I walk out of the school building to the pathway and stretch. It has been another long day at school, and while my school day was far from normal, it could still get boring once you have lived through it enough.

My name is John, and I go to a school for “gifted” children. That's the official explanation, and the solid fact. But, instead of being slower to comprehend and conceive of ideas than other kids, or the complete opposite, and the Einsteins of the future, every single student at my school is supernaturally gifted. A Magi in training. Supposedly, the Four Stars Academy for Gifted Children was founded by a man most people have heard of in legend and myth. But none of them know the myth is true. Our founder is Saint George, the Dragonslayer.

The true story goes that Saint George was gifted with special powers by the King of Heaven. Why? Deep within Hell, creatures had been created. Dark beings who could transform at will, and had to survive on the blood of other creatures. Vampires. But not like the stories say. They don't burn in sunlight, and can't turn into bats or wolves, but they can change form into a creature vaguely similar to the werewolves of legend, which, by the way, do not exist. Lycanthropes do, but they are entirely different. Vampires can also sprout wings, thus giving birth to the idea of them becoming bats.

The King of Heaven is the Christian God, and the sometimes patron of Magi. But we never call Him by name. This is one of the first things we are told upon joining the academy, that calling upon a divine or infernal creature by its name can summon it, and none of us want to call undue attention upon ourselves. Generally we just prefer to stay out of sight and mind, unless there is a situation that requires otherwise. See, we're at war. Saint George killed several enslaved dragons, but he never managed to exterminate all of the vampires, though he did vanish from history and go on as a guide to later Magi, from what we are taught. Ever since Magi were created, we have been at war with the Darkness. Not a huge war, that involves vast amounts of troops being thrust at enemies to be cut down like grass under a mower, but personal combats in alleys, countryside, secluded areas generally. So we live with that constantly, the knowledge that monsters do exist, and that they focus on us far more than they do on normal humans. Normal people are just food. We are an actual threat.

Magi put their whole lives into slaying vampires, and we can live a long time. For all I know, Saint George himself may still be alive. I do know that we are led by an Archmage, but have no clue of his name, or what he's like. So, here I am leaving a school day involving meditation, blowing things up, and attempting to see into the future.

Ugh. I hate prophecy, and it was my worst class until I hit fifteen. Once you turn fifteen, you no longer spread yourself out as much, but choose several disciplines you will devote yourself to, which will later affect what you do as a full Magi. A few become Healers, some Mystics, and probably at least a third become Elementalists, whom I personally think must be suicidal. Throwing huge balls of fire around to burn anything you can see is just not my idea of a safe way to use magic. They go bald, mostly. No joke.

As for me, I went with one of the choices few people make. Necromancy. Since vampires are undead, it seems a pretty natural choice to me, but I think it scares most people. I've practiced calling up spirits, controlling undead, summoning cold, devouring light, stealing life, dominating the spirits of others, a few other nifty tricks. I can also learn to give life instead of taking it, a trick that only Healers and Necromancers can master, destroy property like an Elementalist, and protect myself like a Guardian, though I am limited in what I create, unlike a Sorceror, and I can't find objects or tell the future like Mystics.

One reason prophecy annoys me. I hear that the whispers around the Mystics say I'm going to die today. According to prophecy, of course. I don't believe it. After all, it has been proven that prophecy does not set the future, that the future can be changed no matter how many prophets yell at you of your impending doom.

But in the off chance prophecy is true, instead of wandering around with friends today(not that I have too many) I am just going to head straight to the dorm I live in, no side trips, no leaving the campus(which is fairly large), no possible chance of trouble of any kind. Right. I walk down the stone path in front of the school, take a right, and walk about half a mile when I remember something.

I left my only practical means of defense, my daggers, with a Sorceror in town yesterday to get them fixed. So, thinking about my situation for a minute, I decide I have to go pick them up, because I'll need them tomorrow, and because if I don't, my teacher, Grave, will probably be upset. Very.

