We can't sleep

[Jomi]

82nd Autumn 520AV

"Come on Jalhere, don't be shy. My husband will be out all night! we have the place to ourselves...Don't I look pretty in this dress?"

Charred skin and bloated fleshed sloughed off the woman's neck as she spoke. Smearing another layer of greasy viscera to the blackened remains of the torn red silk, exposing the tendons beneath that fluttered with every word. Her jewel-colored eyes, dull and glassy from the cruelty of decay, hung from their sockets by the shriveled threads of nerves.

"...Mhm." Jomi replied, tensely.

A sea of white ethereal mists had settled over Lhavit. Jomi had watched during his morning wanderings as the funny-looking, screaming white cloud had crested over the horizon like a hurricane of angst and crashed down over Satu. It had crawled over the Peaks in less than a bell, bringing with it the manifestation of thousands of ghosts. The spirits crowded the streets and parks, forcing the sane citizenry indoors lest they draw the attention of the restless dead. Meanwhile, the younger, more foolhardy citizens opted to continue about their day. Fearless youngsters whisked through the mist, their steps stiff as their teeth chattered against the unnatural cold, their glassy eyes firmly on their feet. But for the most part, the streets had been deserted of the normal bustle, with nothing but the wailing of the more self-aware spirits to be heard echoing over the skyglass domes.

Jomi forced a neutral expression as he edged himself away from the delusional ghost. The burned woman had decided, quite suddenly, that Jomi was to have a part to play in her melodrama. The fixated ghost and her unwilling victim had been slowly phasing through and around the fountain and decorative foliage surrounding Surya plaza like the world's laziest game of tag. The Kelvic had to summon all the tattered remnants of his self-control not to blink himself away from this uncomfortably pushy and visually horrific ghost. With only a thought Jomi could blink himself out of the market and be on the other end of Satru in less than a chime, but so could she. All ghosts had that ability, whether they were consciously aware of their undead status was unimportant.

And gods only knew the path of carnage that would follow him if 'Jalhere' were to ditch this clingy soul.

"Come here you tease, do that thing I like." The woman purred, her swollen black tongue dancing over melted lips. A patch of slimy, wet skin matted with the thin burned wisps of hair hung loosely from her scalp. Jomi watched it pull further off the yellowed bone with a sick, morbid repulsion until it settled down over her shoulder like the world's most vile ribbon.

"I don't have time for this!" Jomi snapped, his patience evaporating into the ether along with his appetite. "I need to make sure Edith-."

The ghost's train of thought derailed abruptly as soon as the sound materialized from his lips. The train then jumped the tracks and plunged off the side of a cliff, leaving the stunned ghost feeling confused and hollow as he tried to piece a coherent thought from the wreckage.

"-Ira. Madeira is okay. I need to find..." Jomi's soulmist stuttered, his form flitting in and out of existence as his eyes lost focus and stared into the abyss. A creeping feeling of wrong settled over him and for the first time since his death, Jomi could have sworn he felt a breath of cold lingering on his neck. "I'm looking for someone, someone important. Someone very.."

Even the burned woman stalled her advance, turning a quizzical head as Jomi snapped back to reality. The confusion and lingering dread dispersed from his mind like a bad dream.

"Wait, isn't that your husband?" Jomi inquired innocently, his finger pointing at the empty space over her rotting, exposed shoulder blade.

The woman's head spun vigorously with a gasp, clutching the shredded remains of her dress to her chest in shock. Jomi watched the burnt flesh of her neck split and weep as she overextended the burnt tissue as his eyes dissolved into mist and he blinked himself away.

Dusk tower, his bonded was in the Dusk tower. He had to get to her.

[Autumn Rose]

Rage. Autumn had become the embodiment of it. Mist spit from her body like the bursting of pine cones in fire, and she made no effort to hide herself as she traversed the peak through the few brave souls who were out and about. They avoided her, but they were busy avoiding the multitude of other ghost as well that had flooded Lhavit in the last few days. No one paid her any particular attention, and no one tried to hinder her, living or otherwise.

