After the war the state of most if not all cities had suffered. The once glamorous glass buildings couldn’t withstand the brutal conditions a protracted war placed upon the populace. Older buildings often fared only slightly better given their lack of intuitive design. New trends often overcorrect for the horrors of the past. Yet, in the post war age the lacking works of art and massive devastation called for correction.

  Renzo Alberti was on the forefront of this new rise of design. Taking from the neo-futuristic style once lauded as the future he mixed it with gothic and Romanesque features. His goal undoubtedly was to revive the lost art forms blending them into nature. The movement has seen an explosion of red brick, arches, and a blending of nature.

  Nate was from a small town which given its placement had survived relatively unscathed from the war. It was not lost on him the magnificence that such modern cities might bring to the world. ViewVille was just such a place within his mind. If Karah hadn’t been scolded twice and in a rut she might have teased him as they traveled through the city proper.

  Large arching red brick skyscrapers fused their limbs into massive trees. These trees had been a recent biological breakthrough relating to the war. One such building they passed was similar to one Allison had shown Nate. Two double arches made up of apartment buildings with a grafted tree slotted down the middle. The accompanying face of the arches feature large balconies and a smaller cone shaped look out tower.

  Marveling at the sights and wonders Nate was convinced a store here would have to be one of immense opulence. Each question he would ask his master about the location was quickly shot down. The man seemed to ponder deeply about how they might best use the living soul they had obtained.

  It wasn’t long before the car pulled into an empty lot. What faced them was a squat ugly single story red brick building. This bricked fa?ade was an obvious ruse to the brutal concrete that lay within. Looking to his teacher Nate feared that they had found their destination.

  “Is this the building?”

  Wayne responded by pointing to the sign that hung from the roof on metal chains. One side drooped lower than the other letting it swing back and forth. It read “Tyrant’s Curios”. The fading red paint had a rushed and rough look. Still Nate could feel the fluctuations of power wafting into the air.

  “Listen well. While we’re inside the store you’ll need to keep your head down. At least until it's time for you to step up.”

  “When would that time be?”

  “You’ll know. Another thing you’ll want to keep in mind is that the guests here are all dangerous. I’ll do most of the talking. Agreed?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  As the two approached the glass double doors Nate peaked at the cracked window which was the only other adornment on the front of the building. Just beyond a small break in the glass he could see inside. Bare cement met his eyes, the light of day flooding in from a decrepit roof. Before he could mention the discrepancy the door swung wide open.

  In the doorway a diminutive man with large wire framed glasses. His clothes were a basic white button down with dark brown slacks. He gave a small bow as they passed him. Clutched in his hand was a plastic bag that glowed with swirling red miasmic energy. Wayne paid the man no heed.

  The store unfurled before the two of them, slackening Nate’s jaw. A single table dominated the center of the room, large and circular in nature. Placed upon the table was an equally large magic circle and cage. A beast so common in myth that it felt to Nate a given to its existence. At the same time he had never in the time since knowing of spirits to the time of becoming a Necromancer thought it to be real. A Dragon.

  It was nearly the size of a regular car filled with blazing scales that shimmered in the light. A lazy head eyed the new occupants. Slow double eyelids flicked one after another. It took a moment given its six eyes. Nate thought that this must be why the store was called Tyrant. Though the effect was lacking as the thing was clearly inactive.

  The rest of the store was less of a spectacle. Rows of shelves were densely packed and filled with everything a person from the nightmare world of monsters and spirits could require. Signs hanging from the ceiling pointed down the various corridors. Tomes, Bones, Skin, and Fare Maidens. Seeing the last one he gave his teacher a questioning eye.

  “It's mostly empty now. Not that there aren’t any but there is a lack of spells that need such an item. If you're interested we could purchase one. They're on the cheaper side.”

  Nate was unsure if his teacher was being serious or simply making a joke. For his own sensibilities he shook his head in the negative and told himself it was simply a joke.

  Another point to be made was the lack of staff. A single counter was positioned just beyond the dragon. Among the litany of odds and ends scattered on the counter was a skull in a place of importance. Purple lines crisscrossed its surface which most probably formed a magic circle. Possibly it was something similar to the Oni skull that Nate had nearly come into possession of.

  “Browse the wares while I handle the introductions. It’s been sometime since I was here. Would be for the best to greet my old acquaintance. I’ll call for you when it's your turn.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Nate didn’t wait for Wayne to disappear to the counter instead he locked onto what he needed. One of the largest signs pointed down a row of creaking shelves. “Sprits” It was just the place his master wanted him to go. The fact that it led through a majority of the other isles was pure coincidence or to drive sales.

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  As he went along each shelf held a new and dangerous course of items, concoctions, and monsters. Just as he came across a junction where a sign split off pointing to “Wands” a small pink fluffy creature flew out at his face from a shelf. His reaction speed was slowed given his state of wonderment but that didn’t mean everyone was being negligent.

  Lupita’s sharp fangs formed from the tip of Nate’s drooping hat. Cascading down as a knight's visor slamming the creature into the layer of defense. The small puff ball twirled in the air before slamming heavily into the ground. Nate jumped back down the corridor making sure not to break anything on the shelves. The creature lay still, unmoving.

