The Accidental Necromancer
A Look in the Mirror

You know, I’ve been doing some thinking, Enash said in my head.

I was focusing on getting down the rope, but it wasn’t that far. I let myself drop the last yard or so and landed on my feet. “I thought you were awfully quiet.”

I can’t see or hear anything when I’m in your world, and I can’t talk to you either. It’s most unsettling. A vast, empty void. Or like the inside of a coffin, and I speak from personal experience. In any case, I’ve decided we’re in this together. Clearly, a little cooperation is advisable.

“Yep,” I said. I didn’t trust Enash any further than I could throw him, and given that he was intangible and inside my head, I couldn’t throw him at all. But if he wanted to cooperate with me, I was fine with that. He could probably even get me to do him the occasional small favor in return for not talking so much.

I started walking toward the door, and my pants fell down.

I had very nice legs, not that I was used to evaluating a woman’s legs at quite this angle. Still, it was noteworthy. My penis hung there, still soft. And of course, I had to look past my tits to see it all.

My cock twitched and grew a little.

Not now. I yanked up my pants, and cinched the belt, hoping I’d remember to loosen it when I went back up.

Soon, we will thrust it into the wives our of our enemies.

“We? Uh, no. I only date married women if the husband is a hundred percent on board, which usually means he’s poly too. Too much drama otherwise.” Somehow, I didn’t think Enash was merely advocating for being someone’s dirty little secret, but I wanted to stay on task.

More humiliating that way.

“It’s not about that.” I put the backpack by the door and got out a can of multi-purpose oil. It wasn’t the very best rust remover I had, but it was handy and I didn’t want to drive to my storage unit to get the spray. I doused the bolts with oil. I’d have to let it sit for an hour or more before trying the bolts again.

It’s totally about that.

I had better things to do than argue with him about his cuckolding fantasy. “Detect Magic,” I said.

Instantly the doors glowed, and so did the painting in the ceiling, and the torches. The walls glowed too, but I didn’t notice it at first because they were a much softer, lighter blue compared to the other places. A different flavor or magic, or just less magical?

I was glowing, too.

Your body is not my natural form. I created it. Doing body magic is very difficult as a necromancer, but I had centuries to prepare. Hot, huh?

I’d give him that one. “Hot,” I agreed. I glanced around at all the glowing stuff, which now was fading. “And also, cool. Being able to do magic is great!” I’d gotten into stage magic a long time ago, learning how to palm a coin and force a card. But this was the real thing, and I wanted more.

I couldn’t really try out Drain Life, even if I wanted to. There wasn’t any life to drain except for mine. And Animate Lesser Undead — well, even if Enash’s old skeleton had been intact, I wasn’t going to have him walking around.

Even if all I’d done was make some things glow, I’d done real magic. And it hadn’t given me a headache. That seemed like a major accomplishment.

I’d let the oil work overnight, I decided. I loosened my belt and put my backpack on.

“Well, goodnight, Enash.”

No. Don’t go. It’s good to be alive again.

I felt just a tiny bit of sympathy. “Dimension Step,” I said. My work was done.

And like that, I was up in my basement again, with every intention of getting some rest, and another massive headache.

But then I spotted the mirror from the medicine cabinet.

I had no idea what my other self looked like. Not really. Her hair was long enough that I could see that it was black. My skin was light pink, and I clearly did a good job of filling out a shirt, but that wasn’t nearly as good as looking in a mirror would be. What color were my eyes?

I was never getting to sleep if I knew that all I needed to do to find out was go back down with the mirror. The argument against doing so was the headache that Dimension Step seemed to give me.

I wanted to move the cabinet away, too. And pick up the screw. Feeling cautious, I got a broom and used it to shove the cabinet to where I could grab it without getting on the puzzle and knocked the screw off. Then I picked up the mirror and held it in one hand while grabbing the rope in the other. I thought I could support my weight with one hand, and maybe let it slide through my hand to slow my fall. It wasn’t going to be pleasant, but I had too much curiosity not to try. Eventually I could make a rope ladder, or maybe even stairs.

I fell through the puzzle but held on to the rope. I noticed two things; one, that the mirror didn’t feel any heavier in my hands than it did before, and my body was lighter, which meant that holding on to the rope was easier. The other was that my hands weren’t as callused, and even a little slipping on the rope made me decide that getting rope burn all the way down was a bad idea. I wasn’t looking forward to the headache Dimension Step gave me, but it seemed like a better way to get down when I didn’t have two hands to work with.

