The ridiculously small bone fit neatly into the slot meant for it in the greater structure of the foot, and I frowned at the collection of other bones laid out on the black cloth. They didn’t exactly match the diagram in the Liber Mortuorum, the book that contained the basics of necromancy spells that Ahn’Khareen had let me use. Since the bones didn’t exactly line up for the past several hours, I had been playing the world’s most annoying game of Tetris, trying to figure out how the foot bones of a wolf fit together.

It had been several days since I had first learned how to create an undead, and I was already beginning to see the massive flaws in Wilbur’s design. The problem was simply that of complexity. Amazingly a rat had more bones than a human, but a wolf had even more bones than a rat did by almost a hundred. After really beginning to learn about the complexity and the sheer number of connections that went into creating an animated skeleton, I was surprised that Wilbur was able to move at all.

Wilbur, for his part, was at least able to determine that I was thinking about him and squeaked at me from his spot next to the book.

I had only spent a couple of hours learning the spell matrix for creating a rat before I had cast the spell, but as it turned out there was a lot more to it than just reading the matrix off a page. As it turned out, the more you knew of a skeletal structure and how the pieces connected, the easier it was to picture how the skeleton in question should move and thus easier to cast the spell. I had known next to nothing about a rat’s skeletal structure when I had made Wilbur, and as it turned out it was essentially just the sheer amount of mana that I had thrown at the matrix that made it work.

Ahn’Khareen had sat me down and we went over the spell I had cast on Wilbur, and it was the most embarrassing moment since I had arrived on this world. She had pointed out every single one of my mistakes, where I could have simplified the spell or where I should have considered how the rat should move. It was a very embarrassing moment, but it did teach me the importance of knowing one’s source material when it came to necromancy.

Luckily for me, Ahn’Khareen had many, many books on bodies and necromancy. I was impressed really, with both the number and the quality of them. Many looked just like the medical textbooks I had seen in my college’s library in how detailed they were. Thinking about how that detail had been achieved without x-rays or MRI machines made me shudder.

Of course, I had been a devil of the time trying to find the Liber Mortuorum, Ahn’Khareen’s library had a lot of books and if she had a sorting system, I couldn’t figure it out. Being unable to read the titles of most of the books didn’t help either. But once I could did manage to find it, the information on necromancy within was more than worth the effort.

Thus, the skeleton in front of me. Ahn’Khareen had rigged some kind of magical device that let the bones hover just in the air above the table, allowing me to piece together the bones how they should be arranged in three dimensions. That is, if I could figure it out, considering how many small bones made up the feet of a wolf.

I hesitated with the next bone, trying to make out the text on the page and where it should be placed on the foot. One problem was that the “scientific” names of all these bones was in Elvish, and not even the Khareeni Elvish that Ahn’Khareen spoke and was teaching me but apparently the Auriastrani dialect. They were frustratingly similar in most ways that I could just barely understand it, but different enough that I had to struggle to figure it out. Eventually I just gave up and slotted the bone into a spot that looked free.

“That is the incorrect placement.”

“Gah!”

I jumped and nearly knocked the wolf’s foot out of the floating spell while Wilbur squeaked and hid behind the Liber Mortuorum. I turned to glare at Ahn’Khareen who was standing right behind my chair, having sneaked up on me while I was busy with the bones and the book.

“That is one of the phalangeal bones, not a tarsal bone.”

I looked suspiciously at her, then compared the shapes of the bones she had mentioned in the book to the one I had just placed.

“Shit.” I muttered, pulling the bone out and placing it where it was supposed to go.

Ahn’Khareen chuckled and made her way around to the other side of the table to continue observing my work.

“The most complicated and time-consuming aspect of necromancy is understanding the structures of a body. This wolf is in fact but one of the least difficult kinds of undead to create.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” I grumbled, rubbing at my eyes in exhaustion.

“It may not seem like it now, but there are benefits to knowing the forms of these kinds of bodies. Once you are skilled enough, you may even begin to modify them, making them stronger, faster, more efficient."

“Really?”

“Indeed, although it does take significant time and study.”

“At the rate I’m going right now, by the time I figure out a wolf I’ll be dead of old age.” I moaned.

Ahn’Khareen’s eyes flared, and her voice held a note of good humor. “Well, it is a good thing that there are ways to escape death, as I should know.”

That made my heart pick up, just a little bit, and I leaned forwards. “You mean you would tell me how to become a lich?”

“I believe you still have a far way to go until you reach that level.” She laughed softly and gestured at the wolf’s foot. “I would recommend you master at least a wolf before you even attempt Soul Magic. But I do admire your recent dedication to the craft, my apprentice.”

The compliment made me smile, despite my frustrations. Even though it was frustrating and still a little disturbing to be working with so many bones and skeletons, I actually did find myself enjoying necromancy.

