Kit Falbo
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Chapter Nineteen
🕑 Added 2024-07-22 15:09:25 +0000 UTCChapter Nineteen
Colorful toy feather bits, scraps of prince masks, sticks from kabobs, and other remnants of the city-wide hysteria from the funeral procession lay scattered at the corners of the steps up the House of the Dead. The trash remained, the lines were gone, and the citizens moved on. The first few days, you had to wait for hours to go in and get a viewing of the prince and his pet, but the novelty quickly wore off. Those still entranced by the situation could choose to read put-together books of fictionalized adventures of the duo and their tragic demise quickly.
Harmony passed more people leaving for the evening than she saw going into the temple as she made her way up the steps. It was too much to hope for the place being empty when she attempted this. She'd considered breaking in, having Hyacinth map the shadows, and teleport her after closing time. The law was less kind to that behavior than simply taking an unclaimed body using her necromancer class.
An attendant in cleric's robes waited at the open doors. "Donation?" She asked.
Harmony dropped an iron coin into the pail she was holding.
"The temple will close in fifteen minutes. Enjoy your visit."
That didn't leave much time, but it explained why most people were going. The prince's corpse was on a platform in the back of the large room, his body resting on top of his coiled pet like it was on a rainbow bed of feathers. Some rope corded off the area to keep people out of arm's reach. The audience would be small.
An older couple searched the most recent book of the dead, grief on their face as they looked for a missing loved one.
One young woman stood there with a young boy, looking more bored than interested. The child was excited, pointing at the still body of the Coatl.
"It moved! It moved!" The kid excitedly gestured.
"Don't be silly, Ben." The girl answered.
"I'm not silly. I will be a mighty adventurer and get a pet like that!"
Harmony, having just stepped up, made eye contact with the girl.
"Sorry." She mouthed to her as she grabbed Ben's hand. "Come on, let's head home. I'll read you The Dragon Bird Prince after dinner."
"But it moved!" The boy cried as he was dragged away.
Harmony eyed the coatl. It wasn't moving. Long and wrapped up into a spiral with its wings tucked along its body, it was hard to see much of it. A short clawed limb. A small gold ear or horn of a head tucked most of the way into the coils. Bright, flashy, and out of place for the temple. With her [Manipulate Dead] skill, Harmony figured she could change the bright colors into a lovely forest green or an unobtrusive black or dark gray.
Out of her bag, she pulled the scroll and a little bundle. The vials, tooth, and cores all rattled together. She'd used the ghost lace to tie all the other components into a package.
The fallen prince's body would get disturbed by this. He was not as pretty as he was on the day of the procession but more hollow and dried out. Still unearthly irritatingly attractive. No one had the right to be that pretty even dead. Harmony searched for the outside influence of a skill or something affecting her, like that charming effect from the gang member that hit her earlier. The thrumming rotation of mana as the necromancer's senses revealed nothing.
It wasn't like she felt passionate or attracted to the dead man. It is more like looking at an excellently done painting or work of art. The kind of reaction she'd hoped to get when she sculpted the matriarch to the latest fashions. A vision her [Beautician] resonated with, but nothing more.
"You're dead, so you won't mind if I borrow your friend." She told the prince's corpse.
"Ten Minutes until closing!" The cleric manning the entrance yelled.
Harmony's heartbeat quickened, but her perception of it slowed. Time to get some use out of chronostasis. She weighed the pouch in her hand, drawing on the knowledge of both [Small Armor] and [High Kick] for this attempt, information gleaned about targeting and hitting what you aimed for. A flick of the wrist to an underhanded toss sent her little component bag soaring over the rope and toward her target.
The scroll had few directions to it. Getting it from Lord Tyler had prompted her to review the bits she read on activating them. Like everything else, people debated the best way to do it. Spacing of the ingredients, timing, and eliminating distractions. One common thread is that brute force could help or make the failure extra-spectacular. Which is a risk here, but no risk, no gain.