  Tentatively he grabbed it by what he approximated to be its head and lifted. A generally human shape with bright pink flesh to accompany its long overflowing magenta hair. Nate had as of yet learned about the majority of the creatures within the world but it looked as much of a fairy as one could imagine. Down to the small wings on its back.

  “Pixie.” Karah’s sullen voice was mixed with annoyance.

  “How can you tell?”

  “I accidentally threw a bastard into a nest one time. Damn things kept stealing my shoelaces for a month. Didn’t help that they can go invisible.”

  “I see.”

  The unconscious thing didn’t worry Nate all that much. It was probably as much a product in the store as anything else. Still he did feel bad that it was knocked unconscious even if it was its own fault. The shelf that it’d sailed away from was covered in fish eggs of all kinds. Obviously not where such a creature belonged.

  Figuring it couldn’t hurt he brought the little things along as he traveled once more toward the distant spirits. There was a clear lack of labeling happening with the surrounding shelf spaces. It was laughable to him when he passed a row that simply said skins. A jumble of hides lay there unmarked and without any rhyme or reason behind them. He put the sight of the all too human ones out of his mind as he reached his destination.

  Two long racks flanked a small stand that sat in the middle of the widened corridor. It was only now that he realized that his journey would have to have been further than the store was across from the outside. He was positive that the place was in some odd pocket dimension or they’d used a teleportation portal.

  Small brass plaques line the sides of the shelves denoting clearly and briskly the grade of each spirit that the space housed. Starting oddly before grade zero. Grade zero was already the most basic of spirits even more so than the ones occupying his basement. The first shelf instead simply denoted that they were unknown.

  The store employed small palm sized bottles to keep each of the spirits. On the UNK shelf there were a plethora of empty looking bottles alongside spirits that were emaciated. Their very essence was running dry, soon they would pass on or disappear entirely. He quickly moved on from this shelf.

  The opposing sides of the selection had paralleling grades. Nate decided to hold off briefly on browsing those he’d find in line with his level of power. Instead he closed onto the small table. It was clearly a display and not knowing the best spirit or how to really be choosy he opted to view what was being recommended.

  The table held only five spirits. Each rested upon a finely carved ornate base that separated them into their own levels. A visual representation to coincide with their real placement of power. There was no grade zero here let alone the unknown.

  The first was a grade one. Normally spirits would appear in their original forms to a certain extent. Possessing a natural subconscious inclination to reform how they were in life. Naturally this could be worn away with time or if they were being affected by a spirit of greater power such as in the case of Lupita’s family. The small person's shape was in proper order but he was pitch black like tar, eyes forming into deep white spirals.

  A step up was a grade two spirit. This one looked more normal, a man in his fifties with graying hair and tweed suit. An easel rested within the glass bottle alongside the man. Paints and brushes rested in place as he eyed his observer clearly on break from his recreation.

  Grade three brought about a change. At this grade the shape and ability became more defined. Any uniqueness seemed to be amplified and doubled upon the spirit. This one was a refined version of the ogre that Nate had seen Dr.White exterminate. Both heads now possessed long beards and youthful faces. The only distinction being one was a blood red and the other a deep sea blue. A large metal studded club grasped firmly within their hands.

  By the fourth Nate began to fear he’d not be able to tell which would suit him. The need to rely on Wayne’s discerning eye would be key. This one was of a girl in a dark purple dress. The dress was a combination of military uniform and ballgown. At that moment she spotted Nate’s appraising gaze and she kneeled down palms out in praising motion that baffled him. Her action made him look closer at her tag. It was brief and rushed as if the person couldn’t be bothered.

  “Grade three? One of Two.”

  His words brought the girl back up to her feet, where she indicated the spirit within the next glass bottle. The bottle was different from all the others he’d seen. Delicate patterns ringed the outside, clearly an added layer of protection. A grade four tag hung limply from the cork which was sealed tightly with a metal pinning system.

  As for the contents of the bottle another woman stood within. A crown of purple flowers ringed her head before raining down into a long elegant gown. She stared definitely at Nate before seeing the pixie still gently caressed in his hand. Her eyes narrowed at the creature with suspicion.

  “It hurt itself so I’m just carrying it till it wakes up.”

  Nate clarified for the spirit. Unsure why exactly he was explaining himself. Her judgmental gaze just seemed too harsh not to speak under. The crowned woman looked gently upon the creature within his grasp. A bright translucent energy surged about her as she placed a hand against the glass.

  “Well, that's not something you see very often. A heart warming sight indeed.”

  A voice rich and deep came from behind Nate. It was not any that he knew, especially for one that seemed to spill over with friendliness. Turning round he spotted another customer the first of which he’d found within the store. He had to crane his next slightly up to get a clear look at him.

  The man even taller than Nate was closing in on seven feet if not exceeding it. A lean muscular body was hugged by a tight fitting compression shirt, large nearly oversized brown cargo pants, and a long black cloak. He didn’t have to bend as much as he normally did to look down at Nate. A single beauty mark under his left eye which was shaded along with his face by his hat. It was a long wide brimmed Quaker hat with a curved top. A single hole was cut out off the left side. From that same hole a large black furred ear poked softly out. Following the ear down Nate found the man's long black hair blended into and disappeared into the folds of his cloak.

  “Greetings young necromancer. You may call me The Black Hand.”