I plop another one of the purple fruits in my mouth and crush it. I look to my plate woefully; I'd nearly cleared it all. Greedy as I am, I'd like to save some for later so a refill was out of the question.

I'm not sure what they're called, just that they are small, round and come in a bunch. The servants served them up to me with some other fruits of course, but out of all they are my favourite. They weren't overly chewy and crunchy, nor did they melt in my mouth before a third bite, they weren't terribly sweet either, just the right balance of everything for the best taste and experience.

It delights me greatly to swish them around in my mouth, trying to see how long I could wait before crushing it for its savoury juices and it served well as a past time, even a distraction from the bore and drudgery of my court, well, Hall. But soon I would be granted a proper court, I would be raised to proper nobility not the mere imitation I am now, forced to oversee a woeful village on the outskirts of the Kingdom.

A punishment from my father, assigning me control of a pitiful village with barely any protection. I don't know what I did that was so wrong honestly but I know I don't deserve to be stuck in this backwater.

Still, I ploughed through, like he wants me to; to grow in power and acknowledge the responsibility I have to the people. Ludicrous, but I'd wait. The old man is ailing and it wouldn't take long for him to pass I just need to be patient and I'd be rewarded the sweet taste of my birth right.

But for now, at least, the tastes of these fruits would do and they would do well, especially with the grim look on my steward's face as he hurriedly approaches me.

"What is it this time? More elves groaning? I've told you to sike the militia on those ingrates." I plop another fruit in my mouth as I regard him with a look.

He falls to a knee at the steps to my make-shift throne; one of the first things I did when I took over renovate. They'd received me without the proper preparations, how was I expected to rule if I didn't even have a throne room? That day I'd punished a lot of people, especially the person I was replacing. Thinking about him now, protesting that a 'Mayor' didn't have a throne room enrages me. I am no 'Mayor' I am Nobility; I am heir to an entire Countship and yet I receive such ill treatment.

"Sire, it's the Diviner. He is out front demanding an audience with you, he sa-"

"Demanding?"

"Err, I mean he-"

The doors abruptly swing open, slamming against the sides of the wall with a bang. Spilling through the doors are my guards and ordinarily they aren't on fire but right now they rolled around the floor flailing and screaming for the burning to stop.

I get to my feet and stretch my hand forth, I call on the familiar pool within me, taking a tiny bit out of it and mould it to my will, immediately the result of this exercise is evident by the jet of water spiralling through and dousing them.

"What is the meaning of this!" My question is directed not at my steward or the men thanking me for my mercies but at the crotchety old man stepping over the writhing bodies of my guards.

"You've kept me waiting far too long, Perlman, especially for someone of your station." He raises his staff and flails it at me. I catch myself flinching at it the action, old as he is the Diviner wields decades of harnessed power and he is my elemental opposite.

He snorts at me as he approaches the steps, my steward retreating behind me like I could protect him from the powerful Diviner if he chose to attack, "Relax, Perlman, I have not come for you head, but I will if you continue to brush aside my warnings and pleas. I come again to inform you of heresy brewing in your domain, if you send me away this time, I will return sanctioned by the Synagogue to burn you where you stand."

I narrow my eyes at the old man, I didn't doubt for a second, he meant what he'd said. Diviners were zealots sniffing the air around them for the slightest sign of misalignment with the Synagogue, they're terribly efficient at detecting and perceiving disturbances wherever they're placed and they're always eager to strike it down.

"You came to me with this two days ago, said you sensed a terrible disturbance in the direction of Arak village. The Following has wiped out the village like they were always going to old man, your eagerness did not change the timeline of this outcome one bit. Next you tell me that disturbance has made it's way to my domain and what did I tell you?"

The old crone falls silent and sneers at me, "You shoved my matter aside, Perlman. Not as important as ordering a new stock of that fruit of yours. I demanded action on the heathen, however many they may be!"

"No! I told you that it was a trade day. Many people entered the village that day, you want me to order the guard to interrogate them all and scare off trade? No, never! I may simply be bidding my time but for however long my stay here will be I intend to make it comfortable."

"And today? The streets are abuzz, Perlman, shut in as you are you must have heard of this charlatan and I come with proof." He turns back to the wide-open door and beckons on the woman that stood in path, head held down. "Come, tell your Mayor what you've heard, what you've experienced"

She shuffles forth, stopping a few feet behind the Diviner to bow at the two of us, "Lord Mayor-"

"Sire"

"Ah, yes, Sire, what the Diviner says is true, there is a charlatan in the streets charging fifty coppers at a chance to see our lost ones."

"See?" I direct my question at the Diviner, "See them physically? Are you speaking of Necro magic?" If there is a Necromage in our midst then the situation is truly dire. He doesn't answer, only looks at the woman, urging her with his eyes to continue.

