The Necromancer’s Heart by Robin Harper

Author:Robin Harper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, fantasy, supernatural, gay, first love, HFN
Publisher: NineStar Press
Published: 2022-10-18T00:00:00+00:00

I raced Eirny as hard as she’d go for three days heading straight to the land of the Necromancers, the Gravelands. I didn’t have an army of anything behind me. It was me, my horse, and Perdita, racing against hope that we might storm the Necromancer’s castle and find Mortimer.

When the curse had been lifted from Oaksdale, and most of those lives had returned to normal, at last I had time to think beyond the absolute fear and betrayal that had slapped me in the face while fighting those vampires and lichens. Mortimer was one of them! He was their prince for Good Heaven’s sake!

I had run to the nearest town to send an urgent missive home to gather an army of Clerics to come to Oaksdale and fight the undead armies there. Then I had returned to attempt to scout out their plan of attack, count their forces to see what we were up against. Possibly kill their prince who had stolen my heart and broken it in under a week.

I was in shock. Mortimer was a Necromancer, and not any Necromancer, the prince! Which meant he would be their king! I couldn’t live with the heartbreak, knowing I might one day have to face Mortimer in battle. I’d sooner kill him now and end it for the both of us than see that day.

Perhaps that was dark of me, but it was what I wanted at the time. I was beyond comfort and disgusted with myself. How could I have let myself fall for a dead man? How dare I have kissed a dead body!

Looking back on it, there were so many signs, Mortimer’s cold hands, his powers of ice and seemingly nothing else, his coolness with the zombie attacks, his naive insistence that Death and Life must be in balance.

I was a fool.

But when I returned to scout out Oaksdale, I discovered I was an even bigger fool than I had assumed. Life had returned; the mists were gone. No sign of death or its minions was anywhere in sight.

There were a handful of fallen, those that had ventured into the forests to fight back the mass of undead. But for the most part, everyone was all right, children were traumatized, but healthy, and the touch of death that had threatened them was gone.

They must have believed I had cleansed their lands. And why shouldn’t they? One moment they were at Death’s Door, and then they were freed, and I wandered into town. Me. A Cleric with my sword drawn, my golden armor glinting in the sunlight. I was their hero.

Except I wasn’t. They had crowded around me and cheered for my victory and wept in relief for their savior had returned to them unharmed. But in the dirt, I saw what Mortimer had left behind. Well, Perdita had found them first. She had pawed at them and stared at me until I came over to investigate the two shiny pieces of dirt.

Two small droplets of ice. Shaped not unlike tears.

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