It was proving to be a long, dull day of waiting. With her recent revelation of her presence to Gweneveh, the two had held many long talks when the prostitute wasn’t working. To call it a revelation was a misnomer. Gweneveh was astute. She had been aware of Autumn since the beginning, or close to. Still, it was Autumn extending this sign of trust that was the beginning of any true relationship the women had other than cohabitation, and friendship blossomed quickly.
Autumn didn’t like that expression. Things that blossomed also died and usually quickly after the blossoming. Their friendship…
Autumn struggled to come up with a word that did it justice. A well dug deep and now over brimming with the fruits of that effort? No. Too cheesy. A cancer that had begun before they knew it and now was in every part of them? Too dark.
Autumn decided to leave it at what it was and let it speak for itself. It was friendship. A friendship between the living and the dead. Neither had known the other, but each had done what they could to make the other’s life a little better. Autumn had done her best to keep Gweneveh’s room cool in the oddly hot autumn while Gweneveh had not sought to remove the spirit from her residence. In fact, Gweneveh had tried to protect Autumn’s few remaining possessions. It hadn’t worked out, and now, Autumn’s book of fairytales had been held hostage for over a full season. Not to mention, it was winter, and Autumn’s occasional mood swings left the already cold season even colder.
But they were getting along. Which always made it rough on Autumn when Gweneveh slipped out for the day. For seasons now, Autumn had been entertaining herself, but now that she had the company of someone else again, she didn’t know what to do when those individuals were unavailable.
Today, she was trying to keep busy with cleaning the room. The sort of cleaning she could do was nothing helpful. It was just an excuse to practice her projection. She could barely move anything with the potency of her mist in this aspect, so she focused a projected area near the tip of one materialized finger and pushed a stray strand of Gweneveh’s hair off of her pillow. The stubborn hair kept catching on the fabric of the pillowcase and falling away from Autumn’s projected mist, forcing the ghost to start over again and again and again by willing her mist to form another flat disc of mist that could press outward against the physical world. Finally, the strand made it to the edge of the pillow, and Autumn lifted it free until it was far away from the bed, releasing it to fall to the floor.
She was about to start again when the door to Gweneveh’s room opened. Autumn dematerialized, only to realize it was her roommate and materialize again. Autumn’s bright blue eyes met Gweneveh’s.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
Gweneveh beamed a smile back at her. “‘Good morning’ yourself. It’s midafternoon.”
“Sorry. I lose track of time.”
“You have more of it than most. It makes you forget how precious it is.”
Gweneveh was sometimes too astute for her own good. Autumn ignored her friend’s wisdom and, instead, moved on to the more pressing matter at the moment, at least in her mind. “Where were you?”
Gweneveh laughed. “Autumn, are you getting jealous?”
A lifetime of experience in this world still hadn’t given Autumn what she needed to cope with flirting. She was speechless.
Gweneveh laughed again. “I only jest. I was out with the most remarkable woman.”
“Remarkable?”
“Not that way. A lady doesn’t kiss and tell. She’s remarkable in the things she does. She’s a fortune teller.”
“Oh.” Autumn couldn’t help the roll of the eyes that came afterward. “A fortune teller.”
It wasn’t often that Gweneveh got defensive over the things she did, the choices she made, but this she pressed. “Trust me. This one isn’t a con artist. She told me everything I wanted to hear.”
“That’s how they make their money. They read you and tell you something about yourself that you gave away.”
“You’re too cynical, Autumn. What she said was true. I asked her about what my future held, for me and my love life. Do you know what she told me? That I would die, never married and alone, at least as far as lovers go.”
That was something that stunned Autumn. “How could that be what you wanted to hear?”
Gweneveh removed the coat she had gone out in, draping it over the back of the chair at her dresser, and watched Autumn through the mirror there as she talked to the ghost. “Because love isn’t real. At least not romantic love. People play at it, pretend and trick themselves into believing it’s real, but in the end, it is all driven by lust. And once the lust wears off, they realize that was all there was to it. And then they leave each other. Or worse, they’ve had children together and find themselves stuck living a life they only had thought they wanted.
“If I die alone and unmarried, that means I will not’ve fallen for that lie. I’m happy enough to be clever and alone. But I won’t be. She said when I go, I will be surrounded by friends. At least, that was how I interpreted things.”
As clever and brilliant as Autumn thought Gweneveh was, it still stunned her that her friend put any stock in the ramblings of fortune tellers. Her skeptical stare said so.
Gweneveh sat down, removing her winter hat and letting her long hair spill loose behind her. Turning and leaning over the back of the chair, she met Autumn’s eyes. “Her name’s Dev’Ania. You should go to her, see what she has to say.”
“About what? My life?”
“You are fate-touched.”
Autumn smirked at that.
