So Lyra is a Necromancer
The night was cold, but that was to be expected on the eve of the winter season.
The princesses had been shortening the days and lengthening the nights; there were already warnings being sent out by the pegasi couriers to prepare for the coming snows. Clouds were covering more and more of the sky each day. Fires were a common sight for travelers, the various camps set up off to the side of the road when more substantial shelter couldn't be found. The desire to keep warm often overruled the need to stay hidden at times like these.
However, for two individuals, the cold didn't seem to matter.
Admittedly, one was wearing a cloak as they trotted along; it was dark as the night around them and seemed reasonably thick, but one would still need a good tolerance for the cold. The other one wore nothing beyond a hat and a simple vest, yet seemed to be entirely indifferent to the cold around him.
The sparsely clothed pony, an earth pony stallion, paused to adjust his hat, then continued on; the road was long, and pauses couldn't be afforded. Instead, they passed the time talking.
“I still don't get it!” The stallion said, “Where did the whole 'coins in the ear' thing start? What's even the point?”
The cloaked pony did the best approximation of a shrug possible without wings. “I can't speak for when your culture started doing it” – the pony's voice marked her as a mare – “but the reason for it relates to your belief in the river Styx and the ferrypony, Charon. Supposedly, he grants passage across the river to the souls that can pay him one coin of any value. Otherwise, they remain in Limbo and are unable to move on to the next life, eventually ceasing to exist altogether if the passage isn't made.
“As for putting them in the ear, that's more a matter of them wanting to keep them with the deceased when they leave this world. Not every pony has a favorite article of clothing they wish to be buried in, but pretty much all of them have ears.”
“If you say so.” They walked in silence for a short time, before the stallion spoke up again. “So... you don't believe that, I'm guessing?”
“Not particularly, I'm afraid. There are a lot of beliefs about what happens to us when we die; I've heard them all at one time or another. They're actually rather fascinating to study.”
“Well, which one do you believe?”
The cloaked pony chuckled. “Honestly, I'm pretty much ambivalent about the lot of them. I don't really care enough to pick one over the others, and my work doesn't exactly give me a straight answer. As you likely know, by now.”
“Yeah...” The stallion's pace slowed slightly as he looked to the ground. “It's not exactly clear to me either, even though I –”
“Don't go down that road, friend.” The cloaked pony rested a hoof on her companion's shoulder. “Like I said, I don't have a clear answer, and I'm guessing anything you've got in your head isn't clear to you right now either. Just answer me this: is what little you can recall good, or bad?”
Silence followed the mare's words. The two of them just stood in the middle of the road while the stallion racked his brain, trying to dig out the memories he wanted. Finally, after several minutes, he gave a small smile. “Good, it's very good.”
Even though the hood of the cloak still obscured her face, the mare's tone implied she was smiling as well. “That's what I thought. Now, come on; we're almost there. And your family's waiting.” The stallion nodded, his smile becoming decidedly more melancholy, and the two of them continued on without another word.
Thankfully, the mare's word proved accurate. Though the lack of conversation seemed to lengthen the road, they spotted the lights of a village not more than a few minutes later. Of course, that was not their final destination. They veered off the path before they could make out all that much, circling around the high walls that kept out bandits and other unwanted guests. A short walk later, they spotted a dimmer light flickering behind a stonewall fence. The light was just barely able to illuminate the small pasture within, but it was bright enough to guide them the rest of the way.
The stallion glanced to his traveling companion. “You seem to know a lot about these things – want to explain why the cemetery is out here? Doesn't seem all that safe.”
“It's not –” the mare gave another approximation of a shrug “– but that's not likely to change. Ponies, and most species, are pretty much afraid of the dead. They don't really feel comfortable being reminded of their own mortality. And then there's the entire issue of lost loved ones... sorry.”
“No, no –” the stallion waved her off “– I know how it is. I lost my parents about the same age as my youngest, so I can understand what you're saying. Still, I think it's a bit easier, now that... you know.”
The mare chuckled. “Yeah, I hear that a lot.” The levity in her voice quickly left as they finally reached the cemetery's entrance. “So... you ready for this?”
With a sigh, the stallion steeled himself and nodded. “Let's get this over with.”
The mare nodded, and trotted inside. With what they were planning, it was best to not give him time to rethink his decision.
The cemetery was quiet, which was to be expected, so the crackling of a small fire seemed unnaturally loud as they approached the light. A pegasus mare and two colts – both earth ponies – stood around it, all seeming tense as they approached. Their eyes ignored the cloaked mare, only focused on the stallion as he slowly made his way forward, stopping just short of the light.
