First Sabriel Fic. Read and Review.
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Mark felt the cold river pulling against him, sucking away his life. He was in Death. He walked across the river which did not end in sight. He was looking for something.

Mark was a Necromancer. Necromancers bound spirits to their will and tried to increase their influence over the land, breaking charter stones, and terrorizing villages. But Mark was different.

When he was a child, before he had fully become a Necromancer, he had raised a Dead Hand to kill some bullies that had been torturing him. But the Abhorsen was in town. He stopped him from killing the bullies. The Abhorsen took pity on the kid, and took him in for a year, teaching him the ways of an Abhorsen, because he had no sucessor.

By the time Mark had finished reading the Book of the Dead, he had been Abhorsen-in-waiting for almost a year. He had also learned how to use the Charter, and quickly became more skilled with the Charter than anyone he had met in the years of his training. He was not as skilled with the bells, however. He knew how to use the bells, and he could banish Spirits with little trouble, but he was not as musical as most of the other Abhorsens. He had to spend a lot of his free time practicing his musical skill, for if he was found in Death without bells, his voice would be the only thing keeping him from losing controll in Death.

As he trudged acros the river, fighting the tide, he saw a glimmer. He smiled, knowing that he found what he was looking for.

As he got closer, it changed from a glimmer to a tiny ball of light. When he picked it up, it was about the size of his closed fist. When he looked at it, he could see the Charter marks flowing around, making up the light. He knew that he now could go past the first gate, to find the next ball of energy..

His master had fallen deep into death. When he fell, he shed his energy, denying the Greater Dead what it wanted, and even though he didn't know it, a path twoards his master.

Right before his master had gone to investigate a rumor of a Greater Dead walking again by Roble Town, his master had told him of the circumstances in which he had found Mark, which he erased from his mind by the Charter. He told me that he was disturbed not by how he was using the powers, or his skill of Free Magic, but how he had a bandolier of Bells, and a Book of the Dead. Right before he left, he gave him a blessing, and a box, telling him that if he should not return, he should open the box. And with little more, his master had left on his search of this Greater Dead.

Will I ever find him? Mark asked himself, doubtful. He knew that he had gone past the Eighth Gate before, the last Precinct before true Death, the Precinct of no return, but that had been with his master.

Mark paused for a second, hand going back to the box his master had given him before he left, but snapped his hand back.

I will find him Mark thought more bravely than he felt, and started walking twoards the First Gate, and beyond.