Closed Leaving Sanity (Madeira, Jomi)

[Roland Eir]

If Roland had spent much time looking into a mirror, he would have recognized those eyes. The thirst for knowledge of the unknowable and the forbidden. Given what she had just said about the Alvads' fears of magic, she was now labeling herself--what had she said?--"Nothing less contemptible than a criminal." But he knew something of being a criminal. Sitting here discussing the taboo in hushed tones at the back of drug den, he felt uncomfortably at home. It was like being a child again, standing at the edge of the room watching his father and his gang talk shop. But now he was grown, and it was him doing the talking. "I really don't know... anything." It wasn't a lie, not really. "I heard about Reimancers a long time ago, in Syliras. People who could throw fire from their hands and mold earth out of nothing. Then I was lucky enough to meet one near Riverfall." Those were peaceful times. Maybe too peaceful for someone so restless. "I wasn't able to learn from her, or be "initiated" as they called it. But I saw its results." Now came the hard part. "And I'm afraid I'm not a mage. I'm just fascinated by them." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I've... read about the subject. I mean, I'm no scholar, but I've looked into it a bit. Magic is so powerful, and I'm a man with so little, it would be am amazing to think that was something I could do." Roland was by no means an excellent liar. His gut twisted with guilt as he spoke, and his eyes dropped to the table. In Sunberth he'd been caught using magic. He'd barely escaped with his life. Obviously he needed to be more careful, even here. He'd given away too much already, if she'd fingered him for a mage. Thinking back throughout the day he realized what a fool he'd been. Dropping everything to come to this city, not knowing even the most basic facts about it. He tucked away the new knowledge about Ionu, adding it to his fledgling list of gods and goddesses throughout Mizahar. Finally she placed he dish in front of him. Picking one up between his thumb and forefinger he eyed it quizzically. Was he meant to swallow it. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed, catching whiff of a pungent odor over the myriad smells of the Unnamye. Without a second thought he placed it back on the dish. "Not a chance." He slid it back across the table. "I'm not a fan of poison." What was she trying to pull? As if anyone would be foolish enough to drop their guard around someone they'd met so recently. And this... He remembered his father stumbling home after a late night, his eyes red and his mouth caught up in a stupid grin. He remembered his mother shouting at him. He tried not to remember anything else. There was no way in all Mizahar she would get him to swallow that pill. Word Count: 512

[Madeira Dusk]

Almost as soon as it showed itself, the spark in Madeira's eyes sputtered and died. He knew nothing of the craft, he was just a man with big dreams looking for a leg up. And she had been so sure...

Suddenly he was no longer looking her in the eye. His gaze dropped to the table and the little black pills, and there was something shifty in his sudden interest. Her eyes narrowed.

Are you a liar, Roland Eir?

It was not unheard of to come across magic in books. Just because the Sunken Conundrum didn't carry any didn't mean the other cities didn’t either. But to have travelled so far, from Sunberth to Syliras to Riverfall, searching for magic, and having admit to have met a Reimancy user... No, she internally admonished herself. She wanted him to be a mage so badly that she was looking for any excuse to doubt that he wasn't one. If he said he was just a seeker, than that was all he was. The Craven seemed to deflate under the disappointment.

He examined the pill minutely, then pushed it back, stating flatly that he would not take it.

"Don't be an idiot", she pushed it back, perhaps a little harder than necessary. The pills rattled together in their dish. "You wanted to get around Alvadas? Here's how. It'll make you see this city as we do.” But even as she said it, the stubborn look in his eye told her it was no use. His behaviour before came rushing back. He did not like strangers, and he certainly would not take anything a stranger gave him. “Please", she pleaded.

As she watched his closed face and stubborn eyes, her disappointment began to curdle into anger. She was practically saving his life here, or at the very least his sanity, all out of charity and he didn't even have the sense to take it. She had explained the rules, explained everything, and he had given her absolutely nothing in return. Not even his trust.

Are you a liar, Roland Eir?

Well, if he didn't have the sense to take her help when offered, she was going to force it on him. It was for his own good.

