“Necromancy, my dear, is not creation out of nothing. Everything you do is neutral, your ledger will be balanced, you might have already distilled the core tenet?”

  I tried to open my mouth and talk. Raspy air flowed out, and my throat felt scratchy and dry. I forced more air out, and my body started to buckle. Levan held me back, and pulled out a small bottle of water. He moved it to a rag, dampening it, and then softly pressed it over my cracking lips.

  “To Give is to Take. To Take is to Give,” he slowly said, and wrung the rag atop of my tongue. The water was cold and damp.

  “Wine, and Opium for that matter, are depressants. They bond with your Vitality in a way and drain it out, lowering how your brain functions. While I am not normally against a bit of relief, in your general state, I would recommend not drinking or indulging,” Levan continued, standing up and walking towards the door.

  “I apologize, Lady Hart. This is a grand delusion you have going on, and our Dear Mother made a great facsimile, but you must realize this is fake. Ophelia is a vampire, not a nursemaid, Madeleine and Noel are not your parents, and… well, I imagine Jasmine is your sister now. Adrian, however, will never be your husband. You had that opportunity and you threw it away,” he said, his hands holding on the knob to the door.

  The world around me was crumbling, the crisp logs Adrian had used to repair our house chipping away into black smoke. The mirror still had its curtain drawn, but the window frame clattered.

  I tried to sit up properly, but couldn’t summon the strength. I lifted myself onto my left arm, which buckled.

  Levan didn’t turn around, but opened the door. That unending darkness slipped in, and he stepped out.

  “Boy, come here,” he called. I tried to peer into the blackness, but I saw nothing.

  Levan returned holding a green sphere, rotating against his palm. The anima swirled against his fingers, as the old man returned to my side. “This will restore you to partial health for your body to begin its work. I can not restore you fully here, and besides, that would not address the psychosomatic components you have. You studied my journal, yes?”

  I again tried to open my mouth, but my damp lips and cracking throat let out a hoarse whisper. I tried to cough, but my lungs didn’t have the strength. Levan stroked my head, and released the anima into my body.

  The sensation was warm, and I gasped for air. My throat’s cracking slowly eased up, and the weak feeling I had over my body was fading. I pushed my arm down against the bed to lift myself up, and… actually managed it.

  “Even this, Lady Hart, is not healing. I claimed the life of a worker outside to redistribute their life force to someone who needed it. I did not blink in the exchange – one life for another. Do you understand?” Levan said, releasing my head and then offering me his hand.

  “Yes… Sir?” I hesitantly stated, taking his hand and rising to my feet. I looked down, and… what was I even wearing?

  “No need for formalities, Lady Hart. I may be your senior in both ways, unfortunately, but we are all Her children here. You may refer to me as Levan, Dr. Anise, or ‘Lich’ if you prefer. I would vastly prefer Levan.”

  “I will, Levan. Would you call me Ashley?” I slowly asked, still looking down at my form. It wasn’t so much I was nude, but there was… blackness over my body. Levan was wearing a white robe. I had seen the doctors in the capital robe, but I wasn’t wearing a robe. There was just an abyss.

  Levan followed my eyes to my body as well and nodded. “Choose something you’d wish to wear, Ashley. You are at the Necropolis door.”

  I looked around to find a closet, but my room had become nothing but black. Levan and I stood atop of a darkness, and that’s all that there was. Darkness, Blackness… and a clacking window and an open door that led into a void-black darkness. I couldn’t even figure out how I could see with no light.

  But I closed my eyes, and thought of my most favourite clothing.

  I was back in my leather overalls and white workers shirt. My sunhat rested against my red hair, and my handkerchief was tied around my neck. My workboots were neatly laced, and my overall’s had my pruners and spade. I instinctively rolled up my sleeves, and still saw the disfigured flesh.

  I raised them up to my eyes to inspect, but Levan shook his head. “How long did you think you spent scraping at your skin?”

  “15 minutes every few hours?” I responded.

  “And with what?”

  “Lye?”

  “I’ll begin with this, Ashley. Even if that were true, you had been burning your skin off every day for what you assumed was at least 15 minutes. You opened wounds and allowed rot to enter your blood. Sure, it’s naturally darkening into heavy crimson now, but if it becomes black - it is rot.” Levan frowned, and then gestured to the door.

