[Flashback] What Lives in the Shadows (Zeal)

[Auldwin]

50th of Winter, 510 AV Auldwin had waited until the night had crept across all of the sky, and even past then. The stars shown beautifully above in the cold winter sky. They radiated their faint light upon all those below. All those except for Auldwin. Ignored, that's what he was. Ignored by the Gods. Even ignored by the stars above. What a fate. A fate that could have been avoided. A fate caused by... Him The Ghost stared down at the sleeping man beneath him. He couldn't help but think about how easy it could have been. With a little effort, he could have set the entire tent on fire. Maybe Zeal would die in that fire? Maybe he'd live on, just to be horribly disfigured? Both options didn't seem all that bad. It had been quite the trying time, attempting to get Zeal to recognize his destiny. He was one of the few that were touched with the power to effect the Spirits. It was infuriating how much Auldwin needed him, and how much he just wanted him gone. "Tonight you're going to make your choice..." Auldwin whispered into the air, a small knife hovering just next to him. He'd learned a thing or two in the years. He wasn't limited by his Human shadow anymore. The Soulmist that became him was an extension that could be lengthened and shortened at will. It could carry things, like that knife. It could throw things with a startling power, easily enough to kill a man. Slowly he floated down behind Zeal's head, whispering to him while that Knife hovered a few feet away, poised. Waiting. "Zeal. Wake you and receive your judgement. Open your eyes, and meet vengeance. Lament your choices, and your inability to do anything."

[Zeal Aldercraft]

His mother laughed. The sound echoed through the entire tent. Warmth seeped into the room as much from her smile as from the fires behind him. They were sitting around the table finishing their evening meal and Zeal had just finished telling her that she was the best cook in all of Endrykas. He meant it; she was gifted. It wasn’t only that her food tasted so good, it was the way she could soothe people’s souls with it. He shook his head. “You’ve helped more people than you know, mother. What you do is as special as the healing our Ankal does.”

A red stain spread across her cheeks, her gaze flitted to the floor, but her smile remained. She leaned in and squeezed him gently with calloused fingers. The lines in her hands matched the ones springing up around his father’s mouth; both looked deeply carved in the flickering candlelight.

His father beamed when anyone talked about his mother. Tonight was no exception. He sat next to her, taking in every move she made, completely oblivious to the fact that the rest of them could see it. It was obvious that every breath he took was for her. The Ankal’s soft spot was making Zeal’s stomach turn tonight. The way they kept looking at each other over dinner made him more uneasy than watching his bitches give birth.

He cleared his throat, stood up and excused himself with a clanking of dishes by the wash pot. His parents laughed in unison and he found that to be even creepier than the day his mother got sick and spoke in strange ways. He shoved a hand through his knotted hair in an attempt to distract himself from the uneasy feeling that was crawling into his gut. That was the first time he'd thought about that day since she'd gotten better as suddenly as she'd gotten sick.

He flashed them a smile he didn’t feel and took Vanya to his sleeping room. As she pushed in behind him, he closed the flap, blocking out any noises they might make out there. Zeal hung an extra blanket over the flap, just in case. He wasn’t sure it would do much good. If anything got through the soundproof walls, he didn’t really know what a blanket was going to do, but it made him feel better, so he did it.

Once it was secured, he flipped over the hourglass, stripped out of his leather gloves and threw his white cotton shirt over the chair next to his bed, then he laid down on the cot. Vanya sat by his bedside, staring at him. With a sigh, he patted the bed. She jumped up, almost pushing him out, curled up at his feet and rested her head on her paws. At least one of them would get some rest.

He closed his eyes, but the unease that had settled in followed him into his dreams...tossing and turning until finally, a voice commanded him to wake. Thinking it was Rikkar waking him for a game, he opened his eyes again.

[Auldwin]

