In her private chambers, Aubrey sat on the floor cross-legged in front of her fireplace—its flames burning brightly against the darkness—as she contemplated everything that had transpired the night before.
Despite having taken her first step towards retribution, it did little to quell her frustration. She was plagued by unanswered questions about her true nature as an Unhallowed, the specifics of her murder, what led up to it, and why others wanted her dead. She wondered why she reincarnated as her previous self's counterpart. There had to be some connection between everything; she just didn't have enough information to piece it together.
She sighed heavily as she gazed deeply into the flames dancing merrily before her eyes. It almost reminded her of the fire burning in her soul every time she sang upon the stage and felt its rapturous energy surge through every fiber of her being. It consumed everything else around her except for the notes pouring out from deep within, making her forget about everything except the melody, the rhythm, and herself.
The flickering light also brought images to mind. Pictures from her previous life flickered into existence as the embers flickered within their hearth—yet they vanished as quickly as they came—elusive and intangible as shadows cast upon a wall. She tried desperately to hold onto them but could never grasp a hold of anything substantial except fleeting feelings of familiarity.
Most of the memories she did manage to recall involved music or performing, always surrounded by people who watched in awe at the spectacle she put on for them. This must have been her favorite part, expressing herself freely with all the world as her audience—giving voice to whatever emotions swept across her mind, allowing them to take control and direct her performance accordingly—and feeling alive as she lost herself amongst its chaos.
But something else lurked just beyond that sense of euphoria—something darker, something more primal——yet it remained elusive whenever she attempted to focus upon it, keeping itself hidden behind layers upon layers of veils. Whatever it might've represented remained a mystery to her still.
The System's prompt startled her, drawing her away from the thoughts she'd lost herself in.
[Your rank has increased from Moderato to Moderato to Allegretto]
[You have 2 unused Talent Points]
[You have 2 unused Ability Points]
[You can increase one of your attributes by one grade]
Might as well invest this stuff into improving myself. It'll make taking these assholes down that much easier.
This time though, it seemed like she could only increase one of her attributes instead of the usual two. Was her progression starting to slow down now? She'd just have to see if that remained the case in the future.
Alright then... if she could only boost one, it'd have to be her Tempo. Faster reaction times and skill executions could be the difference between living and dying—especially given how much her survival relied on getting the chance to use her skills.
[Name: Aubrey]
[Race: Revenant]
[Variant: Banshee]
[Rank: Allegretto]
[Attribute: Grade]
[Tempo: C] ⇧
[Dynamics: B]
[Timbre: D]
[Pitch: C]
[Harmony: E]
[Resonance: D]
[Cadence: D]
[Riff: D]
Aubrey reached out to touch the skills panel in the window—bringing up the list of her currently unlocked and available skills. Between all her Talent Trees, she had concentrated her expenditures on the Sonata Path and Fugue Journey. She liked the idea of a balanced approach in combat so Sonata Path was a no-brainer, and her penchant for sneaking around and causing chaos certainly aligned well with the Fugue Journey's methods.
Should she start branching out more into the other Talent Trees? There wasn't really a 'wrong' path to go down for choosing skill branches. Ultimately it all depended on personal preference or style, which could change over time. For now though, she wanted to continue focusing on these two Talent Trees for a bit more until she built a foundation to work with.
[Achieving the Allegretto rank allows you to choose from the list of Tier 3 skills. The other requirement is to have unlocked at least two Tier 2 skills of the respective Talent Tree.]
Perfect. Another incentive to specialize.
With that decided, Aubrey examined her two Talent Trees—skimming through them briefly before finding what she wanted:
[Mirage of the Elusive Motif (Fugue Journey, Tier 3, active skill): Generates three sophisticated decoys, increasing the confusion among enemies. These copies have a limited capacity to act independently and can deal minor damage to foes. Cold iron or silver weapons dispel the copies. Duration: 15 seconds; Cooldown: 40 seconds]
[Escape Through Inverted Realms (Fugue Journey, Tier 3, active skill): A skill that allows instant repositioning, flipping one’s position with that of a decoy or enemy, akin to an inversion in a fugue where the theme is mirrored. Duration: Instant; Range: 8 meters; Cooldown: 30 seconds]
Two fantastic skills and there was no hesitation as she made her choice.