Gweneveh’s smile softened sadly for her friend. “It’s sad that someone who has lived as long as you can’t see that. You think all that experience would have brought you wisdom. You are fate-touched. How else would you have made it this long?”
“I’m stubborn. Fate has nothing to do with it. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn that fate has nothing to do with it. Anything that could be controlled and led by fate instead unravels and falls apart.”
“You could have been wise, but instead you played the fool. That’s good, though. Fortune favors your kind.” Stopping, Gweneveh dug into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a small purse of coins. She started to rummage through them. “Here, take my money and go find out for yourself.”
Autumn shook her head. “Keep your coin, Gweneveh. If I’m really touched by fate, as you claim, then an opportunity will present itself for my fortune to be revealed. Besides, I couldn’t carry the coins anyhow. I’m not strong enough.”
Gweneveh’s eyes narrowed. “Just because you don’t believe, doesn’t mean you have to be an ass to those who do. Go and talk to her. She’s on Shinyama Peak, one to the west. A little shop called Nine Lives. She’ll change your mind.”
Autumn’s eyes narrowed in return. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Actually, yes. I have a regular coming shortly.” Gweneveh raised her eyebrows. “You’re more than welcome to stay, but something tells me that’s not your thing.”
Grumbling, Autumn twisted and disappeared, blinking through the walls into the snowy outdoors. There were small flakes drifting down from the sky, and the people that Autumn passed on her way to find the fortune teller were covered from head to foot in their warmest gear. Some of it looked old and not well looked after. After all, it had been several years since those articles of clothing had been pulled out and put to good use.
Some of the Lhavitians grumbled. Mountaintops were already cold, but drown them in snow and winter, and they only got colder. More of them though were happy for its return. There was hope, hope that things had returned to normal, that Morwen had returned, that the season’s cycle was complete once more. There was an attitude of trust and cordiality between most in the city, a sense of celebration and wonder at what the world was like blanketed in snow.
Autumn herself was brighter than she had been for some time, and every cold flake that lanced through her soul only made her feel warmer. She had friends, Candace and Gweneveh. And little Emma, too, though she wasn’t sure if she could count her fellow ghost. Emma might have been young, but she was smart, smarter than she let on. She didn’t trust Autumn completely yet. And Ennisa. Little made people more friendly than helping them save those they loved. Madeira was a little more complicated, not a friend but not the enemy she had expected either.
In her cheery mood, Autumn danced, spinning in circles as whirls of snow twirled through the air past her. She danced through wintery gust as the danced through her, neither disturbing the other as each danced to a different song, it to the song of winter and she to a song once heard on Black Rock. It was with this music in mind that Autumn reached the bridge and danced through the air beside it until she reached Shinyama peak. It didn’t take her long to find the building as it sat near the bridge with snow gathering on the wooden sign that stated its name, THE NINE LIVES.
It was Autumn’s habit to present herself in as real of a way, in as human of a way, as possible, so she stood outside the door. And hesitated. It took her several ticks to realize that was what she was doing, and she took several more to figure out why. Anticipation ran quick and greedy through her soul. If she had a heart, it would have been racing. Part of her wanted to believe that this was real. The other part was afraid it wouldn’t be and knew the disappointment the former would feel. There was only one way to find out.
Pulling in the loose mist that hung in a cloud around her, she focused her thoughts on it and bent it to her will, bending the light around her to present the visage of her best and most amiable self. The color of her dress was lost in the materialization, but the color of her bright blue eyes was not. She smiled and stepped through the door, only to find the room on the other side empty. Being a ghost, she hadn’t actually opened the door, so there was no way anyone inside would have heard her entrance. The use of the doorway had just been out of some habit formed in life.
A little black kitten slept on a counter nearby, and Autumn made sure not to disturb it. She was about to explore elsewhere when the sound of someone singing came from the room in the back. It was a beautiful voice, perhaps not the attuned voice of a professional but a voice that knew its strengths, but Autumn lost the words of the song through the wall. Not wanting to frighten the fortune teller, Autumn gathered in any swirling mist, so as not to appear angry, then stood in the doorway. With a loose strand of mist, Autumn created a small point of projected bit of her soul and pushed it sharply against the doorframe.
A small knock sounded, and the fortune teller looked up from whatever it was she had been doing. There was no missing the woman for what she was. The pale skin and pale hair with iridescent scaling. She was Konti, one of the blessed daughters of the isle of Mura. But Autumn also knew there was no escaping notice of what she was either. Despite her best efforts at materialization, anyone would be able to tell that she was there without being there, a disembodied soul, a ghost.
In an attempt to prevent any reaction of fear, Autumn put on her best smile, the disarming one. “Please, don’t be startled. A friend sent me to see you. She was just in here earlier. Gweneveh. I’m sure you remember her. One of the prettiest faces on the mountain. You told her fortune, and what you told her brought her relief, made her happy. I think she was hoping you could do the same for me.”
