Closed Small Things, Big Rewards (Timothy)

[Shalita Farlay]

.

Day 50, Summer, 514 AV

Shalita had been drifting around Kenash for the better part of the day, ghosts rarely slept, or so she had found out within her first day in death after wondering why she didn't feel tired at all. In fact, when she had died, she didn't have any knowledge of the ghostly realm. That was, until she had defied death. Well, she was told that she must have defied death in order to have become a ghost.

Today, the woman appeared as she had when she was still alive, black hair that fell to her waist, deep blue eyes and a simple blue sundress. However, to the normal eye, she was translucent in form and the edges of her appearance some-what blurred. She preferred to float, rather then appear walk, because what the heck, she was dead after-all, why try to be normal when she wasn't?

She had observed many people as they went about their daily business. Shopping for food or for clothes. Slaves doing errands, something that had taken a little time to get used to, seeing as the city she had grown up in didn't have slaves at all. She had even watched a couple taking a stroll through the streets, hand in hand and she had felt the nasty sting of jealousy.

Without even realizing it, her gaze had focused upon a pale purple flower, they reminded her of the race that took away her chances of ever being normal. Symenestras had taken everything from her and all she was left with, was a body that made others cold and it took a lot of effort to even pick up one silly item.

Although, she couldn't blame the flowers for her unlucky demise, they bloomed in full glory, reaching high against a building left unchecked. It was at this point that she decided to take note of the area that she was in. She had been in this area. Perhaps it had been last week? For she had remember those precise flowers before. Were they actually flowers? Or were they something else? A weed maybe? They always grew strong and wild.

Her head angled to the side as she pondered this question for a brief moment, it was then that the name of the island popped up inside her thoughts. Oh, that's right, she was on Dry Island, but this building, she hadn't particular taken note of before, why should she? It was a building out of many in Kenash and she didn't have a real purpose for visiting any of them.

She hovered in front of the building, her form drifting in the center of the street as she studied the building with a little interest. The building itself was some-what elegant in its own right, but she could see why some might over-look it. There were many other interesting stores, this one housed only furniture. She barely even remember her parents ever really bothering to buy furniture in Zeltiva, perhaps business is different in Kenash.

As the line of thoughts began to drift in the direction of her parents, she briefly wondered whether she should send them a letter, but thought better of it. How could she tell them that she had died a horrible death in order to expand the Symenestra race further? Maybe they thought that she had gone off on an adventure across the seas, perhaps that would be best, leave them think that she had abandoned them for an adventure upon the seas.

A sigh settled upon her lips as she began to watch a young boy busy himself with closing up the shutters, it seemed that business was finished for the day. Her gaze followed the boy's movements as she began to wonder about the child she had borne herself, did he or she ever wonder about who carried them into life?

.

[Timothy Mered]

50th Summer 514AV

Tim wrinkled his nose as an overly perfumed lady and her husband went by. The lady, considering herself a person of great importance and a sigil of vivacity, raised her chin and looked the other way while her husband, a tall man with wicked whiskers, shot a look of disdain at the smallest vagabond his eyes had ever seen. "Tuh tuh," he scoffed.

"It's a rubbish shop besides," Tim heard the man say before the couple disappeared around a corner. No matter how desperately he wanted to get away from mind-numbing monotony that Kenashian life had offered him, a flare of anger swelled in the pit of his stomach. Any insult to Jed's Bed and Boxes was an insult to him and had his predicament been any other, such insults would've been met with peppered words, scowls, and quite possibly fists.

Standing on the tip of his toes, he managed to hook the board to the wall and was just preparing to close off the other windows when a gust of cold air made him stop in his tracks. Cold winds were a rare product in Kenash and, much to the annoyance of the patronage, not for sale. Yet there was an stinging chill to the air that seperated this particular cold from any odd breeze. It was the kind of cold that made you think some faceless entity was watching your back. Tim shivered and tightened his collar before he resumed his task. It was only when he turned to shoot a final glance at the deserted streets that he noticed the lady in white.

