Story Ideas and Writing Prompts

Writing Prompt #22: Necromancer's daughter

https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/ibiwo4/wp_a_necromancer_creates_a_magic_tool_that_casts/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3

He'd always embarrassed Amelie when she was a child. He'd hug her in front of the school when dropping her off, ask her is she was dating anyone yet, send his undead servants after anyone that bothered her. Usual dad stuff. But she'd still loved him. Even though he was a necromancer, he always made time for her. She didn't really appreciate it at the time, but now, alone in what used to be their living room, she cried.

She'd always hoped he'd live forever. Some necromancers did that, right? They made phylactories? Or turned themselves into vampires? But he was dead. She'd come home from her college class to find his head on the floor and his body slumped in his favorite chair. The police found no sign of the culprit, except for a small golden charm a paladin of Limbra would carry. For almost a year now, he'd been dead. But Amelie couldn't get over it. What had he done to deserve dying? He'd been a great father, had attended Umbra's rights on Thursdays, he'd even attended all her soccer games. Wearing blue face paint in the team colors, with a select few of his undead horde at his side, he cheered louder than anyone else in the stands. "That's my girl!" He'd cry. "Beat 'em to a pulp!" His wights would cheer.Then, after her team had inevitably won, they'd go out for pizza. But now he was dead. And most of the undead barracksed on their property had fallen apart or turned to dust the moment he died. Except for two wights and an undead hound. "Amelie's posse", her father had called them. They were the only resurrections she'd managed to finish successfully. Amelie wasn't as gifted a necromancer as her father. But she had to try. So she'd been practicing. She'd dropped our of college to focus on it. But every time she began the ritual, it would always go wrong. She'd stumble over the chant, or would knock over a candle onto the body she was trying to revive. They never worked. She'd been trying all year to raise someone. Anyone. Anything, even. But she couldn't. She hadn't done necromancy since she was ten. And the man who'd taught her everything she knew was dead and buried. Well, Amelie'd show those damned Limbranites. They'd crushed her life and her dreams, zo now she'd crush theirs in return. She just needed to build an army. Her own undead horde. But she'd never be able to build an army like this. Amelie couldn't even raise a squirrel now. She'd wasted her time, and her skills had faded away. As she sat, wallowing in pity, amidst the mess of another failed ritual, there was a knock on the front door. Amelie glanced at the door, sniffling, but made no move to get up and open it. She was expecting no visitors. And it couldn't be too important, or they'd have called her. The visitor knocked again, louder. Amelie rested her face on her hands and sighed softly. She just wanted to be left alone to her work.There was a few minutes silence, and then she heard someone tapping on her window. She looked up, suprised, and saw a person standing outside her living room window. A decidedly dead person. She stood, confused, and the zombie gestured towards the front door. Amelie nodded, and carefully picked her way around the stuff covering the floor. When she opened the door, she was expecting to see that undead, waiting patiently, with some message from a priest of Umbra. Instead, she saw at least one hundred and fifty zombies milling about her front lawn. Her jaw dropped. Where had they all come from?At the sound of the door opening, they'd all turned to look at her. Then the one who'd knocked on her window trotted back around the corner."Amelie Rose Dubois?" The undead asked in a polite tone of voice ."Y-yes." She whispered. "What's this all about?"All the undead on her lawn bowed and curtseyed to her. "My lady, we have been raised using your father's magicks, and it instructed that, in the unfortunate circumstance of his demise, we were to look to you."Amelie stared at the zombie uncomprehendingly."What are your orders for us, my master?" The undead asked, watching her intently.Amelie felt a smile split her face from ear to ear. "Come inside." She greeted. "We can have some dinner, and then we'll have a lot of training to do. We have an order of paladins to slaughter."