The Journeys of a Different Necromancer by James J. Crofoot Page B

shun what they do not understand or things that
are different.”
    “ Was that the way it was with you when you first started
studying to be a necromancer?”
    “ People always thought me to be a little different. Look,
Thomas, you will see more, you will do more, than they can imagine
in their empty heads. You will learn to create life from
death.”
    Thomas thought about these words for some time. He wanted to
do more than just plant and harvest. He wanted to travel this
world, especially the sea to the west, to see more than just this
tiny village too small for a name. He decided he liked being
different. He was already learning more than they ever would. Did
not that make him better?
    * * *
*
    Then the day came when the rider from the prince arrived. The
army of Kross marched against the kingdom and the prince wanted
everyone to come to the capital city of Targon to defend it and
protect him. It caused uproar. “Why isn’t the prince defending our
homes and crops?” they wondered. Then the idea of Xavier defending
the village came to mind. The more they thought about this, the
more adamant they became. He must do something for them, they
allowed him to live so close, practicing his evil magic and putting
them in danger for all these years!
    The boys of the village approached Thomas first, catching him
on the way to the tower; four days after the message came. They
surrounded him.
    “ You and your master must do something to protect us, Tom,”
Spencer said.
    Thomas looked around apprehensively at the boys. Weren’t these
his friends? What had he done to deserve such hateful ways? Maybe
they were jealous. He learned to spell that word a few days
before.
    “ Why don’t you go to Targon, like the prince said?” he asked,
avoiding eye contact.
    “ We don’t want to leave our homes and lands. We’ve worked hard
for these crops ready to bring in. You expect us to just give them
to the soldiers of Kross?” Ronald asked. Ronald stood over him by a
foot and had three years on Thomas as well.
    “ I’ll ask Xavier if he can help, okay?”
    Ronald looked at him and smiled, a malicious spark in his eye.
Thomas knew that look, it meant trouble. Sure enough, Ronald pushed
him to the ground. “You’d better get that old man to help, or else
I might not be so nice next time.”
    The rest of the boys laughed.
    * * *
*
    “ They laughed at me, Xavier,” Thomas said. “They pushed me
down and laughed at me.” He picked a piece of gravel from the
scrape on his elbow and winced. “They want you to fight the army
that’s on the way for them.”
    Xavier watched his student being tender with the wounds and
started thinking of ways to punish the villagers for the outrage.
“People,” Xavier spat. “People are always wanting others to do
everything for them while they continue on with their selfish
lives. They should flee—go to the prince as instructed instead of
bothering us.”
    “ What will we do?” asked Thomas. “I can’t go home. Not right
now anyway.” He added the last words in a hurry.
    “ Do you see, boy? Do you see how jealous and lazy people
are?”
    “ Are you going to help them? It won’t sit well with them if
you say no. There is my mum and da, they’re not really that
bad.”
    Xavier grumbled and walked away.
    That night, outside the tower, a loud din could be heard
approaching. Then came the pounding on the ancient oak and iron
door.
    “ Come out, mage!” Thomas recognized the speaker as Ronald’s
father, Jim. He also used force, and his size, as his favorite way
of dealing with most situations. “Come down here and protect us.
You owe us for letting you live here. Open up or we’ll break down
this door of yours and burn this tower!”
    With anger burning in his eyes, Xavier opened the door. Thomas
thought he stood taller. “What is it you want from me? All I’ve
ever wanted was to be left alone. Now you come to my home and
threaten me. What have I ever done to any of you?”
    Jim stepped