  “What you actually did was spend a few hours every day scraping at your flesh, did not eat anything, and barely drank water. A normal person would have died after the third day. Your connection with the Mother in your blood - your [Blighted Blood] and [Ice Maven] - prevented you from feeling the exhaustion that came from your efforts. Likewise, your farm is a [Blight]. As you slowly killed yourself, you’ve been draining the life from the forests to live.”

  “...And then I went to Noel’s house.” I realized.

  “..Yes. You went to Noel’s house. Where you hid your condition, and then drank a depressant and refused to eat food. The only reason you’re not dead is because up above, Noel and Jasmine have realized you crashed out, and are attempting to heal you. However, per your contract with Rhyvesta…”

  “...I must Take.” I concluded.

  “Correct. But since your soul is bound for here, I have given you the life of a skeleton. When you return above, you will need to drain someone living to come back properly. And then, take care of yourself. You do not get the magical healing that other worshippers would. It is anathema to our kind.” Levan smiled warmly. “Doctor’s orders. Now come, I want to show you around and talk with you. I have told our mother, again, that she did frighten her daughter so it would be wiser for one of Rhyvesta’s sons to escort you.”

  I squeezed my hand against his fingers, as he began to lead me outside.

  The blackness reshifted into a world of gray and color. The bricks and stones were this odd gray-blue that extended up in cyclopean heights. But there was still life; green grass and dark roads with flowers of many colors. The dirt looked fertile, and legions of skeletons tended to the garden. Right beside the door was a collapsed one, which Levan neatly stepped over and helped me get across.

  In front of us were the Gates of the Dead, bordering the Entrance of Torment to Torrent - it’s deepest depths, and the imprisonment of the ‘worst offenders’. Even as a child, I was curious what ‘The Enemy’ would do with her worshippers - child killers and worse went to Torment, but the worshippers of the enemy?

  They were allowed to pass through the Gates.

  Immediately, I looked up, trying to find the cavernous maw of the pit. There was a moon, and stars twinkled down. The moon’s light glowed as I looked at it, and Levan patted my back.

  “That is our Dear Mother in her truest form, like how Amaril is the Sun. She is watching us - watching you - Sweetest Daughter. But, she will not be conversing with us this time. If you wish, I could ask her to turn her Gaze away.”

  I stared at the moon and the craters inside. My eyes flashed to a small hut on the river, and my body began to shake. Phantasmal voices rang through my head – You’re one of them. My fingers and arms trembled, but Levan immediately stepped in front of me.

  “Close your eyes. Take a deep breath, and when you’re ready, open your eyes. I want you to tell me five things you can see, four things you can hear, three things you can smell, and two things you can feel.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I greedily sucked in the abyssal air, but it felt oddly clean and pure. My body was twitching and trembling, and my heart was racing. Blood was dripping on my arms, but I forced my eyes open.

  “I see… a stone gate with massive carvings. It’s so pretty. I see skeletons working in the gardens. I can see Ashpodels growing. I… don’t see the moon.” I realized, and Levan turned to look up. He didn’t say anything, but rubbed my head. “Keep going.”

  “I… hear the wind, the rattling of bones, my own heart racing, and the sounds of dirt being dug. The dirt smells wonderfully fertile, the air is clean… and I can feel the air around me.”

  I looked around again. I was… mostly back.

  “Psychosomatic, Ashley. Mother was wrong to send you on a [Harvester] tasking. I know why she did, but it wasn’t what was best for you. Before we pass through into the gates, you must know: All the Gods are Fallible, even our Mother. They may be beyond us in understanding, but they measure things in ways that will fail. Rhyvesta’s tenets will put anyone but true deviants at odds with the world.”

  “...Am I going to become a monster, Levan?” I slowly asked.

  “No. Think of Rhyvesta - Amaril - and the rest as Ideals that humans can reach towards. But to fully represent it is monstrous. The cycle must be balanced - and that includes the Cycle. But we’ll discuss that soon. Just know this: I firmly believe Mother was wrong. Mother believes she was wrong. You, however, are suffering the consequences.” He took a deep breath. “And for that, we are truly sorry.”

  “So, Mother isn’t mad at me? Then… why am I here?”