And when he opened them he saw, that. Something floated over him, it's shape was not well defined, but eventually as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see it, a lengthy shape with an edge. It was...a knife? It swished through the air, levitating eerily all by itself. Auldwin's control was becoming much better, he had to remark to himself such a thing as an almost unachievable tendril of his Soulmist was extended from his main body, wrapped about that knife. It moved it, controlled it, almost like a hand would have in life. The knife sailed toward Zeal and buried itself right into his cot before sliding rearward toward the man's feat. "Hahahaha! Zeal, it's been a long time! I'm going to take my time cutting you to ribbons." Auldwin cackled, his misty form shuddering with the prospect of some closure in his death. If Zeal turned to look at the voice he would see Auldwin directly for the first time. The man's faded form, translucent and blurred. More strict shapes turned into a smoky trail as they moved toward his back, his Soulmist pouring out around him like the ash and smoke from a bonfire. "Now we'll see if we can awaken that talent, Zeal. Or you'll die trying." the Ghost thought to himself, drawing the knife back before Blinking out from behind Zeal, only to re-appear where his feet would have been upon his cot. Now Auldwin was holding the knife in his spectral hand, although there was no necessity in doing so. He didn't even need to touch objects with his ethereal self anymore, he just had to control that Soulmist. Still, there was something more personal when he was holding it. Slowly Auldwin's form became more and more opaque as he concentrated on Materializing himself. The jacket he wore, his pants, his boots began to take shape from the smoke of Soulmist radiating from his body. The scruff of his mustache and beard were more easily viewed. Those dark eyes he had, the same as they were when he was alive. "Remember me now, Zeal? It's regretful that I cannot duplicate the feeling of what it was like to have a Glassbeak rip me apart and gift it to you, but I won't regret my lack of trying!" his echoed voice snarled at the man as he threw that knife toward him with the hurl ability. Zeal needed to think quickly, or become perforated by the vengeful Ghost.

[Zeal Aldercraft]

The knife hovering at his head couldn’t be real. Zeal wiped the sleep out of his groggy eyes and tried to blink away the dream, but blinking made it worse. His eyes came into focus and he could clearly see the blade of the knife pointed at him.

Vanya stirred at his feet and growled into the darkness. There was a foul smell in the room, like eggs had been left to rot where he slept, but there was no time for him to react to anything before the knife went sailing into the cot. He scrambled toward the back of it, away from the sharp blade and almost tumbled off the bed, onto the floor. The knife changed direction, aimed for his feet and slid toward them with purpose. Vanya's growls intensified.

The knife was faster than Zeal. He got his feet out of the way in time, but his calf wasn’t so lucky. It caught him at an awkward angle, and sliced across, instead of stabbing into him. He roared with pain into the soundproof room and kicked the knife away with his other foot when it finally stilled. It was quiet, except for Vanya, as he stared into the darkness trying to make out what was going on. A chill had crept into the room. He couldn’t see what the deerstalker was barking at. His mind tried to rationalize the presence of an intruder, but there was no one his eyes could see.

This was no dream.

Underneath the pain and the fear, was that sense of unease. He’d felt it before, didn’t like when he had, and tried to bury the memory again. Warm blood seeped from the gash on his calf; his pant leg was soaking through with it and he couldn’t see the wound for himself to tell how bad it was.

The temperature dropped another notch as a muffled sound came from the darkness. The man’s voice wavered, but Zeal heard his name clearly as well as the threat that had been uttered with it. He stared into the emptiness and it began to take shape. Faded, but slowly coming into focus was the form of a man, around him, tendrils of smoke swirled around the blurred edges of his body and disappeared into the air. His stomach dropped. It was a Ghost.

As the thought solidified in his mind, the Ghost disappeared. Although he couldn’t see it, he could feel it. It was still there...somewhere.

Knowing that didn’t ease the shock of it reappearing at the edge of his bed with a knife in its hand.

No one would hear him scream if the Ghost decided to hack into him. Vanya had been growling since the Ghost first appeared and no one had stirred. His only defense against it was Soulmist he’d never even tried to make and whatever the Ankal kept of his own, was hidden away. He was defenseless.

[Auldwin]

The Ghost laughed, long and loud. The ethereal sound of his voice roaring through the darkness, his head tipping back to allow that sound to flow out further and further from it's base. Of course in the end it simply came from his direction, he didn't have a mouth to project sound from anymore. He didn't have anything anymore. Nothing except that Soulmist and his intentions, and that knife. With a flicker his finger moved forward and touched the edge of that knife, wiping some of Zeal's blood from it's edge. It sat there in the air, somehow caught up by Auldwin's Soulmist before dripping down onto the floor. "We're going to have some fun tonight! The options are limitless. In a way, I must thank you, without you I would have never experienced emotions of this magnitude. Perhaps all that flesh and blood was just getting in the way? Acting like some kind of buffer in the way of the truth?" The Ghost suddenly lashed out with a tendril, right into Zeal's forehead. It was like electricity flowing directly into his skin. It was uncomfortable in a way that could not be easily described. The sensation upon the skin of the living was only something you could experience to understand. Their contact was very important however, it was the initiative of Auldwin's next stage. To find out just what kind of willpower this Zeal had inside of him. "Tonight you will experience what I had. You will take your own life. Or...perhaps I will have you take the life of someone you care about first, before dispatching yourself." the Ghost mused. It was all a great lie. Auldwin wasn't about to have Zeal harm any of his villagers. Auldwin was lucky enough to retain his humanity, despite the way in which he 'lived' now. Still, he had to make this the worst experience in Zeal's life. It was the only way to show him how important it was to have power over the Spirits and the Soul. "You took my body from me, Zeal! Now give me yours!" the Ghost shouted at him before he turned entirely into mist, moving along that conduit he had anchored into Zeal's forehead. From there, Zeal could feel the blackness attempting to shroud his senses, just like his mother had felt so long ago. It was as if something was beckoning him to sleep. It was Auldwin's Soulmist, latching itself into every crevice of Zeal's body, attempting to wrestle control of it from him. Zeal had to fight now, or lose control completely.