Presuming her to be of noble birth, Timothy answered her look with a polite bow and asked. "Can I help you Miss?" It was only when he looked up again that he noticed he could look through her. The air around her outline was distorted, like the air above a fire, and he knew she wasn't any normal Kenashian.

Eager to keep a fair distance between himself and the hovering entity, Timothy backed into the shop's wall, arms raised in defense. "Who are you?" he demanded.

[Shalita Farlay]

.

Shalita took notice of the fact that the boy bowed and asked if he could help her, could a boy really help a ghost? Did he even realize that she was a ghost? He was a very polite boy, she would give him that, but why would he bow to her? Those thoughts quickly disappeared as something that looked something like horror, cross his facial features and she watched as he back himself into the wall of the building. Why did they always react like that whenever they found out that she was a ghost? It then got her thinking about possible scenarios. Maybe one day she would randomly appear in front of someone, just to see their reaction.

"Who are you?" The boy demanded as he appeared to raise his arms in defense. Did she look like she was about to attack? All she was doing, was drifting in mid-air in the middle of the stone street, what was so scary about that? Perhaps if she wasn't floating a foot above the street, it might help him adjust to her being a ghost. She figured that he might already know of the simple fact that she was a ghost, which was probably why he was freaking out.

Slowly, her form lowered so then it looked as if she was standing upon the street and she began to walk towards the boy, stopping just a couple of feet away from him. She then held her hands out in front of her form to show him that she meant him no harm. "My name is Shalita, Shalita Farlay. I don't mean you any harm really, I actually just stopped her because of the purple plant. I was trying to decide whether it's an actual flower or a weed."

She angled her head as a gentle smile curved her lips and her blue gaze flickered over his form. He was scrawny for a boy, or maybe because she was ghost now and she didn't really know what was average weight for a human anymore? Oh who was she kidding, she had only been dead for three years and to her, the boy looked awful and skinny.

"I won't hurt you, well, I'll try not to hurt you. I'm told that my touch sometimes hurt other people, but I swear that I only really want to help. If I wanted to hurt you I wouldn't exactly be trying an attempt at talking to you first." She smiled at him again, angling her head again as she watched him for any movements that would tell her that he would run. "So I'll try to keep my hands to myself."

Taking a moment to allow the young boy to take in her words, she gently brushed her hands down the front of her blue sundress that she wore, well, that she always wore. "So now that you know who I am, who are you?"

.

[Timothy Mered]

50th Summer 514AV

Five paces away, she hovered barefooted over the cobblestone road. Black curls curving around her pretty figure. There was something wrong with her. Red stained her blue dress, she reeked of blood, and the air about her was chilling and stern. It was the only thing that betrayed her presence. The only warning he’d gotten. If she’d wanted to harm him, she could’ve done so chimes ago. He knew it was against Yahal’s teachings to be envious and impure, but her ability to move without a whisper was a tempting one.

Instead of paying heed to his amazement, she pointed out the purple flower that he’d passed a dozen times without ever taking note of it. Its green fingers had buried itself into the brick wall, trying to pry the structure apart with dashing purple petals.

“I was trying to decide whether it's an actual flower or a weed."

Her question disarmed him completely. Once he’d had the time to study ants and marvel at flowers, but not in Kenash, even though the city had abundant plants and wildlife. Sunberth, that dreaded sea-swept place, didn’t have fertile grounds, not for anything but crime and squalor. Whatever grew there would shrivel in winter or be trampled by the blood-stained boots of a common thug. Though he hadn’t the pleasure of exquisite food or lodgings, Kenash was much kinder to the senses than Sunberth. Not such a bad place to call home after all.

Tim glanced left and right. The streets basked in golden sunlight and thankfully, not a soul was close by. No sounds came from inside the shop either, yet he shifted his weight uneasily before he decided she didn’t pose a threat after all. “I am Timothy,” he said. “Just Tim.”

Already he could hear Jed scold him for tarrying as he lowered his guard completely, plucked the flower and put his nose in it. Elderberries mixed with honey kicked into his nostrils. Bees would’ve flocked to it if there’d been less mosquitoes and other bothersome insects in the marshlands.