“Daddy?” One of the colts took a hesitant step forward, sounding equal parts nervous and excited. “Daddy, is that you?”
The stallion moved like he was going to take a half-step backward, but the cloaked mare cleared her throat before he could. He gritted his teeth, mentally reaffirmed his decision, then took another step forward. “Yeah, or at least most of me anyway.”
The colts both gasped in fright and the one that hadn't left the fireside buried his face into his mother's legs. The pegasus mare put a hoof to her mouth to stifle her own sounds as tears welled up in her eyes, her head shaking slightly in denial of what she saw.
Covering most of his chest was a large – and very open – wound. The exposed ribcage was cracked in places, and several of the bones seemed to have been gnawed on recently. However, despite the obviously fatal wound, he showed no signs of discomfort or pain, and he was still up and moving without even the slightest issue. In fact, he actually gave a humorless smile at his family's reactions. “Yeah, I know I'm not much to look at right now.”
The remark was followed by a tense silence; none of the ponies seemed willing to speak or acknowledge what they saw. Then, the colt that had originally approached his father took a hesitant step forward. Another soon followed, and it wasn't long before he broke into a short gallop to close the rest of the distance. He threw himself at his father, then wrapped his neck around the stallion's leg. Though his eyes were full of tears, and he sniffled several times trying to speak, there was a small smile on the colt's muzzle. “W-welcome home, Daddy.”
The stallion, still heedless of the massive wound, gave an equally small grin and lowered his head for a nuzzle. “Good to be home, even if it's just for this.” Slowly, the other two members of his family made their way over to the undead earth pony and added themselves to the hug. “I'm sorry,” he finally said, “I'm so sorry this happened.”
“Oh, Stalwart...” the pegasus mare hugged the animated corpse of her husband tightly, no longer caring about the state of it. “What did happen?”
Stalwart Shield, the stallion in question, looked down as his eyes darkened. “Bandits, just like they were worried about. They jumped the caravan as soon as we were out of sight of Hoofington. They had dogs with them, wolves, really... I managed to hold off most of them while the rest of my detachment got the caravan out of there... Did it make it here on time?”
The pegasus mare nodded, tears flowing freely even as she struggled to remained mostly composed. “Y-yes, the supplies made it in one piece. Th-the town owes- owes-” She bit back a sob and then continued. “We all owe you so much for what you did, Stalwart.”
“That's good then.” For the first time since his death, a genuine smile graced Stalwart Shield's lips. The supply caravan had been his only concern upon reanimation, so it was good to have some closure.
Speaking of closure... The cloaked mare cleared her throat, turning the family's attention toward her. “I hate to cut this moment short... but there is something of a time limit on all of this. I can only keep the spell keeping him animate going for so long, and it's been going for a long time now as is.”
Stalwart nodded, hugging his wife tight and giving her a nuzzle. “I'm sorry, I really am. I should have been more careful, I should have said how much I love you more than I did. I should have done so many things I was too stubborn or too stupid to do before all this. I wish I still could, I wish there was more time...”
The mare kissed her husband, no longer caring what he was. “I wish there was too, Stalwart... I wish I could tell you so many things I never said enough. I'm so sorry.”
“I don't want you to go!” The youngest colt, having kept quiet the entire time, suddenly spoke up and rushed forward, wrapping himself around one of his father's legs. “Please don't go, Daddy!”
The silence that followed the child's plea almost seemed to be strangling them all, even if Stalwart didn't breathe anymore. There was simply no way to explain it in terms the colt would understand; he was too young to know what death was, too innocent to know that sometimes ponies didn't wake up when they went to sleep. None of them wanted to be the one to tell him that.
In the end, his father was the one who decided to bite the metaphorical bullet.
“Daddy has to go.” Stalwart's voice was strained, but it never wavered as he put on a small smile for his son's benefit. “It's something everypony has to do sooner or later.”
“But why?”
The cloaked mare flinched slightly, a barely perceptible movement of fabric the only hint of her emotions.
“Because that's just how it is sometimes, and nothing can change it. Ponies have tried, but there isn't anything that can be done for it.” Stalwart lay down, taking care not to touch any of his exposed innards to his child. “Daddy has to go soon – and Daddy's sorry he does – but it's just how it is, Sterling.” The undead pony reached a hoof up and gently wiped some tears from his son's face with his fetlocks. “I need you to be strong, for Mommy. Think you can do that, Sterling?”
