Chapter 89: Lost in Time

Tirelia's cemetery was quite spacious, as one would expect from the cemetery of a large city. It had mausoleums belonging to prominent families as well as communal graves for the poor, and headstones stretched as far as the eye could see.

Cobblestone paths wound among its many structures, from simple buildings of hand-carved stone to elaborate mausoleums covered in exquisitely detailed reliefs. Together, they told the entire history of Tirelia.

Normally, it would have been a place of peace and quiet reflection, where the memory of those no longer there was honored.

But at that moment, one family's terrified screams shattered that image. In front of them, their young son was levitating and spinning through the air. The boy was laughing his head off, but his parents watched him in horror.

"Why is this happening?!" the boy's distraught mother cried.

"Please, spirit! We only came to visit my father!" her husband pleaded. "Please, I beg you! Let our son go!"

Then, without warning, the boy began to fall, sending his parents into a panic.

But a handsome young man with silver hair and golden eyes caught him in his arms.

"Here's your little one," the newcomer said, handing the boy to his mother, who could not stop sobbing.

"How can we ever thank you, stranger?!" the father exclaimed, shaking the young man's hand vigorously.

"Don't worry. There shouldn't be any more trouble in this cemetery. If you spread the word, it'll help when I file my report with the guild later," he replied with a practiced smile. "Ah, but don't judge the spirit too harshly. It was only a grandfather spending some time with his grandson. He's finally found his way to the underworld now."

The parents looked at each other, their faces growing slightly pale.

***

"Lord Nereziel, you were right. It seems that was the last one."

Shortly after the family left, Ily approached Nerez as he strolled along the cemetery's cobblestone paths, taking in how its architectural styles had changed over time.

"I was fairly certain, but it never hurts to make sure. Those magenta eyes of yours come in quite handy at times like this. They're not just for seeing auras, after all."

"Of course, Lord Nereziel. No one is more useful than me," Ily boasted, puffing out her chest.

"Honestly, I think you spend too much time with Cerys... And don't say my name so loudly. Souls aren't the only ones who might be listening."

"Don't worry, Lord Nereziel. I don't lead an order of spies for nothing," Ily assured him, raising a finger, another gesture she had probably picked up from Cerys. "Right now, the only person left in the cemetery who wasn't frightened away by the ghosts is praying before one of your statues a little farther ahead... In fact, if we keep going this way, we should see her any moment now."

Sure enough, it was not long before they heard sobbing. Following the sound, they came upon a woman kneeling at the foot of a statue depicting Nereziel, the god of death.

It certainly wasn't a temple, but at least Nerez was worshipped in cemeteries. His supposed feud with the sun god over the moon goddess did not change the fact that he was widely recognized throughout Eryndea as the lord of the underworld.

They could not simply ignore him altogether.

Returning to the matter at hand, Nerez thought it would be in poor taste to linger and watch a woman cry, no matter how curious he was about why she had remained despite all the trouble the ghosts were causing.

That did not mean they hurried past her, however. Nerez and Ily simply continued along the cobblestone path, walking past the statue.

As they passed at their unhurried pace, they caught part of what the young woman was murmuring.

"Lord Nereziel, please... I will do anything you ask of me. I know I have paid you little homage until now, but please, in your great mercy, take pity on me and grant my father eternal rest..."

Nerez stopped dead in his tracks.

"Lord Nereziel, you aren't thinking of taking advantage of the situation, are you...?" Ily whispered into his ear. "Just because a woman says she'll do anything doesn't mean she actually means that kind of thing!"

...

!!

"Uuu... I thought the head chops were reserved for Lady Cerys... I think I'd rather you kept playing with my ears..."

Nerez closed his eyes and meditated for a few moments.

Can I pretend I didn't hear that? This really sounds like a huge mess, and I wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole. What could a father have done to make his daughter want to kill him...?

"Ugh... why... Father, why..."

Mm... I shouldn't jump to conclusions. Maybe this has nothing to do with murder.

Nerez knew that at any given moment, a tragedy was unfolding somewhere in Eryndea, but it was hard to walk past one happening right in front of him.

"Ahem..." Nerez approached the young woman under Ily's intrigued gaze. "I didn't mean to overhear... but, well, I'm an adventurer and a necromancer, and this is my companion..." (Ily waved from behind him.) "Maybe we can help with your problem..."

The young woman looked first at Nerez and then at the visiare as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"A... a necromancer?" she asked timidly. "And a visiare, one of the races that serve Nereziel..."

After studying them for a few seconds, the young woman looked at the statue she had been praying to, then at Nerez, her gaze moving back and forth between them.

But Nerez wasn't concerned. The statue looked quite similar to those in the empire, though it was not exactly the same, and even if it had been a perfect likeness, an ordinary person would have found it hard to believe that a god was standing before her.

As Nerez had expected, the young woman's thoughts had gone in a completely different direction. She slowly rose to her feet and addressed them.

"If you truly are a necromancer, then you are a blessing from the god of death. I cannot believe he sent me help so quickly."

"It may just be a coincidence. Let's not get ahead of ourselves and call it a blessing..." Nerez muttered.

