The Third Chance (Ark)

[Seven]

6th Winter, 510 AV

Seven calmly ventured though Zeltiva, the port city and widely acclaimed educational center had a lure of the ghost. For, as in life, knowledge is power, and did Seven like power. He had no fantasies of going to the university and signing up for a course, no, that wouldn't do. He would learn by observation, by closely watching the humans. Well, the majority.

The ghosts form was almost invisible, for the energy it took to get out from his prison finally hasn't quite returned yet. He could be seen, but just barely. The dark soulmist would look like a dieing shadow, the see though stuff so faded that one would really have to look to see that there was a ghost there at all. His weakness irritated him, but for now, it had to be tolerated. It all will return in time. Time restores all, good or ill, and has no prejudice for the old or young to those who time has run out. Death will take all those that time has grown bored of.

He had come here in hopes of not only obtaining knowledge but to hone his skills as well. His ghostly abilities, and the magical skills he had held in life, were rusty and needed some major training before he can be who he once was again and continue to claim his revenge. There was just something about being sealed away that really drained one of the power that they once had. It was just as annoying and just as inconvenient as it seemed, and he cursed those who did so. To bad they had passed on long ago, but that doesn't mean he couldn't fight them again, no. He could easily kill their kin, and maybe their reincarnated forms. There will be vengeance and blood yet. The time is not now.

A small, quaint, rather thoroughly destroyed cottage caught his eye. Impressive, it is, the power of fire and the utter destruction that it leaves in its path. Mostly standing, but obviously touched by flames hand he wondered what happened, and why he hadn't got there sooner. He could have helped the place the place burn. If you are going to set a place on fire, do it right, and make sure that nothing is left standing. Not like this, no, the ghost shook his head in a disagreeing fashion.

It was interesting though, how such a city of knowledge would let a decrepit building stand. Why not tear it the rest of the way down and start anew? It was taking up valuable space, and wasn't needed, but, then again, it was just like Seven to get rid of everything that wasn't needed in his book. It was rather wasteful, and waste, just like all the other trash, needed cleaning up. He would lend a helping hand, but he was far too tired to begin to tear down anything; not to mention that his abilities haven't fully come back to him yet.

It could be a great place to rest up. Yes, a perfect place to rest up. To gain some power back, and with it some of his ego too. Deciding that this, seemingly abandoned place, was to be his new place to rest, at least for now, he hovered over there. His ghostly form becoming more obvious as he entered the shadows of the place. If it wasn't being used, then he would use it.

[Ark]

"Ring a ring of Rosie" the soft droplets of speech dibbled coyly from the broken lips of the transparent soul, whom was resting (rather sulking) under a support beam that had collapsed; completely oblivious to the presence of anything else in existence. With a heaving sigh the boy glanced off at the ruined wood of his old home, trying to remember why he even bothered sticking around for so long. Then the memories dripped out of the ashes; the fire he had never witnessed, the blood stains of whatever creature seemed to rip him to shreads. He could never recall what truly was, what actually happened to him here, but the feeling of wanting to forget stuck harder a blow then wishing to remember. The dead youth shook his head, as if it would give some type of mystical cure to forget everything. Of course it wouldn't. Then; the shadow came into his view. Just a little glance. Harmless, practically unnoticeable; but still the urge of something clearly different. It nagged at him uncontrollably, the feeling of presents. The youthful Soul's guard quickly shot up, alarmed with the possible presents of another. Slowly, surly, he poked his head out from his cover of the beam, surveying the land he had come to know so well. Then he was caught, now fixated in view. something odd, he had never seem anything like this before. Knowledge hit so quickly, the mist, the essence this creature was emanating, it was just like his own. Granted, it was much bleaker in colour, but still the same concept. And the creature had an ability of 'flight' as well; was this what he thought it to be? Was this another Ghost? "It couldn't be, I am the only one to befall this horrid fate" He mumbled to himself in a fit of anger. The boy refused to believe that others where trapped in the same hell. It simply could not be true. And then the idea was conceived, almost in a split second. The Ghost would scare off the other creature. With something of a reassuring deep inhalation, the soul dematerialized himself, becoming completely naked to the human eye. Slowly he floated over, trying to be as unnoticeable and stealthy as possible before reaching his destination; in front of this creature of man. The lips cracked and smirk revealed in the awkward pleasure of horrifying another. In a quiet, soft, angelic youthful voice, the word flew strong as an arrow. "Boo."

