The Necromantress and the Blood Princess
Thomas Morau raven spellraven darkholmeraven darknessblood raven stealing
They stepped inside.
Raven’s sharp blue eyes scanned the spines—titles in languages older than Arcadia Prime, bindings of shadow-leather and bone. Victoria moved with purpose, fingers trailing over volumes until she stopped before a thick tome bound in matte black hide that drank the light rather than reflected it. Silver script crawled across the cover like living veins:
*Intricate Military Command of the Dead*
*Advanced Studies in the Art of Necromantic Warfare*
Raven reached up—standing on tiptoe—and pulled it free. The weight surprised her; this was no slim intermediate text. This was dense, heavy with diagrams of battlefield sigils, troop formations of the risen, rites for coordinating
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