Drabble Series: The Necromancer

I was a fool to go back emptyhanded, a fool who had wasted three years and more, had destroyed his name in pursuit of this quest, and I would be more foolish still—I would stand on my head. The dark stone was rough against my palms, coarse like weathered glass, and it was cold like nothing else I know is cold, freezing me now with just a memory of it, but as I dangled from that strange plain, there was a shift; I was upright and deep in a cavern. Above the behemoth moved, eating the stars like grass.