Maid with Necromancy

“We are all refugees.”  Harmony's voice quivered as she said the opening line. Using the staff as its intended crutch. The cloak obscured her whole body, and the hood obscured her face. On the outside, both still looked like the ratty old things she’d borrowed.

This was Harmony's favorite play because everyone performed it differently. Liberties of option. Sometimes the temple priests would chase off the heretical versions. Villains and heroes swapped places, and no one cared how crazy the performers got. Kelly liked to do it because she didn't have to share the stage with anyone.

Harmony’s voice moved from weak to strong. “Our realities were ending. People from thousands of branched and twisting paths that pulled our ancestors away from destruction, each given a thread towards salvation, here, our new home. We are all born from those refugees led here by the gods among them. The gods we strive to become!”

Straightening, Harmony shed the shell of the old cloak she'd built improvements in revealing the results of the work she'd put into it. [Disintegrate] Broke down the outside while (dust) gathered at the bottom with (manipulate dead) turning it into a longer golden hem in what was revealed to be a cloak with bright reds, blues, and green that cut across in diagonal stripes. The staff gleamed red, polished, and looked new in her hands. Easier to adapt than the floorboards she'd worked on back home.  It was good to no longer be sealed.

Harmony stared down at the children, Xera included. [Beautician] turned her face into a mask, a canvas she could shape for the show. A shell made of dust, dirt, skin bits, and hair. Those same stripes of blue, red, and green covered her face for the opening.

The stillness of the reveal was for but a moment. Harmony twirled the staff and danced as she continued to speak, shifting the cloak’s colors and her face to accompany the words she spoke.

“Fractured people with fractured magic. Conflicts arose as those born of fire struggled with those of ice.  While the magic of death tangled with life. Polarized as opposites.“ Her cloak shifted from red to pale blue, and from white to black. The image on her face changed with the words, and [Poise and Bearing] struck a pose for each faction mentioned. Death usually has a cowering form in this play. Harmony took a proud pose, her face painted with a skull. “Their battles scratched the surface of our new world as their languages, customs, and needs were at odds.” She twirled, shifted, and lashed out, playing both sides of the conflict.

“Squabbling refugees boiled seas, raised mountains, shattered plains, and still they were welcomed by the land. Surviving blood, bodies, and cultures intermixed. The world took note of the changes people made, and so those born in this new land were offered choices on whom they wanted to become as the world took in the magic, knowledge, and power the strangers had brought with them.”

Harmony danced as she spoke, releasing a glowing, chilly mist. [Renew Spirit] mixed with [Cold Touch], as she has done for performances with Songstress and the Flows. She added a new twist with [Shadowed Graves], making the mist rumble with flashes of darkness like storm clouds, giving little jolts of fearful awe.  She'd wanted to introduce that for Ambrosia on the big stage. Her friend always enjoyed the dramatic.

“It was a wild, stormy time. Some walked the path of the gods who took them here. Others worshiped the sun, elements, and nature. Each was gifted with choices relating to their journeys. People foolishly tried to define what the right way was.”

There was that touch of heresy, at least if performed in Hazeldown. Harmony let the thick mist heal those it touched among the crowd. The audience was growing as word spread, but it was still small compared to the packed arenas she'd performed in before. Here, she had the density to help those who might need it.

[Stride Before the Fall] Split part of herself inside of her soul to handle the extra mental and magical labor.  It made her feel overstuffed, but she's done it before when her soul had been attacked by Max’s stupidity. Here was a practical test on the limits of what she could do while flexibly working with the skill. The second mind allowed her to heal and work on the old woman's damaged skills while keeping her intricate footwork with [Style and Grace].

“Civilizations rose and fell as they beat back those stormy wilds. Working to heal the damage we brought when we arrived. Dungeons formed as stabilizing anchors. And the gods that brought us here moved on to other interests. Yet we remain, refugees, immigrants, and new natives walking a path to a better future.”

She cut this version of the play a little short. Splitting off had been too much, and the strain of existing in that manner twisted her gut as two [Eternal Fable’s Heart] overlapped, creating  an unstable rhythm to her living one in her chest.  Her vital body could keep going, but she'd overdone it with the mass healing. The [Stride] experiment was only a partial success as she dismissed it.

