The dust had barely settled in the crypt. The ghoul's crumpled remains smoldered slightly from Mira's last spell, the eerie green glow finally fading from its hollow eyes. The only sound was the group's ragged breathing.
And the occasional skeletal clacking from Bones.
Arlan stared at his undead companion, still reeling from what had just happened.
Bones—the tiny, reliable, slightly unsettling skeletal rat—had just grown, mutated, and temporarily turned into a giant undead chicken.
Leila, still sitting on the ground and rubbing her throat where the ghoul had grabbed her, finally broke the silence.
"So… that happened."
Tomas groaned as he hauled himself up, clutching his ribs. "We're… we're just gonna ignore that?"
"I—" Mira exhaled, shaking her head. "I don't even know how to acknowledge that."
Beren, still wincing from the claw marks on his arm, shot Arlan a look. "Your rat just turned into a giant chicken."
Arlan opened his mouth. Closed it. Then sighed. "Yeah. I noticed."
Leila turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "No, but how? That's not normal."
"No kidding," Arlan muttered, glancing at Bones, who was now back in his usual rat form, blinking up at him with glowing green eyes.
Bones, completely unbothered by the insanity he had just unleashed, clicked his teeth happily.
Arlan rubbed his temples. "I don't know what happened. One second, he was attacking, and then—boom. Chicken."
Tomas leaned against a broken stone pillar. "You know, I've fought a lot of weird stuff in the past month. Skeletons. Slimes. Goblins." He pointed at Bones. "But that? That's the weirdest thing I've ever seen."
Arlan couldn't even argue.
Mira was still staring at Bones, her gaze calculating. "There's something more to him," she murmured. "Familiars don't just evolve. Not like that."
Arlan shifted uncomfortably. The truth was, he had no idea what was happening with Bones either. This wasn't some ordinary summoned creature. There was something else at play here.
And deep down, he had a feeling it had something to do with his own magic.
The thought sent a shiver down his spine.
Leila exhaled, shoving herself to her feet. "Alright. As much as I love sitting around discussing cursed skeletal farm animals, can we leave? I'd like to never step foot in this crypt again."
"Agreed," Beren muttered, flexing his injured arm. "We got what we came for."
Mira hesitated, her gaze flicking toward the remains of the ghoul. "Not exactly."
Tomas groaned. "Oh, come on. What now?"
Mira knelt beside the ghoul's corpse, brushing her fingers against the scorched remains of its chest. "This wasn't a normal undead. It wasn't just some mindless revenant left behind." She looked up, her expression grim. "Someone created this."
The group fell silent.
Leila frowned. "You mean… someone raised it?"
Mira nodded. "And not just that. This thing was powerful. Controlled. It spoke. It recognized us."
Arlan's stomach twisted.
You reek of something… familiar.
The ghoul's words echoed in his mind, and he swallowed hard. It had known something about him—about his magic.
But he couldn't tell the others that.
Not yet.
Beren scowled. "So, what? There's a necromancer somewhere raising ancient horrors?"
Mira's lips pressed together. "It's possible."
"That's… bad, right?" Tomas asked.
Leila shot him a deadpan look. "No, Tomas, it's great news. Maybe they'll send us an invitation to tea."
Tomas huffed. "I was just asking."
Mira stood, dusting off her hands. "It means this crypt isn't just some abandoned dungeon. It means someone's been here before us—and they were powerful enough to leave that thing behind." She looked around warily. "And if they find out we've disturbed it… they might come back."
The group exchanged uneasy glances.
Arlan clenched his fists, trying to push down the creeping dread in his gut.
The ghoul was gone. But whatever—or whoever—had created it?
They weren't done yet.
Duskhaven – Guild Hall
By the time they reached the surface, the cool night air was a relief. The crypt's oppressive weight had settled on them like a curse, and no one was in a talking mood on the way back to town.
Mira immediately went to report their findings to the guild, while the rest of the group collapsed into chairs at their usual table.
Tomas groaned, stretching. "Never thought I'd be happy to smell cheap ale and sweaty adventurers."
Beren nodded, rolling his shoulder. "Better than that crypt."
Leila leaned back, rubbing her temples. "I think I'm gonna be haunted by that undead chicken for the rest of my life."
Arlan barely heard them.
He was too focused on Bones.
His familiar sat on the table in front of him, clicking his teeth idly, as if nothing insane had just happened. But Arlan knew better.
This wasn't a small change.
Bones had evolved.
And that meant something.
He exhaled slowly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward, whispering, "Hey, Bones. Can you… do it again?"
Bones tilted his skull.
Then, in the absolute worst way possible, he tried.
There was a loud cracking sound—and suddenly, the tiny skeletal rat morphed again.
Into a skeletal frog.
Arlan jerked back. "What the hell?!"
Bones blinked at him. Then, with another sickening crunch, he changed again.
This time?
A skeletal squirrel.
Tomas, mid-sip of his drink, slowly lowered his cup. "I am too tired for this."
Leila, who had been resting her head on the table, cracked an eye open. "No. No, I'm not dealing with that."
Arlan panicked. "Bones! Stop it!"
Bones clicked happily and shrunk back into his usual rat form.
Tomas rubbed his face. "I swear to the gods, if he turns into something worse, I'm quitting adventuring."
Leila groaned, covering her face. "Please don't let him turn into a cow. I can't handle a skeleton cow."
Beren, amused, smirked. "What if he turns into a skeleton horse? That might actually be useful."
"Don't encourage this," Leila hissed.
Arlan sighed, shoving his face into his hands.
Bones had shape-shifting abilities now.
And that meant chaos.
He was never going to hear the end of this.