After a little wave from Enma, Claire’s seat turned off. Giving Enma a small bow, Claire jumped back into the gate Enma made for her. As she floated in the darkness, Claire let the weak pull of the skull on her pillow in Evaloti slowly draw her back.
Despite lacking any real need to breathe, Claire returned to her body with a sigh before sitting up and rolling her shoulders. Ever since moving to Evaloti, she had started picking up some very human habits again.
“I guess it’s about time.” That man was going to be there again today. Donning her cloak now thick with the scent of spicy food, Claire stepped out of her room.
With Evaloti’s population having ballooned, the city was still full of life even after sundown. Light spilled from the windows of houses, and the sounds of people eating and making merry filled the streets. Claire breathed in deeply. She felt like she could pick up a hint of that nostalgic smell of dinner in the air, though she had no sense of smell to speak of. Nor did she have any need to breathe. Claire’s lungs were merely bags of air with the sole purpose of making her vocal cords functional.
Walking down the main street, she headed for the usual spot, Bistro Three. After double-checking to make sure she had actually brought her purse, she stepped through the door.
“Hey there.” Just like always, she was greeted by the same man upon her arrival.
“Good evening. You seem to be in a good mood today,” she replied with a friendly smile.
She didn’t dislike this particular drunk, a man named Tafman. His bright smile very much reminded Claire of her now long dead father. As she was now, she couldn’t even remember her father’s face. Even still, she felt strongly that he was quite similar to Tafman. Just speaking to the man brought out all sorts of nostalgic feelings from her. It was like she was no longer a lich in training and was back to being just the daughter of a baker.
Unlike the other customers at the pub, Tafman wasn’t constantly ogling her. He treated her like she was his niece or something. When she listened to all his nonsensical ramblings, it felt like human warmth was forcing its way back into her artificial body.
“Because we’re here to celebrate! You always pay for me, but today everything’s on me!” Tafman said, ordering another drink and Claire’s favorite (as far as she had told him) viciously spicy dish.
“Oh? What’s the occasion?” It was too bad her pretending to eat was a waste of food.
“Today’s cause for celebration is the official grand opening of Raian Village!”
Claire’s breath caught in her lungs. She couldn’t say a word. It was as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped on her. Tafman’s carefree smile was entirely ignorant to what was going on.
“No...I couldn’t possibly,” she muttered. She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t tell him that the village had already been destroyed.
“Oh, don’t be like that!” Tafman laughed. “A bunch of my buddies from the City Guard are on their way. They’re all great guys. If you don’t mind, I’d like you to join us—” Running footsteps resounded from outside. “Oh, perfect timing!”
“Tafman! Are you here?!” The door of the pub slammed open, a black-furred dog beastfolk dashing inside, breathing ragged.
“What’s wrong, Dober?”
“Raian Village was attacked by a fiend.” A ripple went through the customers. Tafman’s expression immediately went tense. “One of the workers just came running back. They said a huge fiend attacked. Gusinus is trying to hold it off, so they came to get reinforcements.”
“That warbear again?” Tafman jumped to his feet.
“No idea. All we know is that it’s huge. The guy who came back passed out, so we couldn’t ask any more.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re going anyway. Good thing I didn’t start drinking yet,” he growled, leaving his drink on the counter. Clenching his fists tight, Tafman started walking off, not so much as giving Claire a look.
“Wait—” Claire stood up, calling out to him.
A warbear? Not even close. This was a manticore. No number of humans banding together could stand against that. Besides, the village had already been wiped out. Sending reinforcements now would only pointlessly get more people killed.
But Claire couldn’t say any of that.
“Sorry, Claire. We’ll have that drink when we get back.” Tafman turned back to give her a smile, handing a passing waiter his entire coin purse before running off.
“Be...careful...” All Claire could do was put on an awkward smile as she watched him leave.
Little by little, anxious conversations started up around the pub.