Yeah, my Necromancy teacher's name actually is Grave. But I'm not going to say anything about it. He's an incredibly creepy guy. He has an ebony ring he always wears, which he claims he keeps souls of poor students in. In a normal school, a teacher might joke about that, but here, you never know... So, instead of doing the smart thing and turning around I decide to take a shortcut to the Sorceror's shop. I walk another mile to get to the edge of the campus, and head south. It's the quickest path to the shop, but it could be risky, especially for me.
There used to be a small school for Magi southeast of the current one, several hundred years ago. It was the precursor to the current Academy, but where Magi go, vampires may also go. The vampires attacked one night and killed everyone there, and the spirits of the slain Magi are still there. They are normally dormant and peaceful, but they sometimes come after people, and if I had to bet on it, vampires too, but I'm not sure. I never go there if I can avoid it, because spirits are drawn to Necromancers considerably more than they are other people, or even other Magi. It's a bit surprising to have a spirit in a grocery store come up and start talking to you. I almost went crazy the first time it happened to me.

I come up to the broken wall that used to go all the way around the school, noting that it has decayed and crumbled even more since the last time I came here, but still seems fairly strong. It still contains some magical power in it. I go past the wall and into the area where the actual buildings used to be, but as soon as I get about ten feet past the wall, I feel a sudden cold snap in the air. Not a physical cold, but spiritual. Someone has died here. And if I had to guess, it was within the last five to eight minutes. Not good for a Necromancer in training.

I reach out a bit with my... mind, I suppose. I am not certain what to call it precisely, but I know that a human would probably describe it as “extrasensory perception” or something like that. I suppose it is an additional sense that everything even vaguely in touch with what humans call the “supernatural” possesses. I reach out with this sense, this second sight, ten feet, twenty, thirty... and there it is. A dead body, but I can't tell the cause of death. I need to get closer for that. I walk forward cautiously, turning the corner of what used to be a school house. I'm not sure who would have been out here. Normal people avoid this place because of the spirits here, even if they can only barely sense them, and Magi don't come here often for the same reason. I turn a last corner, and sure enough, someone was here. I step closer, examining him. Medium height and weight, black jeans, Metallica t-shirt, dark hair. I recognize him. Not good.

His name was Paul, and he was another Necromancer in training. He was one of those Necromancers that thinks we have to dress all in black, act gloomy, be dark all the time. I never liked him much, but... he never did anything that deserved him having to die this early. I look around for his spirit, and it's not here, which means either he left (a better possibility with Necromancers than you might think), or something used some form of power to get rid of it. I know another Magi could have done something with his spirit, but I'm not sure why another Magi would have killed him.

I look closer to see if there are any visible wounds. I don't see anything at first, then as I lean closer I see bite marks. A vampire apparently killed him. They normally would just use main strength to rip and tear, so I'm guessing this vampire must have been female, and likely young looking. She probably just walked up to him, put on an act, then when he was off guard, tore into him. I stretch out a little bit more to see if I can feel any magic in the air, but there's nothing other than the ambient magic of the academy. I suppose once I get back to the Academy I can tell Mr. Grave, but other than that I don't know what to do with the body.
Besides, I am a little bit more concerned with myself. The vampire could still be around, and while I think I can defend myself adequately, fighting vampires is not on my list of fun hobbies. It is probably just below “clipping my toenails with a chainsaw”. I get up from my kneeling position, and walk past the body with a bit more caution that I used coming here, alert for any kind of danger. Of course, I am also ignoring the part of my mind which is informing me that a vampire might kill me, and listening to the part which is telling me that Grave will kill me.

I get out of the ruined area quickly, and jog for the shop I was heading for to begin with. It's a small store that used to be some kind of New Age religious place. But the current owner, Nick, bought it and turned it into a real Sorceror's workshop. I'm not sure how strong he is, but he is assuredly better than I am with enchantments. I knock on the door and wait for the wards to recognize me. They do, and the door swings open by itself, allowing my entrance.

I walk in and turn to face Nick. “How are you doing Nick?” I ask, not really expecting an honest answer. “You ask that every time” he reminds me “You should know the answer by now. Fine.” “Well, I'm just worried about you Nick, you know that. After all, at your age, you could drop dead any minute. It happens every day to overworked old men.” I say, grinning like a fox. Yeah, I love to be annoying. “So”, I ask, “Do you have my daggers ready yet?” “Of course”, he replies lifting a small box from one of the innumerable shelves behind him. “Here you go. Now, get your wise mouth out of my store before I throw you out. ” he says while handing me the box. I pay him, and after thanking him while grinning, I leave with my daggers.

