The forest was as quiet as ever. A minute deer munched heedlessly on the lush vegetation, unbothered by the inanimate body laying only a few meters from it. Clad in an emerald-colored dress, this figure was completely immobile. So immobile, in fact, the fawn had assumed it was dead and had paid it no more mind than it would an insect. That was, of course, until the apparent corpse shot up, frightening the poor animal in such a way it tripped and nearly injured itself before managing to run away.

Rushia opened her eyes and looked around, blinking rapidly. As soon as she realized where she was, she heaved a sigh.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this…"

She had just come back from the world of the dead. It was the latest spell she had been learning and, according to her teacher, one of the most challenging feats a necromancer could perform. Just as he had mentioned, the casting was indeed tricky to master. However, that was not what had bothered her the most.

As an undead of this world, I can't follow you there. You must go by yourself. The lich had said during her first attempts at the spell. This had made Rushia incredibly nervous and fidgety. That was, of course, until she realized she would be going to a place that was, to put it simply, the house of the dead. As soon as she arrived, a spirit who had heard the rumors of the green-haired necromancer had shouted in fear, assuming she had passed away. Once she explained the circumstances though, it wasn't long until she found herself surrounded by a number of enthusiastic ghost-like presences, all wondering how she had managed to make her way there. Apparently, she had become the subject of many rumors in the realm, for both her skill and affable attitude toward the undead. All had gone well until it was time to return

Since a physical body could not make it through the opening to the other realm, Rushia had to project only her soul, which would then assume her appearance in a process commonly known as astral projection. This meant, however, that her corporeal form would stay unconscious wherever she had performed the spell, and coming back to it felt a bit like suddenly being turned upside down. You'd get confused, your vision would blur for a few moments, and moving would feel weird for a minute or two. This had greatly shocked her the first time it had happened, to the point her teacher had wondered if something had gone awry. Even now, after having successfully performed the spell a number of times, she still strongly disliked the sensation of coming back to solid ground, and for that reason much preferred talking to spirits on the surface.

"How are you feeling?" came a voice from behind her.

"Hmm.. Returning is still awful, but I think I've mostly gotten it now!" Rushia smiled, turning to her undead teacher. As usual, he had gone off somewhere while she had been hanging out with the spirits.

"That is good." The lich returned the smile, though the lack of skin made it so his expression barely changed.

"So, what's next?" asked Rushia, getting up and dusting herself off.

The lich didn't immediately respond. Instead, he sat down against a nearby tree and reached inside his robe. Rushia tilted her head as he took out a small leather pouch, which had been closed with thread, and placed it on the ground. A tingling sound, unmistakably that of coin, reverberated through the forest.

"Teacher? What is this?" she questioned.

"Remember a week ago, when I was gone for a few days? I went back to my former home and gathered some remaining coins that had escaped the eyes of bandits and opportunists." the lich clarified.

"I see! Now that we're crossing the border, we'll need money to stay in the villages of the next kingdom. I wonder what the spirits there are like…" Rushia grinned widely as she thought of the prospect of meeting new friends.

The lich looked down. He didn't think of himself as sentimental. He had few acquaintances while alive, and almost none had been close to him enough for him to feel any strong emotions about. It was almost ironic that it was as a lich, a creature perceived as uncaring and unfeeling, that he was experiencing what could only be described as anguish.

"Rushia."

"Hm?"

She turned her head in surprise. It was rare that her teacher would call her by her actual name, especially in such a grave tone.

"To answer your earlier question, there is no next. I have taught you everything I know, and in terms of necromancy you, my student, have surpassed me long ago."

The necromancer blinked, unsure of how to reply. She had briefly wondered why the lich was no longer showing her how to perform the spells and had switched to a more theoretical approach in their lessons. She had, however, attributed this to an intentional difficulty increase in her training, not to a lack of skill from her professor.

"I am sure this comes as a shock to you. I purposefully did not speak a word on it, for I did not ever want you to become arrogant, like too many mages I have met. But if I were to speak truthfully, then I would say it is very likely that you no longer have an equal in terms of necromancy skill, at least in this continent." The lich continued, attempting to ignore Rushia's stare that threatened to pierce through him.

"With that said, there is one essential element that you are missing. And that is experience. Not necromancy experience, but the experience one gets from wandering around in the world, meeting people, and honing their skills on the field."

"But… Isn't that what I have been doing?" Rushia protested.

"The only wandering we have done has been in these forests, and how long has it been since you've talked to a living being?"

She felt her throat tighten. It had been too long for her to remember.

