Across perilous hills within the deep black of a forgotten land, stashed within the ragged rocks water lapped at the cave’s entrance. It elongated deep and winding. The light played at the edges but dare not enter. Frightened at what might rise forth and pull them under. A lone figure consumed in bulky untenable robes stood at a nicely maintained dock.

  The dock did not lead out into the predatory ocean it was focused within. Ocean water rose and fell, rising up to cover the full yawning portal. Only during low tide did the location become accessible. Now the dock was dry, cleaned of debris. Small fish-like humanoids no taller than someone's hand scattered about the dock.

  Yunwi Tsunsdi had long since called the entrance home. Their people were thriving since the Hermit had moved in. With gusto they prepared the boat. Small smiles flashing about their faces. The Grandmaster had stayed with them for an hour reminiscing. To the great sadness of the small spirit-like creatures, all good things must come to an end.

  His gaze passed once more over the small village carved delicately into the rock. Pools within the homes connected to deep pockets that went all across the area's bay. A young one was likely out playing pranks as their parents worked away at the dock. With a promise to talk once more upon exiting the boat lurched forward into the dark.

  An abyss consumed the vessel. Drifting forward slowly methodically. With a tap from an outstretched staff, oars churned in the water onward into the everlasting dark. From deep folded cloth a lantern was produced and hung on the small boat's masthead light pole. Sparks flickered scattered and then finally, blazed to life.

  The cavernous pit stretched and stretched. Edges of such a behemoth, intangible to the lanterns light. Time became meaningless and the Grandmaster took a seat. Lantern light pushed out against the invading darkness but it was not enough to stave off its approach. It whipped about as writhing snakes lurching and scheming at the edges of the boat. To gaze upon the far walls was to look into oblivion.

  At last over yonder within the inky blackness a lantern beckoned. Another small dock illuminated by the light acted as the last guide post. The crashing waves of darkness grew stronger and the Grandmaster stood. Taking to the bow and bracing against the chopping waters.

  Once in range the boat lantern painted the cave into full light. Darkness receded as the vastness of the space took hold. Hundred foot walls, towering cylindrical pillars that went out within the dry land. Far above tens of thousands of sharp teeth like stalactites hung precipitously down. Anyone could render a tank into small fragments.

  From the dock a winding cobblestone path paved the way to a walled cottage. Outside of the cobblestones a deep reddish black stone covered the barren ground. Only nestled within the outlying walls of the cottage did verdant life grow. The Grandmaster disembarked and took the path with familiar steps.

  The door to the wooden cabin was large and banded in iron. A knocker with the face of a howling wolf waited patiently for its first guest in ages. Panting in its anticipation. With long patenting thumps the Grandmaster obliged its begging.

  *THUNK THUNK THUNK*

  The wolf was fulfilled as the loud sounds echoed off the distant walls filling the landscape. At the furthest reaches of the cave it turned into a howl that reverberated back. The cacophony of sound was short lived as the door peeled open it was cut off.

  “Well, Well, Well, When you said you were coming to visit an old man like me. I thought you would take more than a year. Come, Come in.”

  The man was shriveled from age, voice rough like papyrus and gravel. The quick steps and fast hands in taking over the Grandmasters staff showed he was still spry for his age. Within a breath they had been moved to the tea room. The circular wooden table churned and small saucers clicked up and into place. From the center a host of thin mechanical arms dealt out a cup and filled it with a brim to steaming hot tea.

  “Two sugars, yes?”

  “For now.”

  They sat down as the arms went about their work. The Hermit's old eyes watched at the spindly things dealt out the cubes of sugar with stratification. Taking a small sip the Grandmaster placed the cup back down with a pleased smile.

  Despite the rough cabin exterior the room was well furnished. Painting whipped around and churned. Images enchanted with tortured souls. Kept locked there for till the heat death of the universe, or their burning. Solid wooden panels made up the walls' fancy aesthetic.

  “What’s with this bulk you're carrying? Still not going to show your face?”

  “Ah, you are correct. I have grown so accustomed to it that I seldom remove them now.”

  Standing the bulky robes all fell away sloughing off as a snake's skin. With a final wiggle the Grandmaster was free. A tight dress hugged a feminine figure around late 30’s early 40’s thin and with large glowing eyes. Her hair was worse for wear as its thick blonde course locks exploded out of the clothes.

  The pile of clothing coiled into each other and then folded down into a small sash. Slender fingers plucked it from the ground and tied it neatly across the arm. Now an accenting bow down from a mountain of cloth.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “A woman this time?”

  “My last body was sadly slain whilst I was busy inside my Spirit house. I had to pick this one up and stitch it back together. It was the freshest that Doctor White had. Sadly it was quite devastated.”

  “The cause?”

  “Car crash. Not sure why but it had great compatibility. I think I’ll keep to it for the time to come. The spiritual threads within its flesh are of the highest quality.”