The tiny colt sniffled a bit, but nodded anyway. Stalwart then turned to his other son. “That goes for you too, Iron. You're the stallion of the house now, so I need you to help your mother out whenever you can. Understand?” The older colt nodded, trying his hardest to stop crying.
Finally, Stalwart turned back to his wife, who didn't waste any more words and just threw her legs around his neck for one last tight hug and a final kiss. “Wait for me,” she pleaded, “whenever you finally get to the other side. Please?” Though he had never been much of a believer – prior to his death, anyway – in the same things his wife believed unquestioningly, he nodded. “Thank you, Stalwart. Have a good journey.”
The tearful reunion now over, for the most part, the stallion turned toward the one thing that he'd yet to really look at or acknowledge since arriving: an open grave.
It was something that mare had set up before coming to find him. Stalwart's family had the hole dug while she was out searching for him and – if she failed to find him within a month's time – she would reimburse them for the cost to have it refilled as well as the initial cost of digging it, the latter paid before she left. If she found him, she would only cover the initial grave digging, and the family would pay her a certain sum of money upon his return.
All that came later, though.
Right now, all that mattered was Stalwart was standing at the edge of his own grave, looking down at an empty coffin waiting to receive him. With a sigh, he turned to give one last smile to his family, then climbed down into the hole. The coffin was an awkward fit – they always were – but he managed to settle himself inside as best he could and gave a final nod to the cloaked mare.
The mare returned the nod, then reached a hoof up to remove her hood. A mint green unicorn with a mane of bright seafoam revealed herself, her golden eyes almost seeming to glow in the dim light of the fire. She gave Stalwart a look of intense concentration as the golden light of her magic flashed about her horn for the briefest of moments. Down in the grave, Stalwart's eyes slowly closed, as though he were drifting into sleep, and the faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth. The unicorn's magic flared once more and shut the coffin's lid before his movements ceased entirely; his children didn't need to see that just yet.
There was a awkward silence while the foals just sat there, both confused by what was happening and – though only one of them had an idea why – rather sad, while the two mares did everything they could to not meet each other's gaze. Finally, when it got to the point that the fire was little more than embers, the unicorn addressed the matter at hoof.
“About my payment...” The implied question hung in the air as Stalwart's widow remained silent for a few moments longer. Finally, she moved her wing and a sack fell out from beneath it, jingling as it hit the ground.
“You charge a steep fee.” The pegasus made no effort to move, or pass the bag to the other mare. She simply stared at the strange pony that had given her the chance for one final moment with her husband.
The unicorn gave a tired sigh. There were always issues when it came to her fee. “If what I did was easy,” she said, “more ponies would do it. And I still have to pay all my bills.”
Silence reigned again, broken only the unicorn muttering something under her breath that was lost on the widowed pegasus. Finally, though, she bent a wing down and slid the pouch toward the unicorn. It didn't go far, but it was close enough that the unicorn could pick it up with her magic. “Thank you.” The pegasus sounded a bit nervous as she said the words. “I mean it. When I first heard about you, I was...”
“Scared, freaked out, convinced I was a psychopath looking to raise a zombie army?”
“All of the above.”
The unicorn started to crack a smile, only for it to die as soon as she spotted the expression on the pegasus's face. She wasn't making a joke. She really had thought all those things about her. The unicorn suddenly spotted a very interesting blade of grass and decided to focus on it instead of the other pony. “I see... I'd best be going then.”
The pegasus said no words against it, nor did she give any kind words of parting. One of her children raised his hoof to wave good-bye, but she gently forced it down and shook her head. Even for a graveyard, the place now seemed even more tense; quite the feat, all things considered.
As for the unicorn, she had only one thought in her mind.
I need a Luna-damned drink!
“Sho she saysh 'All off above'! What givesh about thoshe horsheapplesess!”
The unicorn necromancer was barely able to sit up straight anymore. Several glasses that had once held cider now lay empty on the table beside her in a loose pile. Some unfortunate pony she had snagged on the way past was having his ear bent over her life story. She had finally finished relating what had happened on her last job – complete with the usual drunken tangents – and had just started ranting.
“Why would Ah wan an army? Huh!? What would Ah do with it? Why 'm Ah southern now?” She blinked, pausing to pursue this line of the thought as best she could. Taking that as his chance, the sober pony quickly tried to make his exit, only for her to pull him right back with her free hoof.
