Fall the 71st, 519 AV
Exhaustion. Few people understood that in its entirety, felt that in the very heart of the thing.
Autumn did. She didn’t need sleep, but when she expended her efforts on the world, she needed restoration, rejuvenation. And all night long, she hadn’t had a moment’s rest. Bell by bell, chime by chime, tick by tick, she had shredded herself apart, piece by piece, imbuing the strength of her soul into another body. Every breath she drew for the other tore away another fraction of her soul until finally there was nothing left to give but the end of her existence, and she knew it wouldn’t be enough. She needed more, but she didn’t have it to give.
If she took time, she could regenerate her mist, draw on what was out there in the ether to rebuild her, but time was the one thing she didn’t have. Sure, she had all the time in the world, eternity if she so chose, but Candace did not. Autumn needed something that would replenish her mist in a moment, return to her the strength and effort she had given away, just so she could give it away again. There was only way she knew of and only person who could do that, and she didn’t like the option.
But desperate times called for desperate measures, and so she hovered at the doorstep of the home of the person who terrified her most in this world, someone who could destroy her easily, someone who Autumn was certain wanted to wipe her from the fragile existence she was clinging to. Summoning what was left of the tiny fragment of her soul, Autumn pleaded with it to materialize her form. It didn’t want to. It was broken. She was broken. So when it didn’t respond to her begging, she drew on what strength she had and demanded it. Every portion of her was poured into this one action, but there was nothing left of her to give. Weakly, exhausted, she hovered in the air, nothing more than a hint of blue where one eye should have been and a shiver of the air that was there but not. Even if someone looked, they wouldn’t see her.
But the house didn’t need to see her. It could sense her, and it wasn’t pleased to see her. If anything, their first meeting had been less than pleasant. Neither had attacked the other, but Autumn had come following Madeira with an exhilarating malice bubbling out of her soul. The house had sensed that and had been certain to make her feel unwelcome. Today, it was making certain to return that malice in full. An overwhelming sense of impending doom pulsated from the building, but Autumn was too tired and too desperate for fear.
Her voice was barely more than a whisper. It was all she could coax from her soul and the air around her, but the defeated voice that emanated from the nothingness was enough to reach the house. “I’m not here to fight, House.” She didn’t know what else to call it. “I come bearing an olive branch. I want peace.”
A sudden increase in the hatred from the house said it didn’t believe her.
“I need help. Believe me, this was the last place I wanted to turn for it, but desperate times…”
There was no change for a moment, and Autumn felt certain the house wouldn’t hear her out, wouldn’t care what she said. For a few valuable ticks, the world seemed to hold its breath, then let it out in a collective sigh as the hate and malice stemmed itself. It didn’t leave completely, but it lessened enough that the air surrounding Autumn’s little soul felt less oppressive.
“Please. I don’t have time to spare. I need to speak with your mistress. Can you let Madeira know I’m here?”
Its anger had finally settled enough that it could sense the many things wrong with the spirit before it. Desperation was evident enough as well as the shred of hope that tottered on the edge of hopelessness, but perhaps the most noticeable oddity in the ghost was a weariness that bordered on emptiness, nothingness. It seemed that a simple forgetfulness would snuff her out of existence. The malice withdrew suddenly, and though it didn’t invite her in, it did welcome her closer. She could only hope House was bringing Madeira and bringing her quickly.