Faustine.

  Faustine blinked as she stared at the woman who'd even given birth to her, the world feeling as though it had suddenly been flipped on its head.

  Her mother was back from the grave.

  Her father had likely been sin in battle.

  Yet, she evidently had a new patriarch in her life, who was, as her mother had expined, the lord of the afterlife. O-or, that was to say, one of the afterlives.

  Right.

  She could handle this!

  The ‘being’ that she had summoned was—just another creature to make a pact with! This wasn't at all beyond her.

  “So, darling, while I do adore catching up with you, and we should definitely make an afternoon of it, perhaps with some tea, there is a somewhat pressing issue we need to deal with.”

  So saying, the body lying on Faustine's sheets abruptly twitched its finger.

  Oh—ohhhhh… yes… that would be happening, wouldn't it? With all the death magic from her mother, the process of reanimation was practically supercharged!

  The dangerous part? If it ever bit someone, all that mana it was soaking up would make a potential breakout so gods damned scary that it wasn't even funny... The dead would be popping up like flies.

  Quickly, Faustine moved to her mother’s grimoire, flipping through the pages until she found the spell that she wanted.

  Pausing to sense the density of magic that still filled the room, more an instinctive reaction than anything else, Faustine began coalescing the death-tinged mana that practically thrummed through the air in the wake of her mother’s reanimation.

  “A zombie?”

  “What?” Faustine demanded, gncing to the side and having to hold back an entirely instinctive jerk to see a grinning skull suddenly leaning over her shoulder, reading the tome with idle interest.

  “No, it's nothing, I suppose, carry on.”

  “No, what is it?” She, again, demanded, now gring at the skeleton as Faustine caught the ‘tone’ underlying her mother's commentary.

  Already, Franklin was beginning to twitch more and more, body abruptly lurching against his restraints as his slit throat let out a strained and bubbly groan.

  “Forty seconds, darling…”

  “I know the animation time for a zombie smothered in death magic!”

  “Then why isn't he enthralled yet?”

  “Because you made a point to come all the way over here and make a comment towards what I was doing.”

  “Oh, that…” Her mother ccked, jaw letting out a chilling click. “It’s just—zombie, really darling?”

  “It’s easy.”

  “They stink! Whatever are you going to do with him?”

  “I—I don't…”

  “Here,” Her mother groaned, flipping through several pages with practiced, albeit bony fingers, tapping on the one she stopped at with a lecturing tone, “Draugr! See the emaciated state of the body? They’re basically walking strips of dried jerky, and the process to make it really isn't much harder.”

  “I’ve never made a draugr! I’ve made zombies! M-maybe a few dozen ghosts, and skeletons, but...”

  “Faustine, daughter of mine, I was making wraiths from the kitchen staff when I was seventeen! Zombies, is that truly as far as you've come?”

  “Well—It’s not like I’ve had a teacher!”

  Her mother hesitated, gncing sidelong at her before letting out a small sigh, nodding her head with bemused understanding as her posture slightly defted…

  “Fine, you’ve made your point… Still—”

  “Mmmrrrmggmmm!”

  Both women stared at the reanimating corpse as it finally absorbed enough magic to complete the process on its own, gssy and lightless eyes now fixated on Faustine’s person as its jaws began gnashing, arms straining against the four-poster bed.

  “Oh, be quiet, boy, we're having a conversation here!”

  “Ugh… he’s already turned…”

  “So what? It's not as easy as manual reanimation, but domination should be—” Pausing mid-sentence, her mother, once more, gnced at Faustine who was staring right back at her, eyes lidded with open annoyance. “Oh… you don't know how to do that either, do you?”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “Not mine, young dy! I was dead!” Her mother ughed, batting her shoulder as she did so, “Clearly, you’ve been neglecting your studies.”

  “And exactly how is one supposed to study necromancy in the country while surrounded by suspicious bumpkins?”

  “Carefully, darling, isn't that obvious?”

  Faustine seethed as her now undead lover thrashed and groaned even louder, slowly working her panties from his throat in a most unsettling drooling and disgusting manner. Yeah, she’d be burning those before they ever made it near her dresser again…

  “I’ll just kill him and be done with it,” she grumbled, taking her knife and stalking toward the creature, bde rising without hesitation to pnt it in its jerking head.

  “Wait! Come now, ugh, don't be so snippy, I’ll show you how it's done. Honestly, sweetheart, with all the lingering mana from your ritual, it won't hardly be an effort! I promise!”

  Gncing back at the bleached ‘bitch’ who was smiling at her, Faustine considered the pros and cons of letting her ‘mother’ lend her a helping hand.

  On one side of the coin, Morganna was proving to be somewhat insufferable.

  On the other? W-well, the 'little girl' in her was, admittedly, somewhat giddy at the prospect of sitting down with her mom and having their daily lessons again.

  It had been a highlight of their childhood.

  Something—no, one of the only things she could look back upon with fondness when the despair of her current life felt to be too much to bear.

