Delphinium, or A Necromancer's Home (TCoLaD Book 2)

Death and Dreams

~ (Continued) Trisday, 8th of Aprilis, 11831 ~

The duc's rooms were not his as of yet. Aimé and his wife Hélaïse would still be officially governing for the next year or so and their belongings were in that suite. Pierre was here on temporary adjustment after much time away for school, here for the summer with perhaps a return to the castle come autumn, and then a return in the winter. He would discuss the exact dates with Aimé at a later point.

Pierre was not certain what duties he would have right now, if any, but given the briefing he had had with Vivien, this would not merely be a vacation. That did not bother him—with having the power to do things it would be a pleasure. It was while he had been away and immersed in learning many other things that this part of his life had become less of a priority.

For now, he stood in the guest rooms that had been given to him for his stay this summer. They were elegant, often reserved for visiting nobles, which in a way he was. It reminded him in size of his quarters at the palace. He was on the second story, and so the room included a large set of glass doors that opened up onto a balcony, yet there were shades that could go over them and give privacy. The closet was far larger than he was used to, university meaning a small space for several people, so there would be a lot of empty space for now. Perhaps he would make this more of a study in the future. He could put his journals in there as well.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Shoes tapped with nerves against the stone when he did not reply right away.

"Yes?"

Wolfram entered. He shut the door, hesitated, and then turned the key that was still in the lock. "Your Grace, if I may, please, see Salome..." He looked for the trunk and upon seeing it at the foot of the bed would not turn his gaze away.

Pierre gestured that the young man could go over to it. He dug into his pocket for the chest's key and handed it over to Wolfram.

With relief the boy rushed over and opened the trunk. The silk at the top was set aside, and in the remaining fabric and cushions a young woman lay curled up in a thin nightdress.

"Is she..." He did not reach out though wanted to dearly.

"Exactly as she was when we left," the lord of death said softly. He placed a hand on Wolfram's shoulder. The girl's soul was tentatively linked to him, he had renewed the connection of magic by giving her blood every few days in secret during their trip, and as long as he kept that up she would be fine.

"I promised you, Wolfram."

"Thank you." Wolfram finally reached out to her and stroked her far too pale cheek. Pierre stood and walked back over to the window to give them some privacy.

The Mists of Death were named Akhlys. It was Mora's land, a plane of the dead, and a place where all the dead in Noctuina began their afterlives. Other spirits of the dead were said to reside there as well, but he had only met and known Mora. When one died they were surrounded by the fog as their lives and actions were judged. The mists then cleared and one either found themselves in a dream or a hell until they were reborn again in this world. There were other possible scenarios, some stayed tied to Noctuina and found themselves in their physical places of death, or could temporarily cross over into the realms of the living, but those were special cases that often involved ritual or passion. Mora's suitors, and her lords, could pull back a spirit from the mists, but once they were beyond that it was impossible. Pierre had returned to life those who had died even years ago, so the time spent in the mists could be long, but it differed for everyone.

Wolfram stroked Salome's hair, and then after glancing at Pierre, bent down to kiss her. He replaced the silk to hide her and shut the trunk, locking it with the key before putting it in his own pocket.