Covered in Ashes (Solo)

[Aello]

Timestamp: Spring 12, 512 AV Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Dark powder slipped through her fingers. It was frail. Ticklish. Soft. Not at all like when the sands of time slipped through the cracks. The coarse edges of chipped shells and cracked pebbles gliding past smooth flesh. Trickling down, like a rain, or waterfall cascading over the thick, warm, gathered air. She could scarcely hear the soft hiss of it, as it tumbled down, to the puddle of black by her feet. Dried now, by the sun, after the recent storm. The scent of it lingered, in the air. Even as the dark cloud drifted away. It was so soft, so delicate. Offering a hint of the time long past. The smell of the fire- smoke, charred wood and skin. Flesh. Burning flesh, dripping off the ends of curling bone. Ivory singed with the heat. It washed over her senses, even long before she had closed her eyes and images of the day fluttered past. Like the soft wings of a butterfly, gliding on the wind. She could see it all, sense it all in that moment, as the gentle breeze rustled the fallen bits. The shards of split wood. Darkened now, with seasons past, yet worn too, about the edges. So very frayed, to accompany the nature of the fallen house. The simple cottage; but a frame now, dotting an otherwise empty space, close to the sea; and the nearby wood. Fallen beams strewn across the dust, and everything else still left. Seemingly untouched, over the course of time. Yet anyone who knew what had once been could tell, that much had been stripped away. Looted perhaps, although unlikely. Tossed about by the elements, completely torn away, more like. Most of Aello's things rested outside on the grass. The delicate fronds circling them all, as they would hold the dead to their breasts; burying them beneath the deepened edges, long ago gone brown with the cold, and excessive rain. The harsh winter winds; and stormy remnants. Even so, past the splayed edges, split down the center, growing ragged and charred there were dots now. Speckles of green. Bursts of life; soon flattened beneath the weight of the world, and that which the aurist added too. Her things sat in silent vigil, idly watching from that fateful spot, mere paces from where the world had gone black, all those moons ago. When smoke overtook the sky, and flame swallowed all. They couldn't sense it now, the death that hung in the air. The memories of smoke as the world was shrouded in the darkest of clouds. But it didn't matter. Aello remembered. She remembered far more than enough for all of them. Again, Aello pressed her palms into the floorboards, into the small mounds of gathered black and grey powder that had formed over the years. The particles dusted her fingertips as they furled. Drawing lines in what had once been. She could feel it sinking in all the more now. The pain, as her heartstrings were pulled. Manipulated as though she were little more than a marionette within the hands of a skilled puppeteer. A man whose hands dripped warm crimson, onto her toes, as her heart drummed uncontrollably. A simple song, that seemed so solemn, so final. She could sense it pooling as her sorrow gathered, as she fought away the impending wave of tears. Imminence dwelling within as moisture overcame the whites. Widening the winding red rivers, as dirt made way for mud and coal. Darkened pits. Everything stemmed from those dark places, and fell back into them. Yet, everything fell away, as the world became glassy. Cast behind a strange sort of fog; one which refused to relent, no matter how hard one rubbed, or tried to blink it away. It all began here, didn't it? Aello asked herself as she wiped her stained palms on her knees. Forcing her flesh into the folds. Such a pure white; turning to grey. Becoming as musty and uncertain as her surroundings. As relentlessly dark and cold. As desolate. Long forgotten; lingering. She wondered if she'd ever get the mark out. The memory to wash away completely. Especially now, that she had come back to see what once had been. Simply to remind herself it seemed. No, torment herself. Remember the fallen? Remember the dead? She couldn't quite place her finger on the reason. Couldn't quite imagine why she'd drudge this all up, here now. Couldn't imagine why she'd do this to herself. Force herself through endless waves of excruciating mental pain. And it all ended here too, didn't it?