Once outside, I strap one each to one of the leather thongs attached under my wrists, and the last I fix in a sheath strapped over my chest. And no, I'm not paranoid. Well, I am, but not to that extent. You see, each type of magic has a number attached to it that can amplify the power of it. For Necromancers,the number is three. There are three stages of existence; Life-Before-Life, or Prelife, Life-Before-Death, or Life, Life-After-Death,which most people simply refer to as death. They don't know what Necromancers see, hear, and feel, so they cannot understand. Also, there are three destinations for your soul after death. Heaven, Hell, and Tribunal. Tribunal is the middle ground for souls. Those who walked neither the Light nor Dark path end up there. So, because of the significance of the number three in Necromantic magic, I have three daggers. It's not necessary, but any magic I use with them will be amplified. I'm not sure what numbers hold power for other schools of magic, except for the Templar, and the only reason I know that is because I have a Templar friend.

Templar state that holy magic and the normal magic of Magi is one and the same, since Magi were created by the King, so they use their own innate magic to perform an unique type of holy magic. They also focus on combating demons, have several techniques to banish, exorcise, or otherwise destroy demons, and can pull off amazing tricks with the swords they constantly carry. My oldest friend, Liz, is a Templar.

Well, I'm not sure the word “friend” is accurate. I'm not sure a word exists that is. She is the greatest friend I could ever ask for, but she is more than that. She's one of the few other orphans at the Academy. Both of our parents were killed by vampires right after we were born. And, we have the same birthday. We're taught that coincidences don't exist, at least not for Magi, but it has always seemed a little bit too coincidental to me. I dunno. Maybe it's just me.

As I walk past the broken gate that used to be the entrance to the old school, I muse that I'm glad I already got Liz a present. I wasn't sure what to get, but our gifts are always practical ones, and we switch off each year. Last year, she got me a silver ring which gathers light, and can be released at will, maybe to blind people, startle them, or just to light an area up. I always wore it on my right hand. This year, I had made a cross necklace for her. I forged it from blood, moonlight, and bone, just as I had my daggers. It was a bit tricky getting her blood to use, since if I had used mine it would have been useless to her, except as jewelry. So I just asked her to work out with me one day, and made sure to press a bit more viciously than I normally would have. I waited until we were done (sustaining a few injuries myself) and collected the blood off of the dagger to use. Some of my own blood mixed in there as well, but I caught most of it and separated it, so it shouldn't have any major adverse effects. Besides, if it does, Liz will just come and try to throttle me while I'm sleeping, which will be a small hint that I did something wrong.

As I pass by the spot where Paul's body had lain I notice one small detail is out of place. It's gone. Chills tap dance up and down my spine. Someone or something had to have moved the body. I cannot see any marks in the dirt like it had been dragged off, so no help there. I let my right hand dagger drop down into my hand, and extend my senses. Nothing. Suddenly I feel a rush of air behind me and wheel around. Nothing there. But I was sure I had felt something move. I raise my hand up, and will power into my ring to call light around me. Which is when something moves again and bashes me on the back of the head. As I fall to the ground I am absolutely certain I am going to get eaten by a vampire. There goes my life. Then I fade out.

I wake up in darkness. But not magical darkness, just the plain ordinary darkness of night when there are no working street lamps around. I'm lying on my back, and I have a hammer bouncing around in my skull. So, being tough and heroic and everything, I immediately sit up. Or I try, get about halfway up, then fall back down. Now my head hurts more. Just what I needed. Well, I can tell the time. Night. How specific of me. I move my lips, trying to say something. I start with “Ugh...” which is all that I can get out for the moment. The headache is still raging, but I think I can sit up. Which I do, followed immediately afterwards by heaving my guts out onto the ground. After I'm done, I wipe my mouth on the back of my sleeve, and stand up. The headache is gone, at least. Looking around, I can tell I haven't been moved far. I'm still at the old school. I realize that no one knows where I am, and I wonder if they have sent a search party out yet. Heh.

Which is when I think of Liz, and what she is going to say when she catches hold of me. We were going to go out and get seafood tonight as a birthday celebration. Oops... Liz loves seafood. Maybe the vampire should have killed me. Reality suddenly hits me from out in left field. I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes. “By Azrael.” I mutter while grabbing at my throat desperately. But I can't feel anything, and I relax after a full inspection. I'm not a vampire. And I'm not dead. Both good things. Of course, the latter may change when I get back to school. Liz is gonna tear me apart. I start to take off at a jog, but common sense catches me for once, and I stop, opening my mind to the area around me doing a careful search, not wanting to get attacked again.

