Necromancy In D Minor ✔️

Black Wing Ode

"Oh wise gods, grant me sight beyond sight.

So that I may gaze into the world and see all its wonders.

The barest drop of dew as it lights on the young leaves of springtime.

The first snowflake as it flutters from the winter sky.

The blossom as it bursts open to—"

A roar shook the Cathedral, rattling the windows and reverberating through the floor. To everyone else it probably sounded as though the netherborne was right on top of them. But Octavia knew exactly where it was. She swallowed. It was a big one.

Reciting poetry wasn't doing anyone any good. Fear had long captured the ballroom in its choking grip and that roar made the stranglehold tighter.

Children sat huddled together with their parents, in the corners where the chairs were set up. They flinched every time another crash sounded from inside the village. Lady Beatrix paced the floor, with a long sword in her hands, stopping every so often to gaze at the ballroom's exit, oblivious to her wife, who was leering at her from across the room. Several priests walked the room and gazed skyward every so often, as though asking for divine intervention.

There were no gods watching over Hedalda, and even if there were, they didn't care enough to interfere. They had better things to do than dabble in the squabbles of the living and undead.

Octavia sagged in her chair and flicked her gaze to Claud, who leaned against a pillar nearby. With one ankle crossed over the other and wine in hand, he was the most relaxed in the room. Occasionally, he gazed in her direction, eyes asking her questions she had no answers for.

Footfalls echoed through the ballroom as a lone priest ran onto the upper circle. "Pilar, a message from the bell tower. They're going to need reinforcements out there."

Pilar pointed to the exit. "Take your team and go, Ezra. The rest of us will stay here."

Ezra swore out loud. "But if that thing—"

"I gave you an order!" she snapped. "Now go!"

He only gave a nod before heading out with five priests in tow.

Octavia wound the ribbon on her bell around her fingers. What can I do? She bit her lip. If she tried to join the fight now, everyone would learn her secret. She'd heard of necromancers being bludgeoned to death, beheaded, burnt alive, tied to rocks and thrown into the ocean amongst other things. But she was different. If it came to that, she could run. Or fly, rather.

Sicero had given Pilar orders to break legs if anyone tried to leave, and Octavia had every confidence that the elder woman would follow said orders to the letter. She gazed at the windows lining the upper circle—a way out, if she flew.

A few polite taps landed on her shoulder and she swiveled her head to see Tallis standing in front of her, head down and hands fisted at his sides. The daywalkers stood a hand-in-hand a few paces behind.

"Miss Octavia can I sit with you, please?" he asked.

"Of course." She slid over to give him enough room to sit comfortably between her and the armrest. And he did so quietly, keeping his head down and clasping his hands tightly together in his lap.

"It's going to be all right Tallis." She placed a hand on his shoulder.

He sniffled and his shoulders shook. "I just... I don't want anyone to die."

"Sicero and the other Priests are doing everything they can to protect everyone. Let's have faith in them."

"But who's going to protect them? Who's going to protect Lord Sicero?"