Heather the Necromancer

The sun raced across the sky to stop low on the horizon streaking the clouds with orange and reds. Just as Heather looked on, amazed, they walked over the last hill to reveal the gates of the graveyard.

“Are you sure you don't want to go to the city?” Frank asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Yes, I am sure, now stop asking!” Heather groaned. She looked away from her panel, unable to think about choices anymore. “This is so hard. I have never done anything like this before, and there are a million options. How am I supposed to know what I want to play?”

“Try something out,” Frank suggested.

“Try something?” she repeated with a raised brow.

“Yeah, as a chosen you can change your class until you reach the third level. You can change your race until you reach the fifth level.”

“I can?” Heather asked with an arching brow. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“You didn’t ask,” he replied.

“You knew I was struggling to make up my mind!” she shouted. “I thought I had to make all the right choices, or I was stuck!”

“Well, now you know,” he shrugged. “So what do you want to try out?”

She looked back at the glowing screen and let out a frustrated sigh. “So I can be anything I want for a little bit.” She tapped away, making her choices, and smiled as the screen showed her selections. She went to the body sliders next and made a few “adjustments.”

“A little more up there,” she said to herself. “A little thinner here, some green eyes. Oh! I can make them glow!”

“What are you picking?” Frank pried as they reached the gates.

“You will see in a minute,” she replied.

Frank sighed and walked into the graveyard as coils of mist started to form over the ground. He paused to look around the yard, scratching at his head as he considered a new problem.

“I suppose you can sleep in the crypt. That way, the skeletons won't bother you,” he mumbled.

“Can't I build a house or something?” she asked.

“In the graveyard?”

Heather shrugged. “It can be a spooky house. I will put a pumpkin on the doorstep or something.”

“This isn't Halloween,” he protested. “If I had more points, I could put in a caretaker's shack with a basic bed, but I don't have enough.”

“I am sure we will find something to sleep on,” she said as she went back to her screen. “Hmm, I always wanted to be tall.” She finished her picks and held the panel out to admire the image it showed. “So how do I become this?” Heather asked, anxious to try on her new self.

“There should be a submit button,” Frank said. “There was one in the collection center when I designed my character.”

Heather studied the screen a moment and smiled at the bright blue button. With a tingle of excitement, she pressed it. A cloud of green smoke engulfed her but quickly faded away, revealing her new form. She twisted every which way to look at herself and practically danced with glee.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Frank looked her up and down, his eyes wide in shock. She was now over seven feet tall with long green hair and golden skin. Two thin silver antenna sprang from her head that ended in delicate glowing tips. Her ruby green eyes were unnaturally large and shimmered with an inner light. Her face was delicate, with silver lips and blue spots on her cheeks. She was thin as a rail but strangely well endowed in the chest. Her legs were long and slender, with bare feet floating an inch off the ground. She wore a gown that could only be described as flower petals woven into a mosaic of white, blue, and green.

“What on earth is that?” Frank asked.contemporary romance

“It’s a golden sprite,” Heather replied with a cheery voice that sounded musical.

“A sprite?” he grunted as if the name was offensive.

“Yes,” Heather said with a concerned glance. “Is that bad?”

“You picked a nature spirit. A spirit of growth and rebirth to live in a graveyard?”

“It doesn't have to be a dismal graveyard. Look what I can do,” Heather said as she bent over. She cupped her hands and blew into them, creating a swirl of glittering green light. It blew out over the nearest graves, instantly causing vines to grow over the stones. The vines grew with a magical speed as bursts of gold and green sparkles danced along the ground. Frank watched in horror as they bloomed with brightly colored flowers decorating the stones. Heather clapped her hands and bounced in the air to see the change.

“What are you doing?” Frank moaned. “This is a graveyard, not a garden.”

“Can’t it be both?” Heather asked.

“No, graveyards are supposed to be dark and spooky,” he protested. “You're making everything all green and glittery like some kind of flower shop.”

“You're exaggerating,” she protested. “I only changed a few graves.”

“Look under your feet!” he yelled with a pointed finger.

Heather looked down to see the grass below her feet had grown and was full of tiny blue flowers that sparkled in the evening light. She moved away to see she left a trail of blue sparkles where she went. Wherever the sparkles settled, flowers and grass grew abundantly.

“Oh,” she said with a downcast face. “But this race is so pretty!”

“What class did you pick with it?” Frank asked.

“Flower singer,” she replied.

“What is a flower singer?”

“I can make plants dance and bloom flowers. I can attract songbirds and butterflies and grow food.”

