Maid with Necromancy

Chapter Four

That night Harmony slept fitfully in her bed, eventually giving up and settling in with Hyacinth in his bed of pillows. The skill gain had affected him as well, he ran off, surprising everyone the moment she fell, only to be found in his pile of pillows later. If only he didn't need to carry her burden. Evolve fast. That had to work.

The scent of a simple breakfast on a tray next to the cuddling pair woke her up. Ravenously she devoured it, as she’d been unable to eat the night before.

She’d need the energy too. Hemlock always set her on edge. If she hadn’t needed that new skill to help with her current issues she’d have visited the guild master yesterday. It all beat having the man surprise her yet again. Hopefully, Old Bones had put him through hell.

Her wardrobe for such a visit was lacking. Coodly Manor had shipped her old maid uniforms, not that anyone else could fit into them. One new dress, spring style, purchased with the expectation of Adric’s aunt, the countess, visiting. Then one of the dresses she'd bought from Lace and Ladies, the other had gotten eaten by her skill. Nervous as she was, Night already yearned to be covering her. If Hemlock sneezed she knew it would pop on with how sensitive she was, ruining whatever outfit she picked. The armor was becoming an unofficial uniform more out of necessity than desire.

[Beautician] assured her she looked good in the outfit. The subtle changes of [Stride Before the Fall] drew eyes to her with the new unusual nature making it hard for others to look away. Not that Harmony could make the skill shut up with its opinions these days. Putting the bloody armor on quieted everything well enough.

Gentler than last time she nudged Hyacinth awake. “I’m off to see Hemlock. You coming with?”

“Skill strange, strong and strange. Processing.” He croaked out, signaling through [Familiar Bond] that he was staying at the manor.

As much as she’d have loved his support, she understood. The dreams of using the skill, disappearing, and watching herself disappear echoed from the night. It wasn’t an illusion, that she was certain of, but what exactly that meant chewed on her emotions.

Harmony tapped into [Poise and Bearing] to mask her worries as she left her room.

“Lady White, the carriage is waiting,” Bates said with a bow, outside her doorway.

The head butler was worth a half dozen other staff. That realization had been surprising since while working at Coodly Manor she'd only seen the man in his office or at changeover. Her work in the trenches made that opinion more than idle praise. Why the man had shackled his fate to hers was a mystery, but one she was grateful for.

“Thank you, Bates.”

Ambrosia waited with Adric at the exit to the manor. The little worry on her friend's face betrayed that she hadn’t ever selected a social skill for her profession as a maid. The beast tamer had to have maxed out her profession like she had. Her curtsy was pure practiced performance, though.

The lack of informality from Harmony’s best friend grated when they were private like this, but they’d successfully argued that she needed to get used to this, and everyone still had professions to advance.

“My lady,” Adric said as his good morning.

“Are you ready to deal with Hemlock?“ Harmony asked.

“I’ve dealt with bureaucrats all my life. I’m sure I can assist you in this.”

Her pet’s lazy smile that verged on a smirk did not inspire confidence. The guild master had refused to see him before he died even when he had the connections his position as a prince brought him. She’d considered taking Ambrosia who would be more reliable but only guild members were allowed deeper access to the guild.

Together they stepped outside.

Prince Adric’s pet was missing. “Is Bowe not going?”

The rainbow coatl made a strong statement.

“The guild has heavy restrictions on pets, especially large ones. Several incidents of malicious defecation, and it’s easier to institute a restriction than repeal one. It’s an interesting story”

Harmony held up her hand, stopping him from continuing. She didn’t want to know. Maintaining composure was hard enough. The pair got into the waiting carriage for the trip to the city and the adventures guild.

The necromancer’s sense of the dungeon grew the closer they got to the city, familiar bits of death Old Bones and his domain permeated the land in a way that Harmony hadn’t been as aware of as she had while living in Hazeldown. No wonder most people only visited the place briefly or never returned after they left. Walking on the graves of millions with their eyes upon you.

The carriage rolled to a stop. Prince Adric tried to give her a comforting smile. The lady maid took more comfort in that this should be a one-time task, no different than a particularly dirty chore like cleaning lord Tyler’s room after a long depressive fit.

They stepped out to a murmuring crowd.

“Lady White, how does it feel to meet your destiny!?”

