To kill or not to kill, that is the question.

Anselm was right. A lot of my anger, fury and rage dissipated seeing the two of them scrape by on the few coins that were in the purse.

I didn't see or count how much was in the purse but if it could only manage to get a basket of fruit and vegetables then I doubt it would have gotten me anything good either.

However, within this setback, I see an opportunity. To learn and exploit the two. For whatever reason, they fear and revere the magic I possess. Perhaps because it could bring back the dead but that couldn't be it, they don't know Anselm is dead.

Either way, I have a plan. The house is shabby but it provides protection from the blistering sun, for now, I still have no other choice but to take what I get.

"Great Mage?"

"Hm?" Ah, I'd been silent too long, the woman begins to fear again. Looking at her I notice she is somewhat pretty; she has that brown long hair tied up in a braid and blue eyes that shone with something.

"Well, Elsa. Since you have nothing to give me-"

"I offer myself Great Mage!" she springs to her feet, that something in her eye burns even brighter. I'm caught off guard but reminded of the woman back at the market, I look to the boy and I see it too. There is something off, something different about these people. "The child doesn't matter my Lord. I will send him away while you have your way."

I cringe and step back, Anselm has the same shocked look I did. This is not what I meant.

"Elsa, I don't want you."

"Oh," she's downtrodden and I realize I've made a mistake. "Of course, my Lord, you would not want to sully your Greatness with a woman as lowly as I."

I groan and pinch my nose. Anselm snickers but finally comes in to save me, "What he means is, he does not mean to have a way with you like a harlot. He wishes something else from you, let him speak and you will find out."

Finally!

"Great, now Elsa, it's simple. I'm going to be staying with you and the boy, from now on you'll do what I say and do it right, Okay?" she makes a face like she's realizing a basket of fruit didn't equate life in servitude to a Warlock that came out of nowhere, "Don't worry, it won't be forever, only as long as I need to make back what I lost."

"There is no problem with this Great Mage. Serving you will bring great honour on my family and my race as well." Her pink lips dip and curl in a frown, "It's just that, we will not be able to serve you the way we should."

I raise a brow and glance at Anselm. He shrugs and says, "Explain."

"Well, in this village we are forbidden from tilling the soil so we cannot grow our own food. My husband died in a…dishonourable way and there are very few workplaces that will take me as a servant. I've been working for the Mayor, but he isn't the kindest Lord so we starve on ten coppers a week. We have no way of supporting you as well my Lord."

She shuffles in her filthy maid dress, its origin revealed as the Mayor's property. There's a Mayor. I'm already learning new things.

"That's fine, Elsa. A long as you provide me with clothing and shelter you would be repaying your debt." I wave her concerns away, in truth I never expected anyone to carry my weight for me. It seems food is still a concern, even more for them than it is for me. I'd need to get a job if I am to survive then.

"I still have what's left of my Husbands clothes," her voice hitches a bit, every time she mentions her dead spouse. "And if you can make do with my humble abode then please make yourself at home."

I nod and follow her as she picks up the basket and leads me to the shabby living room with one table and three chairs. "I will make this into a meal for us, Great Mage." She picks up some coal and stuffs it into the pockets of her dress and heads out of the house. Leaving myself, Anselm and the bewildered boy, Sem.

I take a seat at the table, the chair is wobbly with one leg is shorter than the rest. The boy doesn't look away though, he only switched targets, looking between me and floating Anselm.

"What do you think he's looking at?" Anselm asks.

I shrug, "The floating person in his home?"

"Or the supposed Great Mage in his home?"

"Hey! I am great. You said so yourself the first time I cast a spell on you."

He snorts, "Well yeah, until I discovered you were even wussier than I am. And your spells can't save anyone."

I shrug. That much is true. Necromancy isn't a school of magic that promotes life.

"What type of Mage are you?" Sem, the boy asks finally. His eyes settling on me yet he eyes Anselm with a bit of caution.

"Type?"

"Yes." Is all he says.

Right. The owner of this body was a Pyromancer before I switch to Necromancy. I hesitate to answer with the truth, I had a slight inkling that Necromancy wasn't the most celebrated type of magic.

"I am a powerful Mage." Is all I give hoping his attention will catch something else.

"Yes. But what type?"

I sigh, I guess medieval twelve-year-olds don't suffer from a short attention span.

"He is a Necromancer," my head whips to Anselm as he spilled the very beans I didn't want spilled, "He communes with the Dead and sometimes they follow him."

The boy gasps and snaps his fingers, a smile creeps on his sunken cheeks, "I thought so. That means you are a spirit?" he asks Anselm.

Anselm does a spin, although it isn't as flagrant as usual with the limited space, it serves its purpose. "Yes!"

"Great Mage." He calls, his voice is formal so I know he's about to ask me to do some magic. "Would it be possible to commune with my father?"

Before I can answer or even think about the request Anselm jumps in and asks, "Don't you have a diviner in this village?"