I didn’t so much enjoy the actual dead part of raising the undead but putting together the small bits and the problem-solving aspect were surprisingly fun. It was like the world’s most complicated puzzle. Frustrating to do, but immensely satisfying once all the pieces came together.

“It’s the challenge of it, isn’t it?” Ahn’Khareen asked, putting my thoughts to words.

“Yes.” I said softly, still looking at the foot of the wolf.

“That is the mark of a true necromancer. Any necrophiliac with a modicum of magical potential can create an undead. A necromancer, however, is one who can see the beauty in the natural form and use it to their own advantage.”

“I’m… not sure if I see the beauty in a skeleton.” I said hesitantly. “But I can appreciate the magic behind it. It’s like a massively complicated math equation. I was never really into math, but I can admire how it all works out and resolves itself.”

“I see. Regardless of the deeper meaning behind it, I am still proud of the progress you have made so far. If you need any help, I would be willing to assist my apprentice.”

With that she made her way back around the table and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Wilbur reappeared from behind the book and rubbed his non-existent whiskers. He really wasn’t all that bad when it came down to it, and beyond a few lingering doubts about having a skeleton as a pet, he could even be cute at times.

I turned back to the bones in front of me with what wasn’t quite a new outlook on necromancy. It was still a little odd and creepy, but I was beginning to see its value and even its artistry.

“Huh.” I said, picking up a small bone and saw how it would connect with the others.

--##--

“I’m surprised you actually came back.” I said to Penelope, who was sitting opposite me across the small campfire.

“Oh?” She said, arching an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Well, I did tell you about the goblins, right?”

“You did, but since we met last week not a single person of my village has mentioned seeing any. I figured if it was safe enough for you, it would be fine for me.”

I frowned at her. “I’ll have you know that it’s not quite safe for me, when I first got here, I was shot with a couple of arrows.”

“You seem to be relatively healthy to me.” She said with a faint blush.

“Uh huh.” I considered her for a few seconds while the fire cracked and popped.

Ahn’Khareen told me that the woman had entered the forest again earlier today and had not-so gently hinted that I should reach her before anything else did. Penelope had been surprised that I had found her, but readily accepted my explanation that I had been out on a walk “contemplating nature.” Apparently, that was what naturalists did in this world, and I wasn’t going to turn away such an easy way out of an awkward conversation.

For this meeting however, Penelope had come prepared. She had arrived wearing stout trousers and a short jacket over a vest, all in a dark brown that blended quite well into the scenery. Thick leather boots completed the look, and she had the same long knife on a belt as the first time we had met. Added to what I deemed her “explorers gear,” she had also brought along a leather backpack with a bunch of supplies inside.

That was why we set up a campfire going, to heat up some soup in a metal canteen that she had brought since I apparently “looked too thin” according to her. The soup was heating up now, and we relaxed and ate some bread and dried fruits while it finished cooking.

“Well, I won’t say your incapable of taking care of yourself, but I would recommend being careful in these woods.”

“Bah.” She waved the concern away. “I have played in these woods since I was young. If you have been safe for so long, then so shall I.”

I bit my tongue, although I was vaguely tempted to tell her that I could protect myself with magic. That was far too big of a secret to let on right now however, and as much as I wanted to make sure that the first living person on this new world I had met would be safe, I couldn’t risk getting the wrong reaction. I would have to be satisfied with careful hints and warnings.

“So why did you come back?”

“Well, I must admit, it was quite refreshing talking to somebody who had some education, not just the- everybody else.”

Yup. I thought miserably. She’s a rich girl.

I couldn’t be certain of course, but I had thought about it for the past week, and everything seemed to line up. Penelope had mentioned reading the works of various scholars, and while I didn’t know how literate most people were, the amount of time to read these books could be quite long. That meant she needed a lot of time to read, which she probably wouldn’t have if she was working all day.

Even back home people didn’t have all the time they wanted to do things like that, and I imagined it was probably worse here. As well, she slipped up sometimes and referred to people as commoners, which was the sign of a rich person if I ever heard one.

If she was rich, then things could much, much more complicated if she was hurt by goblins. Or hell, maybe even if people learned I was here, and she was going to meet with me.

Shit.

Of course, I couldn’t just come out and tell her that I knew her secret, despite how poorly she had been hiding it. She might get the wrong idea and tell others about me. And that would be worse than just playing along with her.

“Well, I’m glad I could entertain.” I said, chuckling weakly.

“Oh yes! Your fashion designs were well received, trust me.” Penelope hesitated, then leaned in conspiratorially. “And between you and me, I have already constructed one of these “hoodies” you have mentioned.”

“What? Already?”

