[The Sunken Conundrum] An Intriguing Mystery (Dra Nivera)

[Saige]

30th of Summer, 512 AV

The hours ticked by slowly as Saige floated about the library, not really caring where the water took her as she lay down on her stomach over a book about her size. The book was an old journal written by a priest of Eyris, a goddess of wisdom and knowledge. Saige had picked it out from the towering shelves at random, and found herself so engrossed in reading that she had given Hinrane Morcer a few mizas to let her stay the night. And so the soft rays of light that broke through the windows slowly faded, and lamps were lit to illuminate the darkness with eery golden light.

The writing was much less a journal about the priest (or priestess) and more of a list of acquired information. Scattered about the pages of the book were quotes from Eyris' famous champion, Thomas Lomar. Saige understood the obsession when she reached one passage that read, "I can imagine the achievements we’ve made lost - in an instant - who then would look to recover them? Only those with a passion for History and a willingness to rediscover what was lost." the words resonated within her own brain as though the two were in synchronization. It prompted her to reach into her own bag and pull out a significantly smaller book, one that fit her size.

Things were getting complicated to keep track of, however. Whatever she wasn't holding onto simply floated away through the library's waters. So, she returned her book to her bag for the time being and put a firm grip on the Priest's journal. The swim was slow with Saige's small feet kicking at the water clumsily, the heavy pile of pages not making the journey easy. Still, she was glad that there was at least water there, or she would have trouble to make it budge. To make things easier, she merged her feet into one, long fish tail, the fins proving much more effective at the task.

She headed to an empty shelf, propped the book into a corner, positioning it until it agreed to stop moving from its position. Shelves proved much more comfortable to a being her size than the massive tables that floated about the building. She then swam over to a nearby lamp and brought it to her new spot, and shook her legs free of her swimming form. It felt good to have toes again. Finally, she pulled out her own journal, wedging it under the one she was studying. Quill in hand, she dipped he pen into her ink vial, which thankfully was not distilled by the water around it, though Saige did have to close the lid to keep it from wandering.

Eyris - A powerful goddess, of neutral alignment. It is said she holds all the wisdom and knowledge of the world. He, or she, only writes about the past. I can't even tell approximately when this person was alive, because all the information dates back to pre-valterrian. One of the passages speaks about the sword of a Suvan warrior, apparently forged by a master smith. The initial owner was murdered and his sword was stolen by a thug. The murderer's reputation grew due to the beauty of his blade and was chosen to lead a Suvan regiment. The question is, how was this ever recorded? I doubt this thug had a hobby for writing. There is no source written in the journal either. Either the whole work is a lie, or this priest has alternate methods of obtaining the information.

The question was, what method? There was no mention of gnosis in the book, only facts. Saige pondered it over, deciding that she best go on the hunt for more information on the goddess. She peered out of her cozy shelf, wondering which stack of books might contain what she was looking for.

[Dra Nivera]

Dra flitted about the library effortlessly in her ethereal form, enjoying the dark, cryptic feel the place had after dark. It was a small task for a ghost to simply enter the building in day light, vanish till night and then begin her peaceful travelling. Water ways, books and lamps seemed to set a scene more fearful than she could have produced herself, which made her feel right at home. There were no noises where she was in the library, not a torch seemed to crackle, no water seemed to drip, the perfect silence.

Silence however, has a way of being disturbed. A ripple in the water lightly drifted down beneath the ghost from somewhere distant to patter against a shelf. Though the sound would normally be no louder than a mouse walking, it resonated through the quiet like a gong struck for marching.

Interesting, Nivera thought to herself, someone else here this late, I must investigate. So she set out in the direction the disturbance had come from, keeping close to the walls lest her barely visible self be possibly seen. A few more sets of ripples followed the first, confirming to her that there was indeed someone else in the library with her. Plans crossed through her mind in an instant, frights and scares she’d developed for dark rooms and unsuspecting victims.

I wonder if this one might scream, she thought to herself, collecting her Soulmist slowly into form. It took a little while to focus her energies into the visage she wanted, her regular form before her death, no scars, no blood . . . yet. Peering down at her blurred form she rustled up some ethereal wind to make her dress and hair float a little, giving her an almost mythic appearance.

She materialized fully just in time to see her newest prey; a small Pycon, idly writing in a very tiny book, the quill making gentle scratching sounds as she wrote. Keeping to the darkness for now, Dra floated behind a shelf near where the Pycon studied and began to hum. It was a quiet noise, not even a whisper, a simple four note pattern, three up, one down. After a moment of silence, the ghost repeated the sequence, this time a slight bit louder and holding the last note out.