When the ghosts had showed up in Lhavit, a whole storm of them, Autumn had stayed home at the Lantern. Yes, ghosts could be dangerous, but she was a ghost herself, and she had… ways around them. Any concerns Autumn had were not for herself. Her primary worry was over Maro, but he was housed cozily in the Infinity Manor. While House drew ghosts, it also knew how to defend itself (and its inhabitants) against them. Maro was Madeira’s charge, and no matter how much she may have resented the notion, it meant Maro was safe.

So Autumn had stayed at the Red Lantern where the only other people she cared about resided. The ladies of the night at the brothel were a second family; Gweneveh, a confidant and beloved sister. Thought her roommate was the one she was fondest of, Autumn had a special place in her heart for each one, and each time a new member entered their flock, Autumn quickly fell in love with them. Each one, Autumn watched and learned their many flaws and intricacies until she knew them better than their most treasured lovers.

By sticking near to the Lantern, Autumn had been convinced she could keep her little family safe. What she hadn’t counted on was the kind of ghosts a brothel would draw. There were those looking for the faces of lost lovers among the young, beautiful faces of the prostitutes. These, Autumn could manage well enough. The truly frightening were those who had preyed on the beautiful during life and now strove to find the same pleasures in death.

Rumors had already been flitting about about a ghost that had been targeting the young and the beautiful with murderous intent. Several women had fallen victim to it on other peaks, but it began moving its way closer. Aurelie had strayed too far from the Lantern, and the thing had discovered her and followed her home.

Midday, when she had no customers and she was alone, it struck. Possession was its weapon, and it had taken over her body and was using it to torture her. Perhaps the most frightening of all was that Aurelie couldn’t scream or call for help as she had no control over her own body. But Autumn had been about, and something had felt off, wrong. When she drifted in on Aurelie ripping her skin from the flesh beneath with her own fingernails, she suspected what was happening and acted quickly. Blinking, Autumn collided with Aurelie’s body and the two souls within. One thing was apparent on Autumn’s entry. One soul was very old and very powerful, and the other, Aurelie’s, was young and outclassed in any way that would give her a fighting chance. Nonetheless, the girl was fighting, but she could gain no ground in the retaking of her body.

Autumn’s arrival changed everything. Though it was hard to convey any meaning or purpose directly to the soul whose body she was now occupying, Autumn’s war against the other intruder marked her as a friend or, at the very least, an enemy of Aurelie’s enemy, and the woman worked with Autumn to wrest control from the hostile spirit. Where Aurelie worked, Autumn worked too, the effort magnified and exponentiated with their combined efforts. Soul collided with soul collided with soul, and another frightening thing became apparent. This soul might have been as old as Autumn, maybe even older, and it had been possessing creatures far longer and more often than Autumn had. Even with two souls working against the one, they were hard pressed to make any sort of headway, but eventually, the other ghost gave up the fight. He was unable to get his enjoyment while spending all this time fighting the two women.

It left Aurelie, and immediately, she screamed, not out of fear but out of pain. When the ghost materialized, he appeared as a young man, handsome with warm, inviting eyes. He smiled at Aurelie thought she likely missed it all as she continued to writhe on the ground with bits of her skin still stuck under her nails.

What should have been a handsome smile turned nasty as he sneered. “I’ll be back to finish with you, dear. Imagine all the-”

He didn’t make it any further. Autumn flung herself free from the constricting body, materialized in to the terrifying form that had been her death, and blinked. Her trajectory directed her in front of him and then carried her through him, and her materialized hands caught at little shreds of his soulmist and tore them free. It was his turn to scream as his very essence was ripped from him. Whatever gloating and threats he had had were forgotten, and he disappeared into the ether.

Autumn made herself scarce. She was still an unwelcome entity in the Lantern and was supposed to have vacated a year ago. She was already gone and on her way to Madeira’s when help arrived for Aurelie.

Yes. Autumn was rage incarnate, but she had the mind of someone with longevity to give it purpose and direction. She’d had the presence of mind to garb some Borrowed Life. How dare something come into her house and attack her family? Her powerlessness to stop this other spirit entirely turned to anger, and she seethed. She was rage.

Fortunately, House had had some practice with her and was getting pretty good at identifying her, her moods, and who those moods were directed at. It sensed her rage, and though that made it hesitant, it knew her rage was not directed at anyone within. The lock clicked, and the door swung open for her closing behind her once she was in. House was on edge.