[Zeal Aldercraft]

He could feel the Ghost trying to work its way inside of his mind. It felt like dull blade trying to slice through his hard barrier of protection, tugging and pulling at his soft spots. Zeal’s body suddenly took on a strange, faraway feeling, like he was watching from somewhere inside of himself. It was disconcerting to be so close to what was going on in his mind and yet detached. He’d panicked and knew immediately that fear was his enemy, but he didn’t know if he could calm himself.

Time stood still, his leg ceased throbbing and Vanya went silent. He didn’t know if time had really stopped or if it was him, but the moment of eery clarity with the Ghost’s tendril a breath away from him, was a enough to make him crazy. Before the picture in front of him could come back into focus, a will he didn’t know he had, surged to the surface, overriding the fear that was killing him.

With his will intact, his mind slammed back into his body, and everything happened at once. When he returned to his senses, he found more of the Ghost had worked its way inside of him and was trying to take root. He could feel it slithering towards the cracks, the places in his soul that were empty. Empty places in his soul? That disturbed him almost more than the Ghost.

His temper flashed briefly, setting fire to his need to get the repugnant thing out of his body. The smell with it so close was horrible; now it came from inside him as well. Everywhere the Ghost was, his smell followed. It was bathing Zeal’s insides in stench. He started to struggle; at first, not with his body. As his mind gained strength and began to fight, his body took over and worked on expelling what didn’t belong.

The muscles in his throat worked overtime, sending him into a convulsion. It felt like he couldn’t breathe as his mind realized it was being invaded. He choked, trying to expel the foreign object from his body. Spasms wracked his aching limbs, goose bumps littered his flesh and sweat began to roll down his back. Even though he couldn’t catch his breath, he fought, wrestling the thing out of his spirit.

He wouldn’t give up until it was gone.

[Auldwin]

As Auldwin's mist began to pour into Zeal's body a certain disappointment came over him. Disappointment like a parent watching a child fail at telling the truth, or a Knight observing a young man straying and becoming a criminal. Auldwin had hoped for more. That was all he could think about as the mist outside of Zeal's body began to shrink, all of it's essence moving into Zeal's body. Auldwin did a good job at filling up those cracks, the cracks of the parts that Zeal denied were himself. Those parts like spiritual sensitivity, the same kind his father had. You couldn't buy that, it was the type of thing you were born with. "That's too bad. You'll never know now I suppose, but I was rooting for you, kid." Auldwin commented in his thoughts. The thoughts of a Ghost inhabiting a Spiritist weren't like those when inhabiting a typical person. Spiritists had the potential to share thoughts and feelings, if they focused hard enough, and had a strong enough connection to their respective abilities. "Maybe your sacrifice cou-...w--!?" something clamped down against Auldwin's Soulmist, and it was one of the few times he ever felt some sort of pain in his deathly existence. Even Auldwin had to admit, he had no idea what could happen, he had never attempted to Possess a Spiritist, after all, "...what the..." he had never felt resistance like this before, even when Possessing those that he believed had at least some mental willpower. Now it wasn't just an attempt, Auldwin looked to get into that body simply based upon principle. His Soulmist whipped about Zeal's body, flickering and flashing as parts of it were burned away from the force of the exertion he was delivering toward this particular Possession. "I can't..." Auldwin's will was being rebuked by the power of Zeal's. Was this the desire to stay alive? It made Auldwin wonder, he hadn't even gotten the chance to show such a strong side just before his death. Was this the difference between someone even slightly gifted with Spiritism, compared to a typical person? The internal struggle went on for what seemed like an eternity before dark smoke began to pour from Zeal's mouth and nose, almost like vaporous vomit. No...this time Auldwin was wrong, it seemed Zeal hadn't just given up and forsaken that part of himself. Perhaps sometimes people just needed a little nudge in the right direction? "You...bastard...you think that's enough?!" Auldwin's voice rocked the inside of Zeal's head whenever he spoke, redoubling his efforts he pushed that Mist back into Zeal's body, but it was like trying to battle with quicksand. Auldwin was losing? Zeal was starting to feel the light in his mind reignite when that inky darkness continued to recede. The feeling coming back from the numbness that filled his body. Could it be that victory was right around the corner?