Pulling his nose out, he took a careful step towards the translucent entity with her bright smile and soothing voice. Nothing behind him. Not the voice of Jed lashing out nor the shuffling of old Matilla. He took another step towards Shalita, his breath became a visible fume in her presence.

“Here.” Shivering, he handed her the flower, then froze, his cheeks flushing red as he realized she couldn’t touch anything anymore. “I am sorry,” he said lowly. “Can you smell it at least?”

[Shalita Farlay]

.

The young boy seemed a little nervous to her, but for some reason, she couldn't seem to figure out why. She watched as he cast his gaze down the streets and Shal couldn't help but do the same, was he hiding from some thing or some one, maybe he was being hurt by someone? "I am Timothy, just Tim."

Shalita then watched him pick one of those purple flowers to bury his nose into its petals and another smile found its way to her lips, he was kinda funny in a boyish kind of way. He was just so alert which made her wonder what what was going on within his life to make him so.

He then began to take a couple of steps towards her and she realized that it must have taken a lot of courage to approach a ghost. "Here." he said as he held the flower clasped within his fingers, out to her. He must have realized something, for then he was apologizing and asking if she could smell it.

Angling her head she focused upon the flower as she drew on her soulmist, willing it to activate as she gently reached out to take the flower from the boy's grasp. It took a lot of her concentration to do this, but she manage as she looked back to the boy. "I can pick up some things, it just takes a lot of concentration on my part, however, I cannot smell it. I cannot even feel the warmth of the sun anymore."

She twirled the flower withing her fingers as her blue gaze returned to the flower, twirling it for a brief moment, the colour reminded her too much about the Symenestra race and she couldn't help but mutter in broken symenos. "Colour of death."

It was then that she remembered that she still had company and she allowed the flower to slip from her fingers before she smiled once again. Perhaps she should explain to the boy about why she had done such a thing. "Sorry, it... The colour..." A sigh settled upon her lips.

"The colour just reminded me of the one who killed me and the child that I lost." Her voice was soft as she glanced down the street, a longing look within her eyes. While it was the cause of her death, it didn't mean that she didn't want to know the child, she did carry it after all.

.

[Timothy Mered]

50th Summer 514AV

With icicles for fingers she took the flower from his hands and he was suprised it didn't shrivel in her grasp. Kenash was plenty hot and humid, making your clothes stick to your skin as if you’d dipped them in wax and yet, she was freezing.

"I can pick up some things, it just takes a lot of concentration on my part, however, I cannot smell it. I cannot even feel the warmth of the sun anymore."

"I am very sorry to hear that, Miss Farlay. Though I sometimes wish I couldn't feel the heat either."

Never before had he witnessed someone handle a flower with such grace, as if it was some enchanted treasure, fragile in nature and inmeasurably valuable. But then her features changed. His heart skipped a beat, had he offended her? She looked hurt and on the verge of tears to him, but he had the nouse to not inquire after the possibility of weeping ghosts, she looked quite dreadful as it was.

"The colour just reminded me of the one who killed me and the child that I lost."

Suckerpunched by her revelation, he searched his mind for a proper reply, but could only stumble and stutter. "O-oh." Why was she telling him this? Was her lost child living in Kenash? Perhaps she'd come for him. Stubborn or not, Jed wasn't as chilling a presence as she was, and he dearly prayed she didn't have any more revelations up her sleeve.

Almost he'd turned away from her and abandoned the tormented soul, but halfway through his turn he considered it was a very cruel and very impolite thing to do. A month ago he wouldn't have given a bronze for manners and politeness, but Matilla had insisted upon raising him up and it had been well worth the time. No longer did he receive contemptful looks from customers, no longer did they blow their noses whenever they saw him. Thanks to Matilla he had learned to become invisible to Jed's customers. He was either an unknown in the back of the shop or the boy that held the Missus's gloves or kept an eye on Mister's coach.