Realizing she hadn’t introduced herself, the ghost dipped a quick curtsey in her materialized dress. “I’m her roommate. Autumn.”
Autumn didn’t like that expression. Things that blossomed also died and usually quickly after the blossoming. Their friendship…
Autumn struggled to come up with a word that did it justice. A well dug deep and now over brimming with the fruits of that effort? No. Too cheesy. A cancer that had begun before they knew it and now was in every part of them? Too dark.
Autumn decided to leave it at what it was and let it speak for itself. It was friendship. A friendship between the living and the dead. Neither had known the other, but each had done what they could to make the other’s life a little better. Autumn had done her best to keep Gweneveh’s room cool in the oddly hot autumn while Gweneveh had not sought to remove the spirit from her residence. In fact, Gweneveh had tried to protect Autumn’s few remaining possessions. It hadn’t worked out, and now, Autumn’s book of fairytales had been held hostage for over a full season. Not to mention, it was winter, and Autumn’s occasional mood swings left the already cold season even colder.
But they were getting along. Which always made it rough on Autumn when Gweneveh slipped out for the day. For seasons now, Autumn had been entertaining herself, but now that she had the company of someone else again, she didn’t know what to do when those individuals were unavailable.
Today, she was trying to keep busy with cleaning the room. The sort of cleaning she could do was nothing helpful. It was just an excuse to practice her projection. She could barely move anything with the potency of her mist in this aspect, so she focused a projected area near the tip of one materialized finger and pushed a stray strand of Gweneveh’s hair off of her pillow. The stubborn hair kept catching on the fabric of the pillowcase and falling away from Autumn’s projected mist, forcing the ghost to start over again and again and again by willing her mist to form another flat disc of mist that could press outward against the physical world. Finally, the strand made it to the edge of the pillow, and Autumn lifted it free until it was far away from the bed, releasing it to fall to the floor.
She was about to start again when the door to Gweneveh’s room opened. Autumn dematerialized, only to realize it was her roommate and materialize again. Autumn’s bright blue eyes met Gweneveh’s.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
Gweneveh beamed a smile back at her. “‘Good morning’ yourself. It’s midafternoon.”
“Sorry. I lose track of time.”
“You have more of it than most. It makes you forget how precious it is.”
Gweneveh was sometimes too astute for her own good. Autumn ignored her friend’s wisdom and, instead, moved on to the more pressing matter at the moment, at least in her mind. “Where were you?”
Gweneveh laughed. “Autumn, are you getting jealous?”
A lifetime of experience in this world still hadn’t given Autumn what she needed to cope with flirting. She was speechless.
Gweneveh laughed again. “I only jest. I was out with the most remarkable woman.”
“Remarkable?”
“Not that way. A lady doesn’t kiss and tell. She’s remarkable in the things she does. She’s a fortune teller.”
“Oh.” Autumn couldn’t help the roll of the eyes that came afterward. “A fortune teller.”
It wasn’t often that Gweneveh got defensive over the things she did, the choices she made, but this she pressed. “Trust me. This one isn’t a con artist. She told me everything I wanted to hear.”
“That’s how they make their money. They read you and tell you something about yourself that you gave away.”
“You’re too cynical, Autumn. What she said was true. I asked her about what my future held, for me and my love life. Do you know what she told me? That I would die, never married and alone, at least as far as lovers go.”
That was something that stunned Autumn. “How could that be what you wanted to hear?”
Gweneveh removed the coat she had gone out in, draping it over the back of the chair at her dresser, and watched Autumn through the mirror there as she talked to the ghost. “Because love isn’t real. At least not romantic love. People play at it, pretend and trick themselves into believing it’s real, but in the end, it is all driven by lust. And once the lust wears off, they realize that was all there was to it. And then they leave each other. Or worse, they’ve had children together and find themselves stuck living a life they only had thought they wanted.
“If I die alone and unmarried, that means I will not’ve fallen for that lie. I’m happy enough to be clever and alone. But I won’t be. She said when I go, I will be surrounded by friends. At least, that was how I interpreted things.”
As clever and brilliant as Autumn thought Gweneveh was, it still stunned her that her friend put any stock in the ramblings of fortune tellers. Her skeptical stare said so.
Gweneveh sat down, removing her winter hat and letting her long hair spill loose behind her. Turning and leaning over the back of the chair, she met Autumn’s eyes. “Her name’s Dev’Ania. You should go to her, see what she has to say.”
“About what? My life?”
“You are fate-touched.”
Autumn smirked at that.
Gweneveh’s smile softened sadly for her friend. “It’s sad that someone who has lived as long as you can’t see that. You think all that experience would have brought you wisdom. You are fate-touched. How else would you have made it this long?”
