The life of your everyday Necromancer

Chapter One

The brisk air burned with every inhale, as he calmly considered the early morning sun gracing the dew-covered grass. Every now and then, a cloud would cover the sun, as though greeting a friend, before allowing its rays to dance amongst the leaves once more. It was a picturesque morning, and he was spending it in one of his favorite places in the entire city.

    The cemetery. It was almost always quiet, and anyone else who came here left him to himself. They always assumed he was mourning the loss of a loved one. In a way, he supposed, he was. The difference was that his loved one was very much amongst the living, and he felt no sadness over the death of who's grave he stood before now.

    No, he didn't regret their death under any circumstances. What he regretted was what had followed. The snowball of events that left him completely alone, shunned by the community he was most at home with.

    He would always remember the fear in those brown depths, tears peeking around the edges as his most precious person begged him to leave. Pleaded for him to not hurt them, as though that had ever been an option.

    It wasn't. He would never dream of harming any of his loved ones. Yes, he knew to call them that now, but it was too late. The most he could do was quietly remove himself from all of their lives. If his presence hurt them, in any way, then he would exile himself. And, he did so, much more effectively than that old coot had ever accomplished.

    That was another regret he held. Without his loved ones, he simply lost all motivation to stand against him. To show all of wizarding kind exactly the type of man they were following.

    Perhaps if he were an average child, none of this would ever have happened. If he hadn't been marked since birth, he could've been happy. He could've understood how other humans thought, how emotions worked even. If Death had not chosen him as the toy with which the ethereal being would alleviate his boredom, he would not be so alone.

    But, he was never truly alone. Of course not. After all, how would Death play with his new toy if he were left to himself.

    "You're being a bit dramatic, aren't you, Hades?" He turned to face his constant companion, giving him a flat look. He considered Death before responding. Death held a tall figure, in his human form at least. He could change his appearance at will, but often maintained a lean build, with dark dreadlocks, precious metals and gemstones braided into the strands. His umber skin was flawless, and his golden eyes pierced your very soul, literally. If you looked close enough, and you were allowed close enough without being decimated to a pile of ash, you could see silver specks amongst the gold. He had thick, always smirking, lips that opened to reveal perfectly straight, and blindingly white, teeth. Hadrian finally replied, eyeing Deaths usual black Zegna suit.

    "Coming from you? I don't think so." Hadrian made sure to mutter his words as quietly as possible. It wouldn't be the first time a stranger caught him speaking to Death. Unfortunately, few people were deemed worthy of seeing even Death's human form. Lucky him.

    Death smirked, eyes gleaming with pride, probably due to Hadrian recognizing the brand of his suit. It had taken years to make Hadrian remember something he didn't care about.

    It would be so much easier if Death didn't refuse to answer him when he didn't speak aloud. Apparently, if mortals were worth the energy of speaking, so was he. Hadrian gave up explaining to Death that most humans weren't worth the energy.

    "Well, you will not be so alone in but a moment." Death informed, glancing over Hadrian's shoulder, towards the entrance of the cemetery.

    It was simple enough to seem surprised when a hand tentatively landed on his shoulder, he'd had lots of practice over the years. "H-hadrian? Hadrian Lloyd?" A soft feminine voice greeted his ears. He turned to her, not giving her a smile. It was already taking too much of his focus to not glare at her. His resting face wasn't exactly the friendliest.

    Perhaps he should have tried harder, he thought as he saw the woman recoil slightly. She was a petite woman, with sunkissed skin that was rare to find in this area. She seemed to be in her late teens, maybe nineteen. Her hair was dyed violet, though her mousy brown roots were slightly showing. Her lips gave a slight pout, and her eyes, a deep blue, were wide enough that she would always seem slightly surprised. It was as he gave her a once over that he finally registered the soft tingling her touch had left on his shoulder. This was no sleeper, that was for sure. She had magic, enough that it gravitated towards other sources of magic. She probably hadn't been trained well enough to reign it in, not everyone had been trained by Death after all.. Unless, she wanted him to know of her magic? He nodded in reply, not yet deeming her important enough to speak.

    At his nod she seemed to straighten her posture. She transformed from a meek cautiousness to a confident determination. "I need your help."

    "Not interested." He stated, turning to walk away. Her next sentence was enough to stall the twenty year old.

    "Charlie sent me."