kechpaja<p>I'm back.</p><p>You weren't expecting that, were you?</p><p>You thought your magic had made me just another one of your mindless drones. Dead, capable of thought and service but with no will of their own, sustained only by your imposed Presence where a soul should have been.</p><p>But it didn't work this time, did it.</p><p>It didn't work, because I'm smarter than you.</p><p>It's no secret what you do with us, is it. Execution was never punishment enough for those who transgress the boundaries you and your ilk set. The boundaries you claim have been there since time immemorial, that nobody should even be _able_ to cross, but that melt away like shadows in moonlight when viewed from the other side. And we all know what happens if we're caught there — we're seen the spell before, watched others die and be dragged back as puppets. That's what you thought you did to me.</p><p>Only this time, I made the first move.</p><p>This time, before I left the fold, before I passed that point of no return that would spell doom when discovered, I laid a trap. I laid a trap in the recesses of my own subconscious, a carefully crafted set of allegorical mirrors, disguised so that even the shock and horror of my final moments wouldn't give my plan away.</p><p>And when my luck finally ran out, and you struck me again, with a spell of eternal posthumous slavery, my trap sprung. You cast a spell to bind me to your will, and the spell did not fail. It went off without a hitch, just like all the others.</p><p>Only you never counted on refraction. As water and glass bend light, so my trap bent your magic, ever so slightly, letting it succeed but changing its target. When it finished, I seemed another bound, undead drone. But things are not always as they seem.</p><p>I was bound alright. But not to you. Not to anybody.</p><p>Necromancy can be turned back on itself. That's what I understand that nobody else ever has: you can't bend the spell back to enslave the original, living caster, for it only works on the dead. But the other end of the magic? The end that binds to the will of the caster? That part can be bent, twisted, and _reflected_ back into a loop, binding the subject to... themself.</p><p>And the dead have no will of their own, but a will can be forged. Forged from whatever slivers of fear, hope, and grim determination were left after my death.</p><p>And that is how I came to be what I am today. As the days go by, I lose interest in the affairs of the living — I no longer feel passion, no longer hate, and I have long since lost any drive for revenge. But I still remember, and I still know exactly what you are, and what you do. One thing I have _not_ lost is direction, or purpose, and more and more my purpose revolves around those like what I once was.</p><p>And you can only kill me once. Been there, done that. Try to hit me again, and I'll just shake it off, like the walking corpse I am. Try to stop me, and you'll soon realize there may not be a me to stop anymore. It was a scary world out there, once, until I passed through the final horror and came out the other side, extinguished, renewed, and transformed.</p><p>And I won't stop until every last soul is free. </p><p><a href="https://social.kechpaja.com/tags/fantasy" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>fantasy</span></a> <a href="https://social.kechpaja.com/tags/necromancy" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>necromancy</span></a> <a href="https://social.kechpaja.com/tags/autonecromancy" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>autonecromancy</span></a> <a href="https://social.kechpaja.com/tags/wharashem" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">#<span>wharashem</span></a></p>