He frowns, because the question bothers him or because Anselm begins to fade away. He turns to me, expectant that I do something.

I shrug, "I can't keep spirits physical for long." I cast Summon Spirit and think about the spell. So far, I've levelled it up to the point that Anselm can stick around for up to six minutes with one cast. The spell doesn't cost much mana so by the time he starts fading I'd already regenerated the mana I used.

"But the mage is getting better at keeping me around for longer," Anselm says as he reappears.

"If only you would stop flying…" I mutter.

He ignores me and prompts Sem to answer his question.

"The diviner is under the Mayor. My father died in dishonour and we've lost many privileges, including our free pass at communing with him after his death."

Diviner? Free pass? I have a lot of questions piled up but I hold off on asking them, I can't come off ignorant.

Instead, I ask, "How exactly does someone die in dishonour?"

The room falls quiet, Anselm even stops floating and I know I asked the wrong question. Sem's eyes water but he holds it still, not letting it drop.

"Can you commune with my father for me, Great Mage?" his voice trembles and breaks at the sentence.

"I will try." I let mana flow through and pool in my eyes. They flare and I know they're glowing a green colour, "Sense Death." I mutter. The world changes and I look about the room but there isn't any new spirit around.

Sem stares up at me expectantly but Anselm holds a slight frown, he's known there aren't any spirit in here from the start. But for Sem's sake let me search anyway.

"There's nothing," I mutter as I end the spell, "I'm sorry."

"There's a chance he has moved on to the light of course." Anselm rushes to say.

"No, it's fine." He shakes his head. "Thank you for trying, Great Mage." He bows to me and leaves the living room, heading outside to presumable sulk or help his mother cook.

I turn to Anselm and level him a stare. "I have a lot of questions, but let's start with what the fuck is a diviner?"

***

There are a lot of questions that demand answers. I am wholly confused and lost in the depth of the world I find myself venturing further into, it's a lot bigger than the cave that's for sure.

I want to know who the Cult of Phien are, who the Following are as well as why people seemed to view them in reverence. Not that they don't deserve it, especially seeing as they saved my life but because I'm lost.

I want to know why the Mayor is a jerk and how people died dishonourably, although I wasn't seeking to ask that one outright again. I still feel uncomfortable from the last time I tried.

I want to know a lot and I hope I'll learn enough to pass off as a stranger from another continent and nothing more soon. That's why I'm starting with learning about the Diviners.

The Diviners seem to be the most common thing in the Kingdom, proof of this is the incredulous stare Anselm gives me when I confess my ignorance.

He calls them by several other names; Prophets, Priest of Sight, White-eyes. I get the general idea that they are some kind of fortune-tellers or psychics. But the role they play in society here is different from the one they play back home, seeing as their powers were legit.

I insist he tells me about them, more because they make their coin with the magical powers and I want tutoring in the art than because of anything else.

"Well, Diviners are...Diviners!" he huffs, still struggling with the idea that I could be ignorant of something so fundamental. "This is like trying to explain air."

"Look, tell me who the Diviners are, what they do, how they do it and why they do it."

"Okay. Well, Diviners are from the Synagogue," I wanted to ask which Synagogue but I thought best to let him finish, "They're gifted powers by the Goddess herself after many, many years of devotion. Diviners are typically old and frail-looking but they've got this…feeling about them that opens you up."

I quirk an eyebrow as he struggled to convey the power they gave off-sounds like a bit of omniscience.

"And what do they do?"

"What do they do? They Divine." He says like it's the most obvious thing in the world, which it probably is. "The Synagogue is led by a council of Diviners, the very best and likely the oldest. They send out new Diviners to all parts of the world to help people move past grief. To warn people of danger, to predict harvest bounties, bless the soil, bless the children and women, and let everyone feel the presence of the Goddess. They bless new rulers or denounce them as they are guided and some guide the passing of the dead too."

"Seems like they do a lot."

He nods, "They do. But commoners like Sem and Elsa just want their reassurance that their lands will produce a good batch of crops, blessings for their businesses, and especially for them to commune with the dead, those who have passed on to the Goddess."

"Except not everyone passes to the Goddess though. Also, who is this Goddess?"

Anselm let out another exasperated sigh, looking at me like a child who refused to behave.

"Yes, I'm a prime example of someone who didn't go into the light of the Goddess. And the Goddess is Anera. The Goddess of Light. How have you not heard of her yet you practice magic?" He levels me with an accusing gaze, trying to peel back the folds of the mystery that is me.

"Forget about that. Just tell me, do these Diviners earn money?" This is what is most important to me; Sem had mentioned something about a free pass that makes me suspect there was a sort of free trial period before your card is charged the full bill.

"Well, I would assume so. They are sent to towns and villages everywhere; they stay at the side of the local ruler who keeps a record of who has had access to the Diviners before. They are difficult to reach, yet widely sought out. So, payment could be needed."