She had been outnumbered many times already since her awakening, so having another way to turn the tide or get out of danger if necessary seemed like a wise decision. Escape Through Inverted Realms had a high potential to misdirect, allowing for easier counterattacks, so it got the green light from her.
Her gaze fell upon the panel which now contained the information of her two Ability Trees—Banshee's Lament and Banshee's Aria. Between the two, Banshee's Aria seemed better suited for long-term utility due to the sheer flexibility and diversity of the effects it granted.
But as she glanced over two abilities in the Banshee's Lament path, she just had to pick them.
[Echoes of Anguish (Banshee's Lament, Tier 3, active ability): Enemies that strike the Banshee with a melee weapon are afflicted with a curse that causes minor damage (necrotic) over time. The damage ticks every 2 seconds and stacks twice. Duration: 20 seconds; Cooldown: 45 seconds]
[Veil of Despair (Banshee's Lament, Tier 3, active ability): Enemies in close proximity (2 meters) to the Banshee have a constant, slow drain (necrotic) on their health every 6 seconds. Duration: 24 seconds; Cooldown: 60 seconds]
Aubrey grinned from ear to ear.
So far, she had specialized in dodging, evasion, and disorientation, but she didn't have many ways to actually harm her enemies without using Hellion's Cry. Now, she could just dance around and keep the aggro on her while they slowly shuffle off into the sunset. The perfect 'play' for her performance.
She let out a self-satisfied sigh as she closed the window before leaning back against the foot of the bed—staring up at the ceiling in thought while humming softly under her breath. Her gaze wandered idly about as memories drifted through her mind accompanied by bits and pieces of melodies.
A sudden chill ran through her body—as if someone had just stepped upon her grave—and a feeling of dread swept over her—though she couldn't understand why or where it came from. She looked around nervously—the room empty except for herself.
It probably wasn't worth worrying about it. Someone might have just been talking shit about her on the street or something. She took a deep breath to steady herself before pushing herself upright again.
Her first of four targets was now out of the picture, but there were still a lot of things to do following the aftermath. She wanted to make sure the Blackwell name did not emerge unscathed from all of this, which meant she had to keep enticing disgruntled workers into riots or strikes. That and finding more answers from that scheming bastard's connections would help lead her closer to the others—and Helena Voss was next.
Before that though, she wanted to celebrate her achievement with a rockin' concert.
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Unhallowed Harmony took the stage the next night—but instead of a basement dive or seedy back alley tavern, the stage stood at the front of a wide-open plaza on the southern edge of Gallows Row.
The plaza itself was surrounded on all sides by buildings with grim-faced stone facades, their windows shuttered and their doors boarded up against the outside world. The streets surrounding the square were cobblestone and slightly uneven, the kind of streets that made it difficult to navigate by carriage or foot, forcing people to trudge through the muck and mire instead of driving past in the comfort of their carriage.
A thick layer of fog clung to the cobblestone streets, lending a ghostly atmosphere to the whole scene. It drifted in thick patches from the alleys and streets nearby, curling around the buildings like fingers reaching out of the shadows.
Despite this, a sizable crowd had gathered to witness the concert. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the front row, with a few bold individuals pushing their way into the audience. Those who couldn't fit in the front had climbed onto nearby buildings or hung out of windows to get a better view, their arms outstretched and waving wildly to catch the attention of the band.
The air smelled faintly of stale beer and sweat, but beneath that was the unmistakable scent of a crowd anxious to lose themselves in a night of reckless abandon.
As Aubrey gazed out across the crowd, she couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their size. It was obvious that their popularity had increased greatly since the last time they performed. There was no longer any need to worry about shoving their music down people's throats. Instead, word-of-mouth and reputation seemed to be doing the job for them.