Inside, Autumn began to make demands. “House, fetch me Madeira.”

Emma wandered in through a wall from whatever it was she’d been doing. She had heard Autumn’s voice and was hoping the other ghost was there to see her. Before the girl could say anything though, Autumn cut her off. “Kitten, I need you to find Maro and keep him in the kitchen, please.”

There were things Autumn needed to discuss without Maro there to see and hear.

Emma pouted. “You said you’d spend the whole day with me the next time you came, because you’re always with Maro. He’s not even a very good friend. He barely talks and-”

“Emma!” Autumn had a fierce mothering streak, one that drew children to her, and Emma was no exception. Any signs of that Autumn though were gone today. “Now.”

The ghost girl’s eyes went big, and then, she disappeared.

House wasn’t bringing Madeira as fast as Autumn would have liked. She decided to expedite the process and called as loud as she could. “Madeira!”

[Madeira Dusk]

Autumn is here.

Madeira's hands fisted in the bedcovers, the scar tissue pulling taunt and white across her knuckles. For the first time in a long time, she didn't notice the ghost pass through the property. Her god-gifted sense of death had become a never ending riot of white noise, buzzing like static across her nerves ever since the undead horde had descended on Lhavit. The overstimulation was making her numb.

"Whatever she wants, tell her no", Madeira mumbled into the duvet. Her mouth tasted like sand. She was lying atop the covers, fully dressed in yesterday's clothes, her fists and the fabric between them pressed to the sides of her head to try and block out the sound of Autumn screaming her name.

She's in a rage, the house continued as if it hadn't heard. It was pushing at her mind, trying to drag her into full wakefulness as gently as it could. It was dark outside the windows, but Madeira had lost track of what time it was. I've not let any more ghost's through, it answered before she could ask.

Madeira sat up like she was made of lead and slid off the bed. Her sturdy pants were creased with hard use, and there were bloodstains on the sleeves of her white blouse. Her red ringed eyes squinted into the dark, finding her gloves and rings where she had dropped them on the floor.

A chime later she was descending the rattling iron stairs to the first floor, hands behind her head as she scrapped her thin, greasy hair back into a utilitarian knot. She passed Emma and Maro on her way down, the two children peering from behind the bars of the second floor railing. Maro was as impassive as always, his head cocked like he was watching something mildly interesting, but Emma was cowering. The little ghost had all ten fingers in her mouth and was sniffling like she did when Jomi was short with her. In ticks Madeira knew why. Even before she was in the room she could feel the pulse of something terrible lifting off Autumn like a storm cloud. The ghost smelt like a lightning strike and looked like thunder, standing in the middle of the ground floor like she was going to burn it down. Madeira had never seen her so angry before, and she couldn't admit even to herself that just the sight of it scared her too.

The open kitchen to Autumn's left was a disaster of the kind not seen since before Maro came to live with them. A massive box of nails and a dozen jars of soulmist were piled on the counter, and the space that was left was packed with ingredients and dough in various stages of completion. The remains of a meal was congealing in the belly of the stove pot. In the sink were over twenty dirty souldarts and two empty crossbows.

"I haven't slept in three days, Autumn", Madeira stated evenly by way of greeting, stepping down off the stairs. "Whatever you want from me, you can't have it."

What she meant was I can't give it to you. She was wrecked in a way she hadn't been since Autumn had first met her on the beach in Alvadas. Every Spiritist in the city was running ragged trying to keep the havoc under control. The Dusk Tower was choked with people begging them to help chase the malevolent spirit out of their attic or family pet. As the most qualified Spiritist in the tower Madeira had been heading tricky exorcisms and hunts and battling the more destructive poltergeists. When she couldn't keep up with it anymore she'd spent bells making ghostnail barriers for as many scared households on the peak as she could. At this point she was wrung out in a way that would make it easy for a ghost to overpower her.

"You're not the only one with problems", she continued, growing more heated, though the spark was weak against the roaring inferno of Autumn's rage. "The entire damned city is overrun. If a ghost isn't actively trying to kill you, you can get in line with everyone else." By the end she had her arms over her chest in a unconsciously defensive display.

