Bluebell Eyes

Ch 8

I was paralized at the sight. The corpse looked exactly like Emily except her blonde hair was a mess and her eyes were dull like this. Whoever brought her down here was careful enough to hide her but not enough to be respectful of the dead. I could tell that it definitely wasn’t a fall to her death. I knelt next to her body in shock. I reached out my hand and felt her wrist. I don’t know what Iwas hoping for, she’s been a ghost for years. I guess part of me hoped that it would still be warm and maybe there would be a pulse. It was the opposite, her skin was freezing and I couldn’t feel a pulse.

What was odd however was that after all this time, she still looked somewhat alive. Her skin was deprived of warmth but her body had yet to decay. If I closed her eyes, it would almost look as if she was sleeping but had just never seen the sun. She was crowded by strang flowers. They had white petals with red stripes and a black center. I recognize it for when I was last down here flipping through books.

I rushed over to the desk where the book still layed and started flipping through it looking for the page, it was one of the pages that wasn’t all in a different language. I found it and read the description in beautifully messy cursive handwriting.

Mors Lilium, or the death lily, is a rare flower that can preserve organisms after being cut off of a life source. Most commonly used in necromancy when you need to keep a body preserved during a particularly long ritual.

Underneath was a detailed drawing of the flower. Was it pure chance that someone put her there or was it purposeful. And why? If it was purposeful, what reason would they have? I flip to the back where they mention death and actual necromancy rituals. If I could only figure these out, I could do something, I could help Adrien, Alya, and Emily. I just hope Scarlet moth doesn't get to them first.

“Marinette, you're late.” My Grandfather appeared.

“Actually, I’m early, I’m skipping school.” He noticed the book and I glanced at Emily, he followed my eyes.

“Ah, I see you’ve found her.” he just casually stated.

“Did you do this to her?”

“No, I would never do such a thing. Sadly, quite a few years ago I witnessed my daughter dragging her down here.”

“My mom did this?” I raised a hand to my mouth stunned.

He merely pursed his lips at the painful memory then forgot my question. “Never mind that, now for your first lesson.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘never mind’? That’s my friend’s dead body!”

“For the first lesson, we’ll be practising on dead rats.” he continued giveing me a stern look, I shut my mouth on the subject feeling uneasy.

“So, what are we doing exactly?” I started to follow along with his lesson.

“Well, we’re reanimating dead mice, not bringing them back, we’d have to find their souls for that and that’s a bit advanced right now. Trust me, bringing a human back to life is easier than a mouse.” he brought me over to a corner of the room where I had to fetch a dead rat. I’m not sure how much longer I can refrain from vomiting today. I grabbed the ceremonial knife as requested by my grandfather and sat in the middle of the floor.

I slit the tip of my finger, the blade was sharp enough that it felt like a paper cut. Per his instruction, I drew an elaborate design, rune, on the floor with my bloodied finger. Once the last ends connected, the blood let out a slight glow.

“Good, now set the rat directly in the center.” I picked up the rat and was careful to make sure my cut finger didn’t touch it. I set it delicately in the center and the glow went two ways. Half shot to the rat while the other seeped into my body filling me with the toxic yet delicious feeling of power. No, I must stabilize my mind, I can’t let it get to my head. I focused the power and directed it to my heart. It was harder than just letting it consume my mind.