Those are a lot of words that don't necessarily mean anything to Palamedes, at least not immediately. She could be a kind of necromancer, she could be something closer to the Emperor, who is sometimes called the Kindly Prince of Death. Or, as is the case with so many of the beings on the Serena Eterna, she might have no parallel in his own universe at all.

"Reaper," he says, talking half to himself. "One who harvests grain, usually wheat, a task traditionally done with a scythe. You're either an assassin or some sort of being who plays a role in the act of death itself. Severing the soul from the body, perhaps?"

He blinks, belatedly realizing that she asked a question of her own. "Oh, I'm just a necromancer. Genetic predisposition gives me the aptitude to manipulate thanergy and thalergy, or death energy and life energy." A wry smile. "Frankly, I don't know how I feel about the idea that death is embracing me, but that's probably what you're picking up on."