Page 27 of The Necromancer's Prisoner

The question caught Alistair off-guard. His fingers fell from Iggie’s shoulders as he struggled to find his tongue. “I…I want to protect people. To uphold the family legacy.”

“Do you?” The too-discerning look Iggie gave him a sent unease rippling down his spine. “Or is that your father talking?”

Alistair opened his mouth to protest, to tell Iggie that he’d known what he wanted to be ever since he was a little kid gazing up at his father’s resplendent armor as he recounted tales of his latest heroic exploits beside the hearth. But the words wouldn’t come.

He bowed his head. “I don’t know.” The words rang true, even if he’d never allowed himself to voice them before. “When I was a boy, I dreamed of joining the Order to follow in my father’s footsteps, and then my days were filled with training, leaving no time to entertain doubts or debate alternatives. It wasn’t until my father died that I started to realize how the reality of life as a Knight might differ from his bedtime stories.”

“And you never considered walking a different path?”

Alistair tightened his jaw. “How could I? My uncle is no soldier, and he never married. If anyone was to preserve House Halion’s place in the Empire and maintain our ties with the Church, it would be me.” He exhaled a deep breath. “Besides, there are parts of the work I love—helping people with their problems, striving to make the world a better place. Still, sometimes I can’t help but feel…”

“Trapped?”

Alistair nodded as he slumped to the ground beside Iggie. His golden armor seemed duller than usual as it reflected the dawnflame fire. “All I ever wanted was to make my father proud,” he whispered, his throat constricting.

Iggie hesitated a beat before resting an awkward hand on Alistair’s shoulder. Instead of shrugging it off like he should, Alistair found himself leaning into the touch despite the bulky armor he still wore. He had shared far more with Iggie than he meant to—something that seemed to happen disconcertingly often around the necromancer.

It took several minutes for the tightness in his chest to ease enough for him to speak. When it had, he cleared his throat and shifted to face Iggie. “What about you?”

“Me?” Iggie said, sounding surprised.

“Indeed. I’ve told you about my past—my hopes and dreams. What is it that drivesyou?”

“Survival,” Iggie responded at once.

Alistair blinked. “Survival?” he repeated doubtfully.

Iggie gave him a defensive look. “Not all of us have the luxury of choice, even a difficult one we don’t want to make. It’s impossible to stop and consider the future when you’re constantly on the run in the present, always looking over your shoulder and unable to fit in anywhere you go.”

A frown tugged at Alistair’s lips as he glanced past Iggie to his lurking skeletons. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but couldn’t you have just dismissed your undead and found a small village somewhere willing to take in a stranger? It might not be ideal, but…”

“But neither is sleeping in an abandoned tower while stealing supplies to survive?” Iggie barked a humorless laugh. “Perhaps that would have worked for a time. But even if I was willing to hide that part of myself forever, my secret would have escaped eventually. Someone from the Order would’ve sensed my magic.” A shadow flickered over Iggie’s face, his icy eyes hardening to frozen specks. “Or something would’ve happened to set it off. All it would’ve taken was a single glimpse of my duskflame to turn the entire town against me.”

Alistair wished he could deny it, but he recognized the truth in the necromancer’s words. In Khordan, only practitioners of voidflame were more maligned. “Why not seek refuge in another kingdom, then—one less rigid in its orthodoxy to the Church?”

Iggie snorted. “With how tightly Khordan maintains its borders? The Order would’ve apprehended me in a heartbeat.” His expression grew fierce. The defiant look on his delicate face sent a strange flutter through Alistair’s stomach. “Besides, the Empire is my home, whether the Church likes it or not. I shouldn’thaveto flee in order to live my life in peace.”

“Perhaps not,” Alistair conceded. “But spending your life on the run hardly sounds much better.” He considered Iggie’s tale. “Not everyone in the Order is so quick to condemn. If you explained your situation, they might be able to find a peaceful solution.”

Iggie stared at Alistair like he was the biggest idiot in the entirety of Allaria. “You honestly believe theOrderwould have helped me?”

A flush heated Alistair’s neck. “I know our views on duskflame are a tad…harsh. But that doesn’t mean an exception couldn’t have been made given your unique circum—”

“Shadow and shade, are youinsane?” Iggie made as if to rise before seeming to remember where they were. He fixed the crackling fire with a dour glare and huddled near its warmth. “You may have suffered hardships of your own, but you don’t know what it’s like to be so despised that people would sooner stick you with a knife than greet you.”

Alistair pictured his family’s sprawling estate with its army of servants. His fingers trailed down the gilded front of his breastplate. “You’re right,” he said softly. Surprise widened Iggie’s eyes as Alistair continued. “Even after my father died, I never wanted for anything. I never had to scrounge for shelter, or worry about my next meal, or fear for my own safety. I never had to survive on my own the way you have.”

He held Iggie’s gaze, marveling at how the light caught in his azure eyes and formed dancing shadows in their depths. “So,makeme understand. What happened to you, Iggie?”

Iggie hesitated, his uncertainty reflected throughout his tensed body. “I…I’ve never spoken about my past with anyone before.”

“That’s okay,” Alistair replied even as he smothered his disappointment. “You don’t owe me anything you aren’t ready to give.”

“No, Iwantto.” Iggie bit his bottom lip. “But I don’t know if I can.”

Alistair’s heart went out to the necromancer. His gaze strayed to the golden fire dancing across the piled logs. “I’ve noticed how you shy away from my dawnflame and close up whenever I mention your past. Clearly, whatever happened has weighed on you for a long time. It might do you some good to finally get it off your chest.” He smiled. “If it helps, don’t think of me as a paladin of the Order. Tonight, I’m just a regular person, same as you.”

Iggie snorted at that, but Alistair could tell his words helped soothe the necromancer’s nerves. Even still, surprise coursed through him when Iggie hesitantly began to speak.