By the time she’d wrung the necessary information from the trembling Cultist, Sarah’s heart was a frantic drum against her ribs. She’d practically sprinted back, the damp earth squelching beneath her boots, the image of her tower burning in her mind. But even as she burst through the door, a cold dread had already begun to seep into her bones.

  The tower room was indeed empty, save for Melissa and the two small corpses. The sight hit Sarah like a physical blow. For a sickening moment, they seemed to blur, morphing into the pale, still faces of Ariel and Sebastian. It was a phantom echo of their deaths, a fresh wave of grief crashing over her. Her knees buckled, and she gripped the edge of a nearby desk, fighting back a wave of nausea.

  Ariel’s cheerful smile, so bright and infectious, flashed before her eyes. She could almost hear her bubbly laughter echoing through the empty room. Then came Sebastian, his brow perpetually furrowed in concentration, the sharp, calculated logic that always danced behind his intelligent eyes. They were gone. Gone. The realization was a heavy weight in her chest. They wouldn't be able to inhabit the copses again unless she cast (Create Undead).

  A bitter taste rose in Sarah’s throat. She’d been trying so hard to steer clear of necromancy. Every fiber of her being recoiled at the thought of manipulating life and death, of binding souls to decaying flesh. Yet, the universe, it seemed, was determined to hold her hand as it walked her down that path. It was a cruel joke, a cosmic nudge towards the very thing she feared most. Was this her destiny? To become the very thing everyone else despised?

  But… Ariel and Sebastian. They weren’t just random souls she’d plucked from the ether. They were… Family. A strange, unconventional family, perhaps, forged in the crucible of magic and death, but family nonetheless. She’d grown fond of their quirks, their personalities, their very essence. They weren't just undead; they were Ariel and Sebastian. The thought of leaving them trapped in the void, their consciousness extinguished, was unbearable. A tear escaped, tracing a lonely path down her cheek.

  The internal struggle raged within her. The ethical implications, the fear of the dark path that lay before her, warred with the love she felt for these two souls. She closed her eyes, the silence of the tower amplifying the turmoil in her heart. What choice did she have?

  The cold stone of the tower pressed against Sarah’s back, a stark contrast to the burning turmoil within her. Each ragged breath was a battleground, the whisper of the wind through the arrow slits a mournful chorus to the ethical war raging in her soul. The love she held for Melissa and Elias, a fragile, precious thing, was locked in a desperate struggle with the chilling dread of the path she knew lay before her. It was a path shrouded in shadows, a place where the whispers of the dead mingled with the screams of the living, a place she had vowed never to tread again. Yet, here she was, poised on its precipice.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, the rough-hewn timbers of the tower’s interior blurring into a swirling darkness. The silence, broken only by the frantic pounding of her own heart, amplified the chaos in her mind. What choice did she have? The question echoed in the hollow chambers of her heart, a relentless drumbeat against the fragile hope that still flickered within her. She knew the answer, or at least, she thought she did. The lives of those she loved hung in the balance, weighed against the cost of her own damnation.

  Finally, she opened her eyes, the grey light of the approaching dawn casting long, skeletal shadows across the floor. She looked at Melissa, her face etched with worry, tears already brimming. The words she had to say felt like shards of glass in her throat.

  "I'm sorry, Melissa. This was my fault." The confession tumbled out, raw and ragged. Melissa’s brow furrowed in confusion, her tears momentarily forgotten.

  "What? They attacked us, Sarah! They… they tried to… You haven’t done anything wrong,” she stammered, her voice thick with unshed tears. The injustice of it all, the sheer, brutal randomness of the assault, threatened to overwhelm her.

  Sarah shook her head, unable to meet Melissa’s gaze. “That’s… that’s not what I meant. I’m a Necromancer.” The word hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. It was a brand, a scarlet letter in the arcane world, a death sentence in some circles.

  Melissa recoiled, a flicker of fear crossing her face, but it was quickly replaced by something else, something stronger. She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and gripped Sarah’s shoulders. Her touch was firm, grounding. She looked directly into Sarah’s eyes, her own filled with a fierce determination.

  "I don't care," she said, her voice ringing with conviction. "You're one of the nicest people I've ever met. Hell, I don't even care what the Syndicate says. I've met plenty of priests and officials who are further down the dark path than than you are.” A small, almost imperceptible shudder ran through her as she spoke the last words, but her gaze never wavered.

  Sarah was stunned. She had braced herself for revulsion, for fear, for the horrified flight she had anticipated. She had expected Melissa to scream, to run, to look at her with the wide-eyed terror of someone confronted with a monster.