[Seven]

The ghost entered the place unaware of anything too out of the ordinary. It seemed just like a burnt place would, messy, and some charred places, but still wasn't worth saving in the ghosts mind. It could be torn down in a number of days, and there still was some salvageable wood here and there. Could turn some sort of profit from it. If it wasn't for his disconnectedness towards people and the world and if he was still living he might consider taking on the project himself.

Seven just stopped and observed the new place. His floating soul attempting to get some rest as he hovered there so easily. Such an ability ghosts had, and many more. Most of them though, out of practice. Yes, he was painfully out of practice and needed to gain back his much needed skill. Though first he would need to rest and get his power back, or at least enough to practice with. Here he would rest.

The ghost didn't jump, no, not when the other appeared in front of him. He was, in death, how he was in life not very easily scared and very much like a rock when it came to things jumping or appearing out of nowhere. "Boo?" He asked, his voice sounded rough; having a darker tone to it, the sound itself didn't seemed impressed. "A ghost trying to scare a ghost?" He laughed, "Boy, you are going to have to try harder than that to scare a ghost."

Although he laughed he didn't seem the slightest bit amused, "Am I to assume this is your house, spirit?" It was weird for him to address another ghost. He was the only ghost that he was aware of, though he wasn't foolish enough to believe that he was the only one. He knew of their abilities and he wondered how far along this particular spirit was in the terms of power. Looks, even in life, can be deceiving towards one true abilities.

One glance at the younger looking ghost could tell some of the more powerful emotions of hate and despair didn't grip him. The soulmist of him was, for the most part or for as much as he could tell, clear. Then again, he has been away for quite some time and if the ghost was advanced enough and indeed powerful he wondered if they could hide their true nature.

[Ark]

In horror, the youthful spirits eyes widened, frozen to where he levitated. Fear had stricken him. Hard. It was as if Lady Dira had personally ripped that once beating heart from his chest, and laughed as the life from his eyes faided. And sadly; some deep part of believe that she true was laughing at him. His humility. His shame, and most certainly; his fear. His fear of another whom shared them same forsaken fate. But these emotions where soon dropped. Forgotten practically as soon as they had shown there faces. Here was another soul, whom must had something in common with the youth. He must have some understanding of how horrid this live could be. In an oddity, he had noticed that his hazel orbs just stared blankly at the other being for quite the awkward amount of time now. This was rather embarrassing, and if the cheeks he possessed could turn colour; most certainly they would. So in respect of the question (which admittedly; it slipped his mind for a moment), the child soul nodded its head in approval. Though in honesty, he wouldn't even call it much a house; more like a scaring memory that you dwell on for twenty good years. And as blurred memories took back there place in his mind; he heaved a sigh, cutting cleanly from pale lips. And now, though moments passed longer once more in silence, questions pressed on the mind of the child. just who was this man; and why would even bother traveling to this area, more importantly, why would he stay in such a desolate location? This place was a sham! The structure was bound to cave in sooner or later.. Which honestly raised the question; why? The youth hesitated slightly; taking the time to pick the proper words, trying not to strike the man articulately. "Not to offend, Sir.. But, if I may, why are you in my home?"

[Seven]

Seven continued to look at the youth before him. The ghost seemed terrified for some reason, though Seven didn’t mind this life, his ‘fate’. To him, he has beaten reincarnation and now is free to wander the lands without the restraints of a physical body, but there always was a tradeoff it seemed. With his new ghostly form came a new set of restrictions and rules governing not only his appearance but abilities as well. It was fair enough, equivalent exchange, so to say, but not to Seven. No, the ghost much preferred this state of being. It was worth the price of death, but that doesn’t mean that he never wants a body… That is what possession is for.

The ghost, in response to the question asked of him, took another look around the place. This is his house, a hidden smile would spread across the hooded face, “I didn’t mean to be rude.” He started. There was no reason to make enemies with another ghost, no, especially in the weakened state he was in right now. “I believed this place to be abandoned.” He explained, tone unchanging, “If you wish, I can leave.” He was in no state to put up any sort of fight and could easily find another place to rest and regain his powers. This place was just a… Was just assumed uninhabited.

He watched the other for a reaction, any reaction. He wondered how someone so young could be so dead, but, then again, both death and time don’t discriminate. It just must have been his time, in one way or another. Did the youth die in the fire? Or maybe it happened after he was long past. Seven sure didn’t know, but then why did he even bother thinking about this place anyways. He should be concentrating on gaining his lost power back.