  Levan patted my shoulder once again. “She is not. Her request of you was too advanced. However, you nearly killed yourself. The fault is at your own feet there. I will not offer you comforting words. You are a [Necromancer] - and above that, you are a [Doctor]. You made an oath to me - and for that I am touched - but you know that it is your actions and your hands that did it. Are you able to accept the responsibility?”

  I looked at my burnt and damaged arms again. “...Yes. But can I fix this?”

  Levan smiled. “Everything is fixable, my dear. I’ll teach you how to make some ointments with Aloe Vera before you leave. It will take a while. Unless you want to indulge and fix it imme–”

  “I don’t need to kill someone to fix some bruises, Dr. Anise.”

  “Good answer, Dr. Hart. Just because you have power, doesn’t mean it should be your first response. Necromancy is a tool in your pouch - but you should use your shears, pruners, or spade before you resort to it.”

  Levan walked towards the Gate and waved his hands. The cyclopean walls rumbled, with dirt and debris spilling. Etched on the stone was the moon, with hundreds of hands below reaching out to grasp it. It split in the middle, as the gates opened outwards to greet us. I stared upwards and the stone walls eclipsed the horizon. Even opened, the thickness of the gate made me think it was carved out of a mountain.

  Levan stepped forward and I quickly followed beyond, entering…

  In front of us was the city square, made of the same off-color gray-blue bricks accented with green grout. It radiated this grim, earthly sensation out, and even the central fountain was made of this stone. Yet, it was water flowing, not blood. Sure, massive skeletons that had quality that exceeded my own stood guard - they were a breed called a [Wight] - but the general sensation of the place seemed much like any other city. There was a tavern to the left and a general store to the right, and vampires, revenants, and other high end creatures perused.

  Yet, each of them gave Levan and I a wide berth, some even bowing their heads in reverence to him - to me?

  “District of the Dead. As a [Necromancer], you will have access to all five districts of Torrent. This one is the reception for the [Night-Thing] caste. They are allowed here, and may wander to their master or mistress’ district if they have permission. Remember, Ophelia will explicitly need your permission here.”

  I just nodded, my eyes still taking in all the sights. The cobblestone path was meticiously cleaned, and skeletal rats skittered about the alleyways. My eyes traced the infrastructure, and I could feel my body freeze up. There was so many faces, so many different things. Oakheart was big, Flowers-By-The-River was massive… but here?

  I was so small, and there were so many eyes.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  I continued to look around, until my eyes caught the sight of the tower. I stopped moving, just looking up at it.

  In the distance was a massive spiraling tower that hovered off the ground. The very apex was centered with the moon. The conical top illuminated around it, and projected the visage of an Ashpodel into the air. The stonework itself was intricately carved, with barred windows. It demanded attention.

  I instinctively grabbed Levan’s arms, my body locking up. He looked at me, then around. “Close your eyes, my dear. Breathe in, and ground yourself. There will always be people, and if you are to become what I see in you, you will have to learn to deal with them.”

  I tried to nod, but still, couldn’t. Levan clicked his tongue, and my heart sank. Yet, he offered me a small smile. “Baby steps, Ashley. I will push you into a [Necromancer] of legend, but only tasks you can handle. Now, breathe. None of the dead here can harm or touch you without your permission or Rhyvesta’s. But I can tell you are overwhelmed. Come with me.”

  I held onto his arm as he walked, stumbling over my feet with the sudden speed. We moved through the District of the Dead, between different alleyways. I wanted to take in the sights, but there were too many people, too many things. A lumbering [Abomination] crossed our path, and its massive feet made me jump and the earth shook with every step. A creature wearing a trenchcoat passed by us, and when I looked at its feet, the tails of thousands of rats squirmed about, trying to disappear and hide.

  We stopped at a bridge, and he turned to face me. “Torrent has five districts. The District of the Dead is for everyone. Eastward is the Arbiter’s Enclave - where the [Vampyre] caste and their servants are allowed. Westward is the Harvester’s Block - where a [Reaper] caste and their kin find shelter. Northwards, towards the Moonlit Tower, is Torrent Major, where only the [Necromancer] may roam. However, as a [Necromancer], you are allowed in all of the districts; which is not true for a [Vampyre] or [Reaper].”

  “That’s only four places…?” I whispered, still holding onto his sleeve for dear life. The bridge was made of stone, but in the center was this… thing made of flesh and bone. It had three heads - one in the center of its chest - and five arms, each holding a cleaver or meat hook. It stood on small, wobbly legs, and each of its heads drooled stupidly.