"Yes, the charlatan claimed to be capable of bringing our lost ones to the physical for fifty coppers."

"Seems fair, compared to what the Synagogue charges." I sneer right back at the Diviner, but truly I only mask my nervousness.

"Yes, that is why I tried to see my dearly departed friend yesterday," she looks away ashamed to speak it whole in the presence of the Diviner.

"Speak, woman, you are absolved by your confession." The Diviner comments impatiently.

She nods and continues, "I had my fifty coppers ready and I attempted to see my friend via this charlatan, not only was he unable to let me see my friend but he tried to fabricate lies about what my friend would say to me from the bosom of Anera."

I let out a sigh, relieved. "What have you brought me, Diviner? You want me to send my guards to clear out every trickster that tries to prey on the villagers? It can't be helped these people will always exist."

"She isn't done." Is all he says.

"But today, on my way to the river to fetch water, I saw a large crowd. Curious I took a look and it was the same charlatan, except this time he made good on his promise, he brought back Lord Garland the First!"

Garland the First? "Are you certain of this?"

She nods vigorously, her eyes wide as she remembers the scene, "Apparently it was on the request of Lord Garland the third, he sought to see his grandfather. The charlatan made a spectacle of it, claiming us all as his witnesses he brought back Lord Garland the First and took him back all with the snap of his fingers, right before our eyes!"

I look at the Diviner and shiver. A Necromage. Here? I gulp and silently curse my luck. More than likely I should prepare a carriage for home.

"Before you begin plotting your escape, Perlman, we should see this Necromage ourselves."

"Are you insane? No matter how strong you perceive yourself to be Diviner, you cannot be so pompous to take on a Necromage on your own."

"He hasn't begun killing anyone and from her story it seems he doesn't even have a hand on his own power. And who said anything about alone?"

The smile on his wrinkled face only serves to deepen my fears. What does this insane Diviner have planned?

***

Fear wracks through me at the declaration. A single pair of blue eyes find my own, they shine cold and bright, not unlike a fire anxious to eat up whatever fuel it can get on. Anselm was right, I could feel myself begin to unravel at his eyes, the Diviners eyes. They bore through me like a needle sewing threading; always coming back for more, leaving no space disconnected, bringing it all together and holding it all together by its strength alone, that is the Diviners eyes.

I tear my eyes away via sheer force of will and perhaps a splotch of mana and when I open my eyes again, I'm back at the centre of the crowd, Garland is arguing with the Mayor and the Diviner is…just an old man with a staff.

I'm relieved and anxious at the same time. The old man was several feet away, even farther than the Mayor he came with and yet his influence found me. What sort of magic was that? Perhaps I'm in over my head with this spirit thing. I should leave, yes, while I still have my secrets and nihilism intact.

I jump to my feet and get set to turn around, only that seemed to attract more attention than I'd thought. I'd forgotten I was a centre of attention. The crowd seems to react to my single step and move forward.

Once more all eyes are on me. Garland and the Mayor stop arguing and I groan at my misfortune once I see the Diviner moving towards me. Quickly I put on a smile to hide my nervousness and make my way forward as well. It wouldn't help to back down right now.

We meet at the middle or I think we do anyway. My bright pastoral smile is met by the stern glare and accusing gaze of the Diviner and the Mayor. Up close the Mayor falls a few inches short of my six feet so they both find themselves looking up at me. At first, I try avoiding the cold blue of the Diviner but it can't help but look, especially when he was making it so prevalent. So, I stop resisting, I may be frightened of his abilities but I am no coward. I keep a steady grip on my mana as I exercise it, getting it ready for whatever may come of this.

Garland the Third is the first to speak, he waves his hand between I and the two saying, "This is the village Mayor Perlman and here is the village's assigned Diviner."

"And who are you?" the Diviner, his voice is stronger than his posture, his gaze remains trained on me throughout the short introduction.

"This is…" Garland starts to speak and suddenly finds himself loss of words. I bite my cheek as I realize I hadn't gotten around to introducing myself to the crowd, or anyone aside from Elsa and Sem for that matter.

"I am the bridge." I answer, it was a literal and simple name, you got the general idea when someone called the bridge has something to do with spirits, it needed no explanation and the layman could quickly understand why I am important. Or was important for a single hour before getting executed for heresy that is.

"The bridge…" the Mayor, Perlman mutters snidely. "And you claim to be capable of?"

"Bringing lingering spirits from the purgatory. The space between life and death."

"Heresy!" I flinch at the sharp rebuke, "Manipulating a soul is only for the Goddess Anera whom we all serve!"

I clench my fists and prepare, if my verbal defence here fails then…

"I do not manipulate souls. I simply guide them back from purgatory to the world of the living. I have no control over them whatsoever except being able to dismiss them as I please. The Goddess left these souls for me to guide, she gifted me these powers so I may give her children a chance at glancing their loved ones yet again, like I have done so for Garland here."

