"Hardly," Solomon disagreed with a slight raise of his eyebrow. "A death is a very public thing. Anyone can witness it. Anyone can ignore it. It lingers in a place and infects its location for years afterward. Everyone shares in death, because death is the ultimate equaliser. There's nothing private about it at all."

Especially when a person was alive again. If they were alive, their soul was somewhere else. There was no need to revere a place, no need to avoid platitudes and socially ingrained affront toward confronting the fact that death existed.

He shrugged gracefully. "I'm a Necromancer. I am, indeed, new. My name is Solomon Wreath. And yourself?"

He didn't bother to bow. The teen, thus far, hadn't even been apologetic about his interruption. At least Hayley had been more polite about it, after her initial shock.