Chapter fifty-eight

The crowd of roughly five hundred people was more than Harmony expected. Had they gathered all the city’s members? Still, it is much smaller than many of Ambrosia’s concerts. A stage with a podium was waiting built to the dimensions she’d requested. Plenty of room for her and Hyacinth. Bodyguards would be posted around it.

Madam Peatree took the podium first. “Today we have a special guest at the Grave Society. A Necromancer who has joined the aristocracy. One who will open the Ascendant Games in Hazeldown. She climbs Nae’s Garden alone in her bid to become greater. Please give her a warm welcome, Lady Harmony White!”

The applause that followed Harmony and her familiar as they replaced Peartree on the stage was pleasant. Now the eyes told a different story. Some were filled with awe, others jealousy, amusement, disinterest, curiosity, and other emotions. [Awareness] helped make it easier to recognize people’s array of subtle emotions. The clapping died down as she reached the podium.

“Power.” Harmony glazed the word with authority with a hint of death from her class. That was why they were here to see her and it was the root of those emotions when they looked upon her. Whether she gained it through luck or skill. With that word, the crowd's attention sharpened.

“I have it. You want it. That wasn’t always the case. This is my path. Daughter of a beggar, hard starts lead to having necromancer as your first choice.” No specific act among many needed to be listed. How close to death did all of them need to get for that choice? Have they also felt hot blood turn cold? Tasted decay to survive? Accepted they might not survive to that first choice of class and profession? “In Hazeldown whose streets act like veins to feed Old Bones, I weighed my options as you all must have. Necromancer. Maid. Service to the living and the dead intertwined into my being. There I made a decision to never be alone.”

“Power together.” Hyacinth’s deep croak shook the crowd. He'd enhanced it with the authority he carried for her, his flavor of deep shadows causing the afternoon light to darken briefly in his presence. And with that, Harmony could feel his pride for her. There was no doubt that she wouldn’t have survived without him.

“You have that with your community here, beside you are those who could help you achieve it.“ Or hamper it. That she didn’t say even as she saw that happen here. That was part of their choices. Who are your friends, and what compromises would you make?

“To grow that power I combined my maid and necromantic skills.” [Dust] and [Manipulate Dead] swirled together pulling the day's work from the crowd and creating a gray cloud that settled into a pile off to the side, leaving them all noticeably cleaner. A statement rebellious to the teachings of Thibodeaux she saw in the classroom here. “That work became the advantage I leaned on to earn a prestigious place on the staff of the generous Lady Coodly. And to become indispensable I leaned into that combination of class and profession. Hours in the dungeon, making death beautiful. Restoring and changing hair, shaping skin, polishing nails.”

Running her hands back through her hair, Harmony transformed hers into long golden curls similar to Ambrosias', brightening her lips to a blood red, splashing color to her cheeks. Then with a shake of her head, those gold curls turned into a bright blue to match her dress. “Even now, Honorable Lady Coodly seeks someone who can hone their skills to do the same, having contacted The Grave Society in the hope of finding another who can do the same. A path open to you all if you don’t want to be limited to only how important you’ve made yourselves assisting climbers of the Garden.“

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Some of the crowd reacted to this. Peartree’s face held a slight frown, but for every uncomfortable hint several more held looks of interest, contemplation, or excitement. A path other than decay.

“I can’t say that drew the eyes of Haz’el Ri to me. The Prince came after. As did Duke Darren’s sacrifice. Songs of my rise, as a muse to someone equally amazing.” It was hard to not turn a gaze towards Ambrosia as she watched from the side of the crowd. “What elevated me to a Lady? Forging luck through skill or fate aligning with who I am? A gift with a cost as many come with.

Now it has brought me here to you, a society dedicated to necromancers, while I climb Nae’s Garden my way. Where your support will help me as my experience may help you.” Now it was Peartree’s turn to smile. This is what she wanted. The ability to say The Grave Society at least helped. Politics and propaganda were the coin to pay for the cost of this exchange. That quote, if any, will find its way to newsheets.

“For I believe in death’s power. ” [Shadowed Graves] burst forth, shaped by [Style and Grace] touched by [Beautician] reaching for the thrill that comes when facing and embracing the end. The awe of finality. No random effect this time, the crowd would feel it and as the sky and ground turned dark, eyes widened and breaths were held. A few quivered and dropped to their knees at the mix of fear, desire, and appeasement. A brief moment they’ll recover from even as it lingered.

“See what I’ve accomplished. What we can accomplish.”

Hyacinth slipped into the shadows. His part to play was not done. A moment to leave and a moment to return. Rising out of the shadows, Harmony could feel the strain as he returned astride the severed head of the bastard of the fourth floor, the giant snake’s head drawing gasps from the crowd. A few stepped back, even Peartree stumbling a foot or two. It was the reason she’d asked for the stage to be so big.

That little book from the Grave Society talked about the bane of that guardian. Where they could find the furthest root of a tree lord and pump [Rot] in until it died. The snake had always been an issue. It hunted necromancers to the point where the text warned practitioners to only work that floor with a trusted and reliable team who needed their skills for the fifth floor. Fearsome because it killed, where others called it the bastard the book called it a bane.

Removing the head hadn’t been difficult. Transporting it, however, had been. Hyacinth, for all his help, had been exhausted, yet loved his oversized trophy despite the fact he’d done little to fell the beast, but her victories were as much his as hers. Such is a [Familiar Bond].

“Gheh. Gheh. Gheh.” The shadow toad chucked. A laugh that hadn’t been part of the planned speech.

“For you, an example of my power.” Authority and death coated the word one last time as she finished her presentation. Now she had had more than the Grave Society’s attention, she had many of their members' interest. Would it shake things up, or change how they do things? Only time will tell. As a dramatic exit, she slipped into the shadows with Hycinth back to the Inn, ending [Shadowed Graves] and leaving the snake head as a gift. Ambrosia and the bodyguards would have to make their way back as planned.