From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 109: The Song Beneath the Silence

When Lucian woke up, the scent of pine and ash was thick in his lungs. His Echoheart Grimoire pulsed softly, like it could also sense the shift beneath Austmark’s calm performance.

Like something ancient was slowly waking up. Not even this town’s Harmony Pact could suppress it.

At least, I don’t think so. Unless they spent so much time suppressing it before...

And now that we’re here, maybe they can’t do it any longer?

Lucian thought about it as he ate his breakfast with Alice.

"Do you think that the Harmony Pact was taking their dreams and using it to suppress something else?"

"Maybe. That’s something we’ll have to find out for ourselves, no?"

"Mmhm. I think we’ve done better than in Staesis, at least."

Alice laughed. "You mean you didn’t act right away?"

Lucian admitted defeat then and raised both hands in mock surrender.

"Yeah. You and Merry helped me learn that waiting a little isn’t bad sometimes."

+

Lucian returned to the archive, his steps echoing. The clerk wasn’t there this time. He used the opportunity to examine a locked case—one he’d seen the day before but had left untouched. A Grimoire page had been removed.

A record of rites. Lost or hidden?

He placed his hand against the glass and felt the faintest trace of old threadlight—Serafina’s kind. Protective, but defiant. The town hadn’t always silenced its grief. Someone had rewritten history.

First Queen Marguerite, now someone else rewrote history within their own town. What is going on...? Why can’t people just let the dead be?

He tried not to feel like a complete hypocrite.

+

Alice wandered the orchard gardens and found a grove with a stage of stone. No one had spoken of it. Covered in vines and dust, the place looked forgotten. But someone had left offerings: wilted flowers and a broken lyre.

She touched the strings. They vibrated faintly.

A breathless melody slipped between trees.

Someone still remembered music.

Like sand, some things slipped between the cracks. And for this person, it was music.

"So...they tried, but it slipped out anyway. I feel a little comforted by that."

+

Mayor Prescott summoned Lucian and Alice just after breakfast.

"We’ve had a troubling increase in... non-sanctioned behavior," he said, steepling his fingers. "You’ve performed rites, haven’t you?"

"I help those who need rest," Lucian replied. "That’s what morticians do."

"And what if those memories cause harm?" the Mayor asked softly.

Lucian met his gaze. "Grief isn’t harm. Silence is."

The Mayor didn’t say anything for a while.

"You help them remember?"

"Only people who want to remember. They approach me. I just walked around town."

"Ah. I suppose it isn’t unusual. You are the first mortician we’ve seen in a long, long time. I just hope..."

Lucian wanted to ask, but he let it go.

"...that nothing too bad will come from this. The last thing I need is a full town mourning. Austmark’s creative strength used to sway buildings. And when they mourned...it was like they would never get up again. We would be paralyzed for months."

"...is the town really so intense?"

Mayor Prescott only smiled and said sadly, "Even I had dreams I sacrificed for the good of this town."

+

That afternoon, a young girl slipped Alice a folded cloth. Inside: a painting of a field of golden lilies. On the back, written in crayon: "For my mama. She used to paint. I think she forgot."

Alice knelt, blinking tears. "I’ll remember for her. Until she can."

When she returned to their room in the inn, Alice spent the day with her sketchbook and drew a field of lilies.

It’s the first time I’ve drawn without it being a glyph or a rite. It feels nice. I wonder if other artists in this town miss it?

When she looked down on the page again, she saw golden sparks. Happy ones, infused with magic and joy.

Alice didn’t have a Grimoire, but she liked to think it was a different kind of magic.

"Don’t worry," she whispered as she thought of the young girl. "I’ll draw those lilies for your mom."

If they feel like they had to put their dreams aside, if it’s about drawing, I can at least...help those people.

There was a heavy pang in her chest when she realized she couldn’t help everybody.

But instead of squashing it away, Alice sat with the feeling. She felt sad for a little bit, but then remembered she was helping other people with things she knew how to do.

Just need to take the bad with the good. That’s what Merry taught me.

