[Quest] Clinging to the Past (Paragon)

[Warden Thrice]

Eorar dipped his head reverently, conflicted. He did feel extremely guilty for living in someone else’s home, but he had already established himself here and it would be very difficult to move while going to the University. And on top of that, this was a Charoda, albeit a dead one, and he couldn’t just walk away from something so familiar, yet so alien. “I’m sorry,” he said earnestly, “I really am. I… I didn’t know that the cave was yours. I’m sorry.” He fell silent for a few seconds, thinking of how to continue. He certainly didn’t want to anger the ghost, but he certainly didn’t want to have to leave, either. And despite the situation, his curiosity was becoming overwhelming. “How long have you been here?” The questions began flowing before he could stop them. “What’s your name? How did you get here? Are you…” he looked down sheepishly, “…are you a boy or girl?”

[Paragon]

When Eorar began to apologise, the ghost softened somewhat. "I am the one who should be sorry. I forget what it was like to be... alive." The ghost moved then, no longer tethered to the spot. The soulmist came with him, a pale creation of darkness and light. "I'm a boy," the ghost said almost jovially, "Javar is my name." Eorar listened, nodding. He was grateful that the ghost was no longer angry with him. "I... I don't really remember much. Something happened. Something bad. And then I just found myself here. I felt a little lost, I suppose." The ghost sighed, the mist shimmying. "I wish I could remember."

[Warden Thrice]

“It’s quite alright. Javar…” Eorar rolled the name in his mouth, testing it, memorizing it. “Javar. Hello, Javar. I’m Eorar.” The ghost moved, and some of the living Charoda’s fear began to slide away. It was eerie, definitely unsettling, but it seemed more familiar now. And when he spoke, his tone was so confused, sad, even, and its emotions were as real as those of any living person. “That sounds terrible, not knowing. Do you… do you know who you were? Before the bad thing? No, wait.” He drew back, shaking his head. “You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry, I forget my curiosity sometime.” He held the candle and looked around again. It was much easier to see this time without the candle dancing sporadically. “For what it’s worth, you chose a wonderful cave,” he said awkwardly, unsure how he was supposed to converse with a ghost.

[Paragon]

"Oh yes..." Javar said, "I remember this cave vividly. I spent a lot of time here, I think." The ghost moved towards the cave entrance, gliding past Eorar and the cold candle. "I'd like to swim a little," Javar said to the Charoda that had come to his cave, "Perhaps I might remember something. I really want to remember." His voice was almost desperate, sad and crestfallen. Eorar felt a little pity for this lonely ghost. Ghosts usually had a reason to remain tethered to Mizahar, rather than reincarnate. Whatever Javar had forgotten, probably had something to do with that. "Would you swim with me?" he said, turning back to Eorar momentarily, "I'm sorry if I was rude... I was a little scared. Not remembering anything is more frightening than I could ever have imagined."

[Warden Thrice]

Eorar couldn’t help but shiver as the ghost moved past him, and when he spoke, he couldn’t help but pity. His heard went out to the being before him, not only out of sadness for a soul but also empathy for another of the seakin. The living Charoda reached out and put a hand on the dead one’s shoulder, only to be reminded that it was an apparition when his hand passed through cold air. Even so, he hoped the message was clear. “Of course,” he said. “And think nothing of what was said before. The rudeness was deserved for living in another’s home. I was being stubborn when I shouldn’t have.” Eorar walked to the edge of the water, then looked at the cold candle. It would be a bit awkward to swim with, like hopping on one foot, but he wasn’t sure if Javar wanted the light. “Uh, should I snuff this out or would you like me to leave it on?”

[Paragon]

Javar laughed at Eorar, as if it were an odd question. "I have no need for light anymore," he said quietly, leaving the cave. As they moved out into the water, there were muffled sounds above. Eorar had picked his cave not far from the docks. The hubbub of the city continued, as it always did. Zeltiva was not Syliras - it never would be - but it held a size and grandeur unlike most. To Javar, the sounds were nothingness. White noise, crackling through the darkness that his life had become. He moved through the water no differently to how he moved upon land. His soulmist shimmered faintly in acquiescence. Eorar followed behind, watching as Javar began to look around him. The ghost suddenly seemed more aware than before. A flash had come to him. Something. A memory he couldn't quite grasp. Something had happened here, out in the water. And the clamour of the ships above had something to do with it.

[Warden Thrice]

Eorar nodded to himself, then set to figuring out just how to turn the candle off. Snuffing it seemed to work, but the light flared up again after a few seconds. He mashed it, doused it, twisted it, but it stayed resiliently lit. After a few exasperated moments of stillness, he took it in with him. He immediately saw that it was a good idea. Javar was walking through the water, not swimming, and made absolutely no sound. Had he not kept the light, Eorar had no doubt that he would have swum right past the ghost without noticing that he had stopped. His eyes were wide, even for those of a fishkin, and he looked like he was daydreaming. Eorar wanted very much to ask what was happening, but kept his mouth resiliently shut. If Javar was really trying to remember something, Eorar didn’t want to dispel it. He would speak when he was ready.

[Paragon]

Javar stopped dead in his tracks, eyes flitting through the water around him. He could suddenly taste blood, great streaks of crimson sweeping through the water. But the image was a mental one - and thankfully, Eorar would not witness the memory. A great pain struck at Javar, and in a moment of clarity, he remembered, the light streaking down on him from the surface. "I... I died here... fishermen. They used poison, a terrible poison, to kill all the fish," Javar whispered, his soulmist going a deathly white. "Where are my family?" he suddenly asked, voice strained and panicked. "Where is my mother?"

[Warden Thrice]

A pain overtook Javar’s features. The wraith’s words were halting, unsure. Eorar’s eyes widened. Poison? In the water? His stomach twisted sickeningly, and he had difficulty conceiving what must have happened, or what it must have been like for the being before him. Javar looked around him suddenly, as if he had forgotten where he was. His mother? “Javar…” Eorar said softly. “Javar, it’s me. Eorar. Javar, what happened?”

[Paragon]

Javar turned back to the friendly Charoda, soulmist resonating visibly. He remembered it all, and a jolt of terror consumed him. "They all died here. In the poison... but where are they? Where are they all?" Eorar would remember the little he knew of ghosts - that something kept them tethered to their current soul, blocking their reincarnation. Had the rest of Javar's family moved on? "I haven't seen them... but I remember." Javar turned to Eorar questioningly, "where are they? Have you seen them?"