Welcome to my castle. It is a castle, well it’s my castle, although I know it isn’t a real castle, just a very big house. Castles were bigger, grander and had gargoyles or something extravagant like that. I really need to get some gargoyles but I am way too busy with the dead. It’s not easy to be a necromancer in this day and age. It used to be easy. There wasn’t much need of necromancers just twenty years ago but now the phone rings off the hook. It’s how I can afford the big house, my castle, but it doesn’t leave much time over for decorating, having a family or hire good help.
You see, people are dying. They are dying from all kinds of filthy decease, plagues and catastrophes they brought upon themselves.
And I keep them living. It’s not the same, obviously but it’s life, none the less. They flock to me, people of all shapes and sizes begging me to revive them when the time comes. When they die in whatever illness it is that ails them, because obviously I can’t do it before it happens, I’m there to save the day. I keep track and some days are worse than others.
It all has to be done on the same day that they die so you need to be prepared, the spells need to be prepared, all the ingredients found. I dread the day I won’t be able to find any more dandelion. The next wild one I find I need to pick with roots so I can grow it in my backyard. I have a big backyard that’s already filled with herbs, flowers and ingredients I need in my “medicines” but I never thought I’d run out of dandelions as might become the case.
Of course my gardener kicked the bucket. I should have seen it coming, he was eighty-seven going on his third round. He had some severe ticks and had lost the ability to speak but he was a great gardener. I lost him this time around though, had thirty cases the day he died and it was too late to attempt a revival.
And good gardeners are hard to come by.
The job is still good though. I won’t complain. I go there. I throw the mixture on the body. The mixture is personal for each individual, of course, but only slightly. Then I wait for them to get up. I imprint them with their tasks, basically I tell them to continue living their lives and then I’m on my way. Of course I sometimes throw in a trick or two, a guy gets lonely otherwise.
And then, of course, I check for defects. They all have defects, but some are bigger than others. Some come back completely bonkers and you can’t do much about that but send them back. You’d think that the bad ones came back bad and the good ones came back good but that’s not the case. Dying seems to affect people in different ways, some jumped right back into death as if they found something profound there and didn’t want to let it go. Other’s come back with a rich appetite for life again and again. Humanity is like that, different but same and those who are left have a lust for life, so to speak.
I need to find time to go on a vacation though but it’s hard. There is just one of me and so many of them. And there is no one who can do the job but me, because they’ve all gone through the cycle at least ones.
Of course I’m a rich man. I can afford the castle and the gargoyles. I just don’t have the time because as it is I loose more and more people each day.
That’s a lot of people in a year. I have a staff, a house full of people that I will make sure will stay with me. Because even though they become dumber and dumber with each time they go through the process, I don’t like the prospect of being alone in the universe.
You see all the years accumulate, for each client I keep alive I get a year on mine. It’s in the deal, as you know, and by now the years have gathered.
The years become empty as the clients deteriorate and in the end they’re not worth keeping alive but lets face it, life wouldn’t be much fun without other people in it. Life for life, it’s a fair deal, don’t you agree? Or would you rather die?