"Why are you here?" he asked the ghost. "If you smell, eat, or drink, coming to this city will only make you feel terrible."

He picked up the flower from the ground. It was still beautiful, but somehow dulled. Not quite unlike her, Tim thought. The ghost too was nice to look at and he imagined she had been a very pleasant person before her death. But, like a plucked flower, she was no longer rooted to this world and her color had drained. She looked away from him now, as if she'd already given up on him. Weeks ago he'd considered himself the most wretched, miserable person he knew, but now he realized he'd been sorrily mistaken. Eager to bring a smile to her lips Tim said, "There was a man the other day with cheeks the size of mutton chops and much more...substance broad-wise than length-wise." He sniggered as he remembered the scene. Even Sander had laughed about it, afterwards of course. "He didn't fit through the door," Tim continued. "Not by himself at least. I had to push."

"Tim, shutters!" Matilla's voice called from inside the shop. She had a way of sounding kind and stern at the same time. His smile drowned in his usual, serious expression and he jumped into action at once, not even sparing a tick to explain himself to Shalita.



Matilla and SanderMatilla and Sander are Jed Radacke's NPCs whom he/she has allowed me to use

[Shalita Farlay]

.

Shalita felt almost invisible once again to the boy as he began to turn away from her and she wondered if perhaps mentioning anything about her past life was a mistake. What else was a ghost suppose to talk about? The weather? Maybe she should talk more about Kenash, seeing as they both lived there.

"Why are you here?" The boy asked her. "If you smell, eat, or drink, coming to this city will only make you feel terrible." Why was she here? Indeed a question that put her off guard, perhaps she should go elsewhere? Her gaze drifted away from the boy as she began to think of the reasons why she was here.

She was here because she refused to give up on a life she once had, she was here because her life was cut short by a Symenestra and she had come to Kenash, because... She paused in this line of thought as she attempted to think of why she was in Kenash. Was the boy trying to tell her that she shouldn't be here?

"There was a man the other day with cheeks the size of mutton chops and much more...substance broad-wise than length-wise. He didn't fit through the door, not by himself at least. I had to push." She managed a smile for the boy, but her form was already beginning to start floating a foot above the street once again.

Why was he talking now? Wasn't the boy about to turn away from her just before? Was he trying to make her laugh? Wasn't it he who just asked her why she was here? He is just a boy, she told herself, but even boys were fun to a degree. Plus, she began to think to herself, he was slightly smart, maybe as the living he saw things a little differently then she.

A voice called from within the shop and her gaze drifted passed the boy to the door of the shop. He was a worker within the shop? Wasn't he too young to work? She remembered when she was a child herself, that she spent her youth growing up on the streets of Zeltiva and it appeared that this boy did not have the chance to do such a thing, perhaps it was because of the odd mark upon his face.

She angled her head to the right as she watched the boy set about closing up the shutters and she began to drift backwards for a couple of feet before she stopped. Perhaps being locked up with only a visit from a Symenestra had made her a little recluse. That wasn't possible, she had struck up conversation with the boy hadn't she? Perhaps if she did more of these type of things, that maybe she wouldn't feel so dead.

Slowly approaching the boy, she watched him begin to put the shutters up and drawing upon her soulmist, she watched him set about the task, before she mimicked him. Helping him close the shutters up for the shop. Once they were done with the task she smiled at him and waved a hand in the direction of the empty street. "Would you like to come for a walk with me?"

.

[Timothy Mered]

50th Summer

Aside from a small smile, she didn't seem to enjoy his story very much. In fact, she didn't seem to enjoy much at all and her form looked even more vale and faded than it had before. So when he returned to closing the shutters, he was surprised that she joined him in the effort, and a little worried too. What would Jed, Matilla, or Sander think of it if they saw her? He supposed they couldn't really stop her. She was already dead. Yet, that made him all the more worried for his own saftey and he redoubled his efforts to get the task finished as soon as possible.

"Would you like to come for a walk with me?"