“In a graveyard,” Frank repeated with a dry voice as he crossed his arms.

“What's wrong with that?” she asked. “I have seen lots of flowers in graveyards!”

“This is a haunted graveyard full of undead, and you want to add butterflies to it?”

“Fine,” she quipped. “I will pick a mundane class that allows me to build a garden and make one on the hill.” She threw her chin in the air as if she had defeated him.

Frank sighed and put a hand over his face. “Just don’t put it right up against my fence.”

“You could use some flowers. This place stinks,” she said. “It smells like ah… Like umm…”

“Like a graveyard?” he filled in for her.

“Whatever,” she growled with a frustrated wave. “I am going to build a flower house and sing to the birds.”

“Can you sing?” he asked.

“Of course I can,” she said with a haughty tone. “I mean, I have never tried before, but I am sure I can do it.”

Frank shook his head and looked to the sky. “Well, you either need to build your flower house or come down into the tunnels.”

“I don’t know how to build things yet,” she protested. “Besides, why can’t I stay out here?”

“There are rare monsters that spawn at night and stalk players. You’re welcome to say in the graveyard but don’t leave the gates,” he explained.

Heather looked out of the yard to the hills of green and let out a sigh. “I will come inside.”

Frank led the way to a mausoleum and casually walked through the narrow doorway. Heather frowned as she realized she was too tall for the entrance and found it difficult to bend over while floating. She had to settle on the ground so that she could duck under the door and get inside. Once inside the cramped space, she found it even more challenging to navigate the stairs. Her long slender body put her face into the ceiling, forcing her to climb down them backward so she could use her hands. Frank watched her struggle to get into the lower tunnel, shaking his head the whole way.

“You need to pick another race that fits in the tunnels,” he said as she finally managed to arrive.

“Why did you make them so small?” Heather protested and stood up, nearly bumping her head on the ceiling.

“I didn't make them small. I made them for human-sized players. I wasn't expecting somebody as tall as a tree to try and climb down here.”

“Just so you know, I happen to have tree-related powers. I can walk on leaves like they are solid ground,” she said.

“The trees in the graveyard don’t have any leaves,” he pointed out.

She tried to walk across the room to discover her antennae scraped the ceiling. A shower of dirt and dust rained from above every time she moved her head.

“It’s dirty in here!” she cried as more dirt fell in her eyes.

“Just pick something else,” Frank suggested. “Something that fits in the tunnels.”

“But I like this!” she cried.

“I bet there is a way to save your settings. Save it and try something smaller that fits in the tunnels.”

She sneezed from the dust and lifted the panel, and began to make choices.

“I am going to go check the other rooms while you pick,” he said. “I want to make sure nobody has been here.”

She looked up from the panel in alarm. “Will I be safe?”

He nodded. “The skeletons don’t come down here. You will be fine so long as you stay in the tunnels.”

She nodded, producing a hail of dirt as he wandered off, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.

Heather blinked the dust from her eyes and stared at the panel. “I wonder what I should be?” She took a few minutes to flip through the choices and returned to one that made her chew on a lower lip. “What harm is there in trying it?” she giggled. “It's not like I have to feed tonight.” She eagerly set about making her choices, giggling the whole time. With a press of the submit button, she was engulfed in a cloud of dark smoke.

“Now this feels strange,” she said in a sultry voice as she looked at herself. “Is this the only clothing option?” She went back to her panel and flipped through the various states of nakedness she could pick. Time slipped away as the choices went by while she paced the room, swishing her tail.

“What are you playing?” Frank called in alarm. She turned to see him standing in the archway of the tunnel staring at her with a stunned look. She practically dropped her panel in shock and fumbled to get hold of it.

“Don’t look at me!” she shouted and used the panel to cover her chest.

“Is that a succubus?”

“Get out of here!” she shouted as her face went redder than her skin already was.

“I like the tail.”

“Out!” she shouted as loudly as she could while pointing for the hallway.

Frank threw up his hands and went back down the tunnel.

“Don’t come back until I call you!” she shouted after him. She quickly went back to the panel and picked anything that wasn't what she currently was. In a flash of smoke, she sighed with contentment to see her chest was fully covered. With a moment to settle herself and let the embarrassment pass, she called for Frank.

“You can come back now,” she said.

His head poked from around the archway. “You're dressed now?”

“I was dressed before,” she said in embarrassment. “It was just a lot less clothing.”

“Some of the skeletons have more clothing on their belts than you had on your whole body.”