  Instead, she was met with acceptance, with unwavering support. A wave of warmth spread through her, chasing away some of the icy dread that had gripped her heart. It was a small ember in the darkness. For the first time, she had spoken the truth, and instead of rejection, she had found… Understanding. The burden on her soul, though still heavy, felt infinitesimally lighter. The secret, the gnawing fear, had finally been shared.

  "Thank you, Melissa," was all she said, gratitude laced with a chilling resolve, as Sarah cast (Create Undead). The air in the chamber crackled with necromantic energy. From the cold stone floor, the corpses of the children, so recently full of life and laughter, began to stir. Their movements were jerky, unnatural, their eyes vacant and dull. They were no longer the vibrant, innocent souls they had been; they were empty vessels, puppets animated by dark magic. A pang of guilt, sharp and swift, pierced Sarah's heart, but she pushed it down. This was necessary.

  Opening the ethereal interface of the tower, a shimmering blue screen only she could see, Sarah meticulously spent the souls she had earned in training. The energy surged, feeding the spell. With a whispered command, she summoned Ariel and Sebastian.

  The transformation of the risen corpses was swift and unsettling. The girl's dull flesh shed, reforming into smooth, healthy skin. Her hair, once dark, now flowed in a cascade of shimmering gold, quickly concealed by a whimsical, yet practical, frog outfit that materialized around her, covering her from neck to toe.

  Ariel’s eyes flickered open, filled with a complex mix of emotions – confusion, fear, and a deep, gnawing remorse. Her small face crumpled, cycling through a rapid succession of expressions before settling on a look of sheepish apology. "I'm sorry, Master," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "This was my fault. I was… Flaunting my power, trying to scare them, when I should have locked the tower down immediately." The weight of her mistake pressed down on her, her shoulders slumping. She was taking the tragedy hard, the souls lost because of her lapse in judgment a heavy burden on her.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Sebastian, his eyes as sharp and calculating as ever, his usually vibrant blue hair slicked back, offered a counterpoint. "It wasn't your fault, Ariel. He would have used (Dispel) regardless. He was determined to breach the tower. The only saving grace was Solus."

  His voice was calm and reasoned, yet a coldness lingered in its tone, a reflection of the ruthless pragmatism that defined him. He understood the necessity of their actions, but that didn't lessen the sting of the loss.

  Sarah, watching Ariel's distress, felt a surge of protectiveness. She knew Sebastian was right. The invaders would have used any means at their disposal to break through their defenses. It just galled her that they had resorted to such drastic measures while she had been out dealing with goblins. A bitter taste filled her mouth.

  Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of emotion, Sarah pulled both Ariel and Sebastian into a tight embrace. The contact was new, but it spoke volumes. Both of them were initially surprised by the unexpected gesture, their bodies stiffening for a moment. But as Sarah held them closer, the warmth of her embrace seeping through their shock, they slowly reciprocated, their own arms tentatively reaching back to return the hug.

  The shared moment of grief and understanding was a silent acknowledgment of the trauma they had all endured. Nearby, Melissa, her eyes still red and swollen from crying, leaned into the huddle, seeking comfort in the shared physical contact. The small group, bound by magic, loss, and the shared responsibility of their grim task, found solace in each other's presence.

  "I've seen enough," a voice resonated from the doorway, chilling Sarah to the bone. That voice, so familiar, so carefully modulated – calm and collected when discussing the intricacies of Grower, yet endearingly flustered when venturing into personal territory, always punctuated by a touch of cheesy charm. Now, however, it carried a different weight, a resonance of wounded pride.

  Sarah turned, her heart sinking, to find Leo standing framed in the doorway. His expression was a complex tapestry of emotions, dominated by a profound sense of betrayal. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, now held a chilling distance. They spoke volumes: "I’ve been lied to, and I was too blind to see it."

  "Leo, I can explain," she began, her voice barely a whisper. He raised a hand, stopping her with a gesture that spoke of both hurt and resolve. His gaze shifted, taking in the scene before him. First, it landed on Ariel, the receptionist he'd briefly met on his previous visit. Today, she sported a vibrant frog onesie and he made a mental note to compliment her later, the ingrained politeness a stark contrast to the turmoil within him.

  Then, his eyes settled on Sebastian. The boy, met Leo's gaze with a chillingly callous suspicion, his small frame radiating an aura of hardened resilience. It was the look of someone who had seen too much, too young. A hard life, Leo thought grimly, likely even harder after what he just overheard.

  "We'll discuss your explanations later," Leo said, his voice clipped and formal, a stark departure from his usual jovial tone. "First, tell me everything that happened." His tone brokered no argument.

  Since Sarah had been absent during the initial assault, Melissa stepped forward, recounting the harrowing events. She spoke of the sudden, brutal attack by the Cultists, their faces twisted in fanatic fervor.

