It is within this scene that the strange event occurs, a shimmering within the setting. A figure appears, pale and insubstantial. It desperately reaches out to those nearby, speaking in faltering sentences. Few take note of its appearance, continuing with their own agendas. It calls out for help, a desperate plea. It shimmers again, its strength fading as it asks for help, for someone to offer their aid, before it dissipates entirely, leaving the air as still as it was before.
After a minute or two more of searching, he finds his target and a smile spreads across his face as quickly as he sneaks away.
As Yrthilian waits, others begin to gather to discuss what it is that the ghost may desire. Is it revenge? To be put to rest? To simply haunt the living? Is the spirit to be aided? Ignored? Exorcised? Yrthilian and the others must wait for it to reappear before these questions can be answered.
[ Sephirah Caelum has been rewarded an Aged Elemental for delivering the Ghost's message ]
Of those at the park, several are spurred into action. One suggests looking for the Master of Drachorns, SmartAlekRJ. Minotous believes the answers lie within the collected knowledge stored within the Archives and heads off to discover that he can. Pawdancer, however, believes the spirit has been separated from its body and wishes to find it in hopes of putting the poor soul to rest.
During the conversation with the Archivist, the bit of information that the apparition claims to not be dead is brought up, which leads to Minotous wondering how a body and a soul could be separated.
With more questions on his mind than answers, Minotous departs from the Archives to continue in his search in hopes of aiding the spirit.
Meanwhile, the Marble Dale Park continues on as it has for some time and without the reappearance of any ghostly figure.
The group talks for some time, moving the pieces of the puzzle around, but unable—or unwilling—to see the connections they make and the larger picture from which they come.
There is fear that the apparition itself may not return and the information they have now is all there is to go on. The absence of any appearances at the Marble Dale Park lends to the conclusion that the spirit, or whatever it might be, is running short on energy… and possibly time…
The two speak for a bit as Renavoid offers her some tea. He produces the cups and teapot along with a book that catches Sephirah’s attention. She asks to view the book, which Renavoid hands to her, flipping through it to only to find the pages blank. Peace arrives and sits beside the two as Sephirah asks Renavoid, “What is written in the book?” Renavoid tells her to stop flipping the pages and to hold it still.
Sephirah does as instructed and, for a moment, the pages remain blank. Then, slowly, from the corners and edges of the pages, ink begins to slink and creep across the page: “Remember.” Unsure what she is supposed to remember, Sephirah hands to book to Peace…
The page is turned.
The ink reforms to show a blasted wasteland, cracks running deep into the earth, the shells of desiccated trees bend in a silent wind that kicks up shrouds of choking dust that races across the land. Though there is light, it seems pale and weak and unsure of itself. In the distance, a large tower, colored with the darkest of blacks, rises from within the earth. And though there is no sound, the tower seems to scream with a thousand agonized voices. The ink moves into the shape of a large man with regal bearing, an axe in one hand and a crown in the other. He argues with another: a mass of swirling ink.
The page is turned.
The ink does not form into a picture, but sways across the pages, dark waves upon a darker sea. Within moments the page is filled to bursting with the dark substance and it threatens to burst forth. With unmatched speed, Rensak, Renavoid’s wind dragon, swipes his tail, knocking the book out of Peace’s hands, sending it and her in opposite directions.
The page is turned.
An open field filled with figures, some moving, some watching, some which seem to sing while another plays an instrument. The ink is thin here and the page seems brighter. In the middle of the gathering, an orb ascends, glowing with energy as the people watch. As the orb rises away from the people on the page, the ink itself coalesces and surges up towards Sephirah, some of which splashes on to her face. Though shocked, Sephirah finds the ink fades away quickly, as though it was never there.
Instead of the ink snaking across the page, it erupts from the pages of the book, engulfing Renavoid and Peace. They each scream in agony and terror, Renavoid crying out for the voices to stop. Sephirah, Rensak, and Stormbringer all reach into the black abyss of ink, trying to find the book to attempt closing it. After several moments of blind groping, Sephirah finds the book, slamming it shut, and holds it close to her.
Peace and Renavoid lie on the ground, shaking and incoherent, though Peace recovers before Renavoid. Rensak curls around the prostrate man, a tight and protective coil. Rensak eventually takes flight, carrying Renavoid off into the distance, the book still within Sephirah’s possession.