I get through the schoolyard and back onto the campus without any trouble, unless you count tripping once. I head over to the other side of the campus and into the dorm rooms, silencing my footsteps so I can move as silently as possible. I'm halfway down the hall when I hear someone coming. Someone who will be curious. It shouldn't matter if I run into him, but I'm too tired to deal with curious people right now. Besides, avoiding him might be good practice.
I stretch out and feel a Gatekeeper coming, and he has something with him, probably an imp. Whispering “Azrael, be with me.” I press myself to the wall and summon a minor cocoon of darkness over me. I hope this works. The idea is that with the lights out in the hall, the darkness covering me will make me invisible. The Gatekeeper turns the corner, and I don't recognize him. Good, he's new. But he does have a bound imp fluttering behind him, so he has some skill already. He walks past me, but the imp glances at me and for a minute I think I've been caught. But the imp follows his current master without giving me a second glance. I let the darkness drop, and move on.

About a minute later, I finally get to my room. Opening the door, I walk in and make sure to check behind the door. No Liz, which scares me a little bit. Something has to be wrong here. I start extending my senses just as someone drops from the ceiling to put a knife at my throat. “Hi Liz,” I say without turning around. “That's not a new knife, so I guess you're happy to see me?”. I have to amuse myself, don't I? “Where were you?” she asks. “You were supposed to be here hours ago!” “Umm...” I reply. “Can you take the knife away first? Please?” As soon as she complies, I turn around to talk face to face, and have a minor heart attack.

Not only is she dressed relatively regularly, in blue jeans and a t-shirt, but as a matter of fact, the only thing that looks vaguely unusual is the pair of gloves she is wearing. I recognize them. I had made them for her, and with them you could cling to walls and other surfaces, which explained how she had ambushed me. And worst of all, she has taken her strawberry-blond hair out of its customary braid. She never does that! Yeah, I'm gonna die. “Hi Liz.” I say lamely, for the second time. She frowns and folds her arms, still looking at me. “Right. Not helping me much.” I state. “Okay, the whole problem started...”. I tell her the whole story of how I got jumped by something that theoretically killed Paul as well.

When I am finally done, she looks at me for a second, then “Have you told anyone else yet? No, of course you haven't. I suppose I should take that as a compliment.” “Don't worry,” I reply, “I plan to tell Grave tomorrow morning. He should be told first, since one of his students was killed. I'm not sure what he'll say. But, off topic... I'm sorry I got back so late.” “Don't worry about it,” she says. “We still have time. Unless you had something else to do?” I sigh, knowing we are definitely going. “Fine,” I say, “Let's go.”

So, we go out and eat at a restaurant near the shore, walk around for a bit, and finally, at Liz's request we go to go see a movie. I don't really pay attention to the plot, since it was a pretty ridiculous story, about this kid who gets told he's a wizard and has to go off to a wizard school. Pretty funny, though I doubt it was meant to be a comedy. It may work that way for Magi occasionally, but most of us are raised Magi from birth, or we get killed by vampires before we learn anything about what we are. If only people knew. After the movie we come back to the Academy, I tell Liz good night, and I head back to my room and go to sleep, knowing tomorrow is gonna be a tough day.

Thud. I fly backwards into a barrier, causing an instant headache. “Ugh..” I moan, reaching up to rub my head. I look up to see the Elementalist walking towards me, and struggle to stand back up and fight. He raises his hand and air gathers into a solid ball in the palm of his hand. He shoves his palm out at me, the air darts forward... and hits a shield of solidified shadow that has appeared in front of me. The look of surprise on his face as his own power reflects back and hits him in the stomach is gratifying. Two Necromancers appear from the air next to me, and the Elementalist flees, one of them giving chase. The other, who I now recognize, gives me his hand and pulls me to my feet. “Nice moves there,” he says, grinning. “That was great acting, it almost looked like you were losing.” I grumble out something that probably could not even count for any language, then say “So tell me, Josh, am I that important? Most of us are here to save me.” He laughs, and replies “We were just in the neighborhood. Now hurry up, because you're right. We need you out there fighting.”

