Leland wished he hadn't said it aloud. Or perhaps he wished he hadn't said it to Sibyla. He was looking at her when her expression shifted, and he swallowed hard again. He closed his eyes at the thought of even trying to tap that power he never used, even if he was hoping for and end result of something positive. "It's...not a talent I truly understand either, despite it being my own," Leland admitted reluctantly.
Which was part of the problem. Leland didn't know the depths of his necromancy. He didn't know if it was strong or barely there. He didn't know what he could use it for beyond raising the dead, because he'd put up a wall around his mind where it came to it. It was almost as though he refused to even admit he had it at all. "I haven't used it. I do not even know if it's been corrupted as my healing has." And he wouldn't know unless he tried. If it was possible, he had to try, didn't he? The end result could be healing this terrible plague. But first he had to get past his block.