From Corpse to Crown: Reborn as a Mortician in Another World-Chapter 73: Resistance in the Thread

After what happened in the Garden Above Ground, practicing glyphs became Alice’s new hobby. Lucian watched as she held a piece of chalk and gently drew a line across the wood slab.

But she hated being watched, especially when she was trying to focus.

The shape Alice wanted to draw was simple enough. It was called a grounding glyph. The Grimoire explained that apprentice morticians used it to test their magic’s stability before trying to perform rites.

There were no emotional triggers or memory tethers needed to activate. By all counts, it should have been an easy one to cast. But for an unknown reason, it didn’t.

+

Alice erased the chalk line and shook her hand. "Why does it keep sliding?" She asked, sighing through her teeth.

Trying to keep his distance, Lucian leaned over slightly. "Your lines are clean...and the proportions are right..."

"So why can’t I do it?" She turned the wooden slate toward him. Like she said, the glyph was perfectly drawn. But when she touched it, the flower’s outer lines fizzled. It was like watching dust scatter from a dried petal.

Lucian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked at Merry, mentally pleading for help. She caught his eye and turned, suddenly very busy with washing already-clean dishes.

Merry! Come on! I don’t have all the answers... Lucian’s grey eyes bore into her back, clearly hurt.

Alice tossed the bit of chalk onto the floor, where it bounced onto the carpet. "Is the Loom blocking me again? Do I not have any magic ability?"

He shook his head. "You cast a glyph before, so we know you have magic. And no, it isn’t blocking you again." Lucian took the Loom out for her to inspect. It was like his Grimoire--silent and observant. The thread spool looked like it was breathing deeply, like it was asleep.

She looked up. "Then what is it?"

Lucian hesitated. The term "skill issue" was a bit too harsh for her. Instead, he said quietly, "Maybe it’s you?"

Alice blinked. He waited for her to throw something at him, and felt relieved when she didn’t do anything. She just pouted, and he almost smiled at how her cheeks looked pale pink, like they had faint hints of blood.

He stepped around and sat beside her on the couch. They were still in the Annex sitting room, fresh after breakfast. It never failed to impress Lucian--how bright the underground could get, with some magic and their headquarters was underneath a great cliff face.

Lucian heard a bluebird chirping and imagined it adding some twine into its nest. It was a little envious, honestly. How sure a bird was of its purpose, even if it was only acting according to instinct.

He returned to the task at hand. "Glyphs aren’t just drawings. They’re the stabilized form of our intentions."

"But I intended to make it," she muttered. "I really did."

"I know," he said. "But...a part of you didn’t want it to succeed."

Alice crossed her arms. "That doesn’t make sense."

Lucian reached for the chalk. "May I?"

She nodded.

He drew the same glyph--it was a flower. Same number of petals, same proportions. Then he set the wooden slab between them.

"Okay, now watch."

He pressed his palm to the glyph.

It held.

A faint glow pulsed along the lines. Steady. Balanced.

Alice didn’t say anything at first. Her fingers curled around the hem of her sleeves.

Lucian waited. She was very new to living, and this was one of her first experiences with frustration.

Then: "It’s not fair," she said, voice quieter than before.

"I know."

"I can cast emotional glyphs..." she continued, sadness coloring her voice. "I can thread feelings, see other people’s memories--I can even fall into Rosa’s echoes sometimes. But when I want to draw something neutral..."

Her hands scratched at her thighs impatiently. "I just can’t hold it."

+

Lucian looked down at the still-glowing glyph. I wonder what’s blocking her from doing it. Maybe it’s trauma-based?

In their many conversations, Lucian remembered a piece of advice Gethra gave him: "Trauma damages more than just memories. It messes with you on a physical level. It feels like you’re trying to do something without permission."

"Alice," he said carefully, "can I ask something a little... heavy?"

She glanced sideways. "When haven’t we dealt with something heavy?"

Lucian half-smiled. "It’s about Serafina...is there anything she’s scared of?"

The name still sat heavy like a pair of wet jeans.

He thought Alice was just going to throw a knife at him. "I...I’m not sure. Some memories are fuzzy. And whenever I reach for Rosa...sometimes she just turns away."

Lucian traced a line on the edge of the slab.