With a last laugh at watching me brush dirt off my robes, he jogs off and fades into the shadows again. This is the Game, a competition of the Academy played in the woods to the East. You win by being the last school of Magi standing. You can't die here because of the shields, but you can acquire some nice bruises, so it pays to be careful. Especially for Necromancers, because there are probably only about forty of us, all told. Most of the other schools have a lot more people, with the largest being Elementalists. They have about... a hundred and fifty? Unfair? You had best believe it. But, on the the other hand, we can be pretty sneaky when we have to, so we can still win. At least, if we attack guerrilla style and use the other Magi as a weapon. There are only about seventy Gatekeepers, but they have some summoned help, so they can be tough to take down. The Mindwalkers have about sixty, but they attack more subtly than any of the rest of us. And the group that is toughest to finish off? The Mystics, of course. They just keep up various wards of sight so they know where not to be and where all of the rest of us are. Incredibly annoying. But, in the end this is a relatively small battlefield for all of us to be unleashing energy at the same time.

“Arghh..” I groan as I take a step forward. I stretch for a second, then step forward into the shadows and draw them around me, blending in. I jog for a bit, hunting for a new victim, and I am obliged when I find a Templar also searching for an enemy. I creep closer, planning to ambush him, but then he turns around. His eyes are glowing like the sun, signaling the channeling of power, and he sees me. This is followed immediately by removing a greatsword roughly the size of a killer whale from his back and charging at me, plate mail shining like a diamond. Definitely not what I had planned.

I move behind a tree to use it for cover, palming one of my daggers. Of course, being a Templar, he takes his sword and carves right through the tree, barely missing me. I jump back and palm my other dagger, then launch a tactical retreat to prepare my attack as the tree thunders to the ground behind me. Great. Now everyone knows where to come for a fight. The Templar chases after me, and I know that if my plan fails I'm going to regret it. I just hope the enchantments on my boots hold. I dart at another tree, and keep running. Straight up the side of the tree, since I enchanted my boots to cling to objects in the same manner I did Liz's gloves. I get a couple of feet over his head when the Templar recovers from the shock and cuts straight through the tree, also bringing this tree to the ground. I crouch and spring backwards over the Templar's head, escaping with only a small cut on the arm when he brings that huge sword back around. I think it's time to butt heads, so I prepare myself as he wheels around and brings the sword up for a vertical cut.

I jump back as it comes down and slices to the side. He immediately reverses direction, slicing back at my chest. I pause for timing, and when it comes around I meet it with both daggers to catch it. If I were human, this would be absolutely crazy. But I'm a Magi. I stop the sword and we both stand there, straining against each other for the crucial balance which might decide this confrontation in the next move. Suddenly, we both feel the earth shake, and I know someone has found us. I and the Templar both attempt to jump back and out of the way. But we're both too slow, and get thrown aside as a line of power splits the ground between us, flinging us backwards. I struggle to catch my breath and sit up, to find that the Templar hit a tree, and appears unconscious, even with the armor. This is good.

The bad news is, the thing that created that fissure in the earth appears from the ground and starts coming closer to me. Take some clay and mix it with grass, than roll it up and shape it into a snowman. Now you know what an earth elemental looks like. Except this earth elemental was about a dozen feet tall. It... oozes towards me, than it starts shifting form, growing legs and losing the extra mud. This gives it a few extra feet to its already impressive height. I glance at my daggers, knowing this is probably going to be a long fight.

It continues walking toward me, and I do the most sensible thing. I turn and run, desperately trying to figure out how to destroy it. It lurches after me, and its huge strides eat up the earth. I'm funny, I know. I need to get higher, so I try my tree climbing feat again, running up one to get the height I need to attack the elemental's head. What I had not planned for, however, is the elemental just ripping the tree out of the ground. With me still stuck to it, the whole time knowing this won't end well.

The elemental rears back like a major league baseball player, and comes out swinging, trying to dislodge me. But my shoes stick to the tree, and all I do is get really dizzy. The good news is that the elemental can't reach me any more, and I am now in an excellent attacking position. The bad news is the first time I touch something more solid than air, I'll probably break something important. Maybe my spine. So, I attack, since I now have the height I need to reach the thing's head. I sprint down the tree at the elemental, swing to the right with my daggers, and cut straight across to the left, taking the head clean off. It collapses, dropping the tree and myself.