"Jomi!" Madeira turned away from Autumn and called her servant. Since the ghost had crashed through the Dusk Tower to warn her of the sudden influx of undead he hadn't wandered far. His resurrection had broken him, and her attempts to fix him by erasing the experience completely from his mind was having strange consequences. She didn't know how he would react to Autumn rage but she wanted to be nearby when he did.

[Jomi]

"Jomi!"

The Master's sharp cutting tone carried with it the unspoken command of his immediate presence and promise of unpleasant things if he were to dawdle.

Jomi's translucent, agitated soulmist danced over the twisted metal, leaving thin geometric ice crystals in it's wake. Jomi wasn't the least bit surprised that Madeira hadn't sensed him watching from the second floors railing. One didn't need to be a spiritist to be overwhelmed by the presence and energy that poured from the woman standing in their entranceway. The normally small mild mannered little whisp of a ghost he'd grown so fond of moved like a storm cloud. Demanding the Masters presence and being coolly rebuffed by the half-dead spiritist.

He had no doubt that a spiritist of Madeira's caliber, as drained as she was, would have no trouble expelling an unwelcome guest from her house herself. But she requested his presence and Jomi wouldn't dare to keep his bond waiting.

The ghost took a second to brace himself before blinking off the railing and materializing inside the spiritist. It was not a graceful possession, it could barley even be labeled as cooperative. Jomi doubted Madeira had the strength left to stand with him and pilot her body together. Instead Jomi took the initiative and crowded his hosts soul and took control of the muscles and tissues. Winding himself deeper into her being and asserting himself as the dominant force.

Madeira's body fit him like an old glove. After years of possession practice and training Jomi knew her body better than he'd ever known his own. That knowledge aided him as he brought his attention to Madeira's legs, spreading his being through the fibers of her muscles and the space between them. Latching on to the web of dijed that flowed through and connected the individual strands and redirecting it, letting it pool in her calves. A trace of flux to ensure Madeira's swift departure, should Autumns rage be directed at her.

The possession was seamless and instantaneous, even a master spiritist would be hard pressed to notice the change. Until Madeira opened her mouth and spoke with Jomi's Kenashian drawl.

"I was just thinking," Jomi snickered, gesturing broadly to Autumn's living-adjacent borrowed body and Madeira's world wearied soul. "Between you and Madeira you two would make one whole living person." Jomi cackled at his own joke before Madeira's face turned dark and steely. "But no, seriously, we can't help you. Get out."

[Autumn Rose]

Autumn hadn’t been expecting a warm welcome, but this was colder than she had been expecting, even for Madeira.

“I haven’t slept in three days, Autumn. Whatever you want from me, you can’t have it.”

At first, Autumn thought the spiritist was exaggerating. No one styed up for three days straight. It wasn’t humanly possible. Unless it was. Unless one was Madeira Craven. The usually tired, ringed eyes were more so and bloodshot now, too. There was a weight to Madeira, like that of a soul stretched so thin it was bleeding out past its edges. Madeira’s stubborn ass had done it. She had been awake for the last three days, giving of herself until there was no more to give.

In all her dealings with Madeira, Autumn had seen two sides. One was the liar, the manipulator. Madeira did things for Madeira’s sake, twisted situations to her advantage, always took the action that led to the betterment of her own life. The other though was a woman dedicated to her art and her Goddess. This woman, when she was about, was dead set on honoring the cycle of life and death and returning wayward spirits to it. When this woman was in control, Madeira’s self-interest was shoved aside. Of the two, this woman was more powerful, able to drive Madeira to greater heights and deeds, but as with any person, each was made of parts of a whole, and one hardly ever operated without the rest.

Autumn could see the exhaustion in the spiritist’s eyes, taste in the air around her, and she worked to contain her rage. Her mists settled, if only slightly.

“You’re not the only one with problems…. If a ghost isn’t actively trying to kill you, you can get in line with everyone else.”

Madeira turned away and called for another ghost, then stopped and turned back to the ghostly Autumn before her. There was something different in the way her body moved, in the way her face expressed emotion. It wasn’t her anymore. Someone else was using her body. A new accent rode her tongue, and at once, Autumn recognized it. It was from her place of birth, but more importantly, it was Jomi’s.

