Let's Talk About Death

Cillian honestly couldn’t recall if there was ever a time in his life where he’d been more happy than he was right now. Not that his life had been a slog, but for a man who had spent the last several centuries just going through the motions and flitting haphazardly through his day to day, it was weirdly thrilling to finally open up to his emotions. He had Dela to thank for that. And Vera, too, of course. It was crazy that he’d met so many people throughout his life, even becoming good friends with so many of them, but it wasn’t until he’d met those two ladies that his sense of humanity had started to return. And now here he was, a successful business owner, a member of a guild that was lasting quite a bit longer than any of the others he’d joined in the past, and a committed boyfriend to the most amazing woman he’d ever known.

Speaking of business, Cillian was currently working. While his restaurant, Vera Jayne’s Bistro, wasn’t currently open there was still plenty of work to be done to prepare for the day. It was midmorning, and the delivery company had just finished dropping off a regular supply of ingredients and goods. His staff was busying themselves with putting everything away and doing a sweep of the store for any areas the closing team from the night before may have missed cleaning. Cillian himself was behind the bar, his tall, lanky form bent over the surface as he double checked the inventory slip to make sure nothing was missing. He was dressed in plain clothes rather than his work attire for the moment, a pair of yellow pants with green plaid trim, and a matching jacket. He wore no shirt under the jacket, his almost obnoxiously muscular chest exposed from collar to navel. On his left hip, just above the hem line of his trousers, was the crimson emblem that marked him as a member of Confidence International.

A couple days ago he had heard from Saffron, notifying him that she had pointed someone in his direction. She hadn’t said much, but she’d said enough: a young girl who was interested in meeting with someone who shared her “magical affinity”. It was an innocent enough comment on the surface, but Saffron was part of the small circle that knew he was a necromancer, so even for a dunce like him it hadn’t been too difficult to put together. The girl in question had yet to show up, but Saffron said she had given her directions to his restaurant so he was confident that she would show when she was ready.

In the meantime, he went about his work. Satisfied that nothing had been left out of his shipment, he signed the slip and passed it over to the delivery driver, who was waiting patiently on the other side of the counter. “Looks good. Here ya go, bud.”

“Thank you, sir. And thanks for the goodie bag, too! The guys back at the office always appreciate it.”

Cillian grinned. “You mean you’re actually gonna share, this time?”

“I always share! After I eat my favorite pieces.”

The man grinned back and Cillian chuckled as he waved him off. “Alright, see you next week, man.” As the driver exited through the front door to continue his route, the necromancer got to work wiping down the counter of the bar and restocking it with all the necessary goods they’d need for when the restaurant opened in another hour or so.

He was so focused on his tasks that he almost didn’t even notice the girl when she first walked in. By the time Cillian spotted her, she was only a couple steps away from reaching him at the bar. Before he could speak up to inform her that the restaurant wasn’t quite open yet, having assumed she was a customer, she introduced herself and explained that Saffron had sent her his way for aid. “Oh! Yeah, I was wondering when you were gonna drop by.” The tall man offered her a big, toothy smile that made him look more like a goofball than anything else. “Nice to meet ya. I’m Cillian.”

Finishing with wiping down the counter, he tossed the used rag in a bin behind the bar, he pushed open the swinging door that led to the back kitchen. A moderate cacophony of sound streamed through from the cooks that were getting things ready for the day; the clang of pots and pans, the rattle of silverware and the rhythmic thumping of knives chopping away at this or that ingredient. There was also a strong scent of cooking food that wafted in – food that would probably smell impossibly good to anyone who got a good sniff of it. “Hey Reg, I’ve got something I gotta take care of for a bit. You mind locking the front door? We’ve still got about an hour before open, don’t want anyone wandering in early.”

“You got it, boss!” called a male voice from inside the kitchen.

Cillian let the door close once more, the barrier muffling the noise from beyond while he turned his attention back to his guest. “Sorry about that. Let’s have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? A beer or cider, or something? My treat!” He was already pulling down a couple clean glasses, his friendly smile still in place and clearly not a single thought between his ears as to the fact that the young woman standing before him was obviously too young to be drinking alcohol.