I hit the ground hard enough to severely wound my dignity, and the tree has fallen on my leg, so fire boils its way to my brain. I almost pass out, but barely manage to stay conscious. I lay there, fighting the blackness tearing at my mind. I'm not sure how much time passes before I return to my senses, but it has to be several minutes. I close my eyes and concentrate, trying to figure out how bad my leg is. I'm not absolutely sure, but I think it's broken. Just my luck.

So, I either do the smart thing, cloak myself in shadow and hope help comes, or I attempt to move the tree, which I most likely can't. And since I'm not that bright, I go with the latter course. Which is the perfect time for the elemental to stand up again, apparently only slightly fazed by my attack. I gape as it picks itself back up, then reaches down and tears earth up and places the dirt at its neck, where a new head forms. I return my daggers to their sheaths and raise my hands, hoping that perhaps one final attack will destroy this thing.

I draw in all of the freezing power of Necromancy I possess, and my blood turns to ice in my veins. My hands begin to glow with the dark aura that corresponds to the power of death, and shadows swirl around me. I stretch out my hands further, pointing them at the elemental, and feed all of my power through them. Darkness surges from my hands and darts with the speed of a gunshot at the elemental. It swirls into an endless loop spinning around the thing, and I can feel my power tearing at it, determined to make it stay dead. I watch as the darkness shreds at the elemental, the completely covers it in a blanket of night. Then, it suddenly stops, the darkness fades, and the elemental falls to the ground, returning to dirt already.

That may be one problem solved, but I barely have any power left at all, which means I am definitely stuck here, and I doubt I can cloak myself, either. I'm preoccupied with trying to figure out how to move the tree, if there is a way to move it, when I feel someone coming up behind me. I concentrate a bit more, and I know who it is instantly. Liz. I turn to face her and try for a wave, but I'm not quite in perfect shape, so I basically just flop my wrist around some.

She gets closer, and puts her hands on her hips, staring at me through her helm. “Um.. hi Liz,” I say “Our conversations seem to be starting like this more often lately. And yes, I got in a fight with a tree, but he started it. Oh, and his bite was a lot worse than his bark, FYI.” She groans at a joke that bad, which I had expected. I'm not really hoping for rescue from her, but I can be entertaining before I go out. “Well, you gave it your all, right?” she asks, starting to snicker at me. “That really hurts me,” I reply, struggling to put my hand over my heart. “I'm not sure I'll recover from that kind of emotional pain. Now will you please just beat me unconscious or something? This is starting to twinge.” I point at my leg. She sighs, then there is a sudden blur of movement, and darkness takes me.

In the end, the Guardians come out on top, with the Gatekeepers taking second, and the Elementalists third. Next, Necromancers, Templar, Mindwalkers, Mystics, Sorcerors, and Healers, in that order. I'm still sore, but the excitement I have for today scours that from my thoughts completely. Today all the newly aged seventeen year olds receive a personal mentor, an angel to aid them, in the custom of the Magi for millenia. It's an important ceremony, since you're paired more or less for life, and one which we all look to with anticipation.

We're in line by date of birth, so Liz and I are right next to each other, waiting for our names to be called so we can speak to our teachers and learn the name of our.... guardian. Liz gets called first, and goes into the next chamber. I wait for several minutes before I hear Grave calling me. I walk into a different chamber to find him awaiting me. Grave is huge, probably at least seven and a half feet tall, and very thin, which combined with the loss of skin coloration caused by Necromancy gives him the look of a skeleton.

He always seems dark, foreboding, and his eyes constantly seem to burn with disapproval. He scares me more than anything or anyone I have ever seen, but I know that if I live long enough, the Necromantic magic I use will make me look more and more like him. Magic does that to us, warps our physical bodies as we grow stronger and stronger, and each type of magic affects its wielder differently. A little bit scary. I walk up to him and bow slightly, then wait. “You have been partnered with a High Immortal called Storm.” he says in his hoarse voice, like his throat is coated with dust. And apparently that is all he has to say to me, since he just glares at me. I attempt to tell him about Paul, and he simply glares more. I promise myself I will tell him later, and walk away.