Jomi made a joke and laughed at it, but Autumn didn’t respond. Jomi’s borrowed face hardened. “But, no, seriously, we can’t help you. Get out.”

“Go eat shit, Jomi. I’m not in the mood.” Autumn had met him before, and while he had been a welcome distraction from the weight of death at that time, Autumn got the sense that he was more trouble than not, that he was just as likely to turn a situation on its head because he thought it would be funny than he was to help and do his part. She didn’t need him fouling this up. That said, he was dangerous, and having someone dangerous on her side was not something she’d pass up. Still, she couldn’t help bit throw a barb of her own. “The adults are talking.”

She met Madeira’s eyes and know both she and Jomi were watching her from them. She had to appeal to them both, but all she felt was anger. “I’m not here for me.” She gestured to herself and her obviously dead state of living. “I already died. Remember?”

She was getting heated, despite trying to remain calm, and she needed to keep that way now. Throwing a tantrum would not buy her Madeira’s pity, only her ire. “It’s not me who’s in danger. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. The young and the beautiful being hunted in our streets. Well, whatever was doing it finally made it to my home. It’s found the Lantern.” She tried to wrap her own mind around what she had seen, so she could describe it accurately. She could, so she did her best.

“Something was off. The air didn’t feel right, though it hasn’t felt right since the storm of ghosts arrived. Still, I wanted to see if I could find what was wrong. And I did. I found it.” Her hate couldn’t be controlled this time, and her mists surged and coiled and leapt around her. “He was using her own body to torture her. Aurelie. He was clawing the flesh from her with her own fingers, and she could do nothing about it. I intervened. I possessed her, too.”

“I was barely enough.” Her mists shuddered, and her materialization faded. “He was so old, so strong. I will not be enough when he returns, and he will return. The Lantern has too many temptations. He will be back, and he will pick through them one at a time. I could feel it, when my soul pressed against his.” Her soul shivered again. “He has done it before, in life and death both.”

“I’m not here for me. I already died,” she repeated. A plan, terrible and haphazard, had formed in her mind, one that terrified her, but it was all she had. Making sure Emma and Maro were both not in sight, Autumn turned back to Madeira. With that assurance that only Madeira and Jomi and House would see what she was about to reveal, Autumn let her death play out in her materialization, all accelerated of course. It had taken her bells upon bells to die, and she didn’t have that kind of time to waste. She made them watch as she was thrown to the ground and her clothes were torn and pulled away. The rape. The torture. Until finally something large and heavy caved her skull in.

Slowly, her materialization faded back to the Autumn they all recognized. “This is why I told Maro to never use Dira’s gift. I didn’t want him to accidentally stumble on this. He didn’t need to see this. This is what I went through for women I didn’t know, for women I would never meet. Imagine what lengths I will go to for those I love.”

“I’m going to give you an opportunity you won’t be able to pass up. I’m gonna give you the chance to kill me.” Autumn shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll even stay dead this time.” She held up her hand with the two gems of Borrowed Life, letting one tumble out of her hand to hit the floor with a dull thud. It looked very real, but a human’s hand wouldn’t be able to touch it, not even Madeira’s with its years of attunement to the spiritual. Only a ghost would be able to lift it and use it. “A gift for you, Jomi. Use it wisely. It’s limited in its time. You’ll see what it is in a moment. I hope you’ll be there at the Lantern for if things go sideways.” She held hers up and met Madeira’s eyes. “Please, Madeira, don’t let me face this alone.”

With that, she popped the gem in her mouth. She had yet to watch the transformation herself, so she couldn’t know what the others saw as the taste of starsong and light filled her mouth. All she knew was the flood of sensations that cascaded through her as her body became real once more. She pushed herself back up to standing. Somewhere in the transition, she had collapsed to her hands and knees, not used to the weight of a real body. “I can either be bait or just another victim. The choice is yours.”

The newly living woman gestured to the crossbows. “And if you need, put a bolt in me to hold him in place. It’s not like I’m going to make it through this alive anyhow.”