  “I apologize. The fifth District is the Moonlit Tower. I often forget about it since the amount of people allowed there is… Four, exactly. Only a [Lich] or their kin may enter the tower. Not a [Blood Witch], not a [Slasher], only a [Lich] or the like. That is Rhyvesta’s abode, and if you wish to become like me, you will enter that tower too and make communion with our Goddess and her true face.”

  “That… tendril thing with an eye?”

  Levan’s eyes narrowed. “She wouldn’t.” His eyes scanned mine. “She must be very, very desperate. I will talk with her on your behalf. You need a mentor, and… I am sorry that happened. You aren’t ready for that yet.”

  “She mostly takes the visage of Ma now…” I offered, and he shook his head.

  “She often does. Mother is loving, truly, but you must remember, Ashley – she is not human. She is something different than us, and it is like a child holding an ant. Her attempts at conversation are best understood as an advanced creature speaking to primitives.”

  “You don’t seem to speak so reverently about her?” I questioned, but he waved me off.

  “Soon, Ashley. I’ll explain that in a while.”

  We crossed the bridge; that disgusting [Abomination] moving aside. We went northwards, and whereas the houses there were small and compact, here? Everything was a mansion.

  But saying everything was a misnomer. There was lots of open space, and only nine of these abodes – all different in size, shape, and style – were splattered around. A 10th place was cordoned off, and the ground was flattened.

  “Mother is preparing the grounds for your abode when you can tolerate the journey here. But for now, we will enter mine.”

  Levan walked us into the first mansion, and opened it inwards. Ghosts and Skeletons dressed in fineries moved about, keeping the place clean. The central hall was massive, and it made Hawthorne Manor look like a lesser noble’s place in comparison. Levan didn’t stop though, climbing up the central staircase, past the hanging glass chandelier, and entered his study.

  I followed behind.

  Levan’s Study looked like a doctor’s office. On the walls were diagrams and charts of different races, with one half with their skin, and the other half opened up to show their internal parts. Humans and elves had twelve rib bones, but a goblin had 8. An orc had 16.

  And his bookshelf had MANY books. An entire wall filled with ancient collections. I wandered over, peering at the spines.

  “Ashley, sit down. You only have a few moments left before you wake in the living world, and I must explain a lot. Your other friends may enable you, but I will be mentoring you.” Levan barked, and I immediately stood up straight.

  The way he talked and moved made me feel like I was in the academy. I sheepishly stopped staring, and walked over to the chair in front of his table. He poured himself amber liquid, looked at me, and poured me a glass of water.

  I took it in my hands.

  “Drink it,” he ordered, and I immediately did so. It was… just water. He refilled the glass, and I slowly began to sip.

  “I don’t have enough time to gather my thoughts, so I’ll explain quickly before you wake up. Rhyvesta, Azadin, and Mineta are the only Gods that accept scientists and scholars as their Cleric-equivalent. You probably have heard that Azadin’s court is filled with Lawyers, and Mineta has the Thaumacracy?”

  “No, sir, I haven’t.” I immediately responded, and cringed inside.

  “My dear, Levan is fine. You are also a Doctor, so if you wish to keep our relationship professional, Dr. Anise will suffice,” he casually corrected me, and kept moving. “A [Necromancer] is Rhyvesta’s cleric, and most often, they are a Doctor, a Nurse… or even a Farmer. They are meant to maintain the cycle of life and death. But to understand this, let me quickly explain the hierarchy."

  He stood up, and moved behind him to draw the curtains. From here, we could oversee the city, and the three districts below. The Moonlit tower was above, so it wasn’t in sight.

  He pointed to the center. “Necromancy means divination of the dead - or the ability to commune with them. That is the crux of your power, and mine. The dead serve and obey us. We, as a [Necromancer], are meant to represent that balance, and our portfolio is the entire realm of the dead.”

  “Big portfolio,” I responded.

  “It is. As a Doctor, I managed many patients. As a Farmer, you managed the fields. The fields are yours to command. To help you, there are two other servants of our Dead Mother. I’ll begin with a [Reaper], and explain Rhyvesta’s mistake.”

