Two birds, one stone

[Jomi]

"Did I ever tell you the story of the hen and the woodsman?"

Jomi's voice was soft, as if speaking too loud might break his focus while his brows knit together tightly in concentration. The ghost was laid out flat on his back in the unseasonably lush greens on Infinity's grounds. The manors stubborn green thumb forcing the buds of out of season wildflowers up from the frostbitten dirt.

"There once was a hen that lived in the forest..."

His cheeks hollowed as he sucked the tender quasi flesh between his pretend teeth and stared unblinkingly at the long spool of twine he had pilfered from the pantry. He rolled the frayed end of the rough string between his fingers, winding the fibres back together with uncharacteristic patience.

"One day the hen wandered out of her home in the woods to find some berries."

Gathering his mists to him he focused on condensing his mist on the tips of his fingers, creating a solid barrier in his pinched hands. The blood red stone embedded in his palm shone weakly in the full light of day, filling Jomi with the goddesses borrowed power. The stone could turn his passable, somewhat irregular materialization of ghost Jomi a wonderfully horrific and undeniably true recreation of the Kelvic Jomi. The small subtle traits that made him who he was, like the slightly crooked bridge of his nose from when he'd broken it trying to sneak up on a horse. Or the deep, flat white puckered scar at the nape of his neck where he got bit when he was trying to run away from a horse. All those little pieces of him and his memories that were fading away piece by piece every day he'd spent in his new unlife were brought back and amplified by the goddesses gift.

"But she was a very stupid bird, so she fell into a very obvious pit."

His mists vibrated with tension as he attempted to pinch the loop of twine he'd made with one hand and thread the twine back through the small hole he'd made with the other. Even having mastered his soulmist and being able to lift and move objects with ease, the ghost still lacked the fine motor controls that living adults took for granted. Jomi sympathized with babies much more since his death. He'd cry constantly too if every time he lifted his arm he punched himself in the face.

"And once the very stupid hen fell into the very obvious pit a woodsman heard the very stupid birds very stupid squawking."

Jomi knit the soulmist in his fingers together as tight as he could. His eyes narrowed in focus as the errant mists retracted and packed down to create a solid border around the digits that rolled the thread into a tighter point.

"Then the woodsman asked the very stupid hen what she was doing in the very obvious pit."

The grey speckled hen suspended above Jomi's chest in a web of soulmist and string and thoroughly unimpressed by the story only beat her wings furiously and squacked harder. Scaly legged talons ripped at the empty air beneath her as she peddled wildly. Thrashing her skinny legs at her captor. Her valiant escape efforts caused a truly ridiculous amount of snowy feathers rained down around the pair, surely more than what was contained on the fragile flightless fowl Jomi thought distractedly.

[Jomi]

"The very stupid hen in the very obvious pit told the woodsman how very stupid she was and asked him for help out of the very obvious pit."

Jomi had spent countless hours on the grounds studying Madeira's brood of chickens and their habits and personalities. From their weird stuttered head bob and jerking movement. And the way they investigated every time a new rock or twig appeared in their run with panic and scratching. Now, finally, he had all the information he needed to design Rosie, his favourite gem laying hen, the gift she needed to bring some challenges, joy and the opportunity to learn the wonders of the big city outside of her small sheltered world.

A walking harness.

Perfect for taking his pet out without the dangers of letting the sheltered bird out on her own. A happy medium of adventure and security with comfortable, snug straps and a long lead. But only after Jomi tested the new contraption on Rosie's much less likeable sister.

"The woodsman took pity on the very stupid hen so he set off to his house to find a tool to help get her out of the very obvious pit."

Jomi soundlessly worried his lip as he lined up the end of the thread with the circle for the dozenth time, both mere inches from his face. The frustration rolled off his body in waves as the thread caught the edge slipped off. Having no success the ghost changed tactics, he adjusted his grip to hold the loop horizontally between his index fingers as he pinched the bent thread between his thumbs. His eyes narrowed and lips grew taunt as he gently pushed the point of the thread forward.

"Sir?"

Jomi looked up as was met with the creepy, stiff, quiet and not all there boy servant Maro's dull black eyes. Having materialized in the storm of white down standing at Jomi's prone shoulders looking down on the ghost with his signature look of complete and utter apathy.

The ghost made a short undignified squawk of his own and the hen, having been done with his shit for the past bell, saw the boys sudden appearance for the gift it was and made a final rush of movement. Capitalizing on the ghosts distraction and broken concentration to tip herself over. She beat her wings with renued vigour in order to roll out of the web of string and onto sweet solid ground. Immediately booking it for the safety of the coop and clucking indignantly.

"Then the woodsman came back with a knife and stabbed the hen to death and cooked her into a stew. THE END."

[Jomi]

Jomi sat up, his face painted with a scowl as he tossed the unfinished mess of string across the yard. The sight of the light spool bouncing merrily down the hill only served to piss him off more before the soft monotone voice of the unsettling boy floated over his shoulder.

