Maid with Necromancy

Chronostasis kicked in the moment something touched Harmony's soul. It was what she’d trained the acquired stat for. No point in speeding up your perception after you've been impaled. Rather than get out of the way or fight, she accepted [Two Against the End] into her.

While she ignored the initial casting, she wasn't going to ignore anything inside of her. [Two Against the End] showed a high level of necromantic potential. The connection had a spiritual aspect; all oaths did. That was one reason she'd been able to tie Maxwell's so tight to her while the connections stat was fresh, raw, and wild.

This was more than that initial knight’s oath. Xera’s was more complicated, targeted, and pushed deeper into her soul’s layers. Harmony focused on what not to do—Don’t flinch; you could easily reject this or twist it and meddle with the process. Just accept the power. It didn’t help that she knew ways this could go wrong. Max's, with more than a little chaos, twisted portal that drew her essence in and nearly killed her in that desire to be free.  So much suffering there. Now that she was half a world away, maybe he would have time to heal the wounds he took during the Ascendant Games.

Xera's oath was extremely giving; pieces of her soul came in and created an extra barrier of protection around her skills. It was still foreign, so Harmony struggled to accept the gift. This wasn’t a skill manipulating her mind or some unfathomable or corrupting energy attacking.  All she had to do was accept and watch, which was hard because she had no idea what the oath was doing as it created those quasi-soul patches inside of her, which was teeth-grindingly difficult.

That was the first bit of meddling. Just a smidge. It wasn't like she'd taken control of the oath, boosted it with [Renew Spirit], and tied it tight with connections and [Mend].  Connections respond to that desire to accept it into her anyway. Xera's work to push past those natural resistances wasn't even needed, but together, it compounded the connection and magnified it. Neither noticed as their goals were a resounding success.

Skill after skill received the bubble of what felt like protection. The wall was permeable to not be detrimental to the swirling mana or access to any of the skills, but it was something new surrounding them. [Eternal Fable’s Heart] wanted that protection. Of all the skills Harmony didn't want to mess with. While the personality she’d associated with her abilities placidly accepted the modification,  only her [Heart] asked for it. Harmony said no. This was her soul, so she directed the oath everywhere else. Harmony sent Xera’s skill to the far corners of her container, letting it work its magic while keeping it away from her [Heart] with minimal direction so as not to affect the skill. Lastly, [Eternal Fable’s Heart] was the only place left for it to go. For this, she meddled and cut the connection.

Before she opened her eyes, she knew Xera was hurt. It wasn't a compulsion to heal her defender, but a knowledge that she'd lose something if the girl died. “Bone and blood, what did you do?!”

Xera sat on her knees, slumped over, bleeding into the spell work from dozens of small wounds, barely conscious, and weak in spirit.  

[Mend] supported by [Manipulate Dead] sealed the small wounds. [Mana Rotation] Boosted [Renew Spirit] for an extra strong renewal of the spiritual energy she'd sliced off her soul for the oath. While she had access, Harmony gave her the full makeover. Posture, hair, skin, and working on internal systems. It was similar to how she'd worked on Len for that surprise visit from his professor. Now she was stronger, more experienced, and had evolved.  

Ashes, she was as young as she looked. Her skills were all fresh and still forming.  Xera made her profession and class choice within the last year and pushed herself, or was pushed, to complete her evolution. That included a body type that was adapting to a maturing pubescent body. So young. The oath felt like a mistake too late to take back. Even now, new changes in Xera were blooming as a result of what she did.

The least she could do was renew Xera towards perfection. Remove tiny scars in her body and soul. Dead, disruptive, and damaging  portions [Manipulate Dead] helped move them to areas that would flush them from the girls' system, and [Disintegrate] worked on the stubborn ones. The paths of Xera’s energy flow slowly adjusted into a more efficient system. The beauty in everything aligned right. Harmony pulled her awareness out of the girl, letting a flash of [Cold Touch] shock her awake.

With a huge inhale, Xera gasped and straightened. “What?”

“You pushed yourself too hard, and I healed you.”