“I was just trying it out. I wasn't going to pick it,” she said, embarrassed. “I thought you said you were going to check the other rooms?”

“I did. My graveyard isn't very big. There are only two more rooms,” he replied and stepped into the chamber. “You can play that race if you want. Lots of people do.”

“I am not playing it,” Heather insisted while pacing in frustration as she clutched the panel.

Frank stepped closer, scratching at his head with a long finger. “Are you going to pick this?”

“What’s wrong with this?” Heather asked as she turned to face him.

“You look like a horse,” he said with an odd expression.

Heather looked down at herself and saw her chest and two arms, but she noticed her feet were two black hooves. With a jump, she looked behind to see an elongated body with two more legs and a long tail.

“I think that’s a centaur,” Frank offered.

“Eeeeee!” Heather screamed as she fumbled with the panel, desperate to change it. She raced through her saved characters and clicked the Golden sprite again. In a poof, her head hit the ceiling in a shower of dust and dirt. “I hate this world!” she cried as she ducked to rub her head.

“Why don't you sit down and take your time to find something,” he suggested. “If you like the sprite, you can change back to it tomorrow and build a house you will fit inside of.”

“I just wanted to look pretty,” Heather said as she struggled to sit.

“Everybody does,” Frank sighed and walked to the stairs. He sat down on a step and folded his legs as his shoulders sank.

Heather took note of the behavior and realized her remark wounded him. He was alone and lonely because he chose a monster class that wasn’t pretty enough to live in the city. He was an outcast in a world designed to be a social hub. He even admitted twice now he was lonely because nobody wanted to play with an ugly ghoul.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I keep saying things I don’t mean.”

“You want to play something pretty. That isn't a crime.”

She stood up and stepped forward, scraping her head on the ceiling. In frustration, she glared at the panel and pushed the rest button. In a puff, she was herself again and never so grateful to be just who she was.

“Frank, even if I pick something pretty, I will build nearby so we can be friends,” she said.

“You don’t have to,” he sighed.

“No, I don't, but I want to,” she insisted. “You're a nice guy, and you helped me get my panel back. I don't like it that other people mistreat you, and I don’t want you to be alone.”

“It would be ok if there were more monster players. The world is so unbalanced with the hero players,” he said. “It would be more fun if the heroes had a challenge for a change.”

She walked closer to the stairs and looked around the featureless stone room.

“Why is it so empty in here?”

“I haven't spent any points on dungeon features. I am saving up for a dungeon heart.”

She remembered his description of what that was and understood why he would be saving up for it. He was so eager to build, a trait she rather admired, but she had to wonder.

“Frank, what level are you?”

“I’m level five,” he replied with sunken shoulders.

She had no idea if that was good or bad, but his body language suggested the latter.

“So how long until you can get a dungeon heart?”

“Ten more levels,” he sighed. “I am leveling up so slowly.”

“Because nobody comes out here,” Heather surmised.

He nodded and looked away. “If I had a bigger graveyard, it would attract people. But I can't get bigger unless people come.”

She saw the problem and pondered a solution. “What if I went to the city and told people about your graveyard? They might come out here to play”

Frank shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What would help you the most?” Heather asked.

“More levels,” he said with a glance at her. “But to do that, people need to play here.”

“Doesn’t anybody ever play here? You are near the spawns,” she pointed out.

“I get a new player now and then, but it takes a long time. A lot of players don't notice the graveyard and walk right by.”

She paced about tapping at the panel irritably. He needed a way to direct players to the graveyard and let them know it was a place to play. “What if we put up a sign?”

“A sign?”

“Yeah, a sign that says adventure here, or haunted graveyard this way,” she suggested.

He shrugged dismissively and went back to staring at the ground. Heather noted the gesture and felt a pang of anger at how defeated he was. She realized he was more in hiding than trying to be noticed, afraid of players taking away what little he had. While she understood his point of view, she saw it another way, that he had nothing to lose.

“If you need are people to adventure here, then you need to think of a way to bring them here,” she insisted.

“I should have made my graveyard on the path instead of on the other side of the hill,” he said. “Then, more people would see it.”

“Can you move it?” she asked.

“I can move it, but I lose the few points I got from sacrificing treasure. I will only keep the points I get from leveling,” he replied.

Heather took his explanation in and began to pace, thinking of a solution. “Then what you need is a sigh and a path leading right to your gates.”

“How will I do that?” Frank asked.

Heather smiled and looked down at her panel. “I think I know a way to make a path.”

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