  He moved over to the side to show the Harvester’s Block. The area was industrious, but it had reminded me of Laura’s farm - at least where the butchery happened. “A [Reaper] is Rhyvesta’s Harvester. They are meant to cull wild growth - Cancer - and dead growth - Necrosis. I believe you call it ‘slugs and weeds’, but the principle is the same. Too much, and too little.”

  “I… see. So, why was I tasked with it?”

  He shook his head. “All of us maintain the cycle in different ways. I recall you have learned the arts of being a [Harvester] - which is a [Reaper] minor. Rhyvesta had wanted you to go through the deep end… in a way that doesn’t work. I will return to this. But for now, a [Reaper] is tasked with culling. They kill mortals, both sinners and saints alike. This is their role, not yours.”

  I looked into the Harvester’s Block, and tried to focus in. Most of the people walking there were just [Night-Thing], but every so often, I’d see a bulky looking man or a spry woman wearing a mask. My heart stopped.

  “Is… that…” I began, pointing at a sweet-looking woman. She was fairly young, exactly 24 as the news reports said. On her face was half of a bunny's mask, and her long dress flowed like water. She held a basket, and her other hand flicked a sharp knife.

  “Isabelle Monteclerc, though, I imagine you know her as ‘The Rabbit’ from your Academy nursery Rhyme? Say your name in the dark and The Rabbit will appear, asking who wronged you? Yes, that is her. You are not to turn her in.”

  “She’s a serial killer!”

  Levan turned to me, his eyes inscrutable. “Yes. You are part of a Death Cult, Ashley. Your role is not to deliver death like a [Reaper] is. Yours is to manage it. When you establish yourself, you will likely have a [Reaper] under your employ that you will task, and you will also have a [Vampyre].”

  “Why?”

  “You are the cleric. A [Reaper] is what Adrian is for Amaril - Rhyvesta’s [Paladin]. Rhyvesta had needed one that isn’t in Bazerie’s control to kill.. Well, Bazerie.”

  “But Bazerie is a [Vampyre] - and I keep hearing this is the failed one?”

  Levan nodded again, and turned towards the Arbiter’s Enclave. “Both a [Reaper] and a [Vampyre] are tasked with managing the living. A [Necromancer] is tasked with managing the dead, and the cult itself. A [Vampyre] is meant to handle the criminal elements that serve in secrecy - since too much unwarranted killing is a blight. A [Vampyre] is meant to be a shepherd, making sure the flock is maintained.”

  “I.. see. And they fail often?”

  “They… often get corrupted because they have power over domination. Remember, Arcane Manipulates - and they can manipulate an entire population. They shouldn’t. But Bazerie had killed her master and is now free.”

  “And she won’t kill me?”

  “Frankly, she could easily kill you… if she wasn’t under Rhyvesta’s Scorn. There are not many people who worship our Dark Mother, because our clerics are scientists. As you noted, I am not reverent to her in the way a Cleric of Amaril or Flora would be to their deity. She does not want us to worship her like that. She wants us to maintain the cycle. If you start having midnight masses where you sacrifice a newborn to her, you will earn her ire.”

  “Is that a joke?”

  “I wish it was,” Levan chuckled, before turning back to the Arbiter’s Enclave. “Bazerie is a [Vampyre] that, like most of her kin, decided to go power hungry. However, her role was meant to manage a city and keep it growing but not too fast. The Rabbit WAS the enforcer of that cult, but is now missing. I believe Matthew Dawnwater had something to do with it.”

  I nodded, trying to keep track. “Are you telling me this since I still have to kill Bazerie?”

  “Yes, and no. You were brought to the cult on your own merits, but never inducted properly. You should have been tasked like a [Necromancer]. You might have noticed you aren’t strong, or have been given many powers… except for the ability to make and command undead. What we gave up in magic, we made up for in versatility.”

  “Sooo….” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but I followed his eyes to look at the enclave.

  “I would have sent Laertes’ to do the deed for you. And it’d have to only be one. A [Reaper] manages the fields. You manage the Dead. But do not think that means it is not your job. It is just not your job… yet. You are still complicit if you order your pet to do the deed instead of yourself. Which is what should have happened.”

  I crossed my arms, to look down at the floor. “So I’m still going to be a mon–”

  “It’s not one or the other, Dr. Hart. You do not have to be a complete monster, or a complete saint. There is no line that can never be crossed. I was the greatest doctor, and married the greatest woman. You, as Rhyvesta’s Cleric, must become something that very few people will understand.”