Her smile came back, with an edge of forced cheerfulness that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Since you're so interested in the subject, why don't I show you some of my magic?"

She pulled her cane over top of the table without waiting for his reply, and gave the top a firm twist. She pulled the head out several centimetres to reveal a portion of the hidden blade inside. Rolling up her sleeve, exposing a forearm thatched with thin white scars, she sliced a shallow cut across her wrist. As she shook several drops of blood onto the table she closed her cane and tucked it away.

"This is called ‘invoking'" she explained, rolling down her sleeve again. "You take some blood, it has to be your own, and you draw this symbol with it." she scribbled a lopsided sixteen point star in the rapidly congealing fluid. "Then you take some willingly offered soulmist… Soulmist is what a ghost is made of. It’s what survives when the body dies.” She worked one of her rings off her hand, an elaborate silver confection with a large onyx stone set in the centre. "It's hollow", she explained shortly, dropping it into the centre of her star.

"Then this is the difficult part. You have to use the soulmist you have, to call the soulmist it came from. Watch." The spiritist closed her eyes, feeling for the edges of the soulmist in the ring in front of her. Using the power of her own soul, she dragging the owner across the space separating him from this part of his soul. And when she was ready, when she had opened that connection, she evoked him with his name.

"Jomi!"

The sudden drop in temperature, and the crackling of energy across her skin, told her that it had worked. But she didn't open her eyes. Madeira hid her face in her hands, ashamed about what she was about to do.

"It's for your own good." she pleaded with Roland. "You will understand."

Then she spoke to Jomi, and her voice was firm and ringing with authority.

"Jomi, he needs help taking his medicine."

Word Count: 731

[Jomi]

A confused ghost blinked into existence on top of the table, facing Madeira. The thick white smoke that perpetually hung in the low ceiling of the Unnamye swirled chaotically from the sudden disturbance. Jomi’s soulmist seized as he gave the area a quick scan, taking in the low-lit room and bright colourful fabrics before his dark eyes settled on the odd man sitting across from his Master. He had the look of a world weary traveller, wrapped in a blanket of paranoia. His body and posture was stiff and nervous with wide blue eyes that immediately locked onto his own coal black ones.

“Jomi, he needs help taking his medicine.”

Before she had even finished Jomi’s soul mist swirled excitedly and his mouth split into an smile that showed an unsettling amount of teeth.

Jomi’s form dissolved into a shapeless haze as he shot towards the scruffy stranger, entering through his chest and tackling his soul. Newcomers and tourists to Alvadas were easier targets for possession than the average Alvad. Having the law of physics and sanity turned on its head tended to leave ones mind more fragile and a easy target for the restless dead.

Roland’s body jerked and spasmed as the two souls battled for control. Jomi wrapped himself around bone and muscle, expanding to fill his new container and pushing his panicked host's soul to the side. Roland’s vision darkened and blurred as Jomi’s soulmist reached into his eyes and filled them with his presence. All at once the jerking stopped as Roland’s body slumped forward and hit the table, making the tiny dish and pills jump at the impact.

A brief tick passed before the invading ghost rolled his host's head and pushed him up off the table. He opened Roland’s mouth and clumsily grabbed at the three black pills, using his newly acquired fingers to push them into the back of his throat and swallowing hard.

Once the pills were gone Jomi lifted his hosts hands toward his face, turning them over and flexing the fingers. Blood welled up on the knuckle of the index finger where it had been scrapped against his teeth. Jomi couldn’t feel the sting of torn skin but he still had an odd feeling of fascination as he watched the drop trail down his wrist. He’d almost forgot what it was like to pilot a solid breakable body.

“Huh, neat.” Roland’s head turned toward Madeira and flashed her that same toothy smile.

“I hadn’t pegged you for the bleeding heart type. Are you collecting strays now?” The hands rose and started pulling and prodding at his face, exploring his new body. A streak of blood trailed up Roland cheek as Jomi pinched his cheekbones, enjoying the novelty of the resistance the flesh gave to the prodding hands.

