Page 31 of Monster’s Magic

Shayde nods approvingly, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. “Good. We’ll train together, unlocking the depths of your necromantic abilities. We’ll refine your control over life and death, guiding you through the intricacies of commanding the undead.”

Evie’s expression transforms into one of resolute determination. “And I’ll be right there with you every step of the way, Teagan. We’ll research ancient texts, seek forgotten knowledge, and tap into the secrets of our ancestors. We’ll ensure your power is honed to its fullest potential.”

I feel a surge of gratitude and strength wash over me. I’m no longer alone in this struggle. With Shayde and Evie by my side, I have what I need to navigate the treacherous path that’s laid out before me.

As we delve deeper into our plans, I couldn’t help sensing the room coming alive with an otherworldly energy, as if acknowledging the weight of our purpose. I had a newfound sense of purpose blossoming within me, intertwining with my heritage.

Soon, we would leave this room with our minds brimming with plans. I can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. I was no longer worried or scared of what was coming. I’m the rightful heir to a dynasty of necromancers, ready to reclaim my family’s legacy and rewrite the course of my own destiny.

But first, I need to learn how to raise this army!

CHAPTER11

Shaydeand I walk through the moonlit woods behind the academy. Our steps are marked by a symphony of rustling leaves and distant hoots of nocturnal creatures. The atmosphere is heavy with ancient whispers and the energy of restless spirits that lurk within the shadows. Anyone else would consider this frightening. I call this home.

We arrive at a clearing, surround by towering trees, their branches seemingly reaching out like skeletal fingers. The air feels charged, crackling with raw power. It’s the perfect training ground for me to hone my abilities.

Shayde’s ember eyes glimmer in the moonlight as he regards me. “Here, among the spirits and buried dead, you’ll learn to master the art of control. The dead are not mere puppets, but an extension of your will. You must command them as though you are their general, their undying leader.”

“How do you know so much about this,” I ask him.

“Remember when I told you I control the shadows?” I nod. “Same concept, except they’re not spirits or bones.”

“I guess that makes sense, on a weirdish level?”

He grins.

My heart begins to pound against my chest. I’ve spent countless hours studying the ancient tomes of necromancy, learning the intricacies of raising the dead and commanding their loyalty. Now, to stand on the precipice of putting my knowledge into practice…

“Remember, Teagan,” Shayde continues, his voice a haunting whisper, “the spirits can sense your intentions. They will respond to your emotions. Stay focused and maintain control.”

Taking a deep breath, I step forward, my hands trembling slightly. I channel my energy, tapping into the ethereal realm that lies beyond the veil of life. I can feel the energy tickle along my skin like small static flicks. I utter an incantation, my words resonating with ancient power.

As if summoned by my call, the earth beneath us quivers, and the soil cracks open. Wisps of spectral energy coalesce, swirling around me in a macabre dance. Beneath the ground, a purplish light glows from the source of magic being cast down. The rays illuminate skyward and my mouth drops open in astonishment.

I did this!

“Hold it, Teagan,” Shayde calls out. “Don’t let it go just yet.”

I push the primal power further and I can feel the surge rush through me like a strong current. It doesn’t hurt, however, the hairs on my airs and neck stand.

The ground rumbles further as skeletal hands emerge from their resting places, followed by an arm pushing the undead form from the ground.

The skeleton teeters left and right for a moment and I focus all my energy on him.

“Teagan, there’s others still trapped.” I hear Shayde close to me. “Release your power to release them.”

I can’t keep my focus on just one when others need me.

How the hell do generals do this with actual, real armies?

I close my eyes and picture what I need from my army of undead soldiers. I need them to pull themselves completely from the ground and line up like troops.

“Please, just do it,” I whisper.

I hear groans and grunts, then a crack or two. Opening my eyes, I’m pleasantly surprised to find ten or so skeletons standing, somewhat, in formation.

My heart swells with a mix of awe and fear as I survey my creation. The undead soldiers stand at attention, their hollow eyes fixed upon me. Their tattered clothes and armor, if they had armor when buried, clings to their decaying bodies, and their weapons gleam with an otherworldly light.

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