Maid with Necromancy

“oH nOeS, yOu’RE tHe NuMbeR One StUdeNT.” Ambrosia mocked while doing a little dance like one of her birds before straightening up. “Over here we have to deal with Lord Tyler pushing, not to be the lord of Hazledown, but temporary regent awaiting your return.  Hazeldown gangs having a private little war on Naewauld over the riots, fires, and disrespect. And people only want songs celebrating the city; if I don’t write one I’ll be considered out of style.” Done with her little vent, the blonde hugged Harmony’s summoned form around the waist. “Sorry you were attacked. Maybe next time let some stay dead.”

It was only fair they both got to blow off some steam privately.  Both of them were missing so much, but that was life when you were away. And Harmony wished she could be out here tackling problems with Ambrosia, but they each had their dirty jobs. And hers was to bring the tools of the wider world back to their backwater. Even now, as her friend’s arms were around her waist, she was aware of what was missing compared to what was common elsewhere in the world. What monster would best fit her friend, assuming she could master half-step potions?  “I’d better get to work.”

Stacks of completed books sat to the side, ready to distribute to her school. Copies of her previous thefts.  Her work table was massive to accommodate her summoned size, since shrinking would deplete her resources. Everything from a pile of powered ink for [Dust] to sheets of animal skin for [Manipulate Dead] to work on was waiting. Anything and everything to minimize using chaos energy and extend the time she could be in Hazeldown stealing knowledge.

Back at the Immortalists library, Harmony perused the sparse shelves. With the time she had and the coded system she used for scribes to translate, she could select two volumes in an ideal situation.  Not that this library had anything of quality, but that could change. The conversation with Threnody had her leaning toward a modified approach of making annotated versions, since she was copying them over anyway. Lady White’s personal observations and notes on… she grabbed a book, The Moonlight Sculptor’s Carving Methods, and put it back.  She’d never get through all the books; choices should be made carefully.

Halfway into her choice, maybe she’d been a little ambitious with the idea of quickly completing an annotated version. [Recall] would allow her to thumb through each page quickly and copy it over, but adding thoughts and opinions took time, and the topic mattered. This book wasn’t picked because of her interest, even if some snippets had potential. Perhaps, if this book were about skills or cleaning, she’d be able to copy it with comments quickly?

“I didn’t know you liked to read about how music soothed the troubled soul?” Steward Bellwether asked.

Harmony stifled any reaction to the old man’s comment. This was a community house where privacy would be limited in some ways, even if it granted a different kind of protection from those interested in her new status. She’d picked Tailchaser’s Song because of Ambrosia and her bandmates. Books on musical theory were uncommon in Hazeldown. Not being a focus of personal interest made the annotation difficult as she had to align the book's ideas about the soul with her thoughts.

“Inspiration comes from everywhere, and I have friends who love music,” Harmony answered, as half the world away Ambrosia practiced her latest diddy while Harmony copied the pages.

“Yes, yes, and the new rank, with the move here, your presence is inspiring a lot of change, and this is with me only reading some of Byerly’s words to you. I’m gathering a research team from former Immortalist alumni. Do you think you’d be interested in watching us work from time to time?”

Tugging at the soul. The words jumped out of the page as Bellwether asked his question. And part of herself demanded she keep reading. One of the issues with a summoned copy of herself was making you be of two minds.

Watch Immortalist work? Even with all the flashy words Milwep spouted, who cared about living forever? She had the finality of death baked into her soul. The idea that everything eventually would die was a fundamental part of her being. Even those who stepped into the second life of being undead only existed so long. You couldn’t grind away the shamblers and gorooze’s in Old Bones without coming away with an appreciation of an extra final end that kept you from dying.

Steward Bellwether had a pleading look under his bushy white eyebrows.

Words, the book was getting good! Song connects to the history of a person. We sing of our ancestors who escaped to this world.

The old man was waiting for an answer. She’d come here because entry was free, they had a library, and she eventually stayed because she could exploit them.  That didn’t mean free was without responsibilities. Answer then read.

“If you think it would help. Just let me know when and I’ll check to see if it doesn’t conflict with my schedule.” Harmony blurted out as she turned pages.  Calling out strength from your team's souls with song can come from the root, the body they earned, or the one they idealize. Understanding is key.

“Perfect. I’ll leave you to read.” Bellwether said, stepping away.

With the old man’s disturbance gone, Harmony was able to focus back on the work. Who talked to someone with their face in a book anyway? As she stole, she made notes about Alex’s golden wearbear body type being a legacy, and linked that to the reference of history and being a body he’d earned. She mused about the possibility she’s undercutting the strength coming from the unmodified half; if she could boost the monster, why not the man too? After twenty pages of copying and annotating, Harmony realized what she committed to. “Bloody ashes.”  This is what she got for trying to do too many things at once.

