1
Vexx White
Vexx felt a lump in his throat as he avoided a deep rut in the dirt road. It had been quite some time since he’d last left Cloudbury, and he couldn’t help but reflect on the occasion. He’d stood tall back then, as tall as any twelve-year-old could have, anyway, no doubt looking as proud and arrogant and ambitious as he knew he’d been. As he still was, for that matter, even if his dreams had all been reduced to dust.
They were fools to expel me. Fools! Besides, the best necromancy requires only the freshest of corpses. What kind of magical academy is built next to a cemetery but also forbids black magic? That’s practically entrapment.
His hands fumbled at his sides, his pale skin a stark contrast against his black apprentice’s robes. After a moment, they settled uncomfortably into his pockets. They’d left him the clothes on his back, at least, even though they’d taken everything else. He had a few coppers in there, along with a finger bone the administrators hadn’t noticed, but he doubted any of that would get him more than the simplest of meals.
Still, Dred Wyrm started with less, and look at him now! The most renowned dungeoneer there is.
Vexx came to an uncertain halt, suddenly realizing that he had walked through all of Cloudbury, his hometown now strange to him. Still, there was no mistaking the house where he’d grown up. The way the grass grew wild, the way the straw ceiling sloped, the gaps in the…windows…
Vexx squinted. Hang on. What’s happened to it?
Without thinking, he burst forward, leaping up the slope and up to the ancient wooden door. He put his hand on the bronze handle and pushed it open, ducking his head to fold his lanky frame through the doorway.
“Father, I have re-” he trailed off, taking in the cobwebs in the corners, the dusty table with a few letters on it. He numbly walked over, glancing into the corners, but there was no sign of life. Vexx’s heart was already sinking. His father would not have let the house fall into this state of disrepair. Not that cantankerous old coot. No, not the old man who had Vexx scrubbing all day and all night any time it looked like he’d tracked in a few stray specks of mud.
Vexx rummaged through the scrolls sitting on the table, opening a few at random, quickly scanning through them. Messages from the town council, something about non-payment of taxes, a death certificate…
Vexx’s vision blurred as he stared at the words. Adelius White, dead of exposure following the late storms. Surely someone would have sent a message to the Magical Academy at Fallanden...he blinked away the unexpected moisture in his eyes.
Eventually, he managed to wade through the paperwork, his surprise fading to grim resignation. From what he could piece together, following his father’s death, the house had been taken for non-payment of taxes and subsequently sold. And clutched in his hands was the one scroll that bore Vexx White’s own name.
“To the heir of the Adelius White estate, Vexx White, is due a share of the house’s proceeds. If the heir presents this scroll at the town council building on 14 Marionberry Lane, Cloudbury, he or she will receive—”
Vexx folded it up before looking at the sum and stuffed it in his apprentice robe’s voluminous pocket. Somehow, he didn’t feel like spending another minute in this place.
“Well,” Vexx said in the dismal silence, rising from his chair. “No time like the present.”
Vexx dusted himself off and strode purposefully towards the door. He left without a backward glance.
2
The Proceeds
Like most towns in Ilor, the economy of Cloudbury depended on the large forest growing around the Lifeless Hills. Vexx passed a band of foresters trudging along the street, large axes resting on their shoulders. A few men in their early twenties looked his way in idle curiosity and Vexx stared back despite himself, wondering if he could recognize any of them from his childhood. They were about the same age, after all, though he’d been saved from that fate by admittance to the Fallanden Magical Academy.
Or so I thought. What’s there for me now?
The council building wasn’t far away, a rickety old building that slumped to the side as if it had been shoved off its foundation by a group of trolls. It bore the grime and half-rotted wood that was standard for older buildings in Cloudbury. The town was a sad, provincial place, which was a fact that Vexx White had never quite realized until he’d left to attend the Academy in the bustling city of Fallanden.
It wasn’t as though he’d travelled much, of course. He’d been all but confined behind the academy’s walls. And then, when he had been expelled, Vexx hadn’t had any reason to go anywhere else but home.
And now, there wasn’t even a home for him anymore.
Vexx pressed open the rickety door and stood uncertainly in the dim interior. A white-haired woman handed over a sheaf of documents to a well-dressed man at a counter.
“Next,” she said, as the man left with his bundle of documents. Vexx scanned the empty room, and after a moment, he approached the clerk.
“Um, Vexx White. I understand my father Adelius White had his house seized after he passed away.”
“Oh yes,” the woman said, squinting up at him. “You must be the son. I knew Adelius, actually.”
“Oh? How was the funeral?”
“I didn’t go,” she replied, sliding out a drawer in her ancient wooden desk. “Adelius was a bastard, and I was glad to see him dead. Now, here we are.” She unfurled the scroll on her desk, then tossed a small sack of coins beside it. “Your share of the proceeds. You attended the Magical Academy, correct? Then I take it you can spell,” she said, tapping an inkwell on her desk.
Vexx smiled. “I know all sorts of spells.”
She shot him an exasperated look.
“Ah, and I know how to spell,” he added, picking up the quill resting beside the inkwell.
“You have your father’s sense of humor. Just sign here, here, and here.”
Vexx scribbled away, then finally set the quill down. “What now?”
“Now?” The clerk slid the coins over to him. “That’s for you to decide, young man. But your father’s former house is now the property of the town council. Keep out of it.” She paused, her expression softening almost imperceptibly. “If you’re looking for work, some of the farmers could use a hand. Perhaps a logging company will take you on as an apprentice.” She shrugged.
Vexx grimaced before nodding silently and scooping up the small bag of coins. His mind was a whirl of confused emotions.
What should I do now?
3
Vexx and Kaylin
He stood uncertainly before the small grave marked with the simple carved words: Adelius White, Devoted Husband and Father. Vexx glanced left and right.
A short chat wouldn’t hurt, would it? But it isn’t as though I’ve mastered the art of necromancy. Vexx’s hand raised a hair and he stood there, motionless. He shook his head and tucked his hand into his pocket.
“Rest in peace, Dad. Maybe we’ll talk later.”
The cemetery was a silent, peaceful place, and the orchard beside it blocked out the hustle and bustle of nearby Cloudbury. Vexx inhaled the pleasant aroma of the apple trees as he turned away from his father’s grave. He stared ahead, past the fence that encircled the cemetery. He had vaulted a fence very much like it several times before, paying midnight visits to a different cemetery, practicing the forbidden Black Arts.