Maid with Necromancy

Harmony resisted the urge to shrink down to her normal height under the suspended competitor's gaze.. How come she wasn't this self-conscious when Maxwell summoned her?  The reminder of her agent turned her cold with anger. Seven more days and there would be a reckoning. A well-measured and properly investigated one, but also thorough.

Being tall would help her retrieve Kenny. Afterwards, she could readjust. Not that she should just cut him down. Fool me three times as a mimic, fine, but a fourth time when she had a solution, no way.

"As long as you don't mind if I test to see if you're a mimic before getting you down." She informed him.

“Just please be fast, I think my head might explode from the blood rushing to it. I’ve been up here since I raced out of that maze as quickly as I could and got stuck.”

“This might be the real one.“ Harmony warned Tyler as he arrived on the scene, panting as he’d pressed himself to follow.  

Sample collected, Harmony focused on it as Milo and Owlsley arrived as well. The boy’s frequent complaining about his luck made this an easier reaction to hunt for. The Fear of failure and being useless narrowed in on the sample. The handful of flesh withered and died at the fright. Scared to death, rather than react defensively, the way the others had.  Not a mimic. She cut him down from the webs, Owlsley creating a barrier for him to slide down more gently.

“I’ll do me next.” Harmony turned her knife to her own body only to have Tyler stay her hand.

“Harm, you don’t need to.” He insisted.

“Like she couldn’t fake a reaction if she needed to. Not that I think you are one.” Milo argued.

It was more than that. Working on the others had helped develop some understanding of their fears and the innate aspects of their evolved bodies. What secrets did hers hold? There were also political ramifications.  “I have to. That way, we can say we tested everyone.”

Taking her sickle to her side, Harmony removed the piece and let her body bleed as she used mend to help seal off the living sample. Here was a piece of her, and unlike the others, she’d never felt a trickle of fear when using [Shadowed Graves]. A problem she’d chewed on since the intrusive thought, and she had to contemplate, “what if she were a mimic, and didn’t realize it?”  Fear wasn’t the only tool she could use.

[Eternal Fable’s Heart] got to work with a touch of fate at her fingertips. While there was something with her heart that made her hesitate to use it fully, she should be relatively safe as she drew on it to write a lie she could work with. Just had to convince that bit of flesh that it wasn’t her for the fear to work. A story, everyone loved a story, even if this one ended in death and blood rather than a happy ending.

Once upon a time, you were not… As the words aimed to work, each letter felt greater resistance. A fight she could face against a harmless lump of flesh. Even sealed, her stat of connections should work here, this time to break rather than strengthen links. With this inky fate, she crossed out “not” and replaced it with Free.  Snapping the connection to her, it now felt alien in her hand. Something ready to feel [Shadowed Graves]. Except it wasn’t fully separated, a thread of fate stayed as the only connection stringing from her removed fingertip to that final period of what she wrote. Odd, getting fate to keep any consistency past a close layer of skin had been a challenge abandoned when she learned the true use of fate from that modified [Ink Heart].

Rather than fade, the separated bit of flesh pulled on that thread.  First, a gentle tug that should have snapped it. Too strong, it went taunt, and when it did not break as it continued to pull, Harmony moved her sickle to cut with an edge of [Disintegrate] and her full strength. The blade rebounded, nearly knocked out of her grip. “Ashes!”  The bit of flesh yanked harder, pulling the fate out of her, causing a line of soul damage. With that fate, it continued to write. Words in no language she knew glowed on what she held, as it twisted in her hand. It felt dangerous, as [Recall] brought memories of the dead copy.

"Back!” Harmony enforced the order with authority as she dropped what she’d created and used [High Kick] to flee, one part of her ready to use [Stride Before the Fall]

They followed directions at least. She was still enough of a leader for that. It saved people a few limbs as that bit of herself detonated, gripping the edge of reality and pulling it inward, creating a hole, not black but a shade of color that hurt minds to try to understand. Reality reasserted itself, but the damage in the form of a splitting headache was done, leaving everyone blinking and grunting in pain.

What in the eighteen floors of crawler hell was that?” Owlsley barked out, still holding her head.

“Proof I’m not a mimic,” Harmony answered.

“More likely a bloody demon.” Owlsley finished while still in pain.

Reactive cold anger, rarely seen since she evolved, dropped the woods' temperature slightly.

“Sorry, Lady White. I didn’t mean to imply. It’s kind of a standard curse where I’m from.” Owlsley corrected.

Part of her contemplated this as a new weapon, but the burning down her arm where the fate had been ripped out and danger pulsing in her soul warned her not to try this particular mess, even with all the seals. “I understand. I was shocked too.” Nervous vibes continued through her [Familiar Bond]. “We’ve dallied long enough.”

Smoke. The hazy scent of magical fire that burned your nose and made your skills itch at its unnatural beginnings. Natural fire didn't have that same reaction.  The soul damage magnified the feeling, like ants had been placed in Harmony’s skin.

Shelters burned across the camp as pillars of smoke rose from burning earth. They'd never be home, but after weeks, people had shaped the makeshift shelters into places of privacy or relaxation. A lot of contribution points or swapped for luxuries, and now they were gone, the landscape reshaped with damage everywhere.

“Cracked stones.” Milo cursed at the sight.

How hard was waiting until they got back? “Let’s make sure they’re safe.” Why hadn’t their bonds informed them it had gotten this bad?

The tribe's unofficial meeting place was one of the few places not on fire because the perpetual stew snuffed out the fire that had kept it going; the large, makeshift pot was cut in half, and its contents sat cold on the coals.  Several still intact spider lights covered the area, but about half as many as had been set up.  Hyacinth waited, his size adjusted to that of a large dog. Loap stood beside him, wearing armor, bleeding knuckles around the shaft of a spear she used to prop herself up. Socks dozed to the side, while Pappi rushed down to Milo. “You all right, boy? You're the real one, right?”

“I told you that earlier.” Milo protested as the astral spirit checked him over as he would a patient.

Loap hobbled over. “Well, we haven’t heard anything from you since you entered the woods. It’s been a leaping cesspool here since you left.”

Harmony reached out with [Familiar Bond].  

Hyacinth nodded in confirmation.

Who had they been communicating with? What had they been communicating with? No. She knew. Somehow, this imposter had mimicked their companions and intercepted the messages.  It knew they had a way of detecting it.  A problem to be resolved soon.

“Fine. Where is bleeding everyone else? And what trashed this place?” Harmony asked.

“That’s a bit complicated.”  Loap started.

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