“'snt 'nough that Ah do thish jobs? Ah mean, Ah give poniesh a chansh to shay good-bye. Sho what if they're already dead when they do, they shtill get to shay it!” Her magic flickered and flashed as she lifted the glass upward with her telekinesis. “Doesn' dat coun' for anyshing?” The drink made it, just barely, only for her to lose concentration and let it clatter to the table once more. The little liquid still in the cup dribbled out and over the floor, but she barely seemed to notice.
“Maybe der right.” Her tone had become decidedly melancholy, her hoof now lazily stirring the spilled cider on the table and her eyes barely focused. “Maby Ah am a bad pony and shouldn' try actin' like 'm not... Ah don' wanna be a bad pony....”
The unicorn opened her mouth to continue her depressed rambling, only to be cut off by a sudden shout from the tavern door.
“Lyra Heartstrings!”
Every eye in the room turned to face the speaker, an earth pony mare with a cream colored coat sporting a two-tone mane of blue and pink. She was clad in armor that shone even in the dim light of the bar and sported the image of a sun where a cutie mark would be. A war hammer that probably weighed more than an entire pony was held in a special sheath on her back to allow for an easy draw.
Of course, all that ignored the fact her lapis-blue eyes were hardened into an icy glare right at the inebriated unicorn.
“There you are!” she continued, all but stomping forward as her armor rattled around. Most either made a pointed effort to look anywhere else but at either of the two mares, or else hastily tried to hide various things from the earth pony's sight. The symbol that adorned her armor was that of the Solar Guard, a rather famous order of paladins that acted – according to them, at least – in the name of Princess Celestia herself; not exactly somepony you wanted to get on the bad side of. Plus, paladins as a group weren't exactly known for being the most understanding of ponies when it came to the bending of certain laws.
The unicorn, showing none of the concern of her fellow patrons, blinked blearily at the approaching mare. “Heeeeeeeeey, Bonbon.” Her voice was still slurred, though she seemed to at least be making a token effort to speak more clearly now. “I's been thinkin'... maybe you'should find shomepony better.”
Bonbon stopped short, and her expression – while still angry – took on a bemused look. “Excuse me?”
“Shee... itshlikethis –” Lyra finally released her grip on the unfortunate stallion, and he quickly galloped away “– yer a pally-din and Ah'm a neshro- an nexa- I raishe the dead. Maybe we should shtart sheein' other ponish?”
Bonbon was silent for a moment, her glare speaking of nothing but disapproval and more anger. Then, as if someone had pulled the stopper out of a tub, the mare let loose a sigh and all of the anger just seemed to disperse. Her expression softened into something much more kind and less indicative of equicidal rage. She slid her war hammer out of its sheath with her mouth, then set it gently down on the floor so she could sit next to Lyra without it being in the way.
That same soft expression in her body language seemed to have seeped into her tone of voice as well. When she next spoke, it wasn't the growling of an angry pony, or even the bellowing of an enraged one, it was the sympathetic tone of somepony who understood. “Lyra, you and I both know you don't really think that.”
Lyra no longer found it in her to look directly at Bonbon, even in her drunken half-stupor. Instead, she busied herself playing with the spilled cider once more. “Ish fer da besht, Bonny... you can' be ashosho- you can' be weh evil shings like me.”
With a small shake of her head and a humorless smile, Bonbon put a hoof on Lyra's shoulder. “We've been over this a thousand times, Lyra, you're not evil.”
“But Ah-”
“Don't interrupt me.” Bonbon's tone remained gentle, but there was now some force behind it as well. “As a paladin of the Solar Guard, it is my duty and my ability to find and stop all evil I may see. I have known you for years Lyra, even before you started using the necromantic arts. You were not a bad pony then, you are not a bad pony now and I don't believe you ever will be a bad pony. No matter what anypony may think of what you are and what you do, I know the real you. What's in here –” she lightly touched a hoof to Lyra's chest “– won't ever let you be bad. It's too nice for that.”
Lyra gave a drunken smile, followed by a small hiccup, and more or less draped herself over Bonbon. “I lush youuuuuuuuuu, Bonny.”
The earth pony chuckled, using one of her forelegs to return the overly enthusiastic hug. “I love you too, Lyra.”
They stayed like that for only a few moments, though, before Lyra spoke up again. “Shink yous cud take meh outshied... Ah shink Ah need ta puke for a bit.”