Another thought crosses Sephirah’s mind, something from a conversation she’d had a day or two previously. She decides to distract Renavoid, asking him a series of questions beginning with the one she believes is the most telling. Sephirah faces him and asks, “How did you get out of the House of Liquid Dust?” Though Renavoid looks right at her, he does not answer. She tries again, several times and in different ways, but each time the result is the same: Renavoid does not answer her.
Confused, but unwilling to give up, Sephirah tries another tactic: determine the identity of the person to whom she talking, asking him about the year, about those he knows, and about the book itself. When she asks him to describe it, Renvoid responds with, “It is an old hard leather book with runes on the cover that sometimes is blank, and sometimes displays its title "Divining the Individual." Though she is uncertain, and has not obtained the answer she wants, she hands over the book to Renavoid.
She then asks a simple question, one she knows Renavoid must know the answer to: “What is the House of Liquid Dust like inside?” to which he responds with a confused “How would I know?” Not satisfied with the answers she had been given, Sephirah asks to see the book once more and Renavoid reluctantly acquiesces. Within moments, she and the book are on the road, quickly moving away from the Paper Cabin, leaving Renavoid on the roof shouting “Thief!” as she runs away.
She quickly and quietly moves along the stone paths and down the steps leading out of the Tribunal Lands and slinks softly towards the wall which separates Necrovion from the rest of the lands. She leaves a sign for her comrade; the two meet up within the hour in a darkened section of Archives. She shows him the note. He pushes his round glasses up his nose to read it and nods. “Yes. I believe we should offer… assistance,” he says in a soft voice. The girl turns and sweeps out of the room and the thin, young man pulls out a sharpened stone dagger, a lopsided grin crossing his face as light fills and reflects from his glasses.
The creaking of a floorboard distracts Sephirah from the page. Moments later, a bookcase wobbles and then lurches forward, crashing to the floor, narrowly missing Sephirah while scrolls and books shoot across the floor. Frightened, she dashes out of Lore Manor and begins to run for the Defensive Quarters. She is stopped outside of the Hallow Den by the appearance of a tall, thin man wearing circular glasses which only seem to reflect light.
He greets her with a cool smile, stepping onto the dirt path in front of her. “Interesting book,” he says, pointing at the leather-bound tome which she clutches closer to chest. “Potentially dangerous, too. You should leave it with me if…” he trails off, lowering his head while his fingers trace the edge of a stone dagger.
Several minutes pass and Sephirah finally begins to relax. She overhears several people mention “Story Night” and decides that being in public, surrounded by others, would be a good idea. Also, she likes the idea of hearing tales to distract her from everything that has happened recently. She makes her way to Fortune’s Well, comforted by the gathering of so many people. The crowd begins to settle down as the first story teller begins speaking. Soon, the entire crowd is silent, enraptured by the yarns spinning forth.
The applause from the crowd echoes, the smiles wide on the face of each story teller. As Sephirah listens to tales—especially Awiiya’s recounting of a thief—she thinks back to a conversation she had with Mya Celestia. The words of the story, coupled with Mya’s wisdom, catch Sephirah by surprise.
By the time Awiiya finishes, Sephirah is moved and tears well in the corner of her eyes. She decides that the book is not worth the trouble it has caused her and that Renavoid is the one who should have it. She seeks him out and hands it over to his cry of joy. Though he thanks her, Sephirah can’t help but wonder if she’s done the right thing.
[Ivorak and Susan the Silent each received 5 silver as a contract fee for returning the book]
“Oh?” Mya replies, “Who do you think it is?”
Sephirah glances over towards Renavoid and then looks back to Mya, “It is, I think… well, I know how odd this sounds, but… I think the ghost is… um…” Sephirah pauses for a moment to collect her words and thoughts, and looks over at Renavoid once more.
Mya interrupts, “You think the ghost is Ren, don’t you?” Sephirah’s eyes widen a bit before Mya continues. “I’ve thought that for a while now, but I didn’t know if anyone else had come to the same conclusion.” Sephirah nods.
“I believe it is his soul, his spirit, but that over there,” Sephirah whispers as she points to Renavoid, “is his body. And I think his spirit is—“
“Trapped within the House of Liquid Dust?” Mya asks with a slight smile. Sephirah nods once more.