[Roland Eir]

Her new smile set him on edge immediately. Her pale eyes, hooded in the darkness of the Unnamye, betrayed nothing of her purpose as the cane hit the table with a staccato clack. Under normal circumstances, Roland would have been happy to learn about new magic. As the blade was revealed, however, he swiftly sat up and away. His eyes flicked across the room to the cracked green door, suddenly so very far away. But she didn't use the blade on him. The sword sliced evenly across her pale skin, exhuming a few ruby droplets. Roland watched the ritual in macabre fascination, drinking in every detail. The old warnings from Sunberth echoed in his mind, but he ignored them. She had some unknown purpose in showing him her magic, but if she thought he wasn't paying attention she was sorely mistaken. The symbol was etched into his mind, and though he didn't understand exactly what soulmist was he would not forget it. "Then this is the difficult part. You have to use the soulmist you have, to call the soulmist it came from." Wait, what? "What are you doing?" Roland demanded. She called out the spirit's name, and Roland swallowed as a chill passed over him. Before Roland could demand she halt, a new being was hovering on the table over them. Coal black eyes and matching hair that hung far past his shoulders, and a cruel toothy smile that set Roland's heart beating erratically. "Jomi, he needs to take his medicine." Roland dropped his gaze to Madeira in disbelief. All this for those pills? Fear twisted into anger, and Roland dug deeply into himself. He scratched the surface of his djed, like fingers on the surface of a pond, and pulled. There was no telling what her new friend could do, but Roland was determined to fight his way out of there. But before he could tie that djed to himself, the ghost was shooting through the air and into his body. Fighting back panic, Roland unleashed a flood of djed throughout his system. The typical seizure-like movements of possession were multiplied as soulmist fought djed for control. Bit by bit Roland's djed was pealed back from his muscles, replaced by the essence of this spirit called Jomi. Within moments, it was forced back into Roland's soul or expended as raw energy. Horrified by his own weakness and the presence of this invader within his body Roland's mind recoiled, and just like that it was over.. Locked within his own body, he could only watch as Jomi used his fingers to pluck one pill after the next and force it down his gullet. What have you done to me? he asked of her silently. Through the haze over his eyes, he could barely make out her form. Was that guilt, or was he imagining it? Ashamed or not, she was in trouble if he ever got out. Out of where? He was still him, still there in the Unnamye. He could feel the raw cut sting in the cold air, smell the blood on his own face as Jomi explored his body. But his limbs were locked, as if a puppeteer held him on strings. For the first time, everyone's fears about magic made perfect sense. Word Count: 555

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira looked up out of her hands. There was a hard, defiant set to her lips.

"Well I picked you up didn't I?" she hissed, "It doesn't get more 'bleeding heart' than that. And for the love of the gods have some respect for your vessel." she caught Roland's wrist and pulled his exploring hand away from his face.

Around their little table, the mood of the drug den had changed drastically. Those who saw the summoning, or who were sensitive to the presence of the ghost, were staring at their shadowy corner with varying levels of comprehension on their faces. Even those who had missed the struggle completely were not immune, as even the most drugged out patron was forced to stew in the cold, fearful vibe that had suddenly descended on the cozy atmosphere.

Madeira felt Ssache's presence before she saw her. The Unnayme owner’s slow, sensual movements had been whittled down into something fast and choppy. She was vibrating with some undefined but intense emotion as she stalked to their table. But she seemed hesitant to confront them, and hung back as she got closer, her nostrils flared and her eyes wide and livid.

"We're leaving!" Madeira opened her hands unthreateningly before the Dhani could speak. "We're leaving right now. Let's go, Jomi." She levered herself to her feet, clutching the wall and her cane for support. She scooped up her silver ring and jammed it back onto her finger.

Nobody moved to stop them. Some shrank back, others averted their eyes, but nobody seemed to want to impede the progress of the young woman and the man behind her as they made their way out of the den. Ghosts were the business of the Cravens, and the Cravens were not to be trifled with.

