Reborn with a Necromancer System - Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Memories Chapter 36: Memories The world twisted from a kaleidoscopic appearance into clear view.

Vepice sat on the cold, hard floor of their master’s house.

The first thing they remembered.

Their mother, a maid, slept with the master of the house and Vepice was born inside the high marble walls.

The estate belonged to Lord Adrien Vardane, a noble of the citadel, a man who believed that those without status existed only to serve.

Vepice soon became, once old enough, one of many house slaves, but they had always known there was something different about them.

They had been small, too small for their age, with delicate features that often made the other slaves and workers question their gender.

That was, until they turned five.

That was when their ears changed.

The first time their master saw them, slightly pointed, a sign of something not entirely human, Lord Vardane’s face twisted with disgust.

“This is what you are?

A half-breed?

A stain on my house?” Vepice didn’t understand.

They had never known their mother, as she was sent away after their birth.

They had no name other than Vepice, which one of the other slaves gave them.

With no knowledge of their lineage other than Lord Vardane being their father, Vepice was simply a child who scrubbed floors, carried food, washed clothes, and did whatever they were told.

But that day, none of it mattered.

Not being the illegitimate child of the Lord.

Not all the work they had done.

That day, they learned what it meant to be different.

The punishment was swift.

Vardane’s men dragged them into the back room of the estate, the one with no windows, only candlelight and the scent of old blood.

The one where the bad slaves were punished.

The one that Vepice had only entered to clean up after a punishment.

Vepice screamed as the men held them down, their head pressed against the wooden table.

The steel was cold against their skin.

Then came the sawing.

It was not a clean cut.

Lord Vardane believed that pain was a better teacher than words.

One man cut through his ears in jagged motions, slicing too deep in some places, leaving behind uneven stumps.

Blood poured down Vepice’s neck, soaked into his clothes.

Screams came from the punishment room until Vepice’s throat became too raw to continue.

“There,” Vardane said, tossing the severed pieces of flesh onto the floor.

“Now you look more human.” Vardane and his men left them there, bleeding, their sobs lost in the dark.

No one came to help.

No one dared.

By the time Vepice was allowed back among the other slaves, the wounds had festered, the pain a constant reminder of what they were not allowed to be.

But it wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

At seven, their skin changed.

The olive tone they had always known lightened, turning paler with each passing month.

Other slaves whispered about it when they thought Vepice couldn’t hear.

“The master’s curse,” they called it.

“They’re not right.

Something’s wrong with them.” Lord Vardane agreed.

He agreed in the harshest of ways.

“If the ears weren’t enough, now the child’s skin betrays them,” he mused one evening, running a gloved hand down Vepice’s arm.

The touch made their stomach churn.

“We can’t have that.

People will talk.” The next morning, Vardane took them to the forge.

Rough men stripped them bare and bound them to the metal rack.

The blacksmith, an old man with tired eyes, held the branding iron in trembling hands.

The sigil of House Vardane glowed red-hot at the tip.

“Please,” Vepice whimpered, their voice raw and their small body shaking.

“Please, Master, I won’t…

I won’t change anymore!” Vardane only smiled.

The iron touched Vepice’s skin.

The pain was unlike anything before.

Worse than the cutting.

Worse than the beatings.

It tore through them, a wave of agony that drowned every thought, every sense.

Their shrill screams echoed through the chamber, but no one came to stop it.

It sounded like murder.

Not until every inch of him had been ‘marked’.

Their arms.

Their legs.

Their back.

Their chest.

Every part of them burned and blistered until they were no longer recognizable, until their skin was no longer pale but a ruined landscape of pinkish-red scars.

“Now,” Vardane said, wiping soot from his gloves, “you belong to me.” For years after, he did.

At nine, Vepice began to hear things when they touched people.

The first time it happened, they were cleaning Vardane’s study, wiping down the desk when the nobleman’s hand brushed against their own.

The world shifted.

Images.

Thoughts.

Fears.

Desires.

All of it flooded Vepice’s mind in an instant.

They saw Vardane as a child, cowering beneath his father’s hand.

They saw him at fifteen, drowning a stable boy for sport.

Then a flash of him at twenty, swearing vengeance against a brother who had betrayed him.

Vepice witnessed his deepest desires and his darkest fears.

And Vardane?

He noticed nothing.

Vepice never spoke of it.

Not at first, at least.

They didn’t understand what was happening.

But it kept happening.

The more they touched, the more they saw.

Servants.

Guards.

Anyone who brushed against Vepice.

The minds of everyone opened like books, their pasts, their emotions, everything laid bare before Vepice.

And then a mistake was made.

A week later, he was serving Lord Vardane and his guests, pouring wine when a noblewoman whispered something under her breath.

“It’s a shame about his brother,” she murmured.

Vepice, unthinking, replied, “He never forgave him for the poisoning, did he?” Silence fell.

The guests stared.

Lord Vardane’s face darkened.

His fingers curled into fists.

“How do you know that?” Vepice froze.

They had never meant to say it aloud.

It had slipped out, as natural as breathing.

“I…

I heard you say it before-” “Liar!” The next thing Vepice knew, they were on the floor, their cheek burning from a hard slap.

“He’s cursed,” someone whispered.

“A devil-child.

He knows things he shouldn’t.” Vepice begged, pleaded, swore it wasn’t true.

But it was too late.

By morning, Vepice vanished from the estate.

The slaves whispered about it for days after.

Vardane had not ordered Vepice killed.

Killing a cursed child would bring ruin upon them all.

Instead, Vardane’s men took Vepice beyond the citadel, to the deep forests where the arcane beasts roamed.

Vardane’s men, people Vepice had helped their entire life, had left them there, stripped of their clothes, their shoes, their dignity.

“If they survive, it’ll be the gods’ will,” the guards had said before abandoning Vepice to the dark.

But Vepice did survive.

For years, they learned to avoid the creatures in the woods.

They learned to scavenge, to move unseen.

They stole from other creatures when they had to, killed when they had no other choice.

The magic beasts never took them.

The curse, if there was one, never claimed them.

And for the first time in their life, they were free.

— Kai gasped, staggering back as the memories faded.

He looked at Vepice, horror twisting in his gut.

“They…” Vepice nodded.

“Afraid of me.

Said I was cursed.

So they left me here to die.” “But you didn’t.” “No.” A flicker of something in their dark eyes.

“Neither did you.” Kai clenched his fists.

“Those bastards…” Vepice shook their head.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Kai exhaled slowly.

No, it did matter.

But he wouldn’t say that now.

Instead, he met their gaze.

“I won’t be here as long as you have been, though.” Vepice lowered their eyes.

“I know.” ‘Right.

If they’ve touched me, they’ve also seen it all.

Maybe that’s why they stay here in the forest where they can’t touch anyone.’ A long silence stretched between them.

Then, Vepice turned, tending to the fire again as if nothing had happened.

But something had.

And Kai would never forget.

Kai exhaled slowly, feeling something shift inside him.

His fingers curled with newfound strength, his limbs no longer sluggish.

For the first time in months, he pressed his palms to the ground and lifted himself up.

His legs held steady.

He was ready to leave.

‘If I’m well enough to move around, I need to train.

The only reason I survived the encounter with the inquisitors is because I had Hunter.’ Kai tried to establish a connection to his bound little pet, but there was nothing on the other end.

‘Worth a try, I guess.

I need to be able to protect myself, my friends, and my raised creatures if I hope to survive.

CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Jhaydun What a tragic backstory for poor Vepice!

They went through the same transformation as Kai, so what is the connection?