"Maybe..you don’t want to remember?" he said quietly. "There could be a lot of reasons. It just doesn’t have to be something that hurts. Maybe because something inside you believes that remembering will hurt you even worse."

Alice took his words in and her eyes widened. The wind around them disappeared.

"That’s...Lucian, that’s ridiculous!" she whispered. "I’m not afraid of the glyphs. I draw them all the time."

His Grimoire pulsed softly.

[Alice’s Emotional Dissonance: 70%

Proceed with caution.]

I think I prefer fighting monsters to this. Or performing rites...why are friendships so hard?

"Well, not this kind," he said kindly. "The ones that simply exist don’t really care about feelings. Maybe the one you’re trying to draw right now might be close to something that--"

Lucian didn’t finish his sentence, especially after seeing Alice’s expression. She’d gotten the point.

Alice looked away, her thick braid gently knocking across her dress. Her eyes were glassy, like she wasn’t really seeing what was happening.

She picked up the bit of chalk and started to draw.

One line. Two petals. Three lines on the le-- 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Her hand trembled and the chalk snapped.

Lucian reached for her, instinctively—but she held up a hand.

"I’m okay," she said. "I just... I need a minute."

Lucian nodded. She stood and walked toward the ladder leading up to the Garden Above Ground. As she left the Annex, Merry finally faced him.

"I think you handled that well enough."

Lucian exhaled and tried to wring the stress out of his body. "No thanks to you. Why didn’t you help? You’re much better than me at this heart stuff!"

Merry smiled and said gently, "Because if I did, you’d never learn."

He just sat there and grunted. "It gets easier," Merry said softly. "when you keep trying. At least you’re practicing on Alice, instead of getting thrown out of a client’s house."

"That was one time!" Lucian groaned.

+

She felt like she could finally breathe in the Garden Above Ground. Alice stared at the different-colored flowers for a long time, like it held secrets she wasn’t ready to dig up.

His questions were too hard.

She felt sad, but more importantly, she felt angry. There were goosebumps on her flesh and her energy was high, like she wanted to hit something.

But hitting things that weren’t enemies were wrong, so she just...left.

Better than throwing something at him, I guess?

Even that line of thinking confused Alice. She’d been Lucian’s companion for so long, and followed him without even questioning it. But after he started implying a neutral glyph could have led to her original body’s passing, she couldn’t accept it.

Or maybe, she didn’t want to.

I’d better wait until I’m okay. I don’t want to argue with anybody. Is it wrong I want to learn more about Serafina...and I don’t want to at the same time?

+

She didn’t descend from the garden until after bedtime. Merry told Lucian to go to bed instead of waiting up for her, in case she was still upset.

Lucian, unused to the thorny bramble of a woman’s feelings, did as he was told. In his own room in the Annex, Lucian grabbed a spare wooden slab.

He redrew the glyph one more time.

This time, he added a thread at the edge—a small braid of grief. An open door, of sorts.

Then he tried to think about Serafina. Not Alice, and not Rosa.

Just Serafina. Whoever she was.

And the glyph sparked.

Just once.

A sharp blue flash.

Then it went still.

Lucian sat back.

"She’s in there," he whispered. "But she’s not ready to come out yet."

And maybe that was okay.

Maybe some names needed to be earned again.

+

The next day, he went up to the Garden Above Ground--and he saw Alice, curled up near the flat rock table, asleep. Her hands still curled around her satchel, a box of chalk tucked inside.

Merry climbed up and looked at her.

"She tried," she said.

"I know. She tried hard."

Lucian glanced at the chalk marks left on the table. She must have erased and redrew several times.

"She’s determined, even if she can’t finish the flower just yet. But she made progress." Merry pointed out a slightly faded drawing of a flower. There were seven petals and two lines across the leaf.

"Two out of three leaf lines. Not bad at all," Merry said aloud. "Most apprentices can’t even make one petal react."

Lucian smiled. "Yes. We’re very proud of you, Alice. You can do it. Try again tomorrow."

Merry giggled and watched as Alice snuffled in her sleep, curled up like a cat against her satchel.

"She’ll definitely try again tomorrow."

Lucian nodded.

And the Loom stirred in his bag like it had heard every word.