Solo Knowledge Is The Greatest Weapon

[Neive]

　

20th Winter 515av
2nd Bell, Early hours of the morning
Neive's apartment

　
　　Leth’s moon shone faintly through the window opposite Neive’s bed, casting her small, one roomed apartment in a soft, blue rinse. Beneath the covers, the young Inarta tossed and turned, her brow scrunched, tense. Suddenly a high-pitched scream of terror ripped through her lips, “Nooooo!”
　　Bolting upright, her bunched fingers grasping onto fistfuls of her bed linen, she panted for air. Drenched in sweat, despite the freezing temperatures of Winter, the young Inarta’s panic-stricken, cerulean gaze darted around the open space of her apartment. Shadows cast creepy images of creatures she knew weren’t there.
　　She was dreaming about that night again. That dreadful night, full of horror and fear. He had played with her, terrified her and dragged her under the bed – all for laughs. Sighing into her hands, she cupped her face for a moment as she calmed herself, blocking out the murky darkness of her rented space.
　　Neive hadn’t slept, not once since that night, not properly anyway. She’d been on edge, jumpy and often found herself dropping things. Feeling scared and alone of being in a new city by herself was enough to deal with. Being frightened out of her wits and dragged under her bed, being left there to cry and whimper as she begged to go home, begged for her mother, it was inhumane.
　　The ‘it’ from that night had left her alone for a few days after that incident. Although for a few days Neive didn’t return home. She had tried to request another apartment, tried to tell the owners what had happened, but her common was limited and there were no more available rooms. She was stuck with this one, with ‘it’.
　　She had no idea what he was. When she finally had come home, only due to sheer exhaustion of staying awake for several days, wandering the streets of Lhavit. She was thankful this city never slept, it had allowed her the same curtesy. Adrian, he called himself, had been waiting sheepishly when Neive had come through the door, a flower in hand, cup of tea freshly brewed on the table.
　　Wigged out didn’t even cover how she felt. He said he was a ghost, that he had been a man living in Lhavit not that long ago. Neive didn’t know whether to believe him or to believe that she was going crazy. Though, without another witness, she couldn’t fully trust that he wasn’t just in her head. All she knew was, she was stuck with him, for now.
　　Gulping for air, the young Inarta ran her shaky fingers through her hair, brushing the unkempt mass from her face. Opening her eyes, a shadow of a man was sat at the end of her bed, watching her. Neive jumped and almost screamed again, though, she was beginning to get used to him constantly popping up at random times. “You were having the nightmare again. I’m sorry, it’s my fault.”
　　Shooting the wavering shadow a venomous glare she growled, “Yes, it is.” She threw away her covers, the freezing night hitting her soaked skin. Rolling off her bed, she skirted around the man at the end of her bed.
　　Why did she even respond to him? If he was a figment of her imagination, speaking to him wasn’t going to help to get rid of him. Then again, if he was imaginary, then why didn’t he speak Nari?
　

[Neive]

　