"You sound so unsure, are they paid or not. Do people pay to see them and ask for a commune or blessing? How do they work?"

"Honestly? I'm not sure." He shrugs and I resist the urge to facepalm, "I never had a reason to meet one of them while I was alive. The first and last time I ever met them was before I went to war. They blessed the entire army, a whole load of them in baggy robes, their eyes....made me want to spill out everything in my mind. But before I joined the army, I was too poor to have a business. I sold handcrafted wooden toys to Nobles, and I barely had enough to eat. A Diviner was the last thing on my mind."

If one could get a headache from disappointment that would be what I was experiencing. I'd need to ask the locals after all.

***

I spent a bit pondering what my next steps should be depending on either answer I'm given. If the Diviners aren't paid by the people, perhaps instead by the person managing the village or town, sort of like a salary, then I'd find myself hard-pressed to find a means of monetizing my powers, few as they are.

However, if they are paid by the populace, I already have something in mind, and it all centred around the table I sit at. If all else fails I'd try convincing Anselm to help me steal, so far, he is still resistant to the idea.

"It's not the same!" he shook his head wearily; I've exhausted him today. If exhaustion is something a ghost can feel anyway. "There's a distinct difference. When I suggested you rob Arak village, I was certain that it occupied only by evil. But here? They want to live their lives and they are barely managing at that!"

His point is solid. Justified even and I doubt anyone could come up with a reason to refute it. Except for criminals of course, and that's what I am. Or rather was.

My criminal activities in my past life had been what landed me in this…place. I would apologize several times over the things I did and I would swear never to do them again but the truth is; I'd made up my mind. If my welfare, my existence, is in danger, I will do what I must to rectify it, even if it brings me an untimely end.

A chance of being safe, content and alive is better than the certainty of death and misery. Still, however much I try I can't control Anselm as as I thought I would. Waving the threat of not being summoned again only goes so far, the man has principles, much like myself.

"Fine. I'll tell you now though, Anselm. If I get the opportunity to get myself out of this, don't expect me to turn it down."

He rolls his eyes but understands nonetheless. A few minutes after Anselm's minutes run up, the door swings open and Elsa comes in, the wide smile on her face transplants itself on mine despite my foul mood.

She and Sem carry a large blackened pot in, steam rising from the inside, wafting the beautifully melded scents of tomatoes and vegetables.

"It smells delicious."

They heft it beside the table and Sem gets the wooden bowls and spoons to set the table.

Her eyes crinkle at me as she sits opposite me, shuffling her chair in, "Thank you, Great Mage."

I wince at the title, I love the thought of people grovelling at my feet and all but worshipping me, but the actual action is a bit off-putting. More so when I have no real power.

"What happened to your…friend?" she asks, looking about the small hut of a house. "Will he not join us?"

"Mother, he is a spirit," Sem says matter-of-fact as he sits down, his spoon ready in his hand to scoop up food as soon as his mother dishes it out.

"Oh…Well, may Anera nourish him..." Her words come out more as a question than a statement.

We sit and eat in silence together; Elsa has scooped out a generous amount of the tomato-centric vegetable soup and dumped it on my plate. Near the end of the meal, when our plates are nearly empty and the pot holds only enough for a small breakfast in the morning; I pose my question.

"Elsa."

"Yes, Great Mage?" she answers immediately, seeming to erect herself at the sound of my voice.

"You can call me Asher by the way. I want to ask, do the Diviners receive payment from people?"

She frowns, tilting her head to the side as she swallows up the last of her soup. "Do you mean if we pay to see them?"

"Yes."

"We always do. The only exception is when we want to commune with our dead. We can commune with them for free once, the next time will be charged. But Sem and I haven't even gotten the chance to commune with my Husband, the Mayor, the village…" she stops, her breath hitching a bit and I'm confident she's about to bawl but she breathes and sniffs a bit before she continues. "I held hope that you would be able to summon him like you do your friend but..."

"I'm sorry I can't help you there. From what I have learned about spirits, they either move on or linger. I can only summon those who linger." I lend her a smile and add, "This is a good thing. Those that linger often cannot return and are stuck between the living and the dead, they are not taken by…Anera."

"That does sound like a good thing," Sem mutters, a smile lighting up his otherwise stained food face.

"Yes. It does." Elsa agrees before turning back to me. "Why were you asking about the Diviners? Do you want to commune with someone?"

"No. Nothing like that." I smile. The Diviners are paid by the people, it is very well a business. Just like back home with the many churches collecting tithes and offerings for a lifted conscience every Sunday.

"But you can tell me more though. Like how much you're meant to pay for the Diviner's attention." She gives me a confused look, shared by her son, "And so we don't starve, I'm going to be needing this table and the chairs as well."

Yes. I always played with the idea of starting a church back home but never got around to actually looking into what made the faith business so successful. A second life a second chance.

Time to be a Diviner.