Of course, the muckrakers would be here. They probably camped out the moment they heard guild master Hemlock was back. The reporters for the sheets had never given up chasing her for the chance of an official statement. Ambrosia’s birds patrolled the sky over her new home and caught them regularly since they’d figured out where she lived.

“Is it true you raised the prince to be your lover?”

She wanted to kick the lot of them. Instead, Adric used his body to create space for her as she entered the guild. That organization wouldn’t allow such harassment inside their building. The wealth that greeted her was impressive. Statues of heroes lined the entryway, golden weapons in their hands. Each had a plaque of their deeds. Not surprising considering the room of thrones they had at the colosseum. The entryway opened into a wider room separated by a wall of booths managing the adventurers checking in with signs labeling them, Quests, Help, Appeals, Membership. The Membership line was short. Three people waited, and as she and Adric approached they drew attention. The three ahead of them shuffled off to the side allowing her to cut ahead, even bowing.

Such subservience tickled Harmony's authority, and as much as she wanted to protest it, it was important to get this done as quickly as possible. “Gratitude.” She told them.

The lady manning the booth looked unphased by all of this with a skill-enforced smile on her face. “How may I help you?”

“My name is Harmony White, I’m here to see guild master Hemlock.”

The staff member opened a book and started flipping through it slowly as though she didn’t know who was before her. “It doesn’t appear that you are a member. The guild master will only consider seeing sworn members of the guild.”

The gift, a lifetime membership with the guild, he planned to force her hand. The joke is on him, she needed it anyway. Free access to any dungeon. That was the most basic benefit of membership, and if she wanted to level up and evolve quick enough, she needed it all. First Old Bone’s skill stone and now this. Every poison pill they give her she’d swallow, Hyacinth's distress echoed through her [Familiar Bond].

“I believe a membership waiting for me to accept, a lifetime one. I’ll take that and you will tell Hemlock that I’m here to see him.”

The girl pulled out another book and slowly thumbed through the pages like this wasn’t the only one the guild master had offered in the years he’d been here.

[High Kick] showed Harmony exactly what she needed to do to kick that book out of the worker’s hands. It ached to do that. She activated [Poise and Bearing] to combat it.

“There you are. Yes, Harmony White, Necromancer, It appears we do have a membership waiting for you. From her desk she pulled out a sheet of paper, no vellum, Harmony could sense that it was treated skin rather than made of dead wood with her necromancy. A complex pattern of lines of a spell ward etched into it.

The whole thing set her connections stat tingling with the hairs on the back of her neck rising. “I thought you only had to take my name for the records.”

“Lifetime memberships are different. They are irrevocable. That way no snooty guild master can have it stripped and you kicked out. That’s one reason why they’re so sought after. Because of that, it requires a different process. We’ll need to cut your palm for a little blood and then for you to press your hand on the center of the contract.”

They were making this difficult even after she committed to accepting the membership. The spiraling magic pattern on the vellum already looked like strands of rope to be tangled up in. All a glance at the experienced prince got her was the daft eagerness of someone who only saw the prize and not the trap. But she didn’t bring him for his brains.

“Of course,” Harmony answered.

The palm might be an issue. The paired gloves were part of the armor, Night, linking it to her skill [Small Armor] for storage and retrieval. They’d changed since she donned them. The metal on the back of the hands was now almost white and the fingerless gloves were now covered in the shiny, black material that had bonded to everything when her unique dress got involved. Sure, she could store the whole thing away and perform the ritual nude, but she’d rather avoid that.

The necromancer focused on the connection of the armor to the space inside where she stored it. Just one glove… she used her unlocked stat to bend the rules to peel that one piece of armor away. If it took it all away she would be naked. Plenty of motivation there to make this work. Pop. Spiritually it felt like she dislocated a wrist but the right hand glove disappeared inside of her.

Harmony reached out with her palm up. The woman wiggled her fingers and a small knife appeared in her hand and she quickly cut a small gash in the necromancer’s palm. [Mend] itched to seal it up quickly. While the maid skill was aimed more toward clothing, pottery, household goods, and maybe a scrape, her necromancer side was more than familiar with bodies and bones. That specific skill often crossed over with healers and crafters who held it under the same name, giving her that healing edge she could bring to a team, where she could push its boundaries with synergies. She had to have it when it showed up.

Rather than use it now she kept the skill ready, just in case. She wasn’t asked to donate mana for the spell but also held that ready. Not unusual since not all people who performed this have probably unlocked a mana skill.