Earlier he had noticed the other staring at him but thought nothing really of it. Even the living stared. It must be how he chooses to present himself. Not like he cared. He ghost lifted a translucent hand and looked at it for quite some time as if he were deep in thought. Is this what he has become? Some sort of monster? No. He is a victim of circumstances, a product of the darker side of humanity, and soon everyone will reap what they sow. He will no longer be the victim because in death he has eluded fate itself and the cycle of reincarnation. He is now free, truly free, from the shackles of the gods and the order of the universe, and with this freedom he plans to write a bit of history himself untouched by the grand plan of fate.

[Ark]

"NO!" The screaming thought bursted out from the Ghost child's very thoughts; tearing cleanly through non existent, cold lips. I refuse to let him go! I refuse to be alone! It was blatantly obvious to how he felt to even the dismissal of the other; for the boy reacted quickly in a rather inappropriate manner. Slender, nonphysical arms out stretched to grasp the other, not wanting to let the only other one he knew of whom shared the same fate leave his 'life' so quickly. Clearly, this was a stupid idea. For how can on grasp something with no actual weight? Especially, when one himself had non of his own. This lead to the youthful falling cleanly though the other, as if nothing else but air had been there. If cheeks could turn colour.. Way to look like an idiot.. Embarrassed, the youthful looked up at the other, regaining balance in the air. Words tumbled out his mouth, forming an awkward jumble rather then much a sentence "Y-you are by no means being r-rude, sir.. P-please, won't you s-stay a while?" This was the pitiful attempt to make something of communication, and an even more depressing attempt at have persuade company. He knew he must have sounded desperate to the other, be he simply could not let it go. He wanted, needed, to learn more about himself. Then, like the fool he was, he noticed that spirit before him look little human at all, nor like any other denominated race that he had come to know in all of his existence. What was he? Though still embarrassed of actions he had preformed mere moments ago, his curiosity sky rocketed as his eyes once more started to travel over the others features. "If you don't mind me asking you s-sir.. But what exactly are you..?" The words unfolded in something of a soft tone, trying to say it as politely and non offensively as possible; though he well knew, sometimes there was no way of saying something without hurting another. And as the words broke free from his lips; he held regret, ashamed of himself, realizing just how insensitive he actually sounded. the apology seemed to come as second nature "I'm sorry.."

[Seven]

"No?" He asked grinning under the shadow of his hood now as he watched the other go though him. That kind of made Seven wonder how alone the ghost really was, and for how long he had been alone. Though, he wasn't going to ask, no, at least not now. It seemed to soon to be asking such questions. Especially to someone of who you do not yet know their name. Not that names are important, no, names are just words, and like all words, are given meaning by the people speaking them. Names are both useless, but the reputation behind the name, the meaning associated with the name, that is what counts. Fame...

"Fine." Seven said, "Ill stay." He decided. It was going to be for the better? He could use some company, and maybe even a partner. Some to have your back sounded good. The fist two times he was sealed away was because he wasn't powerful enough on his own. It was evident that he needed to make some changes, and this change could be quite... interesting. He would observe. For now, that is, to see if he really wants offer this ghost companionship.

He stood in silence in the next question that was asked of him. It was one he often asked himself. His identity was lost so long ago and his form too was smeared with the remembrance of too many forms, along with the high toll of overgiving even his soul was warped. "What am I?" He repeated the question slowly as if to be sure he had heard it right. "No, don't be sorry." He said. "I was human, at one point." He informed him, "But now... I am Seven, but, in truth, Im not even I am sure exactly what I am. Inhuman? Perhaps.... Maybe, Im nothing at all; a soul warped by the very ambition of man and the product of forces out of even the most skilled wizards control... I guess what I am is up for debate. If you think you have an answer, kid, then I would like to hear it." He stopped there. That was plenty for now. Perhaps a change of subject?

"I am Seven." He introduced himself again to the young ghost, "May I ask your name?" There were other questions that he wanted to ask, but this was a good start.