“Do you like my song?” Ambrosia asked, exemplifying the point.

“Sorry, Ambs, I got distracted.”

“It’s okay. I know I joked about you being the number one student coming into school, but I know you’re working hard despite stumbling into first place. I just miss you. Bates and I are essentially the bosses at this place, and that makes it lonely, as Bates is about as warm as a thousand-year-old corpse. He’s stiff, lacking in humor, and all business.”

“He isn’t that bad.” Harmony quipped.

“That’s because he likes you,” Ambrosia answered.

“How is Bea doing?” Harmony asked to change the subject.

“It’s eerie. If I didn’t know what she was, I’d miss how well she is fitting in in most situations. Only when I ask her to report to me does she let the social mask slip, so clearly it takes effort. That and she doesn’t sleep.  Oh, she could pretend to doze if it was needed, but clearly feels like it is a waste of productivity.”

If only Marci Winters was as reliable. The potential soulless would have to survive a week without attention, since she’d gotten word that was how long campus security would stay. Part of the plan had been to maybe have a team of useful undead. What necromancer wouldn’t find such a thing useful?

Not to only focus on the undead staff members. Harmony checked in on all the staff as she finished putting together the book. Bits of gossip Ambrosia’s bird picked up, along with practical news like how Steven and Tess evolved, the two Harvest of Talents participants had pushed hard during the riots and trained after in Nae’s Garden.  More half-step potions to acquire.

Chaos energy waned as Harmony closed the book in the library. It was time to say goodbye.

“What will I do without you?”

“Knowing you, and after what happened between your last visits, get into a bunch of trouble,” Ambrosia answered during the goodbye hug.

Letting that existence fade out, Harmony approached Saren Byerly’s book. Now that her position as Association Archivist was secure, it still took Milwep and Bellwether to join her to open the case. Don’t Panic. Why those words, and why written in blood?  True sight wouldn’t divulge anything more. The case had seals on it masking some of what she could potentially see.

Damaged as it was, some information had to be hidden inside once you repaired it. More than the copy she’d seen. Maybe it was time to prove she could handle it. A book from the bane of necromancers. Now that she lives here, she should have plenty of time to do that.

Ripping her eyes away, Harmony went back to her room for more practical pursuits. The room she’d picked was still a mess and falling apart. Work was never done.

An hour into reconstruction, Adric showed up with a case of those cans of ale, as well as Alex, Tasha, Tun-Knee, Becca, and Xera  in tow with a pile of tools and a stack of sheet metal to replace the dented and rusted bits.

“What good is a pet who can’t tell when their master needs company?”

He tossed Harmony a can.  

[Style and Grace] made it a smooth catch.

It hadn’t been long enough to pester them about their research into the prisoner’s keys. None of them volunteered to tell how their association with the new su-primus was affecting them, but [Keen Investigative Awareness] picked up on the extra edge of tiredness.

[Cold Touch] chilled the beers.

[Shadowed Graves] through a slight touch spread some awe as [Renew Spirit] relaxed the soul. With them doing this for her, this was the least she could do for them.

Harmony knew she didn’t have the singing voice Ambrosia did, but an old drinking song came to mind as they used skills and magic to meld the sheets into place and repair what had been lost.

“Wet the lips and run the air. Drink the swill, till the mean girls seem fair. And if the boys do fight. That’s a story to tell another night.”

Adric had heard this song before.

“Down another one, my friend. Down another one.”  He added for the chorus.

The song started simple till you added lines about your friends. “Drink, but leave the booze be, because you’re barely old enough for tea.” Harmony teased Xera.

“Down another one, my friend. Down another one.” Tun-Knee joined in.

The idea got around, and everyone had a line.

“Oh, my pretty little elf. I’ll not keep you on a pedestal, but on a shelf.” Adric joked towards Becca.

Until Tasha toppled over, mumbling “Bear.. Bear, bear, bear… Bear.” to Alex.

He’d mostly stayed sober, due to his issues earlier in the year with drinking. “I think it’s time to get her home.

Everyone said their goodbyes. The way Adric and Becca were looking at each other made it clear they were leaving together. Was that something to worry about after Defense Against the Forbidden Arts?

Alone again, but at least the place was more put together. Harmony spent a minute gathering empty cans, pausing only when she got to the spot where a spray of black ash covered the floor where Tasha had fallen over drunk. Ash wasn’t right, as [Dust] did nothing to the black mark; the spray of black had no powder in it, but was black char that was part of the metal, infused into it. [Recall] showed it hadn’t been there before.

Harmony understood she was the last person to chase after someone and demand their secrets, but couldn’t help but know that whatever this was, it was her fault.

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