With a tired sigh, and a mildly disapproving frown - one that didn't quite take, considering the corners occasionally twitched upward – Bonbon heaved the loosely conscious mare up onto her back, picked up the war hammer in her mouth, and made her way back out the pub doors.
“You're still going to pay for all the cider you drank, Lyra. I'm not helping you skip out on a bill, no matter how much I love you.”
Lyra, still in her inebriated state, only cracked a lopsided grin. “Danged, shought ah had yous der too.”
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interesting introduction. I shall read this later.
Well, this has great potential to be freakin hilarious, so please, for the love of celestia, keep writing this!
Interesting. While I feel necromamcy is wrong, I could try to understand wanting to help ponies. On another note, drunk Lyra is Texas Lyra.
This... deserves more views. Maybe it's because I've read Background pony recently and am still a bit sentimental when it comes to Heartstrings (hee hee) but I'd really like to keep track of that story, and see it growing into a big epic adventure and all.
May your story become popular! :3
Heehee. You should've mentioned you posted it. Frikken faved
4158253 Yeah, I want it to be popular as well. It'd be a nice change of pace.
I like this. Necromancy itself may be a vile art, but of course just cause you practice it doesn't mean you deserve to be burnt at the stake...
Favorited…
Speaking as someone who personally IS an Undead abomination who cheerfully traded life, love and mortality for an eternal existance and an unliving skeleton with super-powers in order to further his own megalomanical, omnicidal ends... I whole-lack-of-heartedly approve of this story!
Yes, even if Lyra is doing the more sort of... Ghost Whisperer-y sort of thing (zombie whisperer?).
Just 'cos I, and the rest of the Aotrs, for example, use necromancy for our own foul ends doesn't mean the whole practise is wrong, after all... Necromancy is a tool, at the end of the day, no more good or evil than any other tool. And any tool can be used to serve evil ends, especially if you're creative and apply sufficient force! I mean, if I take a chair and beat someone until is shatters and then disembowel them with the broken edges, it definately makes me inherently evil but it doesn't mean everypony should go and start condemning furniture manufactuers, does it? That'd be just silly! It's the same with necromancy, really. Except you can't sit on zombies. Well, you can, but it's way less comfortable than a chair. And, obviously, you are better using animated zombies/skeletons for much more useful things like cleaning, or getting you stuff because you can't be bothered to get out of your seat and such. And people tend to get more upset about using dead bodies for stuff for some reason, which is a bit silly really, because it's perfectly okay to make some dead tree's carcus into something to sit on and nobody ever thinks about what the trees think about that, do they? Which is just plantist, if you think about it. I mean, if it's unwilling soul-binding, you can sort of understand, 'cos that's like slavery, but if it's just a negative energy powered mindless animated Undead, it's just a body, it's not like granny or little Timmy are USING it at the time, they've gone off to whichever bit of whichever afterlife, it's just a big chunk of smelly organics... But no, they'd rather it just be wasted rotting away instead of being useful, like saving time and effort for the busy Lich or I dunno, maybe being a seeing-eye zombie or something, which would be really good, because they wouldn't need any feeding or anything and they'd be quiter if a bit smelly and you could take them more easily to the shops or something. Actually, maybe seeing eye skeletons would be better, 'cos they wouldn't be as smelly... Well, probably seeing eyesocket, of course, since most animated skeletons don't have eyeglows like Liches do, but you get the idea and I think I had a point somewhere when I started, but now I have no idea what it was...
I'm sorry, my usual forum ponythread has been down for a whole week and in the lack of place to vent and rant insanely like I normally do, I think I may have gone a touch peculiar.
4159345
?
...
Well, that's a thing I have now seen that I had never previously seen.
Hold on, I have to figure out what box to check off on my 'things I have seen' list.
...this might take a while.
4159426 I've seen it before, just usually when I expect it. Shocked me too when I first read it.
You had me at "Lyra is a necromancer."
You just can't go wrong with a comedy-adventure story about a good necromancer.
4159345 Necromancy is overrated, organic tissue reviving nanobots are the future.
I'd say something about this fic being absolutely amazing, but I think the 30:0 rating speaks for itself.
4159345 Not sure what's up with all the downvotes
This was a brilliant rant
Necromancy is awesome as fuck. Why? Just because. Summoning minions to do your bidding, allowing yourself to be both badass and cowardly at the same time: it's a match made in heaven! The world needs more necromancy, I say, more!
And for that reason, the author should keep writing this.
