainly not to the extent of a physical cultivator, but small changes will add up as you soar to greater heights.”

Heidie grimaced “You didn’t answer if there would be side effects or if it could harm me in any way.”

“How shall I put it?” Lome’Matar smiled wider at his student “The process of breaking through to another Circle is...intense. There will be a great deal of pain and struggle. It will take at least an entire day, perhaps several days. The main risk that an acolyte will experience breaking through to become an apprentice is running out of mana to fuel the change. If that happens you will die, or become crippled and die shortly thereafter.”

“I see.” Heidie said darkly. “And are there any secondary risks?”

“Well…” Lome’Matar said thoughtfully, “There have been cases, very rare cases, where a prospective mage mutates slightly during their breakthrough. It is absolutely a disproportionately infinitesimal chance of that actually happening to you, and even if it did, those mutations are generally helpful.”

Heidie stared at her teacher for a moment. She considered asking how generally exactly, but thought better of it. Heidie sighed. She was doing that a lot lately.

“What will I gain out of the breakthrough? Other than the better channels. That can't be it, right?” Heidie asked

Lome’Matar excitedly answered “Circles are a qualitative change, my dear. The steps between each Circle add to your ability and mana reservoir, somewhat, but breaking through to another Circle is different. When you enter the second Circle you should be able to control nearly four hundred undead. Possibly up to six hundred when you reach the tenth step. Not only that, but your ability to mold the flesh and bone can become much more useful as well, with my training. You will be able to affect changes in your minions to render them even more resilient to harm of all kinds. I can teach you secrets that will allow you to preserve your minions against magic and the common elements used by mages. It will be weak at only the second Circle, but I assure you that even so, it is unmistakably a powerful advantage”

Heidie raised her eyebrow. That was quite a leap. Four hundred minions and the possibility of them gaining resistance to magic in some limited fashion. Sensing his student was pondering things, Lome’Matar jumped in with another bombshell.

“I mentioned creating undead that could learn and grow in the past. In the second Circle you may start to dabble in such things. It will be a strain upon you, but you should be capable of sustaining one such creature when you enter the middle steps of the second Circle.”

Heidie said nothing and went back to circulation. She owed the demon. He had saved her life and quite possibly given her a chance to make her own path in this brutal world, but Heidie did her best to remind herself every day that Lome’Matar was not to be trusted. She would take his knowledge, become strong enough to defend herself, and do her utmost to never again reach a point where her survival depended entirely on the demon. Heidie hoped she knew what she was doing.

Ever since the young necromancer had helped the dwarves and heard their stories of the wars that were sweeping the land, Heidie had started to notice a growing worry inside of her. The world was moving, uncaring of the presence of a young woman from earth. Heidie knew that remaining in hiding on the edge of civilization was just a dream. This village had been found once before. It would probably be found again. Seculsion may not be the answer if Heidie wanted safety and stability.

Soon, Heidie thought, she may be forced to make decisions that would affect lives. She needed to know more about the human kingdoms. Information was lacking but the stories and recounted experiences she’d gotten from the dwarves had painted a very bleak picture of Oem and Kaied.

If the soldiers of those kingdoms came here and demanded the dwarves, what would I do? Heidie asked herself. Run and give them the dwarves or kill to protect them. Then probably run afterwards. Goddamn it. Killing humans...is that really where all this is leading?

Circulation continued and Heidie’s thoughts grew darker. Any introduction to human society, should she choose to go that way, would have to be handled very carefully or risk turning to bloodshed. Being branded a sorceress and having the majority of the civilization turning hostile against her was a real concern. On top of that, Heidie didn’t really want to try and assimilate into a country that was currently killing off or enslaving non-humans. Dwarves were cool.

They’d also mentioned Cat-Folk. How could anyone hurt Cat-Folk? They were probably cute, right? Dwarves were right out of Lord of the Rings, so cat-folk were definitely going to be straight out of anime, Heidie decided. She couldn’t wait to meet one.

Indifferent to the circulating Heidie’s far-fetched delusions, Lome’Matar sat in his corner and thought of the future with a smile on his face. Outside, a heaping pile of moderately mangled wolf corpses, relatively fresh for the shaping, was guarded by an undead bison monster.