Ultimately, whatever she chose he’d fill up a glass for her and get a drink for himself as well before leading her over to one of the corner tables. Cillian set their glasses down, sliding hers toward her before taking a seat. He took a moment to take a sip of his drink.

“So, Saff tells me you’re looking to talk shop about magic and necromancy? Oh, don’t worry about talking openly here. My staff are all members of the same guild as me. They know about my magic, so no need to keep our voices down or anything; they don’t care and they’re not gonna talk if they overhear anything, promise.” Most people that studied necromancy were used to having to keep their abilities hidden, seeing as how society wasn’t exactly fond of the practice. But he wanted to assure her that his restaurant was a safe space for such talk.

“Anything in particular you’re looking to learn more about?”

Once they were settled, he opened the dialogue to see what her interests were. She wasted little time in getting right to the point. A small hum of understanding rumbled from his throat as he nodded, swallowing a mouthful of liquid from his cup. “Ah yes, the big R-word… Can’t say I blame you on that one. I think true resurrection is probably the primary driving goal of anyone who gets into necromancy.”

He was no different, of course. These days he had no interest in true resurrection, but when he’d first gotten started, it was because he had been attempting one. “I won’t say it’s impossible. I’ve never succeeded before, and I’ve been doing this a very long time… but just because I haven’t been successful doesn’t mean it can’t be done. What I will say is that I’ve never met another necromancer that has ever done it either, and I’ve met plenty of them over the last four hundred years.”

“Your main hurdle is going to be Death,” he explained. “Once someone’s time has come and they’ve died, she doesn’t generally allow their souls to return to the mortal realm. Goes against the natural order of things and all that. She’s a great woman, but she does take her job very seriously.” Cillian spoke as if he was more than a little familiar with the incarnation. “Being a cosmic entity that’s been reaping souls since the dawn of man, she’s unfathomably powerful. You’d have to accrue enough power to overcome her influence over the souls of the dead. In a way that’s a little different than summoning spirits and creating zombies – reanimating a dead body, even attaching a spirit to one, isn’t exactly the same as a true resurrection.”

He tapped his finger lightly on the surface of the table while he thought. “Assuming you were able to find a way to get past Death… Honestly, the body thing might require more science than magic. There’s only so much that most magic can do to restore a body that has already decomposed. But, maybe science could create a fresh replica? Like a clone, or something? Even then, I can’t really be confident in it. Even if it’s technically all the same DNA as the original body, there’s no telling if the soul will accept it the same way as its original host form. I’d probably have to do some deep research. Honestly, I haven’t really looked into resurrection in a very long time.”

“What kind of stuff are you currently capable of? Can you give me a demonstration?”

“I mean… sure, I don’t see why not.” Cillian shrugged, completely unperturbed by the request to dissect him. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Though admittedly, it’s been a while. Actually, I think Mercury was wanting to do that, too.” There was a small pause as he tilted his head in thought. For a moment, it didn’t seem like he was going to expand any further on the thought, or explain who the other woman he’d mentioned was… but then his face lit up as an idea came to mind. “Come to think of it, she might be a good person to connect you with, anyway. Mercury’s a buddy of mine, she’s with  Silver Wolf. Crazy good with pretty much every science. So, she could be a good resource. And she’s cool about necromancy stuff, too.”

He couldn’t guarantee that Saiko would ever find answers or reach a place where she could successfully pull off a true resurrection, but if anyone could help explore options it would be Mercury. Either way, the man was totally open to letting Saiko play operation with his organs, without even stopping to ask why.

But, that was something they could explore later. For now, he was more interested in seeking what skill level she was at. There was a moment of hesitation on her part, but eventually she set her doll on the table. His crimson gaze flicked to it as though only just seeing it for the first time, widening a touch with surprise and interest. His expression only grew when the doll’s eyes opened, dripping a small amount of blood, before offering a halting greeting. Cillian gave the animated object a friendly smile. “Hey there, Suki! It’s very nice to meet you, too. I’m Cillian.” Reaching out, and assuming Saiko didn’t stop him, he would carefully hold Suki’s hand between his thumb and pointer finger and give it a gentle, polite handshake.