  “Fine…” She eventually muttered, gncing at zombie Franklin for a half beat before taking a measured step away.

  She reached down, picked up the nightgown she’d previously let the dead man strip from her, then glumly walked back over to her mother, who watched her with surprising patience.

  For a few moments, she didn't speak, simply regarding her daughter through her bzing eyes before she straightened herself, csping both arms behind her back and wandering closer to their subject.

  “Firstly, domination is less about ‘willpower’ as it is the raw force of magic. Because this young man is the first of his kind, and the bearer of the original curse, there is a touch more effort involved but—” Holding out her hand, the skeleton let it hover over Franklin's straining body, her mother not so much as saying another word as Faustine felt an abrupt ‘pulse’ through the thick yers of magic all around them.

  The source was clearly emanating from her mother's palm, yet, as Faustine came to terms with the fact that the woman needed no incantation or even reference toward what she was doing, the sudden ‘calming’ of the furious corpse hit like a heavy slug received to the guts.

  “How did you—”

  “Experience and practice, dear. As I said, there was a reason I was killed. Regardless, we can speak of such things ter, for now, pay attention, were you able to feel the resonance of my spell? There should be more than enough mana to sense it.”

  Nodding, Faustine licked at her lips, recalling the ‘signature’ and ‘pattern’ of ripples as they flowed through the air.

  Normally, she’d have never been able to notice them, her mana sensitivity was nowhere near that honed. Yet, with as dense as it was following her mother's summoning, Faustine could very easily follow ‘what’ her mother had just done.

  She’d always had a knack for magic, and her seeming incompetence, at least when compared to her mother’s opinion, was again, less because she was bad at the arcane arts, and more that she had nobody to teach her.

  All Faustine had was a book.

  And while she’d come a long way through dedicated study and what little experimentation she could get away with, a proper tutor or, better yet, master, was the difference between a self-taught swordsman and one who had spent his whole life under the thumb of a proper artisan of technique.

  There simply wasn't a comparison.

  Still, once she’d noted how her mother had done it, Faustine thought she understood what was happening.

  There was a bit of a disconnect as she really wasn't used to relying solely on her ability to manipute mana, but that didn't mean she couldn't replicate it, if she tried!

  With a snap of her fingers, her mother released her control, letting go of the zombie and the curse. The result being as immediate as it was violent!

  All at once, the zombie shifted from that of silent pcation to once more hungering for its killer's soft and youthful flesh.

  Without needing to be asked, Faustine approached the monster, holding out her hand, just like her mother. Then, she cycled the frigid chill of her magic, pushing it through her veins and toward her hand wherein she gave it a small ‘pulse’ in an attempt to match that which had come from the skeleton.

  Her silent spell rippled through the air, distorting the chaotic death-mana that still lingered with nowhere to go.

  Magic could not dissipate with any noteworthy speed. Nor could it be destroyed, merely absorbed, dispced or again, slowly transformed by the ambient mana that surrounded it.

  It was a close attempt—very, very close, yet Faustine knew immediately that she'd made a small mistake. That was fine, she knew where the issue was and was confident she could fix it!

  However, that didn't mean the misfire was without consequences, and unfortunately, unstructured 'wild magic' could be of the most disastrous sort.

  Carrying along the wave of her botched attempt, ‘sparks’ to emerge! Filling the air with fshes of backfiring magic that rose higher and higher until, horrifically, the thatch ceiling of her room caught fme and began to burn…

  A swell of panic emerged in Faustine's stomach as her eyes grew wide with concern, her room quickly igniting in a brilliant bloom of fmes that began stretching across the ceiling with hungry flickers!

  Yet, the small ‘tsk’ that arrived from her mother’s skull was enough for Faustine to momentarily forget about the fmes and gre at her matron with open incredulity.

  “Close, but your ‘intent’ was incorrect.”

  “How?” Faustine demanded, fingers twitching as her spell continued to fizzle, breaking down into raw magic that only fed the above fmes and brightened them. “I did exactly what you did! A-almost at least...”

  “Sure, the practical was fairly accurate, you get points for that, darling. However, is this the first time you've ever attempted a freeform spellwork?”

  W-well, so what if it was? Faustine wasn't a ‘master’ by any stretch of the imagination, just a very talented amateur! One who was good at cycling her mana and using it.

  “Ugh, try speaking your will aloud, magic is as much skill as purpose, after all. It’s a crutch to true sorcery, dear, but for the time being, it's better than failure…”

  “Failure?”

  “Yes, failure.”

  “I didn't fail!”

  “Is the zombie-boy under your thrall, or isn't he? Also, sweetness, your room is on fire...”

  “I did exactly as you did!”

  “Then by all means, order your minion to stop thrashing about and lusting after your meat. And while you're at it, have him go fetch a dozen buckets for us…”

  Faustine hesitated, gnced down at the zombie that very much wasn't under her control, then sighed, hanging her head slightly as she gave in and spoke the words aloud, offering the spell a mnemonic incantation to ensure her desires were ‘properly’ imparted with her magic…