The clay figure looked up from her book and peered around a bit, taking in the scene. This was the chance she’d been hoping for and Dra took it quickly. Instead of humming for a third time, she let out an ‘oo’ following the same pattern as before, and this time she did it much louder, letting the sound flow out of her before silencing the last note quickly.

As the last note ended she reached out, focusing her Soulmist into her projected hand, and pushed a book out of the shelf in the Pycon’s direction. The book was a small one, an easy push even for an inexperienced ghost, and so it fell from the shelf to land in the water on its spine. The force of the fall opened the book to a page with a rather gruesome illustration on it, a lucky coincidence for the ghost though it was not intended.

The book began to drift slightly down the water on the waves its splash had created. Dra returned to her Soulmist form so she didn’t waste too much energy before the night was through. Your move my scholar, she thought, humming the note pattern one last time before going silent.

[Saige]

There was nothing there to make a book move move like it just had, but Saige's eye caught sight of it the moment it was nudged out of the shelf. She shrugged off her initial suspicion, writing it off as another of Ionu's tricks, and decided to investigate. It was always worth investigating. Again, her legs merged into a form more fit for swimming, though by the time she reached the floating book, she wondered if shapeshifting took more of a toll on her energy than regular swimming did.

She released the temporary form just as she reached her destination, throwing her bare feet out to land on the pages and stop her momentum. Crouching down, she inspected the horrific illustration curiously, without any sign of fear. It was simply a picture after all, a mere depiction of reality and nothing more. This particular depiction showed two humans lying on their backs, their limbs bound. One had some kind of stake going through his heart, and the artist had been generous in the detail of that bloody area. The scene was littered with symbols Saige did not recognize, and had a caption that read: The evil, gruesome Daek-Nuit Ritual.

"Not necessary," she mumbled to herself upon reading the adjectives. Negative connotations meant that facts we're going to be left out in order to support an argument. She wrinkled her nose, but read on anyway. Just as she started turning the page, She was alerted by the touch of an aura against her clay skin. She swiveled around with the immediate knowledge that it was certainly not Miss Morcer, and called, "Who's there?" Her voice resonated loudly throughout the water. She squinted at the bookshelf that the aura was emanating from, not sure what it was that put her so off. The water's ability to amplify both sound and movement should have tipped Saige off before. And the aura itself, well... She could only see it. No other sense of hers would register whatever it was lying behind the bookshelf.

[Dra Nivera]

Dra felt an itch creep into her as the Pycon moved about, seeming to brush aside the tact and grace she had used to start this game. The itch turned to a fire as the little figure swam out to the book as if it were nothing more than a piece of literature. Not the reaction I was hoping for to be sure, she thought to herself, guess something more shock and awe is in order, so be it.

Focusing her Soulmist again, the ghost began to take form, this time choosing one of more vulgar tastes. Her face took on a pale quality, eyes turning black as blood dripped from her lips. A hole opened itself in her chest where the stake had been thrust, revealing the macabre scene of her insides torn asunder. Lastly, she smeared her hands with blood, making her look all the world like a violent poltergeist come to wreak havoc on people.

Perfect appearance, now for effects. Letting her energy release slightly she knew the room would begin to chill at her presence, the torches flickered in her mind and she felt the thrill of the feared. She peeked out at the Pycon and ready herself for her next move, gathering up the energy she could muster, focusing it, harnessing it.

“Who’s there?” the Pycon called out, looking right at her.

Nivera froze where she was, surprise taking her as the figurine stared at her through the shelf. How could this be? She thought frantically to herself, is she a Spiritist? God’s I’ll be dusted for sure, if she could sense me that easy I’m no match for her. Trying to calm herself Dra backed away from the bookcase, her mind searching for an answer, a solution, something to save her.

Then it dawned on her, only a Spiritist with a ready supply of Soulmist or souldarts could truly do her any harm. Peeking again, she saw the Pycon carried no vial or flask for Soulmist, and her bag was far too small to contain enough souldarts to dust her with. So if she was not a Spiritist, that meant she was an Aurist. Well then a scholar and a mage, Nivera thought, so what if you can sense me, it doesn’t mean you can defend against me.

Floating quickly, dropping her visible form once again, the ghost sat on the edge of a ring of light cast by the nearby torch. Gathering her energy for a third time that night she began to feel the exhaustion creep into her slightly, but she put it to the back of her mind as she took full materialization in her gruesome form.