“I’m stubborn. Fate has nothing to do with it. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn that fate has nothing to do with it. Anything that could be controlled and led by fate instead unravels and falls apart.”
“You could have been wise, but instead you played the fool. That’s good, though. Fortune favors your kind.” Stopping, Gweneveh dug into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a small purse of coins. She started to rummage through them. “Here, take my money and go find out for yourself.”
Autumn shook her head. “Keep your coin, Gweneveh. If I’m really touched by fate, as you claim, then an opportunity will present itself for my fortune to be revealed. Besides, I couldn’t carry the coins anyhow. I’m not strong enough.”
Gweneveh’s eyes narrowed. “Just because you don’t believe, doesn’t mean you have to be an ass to those who do. Go and talk to her. She’s on Shinyama Peak, one to the west. A little shop called Nine Lives. She’ll change your mind.”
Autumn’s eyes narrowed in return. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Actually, yes. I have a regular coming shortly.” Gweneveh raised her eyebrows. “You’re more than welcome to stay, but something tells me that’s not your thing.”
Grumbling, Autumn twisted and disappeared, blinking through the walls into the snowy outdoors. There were small flakes drifting down from the sky, and the people that Autumn passed on her way to find the fortune teller were covered from head to foot in their warmest gear. Some of it looked old and not well looked after. After all, it had been several years since those articles of clothing had been pulled out and put to good use.
Some of the Lhavitians grumbled. Mountaintops were already cold, but drown them in snow and winter, and they only got colder. More of them though were happy for its return. There was hope, hope that things had returned to normal, that Morwen had returned, that the season’s cycle was complete once more. There was an attitude of trust and cordiality between most in the city, a sense of celebration and wonder at what the world was like blanketed in snow.
Autumn herself was brighter than she had been for some time, and every cold flake that lanced through her soul only made her feel warmer. She had friends, Candace and Gweneveh. And little Emma, too, though she wasn’t sure if she could count her fellow ghost. Emma might have been young, but she was smart, smarter than she let on. She didn’t trust Autumn completely yet. And Ennisa. Little made people more friendly than helping them save those they loved. Madeira was a little more complicated, not a friend but not the enemy she had expected either.
In her cheery mood, Autumn danced, spinning in circles as whirls of snow twirled through the air past her. She danced through wintery gust as the danced through her, neither disturbing the other as each danced to a different song, it to the song of winter and she to a song once heard on Black Rock. It was with this music in mind that Autumn reached the bridge and danced through the air beside it until she reached Shinyama peak. It didn’t take her long to find the building as it sat near the bridge with snow gathering on the wooden sign that stated its name, THE NINE LIVES.
It was Autumn’s habit to present herself in as real of a way, in as human of a way, as possible, so she stood outside the door. And hesitated. It took her several ticks to realize that was what she was doing, and she took several more to figure out why. Anticipation ran quick and greedy through her soul. If she had a heart, it would have been racing. Part of her wanted to believe that this was real. The other part was afraid it wouldn’t be and knew the disappointment the former would feel. There was only one way to find out.
Pulling in the loose mist that hung in a cloud around her, she focused her thoughts on it and bent it to her will, bending the light around her to present the visage of her best and most amiable self. The color of her dress was lost in the materialization, but the color of her bright blue eyes was not. She smiled and stepped through the door, only to find the room on the other side empty. Being a ghost, she hadn’t actually opened the door, so there was no way anyone inside would have heard her entrance. The use of the doorway had just been out of some habit formed in life.
A little black kitten slept on a counter nearby, and Autumn made sure not to disturb it. She was about to explore elsewhere when the sound of someone singing came from the room in the back. It was a beautiful voice, perhaps not the attuned voice of a professional but a voice that knew its strengths, but Autumn lost the words of the song through the wall. Not wanting to frighten the fortune teller, Autumn gathered in any swirling mist, so as not to appear angry, then stood in the doorway. With a loose strand of mist, Autumn created a small point of projected bit of her soul and pushed it sharply against the doorframe.
A small knock sounded, and the fortune teller looked up from whatever it was she had been doing. There was no missing the woman for what she was. The pale skin and pale hair with iridescent scaling. She was Konti, one of the blessed daughters of the isle of Mura. But Autumn also knew there was no escaping notice of what she was either. Despite her best efforts at materialization, anyone would be able to tell that she was there without being there, a disembodied soul, a ghost.
In an attempt to prevent any reaction of fear, Autumn put on her best smile, the disarming one. “Please, don’t be startled. A friend sent me to see you. She was just in here earlier. Gweneveh. I’m sure you remember her. One of the prettiest faces on the mountain. You told her fortune, and what you told her brought her relief, made her happy. I think she was hoping you could do the same for me.”
Realizing she hadn’t introduced herself, the ghost dipped a quick curtsey in her materialized dress. “I’m her roommate. Autumn.”