Nordstrom Necromancer: A New Adult Dark Fantasy Inspired By Norse Mythology

by Amy B. Nixon

  “Hell to the no!”

  My ability to speak coherently had returned.

  ***

  So, this is how I came to be on a large uncharted Norwegian island, staring at a castle that could put Sleeping Beauty’s one in its back pocket.

  I was swept away from the lies of my human life and was now standing at the threshold of my journey as a necromancer. I was facing magic I had never heard of before, let alone learned how to control.

  And I was about to make a huge mess out of everything.

  A Man Is Not Dead Unless His Soul Is Lost

  “Can we stop for a second?” I asked hopefully as the two men guided me through the edifice’s humongous front doors.

  “You’ll have time to explore later.”

  “Please?” The castle was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Even more beautiful than any programming language, code or backdoor I had studied.

  “Later,” the guy repeated.

  I looked around as we passed from one corridor to another, searching for telltale signs that would later help me navigate through the castle. There were too many similar turns, stony walls, statues and portraits of medieval people, and I had too little time to check them out properly.

  Every hallway was lit by torches. Actual old-school torches. Eidetic memory be damned!

  The men dragged me inside a small room with a tall desk and two chairs. There were no decorations on its walls, only more torches, and another door right across us.

  An elderly looking woman popped her head from behind a computer’s monitor, positioned on the desk. So, they had electricity in this place.

  “Ah, you’re already here, Miss Dustrikke! I just received your aunt’s message. My name is Raisa Kuoppala, and I am Head of Administration. Welcome to Nordstrøm Island. We will settle you in shortly. You can take residence in the castle or in a vacant tower on our parcels of floating land, which I’m sure you have already seen. But first, please give me a hand.”

  Give her a what? As if she’d heard my thoughts, the woman extended her own hand, palm facing up. I studied it for a few seconds before putting my right hand over hers.

  Everything happened too quickly. A pinching sensation pierced through my index finger. I jerked away to see a drop of blood running down my fingertip. Before I could produce a sound, the crimson liquid evaporated into a cloudy smoke of vivid emeralds. Wide-eyed and confused, I gawked at the Administration lady, who was putting away a short dagger I had missed earlier.

  She had done magic, not like the one I had already seen, but with blood. With my blood.

  “Keys aren’t efficient here, Miss Dustrikke. Your blood will create a locking spell on your sleeping chambers. We’ve been informed of your upbringing as a mortal human. Please be assured, there is nothing to worry about.”

  Just the mysterious thing I’m supposed to be hiding from, right?

  “Mm-hmm,” I muttered, still shocked.

  A cloud of ebony fumes with bright green sparks emerged from nowhere, floating freely above the woman’s head. She reached up to snatch a small sheet of paper from the magical smoke. My vocal cords tightened once I realized there was handwriting on the paper. The words contrasted against it, radiating in a shade of blood-like crimson.

  “Please take Learyn Dustrikke to Monika Larsen’s room on Hallvard Nordstrøm’s orders.”

  The men quickly dragged me away from her office, plunging us into another maze of corridors.

  We came to a stop on the third floor, near a passageway. It looked like most of the interior we had passed – wide, paved with stone and filled with numerous wooden doors. One of my companions knocked on the nearest door before making a wavy motion with his fingers. The entire frame got consumed by emerald fire.

  I jumped back, pulling away from the other guy.

  His buddy stepped directly into the burning flames. The other one grabbed me again, drew me forward and pushed me into the fire, without caring for my short-lived scream of protest.

  I was too young to be burned to death!

  Stumbling ahead, I realized I was fully alive, unharmed, and no longer standing in the bright greens. Squinting with a rapid heartbeat, I made out the outlines of another corridor, small and narrow, with two more doors. One was closed; the other revealed a room with a single bed positioned near the doorframe. Someone was sleeping in it.

  “Larsen! Time to wake up.”

  “Five more minutes,” a female voice mumbled.

  “Meet Learyn Dustrikke. Your new roommate.”

