Skulduggery's voice rang hollow in his own ears, but that was almost a conscious choice. It wasn't an echo of anything, and it certainly wasn't a reflection of how he felt. It was a concerted effort at keeping all of his feelings out of his voice, and it actually turned out rather well. Too well, in fact.
There was nothing quite like searching for a divine hand most of your life, impossibly discovering that one existed, and then finding out it had nothing to do with your resurrection.
That instead, it was a Necromancer.
A Necromancer with nothing but selfish goals in mind.
Skulduggery remembered the day Gabe was talking about, too. Tracking a raiding party across the mountains, some of the only surviving Necromancers in tow, Tenebrae among them. Back then, the Necromancer was only a lowly acolyte, and Skulduggery had saved his life from an unfortunate-looking man with bad teeth named Jeremy. He didn't particularly remember how. He'd never given the episode any thought beyond belated surprise the necromancy in the knife hadn't killed him.
So he'd always had an aptitude for it. This wasn't just something gained from being resurrected. This was Skulduggery's own doing from the very beginning. The Necromantic magic, Vile, everything. And, just as Skulduggery had always suspected, none of it was for a reason.
There was something almost relieving about not having to hide any of those feelings - not even being capable of hiding them - or having to put them into words. Almost relieving, but not quite. The knowledge still sat heavily in Skulduggery's mind, burning dimly where even Gabe's presence couldn't seem to reach it. It wasn't that thought which suddenly startled Skulduggery into a smile; it was what that thought helped him remember. "This is what you blackmailed Tenebrae with?"
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Skulduggery's voice rang hollow in his own ears, but that was almost a conscious choice. It wasn't an echo of anything, and it certainly wasn't a reflection of how he felt. It was a concerted effort at keeping all of his feelings out of his voice, and it actually turned out rather well. Too well, in fact.
There was nothing quite like searching for a divine hand most of your life, impossibly discovering that one existed, and then finding out it had nothing to do with your resurrection.
That instead, it was a Necromancer.
A Necromancer with nothing but selfish goals in mind.
Skulduggery remembered the day Gabe was talking about, too. Tracking a raiding party across the mountains, some of the only surviving Necromancers in tow, Tenebrae among them. Back then, the Necromancer was only a lowly acolyte, and Skulduggery had saved his life from an unfortunate-looking man with bad teeth named Jeremy. He didn't particularly remember how. He'd never given the episode any thought beyond belated surprise the necromancy in the knife hadn't killed him.
So he'd always had an aptitude for it. This wasn't just something gained from being resurrected. This was Skulduggery's own doing from the very beginning. The Necromantic magic, Vile, everything. And, just as Skulduggery had always suspected, none of it was for a reason.
There was something almost relieving about not having to hide any of those feelings - not even being capable of hiding them - or having to put them into words. Almost relieving, but not quite. The knowledge still sat heavily in Skulduggery's mind, burning dimly where even Gabe's presence couldn't seem to reach it. It wasn't that thought which suddenly startled Skulduggery into a smile; it was what that thought helped him remember. "This is what you blackmailed Tenebrae with?"