The Necromancer's Stone; Creator

"Give me my book, and I'll only kill you."
"Your negotiating skills need some work.  For starters, there are two of us and we kicked your but last time.  Second, we have the book, you have death threats."
Hal pulled his sword out and stepped off the bed.  "And death threats are a really half-hearted way of threatening people anyways.  Give us some credit and make a real threat."
Thalia slid on to the floor and assumed a defensive stance.  "All this time I thought I was the only one who thought that about death threats."
"Has it ever stopped you from using them?"
"I love the classics."
"If you two are going to keep flirting, I really will just kill you."
They both turned to the young, oddly conversational, Assassin.  They couldn't tell much about her; an estimation of her age(about fourteen), the color of her hair (dyed black), Thalia could even tell that she had a good bit of money behind her (Steelsil couldn't be conjured, and she was wearing it like it was cotton).  But anything beyond that was uncertain.  She had a face mask and goggles on, making it hard to tell what she was thinking.
"Right!  You better be ready to turn over something a little bit more pointed than a death threat if you want us to go and give you back the hit list that lead you to our parents."
"You assume I need to negotiate."
She flipped her blades into position and charged.  Hal intervened and deflected her blow, forcing her back and giving Thalia room to work her magic.  Thalia launched a series of icy spikes at her opponent.  Or rather, she would have, but the magic refused to operate for no apparent reason.
"Told you I'd thought ahead.  I blocked out every kind of magic that could cause damage; no illusions, no destruction, no conjuring anvils over people's heads.  Only healing, enhancements,"  They didn't need to see her face to see her grin.  "Basically, my skills."
"You're an assassin with a talent for healing?"  Hal's blow was shunted aside and he dodged the counter that followed.
"At least I can use magic.  Right now neither of you can do a thing against me."  She rolled over Hal's retaliatory slash and managed to land a cut across his arm before he could fully dodge it.  Before either of them could continue fighting, the wound resealed itself seamlessly.
"What kind of idiot only knows combat?"  She tugged at the air and the door flew open.  "Luninda, Jaron, she found us."
The two Ga-Vok warriors barely managed to get through the door at the same time, Luninda pulling her axe from her side and Jaron coming with his hands open.  The Assassin seemed to pause at the sight of the two, but then swept Hal's feet from under him and charged them both.  She ducked under Luninda's wide axe swing and dislocated the warrior's left leg with a well placed jab.  Then she stabbed at Jaron.  He took it straight to the chest, pulling the blades deep with his own hands.  Luninda screamed something unintelligible, and Hal pulled himself up and began to charge the two.  But Jaron just held the Assassin close and seemed to whisper something to her.  As he finished, the assassin now sweating visibly, he began to howl.  And Thalia remembered what her mother had said before her death.
The four classical elements, combined with blood, and prayer; It couldn't be destruction, or illusion, and chances were that she couldn't even summon anything.  Healing would never use an element, and enchantment didn't seem relevant in her situation.  That really only left one school, and she felt a strong compulsion to grind palm into her forehead at how obvious it was.  She'd tried every element, blood, even raw magic; her research should've shown her this conclusion.  The strength of each of the four, complimenting each other perfectly, the cunning and strength of blood, but even with all of that life held a spark that neither magic nor science had ever been able to grasp.  But it did force her to do something she'd never really been good at doing.
"God, let this work."  Thalia let the forces flow out and mingle in the manner that seemed to work best.  Necromancy was an art, it had to be felt.  And the way that it all wanted to flow was unlike anything she'd ever done before.  She felt the golem, no, this was far more than any golem, the being forming within reality.  It was a projection not simply of her desire for a warrior, but her dream of a champion.  And it was more than that, it was a person; a being all its own.  That was the divine part of it all; the part she could never give it on her own.  She drew Jaron's dying blood from the blade of the Assassin, letting it leap through the air in crimson ribbons.  As the last of it joined the form, the being crystallized into a purple humanoid.  It was seven foot and a bit, clothed in a leather kilt and armed with muscles like steel cable.  She released the spell and fell to her knees.  It was exhausting to perform any spell of that magnitude, although admittedly less exhausting than she would have expected.  Then a hand reached down and she heard a voice.
"Creator, do you require assistance?"