The sorcerer took one final look at the ingredients in the black pot in front of him. He only doubted himself for a moment before turning to stare at the corpse of his lover lying naked on the sofa behind him. His main specialty was necromancy. It was a gift he had never felt the need or even the desire to use before.
He had a reason now to use it. His Cassandra was gone. He knew he should never have loved a mortal. They’re so delicate and die too easily. The strongest of them only seem to live a hundred or so years.
He could bring her back though. He would bring her back; even though it could only ever be a one time thing. Her fragile body would break easier than her mortal body had when she had stumbled and fallen off the cliff. It was that one unexpected gust of wind…
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