  “And the one who rendered you into such a state?”

  Pausing the Grandmaster took a long drink of tea. With a wave of her hand a woman appeared behind her. Folded spider legs clung close to her back as she produced a comb. Long delicate fingers reached out and unfurled the mess of the Grandmaster's hair.

  “He is long since dead. Is what I would like to say. An old pupil had tracked me down whilst my Apprentice was away. An inconvenient turn of events. Luckily my research was not disturbed.”

  “An old Pupil? This is why I keep it in the family.”

  The Grandmaster crinkled her nose at the man. She had a long list of current and distant relations. Though most of her children had succumbed to old age at least a few were still alive and kicking. One or two were attending the academy. As for the old man he had no children, let alone a wife.

  He had from time to time made light of her families. Often calling them genetic dead ends. It was not a topic to bring up in good spirit, even worse still when the mood is sour. Thus, she was confused at the old man's insinuation.

  “Don’t believe me?”

  “I didn’t know you could adopt at your age. Or did you finally get the guts to go for the Lady of the Night? She has been pursuing you for sometime. Even down here she keeps watch, how jealously she keeps tabs on you.”

  “BAH, I and that old hag? I couldn’t, she’s a lady, I’m just some nobody. From where she sits at the top of her coven, I might as well forget it.”

  “Then you have slowly been whittled away by her advances? I knew a time that you wouldn’t touch that topic at all without a fight.”

  “Well, I guess she was helpful when it came to making a family.”

  “Family again, huh. You are teasing me with your meaning. Must I ask directly or will you be polite about it?”

  The Old Hermit smiled devilishly. A book floated over from the other room. It slipped out from under a great number of the other books and papers. Crashing and breaking sounded out as it landed heavily upon the table. The cover was leather and showed heavy signs of usage. Across the front was “Promethius”.

  “I built them you see. Took more than a hundred years and a bit of help from the fine smelling Lady of the Night. But at last they live. I am not quite satisfied with the emotional regulator, as of yet they keep acting too much like a normal human. Shouldn’t they just listen to their father? Ah, woe is a man such as myself. I’ve grown too old to raise a child.”

  “Fine Smelling?”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Then where did you send them off too?”

  The Grandmaster picked up the book and leafed through it. The symbology and old textual references full of meaning. It was research that was not just a culmination of one hundred years but thousands. She wondered about the Hermit’s true age, his being a part of the world only began around her own lifetime. His history was likely older then any other living, save for the Lady of the Night.

  “Their mother claimed custody. Can you believe that? She said I wasn’t right in the head. Pulled out a good chunk of my programming. What a waste. Now you’ve come for my research, correct?”

  “Yes, I need it as payment.”

  “For the Doctor? It seems you have taken a liking to this new apprentice.”

  “Wayne does good work, I wouldn’t call him new.”

  “Did I say Mr.Sauvage? I meant the one you took on and traded to embolden with the use of that book.”

  A hard look passed from the Grandmaster to the Hermit. Stern and twitching. If not for being deep within the Hermit’s own home she might have taught him a lesson for a time. He might be old and filled with knowledge but she was not one to be trifled with.

  “Have you been dabbling within my experiment?”

  “Oh, please, who would step even a toe into the working of Fortuna. No, I have ears, and the wind carries those whispers of the heart. From the way you act you know not why you defend the boy. How amusing, all those years and you still are blinded by your experiments.”

  “He is of no consequence. I have simply done my duty as a master. The treatment of my students is equal and fair.”

  “And of family? No, don’t answer that. What do you offer me for this book? I can tell you now that these are only my old notes. I wouldn’t let slip the way to create life so easily.”

  Both took deep drinks. Fortuna was unhappily staring at the old man. Did their past workings mean so little, in the grand scheme of his life it was a possibility. It was foolhardy to assume any Necromancer would truly keep to their word, if not bound in a contract. The Grandmaster did not answer for a long time.

  “Well, I am looking for a family.” The old man prompted.

  “You made one.” She retorted with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yes, but I want grandchildren. You know before I pass away, I’d like to pinch their chubby cheeks, take measurements on their spiritual roots. Grandfatherly things.”

  “Are you asking for one of my daughters' hands in marriage? Is that what this has all been about? I can’t control what they do let alone who they marry.”

  “Yes, yes, I know that. They aren’t your apprentices for a reason, so that you can’t be made to bargain with their lives. A brilliant method with your moving bodies. Truly a way to keep them protected at all angles.”

  “I might be willing to hand over an Apprentice if that's what you want? They will still never be under your thumb but I don’t know how well they will turn out.”

  “Oh, my dear old friend. I was hoping you would say that. Here place your name on this contract. I can’t wait for the two of them to meet.”

  “I won’t force my pupil into this. I shall only give the opportunity. It is only fair.”

  “Not the best result, but an acceptable outcome. Dinner?”

  “Gladly.”