She laughed merrily, reached into the bag she had brought, and pulled out perhaps the strangest hoodie I had ever seen. It wasn’t made from cotton like hoodies were back home, but looked to be a blend of, what, linen and wool? I didn’t know fabrics near enough to tell, but it looked pretty comfy. The sleeves were a little baggier than normal, and the hood didn’t have the drawstring to tighten it, but it was definitely a hoodie. There were also no zippers, of course, so it was fastened closed with buttons.

Penelope eagerly took off the jacket she was already wearing, tossing it on top of the bag, and pulled on the hoodie.

“I must admit, even if nothing else proved of value, this alone would be worth it!”

It looked more than a little out of place from the rest of her outfit, but I would be lying if I didn’t want one for myself at that moment. I was starting to get sick and tired of wearing robes for months on end. I clapped politely for her as she stood up to show it off, and she looked inordinately pleased when she sat back down.

“It looks very good.” I said, and she blushed again.

“Oh, it was nothing. The basic idea of it was quite simple to plan and cut the fabric for. The most tedious part was the actual sewing, that took a few days to get done.”

I goggled at her while she looked away from me to tug on her new hoodie. A few days? I didn’t know if those were full days of just sewing or not, but that seemed like entirely too much work for just a hoodie.

But if there’s a sewing machine… I didn’t know how exactly this world’s technology lined up with back home. At some points it felt like the medieval ages, while other times it almost seemed like the 1700’s. I’d spent over three months in this forest however, and without leaving it there was no real way to tell.

“My father of course is quite skeptical of it, and although he doesn’t say it, I know he feels it’s a waste of fabric. If he could see how comfortable it is, I’m sure he would change his mind, but he’s too bound to tradition to even try it.”

“Uh huh.”

I wasn’t sure when sewing machines were invented. I wanted to say sometime in the 1700’s, but it could have been later. Wasn’t the industrial revolution in the late 1700’s? I remember learning about the cotton gin being invented around then, but who knew if there was even cotton in this world? There was just so much I didn’t know.

“William?”

“Hm?”

“It’s not exactly polite to ignore somebody when they’re talking.”

I blinked, and blushed with embarrassment, having been caught on getting too carried away with my thoughts.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I was just… thinking about how times have been changing.”

“I would imagine it must be a serious topic of thought for you.” She said, inspecting my clothes. “You dress like a monk and living out in the forests must give you a… unique view on the matter.”

“What do you think about it?” I asked.

“About?”

“How things have been changing.”

“Oh, what a good question!” Penelope was silent for a long moment, considering. “I think it’s a good thing that some of the laws have been changing recently. But at the same time, I worry that the nobility’s power will start getting diluted the more we let commoners into higher positions of influence. While that’s not a bad thing on its own, I think that the disruption of our empire’s social structure could be problematic during the war. What do you think?”

I nodded sagely. “That’s actually very close to what I’ve been thinking.”

“Really? Well, I knew that you were an intellectual, but it’s always nice to share political news. Oh, the soup is almost done.”

While she bent over the pot she had brought to cook the soup, I was mentally celebrating. This was the most I had ever learned of the outside world, and apparently there was a war going on?

“It’s ready!”

Penelope pulled two bowls out of the bag and carefully poured some of the soup in the pot into them. How does she manage to cram so much stuff into that backpack?

I took the proffered bowl and spoon, and carefully took a sip of the soup. The world seemed to stop for a second as the warm liquid seemed to spread through my body, easing muscles that I didn’t even know had been tensed. Crackling energy filled my body, the world just seemed brighter and more in focus, but at the same time I could feel my heart start to beat a little slower. For what seemed like the first time since I got here, I felt relaxed, and all the worries I had been holding onto slowly ebbed away.

There were bits of meat and vegetables floating in the broth, but I couldn’t exactly pin what kind of soup it was. I didn’t think it was beef or chicken, but I didn’t know what else it could be. I couldn’t even really figure out if it had a flavor at all, but the experience of being relaxed was enough to glass over that fact.

“Holy shit.” I breathed, staring at the dark broth. “This is the best thing I’ve had in months, possibly years!”

“Well, I suppose that proves that theory.” Penelope said smugly, sipping at her own soup.

“I’ve been living on… well, for the past few months I haven’t been eating anything like this!”

“Really?”

“Bread, cheese sometimes, dried meats.”

“And you never made a soup?”

I paused, staring at her in astonishment and she shook her head incredulously. “I swear, every scholar I have ever known has been more concerned with the shape of a butterfly’s wings rather than how to take care of themselves.”

“To be fair, I have been busy.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have. Regardless, I’m glad you enjoyed the soup, it’s rare for me to get out and have a nice picnic like this.”

I slurped down some more of the heavenly broth and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why is that?”

