Legacies Necromancer Actor Novels & Stories

// A/N: *mes pattes* is cajun slang for " my paws, or feet" BIG ANNOUNCMENT! Legacy is now available on multiple platforms, I will leave details on my Facebook page @facebook.com/danger.beanz.3 Happy Reading <3

Big and dangerous that will no doubt have grave consequences for us all. Especially the one who has hired us all to this Facility. He is mad with a desire for eternal life. He has mages visit us sometimes to do different experiments on the Subject. What they do to him is beyond me. It sometimes appears back in its room with strange black markings on its body. After a few days though; the markings just disappear. This place fills me with dread, and I don’t know how much longer I can continue to work for these kinds of people. The work here greatly tests one’s faith in God.

Everyone, except me. "He was a friend, a husband, a father," Dad continued. "And a necromancer of priceless ability. Caleb Manser, the sixty third Head of the Manser Family, will forever be looked upon as an Elder of our Quadriad, and a great man. May the Great Ones take care of his soul."

Or worse, had he been complicit until it was too late? --- The firelight flickered faintly across the room, casting long shadows that seemed to shift and move. Adrian’s voice echoed in my mind, steady and unyielding: You’re not responsible for the choices Victor made. But you are the one who can change the legacy he left behind. As much as I wanted to believe him, the truth was murkier. I wasn’t just fighting Marcus and Victoria anymore—I was fighting the ghost of Victor Callahan, the weight of his sins tethering me to a battle I hadn’t asked for.

"He’s suggesting we kill the god and leave the city to the mortals. Are you in, or is the old CEO still worried about his legacy?" Lucien let out a dry, humorless laugh, pacing back toward the center of the damp, cavernous space. "My legacy was a spreadsheet that liquidated ten thousand lives to save a quarter of profit. I think I’m done with legacies, Arthur. I’m interested in results." "Then we move," Arthur said, standing up and pulling Kael to his feet. "Kael, can you walk?" Kael pushed off the wall, stumbling slightly before finding his center. "I can walk. But I’ll need you to keep the interface steady. If the connection wobbles, the feedback will snap back to me."

It was the tomb of a Necromancer called the Necraus. Logically speaking, if it had been any other Wind Demon, he or she would have been unable to accept the legacy of the Necromancer. This wasn’t because Wind Demons were proud and refused to rely on another source of strength. Anyone who knew even a little bit about this race would know that statement was absolute garbage; for Wind Demons did whatever it took to grow stronger, even if that meant consuming their own! The reason why any other Wind Demon would have failed to inherit the legacy of the Necromancer was because of their physique.

"By the time you find him… it'll already be the end." "How do you know it's him?" I asked. Something felt very wrong. I had never told her about Alaric. I did not understand why she was saying all that, but her words threw my mind into chaos again. "Alaric is no good. He's actually a necromancer from the neighboring village. Your father paid a tremendous price to buy materials from him to preserve the body. "That stuff… is refined from the dead." My breathing hitched. She kept going.

I looked at him. ​"I have to do this, Alaric. For my father." ​"I know," he said. ​He walked to the wall and pressed his thumb against a scanner. The heavy locks on the penthouse door clicked open. ​"Run along, little ghost," he said. His voice was cold again. The man from last night was gone. "Go play your game. Let’s see who wins." ​I didn't wait. I ran. ​ The First Symptom

“I was born with magic long before Delaney ever knew. Before the Warrens ever suspected. Before the Hallow ever whispered your name.” My breath catches. Magic. Brad had magic. All these years… and no one knew. He lifts his hand, and a faint ember glows in his palm, not warm, not comforting, but sharp and hungry. “I am a necromancer, Jason. One of the last. One who is reborn through fire.” My stomach twists. Fire. Cremation. Reborn. “You’re lying,” I whisper.

"That's really interesting then. The 'heir' that Martin longed for so much that he was willing to kill his fiancee turns out to be… mixed-race?" "I didn't do it!" Lilian had a complete emotional breakdown at that. She grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at me. "So what if the child is different than usual? That's still top-tier genetics! It's a hundred times better than a woman like you who can't have children!" Her words silenced the entire room. Martin's parents stood frozen in place as if struck by lightning. Top-tier genetics? That phrase felt so familiar. Suddenly, I recalled something. That once-in-a-century, top-tier genetics from the Almoran tribal chief that was worth 200 mil