So, where am I supposed to meet...Storm? I head back to the dorms, thinking that maybe Storm will meet me there and wondering what he is like. Or she, I'm not sure, since I don't recognize the name. Not that it would matter, since I don't speak High Immortal, so I wouldn't be able to guess at the meaning. Even if that is High Immortal. I get back to my room, open the door, and walk in. I stand in the center of the room, looking around, but no one is there. So, when I suddenly feel like someone is behind me, I swing around and put my back to the door. There was no one there seconds ago, but now there is a figure in a dark robe standing next to my bed. He is about my own height, and completely covered by his black robe, boots, and gloves.

He appears to be waiting patiently until I finally ask “Are you Storm?”. After a second, he replies in a voice that shrieks of truth, “I am, and I am not. You would know me better as... Azrael.” With that pronunciation, my heart stops beating. About ten years later, it started again, and my mind was screaming itself hoarse the entire time. Azrael. THE Azrael. The Angel of Death, patron of the Necromancers, one of the most powerful beings in existence, was standing in front of me, declaring he had been partnered with me for the rest of my life. This has to be a joke worse than any I can come up with.

I swallow, summon up what remains of my courage, and speak up. Or, at least I try. The angel cocks his head and continues observing me. At least, I think so, since I cannot see his eyes or any facial structure at all. Within the hood there is simply darkness. I swallow again, and extend my senses slightly, to find absolutely nothing unusual. I sweep the room, but where Azrael stands there is no sense of power or energy, just a feeling of nothingness, or empty air, like any other part of the room.

I shudder, and Azrael finally speaks again. “Perhaps you should have been given more warning?” he asks, which gets me to shake my head and speak up.“Even if I had been told, I wouldn't have believed it.” I stutter out. “It is of no importance,” he comments. “However, this knowledge is; you have chosen to be a Necromancer, to walk the paths of knowledge which lead to power over life and death. It is a dark path you walk, and few suffer it willingly. You know the costs of what your power will be even now. Channeling Necromantic energy through your body will lead you more and more toward becoming as one of the dead. Your skin will whiten as to bone, and your body will waste away, leaving you resembling a skeleton. You have seen this in your own master. You wish to understand death, and I will guide you there, but remember always the strain your power places on you, lest you be consumed.”

I manage to nod, wondering what he is planning for me. Suddenly, he points to my bedside table and commands “Place your daggers here in a triangle, ensuring that the tip of each is facing the next.” I have no clue how he knows about the daggers, but do what he says, since I assume he does have some idea what he is doing. He seems to practically glide as he moves forward to examine them. He faces the daggers and holds out a single hand over them. His gloved hand briefly flares with a corona of shadow, then he passes his hand over the daggers and they glow white for a moment. He turns back to me, and says “Your craftsmanship was acceptable, but now I have blessed these for you. You will find them light as air itself, sharp enough to cut bone, metal, and earth alike, and I have also imbued each of the three with their own unique properties.

He hands the first dagger to me, which has been marked with a rune I am unfamiliar with, and appears white as bone. “This dagger represents the first destination for the soul, Heaven. It can be used to allow you to grow angelic wings of your own, but only for as long as you can channel the energy needed,” he explains. The second dagger he places in my hand has also been rune marked, is gray as rock, and when I look at him he explains “This dagger symbolizes the second destination of the soul, Tribunal. You will find that it will respond to your thoughts alone.” The third dagger is now dark as night, and the rune on it makes me feel slightly ill. “This dagger stands for the third destination, Hell. It will allow you a degree of control over flame, smoke, and shadow when used properly. You should also be aware, all of them will come to your hands at your call, and when you are more accustomed to their use, you will be able to move them through space at will.” he informs me.

“I am aware that you are already desiring to test these to their limits, so this is the very task I shall put you to. We shall speak again soon, and when we do, I desire that you have some modicum of control over these. However, you should remember one thing. These weapons are empowered by your personal spiritual energy. The stronger you are, the more potent they shall become. However, if you weaken, they shall do so as well.” That being said, the shadows cluster around him, and when they are gone, he is as well. “It seems my life is starting to look up,” I comment to myself as I fit my daggers back into their accustomed positions, wondering which to play around with first, and wondering most of all why Azrael instead of some other angel.