　　Frustrated, exhausted, Neive grumbled as she walked over to the lantern on the table, igniting the oil, a warm orange glow leapt to life and illuminated her apartment. Falling into the wooden chair, tucked by the table, she plonked her forehead into her hands and closed her eyes, the remnants of the nightmare slowly diminishing.
　　The shadow at the end of her bed, no longer a shadow, but a man, swivelled on the spot to face her. Neive grouchily peeked over at him to see if he was still there, his face was riddled with regret and guilt and so it should be. “I’m sorry. I will keep saying it, just tell me how to make it better? I already told you I won’t touch you again… I promise.”
　　Neive ignored him, there was nothing he could do to make it better. The young Inarta wanted to scream at him to tear into him and rip him apart, but that would not make her feel better. Besides if he was real, then she would feel awful. She couldn’t do that to someone, real or imaginary. Sucking in a deep breath she waved dismissively, “I, fine.”
　　A half-smile graced the male’s lips, “You still don’t believe I’m real do you?” Neive’s silence was all the answer he needed, a chuckle followed in response, “Well love, hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me. You’re the first person I’ve been able to contact since I died, I ain’t leaving for nothing.”
　　Angered, Neive turned to him, a hot glare peering into his eyes,
“And, how die? Hmm. If real, go on to after life, why stay?”
　　The man giggled, “Your common really is terrible!” He rocked backwards and clapped his knee, Neive only became infuriated and even more frustrated with the man, throwing her hands into the air and turning away to glare out the window. “Ok, ok. I don’t know why. All I know is, I died and I’m stuck here, just like you."
　　This was unbearable. She couldn’t go on the entire season talking to someone she wasn’t even sure was really there. Fear suddenly struck her. If he was a figment of her imagination, then, when she left in Spring to return back to Wind Reach, then… he would surely follow her… Neive threw her head into her hands again, tears forming on the edges of her round eyes.
　　She bit her lower lip to refrain from crying, she couldn’t let him see her this weak, not again. She needed to grasp control of the situation. She needed to make him disappear. A notion suddenly struck her like lightening. This was the city of Lhavit, a city of knowledge seekers, there must be a library, or someone or some place that could help her.
　　Neive quickly glanced out the window and peered up at the sky, it was brightening, it must be early morning, which meant only a few bells until Syna rose and cast the darkness away. It was ridiculous how much Neive feared the dark now. She never had an issue with it before. Damn Adrian and his ‘jokes’.
　　“I, clothes. You leave.” Neive made sure to permeate confidence and authority into her statement. She was still petrified of the man, he had proven what he could do to her all too well.
　　Yet, if she was to take control over the situation, she needed to instil a caste system of sorts between them, just like at home. She was Chiet and she would treat him as a Dek. This helped her rationalise her fears, helped her mortalise him, in her eyes anyway. It also helped her feel closer to home.
　　Surprisingly Adrian complied without even so much as a complaint, disappearing into the night, into thin air. It freaked her out every time. Sometimes she wondered where he went, most of the time she wished he would stay there.

　

[Neive]

　

　　Fully dressed, Neive packed up some essentials (namely her sketch book, charcoal, a full waterskin and her leather pouch full of money) into her rugged, worn backpack and headed out. Thankfully Adrian had made himself scarce, she didn’t want him finding out what she was planning. If he was in fact a Ghost, like he claimed to be, then there must be some weakness, some way of getting rid of him. She had to find it.
　　For the first time since arriving in Lhavit, Neive wasn’t venturing out into the celestial city on a hat-hunt for her father’s lucky possession. She felt so bare without it, her fiery hair fluttering in a wild mess whenever the winds picked up – which was often in the mountains. No, this time she was on a different quest and she was as determined as ever.
　　Making her way down the halls and stairwells to the Solar Winds Apartments reception, Neive paused at the front desk. As the receptionist noticed her arrival, Neive dug out her drawing book from within her pack. “Hello, how may I help you?”
　　“Um..looking for, this” Neive showed the assistant her book and tapped it, “Place with this.” With a thick accent and hesitant, drawled speech, it was more than obvious that Common was Neive’s second tongue.
　　The receptionist looked quite confused, her face contorted with a furrowed brow, “You’re looking for a book shop? To buy?”
　　Neive shook her head patiently, she was getting used to the long ordeal of attempting to communicate with the locals. She found gestures that replaced words she didn’t know to get her messages across were quicker. In this instance she knew one word that might convey her intentions, “No, borrow.”
　　“Ah a library? You’re wanting to know where the library is?”
　　Neive faltered, she wasn’t sure if that was indeed what she was looking for. Without any other options though, she nodded anyway with a gracious smile.
　　The receptionist paused, pursing her lips and looked off to the side as she racked her brain for the nearest and most appropriate location, “Hmmm, I guess the Bharani Library would be your best option. It’s over on the Tenten Peak on the third tier I do believe.”
　　‘Bharani Library, Tenten Peak, third what?’ Neive embarrassedly shook her head, “Sorry. What is tier? Sorry, common is small.”
　　The receptionist giggled making Neive feel all the more foolish for asking. “A tier is a level,” The woman used her hands levelling one above each other, “Different heights above one another,”
　　Blushing in the cheeks slightly, Neive shrunk into herself as she forced a smile and bobbed her head in understanding, “Oh, thank you.”
　　Tucking her weathered, drawing book into the large pocket of her thick, sheepskin Katinu, Neive wrapped her damasked scarf tightly around her neck. Bracing herself to enter into the blistering cold outside, the young Inarta waved her thanks once again to the helpful receptionist and dived into the labyrinth of Lhavit.