Chapter 10

“Berus.” Silas called into the crowd, waiting as a dark figure emerged from the crowd, a black aura surrounding him.

I lifted my head slightly so that I could see him, this large cloak covering a hunched frame, a large, bony hand holding onto an oak staff which was twisted up towards the heavens, an elegantly placed crystal ball attached to the top, the oak curling around it. His face was covered partially by his wavy silver hair, his amethyst eyes shining through, promising me a world of pain should I take even a single step out of line. His dark blue cloak was tattered and old, the colour fading ever so slightly, his skin sagging and wrinkled. I knew of this warlock, I knew that he was a necromancer, that he could raise other witches and mortals form the dead. He had a dangerous gift, one that many feared much like mine, I had thought they all lived in the tribes of Scotland, but clearly, I had been misinformed.

He turned to look down at me just before he