Read The Lone Necromancer Novels & Stories

“I’ve already paid.” I tossed a bundle onto the ground. The cloth unfurled, revealing strands of silver hair, darkened with blood. Amara’s blood. The Necromancer crouched, his gloved hand brushing over the offering. His head tilted, listening to the memory bound within the strands. “The same blood,” he murmured. “Two vessels. Two mirrors.” “Balance,” I breathed. “Her light, my darkness.” The river swelled at my words, churning louder.

As if noticing my curious glances, Lucan leaned closer and explained, “That’s a Graveborn. They call themselves Necromancers.” I frowned, studying the man in question. At first glance, he looked human but the details betrayed him. His eyes glowed a deep crimson, and when he spoke, sharp fangs flashed briefly. I would’ve taken him for a vampire, but his skin wasn’t pale like the ones I’d met before; instead, it held a faint gray tint, like ash brought to life.

“The Unnamed realises the inferiority of our chaos shards, a true shard is infinitely more powerful.” The cloak grew over the mask again, as the masks stopped rotating, the mask in front being one screaming in agony. “Its time the Unnamed became serious then.” A small portal opened and a book floated out. It was old, with inscriptions everywhere. The book opened on its own, and a red glow came from within. “Seventh Chapter of the Necronomion: Judgement of the Dark gods.”

'Book forty-three of the Kingsmen Chronicles. He leaned the book back towards him and pulled it from the shelf with grace. He smiled as he looked at it in his hand, his eyes carefully considering the intricate pattern of the gold decorating the cover. Gingerly, he cracked it open, leading through the pages until at last he found the desired portion. "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not laid hold of it," he read aloud, proclaiming the fate of the nations.

I barely make a sound but just to be sure, I also activated a spell that will ensure he won’t be able to smell or sense me. At the bottom of the grand staircase, he turns right, toward the old museum annex I’d once helped design. It’s filled with relics and curiosities: swords, banners, magical artifacts, even a petrified lycan’s paw. But he doesn’t seem interested in any of those. Instead, he kneels on a display rug and removes it, showing a thick, iron-banded trapdoor that leads to the basement. He then unlocks it with a key hanging from his necklace.

Ava's POV: I picked out a thick leather bound book from the shelf. Its black rough surface was covered with dust. Wiping it with my palm, I looked at the title. Senex Animarum. Once again, I felt the frustration gripping my insides. Every single book in this place was filled with a language I didn't know. I should've taken French this semester. But this language looked nowhere near French. I opened the book and looked at the worn out dust-filled pages. There were diagrams. And foreign words.

I smiled and then watched her walk out of my room, closing the door behind her. Alone in my room once more, I opened my hand, holding the drive. With my hand flat, my palm facing up, I smiled at how small it looked. Whatever was on here, hopefully, it would be big enough to make a difference in bringing Blackwood back to its former glory and finding out the truth.

Chloe says bitterly, unsure but desperate, her voice breaking. They fall into a tense silence, the ticking of the clock in the corner the only sound between them. Chloe’s mind races as she zones out momentarily, focusing on the grimoires strewn across the floor, pages opened to the spell in question. The ancient symbols and markings are a jumbled mess to anyone unfamiliar with the language, but to her, they are as clear as day. She kneels down, fingers brushing the ink—wrist veins opens pouring out her blood on the pages where the spell lies in the opened grimoire as she begins to read aloud. the words sharp and biting, as if they were never meant for human tongues.

I felt the itch on my body but I didn’t experience shifting during the blood moon. I finally found Alarick, who was still drinking his beer. “Alarick.” I tapped his shoulders as he is now immersed in the moon’s energy. “What is it?” I saw his eyes turn from bloody red to silver. He is absorbing the power of the moon. “Y-you need to see this.” I led the way and started running back to the cell. When both of us entered the dungeon, I immediately opened the door and was confused by what I saw. “Is that?”

But, as if a switch had been flicked, the scene burst into chaos as howls began to echo off the wall of trees and building behind them until an evocative chorus rose up, becoming louder and louder. If anyone ever asked Lucas to explain what he had witnessed that night, he would admit he had no words for it. Where once human bodies lay wrestling with the throws of their first shift, were now wolves with their thick coats gleaming in the ethereal light of the moon. And in the middle of it all stood Hecate, her blue and gold eyes never leaving Lucas even as her friends crowded her with excited nuzzling and licks of affection. What are you, Chloe? Lucas found himself asking for what felt like th