Gathering her power, she stretched it outward in the direction of the torch. It was still too far away for her limited abilities, so she chose a different route. Blinking out of existence, she reappeared right next to the torch and smacked it from its holder to be doused in the water. This made the surrounding area suddenly dark and she used her newfound cover to get close to the Pycon.

Blinking in rapid succession she rushed her prey, projecting her Soulmist downward as she went to splash the water up around her each time she appeared. She stopped directly in front of the Pycon. Nivera leaned down, putting her face extremely close to the horned clay skull of her victim, the dark obscuring the ghosts figure and adding deep shadows to her blood streaked figure.

“I am Dra Nivera,” she whispered to the clay, “neither your books nor your magic will save you now.”

[Saige]

The aura Saige had detected moved from behind the bookshelf, but not the steady movement that should be made by any physical form, and with that it was clear before she even examined the translucent form by the lamp that she was dealing with a ghost. Barely visible even in the torchlight, it was only when the creature willed itself to materialize for Saige that she could see the glorious detail of her macabre visage, the gaping hole through her chest. Her appearance did not go make the statuette's back go stiff, but the vague knowledge that ghosts didn't play well with the living did.

Her eyes struggled to follow the blinking figure, forced to dart about until she was met with a face, her hair flowing in the water around them. Her head alone was Saige's size, who did not move an inch, frozen in fear and indecision. How in the world would she save herself, indeed? All she knew was that she would not give this ghost the satisfaction of rendering her speechless.

"Dra Nivera? I'm Saige," she said nervously, trying hard to keep her low voice from trembling. She did not run. Her small form had no chance of escaping one who was not bound by the laws of physics. Her hand crept behind her, not enough to be obvious, but enough to hide the Res she was accumulating in her hand. She hoped she would not have to resort to fighting with the rock she shaped slowly into her palm, but she would not go down without a fight, either. A smile cracked her lips, nervous, crooked. "You must know I am a mage from when I sensed you earlier. Very observant. Just as I can't help but notice that you haven't ripped my head off yet." If the ghost was angry, Saige would already be dead, so perhaps she could still talk her way out of the current situation.

[Dra Nivera]

“The tearing of heads is so unsavoury,” said Dra, drifting away from Saige slightly, “if you hadn’t noticed I prefer impalement.”

The ghost giggled lightly and shed her ghastly demeanour, returning to her more girlish form. It was enough of a scare for one night she thought, might as well quit while I’m ahead. Fighting was such an unsophisticated things, I hit you, you hit me, now let’s go have drinks. Such a pointless monotony of routine. Dra preferred something of more class, so what if you can beat someone to the ground? The real skill comes if you can strike fear through their hearts without ever even touching them.

It was all about strategy, all about presentation and cleverness. A ghost wouldn’t be around for very long if they just went around tearing people limb from limb at every chance they got. Humming to herself again, Nivera used her projection to lift the book with the Pycon on it to about eye level. A wave of exhaustion hit her and she felt herself blur slightly as she expelled more energy with the action.

“Now my scholar mage,” the phantasm said, “what is it you are doing in such a place at such an hour?”

[Saige]

Saige breathed a sigh of relief when Dra moved away from her and changed her form to something less macabre. The pycon grinned, and let go of the Res ball she had been forming in her hand. It wouldn't have served her much use, anyway. "Impaling, eh? Looks more like it was the preference of your murderer rather than your own."

The Pycon tilted her head, wondering what the ghosts intention was. She didn't seem too adamant on killing her, yet she was the one who had made the threat in the first place. Perhaps in a fit of boredom? Saige was not sure how the psychology of a ghost worked, but at this point was dying to know. She concentrated further on Dra's aura, noticing first that it was calm as could be. Saige could always see the translucent sheet that surrounded an angry or excited person give off strong, erratic vibrations. Dra's was devoid of such activity, and for a supposedly murderous ghost, that was a good sign.

When the book levitated, Saige was taken by surprise and crouched down to keep her balance.. She peered over the edge of the pages, then looked back up at Dra, who had brought her up to face level. She almost didn't seem like a ghost with such a fragile, girlish form, but Saige was reminded of her nature when her body returned to a translucent state for a moment, then back to her solid form.