[Zeal Aldercraft]

Zeal’s fits lessened as the clouds of smoke poured out of him, fortifying his urge to dispel it. With every fiber of strength he possessed, he fought to keep himself under control. The hold it had on him was weakening. His mind was returning to his own. With the Ghost’s grip lessening, he could feel its inky tendrils unwinding inside, emptying the cracks and leaving him once again broken, but his own.

He sucked in huge lungfuls of air, refilling his depleted supply of oxygen and launched himself away from the Ghost, towards the door. His leg ached from his wound, but his mind was focused and despite the pain that surged through him, he refused to relent. He drug his leg and headed for the door, hissing for Vanya to follow him. She fell in at his feet, her body an effective shield between him and anything that might decide to bite his ankle, but not much protection against the Ghost who continued to dig at him, trying to get back inside, to take his body over.

Zeal was filled with a new awareness. Something inside of him shifted and was forever altered, or opened. He didn’t examine it too closely, afraid that he might not like the change that was taking place in his mind. He inched towards the exit, slowly…painfully.

The tent flapped wavered behind him, only giving way when he threw his unsteady weight against it, shoving himself through to the other side. He fumbled over his leg and Vanya at his feet, his legs twisted, giving out on him. He hit the ground with an awkward yelp he hoped would wake his Ankal, but he was tortured by an uneasy feeling that his father couldn’t have heard him through the soundproof walls of the tent, so he forced himself upright once again and stood his ground, alone in the hall.

His jaw squared, his voice grated out into the darkness where he knew the Ghost lingered. “I won’t give my body to you without a fight. I can see that your power is fading already. Is this what you want? To possess me at what cost? One of us has to lose and it’s not going to be me.”

Word Count381

[Auldwin]

As Zeal walked parts of his body twitched violently, the Ghost attempting to grab control of whatever he could, no matter how small the piece was. Immediately Auldwin was beginning to realize the futility of it all. To think Zeal had no idea exactly what it was he had inside of him. Not the Ghost, but the potential to be something special. In life Auldwin had no propensity for the mystic arts. He never learned to manipulate his Djed, and he certainly was not spiritually sensitive. If he were though, he could only dream of how the encounter with his own Ghost would have gone that way. With his own mental powers he could have simply willed that dreaded Ghost from his body and regained control of his arms and legs of his own volition.

This was something Zeal was doing now. Several wisps of shadow poured from Zeal's mouth and nose, forming into an arm that attempted to slither back down his throat and into his body. "That's where you're wrong." Auldwin snarled, looking as if he was going to give one last valiant attempt to take the body now linked with his. Instead the power Zeal had over his own movement grew, but not without potentially tiring his physical body. That was the cost of every Possession, the host was usually exhausted from the unnatural and inefficient way their body was used by some outside entity.

Finally all of Auldwin was out, the smoke spilling onto the ground completely and taking the shape of a man, much as it did when Auldwin had met Zeal, knife in hand, just a few moments prior. Something was different however. Auldwin's translucent form looked even more pale then usual, almost as if the color had been washed away, like a painting faded by time and weather. He himself appeared weary from the exertion, if such a thing was even possible as tiring a Ghost out.

His words moved back toward his most previous comment about Zeal being incorrect in his assumption of loss, "Seems you can do it, if you try. I have already lost everything, there is nothing I can lose." he mentioned, his voice seeming somewhat weak and indistinct, even though his body floated just before Zeal, "But you have the things I never had, a chance to develop something rare and valuable. You couldn't help me, but there may be...no, I'm sure there WILL be others. Your ability to overpower spirits...mustn't go to waste. If it did, only then would one of us lose. Perhaps all of mankind has the ability to become something more, with the right motivation. Don't...waste it."

[Lariat]

Auldwin

Experience:

Soulmist Projection: 3 xp
Materialization: 1 xp
Possession: 1 xp

Lores:

Possessing a spiritist, easy in, painful to stay if unwelcome.



Zeal Aldercraft

Experience:

Spiritism: 2 xp

Lores:

Expelling a ghost from your body



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