[Aello]

The winds awoke. Called to the aurist by her tears. The ashes danced; circling Aello like it were a hungry hurricane, waiting to strike. Everything was doused in its ethereal sheet, as it swept across the world, scattering, like fallen leaves. Moving as silently as that, save for the occasional drag cast by those burdened with clear beads. Why are you crying? Why are you crying? Don't cry... they whispered. Aello looked up, startled by the softness of the sound. The way it seemed to whisper, and glide over her, as though it were non-existent. A figment of her imagination, and nothing more. Don't cry, it came again, as it crept over her. Curling up in her lap; coiling, before it slithered up the length of her delicate form. Towards her ears. Licking them seductively as it fluttered across her lips, across her cheeks. Wiping away all moisture that had gathered there. Clotting; as it dripped away. Don't... cry... "Who's there?" Aello whispered, as she blinked a few times, washing some of her muddied tears away. Letting them creep across her skin. Draw the earth to her, before boring everything away. She felt a child speckled with wet sand. Buried beneath the weight of it all; losing her castle, losing her fantasy of simplicity. The perfect world, the perfect life. Buried beneath the weight of losing it all. She felt as though she were losing her mind, forcing herself to remember. Thinking someone were talking to her now, when no one but she, seemed to be around. As far as she was concerned, no one was around. "Are you hiding somewhere? Past the bones of this place? The hollowed ribs?" Why are you crying? Don't cry. Don't cry... "Who are you?" Aello whispered as the winds faded, sweeping the ashes away. From them rose vapors. Tendrils of white, which seemed to waver. But the girl would not notice. She wouldn't so much as sense the presence of their source as she stared down at the ground. As the mist strengthened, and molded, gaseous and largely unwilling to change as it was, into something else. Forming curves. Wisps, waves; like sea foam crashing against the shore. Bubbling, bursting with life and intensity, before fading away. The mist formed garments, soft features; sharper ones. Some so uncertain of themselves, that it was as though they weren't there at all. Yet, the eyes seemed so distinct. So much darker, than in life. Filled with everything contained in those last moments. Drawn into an infinitesimal speck, in the pupil's center. A glimmer, mysterious, nearly lost, yet so startlingly apparent. Slender, white fingers came forth, and curled beneath the girl's chin, lifting her gaze into the ghost's eyes. Even past the moisture, she could see. They grew wide, startled. Feeling as though this were no more than a cruel illusion cast by her mind. "Mom?" Aello whispered. The ghost nodded. "It's time to get up again," Myrrh whispered, the edges of her form flickering, as her center, her simple dress, adorned with a frilly white apron, coming to light. "Onto your feet Aello. As is only proper," she added, with a small smile, as her fingers tickled the underside of her daughter's chin. "Mom..." Aello whispered, incredulously, as she rose to her feet, soon realizing, that she had never gone back. Myrrh simply smiled as she glided around her daughter's form, settling behind her back. She seemed such a strong ghost to her girl, and yet, so very weak, and unsure of herself. Aello could sense her cool air as she came to a rest, and her fingers came to cradle her chin, her other hand, the girl's forehead, as though she were taking a temperature. "You're so cold," she added, as her mother pulled her into her chest, and rested her chin upon the aurist's thick mane of dark brown hair. "So very cold." There was a pause, as the scent of roses reached the girl's nostrils. Faint, and fading. Fleeting, as though they had withered and died long ago. Were crumbling away with everything else. Her will to forget; her desire to remember. The remnants of what once was. "Did you miss me?" Myrrh asked, as Aello's back sank into her embrace, along with everything else. Her inhibition. Her desires. Her need to be loved. For although her touch was cool, as was that of every other ghost, Aello could feel her again. As though she were still alive. It felt as though her mother's core was still warm, from the heat of the oven. From the blood that flowed in her veins. Her flesh felt soft, as though she had just been massaged, and oils had been worked into her skin. Her fingernails tickled, sending small tremors up the length of Aello's spine, even long before she kissed her daughter's forehead. Even before her lips pulled away, allowing only her gaze to linger, as she rocked the girl lightly in her arms. The girl who was amazed that they could somehow, be together again. Almost in the flesh. Almost... "Of course mother. I have missed you so," Aello replied, as her head rocked onto her mother's shoulder. Settling there as her hair splayed angrily by her sides. "You don't know the half of it... but, what of you? Of Leon? Have you been here the whole time, with him?" Myrrh shook her head. "No, only for a time. We tend to go where you go, but sometimes, we just stay here, together. Waiting for you to come back." Aello said nothing for a time. "He came to me a few seasons back. My little brother. He seemed well, if not a little haunted, like all of your kind... you don't... know now that I can help you? Go back. Move on. Give you more mist." Myrrh chuckled. "Do you want any mum, are you hungry?" Myrrh chuckled as she shook her head, waving her daughters thoughts and concerns away as she kissed her forehead again. It was just like old times. Like they really were together again. Almost...