  “Dustrikke!” The voice squealed. Its owner jumped right up into a sitting position. From what I could see against the green light, she had dark hair and was vigorously rubbing her eyes. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time she was hearing my last name. “I’m up, I’m up!”

  She quickly got out of bed and ran up to us. I guessed she was close to my age, but it was a bit hard to determine. Her face was covered in smudges of black eye shadow.

  “Umm… Hi?” I said hesitantly. “Guess I’m your new roommate?”

  “Monika Larsen.” She stretched her arm out, then glanced at the big smudges on it, and immediately retrieved her hand, wiping it off in her T-shirt. I noticed she didn’t have any pants. Strangely, she wasn’t trying to hide it. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was having company, otherwise I would have made myself presentable.”

  “Sorry we barged in while you were sleeping. It wasn’t exactly my idea to interrupt a half-naked girl’s sleep.”

  “Nah, I don’t mind the guards. Speaking of, off you go.”

  Without uttering a word, the men walked through the burning door, the green fire disappeared, and a soft glow took its place, coming from a chandelier on the ceiling. Monika turned her back to a light switch on the wall, and walked over to a desk in the farthest end of the room.

  There was a set of two floor-length curtains next to the desk, probably hiding a window. If we left aside the curtains and the room’s extremely high ceiling, this place looked a lot like a dorm room. It held two single beds with nightstands, one big wardrobe that took most of the wall behind it, a few shelves next to it, and a coffee table positioned in the center of the room. Monika’s stuff was all over the place – clothes, books, makeup and a coffee machine. Didn’t they have kitchens and coffee machines in this castle?

  “Why are these guards allowed to barge into your bedroom?”

  She sat behind the desk, removing her panda face in front of a small makeup mirror. Her hair wasn’t simply dark, but dyed in various shades of purple. I smirked. If I didn’t like my naturally black hair so much, I would have loved to get purple highlights.

  “They couldn’t leave you hanging in the hallway like a homeless person all night, right? Or is it morning? Whatever. My point is, they won’t have a reason to do it again.”

  Monika turned her makeup-free face to me with a smile. I smiled back and pulled my suitcase to the bed across hers.

  “I can’t believe I have a fabulous Dustrikke as a roommate!”

  “Funny,” I replied to her obviously sarcastic remark.

  She could have guessed I wasn’t the fabulous girly-girl type, judging by my messy hair, chipped black nail polish, ripped black jeans and lack of tons of suitcases with designer clothes.

  “Where did you even come from? I haven’t heard of any Dustrikkes making public appearances in the last two decades!”

  I puffed out the air in my cheeks, dropping on the bed.

  “California.”

  “America?” Monika rushed over to me. I instinctively moved to the side. Trust issues were my truest friends lately. “But you’re a Dustrikke!”

  “Apparently,” I muttered without wanting to tell her how I didn’t know what it meant apart from being a strange family name. All of a sudden, I felt vulnerable, exposed and embarrassed, like I always had around the “friends” who knew me back in San Francisco. “So, what’s the deal with this island, anyway? My family didn’t mention it until… recently.”

&
nbsp; “Well, it’s like a safe haven for necromancers. And others, of course. It offers shelter for its regular residents and for anyone who visits. We have all sorts of magical wards and protections around, including guards like those two guys. The island also provides a safe place where young necromancers can learn how to control their powers, away from humans and other supernaturals.”

  Other supernaturals? There were more magical things out there? At least I didn’t have to feel like a freak. Was I here to seek protection from them? The other supernatural creatures? I bit my lips, wondering if I should ask Monika.

  “You don’t look thrilled. Were you being prepped for Howard’s College for The Gifted? Is that why you were in America? Or did you graduate already? How old are you anyway?”

  So many questions!

  “I’ll be twenty-one in December.”

  Her squinting stare seemed intrusive. “Wow, you Dustrikkes are way too secretive. I mean, I get why, but you don’t have to worry.”