Despite their newfound popularity, the band retained its air of mystery and intrigue—each member still concealing their identity behind ornate masks and clothing except for Aubrey herself. In her case, her scandalous outfit seemed to help attract even more fans and supporters to her cause.
Her current ensemble consisted of black leather thigh boots—shiny and tight-fitting—with steel tips protruding from the toes, and dark pants held up by a wide belt made from polished black leather. The pants themselves were low-cut at the hips and form-fitting around her thighs but flared out near her calves before tapering at the ankles.
She wore a corset made of crimson velvet—adorned with intricate patterns of silver thread and ivory beads—that hugged her slim waist while accentuating her shapely curves. On top of that, she donned a jacket tailored from deep black suede over a silk blouse embroidered with crimson roses, showing off her cleavage. She left the top three buttons of her blouse open to draw the audience's eyes even more to her assets, allowing just enough peek-a-boo skin to arouse curiosity and lust without overstepping into blatant indecency.
Aubrey's signature wail pierced the night as the first chord struck out in a crescendo. The band launched into one of their trademark sets featuring fast-paced thrash-style riffs accompanied by fierce growling vocals and complex rhythms that thundered through the plaza.
The audience erupted with wild cheers, screaming and stomping in unison as they danced along to the music. This sort of savage, cathartic merriment was what she lived for. The screams of the crowd, the reverberations of her own voice against the air, and the connection that came from sharing something so primal and powerful with others filled her with a sense of belonging she could never find anywhere else.
This kind of raucous enjoyment of the musical arts could only occur when people gave themselves fully over to it—mind and body surrendering themselves to the experience without reservations or hesitation—and reveled in its euphoria as much as the musicians did themselves.
In this moment, she felt free and unburdened by everything else weighing on her—her struggles with her identity, her murder, the rage boiling in her core, the curiosities about her nature as an Unhallowed. It was a moment to get lost in the moment, and the only thing that mattered was creating beautiful chaos.
Between verses, she glanced back at her bandmates who kept time and provided rhythmic support to her vocal fury.
Cedric's drumming had a forceful, relentless energy to it—with every beat striking home perfectly on its mark, like the cracking of a whip or the boom of thunder rolling across a stormy sky. It carried the listener along in its current, driving them forward without pause.
Thaddeus's bass contributed a steady foundation on which the rest of the song could flourish—an ever-present throbbing beat underlying the rest of the melody, allowing the music to breathe without growing too chaotic or overwhelming. His skills gave a smooth, almost lulling feel to the piece.
Liza's violin brought an ethereal quality to their work. Its melody soared high above the din, weaving around and between the heavier sections with an elegance that seemed almost improvised at times. It floated along—flitting from one note to the next—before taking flight again a few seconds later.
Lastly, Aubrey's vocals and guitar took the reins and propelled everything forward, wrapping it all together in a thick wall of sound that filled every centimeter of the plaza—booming through the night air in a primal cacophony.
She let her voice cut loose, leading the band through different dynamics as she switched between low, guttural growls and piercing shrieks. All the while, she hopped and danced around the stage, letting her long black hair whip wildly around her shoulders as her head bobbed up and down—her crimson eyes gleaming fiercely beneath her dark bangs.
Between the intensity of her voice, the relentless hammering of the drums, and the driving force of the bass and violin—it almost seemed like the performance could tear the world apart at the seams. But, even still, the crowd continued screaming and shouting—jumping up and down to the beat of their own frenzied heartbeats.
To everyone gathered there—those who lived on Gallows Row, those who roamed through these streets at night to get a taste of something different, even those who watched from the windows or rooftops overhead—Unhallowed Harmony played for them alone.
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Aubrey and her band returned to the cathedral following the gig's conclusion—their equipment in tow—after having performed an encore to raucous applause, which had made the audience's enthusiasm seem even louder than before.
She promptly collapsed on one of the pews in a mixture of fatigue and satisfaction from how well things had gone, leaning her head back and sighing deeply while she let her mind wander through the fog of her thoughts. Her hair hung limply about her face, dampened with perspiration from all the exertion during tonight's concert.