"...Sir?"

"What!"

"The window in the cottage attacked me."

The ghost ran both his palms hard down his face. lingering on his hard putruding facial featues. Before coming to rest over his mouth before letting out a long drawn out groan. The gem embedded in the ghosts palm pulsed as he drew himself back together from his little fright. Flooding his body with a divine energy that kept him as soild and lifelike as any human.

"What did the window do?" Jomi peer out from between his fingers at the boy. Now that he had a good look at him, the ghost could she the shadow of a big fat goose egg sized lump growing just beneath his hairline.

"It attacked me."

"With what?"

"A brick."

"A window picked up a brick and threw it at you?"

Jomi's foul mood evaporated as he coaxed the details of his encounter from the frustratingly straight forward boy. The dull eyed child would only answer the question asked and never supplied details of his own. But the story he was telling sent Jomi back to his youth in Alvadas where such things as hostile architecture were commonplace and expected.

"..."

With nothing else to add or possibly being unable to articulate the thought of it at all the boy fell silent, staring at the ghost sprawled out on the lawn unblinking.

"Well alright then, take me to the window and I'll give it a firm talking too. Do you want to come?" Jomi twisted his torso around and craned his materialized neck to spot the forever perfect Rosie. Still nesting on a clump of dandelions watching the drama unfold. "I bet there's some big fat tasty spiders in there."

Suddenly shy now that the attentions suddenly on her the hen shook out her feathers and fluffed up defensively. The soft clucks ruffled the small feathers on her throat as she picked herself up and trotted back to the run.

"It's okay, I understand. You can leave. They all do."

The fat red hen turned her head. A single beady yellow eye watched with indifference while Jomi slumped back from his cross legged position dramatically on Infinity's lawn. Arms stretched over his head he indulged in a stretch couldn't feel purly by force of habit.

"Woe is me. Cursed to outlive all that I love." Jomi's voice warbled as he lifted a trembling arm to the retreating hen. "To spare me your companionship is the greatest mercy."

"Sir?"

"Fine! yes, lets go."

[Jomi]

The cottage had been through a lot in the last few years, Jomi thought grimly. Back when Infinity was still a baby, when it's control over the space its consciousness had been born into was tenuous. The building had suffered horrifically when Uldr's priest came to hunt Madeira, the manor's owner, down. The burned hollowed out husk had scorch marks from where the acidic blood of the desolate priest had burned it. The beastly body of the priest had demolished the building. The blacked stone turned brittle crumbled at any insistent pressure. And for a long time after, as the baby architrix healed from its wounds the building remained as it was. An ugly reminder of their worst nightmare. It had been was worse for wear. But all things considered, the fact that it had any walls had been left standing at all was a testament to its craftsmanship.

Seasons had passed and now Infinity had taken to rebuilding its grounds with a renued vigour. Removing its spike filled moat and defences and building up its walls with stone and colour. And the cottage was no different.

The humble single room stone cottage was now built with a certain flair. The roughly hewed stone was now smooth as marble, a grand, carved wooden door depicting a motif of rabbits and chickens beckoned the pair in. But Jomi hesitated, eying the warm red wood suspiciously.

"So before we go in.." Jomi began, speaking to the child standing as his elbow. "What should I expect, do I need to be armed?"

The ghost stole a look at Maro from the corner of his eye. The bump on his head now turning an rich shade of purple.

"Do you need to be armed?"

"Yes."

Maro stared ahead, his monotone voice and delivery lacked any of the fear or urgency that one would expect from someone who'd just suggested that the situation required weapons.

Several ticks passed with the pair standing bathed in Sayna's glory before the whimsical carved door. Each staring straight and unblinking meters away from the entrance.

"...Maro?"

"Yes sir?"

"You don't need permission to get a weapon."

The small skinny child ran off. Jomi watched him disappear into the tree line with an awkward calculated gait. Not the childish bumbling of a being still getting use to its limbs. Someone his supposed age should have the loose bounding of a childen who's bones are made of rubber and magic that can bounce back from any fall without so much as a cracked rib.

There was a moment of sorrow followed by a low melodramatic sigh from the ghost as his posture slumped forward. Jomi, unable to offer any meaningful help to the kid, or torment those who did this to him. Meaning that the ghost was well and truly useless. A painful state to be in for a Kelvic. And whatever was left of the ghosts Kelvic drive to be useful to those around him was threatening to drive his thoughts to dark places and he was running out of ways to stave off the thoughts and ways to entertain himself.

Jumping forward the ghost took hold of the doors handle. Since the ghost lacked the traction that fingerprints or skin provided it all came down to the pressure he could generate with his mists and the focus it took to maintain it.

The ghost has never been one for bravery, preferring to avoid conflict and consequence, and since he came back to unlife he had never needed to confront anyone. His incorpreal state absolved him from punishment from all but a spiritist. But just then a jolt of apprehension shot down to his soul.