“Sinaveil, grant me your power”

Vincent’s hands rose, black magick igniting from his fingers. The dragon before him growled, and sent a terrible turquoise flame toward us. My hands raised instinctively as the flames enveloped us both, but no heat rushed over my body and removed me from the earth. Even though I knew the breath only lasted seconds, it felt like eternity. When the beast closed its jaw, Vincent’s hands were scorched black, but they were already healing at a rapid pace. From black to raw red to a dark brown, his hands raised higher, the magick burning down his arms. With a cry, a pair of skeletal hands fit for a giant erupted from the ground and went for the throat of the dragon. As they strangled it, the dragon swept claws at bone and mage alike, a single finger grazing the palm of Vincent and letting out a line of blood. With a grimace, Vincent thrust down with his hands and slammed the dragon to the ground. With a twist, the hands snapped the neck of the beast, with a faint roar the final act of defiance.

As Vincent lowered his hands, the bone-bare hands lowered as well, disappearing into the earth without even a shimmer. As he turned toward me, his cut healed, but at a slower pace that showed scar tissue. I reached to grab my blade, but I recoiled as the hilt burned orange-hot.

“Here, let me heal you,” Vincent suggested, but I turned my burnt hands away from his, fear crawling up my spine.

“What in gods’ name was that spell, Vinz? You told us you were a wizard of Light, not of dead”.

“It is not what it looks like, Amara. There is no-“

“-evil within your magick!”

Vinz and I couldn’t help but duck as a mace the size of our heads swung over ours. As I looked up, I saw our Paladin, Cread, swing it around to his shoulder. With a shout, he sent another swing toward Vinz, crashing downward into the earth as Vinz leaped back with a flair of spell at his feet.

“Cread, listen to me! I do not want to fight any of you”.

“You fight me on my beliefs, warlock! There is no majesty in the dark!”

“Oh please, Cree, there most certainly is”.

Vinz gasped as a knife came to his throat. From the shadows, Triaa came forth, her hood of Plane-walking falling to reveal crimson locks of hair and elongated earlobes. She placed a hand on Vinz’s back and pushed forward, tipping his weight forward and onto her shoulder. Vinz attempted to move, but Triaa only tsked as the blade laid smooth on his Adam’s apple.

“Now, Vinz,” Triaa said as her weight shifted to hold him still, “you mind telling us exactly what that was?”

Vinz breathed deep, his eyes racing across my face and Cread’s. With another breath, he spoke once more.

“It, it was an invocation, of necromancy,” Vinz let out.

“Correct. And do you know what you told us when you joined our party six weeks ago?”

“That I only knew-ow-healing magick?”

“Correct again, my dear,” Triaa replied, her knife moving away from his throat. With a slight push, Triaa sent Vinz forward and making him near stumble on the length of his linen trousers.

“Triaa, what are you doing!?”, Cread asked, his mace raised high. I grabbed my blade from the ground, pointing it at Vinz whose hands raised in surrender.

“Come on, Cree, you know Vincent would not hurt a harmless fly, nevertheless his friends. Am I right, dear?”

“Right you are, ma’am,” Vinz gulped as Cread took a step forward, but sighed and lowered his mace to the ground. I took three forward, my blade pointed at Vinz’s nose.

“But he did say he was a wizard,” I questioned, my sword unwavering before him. “And no wizard does necromancy under the Guild”.

“Well, um, I’m the exception,” Vinz spilled nervously, his hands raising higher again as I thrust my blade slightly toward him.

“What do you mean by exception?’

“I’m a warlock, yes. I am a Necromancer, yes. But the Guild found my skills to be exactly what they need as a wizard, and so they let me go”.

“Your skills? You have basic magick control, fire magic, and healing. What do you need necromancy for?”

“Well, my healing is necromancy. But it’s a little hard to explain when you have a sword to the face,” Vinz pitched, with a single finger upon the top of the blade. With a single thought of doubt, I sighed and relaxed my arms. Sheathing the blade, I instead pointed a finger upon his chest and pushed to a rock in front of me. He sat down and twiddled his thumbs as Cread and I stood around arms crossed, Triaa opting to levitate cross-legged. With a nervous glance, Vinz sighed, pulling off his hood of lapiz and letting out a length of black hair to his shoulder.

“Ok, so,” he began to explain, “my healing is necromancy. It’s not complete necromancy, not one enough to rise a human or animal or Eldritch from the dead. What is enough to arise from death is these tiny, and I mean tiny particles on a person’s body. This allows me to essentially reverse wounds, by taking dead particles, letting them live again, and then having them join back with the rest of the particles happy-ever-after!”

“Wait, so you are telling me that I have nercomanced…THINGS on my body?!” Cread cried, his mammoth hands rushing across his arms and legs. Vinz chucked and laid a hand on Cread’s arm.

“Cread, you’re fine. They’re not rotting or boney like other necromanced things are. They’re slightly different in terms of makeshift, but that’s why the tiny scars are there”.

“Then why did you seem to heal completely from the dragon flame?” I interjected, my eyes glaring into his. Vinz looked at his hands, noting the lack of scar tissue from his arms or palm.

“When I called upon him, Sinaveil, he gave me much power as I needed to stop the dragon, heal us, and save you,” he stated calmly with a look of care at me. I felt a warmth creep up my neck before I flushed it down with a deep breath.

“That explains the giant hands then,” Triaa noted, her legs flipping around whilst she floated, “Physical projection or actual necromancy, by the way?”

“A little bit of both,” Vinz replied with a short smile. His face set back to stone as he looked at his hands once more. I reached for his hand, hesitated, and laid both palms on his arm instead.

“Is there something wrong, Vinz?” I asked quietly, squeezing his arm softly. Vinz sighed again and began looking in the distance, trailing the horizon with a sense of melancholy.

“Whenever I call upon Sinaveil, my life force gets taken away. Bit by bit every time.

“How much is a bit?”

“About half a year, give or take a day”.

I grit my jaw in shock, before asking “And how many times have you done so, Vinz?”

“Since I’ve been with you all, 5 times including now. Since I’ve known his presence… 30 times”.