Divine Apostasy Book 12 - Chapter 81

Chapter 81

Ruwen stepped back from the circle and watched Hamma work. Golden light poured from her hands as she knelt beside Ink Lord Numarrow's body, her chanting growing more intense with each passing second. The harmonies flowing through her spell contained combinations he'd never encountered before. They reminded him of the ones he’d learned fighting the leprechauns, which meant she almost certainly had tapped into Creation essence.

The spell continued to build in complexity, and Ruwen looked away, mindful of the danger Archie had warned him about. Those concerns had just proven valid. He could still feel the immense harmonic pressure Hamma had created, though.

The light disappeared and the pressure slowly faded. Ruwen turned his attention back to Hamma and the still dead body of Ink Lord Numarrow.

Hamma sat back on her heels, sweat beading on her forehead. She shook her head slowly. "Something's missing. The spell won't take hold. It's like trying to grasp smoke."

Ruwen nodded, unsurprised. He'd already checked Numarrow's body using every detection method he knew. No Soul presence, no Chakra signatures, not even the faintest whisper of an Aura. Whatever made Numarrow himself had departed long ago, leaving only an empty shell behind.

"Thank you, Hamma," Ruwen said stepping back into the circle. He turned to Echo. "Do you want to try? No big deal if you don’t, since I have no idea what I’m asking of you."

Echo rolled her eyes and disappeared as she activated the Aspect of Death. Multiple gasps came from around the circle and Ruwen realized he probably should have warned people. Too late now.

The Aspect of Death floated above the floor, making Echo nearly seven foot tall. The surrounding temperature dropped thirty degrees, and the tattered robe fluttered as a gentle wind arrived, carrying a mist that caused Ruwen to shiver. Echo’s scythe, taller than her hovering form, floated next to her like a bodyguard. The hood contained nothing but inky blackness and when Echo stretched out her hand, the robe fell back, revealing skeletal hands.

The clanking of chains caused Lyra to jump and Ruwen didn’t blame her. From out of the robe the Grimoire of Mourning appeared, straining against the chains that bound it to Echo. Echo didn’t seem to care as her other skeletal hand appeared and grasped the black book.

Echo floated forward, the shadows around everyone expanding until the light from the massive stones on either side of them dimmed to twilight. More smoky mist surrounded them, and the other side of the circle became hard to see.

“Showoff,” Sift said, his voice distant.

The sight made Ruwen's skin prickle. He couldn’t remember ever feeling more intimidated, anxious, and filled with doubt. Lyra gasped next to him.

“Sorry about that,” Echo said, and the fatalistic thoughts pushing on everyone disappeared.

Ruwen wanted to use Harmony to study Echo’s power, but if Archie didn’t want him manifesting the concepts surrounding life, the same caution would hold true for the concept of death. Probably more so.

Destruction Essence radiated from the grimoire, striking Ruwen like grains of sand in a desert storm. The others likely felt it as well, although they wouldn’t have the sensitivity to Destruction Essence to recognize the source.

Ruwen shaped his Divine Domain into a donut, encapsulating the party but leaving Echo alone in the center. His friends would all have their own Divine Domains now, but he guessed they couldn’t control them very well yet, and that didn’t help his non-deity friends.

When black flames spread outward from the floating Aspect of Death, everyone took a few steps backward. The flames sucked the heat from the surroundings and Ruwen used a version of Greenhouse to raise the temperature around the group to something survivable.

Echo stopped when she hovered above the corpse, the hem of her robe brushing the dead Ink Lord. The chains binding the Grimoire of Mourning rattled loudly as the book strained to escape. The grimoire opened on its own, and the whispering started. Faint voices pleaded and begged—their requests incomprehensible. Pages turned with deliberate slowness, as if an eternity awaited.

The process mesmerized Ruwen, and the combination of whispering, darkness, and sense of endless time made him tired. He hadn’t felt like sleeping for years, and it shocked him enough to break whatever the grimoire was doing.

Ruwen looked around and found everyone had their eyes closed. They all looked frozen in time.