"Is it not obvious?" She responded nonchalantly, no longer fearful of getting impaled, or having her head torn off. "I am a scholar. I study things. Before your little interruption, I was reading the fascinating journal entry of a priest of Eyris. Or priestess. The writer never mentions anything about themselves." She pondered over that, wondering if she had missed a clue that could have tipped her off as to which gender. "Though, I admit that meeting a ghost is much more fascinating. Say, How long have you been dead?" She stopped, realizing that it may be a touchy subject. She herself would not take kindly to strangers that reminded her of a traumatizing event such as death. "Ah, I'm sorry if I offended you," she continued, explaining herself, "I'm a historian, you see, so I'm interested in these kind of things."

[Dra Nivera]

“No offence taken,” Dra said, putting a hand to her breast in mock shock, “but I am terribly sorry to have interrupted your studies.” Dropping her guise of sarcasm, the ghost giggled as if to some unknown joke.

How long have I been dead now that is a question to ponder, the ghost thought, trying to piece together memories of past events. There was the time of my death, then there was the rage period, then I was calm for years and that’s the start of my memory till now. It puzzled her how she could not recall many events from her rage period, directly after her murder, could she have done something? Shaking her head to clear her thoughts she decided that was a topic best left for another time, and not one to be thinking about in the presence of a mage such as this.

“Let’s see, the year is 512 AV,” Dra started, almost saying it to herself, “and I was born in 391 I think?” Was it really that long ago?

Good God’s I’m old, she thought to herself just as yet another wave of exhaustion swept through her mist. Drifting forward, Nivera placed the book and Pycon on the shelf she had knocked the book from and dispersed her Soulmist more evenly. The ending of her projection would at least buy her a few more minutes fully materialized.

[Saige]

Saige smiled appreciatively at the joke, glad that Dra had at least a small sense of humor on top of not minding a few questions. It was all Saige could do to wait patiently without blurting out more questions before she could even answer the first.

To keep her mind occupied, she collected her djed to focus on the aura further. The ghost seemed distracted, looking out into space. The calm in her aura shifted slightly, and Saige's increasing concentration granted her a strange tingling feeling in her back, and the sensation of... what was it, Anxiety perhaps? Like something was missing, a certain doubt. Then the aura returned to a calmer state as she returned her gaze to Saige.

At first pondering why an age could bring about the discomfort she felt in Dra's aura, Saige's attention returned to the actual age the ghost mentioned. "More than a century ago. You must tell me what it was like to live during such an age," she replied. She regarded her with wide-eyed curiosity, though her stony exterior and unadorned tone revealed little of it.

Dra dropped the Pycon gingerly on a shelf, who took the opportunity to get off the book and sit on the solid wood, legs hanging over the edge as she continued, "It must have been a harder time. Now we have cities, and a little civilization to protect us from the world's perils. I believe the reconstruction required after the Djed storm showed only an inkling of what had to be done after the Valterrian. In 391, resources must have been even more sparse. Am I correct in assuming so?" Saige made many speculations based on her reading, but having a first-hand account of history was more than she could hope for, a chance to obtain more hard facts. She itched to swim back to grab her journal, but the ghosts flickering image gave her the irrational fear that she might be gone if Saige turned her back for even a minute.

[Dra Nivera]

“I’m sorry to say my scholar but I will not be the plethora of information you seek,” Dra said, a moment of sorrow entering her voice, “I was only seventeen at the time of my death, and me and my father lived alone out in the country side. We were simple farmers; it was a hard life, but a good one, very secluded from the perils of the outside world. So I've no knowledge of the history of my own time."

Thinking back again, the ghost tried to focus on memories that seemed faded and worn, the only clear one of her past being the day of her death. Instead of thoughts of pain and anguish she tried to turn her attention to after death, what had she done? What could she have seen? But nothing came to mind except the memory of watching her father burn their house down around him. The only memories she had of being a ghost after that were of a few years back until now.

The concentration began to hurt along with the exhaustion that now pervaded her form. So instead of risking a possibly fatal over stretching of her powers, she released her material form to take on that of her shimmering mist. The anxiety washed out of her and her mind cleared considerably, though a slight soreness still remained.

Hoping she didn’t worry Saige, she quickly said, “Do not fear, I have not left you yet, it is simply hard for me to keep such a form for any period of time.”

Now with a clear mind, Nivera again risked thinking of the past, this time with slightly more results. “There is one thing I can recall from my history that might reveal to you at least a little of what you may seek. I have a song that I carry with me everywhere I go, it is the song I sang just before I was murdered. It is an old song I think, for nowadays I never hear anyone but me sing it. Also, I sing it wrong, there is a part of the song missing I know, I’ve sung it once before, but it is gone from me now.”

Dra turned her gaze downward, though her face was now not visible she knew the Aurist would feel her moment of hesitation, “Would you like to hear it?”