After the smokey, incense-ladened Unnayme, the crisp Fall streets of Alvadas felt like coming up for air. The cold burned gloriously in Madeira's lungs, and she stood there for several ticks just breathing deep of the cleansing air. She wondered how long it would take for her family to hear about this, and if the Speakers would be angry enough to call on them. She wondered how much trouble she caused because her poor little delusional ghost thought the tall foreigner was cute.

"You can let him go, Jomi." she said, smoothing down her skirt. “But please stay close for a bit. I think he might try to kill me."

At their feet, the cobble street they had left not twenty chimes ago had vanished. Instead a perfect image of the sky was below them, complete with wispy scuttling clouds and a mirror Syna. The only thing that seemed to be holding any of the bustling pedestrians up was trust and faith. The buildings across from the trio might as well have been suspended by puppet strings between the two empty blue voids above and below.

word count: 484

[Jomi]

As Madeira led him to the door following Ssache's unspoken threat, Jomi began to bounce himself out behind her. Another peculiarity of a solid body was that no matter how far in the air he got there was always an invisible anchor pulling him back to the ground. The solid, grounded feeling he got from manipulating a living body was quickly becoming an addiction for the ghost.

The odd behavour earned the trio several more questionable stares and while Jomi was aware of them he found that he really couldn't bring himself to care. If anybody made a move to stop them Roland was the one that would get hurt while Jomi could simply melt into the floor and escape to the Underground. Same with the Cravens, even though the family of spiritist were the only people who could hurt him it was Madeira who would suffer the consequences from her little detor. You don't punish a tool for doing as it's told.

Once they were out on the streets Madeira took a moment to breath deep and settle herself, which prompted Jomi to do the same. He breathed hard into his borrowed nose until the lungs grew taunt and slowly exhaled. The mirror sky street made it easy to spot the locals and the tourists. While native Alvads walked confidantly past fluffy clouds and floating buildings, firm in their belief that Ionu would support their steps and not leave them to fall into the sky. The newcomers attached themselves to every solid looking surface with eyes filled with terror.

"You can let him go, Jomi. But please stay close for a bit. I think he might try to kill me."

"Oh yeah, he will definitely try to kill you." Jomi stated matter of factly.

"He's not doing much anymore, being a good little passenger and all, but he is fuming something feirce. You might want to take that sword out Miss Cripple 'cause he's not gonna be happy to see you."

As much as he had been enjoying sharing Roland's body he knew he was too weak to keep up the possesion much longer. Jomi slowly loosened his hold and began peeling himself off the bones and muscles and drifted out of his host as a fine pearlescent mist. He pulled the loosely shifting mist towards his core to reform into his prefered shape. Giving his form as much solidity as he could while hovering directly between Roland and Madeira.

[Roland Eir]