Letting thoughts distract her rather than act, she cursed at herself, activated [Mana Rotation], and slammed her palm down on the symbol. The paper started to glow, and Harmony watched, listened, and felt for any intrusions, feeling the connections of the magic, as her mana skill granted her an increased perception of magic.

While the tutors they’d hired had been less than useless at skill training, pushing Thibodeaux’s repetitive bullshit, she had managed to gain more knowledge on ward work and other uses for mana and magic. Her stats of connections and synergy seemed to make it easier, not that she had much time working on wards with the need to focus on raising her skills to relieve the pressure authority had put on her.

Mana was soaked into the vellum, her necromantic senses could feel the faint hint of death released with it. Either a high-level dungeon reward or a powerful animal went into making it. The spellwork and mana interacted with her blood, but she couldn’t see how. Irritation bristled in her, she hadn’t the experience or training needed. The mana in the spell was difficult to see, as most of her experience was with her mana. She hadn’t been instructed not to use her own. Insert just a little bit, and then she hoped to use that to figure out exactly what this contract was.

She pushed gently. It resisted like oil and water, stopping the intrusion. But she could cheat. Flexing her stats, connections played fast and loose with similarities, mana is mana, then synergizing [Mana Rotation] and [High Kick] she booted her mana into the spell.

"Bloody bone me." Chronostasis kicked in and the world seemed to freeze. But not the spell. It made the rush of [Mana Rotation] seem slow. The pathways weren't smooth, twisted spellwork was along the insides of the lines, hidden and invisible.

The technical skill to understand the specifics of the casting was beyond her. But now that she had her mana in it she could grasp the concept of what it was trying to do. Her mana was so knotted into it, that pain or worse would be the consequences of pulling out now. Authority? Bound to be a symbol for the guild?

No, the spell wasn’t meant to bind; blood, will, and a mana donation were needed for that. What should have been a magical identification print, unique to her, so that others couldn't’ pretend to be her, was turning into something else. She'd screwed up. It was made to take the unique concept of Harmony White and encode it with her blood for the guild. Now that it had her mana and will, the magical working wanted a piece of her.

She wasn’t going to let it. Vellum was easier to change than paper with [Manipulate Dead]. Whatever the fine details of the spell were, she was vandalizing it, like splashing paint on a masterpiece. She just had to make sure the backlash went into it rather than her. New fractures, and new shapes spiraling outward she pushed hard to change the grooves, but it bounced back. She could feel the path jump off the paper and into her hand sending new lines into her flesh, the path of least resistance when competing against whatever the powerful creature the Vellum had been harvested from. She’d have closed the cut with [Mend], except it was going around her hand. [Manipulate Dead] turned on her, carving the dead layer of skin at the surface.

That changed the spell, but it wasn’t enough. Gut instinct told her that, and all her skills wanted to help. The spirals of [Mana Rotation], [Beautician] for accurate elegance, [Stride Before the Fall] to dig deeper. Split off again, no, split into it. Maybe the masterpiece wasn’t ruined, but she’d draw a wicked mustache on the portrait's smug face. The feeling had to be right, so she pushed with everything. It hurt like a thousand needles sinking into her skin.

Click. [Stride Before the Fall] was satisfied, but what part of her did that represent? At least it wasn’t the detachment of [Cold Touch] or the anger of [High Kick]. The spell no longer felt like it was going to take a piece of her liver, and instead, they shared something she couldn’t place.

The Vellum winked out of existence under her palm. Everything spun back up to normal, except her hand still hurt. On top of her hand was a tattoo of twisted dark gray lines. Using [Recall] she could see that it was similar to what had been on the paper, but off somewhat. Another problem for later, the Harmony pulled her paired glove back on, covering it up, hopefully, quick enough that no one had noticed.

“Where did it go?” Harmony asked in a pleasantly innocent voice that hid her anxiety. Experience from the uncomfortable and barely there uniforms she suffered to work in for years had made this deception easy to do even without a skill.

If the staff member suspected anything, she didn’t show it. It’s not like they performed lifetime guild memberships regularly, if ever, in Hazeldown.

“It joins part of the head offices' grand working, connecting every guild house, from the smallest to largest dungeons, wherever we are active. Which is everywhere. You’ll never have to worry about dungeon fees again.”

“Sounds perfect.” It didn’t. Harmony resisted the urge to scratch over her glove where the new tattoo was. “Can you see if guild master Hemlock will see me now?” The sooner this was over the better.