Yes, he would like to, but he couldn't. He wasn't allowed. But inside of him, in the pit of his stomach, a little fire was rekindled. "I don't know," he said softly. Sighing, he walked towards the shop entry but stopped two feet short of the door. "I would've walked with you if I could, but my Master wouldn't like it very much I think." Once more he pressed onward, and once more he stopped, hand hovering over the door handle. "I wish I could help you too, Shalita. It was nice to meet you."

[Shalita Farlay]

.

Shalita didn't know where she was going wrong, did she just suck at interacting with children? Perhaps was it best that she had died before she had met the child of her and the blood of its father? Children, what did they like? He seemed more sad than anything and she wanted so badly to help the poor boy. She reached out to pick one of the purple flowers and tossed it at the boy, hoping that it might have landed upon his shoulder. Sadly, the flower only landed a foot away from the boy and she cursed in symenos. "Damn flower." It had been, as she figured, a little too light for her wanted purpose. Maybe she should get a dagger of sorts, just to throw it so then it would hit a door frame, just to grab the attention of the wanted person.

"I'm a little beyond helping." She said softly, her gaze watching the boy for a moment and she angled her head to the side as she clasped her hands behind her back. "But, maybe, there might be something that I can help you with? She paused for a moment before she began to edge towards Tim, her drifted steps, pausing for only a moment as she took in the boy's form. He seemed defeated in a way, why was that exactly? Was his master harsh upon him? A smirk slipped onto her lips then, "Perhaps I can haunt your master, make him regret being mean to you, I can be pretty scary."

She shook her head at this, while she didn't mean to be scary to people, they just seemed to jump. Why? She wasn't exactly 100% sure, however, sometimes it made for quite the entertainment. While she could jump through walls to scare people just for the sake of it, she still liked doors. Perhaps it was some odd human activity that she just couldn't quite let go of yet, there was something about privacy that she liked when dwelling in her own thoughts. Well, at least the living couldn't disturb her when she wanted a moment to be alone.

.

[Timothy Mered]

50th Summer 514AV

Once more, he faltered, pulled back by the almost pleading tone in her voice. Why did she want to help so badly? He didn't need her help or anyone else's! Jed was his problem, not hers, not that of Matilla or Sander either. Frozen, back turned towards the ghost, he remained. The left side of his noggin pushed him forward, the right side tugged him back. Clutching his fists, he slowly turned around. "I don't won't your help," his voice as cold as the ghost before him. Sighing, his shoulders slumped even further and he dropped to one knee to pick up the flower. All colour had drained from it and he couldn't stand to look at it. "Sowry," he murmured as he rose again. "But you can't 'elp me. You're dead. You can't do a ting."

A cold tingle crept through his veins as he slurred the words. And with every tick he lingered, he began to regret them more and more. Green eyes glanced up at the pale figure with the stained dress. She was dead. She'd been killed before her time and now she wandered around aimlessly, forced into a live of inability. She was just another kind of slave...

Either she was a very good, very well-intending lady, or she was more devious than a mage, and he simply couldn't decide which one she was. Sunberth was a different place, no doubt. But he couldn't simply bypass the very first rule he'd grown up with: do not trust strangers. Never.

"I cahn't walk with you Miss. I dun wont too," he whispered. Just a chime ago he'd been smiling and laughing, but now he couldn't remember why. He bit his lower lip. "D'you know how I got 'ere?" Before she could answer, he stepped closer. "On a ship, tsjained to strangurs. One night, there was a storm. Watur came in, and I cahn't move." His knuckles turned white hot, nails digging into his palms. He stepped even closer now, close enough to walk through her with one stride. "People are a-screaming, te ship goes this way then that. "Free offus drowned."

He rubbed his eyes with his sleeves, but they kept on burning, the salty water etching clear stripes on his dust-ingrained cheeks. "You frightun me because you're cold and dead, and..." he dried his eyes, "you shouldn't be 'ere. You can't love, you can't marry, you can't do any'ting anymore and you cahn't help me."

NoteThe accent is an experiment. They aren't typos. I felt really bad writing this, but I just didn't see him accept Shalita's help.