//------------------------------//
// Chapter 20: Memories of the past 
// Story: Souls Apart 
// by GnollReader 
//------------------------------//

When Celestia entered the necromancer's quarters, she found him sitting in his armchair, occasionally letting a small cloud of smoke escape his mouth as he smoked his pipe.

"You smoke?" she asked with surprise.

"Yeah, yeah..." he waved a dismissive hand with a sigh, "I know it's forbidden here, but it's my last batch anyways and it helps me stay calm."

"It is not forbidden by law." Celestia shook her head, "It is merely highly frowned upon since it is bad for your health."

"Right..." he huffed, "I have a feeling that letting you inside is going to be much worse for my health anyhow."

Celestia frowned, "What would make you think that?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Because you're here to destroy me? Or at least imprison me..." his face became contemplating, "But I am neither going to be put in another dungeon nor on the moon if I have a choice in the matter."

The necromancer stood up from his seat and flexed his hands with a tired sigh, "So lets get on with it. I'll be sure to put on a good show for your subjects downstairs, thunder clouds, evil battle cries... maybe even an explosion or two..." he smiled, "Yeah... I'm all about explosions. But when you do burn me to ashes, could you at least not aim for the face?"

Celestia stared at him with confusion, "Why would I do something like that?"

He frowned, "Because I blew up half of your castle?"

She shook her head, "No damage was done that can not be repaired. Did the little one not already tell you that I am only concerned for your wellbeing and only wish to talk?"

"My wellbeing?" he watched her with surprise, "Celestia, I don't know if you noticed but..." he was interrupted by shouts from outside.

"Drop me down ya vermin!" a voice could be heard hollering from outside.

"Pretty hat. But pony should take more care of hair, could be much prettier. Like white pony over there. Has most pretty hair Tobie has ever seen! Is perfect!"

"Why, thank you very much. A mare does have to make certain to look appropriate everyday. May I ask, what you would suggest we do with Applejack's mane?"

"Damn darn it, Rarity! Don't give him tips! Get me down!"

"Tobie has blue ribbons, also red and green... maybe curls too? Tobie likes curls..."

"Yes! Those would look fabulous!"

"For crying out loud, are you all insane?! Get me my sword so I can chop his head off!"

The necromancer groaned, "One moment, be right back."

He walked towards the window and poked his head out, "Tobie! You're supposed to keep the paladin busy, not play with the locals!"

"Yes, father."

"Then get to it. Luna and Twilight, that hand is going to stick a finger up a very indecent place if you continue to glare at it like that! Play nice, or leave it alone!"

The necromancer pulled his head inside with a sigh, "He's a good boy but he tends to lose focus... maybe I shouldn't have removed his brain." he turned back to Celestia, "Where were we again? Oh, yeah. You were about to kill me." he held up a hand, "Alright. Let me get in the situation... What pose should I strike on my last moment? Vengeful?" he shook a fist in the air, "Shocked?" he made a surprised face, "Or should I..."

"For the last time, I am not here to kill you!" Celestia interrupted him with a glare, "I only want to talk with you."

"Huh... really? No explosions?" he looked a bit disappointed before giving her a suspicious look, "What would we talk about?"

"I want to know what happened." she stated with a caring voice, "What made you lose control like that?"

He sighed heavily and slumped into his chair, "Just a bad dream. We all get those from time to time..."

"Not like that I am afraid." Celestia replied as she took a seat on a cushion, making sure to move it a bit to the left, "Even I have bad dreams, but I have never seen anyone panic from one like that."

"Clever, you remember where I put the trapdoor." he chuckled.

"I do. Now tell me, what did you dream about?"

The necromancer rubbed his temples, "Do we really have to do this?"

She nodded with a stern gaze, "We do. It is important for me and even more important for you."

He leaned back far into his chair and closed his eyes, a small trail of smoke escaping his mouth, "It was something from my past. Something I hoped I had left behind me." he turned to her with a sudden smirk, "If you'd have to guess... What kind of people do you think my parents were?"

She frowned, "Your parents?" she thought for a moment, "Judging by your skills in spite of your young age, I would suspect that they were very devoted to your education and social status. Thought it seems they were a bit too strict, which would explain your childish behavior. Was your father a mage as well?"

"My father..." the necromancer's face and voice suddenly turned so cold that Celestia felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck, "He should pray that the two of us never meet." the seriousness disappeared from his face and was replaced by a smile, "And you're wrong, my parents were the exact opposite."

He leaned forwards in his chair, his fingers crossing over his lap, "My mother, was a prostitute."

"What?" Celestia asked with shock.

"She worked in an old harbor brothel with at least ten other girls like her. She was young, and naive... but she was kind. I don't know who my father is, and I don't really care. I grew up as a bastard child in that place under the caring eyes of prostitutes. It wasn't really a place to grow up, but they were kind to me... and I learned a lot more about how the world works than I could have anywhere else." he chuckled, "You know, how to tell real affection from illusion... how to work with money and how to handle a knife if a customer doesn't pay up."

He saw Celestia's mortified expression, "You're surprised?"

"More shocked than surprised, if I am honest. How did you learn to use magic in a place like that?"

The necromancer leaned backwards again, "When I was five... or six? No, it was five... When I was five, I started to show signs of talent..." he waved his hand through the air, a soft glow following the fingertips, "It was merely a mixture of instinct and desire that allowed me to do a few simple things. It started with floating toys, things being pushed back or forth... and wilted flowers coming back to bloom..." he sighed, "My mother loved it so much when I did that. It always made her smile."

"She and the girls realized I had talent. But talent needs to be guided, so they collected money without my knowing for three years, taught me how to read and write..." he scratched his head, "I think one of them was a teacher before she changed her profession... So they saved what little they had, until they had enough to send me to the capital and to the mage guild."

"That was very kind of them." Celestia commented with a smile.

"Yeah... but kindness alone doesn't always cut it, I'm afraid. Like I said, my mother was kind, but naive." he puffed his pipe, "When I arrived, the mages were shocked, and scared. A mere bastard boy without royal blood or a name for himself already showed more understanding and instinct for magic than the whole lot of them. Being a mage was a prestige only reserved for the rich and royal. If some lowlife like me would be allowed to best them, how would that make them look?"

Celestia eyed him with growing concern, "What happened?"

"What do you think? They called me a charlatan and threw me out, after taking my entrance fee of course, mind you."

"That is terrible..." Celestia started.

"You tell me. So there I was, a kid without money in the big city. No way back, no goal to head towards to... and you know what the real painful thing was? I had failed to show the world what I could do... to show my mother I was worth the effort." he placed his pipe on a small stand, "So I became a street kid... Wasn't that difficult, I already knew how to handle a knife, after all."

Celestia eyed him with sorrow, "But what about your magic?" she silently prayed that there was a happy end to the story.

The necromancer frowned, "When the nights are too cold to sleep, you have to keep your mind occupied. So I practiced on what little I had." he smirked, "And if there is one thing that there is an abundance of in big cities, it's rats. Dead rats, to be precise. They became my toys, and then my tools. First I merely controlled them directly, but with time and study, I learned to bring them back to life."

He chuckled, "Turned out to be pretty difficult to make them move on their own, but I figured that out too. I started to send them on burglar runs, even got myself a little hideout in the sewers so I could continue my studies undisturbed. At some point, I learned how I could use them to gather information. I could look through those dead little eyes, and see what they saw. And you know what?" he smiled, "I sent them to the mage guild."