There are few feelings in this world worse than possession. Roland stewed in a pit of horror and anger, watching through his own eyes as his body was piloted up and out of the Unnamye. His pilot guided them out the door on Madeira's heels, jumping like a lunatic. Free from the haze of the drug den his vision improved dramatically, even blurred as it was from the possession. Roland experienced the surreal feeling of walking on open air. Without a choice, his feet carried him out over clouds and blue. It was like walking on a mirror; the surface felt perfectly smooth. The added terror soon subsided. Since they were not already falling through the infinite abyss of blue below them, Roland assumed it must be safe. The issue of the spirit within him weighed much heavier on his mind at the moment. But just like that Madeira was ordering this Jomi to leave him. Like a film of glue being peeled away, the ghost's essence removed itself. Limb by limb that feeling of numbness faded, leaving only a tired ache. Collapsing onto his hands and knees, Roland struggled to remember to breathe. Nothing but space lay above or below him. But ahead... ahead were his tormentors. Shaking off vertigo, he pulled himself up onto quivering legs. Oh gods, but he was exhausted. How much of his djed had he wasted trying to fight off the ghost? "Oh shyke," he swore. Taking a wide stance, his arms extended to balance on the empty "street" below him, he glared at the spirit and the woman in front of him. They both seemed pretty sure he was going to attack them. That was fair. He was certainly pissed. But he was also tired, and more at their mercy than they might have guessed. But more than that... "Unlike you, I don't hurt people." Wincing, he grabbed at the cut on his hand. It was shallow, and would hopefully stop bleeding on its own soon. He struggled to gather his thoughts past the pain, fear, and confusion. If he wasn't going to fight them, what was he going to do? Obviously her magic gave her control over him, which he very much didn't like. She knew the city, however, and that made her invaluable to him. More than the city, it sounded like she knew more about magic than he did. From the demonstration, she was certainly more willing to use her magic. Maybe he could ask her to teach him... Gods, what was he thinking? This woman had just caused a spirit to possess him. This is a headache. He needed to clear this up. "First of all, he began, finally bringing himself back to his full height. "I want to know what those pills were." That was priority number one, but as he said that an idea came to him. Pushing his fear to the side, he walked towards them. Slowly, nonthreatening, but with as much confidence as he could muster. Stopping just a couple feet away from Jomi, he continued "Second, you tell your friend here to go. You do that and maybe, just maybe, I'll tell you a little bit about my magic." Admitting to it was the only thing he could think of to put himself in control of the situation. If he wanted to learn enough to even consider putting himself back at her mercy, then maybe she could be convinced to do the opposite. He'd seen the hunger in her eyes. He'd been manipulated enough during his life to recognize that the more you wanted something, the easier you were to control. Maybe it was time to use that to his advantage. Word Count: 639

[Madeira Dusk]

“Unlike you, I don’t hurt people.”

Roland had come back to himself with a stagger, but was regaining composer rapidly. He was examining his cut hand, though from his expression she was sure that his thoughts were running a little deeper than the superficial cut. His words, however, sliced into the spiritist. And Roland quite by accident hit a nerve he never even knew was there. Madeira fired up at once, staring daggers through the semi opaque ghost she was hiding behind.

“I had no choice.” she stated firmly, her voice as high and tight as her posture. A bruised and bleeding Maro flared into her mind, then a broken, damaged Dex. A nameless Vantha ghost crumbled to dust at her feet in her mind’s eye. “I had to do what was best.”

Roland demanded to know what those pills were, and Madeira looked away across the street. A little girl wielding a long stick was herding a gaggle of geese down the sky-street. Madeira watched their progress as she considered how best to explain the Newcomers Tonic to the foreigner, but as several of the geese started breathing fire she realized she probably wouldn’t need to. He’d figure it out soon enough.

“I told you, they’ll make you see the city as we do. You should be thanking me.” she continued, trying for a haughty air she didn’t feel. “I just saved your sanity.”

He stepped closer to the pair of them, his posture tall and strong and hands out in a pacifying way. Forcing confidence, he told her to dismiss Jomi. Madeira was just about laugh at him and totter away with as much dignity as she could manage, when he said something she was not expecting.

"-and maybe, just maybe, I'll tell you a little bit about my magic."

There was one beat, then two. Madeira was looking him up and down like she was seeing him for the first time.

"I knew it!" she hissed under her breath, her chapped lips cracking under the force of her scimitar smile. "I knew it! You're a-" she mouthed the word 'Reimancer' silently.

But why, oh why, was he revealing this now? She had him possessed under the assumption that he was telling the truth- that he had no magic. Only when she was certain he had nothing to give her did she let any chance of him trusting her go up in smoke and flames. So why admit to his magic now? Why offer to tell her about it?

Unless he wanted hers, too.

Her brow furrowed. Was this it? He wanted a trade? Knowledge for knowledge? She was reminded forcibly of Terag, the Isurian Reimancer, with whom she had struck a similar deal. But to make the trade she would have to give up Jomi, her only protection.

She considered for a moment, staring at the tip of her boots that poked out over the endless blue below them. When she looked up again, her face was set. She spoke to Jomi though her eyes never left Roland's.

"You can go, Jomi. If you find Emma tell her to wait with Raj until I get home."

Damn the risks. Crippled and half-dead as she was, she couldn't let this opportunity go.

word count: 544

[Jomi]

"You can go, Jomi. If you find Emma tell her to wait with Raj until I get home."

