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Ghostly combat

  The next day, villagers gathered in the village center. Their tired eyes focused on the group in the center. Ben stood slightly higher on the raised block of stone— sort of impromptu podium. Seth close to him, biting his lip, he already tried to get Ben to change his mind again this morning, but nothing could move his friend at this point. Ola stood a good few steps behind them, watching the crowd and wondering how she got to this point in her life.

  At last, Ben clapped his hands and raised them to his eye level. The crowd fell silent as he started whispering in a low growling voice, voice so dark, villagers hushed each other back, further from the stage. The temperature lowered and Seth could feel something pushing him away from Ben. The window casements turned and squealed, wind picking up leaves and swirling around Ben, yet he in the center looked at peace. It was as if the wind couldn’t get close to Ben and stopped just when it was about to reach him. At last, Ben opened his eyes and clapped once. The wave of pressure raced from him to the furthest corners of the village. The ghosts the wave touched were slowly made more and more visible. Creatures and spirits only Ben could see were becoming part of this world once again.

  Ben would have collapsed if there wasn’t Seth to support him. He caught him, just when his knees let go. Ben smiled at Seth as he wiped out the sweat from his forehead.

  “So they are here now…” Seth mumbled towards the ghosts swirling around the buildings.

  Rumbling and noises started coming from the villagers. They looked fearfully at the ghosts, some pointing fingers at one or the other. Then the elder Pertek limped closer to Ben and Seth, taking his time, throwing worried looks between the ghosts and the villagers.

  “Sir Necromancer…” he said, as soon as he arrived. “Sir Ben, why are the ghosts still here?”

  Ben cocked his head, “so, you can talk?”

  “Ehm, ” the elder hesitated. “Talk?” He paused, choosing his next words very carefully. “I don’t think I understand… We don’t want to talk with them, we want them gone.” The murmur from the crowd’s front rows got louder and spread as villagers told each other what Ben said.

  “Ben…” Seth tugged his shirt.

  But Ben ignored him; he stood up and waved at the closest ghost, “excuse me. Hello! Excuse Me!” The ghost finally stopped whirling around and floated closer to Ben. “Whaaaat, do youuu waaant, mortaaal?” The ghost asked in a deep eery voice, rolling his eyes and waving his hands.

  “Could you stop that?” Ben frowned at him.

  The ghost then stopped coughed into his hand. “Xcuse me. Must be out of practice.” He rolled around once more and cleaned his transparent suit. Rest of the ghosts now surrounded them as well, curious what was this mortal nonsense about. “So,” the ghost hedged. “You the necromancer, that made us visible?”

  Ben nodded and smiled, “yes, could you please talk with the villagers? They can’t sleep when you float around.”

  The ghost was about to answer, but before he could a much bigger ghost stood out of the crowd. The ghost had an oriental armour and in each hand a long sabre; what he had in the muscles, he missed in the upper departments though, he didn’t have a head. So when he spoke, the voice came from elsewhere in the crowd. “How dare you speak to us in such a way?!” the voice sounded from somewhere to Ben’s right. He turned and saw that another ghost was holding the armoured ghost's head.

  Ben looked between the body and head. “Ehm,” Ben said. “Could you mount your head? I don’t know if I should look at your head or body.”

  The ghost cursed, but after some shouting, he got the other ghosts to hand over his head and put it back on its torso. He looked at Ben with a raised eyebrow and Ben gave him a thumbs up. Then the ghost realizing, he was supposed to intimidate the kid, raised his voice again, “I won’t listen to your questions! Why should I? The warrior who killed SeptemSexta legion, the man who defeated more monsters than anyone alive! The Great Alexandrus.”

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  The silence followed after his last explanation. The warrior stood proud, his chest held high, eyes staring into the sky. After a minute or so, one of the villagers asked: “Who?” Then more confused voices followed:

  “Never heard of him.”

  “I don’t know, maybe some adventurer?”

  Few ghosts also voiced their confusion, apparently even they didn’t hear about the Great Alexandrus.

  “No matter!” Alexandrus roared, “your education is no fault of mine. I will not submit to words, less I am bested. Who here is the strongest warrior?” He then floated closer to the podium. “Is it you, necromancer?” Alexandrus pointed a finger at Ben. “Or your feeble friend?” His eyes swept Seth as if he didn’t exist. “The old man?” Alexandrus laughed at the shivering elder. “Or not the…” he stopped, his eyes focused on Ola. “You bear the warrior's soul and the crest. You shall be my opponent.”

  Ola looked at Ben, but he just shrugged. The ghost Ben was talking to earlier floated closer to Ola. “Could you fight him please? He is always like that… We won’t be able to move this forward unless he gets it out of his system.”

  Ola just shrugged and raised her chin. The ghost just laughed as he floated down towards the ground. Rest of them were quickly hushed away from the podium by the ghosts.

  Ola and Alexandrus faced each other. The air shivered with mana, as Ola lowered her weight and raised her hands. Alexandrus grinned, his eyes flickering with excitement. He put his hands on the sabers and slowly raised them in front of him. Ola dropped on one knee, putting one hand on the ground. She smiled to herself, she was preparing a special trick and this was a perfect time to test it.

  She took a deep breath and focused on her contact with the ground. She breathed in and then with an exhale pushed the ground out. Few meters in front of her a dirt, compressed into a spike, flew towards the ghost, missing him by a full body length. Ola cursed, not a good first try.

  Alexandrus laughed and rang his swords together. He grinned at her, already celebrating the victory. Then, with an animalistic roar, he charged forward towards where Ola was supposed to stand. He stopped his charge immediately when he realized the air was empty. He looked around trashing his sabers in anger, wooden pieces flying everywhere. “Where are you?!” He roared. Then, out of nowhere, an ice spike hit him in the back.

  He swirled around, prepared to cut Ola to pieces, but she was nowhere to be seen. He rushed, looking for her, getting angrier and angrier, when he was hit with another ice spike.

  He swirled once again, but this time he noticed something leaving upwards. He looked up and received a kick to the chin. His head rolled away on the podium floor, taking his scream with it. His body was still thrashing around cutting left and right, trying to find the invisible foe, when Ola picked up his head, far from his trashing body.

  She lifted him by the hair and grinned at him. “How about we finish here?” She said and her right hand lit up with an emerald flame.

  “Fine, fine…” Alexandrus’ head said, eyes darting towards the flame. “I just wanted to play around a bit. Sorry about that.”

  “Apology accepted,” Ola grinned and threw the head back to the body.

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