He didn’t need to question if this was necromancy or not. Cillian had been communicating with the dead long enough to know the difference between an artificially animated object and one that was attached to a genuine spirit. “This is really great,” he told Saiko. “I know some necromancers that have been practicing longer than you’ve been alive whose summons still lack any measurable intelligence. I assume you two are close?” His question had less to do with the similarity in the eyes, an observation that Cillian was frankly too dense to have noticed yet. Rather, if Saiko kept the doll with her wherever she went, then it stood to reason Suki was someone dear to her. Most likely a family member, if he had to hazard a guess.

Whatever Saiko did – or didn’t – decide to share, he figured it would be poor manners not to return her gesture of trust. Not to mention, this young girl would hardly have any reason to believe he could help her if he didn’t prove that he was capable of the craft himself. “Here, I’ll introduce you two to one of mine, too. Let’s see…” Cillian thought for a moment about who he wanted to summon before reaching a hand out toward the ground to the side of the table… then he stopped. “Oh, hm. Maybe I shouldn’t do it that way in here. I wouldn’t be able to fix the floor before the cafe opens. I think I should have a…” He started patting his clothes down searchingly, and a moment later withdrew a worn leather pouch. Fixed to it was a large metal ring with roughly ten or so keys on it, most of which were silver or bronze in color and appeared to be rather ancient looking – though there was one that stood out from the others, shiny and golden. “Aha!”

He flipped through the keys until he selected one that was rather ornate and delicate looking in design, but the bronze was dull and weathered from age. Pointing the key away from the table, he focused his magic on it. “Hey Klaus, c’mere for a sec, bud!” Cillian said in what was perhaps the most casual, structure-less incantation to ever be uttered by man. Regardless, a swirl of sickly green miasma materialized before them and from within it stepped a man. His body was gaunt, his skin sunken and pale with dark splotches and visible decay of death, though the decay was remarkably minor for a zombie. Also remarkable was how minute the scent of death was, the smell present but not as overwhelming as one would expect. He was dressed in the flowing garb of ancient priestly robes that left a lot of his chest exposed, with tufts of black hair poking out from beneath the hood. When he spoke, his voice and body language were both very effeminate.

“Oh my heavens, honey, you would not believe the tiff that Butch and Moxie just got into. It’s a wonder that man doesn’t just perpetually live in the dog house. Oh, hello.” The priest blinked in surprise when he realized there was someone else with them.

“Klaus, this is Saiko and Suki,” he introduced them, gesturing toward the girl and the doll respectively. “Saiko is necromancer looking to expand her magic, so I thought I’d introduce her to one of you guys.”

Excitement overtook Klaus and he clapped lightly in joy. “How exciting! I never get to meet anyone! Ohhh! Move over. Move over!” He flipped his hands at Cillian, practically shoving the man over to make room for himself to sit. “It’s so wonderful to make your acquaintances! Aren’t you two just the most darling things? You are just gonna have to tell me everything about yours–”

Klaus paused, his eyes flicking to the glasses on the table. There was a blank look on his face for a moment. Then… “Cillian. Sweetheart. Blessed disciple of our lord and savior Death herself… Did you serve this beautiful, delightful, very clearly still a minor child alcohol?” He turned to look at the elder necromancer.

“What?” Cillian scoffed with an easy chuckle. “No, I–” It was Cillian’s turn to stop. He looked at Saiko, then down at the glass in front of her, then back at her, then to Klaus, back to Saiko, and once more down at the drink. The deafening pause seemed to stretch for hours, the gears in his head slowly, finally, clicking into place. Then, after several long seconds…

“Please don’t tell Dela.”
“I’m telling Dela.”

Both men spoke at the exact same time, Klaus deadpan and Cillian pleading. A nervous giggle escaped his throat as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head and turned his gaze back to his young guest. “Hey uh… I don’t suppose you’d be real cool about not… telling anyone about that? It’d be bad for business. And my girlfriend would probably have to arrest me. Actually, she’d probably enjoy tha–”

Klaus slapped his hand over Cillian’s mouth, cutting the sentence off in its tracks. “Let’s be quiet, and thankful that you’re pretty, yes?” The necromancer nodded, and his zombie smiled and pulled back, fixing his attention once more to Saiko and Suki. “Beautiful. Now you, you scrumptious little muffins, why don’t you tell me all about yourselves?”