Necromancy In D Minor ✔️

Spirit's Requiem

Even up in her room, Octavia heard the excited chatter from the villagers. There would be time for her to celebrate later. She wanted to draft her letter to the archives while the idea was still fresh in her mind. As she breezed by the widow, the silhouette of her plant caught her eye. She eased the curtain open and marveled at the small tree.

The thing had flourished much more than she expected, sprouting new branches and leaves every day despite the cold. Marin had given her a planter and potting soil, along with an old teapot to store water for it. The trunk was a thick as her thumb now, and the whole thing half as high as the window. To think a tiny bone turned into this.

With necromancy, death can bring forth disease and destruction or it could bring forth life and beauty.

Octavia let the curtain fall and sat on her bed, her thoughts racing. The kind of necromancy Kaleri spoke about couldn't be the same necromancy she'd learned at the archives. It was leaps and bounds beyond her comprehension or skill level. Then why would Kaleri ask her to sing the song?

The arsonist wields the flame as a weapon of destruction, but the blacksmith wields the flame as a tool of creation.

Intent was a cornerstone of necromancy one of the more difficult aspects of the art to master. Perhaps because their human minds objected to consorting with the dead. There was also the fear of tampering and digging into the art and causing another disaster. The necromancers of today weren't nearly as bold or ambitious as their forefathers.

And perhaps that was what held them back. The key to mastering necromancy didn't lie with sin and symphony, it lied with intent. Throwing away all reservations and fears about tampering with what lied beyond life.

That was what the Dawnfire Lily did, what Eli did. And it was what she needed to do to save humanity. Was that what Kaleri was trying to show her?

The revelation left Octavia shaking. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, breathing slow and even to calm her fluttering heart. If she was right, that meant...

Octavia jumped up front the bed and grabbed her jacket and flute case before running from the room. Her pounding footfalls rebounded off the walls and echoed down the corridor. The steps of the foyer slowed her down, and she nigh bumped into a group of priests headed outside. She muttered an apology and rounded the staircase heading into the northwest corridor.

When Octavia burst into the infirmary, she met Lyra and Levi in the waiting room with Annabelle.

"Octavia, is everything all right?" Levi asked.

She nodded her head as she leaned over with hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. All this time in Hedalda had left her terribly out of shape. "I didn't expect to see you all here. Lyra, how are you feeling?"

"I'm better. My ears don't hurt as much anymore. But I..." Lyra grimaced and worried the hem of her sweater.

"What is it? Is something else bothering you? Your eyes, maybe?" A lot of inconveniences came with budding necromancy, and she'd advised Levi to give his daughter some time away from school to cope.

Lyra looked down at her hands. "You knew Arietta was going to die, didn't you?"

The question hit Octavia like a slap, and she winced.

"That's why everyone was being so nice to her. Giving her gifts, asking her what she wanted to do. You all knew."

Octavia wanted to hang her head in shame. Of course Lyra, the sharp, observant girl she was, would see through their ruse. She locked gazes with Levi and his eyes pleaded with her to lie, but she shook her head. Lyra could handle it, and it was best she knew the ugly side of necromancy early.