“That was not how I expected the oath to go. I can feel… you're very experienced and  in so many. I've touched it all except…”

“My [Heart] is a problem. I'm working on it. I hope it wasn't necessary for your oath.”

“No, no, we have a truly sacred link. Only a few skills come under the augmented protection of the skill. To have all but one is momentous.*

“But what does this mean for me?”

“Every link is different. That is what makes this exciting. To be linked so deeply with the strongest healer in The Academy's history, a revivalist from parts unknown on a royal scholarship. I can't wait to get to know you!”  Xera launched herself from the floor to give Harmony a great big hug.

This poor girl thinks she made a link with a healer. Not someone so bathed in death they’d been chosen by one of the classes, many had made a death sentence in necromancer and accepted it.

This was a child. How could harmony not return the hug? The act covered them both in blood.  Xera's biological age raised unasked questions about the girl's training toward advancement. “Why don't we have that drink, and you can tell me all about yourself?” That should have been how all this started rather than ended, and now she had to deal with the consequences.

The silent debate on whether she should clean the blood off them both was ended as one of the house maids' cleaning skills pulled the stains off their clothes as they left the ritual space.

Xeras tea room had woven mats and a low table rather than chairs. The cups did not have handles. [Poise and Bearing] handled the cultural differences as best as Harmony could. [Keen Investigative Awareness] took up the additional burden of piecing things together and reminded her there may be broader differences than how the staff dressed or how they drank their tea. It was excellent. Her mana reacted playfully to it as it entered her body and touched upon her soul.

“This is very good tea,” Harmony announced, breaking the silence that had been there since they entered and took their seats.

“One of my family's estates grows it,” Xera answered and took a long sip.

Too many unknowns to subtly ask this. While she could play the social game, it was best to get to the point. “How old are you?”

“I'm fourteen. I managed to get a title by evolving within the first year of my choice.”

At that age, she was splitting rats with Hyacinth, spying on aristocrats to learn manners, and using [Dust] to tidy up that night's alleyway to level up the skill. A child in a horrible situation. Knowing what it took to evolve, the same could be said about Xera.

[Poise and Bearing] needed that boost from [Mana Rotation] to keep calm. “Impressive.” Harmony choked out, her voice cracking a little with emotion.

“Do you really think that? I'd hoped to be the youngest chosen nine ever. Great Grandpa managed all my training. Called me a genius. The star of the clan. But my uncle managed to be Quartus when he enrolled at The Academy, and my great aunt was Septus. I just thought I’d…”

“They had to be older when they joined. You gained your skills so fast that I can tell they haven’t matured in your soul yet. Keeping in mind the ranking is subjective, but I suspect that was held against you. Your body hasn’t even hit young adulthood. My advisor was complaining this morning about how the ranking system penalizes traits that could be considered stepping stones to greater power.”

The child needed to stop being so harsh on herself. Can’t even tell her to go out and have fun, as all of her peers are at least a few years ahead of her and enjoying being away from their parents and partying a bit too much in ways that were not wholly appropriate for a fourteen-year-old among those several years older.

“Do you really think so?” Xera asked eagerly.

“I saw plenty of room to grow when restoring you.” That was true in more than one way. Fighting in Old Bones was a detailed study in anatomy. The child shamblers might not be stronger than adults but were more disturbing. Xera's bones hadn't reached the end of their growth.

“Maybe I'll earn a title after our evolutions solidify, and we gain our first new levels.”

Xera was obsessed with progressing when she had all the time in the world. What did children need? What had she needed at Xera’s age? “How about we get out of here and run around town to celebrate our new link?”

It was almost like she’d offered a small child a piece of cake, and they were off.

With a few nights under his leathery behind, Hyacinth had many of the shadows in the city of Ricort mapped out. He griped about the amount of walking because wards to prevent teleportation were nearly everywhere. The spots he did find were in less desirable or hard-to-reach locations. If he hadn’t learned how to jump to a shadow based on sight, some of them would have been almost impossible to reach.

