An apprentice cleric is about to be elevated to journeyman status. Their mentor goes to teach them the song of death. The melody which ends a life gently, and eases the dying into the next world. The apprentice is appalled that such a song exists, but there is a reason it can only be used on those who are at the edge of death and in pain. The journeyman has to sooth the apprentice, this is one of the hardest lessons among many. -- Anon Guest
Hannalore stared at the page as hir heart and stomach fell all the way to the planet's core and the hells beyond. "This... this is the song that kills people."
Maestre Thistle sighed and prevented Hannalore from tearing it to pieces. "This is the song that eases a soul into the next world. It is a necessity when there is nothing else to be done." She could see the argument forming on Hannalore's lips. "We cannot cure old age. We cannot heal a chronic illness that causes a life of endless agony. When a baby is born with their heart in the wrong place and their innards tied in knots, or with their brains outside of their skull... sometimes the only choice is an end without pain."
Hannalore was a good student. Ze had the best empathy, the most sympathy, and the greatest skill at returning health to an ailing body. Ze surrendered the written song to hir teacher. "But... killing them?
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