[Aello]

"Mum?" Aello questioned, as Myrrh pulled her lips away, prompting a low, rumbling mhm to escape the ghost's mouth. "Why didn't you come earlier? To see me? Why didn't you expose yourself as Leon did?" she asked. Myrrh shook her head lightly. "At times we weren't strong enough to show," she replied. "At other times it didn't seem right, and at other times, perhaps I wasn't there, busy looking for other people." Aello's brow furrowed. "Is that why you haven't gone back then, you're busy looking?" Her mother nodded, "in part." Aello looked up at her, her lips parted a little, expecting more. She seemed to be saying, and what's the rest of it then? For a long time, the ghost remained silent, simply rocking her daughter in her arms, as she might have done when she were little more than a small child. "Leon and I chose to look after you. After the fire, until you joined us." "But you know that I've been well. You've spoken to me now, seen that. Why not simply return to the cycle now?" Aello asked. "Return your life, and this world to a greater state of balance." "It isn't time yet darling," Myrrh commented, as she ran her hand through her daughter's hair. Pulling apart the strands. "Not until I've seen him again." "Seen who?" Aello inquired. "Your father," Myrrh replied, as she raised her hand again to run it through Aello's hair, the young spiritist grew rigid. Her muscles tensed, as her eyes took on many things. Pain. Fear. Confusion. Surprise. Disbelief even. Her brow furrowed as she turned away from her. As her gaze hardened as she forced her mother to look at her directly, in the eyes. "What do you mean?" Aello asked. "He isn't with you?" Myrrh shook her head. "And if he's not with Leon... you don't think he returned without us? Thinking we too had died in that fire. All of us... I mean." Myrrh shook her head. "I don't know baby." A chill shot up Aello's spine as she took a half step back. She glanced down at the ground, just as her mother raised her hand again to comfort her. She was flickering. Fading away. The wind picked up again, tossing the ashes about them both. They seemed to circle hungrily. "Mom..." The ghost flickered. Flickered, like a candle in the wind. Her light was going out. All the lights were going out. "Mom, don't go!" Aello called, as she looked up again, as she raised her hand and reached for her mother's fingers. They brushed for an instant. One fleeting, cool instant. "Please don't go! I can make the mist! Don't go! I can do it... make the mist..." she pleaded, as the ghost vanished, and every trace of her faded away, as the ashes fell. Aello crumbled. Her knees hitting the ground hard. Rustling the ashes. Displacing them. "I can do it now..."

[Echelon]

Adventurer's Loot A Gift Experience is it's own reward. Aello's Loot : Aello Skill XP Reward Interrogation +1XP Investigation +1XP Lore: Mother's Search, Returning to Ashes, Ghost's Touch Items or Consequences: None Notes: I skimmed your Lores and saw some on seeing hearing ghosts etc but nothing on touch. If I missed it go ahead and omit the Ghost's Touch Lore if you would like. (That was fun to read, too bad it wasn't longer.) - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.