“Oh, father has been more overprotective than usual lately.”

“Hmm, because of the war?” I said casually, like I knew what I was talking about.

“That’s the reason he gives, but I think there’s something else there. He never liked me going into the forest as a kid, and for the past couple of months he’s actually banned me from coming in here.”

Cocking an eyebrow as a question, I continued to eat the soup.

“Well yes, I ignored him. He’s a good man, but he jumps at shadows, this forest has been safe for generations. I’ve been painting in these woods for years; I’m not going to stop because some witch told him there was evil in here.”

I scoffed, unable to help myself. Ahn’Khareen had a poor opinion of witches, seeing them as little more than charlatans and dabblers in magic, not true mages. I hadn’t met any witches, but admittedly if even half of what Ahn’Khareen had said about them was true, then they didn’t exactly seem like the most trustworthy of people.

“Exactly my point!” Penelope crowed, slightly interpreting my response. “Besides, all this talk about evil and what-not, it’s positively… medieval.”

That caused me to put down my bowl. “So, you don’t believe evil exists?”

“Oh, not like how the church presents it. I am a modern woman after all. The gods may exist, we certainly have proof of that in spades, but the concept of good and evil being real, physical forces? I find that hard to believe.”

“Do you believe that magic can be evil? Surely something like necromancy, for sake of argument, is evil?”

She frowned, picking slowly at her bowl. “That’s a difficult question. Of course, necromancy is not a pleasant thing, it has been used for evil throughout the centuries. But is the nature of it evil? I don’t know to be honest. What do you believe?”

“This is something I’ve actually been considering for a while.” I said, truthfully. “Do you consider your weapon to be evil?”

“This?” She touched the blade, confused. “It’s not a weapon, it’s a tool.”

“But it can be used as one, if the need arises.”

“Well, I suppose so. Oh, I think I see your point.”

“Exactly. A sword may be used to do evil things, but is it the sword’s fault? Or the users?”

She leaned forwards, a light in her eyes. “And what one person may call evil may be another person’s good.”

“Take for instance this war, you may believe yourself to be in the right, but so do your enemies. They see themselves as being good, while you are the evil ones in this conflict.”

The results of that were not quite what I expected, as she frowned and shook her head. “I’m not sure I would go that far. And, if I were you, I would be careful with what you say in these parts. The more enlightened scholars of the capital and other cities may be more accepting of those ideas, but around here people are more… traditional. It would be best not to question our role in the war.”

She emphasized the word “our”, and I got the hint, picking my bowl back up and eating to try and defuse the tension.

“Yes, well, I believe we’ve gotten a bit away from the topic at hand. You were talking about being banned from the forest?”

“Oh, yes. My father is a good man, but like I said he is quite traditional. Just because a witch came through the town a few months ago and told him that evil had awoken in the forest doesn’t mean that I should be banned from it.”

I froze for just a second, then smoothly continued eating the soup. Its taste had faded to ash in my mouth, and a fresh current of tension ran through my body.

“How long ago was this?”

“The witch? I’m not sure, maybe two months ago? Three?”

“Huh.”

Penelope didn’t seem to care much about the timing, but icy tendrils of dread gripped my heart. Witches may be quacks as far as I knew, but three months ago was when I had arrived here. When Ahn’Khareen had awoken.

“Did your father say he was going to do anything about it?”

“Oh, I’m not really sure, I didn’t exactly pay attention besides the fact that I’m not allowed into the forest anymore.” She turned a sunny smile on me, but my thoughts were too focused on the fact that somebody might know about Ahn’Khareen. “And as you may have been able to tell, that’s not going to stop me. I would imagine the local militia will eventually do something about it but the goblins, if they exist, will be higher on their list of priorities.”

“The militia?”

“Oh yes, they’re quite good. Since you haven’t seen anything, I doubt it will be a problem, but they should take care of this “evil” that witch was speaking of.”

We sat and talked there for a little while longer, but my heart wasn’t in it. Eventually we cleaned up the meal and I walked her back to the edge of the forest again. She hesitated at the tree line, looking back at me with concern.

“Are you okay William? You seem distracted.”

“Oh, yes I’ll be fine.”

“It’s still early, do you want to come with me back to my home?”

She was quiet as she said that concern in her voice. I looked up into the sky and was stricken with its beauty once again. It was clear, so much clearer than the sky ever had been back home.

“No thank you.” I said, mind racing with thoughts of home, of family, and of magic.

“What will you do then?”

A nugget of resolve formed in my chest. Until I could get back to my world, Ahn’Khareen and her home were my home now. I wasn’t sure if the goblins or this militia would prove to be a threat, but until then…

“I’m a scholar.” I said with a brittle smile. “So, it’s time for me to study.”