“But what do we do? How can we help him? Or find out if he’s really trapped in there?”
Mya thinks for a moment and responds with, “I have an idea. We’ll need a group of people…”
The darkness recoils, slithering away from the light as it penetrates into the house, though it seems to hover just outside the light’s influence. Through her mind’s eye, Mya sees and feels the interior of the house: dry, hot, oppressive… The shadows and dust mingle and swirl together, pooling in certain places to disperse moments later, moving about as though possessed of an alien sentience. Is it watching her? Curious? Afraid? Indignant at her intrusion?
Mya continues to search, pushing through the house. Finally, she senses, more than sees, a presence. It is faint, but has a familiar feel to it. “Renavoid…!” The presence is weak, in pain and crying out for help. She rushes towards the sensation, but a powerful force comes between her and it, lashing out. Unprepared for such interference, Mya’s concentration is broken. A flash of light and pulse of energy blasts her away from the door, sending her flying into the crowd gathered on the path.
His book? A quill? A dream? Several ideas are tossed about concerning objects that hold a connection to Renavoid. Methys begins again, “We must discuss our findings and thoughts with Yrthilian as soon as we can. Time is of the essence. The sooner we gather these materials, the sooner we can free Renavoid of his prison.”
The search for these items begins.
Sephirah Caelum has been awarded a Wishpoint for supreme dedication and excellent roleplay in discovering the identity and source of the Ghostly Apparition.
Peace has been awarded 10 Silver for notable contribution to the story and for ideas.
methys has been awarded 10 silver for notable contribution to the story and for ideas.
Minotous has been awarded 5 credits for dedication in assisting the Ghostly Apparition.
Yrthilian closes the creaking door behind him and motions towards a chair. He moves towards a table set up against the far wall as Sephirah sits and gazes at the surroundings, watching as Yrthilian unpacks a strange, compact-looking device, setting it on the floor near the table. Within moments, the object unfolds, revealing a small forge.
”Thank you for allowing me to come here, Your Majesty.”
“There are few who are allowed to visit here, but you have taken a great interest in these events. I felt you deserved to see something special.” With this, Yrthilian places a smelting pot on the forge, its fire already burning red-hot. He fills the pot with shards of glass from a bag resting on the table.
The two converse for a bit about the nature of orbs and souls, how to capture one and what holds it best. “You have a page from the book, correct? I would like it now.” Sephirah hands Yrthilian the folded piece of paper and he pulls out another from the folds of his robe. “The recounting of a dream…” He places these within the molten glass, where they catch fire. The smoke, however, does not escape into the air, but remains within the glass.
Yrthilian lifts a cube off a nearby shelf and pours the molten glass into a small hole. The two converse for a time as the glass cools while Yrthilian begins to hew piece of wood, “to place the orb atop.” After enough time has passed, he breaks the clay cube away, revealing a glass orb that shimmers and in which smoke seems to play.
“We shall soon see if this works.” Sephirah nods silently as the two leave the lab, and then Golemus, travelling back to the main land.
Yrthilian finally appears, carrying with him a carved staff with a perfectly crafted glass orb sitting atop it. The remaining crowd shifts their attention to the royal presence. Yrthilian looks around, disappointed at the number of those he sees. However, he knows what must be done and so he begins.
He asks those gathered about their thoughts on what has happened: how can we see Renavoid before us—here, along the path—walking and talking, interacting, physical to the touch, while there is a part of him that still remains in the house situated along the road? There are several answers, theories of his mind separated from his body, of Black Water and Liquid Dust made manifest, to discussions of its nature.
All the while, Renavoid rolls his eyes and smiles, thinking all those gathered have taken leave of their senses.
Music. Writing. Stories. Fun. Mattress Races. Knowledge. His Wind Dragons. Those gathered share their memories of Renavoid, creating connections between themselves and their lost friend, weaving a net, in their own way, with the hope of rescuing Renavoid at the core. As the group works together, the orb fixed atop the staff begins to glow slightly. The more they concentrate, the brighter the glow becomes, the orb lifting off the staff, floating above it.