“Um...here’s your food,” a waiter said, bringing Claire’s food to the counter as she stood frozen. It was the viciously spicy dish she had pretended to be so fond of. The one Tafman had ordered specifically for her. Still fresh, steam rose from the dish, filling her with an empty feeling.
Idiot...
Claire grumbled to herself, weakly dropping back into her seat. She didn’t know who the idiot was, or what they did to make them so. Was it Tafman for rushing into danger without knowing what awaited him? Was it the humans for struggling so hard to survive, even though they’d inevitably die someday?
She took a bite.
Or was it Claire herself for pretending to be human and eating food she couldn’t taste or smell that she’d have to dump out of her stomach when she got home?
Well, I guess it’s fine. It’s not like him dying means we’ll be saying goodbye forever, Claire tried to encourage herself. All of them would die eventually. The only thing that changed was how it would come about. Whether they were killed by the denizens of the dark, eaten by fiends, or succumbed to sickness or injury, it really made no difference. And no matter which path they followed, they’d belong to Enma soon enough. The only question was whether it happened today, tomorrow, or some other day.
Maybe I’ll keep him, she gave a self-derisive laugh. Tafman was absolutely convinced she was a human girl. She could only imagine the face he’d make when she summoned his ghost. Would he call her a traitor, like that guardsman had? Or would he join her openly, raging against his untimely fate? If she told him she was trying to bring down the demonic kingdom, he might even cooperate with her.
“Here you are.” As if to interrupt her melancholic inner monologue, a waiter placed a small silver goblet filled with a thick orange liquid in front of Claire.
“What’s this...?”
“Tafman requested this cocktail specifically for you,” the waiter gave a meek reply. “He said you don’t have much taste for alcohol, but you seem to like citrus, so maybe a sweetened orange juice would be a better complement to your food. It’s also spiced to pair well with your dish. Please enjoy,” the waiter explained, staring with a worried look at the door where Tafman had left, before walking off.
Claire slowly reached out and picked up the goblet, swirling its contents. She sniffed it...but couldn’t smell anything. She took a mouthful...but couldn’t taste its flavor at all. This was only natural. Undead lacked a sense of smell and taste.
“Ah, that hits the spot! This is what life is all about!”
Tafman’s bright smile after downing his favorite drink filled her mind. Even if she picked up his soul after he died, would he accept her offer of the flavorless life of an undead?
Of course not. She never expected he’d willingly be her friend afterward, but now she was absolutely certain of it. And if he refused, her only options were to release him back into the spiritual realm to disappear, or to fashion his soul into a lesser undead. In other words, the Tafman she knew would be no more—never to be seen again. Just like her parents. Just like her childhood friend. The moment she had gained enough proficiency in Necromancy to try and call on their spirits, she had done so. But it had already been far too late.
Claire’s hand tightened around the goblet. The expensive silver vessel crumpled between her fingers, its orange contents spilling all over her hand.
The professor always said that necromancers had overcome death, but that wasn’t true. Death was always looming, always ready. Necromancers just had a few tricks to sneak beneath its notice.
“E-Excuse me, miss?!” a passing waiter exclaimed, noticing the destroyed goblet in her hand.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Claire snapped back to reality, wiping her hand before pulling out some money. “Thanks for the food. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it. Is this enough?”
“I-I imagine so... Boss!”
As the waiter ran off to get the hobgoblin manager, Claire donned her cloak and made her way outside. When she first came to the autonomous zone, she had almost responded on reflex to kill hobgoblins on sight. But undead bodies required a more direct will to move. As long as their minds weren’t clouded by overwhelming emotions, their bodies would take action with explicit instruction. But Claire crushing that goblet just now had been entirely unintentional.
Once outside, Claire started to head back to the castle...but after a few steps, she instead turned her attention to the city outskirts.
All I’m doing is taking a peek. That’s all, a peek. I’ll need to give the prince my report anyway, so seeing it with my own eyes is better than lazily hanging out in the castle, she convinced herself, slipping into an abandoned alleyway.