The pouch landed with a plop on the coatl's coil. Despite the inconvenience of its size, she was grateful it had enough space to separate the bag from the prince by arm's length. If she'd missed so badly as to land on him, she'd need to hop the rope and fix the positioning.
She flexed her mana. Brute force is something she can do here. Activating [Mana Rotation], the spiraling churn started to speed up. It was time to use the rest of her stats here. Synergy pulled strength from her necromantic skills. Sure, she could have just pumped in straight mana into the scroll, but it required her to be a necromancer, so she figured it would be best to feed in filtered through that. Her [Familiar Bond] should be a good blueprint, that base feeling of death from [Manipulate Dead], [Renew Spirit] for that semblance of life. Even that understanding of the still finality of death from [Cold Touch], despite this possibly being contrary to that state, for when all things settled, they had the potential to move again if enough energy was added.
Connection played into synergy's strengths binding everything together tighter in old ways and linked in new ways. Harmony could feel the fields and bonds that united the spell components and her through the vials of blood. Strong, she wanted this to be strong. Intent; use of skills, mana, and effort was simply exercising intent and hoping, no, forcing it to work out as you wanted.
She surged all her mana into the scroll like she was feeding a skill. Having it be supercharged and then emptying all that energy and meaning from the movement inside her soul and then any extra reserves until she felt as still and drained and cold.
In her hands, the scroll glowed like a burning fire. With the ache of slowed perception, she could hear the beginning of a yell behind her. Now or never. She cracked it, and it snapped in half like it wanted to explode.
Even with her increased perception, it was hard to see the energy move from the scroll to the components. There was that flicker of connection where the pieces were separate, and then they were one. Smoothed and solidified away from the tangible into the intangible, sitting on her target. Anticipation gripped her as she waited for it to sink in, raise that pet, and build the bond between her and it.
That spell ingredient mixture shot out one end, piercing her in a stream of energy. She could feel it returning some of what she put into it and reigniting movement out of the stillness of her soul as it added a new bond to the mix. The other half of the magic shot out, not down into the still coatl, across that arm's length, and into the corpse of Prince Adric.
Harmony was ready to nope right out of there, but the hooks in her soul were already there. Built, strengthened, and dedicated by that vicious intent of wanting more, along with the depth and stat-supported framing of that eager necromantic magic. She couldn't simply leave it, and her mind let her watch in near helplessness as the spell completed between twelve achingly slow beats of her heart that echoed slowly like the dooming chime of a clock.
The prince sat up, a complex series of emotions displayed on his face. "What?" he asked.
The giant coatl uncoiled, and Harmony took a step back as it set the prince in a standing position. The pet's large dragon-like head stared its formerly-dead master in the eyes.
"Bowe, you look terrible. When was the last time you had a proper meal?" The prince chastised his pet.
"It wasn't dead. It wasn't delving dead." Harmony squeaked out.
There might have only been five other people in the room, but they were all entranced by the scene unfolding. Amid that distraction, the maid did what she felt most prudent. She turned on her heels, kicked off, and ran, but as quick as she moved and as far away as she got, she could still feel the hook of the connection between her and the prince.
Cool evening air hit her as she raced down the steps. [Style and Grace] kicking in to keep her from stumbling down on them.
Through [Familiar Bond], Hyacinth queried her at the distress, though it held a little amusement. Of course, he could sense the new bond inside his paired partner. A thin thread even linked him too.
"This isn't funny." She muttered, sending her desire for help through the bond.
Hyacinth returned an image. Clear directions to a dark alleyway nearby. Three twisty turns and the toad sat waiting for her.
Through the stats and the levels, the challenges and achievements, the bond with her familiar was at least growing, and Harmony was grateful. With this kind of a mess, she knew she'd need more than just his help.
"Can you take me to the manor?"
"Grrupt." The shadow toad answered.
It was a tone of agreement, but she could taste amusement, exasperation, and chastisement through their bond. Rather than arguing with him, she walked up, placed her hand on his head, and let him lead her into the shadows.