"You have just learned how to travel to the world of the dead, and you should pride yourself in that, for it is no simple feat. Nonetheless, spending too much time in the underworld will affect your soul if you aren't careful. This is why, as a last act as your teacher, I want to gift you this money. Please take it and head west." The lich now looked directly at Rushia, his orbits glowing with red light.

"This is way too sudden!" the girl's voice trembled now. "What about you, teacher? Will you abandon me?"

There's no way I can get by alone… she thought.

"I am not making this decision lightly. But I have ultimately come to the conclusion that, if there is nothing else to teach, then a teacher's presence is at best unnecessary, and at worst harmful. The only skills left for you to learn are ones I cannot mentor you in. You must go, Rushia. I have been-" The lich paused his speech after seeing Rushia wordlessly get up and walk away.

The face full of tears he saw extinguished any intention of stopping her.

When Rushia came back, almost a full day later, the lich was sitting in the exact same spot. She had had some time to reflect on his words. There were, much to her sorrow, no spirits to consult with this deep in the woods, but even just talking one-sidedly to the various small animals that bothered to listen to her had been enough to clear her mind, if only slightly. In the end though, she still wasn't convinced. There was no reason she could see for them to separate so abruptly. Before she could open her mouth to express so, the lich spoke first.

"This nation will soon become the ground of war."

"A war?!" Rushia couldn't help but exclaim.

"Indeed. A nation to the north is invading, my familiars tell me, and the people of the capital are very nervous." The undead revealed. "The northerners are a warrior people, you see, and with armies that dwarf ours. Usually, they just quarrel with each other. But something must have changed if they're setting their sights here."

"Is that why you're sending me away?" Rushia asked, frowning her brow.

"No. As I told you yesterday, I do believe you need experience that the lifestyle we have been following cannot give you. But I would be lying if I said the war hasn't rushed my decision. I hope I'm proved wrong, but I do not believe this will be a simple conflict. If this country is to be swallowed up by war, then the sooner you move, the better."

"But… Where do I go? Even if you tell me I should talk with living humans, it's not like they will accept me. As soon as they learn I'm a necromancer, I'll just be chased out." Rushia argued. This was one of the main points that had bothered her for the past day. She still hadn't forgotten the look in the town guard's eyes, all those years ago.

"It's true you must keep it a secret while in this country. However, this is why I commanded you to go west. There is a certain nation by the name of Hololive, months away by sea. There, necromancy is seen as just another school of magic, and the discrimination that you've had to face here should not exist. It is also a fairly recently established nation, and someone of your skills will have no trouble finding employment there. The money I'll give you will be more than enough to secure passage on a boat." Rushia's teacher patiently replied.

A nation where necromancy is not seen as evil? Is such a utopian place even real? Rushia pondered to herself. She didn't want to doubt the knowledge of her teacher, but it seemed too good to be true.

But if it is…

"If that's the case, why don't you come with me?" Rushia asked, hope coming back to her eyes momentarily. The lich, however, simply shook his head.

"Regardless of the public opinion on necromancy, this is a journey you must make without my help. Consider it a final test, if you will."

Rushia hung her head. She understood her teacher's arguments, yes, but that didn't mean she wanted to listen to them.

"I don't want to be alone again…"

The lich got up upon hearing those words.

"Child. You are a necromancer. Even before you met me, you've had the company of spirits. They will still be with you, whenever you need them. But at the same time, being only in the company of the undead will not lead you down a good path. Mastering the underworld will mean nothing if you cannot enjoy the plane of the living. I have taught you a lot during the time we've spent together, but this is perhaps my most important lesson." His solemn voice echoed through the depths of the forest.

The powerful ex-mage who was now a lich and the necromancer who was no longer an apprentice, each with a life story that could be turned into a tale to be sung for centuries. The two figures stood in silence until, suddenly, Rushia plunged herself forward.

"Wha-?"

Her two small arms embraced the lich's skeletal figure. For the first time in his un-life, this former wizard was undeniably at a loss for words.

"I will go, teacher. I will take this final test. I will travel, meet lots of people and get all this life experience you want me to have. And I will become the best necromancer, not only of this continent but of the world." Rushia let go of the lich and looked straight at him, a smile beaming brighter than the sun.

"And when I do, you better come visit me!"

"...I understand. Yes, I promise that I will."

Later that day, when Rushia was sound asleep, the undead lich sat by their campfire's flames. He did not know if he would ever again have a companion to share the heat of these with him.

I have done much to be proud of in my life. Teaching an apprentice should barely be a footnote in my achievements. And yet, it might just be the one I'm most proud of.

I'll truly miss you, my student.