[Madeira Dusk]

Jomi slid in through Madeira's back and she let herself be pushed aside. It was easier than fighting a master possessor about it. His protection was sometimes just as bad as what he was protecting against, but she would rather he be on her side than anyone else's.

Across the room Autumn was collecting herself. One did not last seventy years staving off death without the right resiliency and patience. Madeira watched in wonder as Autumn took control of herself and tapped down the human instinct to give into anger. She began to explain why she was here.

It was a murderer, loose in Lhavit. It had found the Red Lantern, and Autumn had found it. Him. Fought him, while he was killing one of the girls, and then-

Madeira wasn't sure what her body was doing, but it felt as if her soul had fled. Autumn fell to the floor screaming, replaying what could have only been her murder. The assailant couldn't be seen, only when he was doing to her body. The manor was heaving around them. The wood bowing back and creaking as if it were going to burst. It had seen brutal bloodshed on its property before, and this was its worst fear revisited. Its emotions were playing back to everyone in the room, only lending the scene even more authenticity as fear ran hot and electric over all of them.

Madeira made herself watch the whole thing, not willing to let Autumn think the dramatic display had gotten to her. But as the final invisible blow rained down in the woman, her skull bursting like overripe ripe fruit, she knew the scene would feature prominently in her nightmares.

And after all of it, after she stood back up as whole and unbroken as the day she met her, Autumn declared that the death they had just witnessed, the rape and torture, was to save a stranger. Would Madeira go through that, even for a loved one? She knew in an instant that she couldn't. She didn't fear death, but that wasn't death, that was something much worse.

Autumn was holding one of her cursed stones. She popped it into her mouth and Madeira could feel her own mouth fall open as she began to change. It didn't start at a point like she expected, it moved subtler than that. It was like focusing ones eye on something far away: first she was like a smudge on the hillside, human-shaped but somehow less, missing some critical identifying element of a person. Then she was closer and clearer, and clearer still, now not just a something but a someone. Somewhere in the choir of background noise of Madeira's mind a single dead voice popped out of existence like it was never there, and the dead girl was human again.

Autumn threw them a stone like the one she had just consumed, and Madeira bent to pick it up, but it passed right through her fingers, as if she herself were a ghost. She shivered and stood.

Don't eat that Jomi. Save it, she told the spirit inside her body. We might need a good possessor.

The stair railing was in her hand as the tremors of the house subsided. She wasn't sure if it was her or Jomi that was keeping their balance. She straightened and shook the ghost off like a bad cold, though she didn't make the effort to eject him out of her body. She probably wouldn't be able to if she tried. Without him the hard curl of her lip softened, and her voice came through tinged with old money and the wild streets of Alvadas.

"Autumn..." Madeira began, trailing off. What does one say after that? She cleared her throat. "Okay. Okay, we'll help you", she volunteered Jomi too with mindless arrogance. "But please believe me when I say I am not my best", she smoothed a hand over her hair, looking somewhere over Autumn's shoulder. "Even at my best this kind of violence would be beyond dangerous. As I am this might be impossible. I do not think I will be able subdue this ghost, or hunt it down, or fight his possession, not without the two of you. I will need your help more than you will need mine. Just tell me what you need me to do."

This was going to be Autumn's hunt. It hurt something instinctual in the spiritist to give up control, especially in something like this, but she had no choice. Their was an undead murderer in Lhavit, and of the three of them only Autumn had the power and control to stop it.

Weaving through the mess in the kitchen, Madeira collected a box of nails, which she thrust into Autumn's hands, her flask of soulmist, her filthy Dead Hand crossbow and six bolts. Five she strapped to the bracer, the sixth she loaded into the barrel.

"Okay, Jomi", she blinked hard, willing herself back to her senses. This was one step short of suicide, she needed herself as sharp as possible. "You know the way."

[Jomi]

Jomi didn't push for control as Madeira shrugged him aside. The ghost instead chose to become inert and watch from behind her eyes as Madeira stood firm before the writhing Autumn. The horror being played out before them was cruel and viscerally animalistic. A sight that made Jomi squirm uncomfortably hidden inside his cooly composed Master. He couldn't have asked for a better mask. His limited emotional capacity was already strained tight with the appearance of an enraged and only situationally friendly ghost invading his home. Having to keep still and silent to witness her violent end would have been more than the spirits perpetually fragile psych could take.