Harmony stood with Xera perched on a ledge near the top of the second-highest tower in the city. It was even taller than the garden towers in Naewauld. [Poise and Bearing] worked with [Style and Grace] to keep Harmony balanced on the precarious edge. Xera walked along it as though it were five times wider than its narrow length.  “This is amazing! We can see the whole city. Even gesturing excitedly, her feet were steady.  [Keen investigative Awareness] worked to pick up tips on how she was doing it for Harmony to incorporate into herself.  With training or skill, the girl would be an impressive teammate.

“Hyacinth likes to challenge heights as a way to challenge the birds themselves. He’s been known to prey on a few when he’s in the mood for chicken.”

“But he’s so tiny and adorable.” Xera gushed about the toad.

He preened in her coat pocket. You could bribe him with compliments as easily as you could cats. His size-shifting abilities were another thing she wanted to keep reserved for only a handful of people here, and the extent to which he could get bigger.

“And a vicious predator, so don’t you forget that. Hyacinth, let's hit the slums.”

Ricort’s slums were smaller than Hazeldowns, where it seemed like a third of the city was constantly struggling. Ricort was also five times the size of Hazeldown. It showed how much work needed to be done in her hometown. Now that she had the power to do something about it. Perhaps start small and renovate a few of the places she’d been gifted by Countess Maye. How much could it cost to send a message home?

Hyacinth pulled them out of the shadows and into a dark alley with rusted, dented walls. “Your guide's travel is so different from Becca's. No paths, but with a wild feeling to the brief trips.”

“There is a lot he doesn't say about where he is from. I think he likes the mystery.”

“Greep!” he squeaked from her pocket.

As much as wealth and power were the same across many cultures, poverty was the same. The unlucky, those who made poor choices for their evolutionary path, outsiders, and criminals. Whatever curses brought their parents here, the children who lived here were still kids with needs.

The alley opened to laughter and yells, youthful voices not too distant from Xera. A makeshift metal stage played a scene crafted from a mix of puppets and illusion. Surrounded by children and a handful of adults.

Hyacinth knew exactly where she wanted to go.

The red furry puppet of Del was blasted back by a ball of fire. A classic character around the whole world.

The children laughed and clapped.

Before fame. Before the jealousy. This was the stage Kelly White sharpened her teeth on, back when Harmony considered her a loving mother. The beggar stage for the beggar queen of acting. Harmony’s happiest childhood memories were formed before they rotted as she got banished from the home they built.

Bittersweet, but in the laughter, the spark of innocence was still there.  

As strangers, the adults were instantly wary. The academy uniforms had to be recognizable even in the slums. Powerful youths could bring many things. A mix of fear and hope, Harmony had felt it herself in the distant past. Too bad she has no wealth to spread our, but that didn't mean she had nothing.

[Poise and Bearing] focused on nonthreatening body language as Harmony looked for what she needed. An old woman sat watching with the kids, an ancient, worn cloak over her shoulder, not because the evening was cold, but because it was all she had. She held a walking staff both as  an aid for old age and an emergency weapon. She was here because she'd never managed to evolve; some block or stall happened in her life, damaging three of her skills clear to soul sight.

“Go sit with the kids, I'm going to try a thing,” Harmony instructed Xera.

Approaching the old woman, Harmony curtsied low, “Honored elder, may I borrow your cloak and staff? I wish to perform a little show, and will return them after.” Harmony let a touch of authority slip into her words.

The old woman cracked a smile at the request.  

Harmony could picture the ridiculous nature of this scene through the old woman’s perspective, a lady with such a silly request.

The woman practically tossed them to her. “Go, Tertiary, go. Put on a spectacle."

There was the badge that meant status here, too. A spectacle sounded like a challenge she could tackle. Draw on all that experience performing with Ambrosia.  The wool cloak was patchy, having gone through dozens, if not hundreds, of repair skills.

[Beautician], [Manipulate Dead], and [Mend] got to work.  Dashing to the puppeteers to inform them she was going next. The juggler in line didn't object, stepping away to watch from the crowd.

“Two minutes.” The puppeteer informed her, throwing his voice in her direction.

Harmony worked on the cloak and staff; there should be time for make-up as well, while [Recall] played back the one-person act that was the founding of the world.

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