Maybe I can teach Lucian one day.

+

Lucian’s boots walked the road to the old granary. There was a young man there, who remembered his brother bought a voice recorder. He enjoyed recording his thoughts while he packed grain.

The young man shared the last tape with Lucian, before his brother disappeared. It was of him singing a child’s song, off-key, but very sweet.

"That’s his voice," the man said. "I swear. But it’s not mine alone anymore. Can others hear him too?"

Lucian smiled. "They will."

"That gives me hope. Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to keep quiet about it forever." He rubbed his jaw, half of his body decomposed into nothing but bone.

Like the Queen.

"You’re welcome. Being here has healed parts of me I didn’t know needed it, too."

+

That night, Alice dreamed of Rosa—not as the Queen’s ghost, but as her friend. They were in the greenhouse again, pruning vines and laughing.

"You’re different now," Rosa said. "Lighter."

"I’m learning not to carry everything," Alice replied. "Just enough to keep going."

When she woke, the dream left a single golden petal behind on her palm.

+

Lucian returned to the archive once more—this time, with threadlight. He followed a sealed crease in the stone wall behind the shelf.

He found a hidden drawer. Inside: pages marked with Serafina’s crest. Her own record of the Harmony Pact negotiations.

Austmark had been promised healing. Instead, they’d been rewritten.

There is an awful lot of focus on rewriting. Mayor Gray, the Queen, and now Austmark’s Harmony Pact negotiation.

I know they’re all trying to keep something hidden. Things they don’t want to break.

But why?

He examined the Harmony Pact negotiations in full. As long as they willingly sacrificed their own joy, the town’s creative energy wouldn’t become...

"Destructive?"

He remembered asking Mayor Prescott about Austmark’s intense creative energy. The same energy that created beautiful art was also what brought them to their knees, and paralyzed the townspeople.

I think I understand.

It isn’t right, but...

I think I understand.

+

In the evening, Alice took some bread and cheese with her. Her body didn’t feel any hunger, but she liked eating. Being a doll, any food she ate was just turned into mana, which was useful for glyphs.

A win-win situation for her.

She came across an amphitheater, with three people seated on stage. They were whispering to one another. Then, one picked up the broken lyre and began to play.

A shaky, off-tune song filled the space. Then a voice joined in. Then another.

It wasn’t much. But it was music. And it was growing. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Alice smiled and witnessed their performance as she ate her sandwich.

I don’t think I even need to say anything right now. They probably know I’m here.

And there was something a little bit freeing about that, too. She liked quiet moments like this--just enjoying what was in front of her. Following Lucian, there were times when she had to keep walking, keep moving, barely resting.

Privately, she thanked Merry and Cadrel for staying behind.

Because now she appreciated doing things by herself, and with Lucian.

There hadn’t been any violence in town--as long as they were careful.

Maybe we can help Austmark without it ending in a fight. Vel Quen was a different town from this. I hope.

+

Lucian accepted a request from a family whose elder had passed. It had been a long, slow decline, and the body had begun to fade from memory.

Lucian worked in silence, hands steady. He cleaned the body, restored its dignity, and whispered thanks for its journey.

As he closed the ritual, the Grimoire whispered a new phrase: "To honor memory is to restore it."

+

As Lucian and Alice met again at the fountain, the Loom shimmered faintly in his satchel. Neither of them had touched it.

"It’s responding," Lucian said. "To the town waking up."

"Then we keep going," Alice replied. "One name at a time."

In the sky above Austmark, the stars seemed just a little brighter. The people they encountered had a little spark of life back in their lives, and did their jobs without the gloom hanging over their heads.

"I feel good about what we’re doing," Lucian admitted, and Alice placed a hand on top of his.

"Me too. We didn’t need a lot of magic this time, but my heart feels a little more full than it used to."

Maybe that’s part of what grief is all about. It’s not all dark. When you get out of that tunnel, there’s always something brighter.

Lucian felt his Grimoire shake as he ended that thought.

"Hm?"