“Shhh! My common sense is tingling.”

Jomi placed the tip of his fingers on his temples and screwed his face as if in deep thought.

“It says ‘don’t follow the angry magic using stranger, you stupid petching child.’”

The ghost turned to face Madeira then. The errant wisps of soulmist curled back to his core as he used the last of his energy to make himself appear more solid. He was conflicted and it showed on his face, stuck between concern for his Master's wellbeing and resentment of needing a Master to take care of in the first place. Behind Madeira the fire breathing geese startled a portly middle aged woman who abruptly dissolved into butterflies. Jomi watched as the erratic cloud of bugs escaped over the Unnayme, stalling for time as he considered her order. Unsure wether he should do as she wants or do what he thought was best.

“But I can’t force you to listen to reason.”

He held out his materialized left hand, letting a stray thread of soulmist curl toward her silver ring, offering some for Madeira to take.

“Just know that if you die I will spend the rest of eternity laughing in your ghost’s face.”

Turning to Roland he grinned and blew him a kiss as he slowly began to fade from sight.

“Maybe I’ll find you again, Stray.”

[Roland Eir]

Reimancer. Strange that she would go there first, but he wasn't about to correct her. It was a powerful form of magic, and the implication that he could throw a fireball at any moment could prove useful to him. A pit formed in his stomach at the thought. He didn't like acting this way, but he couldn't afford to let his guard down with Jomi there. Setting his face in a stony frown, he watched Madeira make up her mind. The geese didn't distract him, even when the breathed fire. That was just the way things were in this city. It was natural. No, what mattered was the girl and her ghost. Indecision plain in her face, she considered his offer for what seemed like an age. Then her head raised back up, a determined mirror of his own, and she dismissed her spirit. Jomi didn't seem to take kindly to that. Roland twitched under his ghastly gaze. The ghost obviously thought he was a threat. I suppose I should be flattered, Roland thought with a grimace, narrowing his eyes back at the raven-haired specter. "Maybe I'll find you again, Stray." Jomi's voice echoed even as he disappeared from view. Roland's heart recoiled at the wrongness of it. Did I even believe in ghosts this morning? This whole situation made his head hurt. Or maybe that was the exhaustion. Still, it seemed he couldn't come to a new city without meeting some crazy woman with magical powers. At least the real threat was gone now. Powerful as she might be, she was nothing without her spirits. Or at least, that's what he hoped. So far he'd seen nothing to suggest she was anything more than a crippled young woman. Striding forward until he was just a few feet away from her he did his best to adopt a strong, intimidating. "Now. Before you decided to drug me you were going to take me to an inn. So let's stop petching around here, and you can... you can..." His voice faltering, he felt a weakness course through him. He doubled over, his arms wrapped around his core. Pain seeped through his abdomen, his muscles screaming as though he'd just finished a thousand sit-ups. This was the danger of the flux. In his panic trying to fight off Jomi's soulmist he'd used too much djed too quickly. It wasn't enough to do any permanent damage, but these spasms would be bothering him for a while yet. He straightened slowly, like an old man stretching, his body complaining with every vertebrae that slid into place. "Like I was saying," he said between ragged breaths. "An inn... would be nice..." Please. Trying his best to appear confident was becoming more and more difficult. He wasn't sure if she'd even listen to him now, much less take him seriously. At the very least he thought he was safe now. The ghost was gone, and for whatever reason the sky beneath his feet wasn't bothering him as much now. For now he would focus on staying upright. Unless the leg had been a ruse all along there was no way she'd could carry him. Nor would she, he figured. There was no telling how far she'd go to learn his secrets now that he'd hinted at them, but he'd done nothing to foster any goodwill. His thoughts flashed to the blade hidden in her cane. If her mind turned to threatening him he didn't know what he'd do. So he had to make this a deal. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. No more lies. If you just get me somewhere safe to lie down." He wasn't going to be sleeping in a gutter, not tonight. This was not an auspicious beginning to his new life in the city, but he wouldn't let it get any worse. Word Count: 645