  “Yeah? And what’s that?”

  “A professional killer. Your view to both life and death will slowly need to evolve to that of your farming enterprise. Calling ‘an overpopulation’ as weeds taints the metaphor. You are just removing enough carrots so the field isn’t solely one crop. There must be strawberries, there must be cabbage, and there must be turnips and corn.”

  “No corn.” I shot back.

  “Yes, corn! It isn’t about you. It’s about the cycle. Your own farming field can be free of the actual crop if you wish, but you, in your professional side, must become impartial like the Nursemaid is. Like I am. We can not refuse care to the poor or rich. That is not our job. And I am so, so proud of you that you find ways to provide our services of healing for free.”

  I blushed with that sentence, uncrossing my arms. “...I understand. So, what do I do?”

  Levan smiled again. “After this task, I will be giving you one goal. At that task, I expect you to figure out every step without asking. But for now? Bazerie will be unable to ascend until Rhyvesta’s Scorn is dealt with. She is seeking a way around it, so you have time. I highly recommend you finish learning how to be a [Chirurgeon], a [Venefician], and a [Cryomancer] before you go to Flowers-By-The-River.”

  “I have the time?”

  “It is not your fault if Bazerie ascends. If that happens, we will readjust. For now, I will not allow Rhyvesta to kill off her newest Daughter since she doesn’t understand the human side of it.”

  I nodded again, but my gaze kept turning to the floor. Everything was getting harder to focus.

  “Adrian asked me to make a clinic too…” I mused, which caused Levan to step towards me.

  “I did want to discuss him with you, but I can tell I am running out of time. For now, I wanted to do one thing for you, before I request something from you as well. I am going to split your soul so if you were to die, you can be brought back.”

  “What?” I immediately shot back.

  “I am going to make you your first phylactery. You are my disciple, and I will mentor and keep you safe. Do you have something with you–”

  “Adrian’s Necklace.”

  Levan said nothing, but sighed. “Young love. I will not fault you for this, as one of my phylacteries is my wedding ring. However, I highly recommend you do as I did, and give it to your most trusted [Night-Thing]. If you explain what it is, and they are truly loyal, they would die before even a speck of dust were to fall on it.”

  “Ophelia.”

  “Ophelia.” Levan affirmed. His hand opened up, and his Symphony was…

  Death. It was Death. My mind was flooded with the feeling of dying and being tripped apart. The smell of the corpse-dirt. A soul fleeing a body. The songs and sounds of a last breath. All mixed together.

  My body spasmed again, and a pure white essence was extracted from my body. It flew upwards and out. “I have sent it to the necklace you have on your person. It will now reek of Necromancy, so you can’t wear it anymore. However, a [Night-Thing] naturally is necromatic, and I know you have veiled your… sycophant. I will discuss her next time as well, but I do not have the time. Give it to her, and her veil will envelop your trinket, and no one will know. Otherwise, you will need a lead box.”

  My body started to fade.

  Levan frowned immediately. “I thought I had more time. The favour I was going to ask this: When you purchase that bathhouse and make your clinic, I would appreciate it if you were to call it The Cockatrice.”

  “...Why?”

  “To make fun of my wife, not that she would hear about it.”

  I.. didn’t want to ask this question, but I felt like I should. “Who is your wife? Is it Bazerie?”

  Levan laughed! “I am glad you think I am so young, but it’s not her. You would know her as Queen Elizabeth Anisian.”

  I stopped. Everything inside me. “Her?” I choked out.

  “Yes, her.”

  “...You are –”

  “Was.” He corrected.

  “ – was – married to the Phoenix Queen?!”

  Levan nodded. “How else do you think she managed to live for so long? Life and death is Rhyvesta’s Domain, not any other Gods.”

  I opened my mouth, but…

  I opened my eyes to see Jasmine and Noel staring down at me. I coughed out black blood. Jasmine immediately hugged me.

  “Ashley! You’re alive!”

  I patted her back. My body was on fire, and I could feel it begin to shut down again. I dreaded what I had to do next, but Levan’s words came back to me. It wasn’t my job to kill. I had Ophelia for that.

  I opened my mouth, and my throat still cracked. “Bring.. Me… Ophelia…Please," I said. My fingers clasped onto my necklace, and I felt something squirm inside.

  I smiled, for the first time in a week.