  “Worry about what?” I asked the million-dollar question.

  “Exactly! I’m a Larsen. We – Larsens – have always been on your side. The family business is guarding your eitr and stuff, so there’s nothing to worry about. I mean, I’m still not through with my studies to be talking about the family business, but you get the idea.”

  “My what?”

  Her grimace deepened. My heart skipped a beat as I decided to shoot for honesty, despite my fears of vulnerability. This was supposed to be a safe place for me, right? And Monika had just told me there was no reason to be apprehensive because she was on my side – whatever that was supposed to mean.

  “I learned about the existence of magic earlier tonight. I’m not worried about eitr because I have no clue what it actually is.”

  “No!” She gasped, leaning closer, running her eyes all over me. I felt like I was being examined by a supernatural doctor. “Oh, boy! Dustrikkes being secretive even with their own kin? I never expected your family could go that far! It does make sense if they wanted to hide you from the supernatural community, but keeping you in the dark is just plain wrong.”

  “Forget my family. Wanna fill me in on what the hell you’re talking about?”

  “Where do I even start?”

  A bitter half-laugh, half-snort tore my chest. “Maybe explain what eitr means?”

  “Umm, in simple words, it’s the most venomous substance known in all Nine Realms. In its purest liquid form, eitr is what gives you, me and other necromancers our necromantic abilities.”

  “A deadly poison is our magic’s life support system?”

  “Yeah. It’s rooted deep within our souls.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Makes sense. Movies and games call it death magic, after all.”

  “Don’t rely on movies and games. The real world – sorry, for you it means the supernatural world – is nothing like Netflix. Eitr is highly valued on the black market, and finding it in pure form is close to impossible unless you’re loaded with cash and connections.”

  My sick sense of humor kicked in again, making me laugh. “And this island will keep me safe from the magical dealers who’ll sell me to the highest bidder?”

  “Not you as a whole. Just, you know, your soul. But you’re a Dustrikke, and everyone knows Dustrikkes are kickass necromancers, excelling at everything. No one will dare touch you to extract your soul or maim you in other ways.”

  “FML!” I groaned.

  “FML?”

  “It means fuck my life,” I translated in English. Somehow, listening to and speaking in a foreign language seemed too natural.

  “How long are you here for?”

  I shrugged. “Could be a while.”

  “Why don’t you practice your evocation until you figure out the while? Most necromancers reach magical maturity at seventeen or eighteen, so your powers have already broken out by now.”

  Monika seemed so chatty, friendly and open, and my head was spinning. My anger had abated, as had my fear of being exposed, so I shot for another question.

  “What’s evocation?”

  “The most fundamental aspect of necromancy. It’s basically learning how to evoke different types of postmortem stages, like soul, spirit, corpse–”

  “Whoa, stop!” I hadn’t given much thought to death. There were so many other details I had learned tonight, that my brain needed time to catch up, especially with the disgusting parts. “Can I really raise people from the dead?”

  “Not just people. It’s a bit tricky at first, but you’ll get it after a few tries. I think it took me about four or five until I got a soul from beyond. The rest is easier, though.”

  A soft melody interrupted her explanation. She hurried over to its source – a phone on the coffee table between the beds.

  “I have to go, but my twin brother Max can take over.”

  “With what?”

  My brain was a mess. There was so much I couldn’t grasp. Every single magical word sounded foreign to me, regardless of the language spell those guards had performed.

  “He can give you a tour of the island. Finding your own way around it is impossible at the beginning, trust me. This place is huge!”

  “Please don’t make your brother babysit me. I can explore on my own. I actually wanted to see more of the castle’s exterior and those floating islands.”

  “Oh, they serve as housing grounds for some of our residents. You’ll need to get the hang of portals before going there, though. Which means you’ll also need to exercise your Aperture.”

  “The hell?”

  “I’m sorry, it’s a long story. Come with me, I’ll show you the way to the main gates.”

  She dressed quickly, we walked out the door and took a few steps before a flock of guys cut us off at the end of the corridor. The nearest one curved his mouth in a sly grin.