“Dimension Step,” I said, and teleported next to the coffin. It didn’t hurt this time. Maybe that was because the distance was smaller, but I didn’t think so. It hurt when I used it to go through the portal.

You know, you don’t have to say the name of the ability every time. All you have to do is will it to happen.

“Huh.” That was kind of disappointing, actually. Made it feel less like magic.

Thanks for coming back, mortal.

Gratitude and condescension, all in one package.

I moved to one of the walls and propped up the mirror on the floor. It wasn’t perfect, but hanging it would be some serious work on stone walls and I didn’t intend to dawdle. It would do. Propped at an angle like that, I could get to where I could see most of my body.

I had violet eyes. Elegantly arched eyebrows. Narrow cheekbones. Full, red lips. My ears had little points to them. My jet-black hair was nicer than I imagined it, falling in glossy waves to my shoulders. I ran my hand through it, and discovered – horns? Very petite ones, just a half-inch long, but pointy enough I almost cut myself. I had to move my hair out of the way to see them, and even then they blended in, as they were black like the hair.

I took my shirt off and tried to be clinical. Large, full breasts, that didn’t seem to need a bra, with nipples that pointed straight ahead. A narrow waist, without being comically small. Toned abs, that were muscled without being obviously so.

I cupped my breasts. Such smooth skin, and my nipples poked at my fingers. I teased them, and found them extra sensitive, sending waves of sensation all the way down my body.

My cock hardened. So much for being clinical.

I figured I might as well see the whole thing. I undid the belt, unzipped the pants, and let them fall to the floor. They didn’t need much encouragement. I stepped out of them.

My legs were well formed, and my hips widened out nicely. 38-24-36, I guessed. But the organ that jutted out from between my legs was hard to ignore. I’m reasonably well endowed, but this was bigger. It hadn’t looked like much before, but as it filled with blood it kept getting larger, until it was almost obscene. It was at least two inches longer than mine — where does one measure from, anyway? It was a porn star dick. I held it and looked it over.

Super hot, huh?

I hated agreeing with him. “Yeah,” I said. “Super hot.”

You know, I haven’t masturbated in over a thousand years. If you wouldn’t mind, it was one of the few pleasures of being alive.

“You can feel all this.”

Yes.

“And see all this.”

Yes.

Okay, I wanted to. I wanted to stroke that big thick cock and watch my tits bounce in the mirror. I totally did. But at the same time, I didn’t want to do it in front of Enash, and the idea that he could feel it all made my skin crawl.

I stroked it twice, up and down, and then let it go. That little bit of giving into temptation hadn’t helped at all, and I knew I wasn’t going to deny myself forever.

I glanced at my watch, an old-fashioned mechanical kind. It was well after midnight, and I tended to rise with the sun.

“I better just get some sleep,” I said. “I’m going to get up at dawn no matter what.”

You what?

“Get up as soon as it’s light out? It’s not like I’ve had a chance to install curtains.”

In the name of all that is unholy, why?

“The earlier I start, the more I can get done,” I explained.

Oh, come on. Stroke it. Up and down, up and down. Squirt all over the mirror, it’ll be like painting a face practically.

There was one more thing I wanted to do, and that was check my character sheet for changes. System display, whatever it was called. I zeroed in on one section.

Health: 16/20

Mana: 45/81

Endurance: 7/30

Experience for Next Level: 998

My mana and endurance were down, and I’d picked up one more point from somewhere. But Dimension Step had cost me ten mana before, and I’d done it at four times and Detect Magic once, so it was reasonable to assume that mana regenerated.

I sure wish I could see what I was getting experience for.

Would you like to receive experience notifications? (Y/N)

“Yes, please,” I said.

Experience notifications enabled.

Oh, no. You’re going to get data overload. Next you’ll be making it tell you every time you get mana back.

That was a pretty good idea, actually. “Could you tell me every time I spend mana, or get it back?”

Would you like to receive mana notifications? (Y/N)

“Yes. Or better yet, show it in the form of a bar, maybe in blue, with numbers over it so that if I really look I can see an exact amount but otherwise I get a graphical representation? And maybe a health bar and an endurance bar that work the same way?”

Mana notifications enabled.

I couldn’t see any health and mana bars, so I guess that was a no.

“Dimension Step,” I said. Ouch, the headache.

I went upstairs, got on my air mattress, and pleasured myself without him watching. Maybe it was petty, but Enash wasn’t my idea of good erotic company. Maybe I could offer him a jerk off session as a reward some time, but he was going to have to stop ticking me off. Tonight, an orgasm would help me sleep, and it was better doing that lying down than standing up in a musty tomb.