Renavoid watches, eyes fixed upon the glowing orb, he begins to walk towards it. And though there is but a slight breeze, it appears as though a great wind blows behind him, Renavoid’s hair tossed about, his clothing ruffled by the unseen breeze.
The group continues to concentrate on working the magic, using stores of energy to power it, Yrthilian growing weaker as he does. The spell begins to have an effect, though it is unexpected. Two of Renavoid’s Wind Dragons disappear in wisps of smoke and Renavoid himself seems to become less substantial. He becomes translucent as flecks of light surround him. Rensak, his last Wind Dragon, cries out as Renavoid himself disappears.
Exhausted and spent, Yrthilian collapses; the staff and orb follow suit, toppling to the ground. As it falls, the orb strikes a rock, cracking and turning dark.
A breeze passes over the still scene as each person there holds their breath, hoping for answers. Yrthilian asks that the staff and orb be brought to him. Certain that Asterdai can support the weakened king on his own, Peace gingerly collects both items, ensuring that neither is damaged any further. She brings them to Yrthilian who looks them over carefully.
“Might sand be of any help? To fix the orb?” she offers, but the king says nothing, studying the cracked orb. “This… this should not have happened. Why is the glass dark?” He looks around and notices as Rensak rolls over and stands, looking dazed. “What? Why is his wind dragon still here?”
With more questions than answers, the group seems at a loss. Mya Celestia stands and moves towards the Golemite King asking, “Should I check the house again?” He nods and smiles, pointing to a case on the ground.
“Open it, Mya, it is something for you, to protect you… unlike last time.” Mya opens the latch and pulls out a gleaming gauntlet covered with inscribed runes and three gems—emerald, star sapphire, and diamond. She easily slips her hand into it and smiles. She stands, taking a deep breath, and walks to the door of the House of Liquid Dust. As before, many concentrate on her, adding to her energy. After several moments pass, she turns, her features drawn tight.
“Renavoid is still inside the house.”
At this point, Mya Celestia arrives and inquires about what the two of them have been “talking” about. Curiose tries to explain to Mya, but she ends up just as confused about the rocks and their meaning as Curiose.
”Maybe the rocks aren’t supposed to be rocks, maybe they represent something else?” Mya asks. Rensak perks up a little at this suggestion. “Do they… represent people?” Rensak responds by picking up another rock and tossing it into the pile on the road.
”Oh, a gathering of people. Again?” Curiose asks. “But that’s failed. Twice. How would another such ritual be any different?” The two think for a moment before Curious offers, “What about those closest to Ren?”
A voice speaks from behind the two women, “I know who Renavoid’s best friend was… A man of great power.” The two turn to see BigC standing there. Mya smiles, “Yes, it was Wodin.” The three discuss whether such a plan would work or not and then how to achieve it, knowing to do so would require assembling the pieces of Wodin’s seal.
Yrthilian, Ailith, Grido, Burns: each hold a piece to this legendary warrior’s seal, but will these four be willing to come together to summon Wodin for a single man?
Roused by a sudden need for movement, he begins to walk around the realm. It is almost as if he searches for something or someone, looking through all the lands, resting frequently as he travels. He sees familiar places and watches friendly faces, but none seem to notice him and so many pass on by.
Feeling pulled once more, he turns and heads southward, passing the Gazebo of Equilibrium and the Howling Gates, pausing a moment to sigh, a strange, sparkling mist escaping as he does so. His tail drags upon the ground as he turns the corner towards the House of Liquid Dust, leaving a similarly sparkling trail in its wake.
With great effort, he heaves himself onto the roof of the house. There, he lays his head upon the roof, closing his eyes, thick streaks of sparkling mist running out of them. He lies there, breathing slowly as his whole body begins to shimmer, glittering dust that is caught by the wind. Within moments nothing is left of the great wind dragon but a flickering stream of dust that dissipates into the sky.
A single spark remaining on the rooftop of the house rises into the air and darts away, taking an erratic course towards Loreroot. Once there, the spark finds Mya Celestia, flaring a bit as it lands on her shoulder, pressing into her, to finally fade away. Mya nods a moment, a faint smile crossing her lips before she turns into her shoulder and weeps.
~Fin~
[Mya Celestia has been awarded "Ancalador", one of Renavoid's Wind Dragons, for her dedication to their plight]