The Diviner and Perlman exchange a look and look back at me. Perlman speaks this time, words that shock me to my core. "Just what a foul Necromage would say."

***

I'm not sure why I thought they wouldn't know what a necromancer was, or looked like. But I did. Maybe I thought my façade of small-time divinity was enough to fool them, but the Diviner is obviously a blood hound.

However, it was a simple accusation, completely unfounded, I think. Back home it's the equivalent of pointing a finger at someone in the streets and yelling thief or murderer. You wouldn't be taken seriously. Well, a few do-gooders might, but the rest of the population would be too indifferent to bother with such a blatant accusation.

Point is, you need a lot more evidence to elicit an investigation talk less of an indictment. That's why I'm not fazed by Perlman's words, at least not any longer than the few seconds it took to acknowledge what he'd said.

It's typical really, for a medieval world like this one to be guilty first innocent post-mortem. But again, I've been through too much to be thrown up the stake and burned at some back-water village.

"Necromage?" I tilt my head to the side and nearly pout in feign ignorance.

"Do not play dumb infidel, you shall have your head cut off and burned as a sacrifice to Anera herself!" The Diviner nearly growls. Though, his words do frighten.

"I do not know what you speak of old man but I do not appreciate threats, even from the elderly." Truly I was beginning to tire from the interrogation. A large part of me now wanted nothing more than to drain the man of his very soul.

Garland the First places hand and body between us, likely not wanting his ticket to the physical world hurt. I'm flattered. "Diviner." He starts, his voice was calm yet deeper than his grandson's, "Surely you remember me, old friend. We started this outpost together all those years ago, sent by the King himself."

I smirk. They knew each other? Wasn't this lovely?

"Yes, Garland. And lest you've neglected your faith in the afterlife or you are the fabrication of this Necromage, you shall understand that there is no room for such heresy in our faith. Souls belong to Anera and Anera alone!"

"Yes, but my soul has not been taken. This young man here has been blessed with the ability to be the bridge between the dead and the living, a true bridge, he does not take me anywhere."

The Diviner glares, "Not yet he doesn't."

"Besides that, dear friend. I have a bone to pick with you."

Strangely the Diviner smiles, "Ah, I knew you would be tumbling in your grave."

"And tumble I did. You lifted the pawn of politics to my Grandson's place as Mayor? Look where it has brought the village! Suffering, death and constant attacks from the Cult of Phien!"

I'm lost yet again but it doesn't matter, the attention is off me and I can prepare my argument while listening. Although, Garland seems to have made my point of innocence for me, ironic given he is literal evidence of my guilt.

"If you watched from above then you know it was beyond me. Your grandson is now magic attuned." At that I see Garland the third lower his head. I guess magic wasn't a common commodity here. "Worse off he held sympathies for the elves! A village so close to Union, so near the outskirts needs a mage leading it and Perlman was offered up by his father."

"Perlman is an incompetent buffoon!"

"Hey! I'm right here. I can still have your head for that." Perlman cries out.

"I'm dead you buffoon!"

Perlman's defiance falters at the driven point. I smile and find now is a good time as any to step in.

"I am not a Necromage and I am not a denizen of this Kingdom."

All eyes turn to me, the resounding question goes unsaid but I answer it anyway. "I woke up one day in cave and I was greeted by a spirit of a squire who'd died there. If it wasn't for his assistance, I would no doubt have died. I found my way to Arak village where I resisted the initiation of the Cult and was only saved by the Following's timely arrival. They dropped me off here, where I met a kind elven family missing their father, a father whose death was ordered by the wicked and incompetent Mayor Perlman. Now I seek to undo that injustice."

I end up telling the truth. Mostly. The truth I've told honestly made more sense than any lie I could have made up.

My audience is silent, Perlman is notably fuming, "Injustice?"

I'd finally gotten Elsa to spill the beans on the big dishonourable secret that made the mere mention of her husband a conversation stopper. The truth was disgusting. I'm no hypocrite, I'm a bad guy, evil perhaps. But I'm not scum.

"One of the reasons I brought back Garland here was to right the many unjust actions carried out in this village. And it all begins with removing you from the Town Hall Perlman." Truthfully, I hadn't thought this through. It was only after speaking to them that I decided. It wouldn't be farfetched to say I was jumping from one problem to another, from pan to fire.

But I felt obligated to those two, especially after hearing their story. I can't just leave the village with my pocket heavy with coin. I won't. Not with Perlman right in front of me.

"I will have your head, Infidel!" Perlman spits. He turns away, walking out of the crowd shoving and kicking whoever is in his way.

I'd just picked a fight. A fight I likely couldn't win no less. Fortunately for me though, I cheat.