Necromancy In D Minor ✔️

Luminous Legato

Octavia frowned at the empty desk next to Lyra and twisted her necklace. Arietta had missed school for seven days in a row—the longest Octavia had gone without seeing her. Worry gnawed away at her with each passing day she met the desk empty.

The children didn't seem bothered at all by their friend's absence, which led Octavia to believe that she was overreacting. Even so, the night before she'd consolidated the notes and songs from all the lessons the girl had missed and resolved to check on her after class.

"Miss Octavia, what do all these curvy lines mean?" Coralee asked. She and the other children were gathered around Lyra's desk, poring over a thick tome of music Octavia had brought from home. It was filled with hundreds of songs written by necromancers from every corner of the world.

"Where'd you see that?" Kensi scrunched her brow, eyes darting over the page.

Coralee pointed near the center of the passage. "Right here."

Octavia rose from the desk with flute in hand. She didn't have to see what they were talking about to know what the meant. "Those are slurs. They indicate that a phrase should be played legato."

"What's legato?" Tallis asked.

"Legato means that it should be played smoothly. All the notes should flow into each other with no breaks or pauses." The children parted for her as she approached the desk. "Like so." She raised her flute and played the passage marked for legato.

The class marveled as the silky melody filled the room. She should play for them more, she realized. The songs they were looking at were far too advanced, but budding musicians needed something to aspire to, and reminders of what they could accomplish with patience and practice. Inspiration was an integral part of any art, musical or otherwise.

When the last note of the passage rang out, the children clapped for her, and she gave a little bow. "We should start to tidy up, it's almost time for—"

As if on cue, the chime of the third bell interrupted her. The usual cacophony followed, scraping chairs, packing away of flutes.

Octavia followed suit, taking her heavy tome back to the front desk. She'd borrowed a page out of Winslet's book and began toting her things in a large messenger bag. On one side went the tome, alongside pages of notes and lesson plans, on the other was her flute case and her favourite poetry book. As she took apart her flute, a knock came on the class door. It swung open before she could answer, and Sicero stood on the other side, regaled in his white and gold finery.

"Good afternoon," he said with a small smile.

Octavia closed the latches on her flute case with slow deliberate movements, and tucked it away in her bag. If this was a another summons from the Council to berate her over something trivial, then she wasn't having it. On the other hand, this could be her chance to explore the Council Hall, search for the nightwalker. But was it worth her peace of mind?

"Miss Octavia?" Sicero still stood by the door, brows tight, and she realized her expression wasn't the most welcoming.

"Apologies, I just wasn't expecting you. Are you here for Tallis?"

"No, actually, I'm here for you. Beatrix has asked to speak with you. It's nothing troublesome, I assure you," he added when she scowled.

Octavia didn't budge. "And why did you come to get me? Why didn't she send Lyle?"

"I..." He coughed into his fist. "I had something to discuss with Pilar and would've had to come here either way."

"I see. I'll get my things." She ducked back into the classroom and shouldered her bag. "Class, I'll see you all tomorrow. Be good for Miss Pilar."