Everything was happening with a panicked urgency that the more laid back ghost was struggling to follow. Autumn rose from her dramatic display and produced a jar of stones. Rolling two between her fingers before tossing one to Madeira's feet.

“A gift for you, Jomi. Use it wisely. It’s limited in its time. You’ll see what it is in a moment. I hope you’ll be there at the Lantern for if things go sideways.”

The dim, unlearned Kelvic. Forever two steps behind in whatever situation he was in. Looked on gormlessly as Autumn raised the second stone to her lips and delicately, reverently even, took it in her mouth. Jomi's soulmist rolled through Madeira's body quizzically as he waited for the stone that wasn't coming to to drop through her.

The change happened in stages. Autumn's soulmist drifted slowly around her frame at first, the edges rough and torn by her agitation. The opalescent mist growing dimmer as the woman herself grew more focused. There was no wrestling the omnipresent fog into a human shape, no carving of features from the mass of soulmist. It was if Autumn had simply broken the surface of a stirred pond, and had stepped out of the water and the shifting, fractured light and had appeared fully formed. And fully human.

The older ghosts dropped to the floor and the sudden soft whack her crumpled body made when it hit the floorboards nearly made Jomi catapult himself out of Madeira and across the room. The Kelvic was so wrapped up in her transformation that the unexpected, impossible sound sent a surge of shock that made Madeira's heart jump.

A swarm of thoughts bounced around his head, each screaming for attention while the ghosts eyes pulled him to each of the glaring irregularities.

The flush of colour that tinged the exposed skin on her elbow after it broke her fall. The indents the rug fibres had pressed into her flesh. Jomi's bloodstone could create a flawless visage of a living human, but it couldn't make that body react in the way a living body could. It couldn't give it mass or blood, it couldn't bruise or blush or stumble. Jomi marvelled at the woman as she picked herself up off the floor. If a piece of the goddess of death wasn't capable of such feats what kind of sorcery did he just witness?

The glowing spot on the on the floor burned a hole in Jomi's peripheral vision. The small unassuming stone that could make a ghost heavy was taunting him from its space perched on the gaudy Alvadas inspired rug.

And just before the ghost concentrated the energy he needed to launch himself at his prize the threads of thought drifted between the cooperating souls.

Don't eat that Jomi. Save it. We might need a good possessor.

There was a degree of vulnerability that came from two souls occupying the same space. While it wasn't impossible to hide the intentions in ones projected thoughts, and the emotions that attach themselves to them, it was something Jomi had to remain constantly vigilant for. But he made no effort to hid the seething bitterness that leeched off his intertwined soul at being denied a new body.

"Okay. Okay, we'll help you." Madeira relented, the exasperated tone cut through the tense atmosphere the two had created. "But please believe me when I say I am not my best."

"Can someone please explain to me, in small words, why I'm being assigned to this mission?"

A white haze lifted off the wreaked spiritist and settled beside her. Jomi chose then to make his grand appearance as he quickly pulled and shaped his soulmist into an admirable recreation of his Kelvic body. Choosing to remain only partly materialized. As if his incorporeal state could prevent the violent energy that filled the room from finding him.

"This is suicide. You said it yourself." Jomi turned to jab an accusatory finger at the spiritist. "If this is as powerful ghost as you suggested, what the petch are the two ghosts going to do to stop it from folding you in half like a wet, crunchy omelet?"

Jomi ran his fingers over his scalp as a heavy breath hissed through his clenched teeth. The etherial digits skimmed over the weak suggestion of hair on his un-materialized form.

"But I guess you both made up your minds..." Jomi grumbled at the two women His thoughts trailing off as he fitted the burning cold mists of his elbow under Madeira's arm and waving Autumn forward with the other. "Maybe we can find a nice cliff to jump off of on the way there. Since you're feeling so reckless."

The ghost guided the spiritist around Autumn. His eyes briefly lingering on Autumn's chest and the subtle rise and fall as her body swelled with breath. And one final glance at the dropped, glowing stone. Shining merrily just out of reach.

"If I don't push you first."