4161509 Lyra doesn't do the whole 'binding to her will' thing. Reasons this should be explained in the next chapter.
4161625 I was under no illusion that she did.
I was merely speaking of necromancy in general and the reanimation of corpses—not so much the contacting of souls. That is to say, "minion" was meant as "reanimated corpse", not "reanimated person." I've had a deeply rooted love for necromancers, you see, ever since my childhood where I played Diablo II as a necromancer. Truly, truly great times.
Joy! A story with romance in it that doesn't have a romance tag!
4163140 The romance is part of the story, but it's not the focus of it.
4163181
THANK YOU! For the love of Celestia! I'm so sick and tired of seeing a romance tag when that's not part of the focus of the story. Just because it HAS romance in the story doesn't warrant a romance tag.
This is relevant to my interests. I love seeing villain stereotype roles filled by nice people.
This was fantastic. I look forward to seeing more!
I find the idea interesting.
Nice keep it up!
Pretty well written and definitely fun idea... but the author has a history of dropping fics... I want to get invested in this story but am worried to, you planning on updating the story every now and then and not eventually just dropping it Absol?
4167920 I've only dropped two fics. Tbe others are just taking a while to write.
4168030 None of your incomplete stories have been updated in over 4 months, you can understand why I feel iffy, right? However, if you plan to keep going on this one I'll gladly stick around.
4168247 I'm sorry, I'm a slow writer with very little free time. I'm going to at least try to get better. I can't force you to stay, though. That's your choice.
4168289 No need to apologize, I'll take your word for it.
Before even reading the first chapter, I hate to say I found a mistake:
Should be "make"
Anyway, the story itself doesn't have any dislikes at the time of writing this, so I'm going to assume this is a one-off and continue reading. Wish me luck!
Been kicking the meta for this around in my head. It's really hard for me to handle most AU stories, just because they tend to have a bunch of things tacked on/altered from the base canon. The ones I tend to like are those I can at least headcanon down to being one or two pivotal differences from the original material.
Now I have such a canon of head for this one. Will be interesting to see if it pans out.
I like this intro!
Now it just needs a plot!
...
You do have a plot, right?
It's not just going to be random events with Lyra being a necromancer, right??
Right???
4169978 The second chapter will hint at the plot
I believe you forgot your fullstop.
Interesting take on how ponies would react to Necromancy as well as introducing other... should I say classes or jobs? Meh, so far being a Paladin seems more like an occupation in this case. I would say I'm surprised that so far no ponies had reported about a Necromancer walking about but then again, it is the first chapter, I would like to read on and see how you will handle this situation and where it will go.
Aside from that, I can already imagine one conflict being a stable of this kind of scenario; Moral Choices. Heck, Radical Groups might even be introduced in this story for as far as I know but even if it is expected, it's another matter entirely should it be pulled off well.
I look forward to reading more of this soon
4179975
I like ponies, motherfucker.
Now what?
btw, great story, I'd like to see it continue.
4179975
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4180063 Now, I like it. And fav it
Vell... that seems quite interesting. Do continue.
Drunk pony is best Lyra!
4172571 I'm wondering, what their cutiemarks mean in this universe, For Lyra I would guess something along the lines of Orpheus, but with Bon Bon and her bow ties, bonbons or whatever those are, I'm drawing blanks.
4182967 Jobs and talents need not be related. Good idea regarding Lyra, though.
You need to work on your summary. I almost didn't read this because it was a bit sloppy, and had a couple gramatical errors. I like this story, and am faving it, but still. The summmary could be cleaned up.
4184071 I can't write a good summary... or titles. I outsourced both of them.
4184095 Then how are you supposed to get better?
You practice. Don't out-source anything except for the cover art. Just... trust yourself. A simple summary from yourself will be WAY better than a summary from someone else.
Concept kind of reminds me of the story of Anita Blake, a sort of detective who raised the dead for a living to help with posthumous legal matters.
At least until it turned into a trashy love triangle series which ruined large swaths of it.
The books, not your story. 
4184513 I'll certainly try to avoid love triangles, just to be sure.
4184671 Hehe, sounds like a plan. :3
This, yes. Yes. More yes, very many yes, ALL of the yes!
This, I want more. Please oh please don't let this be one of those amazing first chapters that never goes on.
Necromancy. Lyra. Interesting setting. All of my favorite things.
Yes.
4161625
4172571
More chapters. Yes.
4186647
4186652
I think this gentleperson wishes for more chapters.
Seconded.