[Ark]

Silence crawled under the skin of the youth, though the other acted nothing over it, he knew that he must have struck some nerve in him. And to tell truth is was rather insensitive to be asking such things before he even knew the name of his newly found 'companion'. Shame hung over his head for the moment, to think he was calling his new acquaintance inhuman. What would that make of himself then? Was he inhuman? Granted, he had more of the appearance then the soul that was before him, but honestly? He couldn't say now, not in good faith.. But emotion presented itself anew. 'Seven?' this was an interesting name. Rather a number of categorical placement, surely a mother or father wouldn't name one as such. But he dare not open his mouth again to ask such trivial, personal things; perhaps his tongue would bite him again. And he most certainly did not one to offend one he just received company from! Seven's question blindsided the boy. Name? The youthful spirt open his mouth ready to calmly reply to his house guest. Reality made its collision. Name..? The boys mouth still a gap as his stare sank downward. This was beginning to hurt. How could he simply forget something as important as his name? The question seemed to drag out in his mind, ravaging it. Name?! Passive hands grasped his head and shook it wildly, flinging around the fringe of chestnut locks, the question was now demanding its answer. The pain was unfathomable, and before he had come to know it, he had lost control of what his mind let him blurt out. His words once more broke free "I don't know! I don't know!" it was agonizing, unbearable even "I can't remember Seven!"

[Seven]

The ghost watched the other for an answer, the darkness surrounding him seeming to grow just a bit darker as he waited, as if inpatient for an answer and somewhat annoyed that the question wasn't answered immediately. Though this wasn't the case it just had a unbreakable habit of darkening just the slightest when there was no excretion of ghostly abilities. This, contrary to what it looked like, was a good thing. It showed that his soulmist, slowly, was restoring to its formal glory.

A mix of emotions struck Seven as he heard the youths pleas and cries that he couldn't remember his name. He felt for him, not remembering his own name himself, and he decided that he would help the ghost in what ever way possible. There need not to be another Seven. One, as he was sure many people would agree, was good enough for the world.

The ghost extended a hand and slowly placed, the best he could, on the other ghosts shoulder, trying to be of some comfort, "Calm yourself." He said simply, "It will come to you eventually. Don't worry about it. Im sure it would all come back." Maybe this is why the ghost is bound to this world? Unable to move on because the loss of his past? Maybe, but there seemed to be more to this. "What are names anyways?" He tried to downplay the lack of remembrance, "I see you as the fine" He was trying to be extra cheery for the distressed ghost, "young man standing before me. NOT as a name nor a number, but an individual." He could be nice when the time needed, especially to ghosts.

There was a silence in the room for a while before he spoke up again, "How about this" he began, "You choose a new name for yourself to go with the new existence that you have obtained?" Yet another hidden grin would smear across his face, "And with this new name forget the past and focus on the future and all the possibilities. Focus on the meaning of the new chance you are given and the abilities that we possess that can only be given by death." He was trying really hard here to focus on the positive, "You seem to have been here for quite some time, and its evident that this place is making you a little crazy. Too much history perhaps?" He was making blind stabs in the dark, "Why don't you leave behind your former life, leave behind this place that binds you in loneliness and travel and explore the world with me?" This was simply the best offer he could give the ghost, and the best way to get the most out of the lad as well. Hand still remaining in place 'on' the ghosts shoulder he watched him, broodingly, waiting for an answer, a response. Maybe he asked too soon?

[Ark]

Perhaps it was too soon, at lest sooner then even he thought. Though he truly knew it was not Seven's fault, even he never would have guessed to how unprepared he really was for such things things, it didn't seem like it really mattered to him anymore; Which evidently was very incorrect. Apparently it mattered more then he cared to know, perhaps subconsciously, it was truly what he dwelled on. Simply not knowing his name clearly was more enough to take great effect on the lad; continuously screaming in blood ridden pain. The agony was too much to bear. To much for a mind to conceive. But feelings of depression subsided for a brief moment. In that instant, he could feel. Gentle affection softly embraced dematerialized flesh and blood for only a mere moment; but the feeling of it was perfection. The boy indulged himself in the simple touch, screams of horrible pain had cease completely; enveloped in the moment of something amazing. Twenty year. Twenty long, painful, bleeding years. The pleasure was unfathomable. Slowly, hazel peepers raised to meet the possessed ones of the newly befriended, his body shook softly as 'life' began refilling. His words where soothing, like a mother cooing that of a frightened child. "Fine young man..?" The words breathed life there own, though oppressed by trembling body. "A new name..?" The idea was simple, and perfect. Simply perfect. The boy nodded his head in approval, though it pained him deeply to let go of his past, he looked for something of a redemption. "Will that be alright? Can I really have a new name..? Can I really obtain a new existence like this, Seven..?" The youth pleaded, but it was unclear to whom he actually was trying to reach; Seven, or himself.