  Then came the awkward explanation of the "tower," which, in reality, was the unassuming cottage. However, this wasn't Earth; this was a world where magic was as commonplace as the rustling of leaves, and the idea of a cottage masquerading as a fortified tower was met with a shrug and a murmured, "Well, that explains it."

  Melissa’s narrative reached its climax as she described their desperate attempts to breach Solus. The door, with no apparent loyalty to anyone but the master of the tower, had not only held the Cultists at bay but had also, with chilling efficiency, dispatched one of them. The image of the Cultist’s lifeless form, crumpled against the cottage’s threshold, lingered in the air. He had also denied Melissa entry which she made sure to mention.

  As she spoke, Sarah felt a surge of conflicting emotions. Horror at the attack, of course, but also a fierce pride in Solus. He had done exactly what he was designed to do. He had protected the tower, her tower. If it hadn't been for him… The thought made her shiver.

  When Melissa finished, Leo's gaze returned to Sarah. He was gracious enough to allow her a brief, word with Solus before they departed. Even in the face of the recent revelations, even knowing that she was a Necromancer, he still became slightly flustered in her presence. The ingrained awkwardness, the remnants of his cheesy charm, were a strange comfort in the midst of the chaos. As Sarah headed upstairs, she couldn't help but wonder what the future held, now that the carefully constructed facade of her life had crumbled.

  When Sarah reached Solus, the sentient door was radiating an aura of pique. His usually smooth, polished surface seemed to ripple with a subtle agitation.

  "Why was I not involved in the group hug?" The question, spoken in a low, resonant voice that seemed to emanate from the very wood itself, hung in the air. His awkward nature, usually a source of amusement for Sarah, now left her genuinely puzzled.

  Firstly, how could a door, even a magically animated one, participate in a hug? Secondly, and perhaps more disturbingly, how had he even seen it happen? The heartwarming embrace shared with Ariel, Sebastian, and Melissa had taken place downstairs in the bustling reception area. Solus, on the other hand, resided on the top floor, a silent sentinel guarding the master suite. The logistics of his observation were baffling.

  "Before that," Sarah began, trying to steer the conversation away from the hug, "well done, Solus. Honestly. Melissa told me how you defended my room. So, thank you. Thank you for being my guardian."

  Solus's wood, a rich mahogany, seemed to deepen in color, almost blushing. A low rumble echoed from within his frame before he began a series of surprisingly realistic coughs, muffled into a fist that materialized seemingly out of thin air.

  "Woah," Sarah exclaimed, genuinely shocked. "Since when could you do that?" This was the first display of non-lightning magic she'd witnessed coming from the door. The fist, crafted from the same dark wood as his frame, was almost as tall as she was. Intricate carvings of leaves and vines adorned its surface, giving it an almost lifelike quality.

  "I have always possessed this… Feature," Solus replied, a hint of pride lacing his voice. "It was merely… Dormant, awaiting the proper… Reactivation." He beamed, or at least Sarah interpreted the subtle shift in the wood grain as a beam. He was clearly delighted that more of his original, perhaps forgotten, functions were returning.

  "Is that how you saw what happened downstairs?" Sarah asked, her curiosity making leaps. The thought of Solus somehow projecting his consciousness or having some hidden surveillance system was both intriguing and slightly unnerving.

  Solus immediately clamped up again, the brief blush receding. He remained stubbornly silent, his previous enthusiasm replaced by a brooding stillness. It was obvious that the perceived slight of being excluded from the group hug still stung.

  "You're family too, you know," Sarah said softly, placing a hand on his cool, smooth frame. The mahogany beneath her fingers seemed to warm slightly, turning even redder than before as she placed her forehead against him. The floating fist, still hovering in the air, almost knocked her off balance as Solus broke into another coughing fit, this one seemingly more genuine and perhaps a little choked.

  "Don't worry," Sarah continued, sensing his discomfort. "I don't expect you to say anything back. I know you're not that way inclined. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you saving Melissa and protecting the tower. I don't know what I'd do without you." The atmosphere was thick with unspoken emotions.

  After a moment of comfortable silence, Sarah added, a determined glint in her eyes, "Now, I'm going to go and kill some people. Hopefully, Leo won't mind, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Keep them safe for me?"

  "Yes, Master," Solus replied, his voice strong and resonant, no longer disjointed or out of sync like an old, poorly dubbed movie. The earlier awkwardness had vanished, replaced by a renewed sense of duty. Sarah nodded, a small smile playing on her lips, and set off for the "Ale for All" Guild Hall. She hadn't been anywhere else recently where she'd caused a stir, so that seemed like the most logical place to start her… Inquiries.