With one final spin and twirl of the staff, she gave a deep bow, dispersing the magic and breaking the mask from her face.

Xera joined the kids, including a few older than her, in the clapping. Let her have these moments of youth.

Harmony hopped down from the stage and walked back to the old woman who was touching her chest, feeling the old wounds that were now healed.  “Thank you, elder.” With a bow, she returned the now-modified cloak and staff to the old woman.

The woman cackled. “It was quite a show. One we'll remember.” She leaned in for a whisper. “It might have attracted the wrong kind of attention, though.”

Harmony nodded her head in thanks. She didn't need the warning. Hyacinth has gained quite the knack for spotting unsavory characters likely to cause violence. Three had arrived for the tail end of the show.

Xera gave her another hug as she returned to fetch the girl, “That was wonderful. Was your starting profession that of an actress? Actress to eraser must have been an interesting journey. And that skill?” Xera asked excitedly.

“[Material Manipulation].” Harmony answered using the cover for [Manipulate Dead] she and Von Trell had come up with. “I'm familiar with the stage, as those with authority should. But the greatest singer I know is a beast tamer without a musical profession. We’re more than our choices.” Harmony focused on the pride of Ambrosia’s accomplishments, a touch of sadness that she wasn’t here, leaked in. “Let's get going.”

The two walked back down the alleyway they arrived through.

It wasn't a surprise when a suppression field slammed down on them as they nearly reached the end. The adults here were almost all deep into their first evolution or had passed their second.  Harmony's nose itched similarly to heavily warded areas; there would be no easy teleporting out of here.

“Has anyone ever told you there are places Academy students shouldn't go?”

Three ruffians in rusted metal armor approached from behind. A shakedown, not an ambush.

Xera moved in front of Harmony. “I'll protect you, Healer.”

The shortest of the three whispered to the man who spoke. “Sixteen… and three.” Harmony’s ears caught.

The man leader was past his second evolution, while his lackeys hadn't yet hit that level. Harmony hadn't gotten to challenge someone so strong since she had fought Brix in the dungeon club. This could be a decent test.

“There are bounties for students among some of the more dangerous groups in the city. For a fee, we can escort you too…”

“Billy, stop being a rusted shackle!”

The yell from behind did make their ambushers flinch. The large man, nearly Countess Maye’s size, swaggered into the scene.

“Bantz, they haven't paid the toll.’

“She performed for the kids, and old Gelly says she feels better than she has for years. That's more than enough as a payment. Pestering rankers looking for a fight is a good way to get a trip to the healers. One that you can't afford.”

Billy grunted.

“Sorry, ladies, but you're going to have to look for your fun elsewhere.” With a whistle, the welcoming party moved away, and the suppression ended.

At least she now knew someone who had power in the slums. Bantz. [Recall] cataloged that away with the many others she was gathering. A small scrap would have been useful.

“What's he talking about?” Xera asked.

“Nothing.”

Hyacinth dropped down from his spot he'd been watching from up above and landed on Harmony’s shoulder. “Greep.” He complained. The predator always liked a fight. Not tonight.

“Let's get you back home,” Harmony told Xera as she pulled the girl through the shadows.

That night, Harmony expected troubled dreams, but not to remember them. She was still asleep when clarity hit. The Hazeldown manor’s walls were broken and burnt. That could be a nightmare, but new construction was already underway. Even as the scent of ash lingered. mixed with the woodiness of the fresh-cut lumber.  This was too real.

“My apologies for taking so long, Lady White. I wanted to make sure I had enough energy to make this a proper visit.” Max’s voice cut through to her.

Agent Maxwell Bitterly knelt before her as she towered above the man. His pink beard now had violet vines woven into it and small green flowers blooming. She could feel the trauma of his experiences from The Ascendant Games in him. His words held an earnestness that wasn't there before, and Harmony felt a compulsion to protect his tender heart. She’d been summoned.

​“Harm, welcome home!” Ambrosia yelled, and she wasn’t alone. Staff, new and old, waited for her. Even the familiar face of the bookie, Gareth, stood next to the whole band from The Flows, looking odd in staff uniforms instead of their performance outfits.

As Harmony snored back at The Academy, one part of herself stared at her gathered found-family. At both locations, tears wetted her cheeks. “It’s good to be home.”

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