"Pardon?" the young woman asked, still struggling to hold back her tears.

"It's nothing. Could you tell us about your problem?"

"Yes, of course... Ah, allow me to introduce myself. I am Falme Artius. You have probably heard the name..."

Nerez glanced sideways at Ily.

"The Artius are a branch of Tirelia's baronial family, and the baron himself is related to the count who rules this county," Ily whispered into his ear.

"It is an honor to stand before a lady of such distinguished lineage," Nerez said, giving a slight bow. "My name is Nerez. As I mentioned, I am a humble necromancer, and this is Ilyra, my archer companion."

"Please, let us dispense with formalities," Falme replied, forcing a smile despite the circumstances. "Besides, the honor is mine. It is not every day one encounters a visiare, let alone a necromancer skilled enough for one to accept him as her companion."

"But I thought necromancers were frowned upon by the nobility..." Ily remarked as she stepped closer to the young woman, her hands behind her back, studying her carefully as though trying to read her intentions.

"That is true... but ever since my mother died when I was a child, my family has held a special respect for the afterlife and the necromantic arts... My father in particular..."

***

The Artius mansion was one of the largest and best-known buildings in Tirelia. Falme's carriage carried Nerez and Ily through one garden after another before they even reached the main entrance.

Of course, the mansion was not even a fraction as grand as Dusk Manor in Empyrean Peaks, but Nerez feigned surprise all the same and praised the family's wealth.

He had been reincarnated as a noble more than once, and although customs varied greatly between worlds and nations, he knew that in high society it never hurt to speak well of the family hosting him.

Falme was not the sort to care much about such courtesies, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless and began telling them the stories behind several paintings and statues they passed in the mansion's corridors.

Nerez found it amusing that the people behind more than a few of those names were probably inhabiting Elysium by now, though, of course, that was not something he could say aloud.

Ily, meanwhile, listened closely to the stories of a family with deep ties to the kingdom's nobility, fitting each new detail into her already extensive knowledge of Eryndea's politics, though much of it was already familiar to her.

After making their way through the sprawling Artius mansion for some time, they finally reached the double doors of the chamber where Falme's father, Alegor Artius, remained.

"When I found my father, he was in exactly this state," Falme explained as she opened the doors.

An unsettling silence hung over the chamber. Light filtering through a narrow gap between the drawn curtains illuminated what appeared to be a statue at the center of the room. In truth, it was Falme's father.

The moment Nerez stepped inside, he knew something was wrong. The air felt unnaturally heavy, and a strange chill crept across his skin. Beside him, Ily had felt it too and was glancing nervously around the room.

When they reached Alegor, Falme gestured to the circle her father had drawn on the floor.

"My father is a renowned mage in Phatar," Falme explained. "When my mother died, he even spent some time studying the necromantic arts in the empire... But once he became convinced there was no way to bring a soul back from the underworld without the god of death's permission, he abandoned the idea."

It feels as if they're blaming me for that, but I'm not the one who made the fundamental laws...

"Of course, my father also thought of the stories of heroes who ventured into the underworld in person to rescue the souls of their loved ones. But even among those who managed to escape the hordes of demons or cross the Last Valley without offending the visiare, not one was able to overcome Erebion, the guardian of the gates, and pass through them."

Well, I might be a little responsible for that... But either way, I'm sure they were reunited with their loved ones once everyone had died. Elysium hasn't grown so much for nothing, so my conscience is clear.

Ily, too, looked off to the side, as though to say that Sae handled foreign relations while Osvel was the one who dealt with intruders. She might as well have started whistling.

"Ah, of course! I don't mean to blame anyone, least of all the visiare!" Falme hurried to clarify, clasping her hands together. "Souls going to the underworld is the natural order of things, and the visiare's protection of the underworld and its lord is entirely admirable... I only ask that you understand my father, who was never the same after my mother died."

"That's completely understandable," Nerez reassured her with an awkward smile. "But how did we get from that to what happened in this chamber?"

Falme lowered her troubled gaze as she gathered her thoughts.

"After realizing there was no hope of bringing my mother back through necromancy or by venturing into the underworld, my father began studying the laws of time instead. He spent quite a while on it, perhaps hoping to find another way to reunite with her, though he never explained it to me in detail... He probably knew he was doing something he shouldn't..."

"This is serious..." Ily murmured, her magenta eyes glowing as she studied the figure frozen in time.

Falme nodded. "Nothing I've tried has worked to save my father, and I don't have the courage to end his life and free him from his temporal prison. So when you said you were a necromancer, I thought you might know a painless way to end his life, perhaps by absorbing his vital energy..."

"It's a good thing you didn't take matters into your own hands," Ily said, glancing at the knife lying on the floor. "If you'd tried to harm him, he would have suffered forever. His time is frozen, after all."

Falme covered her mouth with both hands as horror spread across her face.

"But that isn't the only problem..." Ily continued. "Is it?"

Falme nodded and approached one of the chamber's bookcases, looking dejected.

"At first, it was only my father, but after a while..."

With that, Falme took a book from the shelf and let it go. But it did not fall. Like her father, it remained suspended in the air, frozen in time.