I head to the forest, deciding I will probably want some privacy. I pull out the Dagger of Heaven and twirl it around in my hand, flip it around behind my back, and catch it with my right hand. Time to see what THIS dagger can do. I focus on the dagger, staring at it while I attempt to seal off outside influences and distractions. I can feel the power in the blade, and slowly I manage to touch it. I pull energy from my body and send it into the blade, making it form a type of circuit, taking energy from myself and giving it to the blade so that it can be converted into wings. I feel what would be a click if heard aloud, a sign that the magic is working. I turn my head around to look over my shoulder, and discover I do indeed have... something emerging from my spine. But not the traditionally shown angel wings, feathered and white, but what appear to be constructs of light itself, bright and glowing white.

I test my mental hold over them, commanding a flap, and they respond instantly, making me feel less burdened by gravity. I return the Dagger of Heaven to its sheath hidden under my arm, and am fairly pleased to see that the wings remain. Good, I don't have to hold it while forming the wings. I try for a greater flap this time, and feel my wings respond, lifting me off the ground. Two feet, three, five... I go higher and higher, until I'm up about ten feet, where I try to hold my altitude. I keep flapping, and decide to try for some horizontal movement.

But how? I think of birds, but their wings are attached to their sides, not on their backs. Yet angels have always managed easy flight with back wings, so how do they do it? I try to control the direction the wings flap, turning them slightly to try and obtain horizontal movement. Slowly, I start gliding forward, and start trying to increase my speed. After a minute or so, I have enough control to be able to try banking, turning while moving, and finally, I try a dive.

I fly up about fifteen feet, then keep going, trying to get above the tops of the trees in the forest. I have no clue how high up I am when I get through the leafy barrier, rise up a few more feet, and hover, looking down at the forest, and further away, the buildings of the Academy. I lower myself a bit, and land on a branch I hope is large enough to hold my weight. It does, and I prepare myself for a dive.

I've tried diving in a pool before, and I guess that the principal is roughly the same. I try tucking the wings in a bit, and they respond, then I gaze downward, looking for a path relatively clear of branches. Thinking I've found one, I jump out, and shoot downward like an arrow. I let out a whoop, exhilarated, and try to increase my speed. Which is when everything goes wrong. One wing slaps into a branch sticking out to the side, ruining my balance and swinging me around. I lose my concentration, and my wings vanish. I start falling rapidly, knowing that I will definitely survive hitting the ground, but I will probably break a bone or two. I lunge out and grab a branch, which bends, then snaps back up, taking me with it. I grab hold with my other arm, and the branch breaks, unable to support my full weight.

I plummet all the way to the ground, where I barely manage to land in a crouch, before immediately buckling and taking a knee on the ground, my left ankle ablaze with pain. I hold it with one hand, using the other to prop myself up off the ground. I push the pain back for an instant, just long enough to feel the extent of my injury. And it turns out I have managed to break my ankle. I sigh, knowing the best way for me to fix it involves me getting hurt again, and the fact that I have never tried it before adds to my trepidation.

On your first day at the Academy, Grave will drive a knife into his palm and all the way through, with a totally calm look on his face the entire time, which makes it all the more terrifying. Some of the more squeamish students occasionally faint. Then, after withdrawing the knife, he causes the gaping wound to just seal itself up with the power of his blood, giving you your first demonstration of Necromancy. Sometimes I wonder if that might be one of the reasons Magi choose NOT to be Necromancers. I had just thought it was cool. Now, I plan to try and do the same.

I will the Dagger of Tribunal into my free hand, and it appears there with a small flash. I take control of it mentally, willing it out to the side, and hold my free hand out. I use the dagger to cut across the palm of my hand, and when the blood seeps out I move my other hand, and replace it with my bleeding one. As the blood covers my ankle, I summon energy, and use the technique which Grave only taught to me yesterday, to take the life found in blood and absorb it into my skin, then channel that same life to heal an injury.

I stand, testing the ankle, and it holds my weight reasonably well. I focus on my bleeding hand, drawing the blood there back in the palm, and sealing the cut, and it's even easier this time. I grin, and twist my hand around a bit, making sure I did everything correctly. Grave has warned us that if you do this the wrong way, you can cause serious harm to yourself by trying to heal an injury that still had whatever caused it in the first place still stuck in the wound. His example was that if you tried healing a gunshot without removing the bullets, you could possibly seal them inside yourself, causing serious harm or even death depending on where you had been hit. Everything seems fine with me, so I replace the Dagger back in its sheath and walk back to the dorms, laughing at myself all the while.