7th of Ashan
711
(Aiden: age 14)
711
(Aiden: age 14)
With the swipe of Aiden’s arm, the Marrow collapsed once again into a useless pile of bones. The skull clattered down last, rolling off a splintered rib cage and drawing a macabre arc across the wooden floor.
“Good.” Tobias waved his hand. “Now, again.”
Aiden groaned softly, but he wearily complied. He flexed his fingers briefly, then folded them back into fists. The bone pile in the middle of Tobias’s parlor, rattled suddenly. And then, gradually, they began to reassemble themselves back into the shape of a person.
Nearby, Tobias leaned against his desk. He was thumbing through a book of arcane notes.
“You never answered me before.”
The youth rolled his eyes. Another one of Tobias’s cryptic conversation starters.
“Which time,” Aiden asked without enthusiasm.
“How did you ever come to learn about my professions?” Tobias wetted his thumb on the tip of his tongue and turned a page. “I am very thorough. The thought of a child stumbling upon certain facts of mine is… upsetting.”
A child? If Aiden wasn’t so tired, he’d be insulted. Perhaps he was only fourteen, nearly fifteen, but he hadn’t felt like a child in at least a year. Since his mother told him about the Yludih.
The Marrow stood tall, now fully assembled. It hung slightly to the side with an imperfect posture, as if hanging on a string. It chattered its teeth oddly, just as it had before. Aiden wasn’t sure what compelled it to do that, because it wasn’t him.
“Why do you work for them?” Aiden asked after a long pause. “The Shadow Quarter.”
Tobias lifted his head. It wasn’t the response he was looking for, but he seemed to be in a patient mood. After appearing to mull it over for a few bits, chewing thoughtfully on his tongue, he resigned to the question and looked back down at his book of notes.
“It’s complicated.” He turned a page. “To put it succinctly, I am indentured. It’s a forced contract.”
Aiden glanced back at him. He could only manage to take his attention off of the Marrow for a moment, so he quickly turned back to the thrall. There was no magic gesture or word to give command to the Marrow, but it helped him to wave his hands in certain ways. As he twisted his wrist, the Marrow began to pace the room.
“Why?” The skeleton ambled along slowly. Its bony feets struck the wooden floor in a way that reminded Aiden of hoofbeats. “What do you owe them?”
“A blood debt. I took the life of one of theirs.”
Aiden felt a tremor flash through him like a bolt of lightning. The Marrow reacted more outwardly. It whirled around, leveling its dark, eyeless gaze at the elder necromancer.
“A woman?” Aiden asked softly.
Tobias smirked, working out quickly what Aiden was asking.
“No, it wasn’t.” He retained focus on his book. “It was a long time ago.”