  “Well, well, what do we have here?” He approached us, examining me head to toe and back again, not making the slightest attempt to mask his mischievous smile. “Are you lost, baby? Because Vanaheim is a looong way from here.”

  I didn’t know what Vanaheim meant, but it wasn’t hard to guess.

  “Ew!” I growled, incapable of hiding my disgust, like he couldn’t hide his disgusting thoughts. “Drop the vapid pick-up lines!”

  “Monika, who’s your feisty friend? Is she a transfer? I’m loving her already.”

  “Hands off, Axel,” Monika warned, sticking her finger in the guy’s shoulder. “She’s Learyn Dustrikke.”

  The ones behind him exploded in boos, aahs and catcalling whistles. FML! Did everyone really know my name?

  “Woohoo, she’s out of your league, boys!” Axel exclaimed, shouting over the others.

  “She’s out of yours as well. Where can I find my brother?”

  “Try the infirmary. You know he can’t hold his liquor.”

  “You went drinking again?” Monika exclaimed angrily, taking a step forward. “That’s so typical of you, you brainless idiot! When you know he’ll have training sessions today! Move!”

  She pushed past him, pulling my hand as the guys spread sideways to make room for us.

  “You’re absolutely invited to my next party, Dustrikke! That’s if you don’t get killed by then,” I heard the sleazeball shout from behind us. “Damn that cute little ass, girl!”

  The guys’ laughter pierced my ears. The comment itself made me burn with irritation, awakening an overwhelming need in me to go back over there and…

  “Don’t pay attention to Axel and those idiots,” Monika cut off my murderous thoughts.

  “What did he mean by not getting killed?”

  “A local joke.” My concerned expression probably tipped her off because she waved her hand through the air. “It’s a just a stupid joke. The only reason they were laughing was because they’ve probably started betting on who will successfully hit on you first.”

  “Dreaming is free.”

  “I like your attitude. Come on, I’m running late.”


  Rushing to keep up with Monika’s long-legged, hurried stride, I didn’t have enough time to pause and examine anything. The big statues scattered here and there, their nooks, archways leading to new hallways, wide staircases, marbled columns and everything else would have to wait.

  We passed only a few more people, so my guess was it was still too early for anyone to be awake on a Sunday morning. Secretly, I liked it. This way I didn’t have to see more people who knew who I was, when all I knew was that I had been living a lie my entire life. Said life had turned into a mess, so leaving it behind wasn’t a tough decision. Still, I couldn’t swallow the lies’ bitterness.

  Finally, we reached the enormous double doors I had passed at dawn with those guards. She flung them open, and the bright morning light hit me at once, forcing me to squint. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the transition from torch-lit halls to natural daylight, I stepped outside on the stairs’ landing.

  For as far as my eyes could see, a deep, blue horizon surrounded the bridge we had walked on earlier. No mainland, no islands, no bays. Nothing to break up the heavenly blues.

  I had no idea where the bridge led to, but it stretched farther than the horizon. All I could do was stand there, taken aback by the seamless panorama, afraid to move, as if that would disturb the ocean waves’ graceful flow.

  “Hey, we should exchange numbers in case I can’t find you later, or vice versa.”

  Monika’s voice tore me out of my dreamy state. Mechanically, I handed her my phone, too stunned to utter a vocal reply. I had never seen anything so serenely detached from the everyday hassle of the human world. Before I could fully snap out of it, she passed me my phone.

  “The bridge’s length is an illusion. The real view is better from the other side.”

  Following her advice, I ran to the bottom of the stairs, and spun on my feet. The grandeur of the massive stony façade took me by surprise. It was even more stunning in the light of day than it had been at dawn.

  Perfectly round columns stretched on both sides of the entrance. Numerous orders and decorations, winding and twisting, climbed the walls, gracing the castle’s exterior with their exquisiteness. A clock tower sat on top of the entrance wing, perched right in the center of the edifice.