“They’re safe,” Echo said, not turning from the grimoire. “Death is jealous of its secrets and strives to hide its actions.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Ruwen asked.

“No need. The grimoire hears the hidden notes you carry. It revels, believing you a Herald of Death. A shepherd willing to burn the world to protect its flock.”

“The book is alive?” Ruwen asked.

“Undead.”

That was even worse, but Ruwen didn’t pry. Instead, he focused on what mattered. “Are you okay? I’m not going to lie, that book freaks me out.”

“I don’t know what okay feels like. I’m living moment by moment, striving for the balance you taught me.”

Ruwen couldn’t ask for a better answer than that. He’d decided to do the same.

“Can I ask one more thing?”

The Grimoire of Mourning continued to turn its own pages.

Death sighed and the mist swirled around them.

Ruwen took that as a yes. “It feels like you’ve stopped time. How are you doing that?”

“The Aspect does it. It feels like letting go of something important, and I might drift away. The longer I keep it active, the harder it is to reattach myself.”

Ruwen looked around. “How far does it spread?”

The Grimoire of Mourning finally arrived at its destination, and the pages stopped flipping.

Thankfully, Echo still answered Ruwen’s question.

“The further I travel from the place it starts, the harder it becomes to move and the stronger the feeling of being adrift becomes. So to answer your question, I don’t know how far this freeze effect spreads, because the thought of eternally being adrift here terrifies me.”

Ruwen bowed to hovering Aspect of Death. “Thank you, Sister.”

Ruwen had sensed something familiar about this time bubble the Aspect of Death had created, and as Echo answered his questions, he’d finally made the connection. This felt kind of like Last Breath. But Last Breath only allowed his thoughts to move freely inside his own mind. What Echo had done extended this concept into the real world.

Echo appeared ready to start her necromancy stuff, and despite the risks, he activated Harmonic Sight and Knowledge and studied his surroundings. After just a moment he released both as his mind reeled from the complex harmonies that appeared to loop into themselves repeatedly. He staggered before catching his balance and prayed he wouldn’t puke. The Aspect of Death would most certainly not appreciate that.

Echo raised her skeletal hands, the Grimoire of Mourning floating in the air before her. Ruwen caught a glimpse of the pages, but each word felt like a spear through his mind and he stopped immediately.

The Aspect of Death chanted, and Echo’s voice took on layers. Her voice became two, and then three, and so on until what sounded like hundreds of voices, all chanting in unison. The words themselves were incomprehensible, drawn from Outerverse languages that predated the existence of their Universe.

Black tar dripped from the grimoire, covering Numarrow's body like black boils. It seeped through his skin, filling his body with the essence of undeath.

Numarrow's body twitched. First his fingers, then his arms, and soon his entire body violently shook, as if something fought to escape from within.

A sudden silence made Ruwen even more uncomfortable. He studied the convulsing body in the sudden quiet.

Echo spoke again, and this time Ruwen understood the simple command.

“Awaken.”

Ink Lord Numarrow’s eyes snapped open. They had the color of muddy water, dull, yet aware.

Numarrow sat up mechanically. His movements seemed unsure, erratic, and lacking the smoothness that marked the living.

The Ink Lord looked around in confusion, but his gaze quickly centered on Echo. He scrambled to his knees and bowed, pressing his forehead into the stone floor.

The Grimoire of Mourning snapped shut with a loud boom, causing Ruwen to jump in surprise despite his training. This whole situation creeped him out, and he’d never felt so out of place.

The noise solidified Ink Lord Numarrow’s transition and the time bubble burst. Once again moments ticked by one after another.

To everyone else, it appeared Echo had performed her magic instantly, and none of them appeared to notice the pause they’d experienced.

Ink Lord Numarrow pushed himself up. He blinked a few times as he studied his hands before turning his attention to the Aspect of Death hovering above him.

The muddy colored eyes looked dull, and Ruwen’s hope that the Ink Lord had kept his memories faded.

"Well, this is inconvenient," Ink Lord Numarrow said, brushing dust from his sleeves.