"Splendid performance as always, everyone!" Thaddeus spoke with his usual bombastic tone. "I daresay tonight might have been our best yet."
Cedric began removing his heavy robe and unceremoniously tossed them in the corner of the room—an action he always did to free himself of the stifling layers—before responding. "Indeed, it was certainly the most crowded I've ever seen. Though, I must admit... I could have played my solos with a little more panache though."
"Nonsense, dear friend, your drumming has grown even more inspired these past few weeks," Thaddeus interjected, and Aubrey agreed with his sentiment. Cedric had indeed been progressing incredibly well in their gigs. She kept encouraging him to expand his horizons a little, push his musical prowess to even higher peaks, but so far, he'd stuck with simple yet solid rhythms for the band's sake.
Liza made her way over to the nearby bench, collapsing beside Aubrey and laying her head gently on her lap while she murmured something about being tired. Shadows swirled lazily around her, intermittently dispersing like wisps of black smoke before recombining with Liza's outline.
"Maybe... the crowd would have... died down a little... if you two... would stop... with your... after-concert banter..." Liza responded groggily from between deep breaths.
Thaddeus scoffed at her words. "Come now, our interactions with the audience only helps to grow their attachment to us even more! Let them bemoan the loss of our company! It makes them even more desperate for the next opportunity to see us perform!"
"But... we are Unhallowed. If... any of us... is to get discovered... we'd better not... raise any suspicions..." Liza reasoned, and Aubrey knew it would be hard to argue against her statement.
"Would people generally run away if they find out that we're Unhallowed?" Aubrey asked as she lazily brushed away loose strands of hair that fell in front of Liza's eyes. "I mean... I met a shopkeeper who didn't seem afraid of me after she sensed I was one."
Cedric kneeled next to the pew and leaned over to begin massaging the small of Aubrey's back—his large hands working wonders to release the knots that had built up throughout the night.
"Humans have always feared us. It is our nature, and theirs too," Cedric whispered in a gravelly tone. "Most respond with fear... and some, with anger and hate, or intrigue and curiosity. Some see us as abominations; others as powerful beings to worship. It matters not whether they believe us to be of good or evil. We will always inspire dread in them."
Thaddeus nodded his assent. "Verily, Cedric speaks the truth. Most encounters that humanity has ever had with the Unhallowed have been as prey to predator. For example, you and Liza require their essence to sustain yourselves—Liza more so than you. To them, we are all monsters they need to hide from and defend against."
"But you two don't need to feed on humans," Aubrey pointed out.
"Indeed not," Thaddeus acknowledged, "Not every Unhallowed requires the same sustenance. I cannot speak for Cedric, but my existence relies solely on my core's inherent vitality. Nonetheless, my existence as an automaton with a consciousness would be deemed an abomination."
Aubrey looked back at Cedric who stopped his massaging and simply held her gaze as his hand remained upon her. "Cedric?" she prodded.
The gargoyle let out a long sigh as if thinking of something in his past before he responded. "My existence is bound to my role as the protector of this church and you—the chosen of the Sovereign Incantatrix. If my task were to end, I would perish alongside my purpose."
"Hmm, so all this Unhallowed stuff seems really complicated. There doesn't seem to be any consensus on what exactly an Unhallowed should be," Aubrey mused out loud. "I'm guessing that something could either be born as one or turn into one, right?"
Thaddeus nodded sagely. "Yes, your thoughts reflect my own. Among us, only Cedric was born as such, whereas you, I, and Liza... well, we became so because of circumstances in our previous lives, some of which remain... murky."
Aubrey pondered these new revelations as she watched Liza slowly drift into slumber.
That was why Julian and the others had set out to murder her. She had become something 'other' than them. They feared that her transformation would eventually come to bite them in their own asses, so they took action to ensure that would never happen.
Well... despite their reasons, Aubrey would have her vengeance on all of them regardless.
After all... a life for a life... right?