Completed Closure (Harkon)

[Viszragoneszh]

40th day of Fall, 514 Goneszh was in the shop kitchen, making another batch of soulmist. It was not so much a difficult task as it was difficult to hide how easy it was. As a Dhani, he had no problem regurgitating the soulmist gel, after letting it become empowered by his own djed-imbued affinity for touching the spiritual plane. He could let the ingredients, Egg, flour and honey, sit in his stomach for a full bell if he chose before coughing it back up. He was not sure exactly how it was that he generated the shift in nature to this lump in his stomach, when at other times he simply digested whatever was in his stomach. But he knew when it was absorbing his djed, and he knew his djed was attuned to the...alignment...that ghosts existed on. Yes-ss...he liked that word to describe it..."alignment". He did not have to let it descend all the way to his stomach, but it gained power more quickly that way. It also gave him more of a "personal" affinity for the ghost that came in contact with it. He could just let the doughy lump sit in his mouth; spirits seemed to like it just the same. But he himself felt less "connected" to them as a result. The important thing was giving his boss, Mr. Caleb Morealis, the impression that it took a great effort to cough the gel back up, and to make him believe he had done it much sooner. He did not want the human knowing he was a Dhani. More than once he'd had several lumps going at once, switching them out, alternating and hiding them. But at any rate he now had "processed" several lumps of the stuff. Mr. Morealis came into the kitchen and gave his apprentice a thumbs-up, "Very good, young man. Let's hope it's as appealing to our subjects as the last batch. That will have to do for now, though. I've gotten a contract for you to conduct. There is shop on the West Bank called "Blossoming Blooms". It is across the waterway from Oath Island's "Illumination Theater" and next door to the "Sweet Secrets" clothing store. They are apparently getting fed up with a recurring spirit hounding their customers." He perused a sheet of parchment, which probably outlined payment and job details, and continued. "It's a woman, apparently under the impression that her son is to be found around the area of the flower shop and its adjoining properties, including the shores of the waterway behind it, as well as the actual wild swamps beyond the shops across the road. Miss Elanai, the owner of the shop, says she has noted a marked increase in this ghost's agitation of late and has finally decided to see this poor woman "closed". Since it's so close to the true swamp, I'd like you to bring some support, for the possibility of dealing with the hazards of flora and fauna. You deal with the ghost and your escort will deal with all else. Sound good?" "Whatever you s-...up to you, Mis-ster Moreali-" he left the "s" off the man's name, which was a courtesy Caleb had extended him. To hide his Dhani tendency to over-pronounce esses, Goneszh had claimed a stuttering affliction on that letter, which allowed his avoidance of that letter to seem logical, and not "proper" to dwell on. "Did you have...anyone in particular in mind?" "Actually, yes, since you ask. There's a guard at the estate named Harkon. I'm showing him to be on out-duty rotation. It's my understanding that he will meet you at the flower shop. He will watch your back. Do be careful now, there are snakes out there." Mr. Morealis prompted helpfully. Goneszh stifled a smirk, "Indeed there are, s-sir. I will be very careful."

[Harkon]

Harkon was relaxed on his back, hands knitted behind his head, enjoying the sunlight, as the river taxi ferried him back from Blacksugar to Kenash proper. He had been given an assignment, so he was taking his time to relax before he had to undertake it. He was to meet an employee from the Morealis owned Spectral Solutions at the Freeborn owned Blossoming Blooms. The slave who had informed him of today's assignment didn't have the details, but Harkon assumed it was somehow ghost related. His ferry arrived at the south end of Dry Island, and he departed, just behind The Den. If he didn't have an assignment, he might've considered stopping in for a massage with the special treatment. Instead he just cut through Lantern Square and the Midnight Market, crossed the bridges to West Bank, and stopped in front of the flower shop. He'd rarely ever visited this shop in his several years in Kenash. And while he didn't particularly enjoy flowers, he did enjoy one of the most beautiful sights in all of Kenash hidden through the doors. Her name was Elenai, and she was the shopkeeper. Dark hair, pale skin, and eyes that seemed to have seen the best and worst of their world, she was indeed beautiful. And each and every of the few times he'd visited, he'd made some sort of pass at her, and was rebuked every time. He didn't mind though, he viewed it as a sort of game between them. He stepped inside, a sly grin on his face, "Why hello there Elenai. How's the Orchid of Kenash doing today?" She rolled her eyes, working hard over a bouquet of deep crimson roses. "Hello again Harkon, come to actually buy anything or just impress me with your wit?" His smile broadened, "Neither, I'm here on official business, just waiting on my companion. Don't mind me, I'll just watch you work." "That is all you ever do." Harkon laughed, wondering just who it was he was supposed to be meeting. If there was a ghost here, it hadn't revealed itself to him. But ghosts weren't his job, protecting the ghost buster from the dangers of the swamp, was.

[Viszragoneszh]

Goneszh made his way from the shop, stepping directly into Dry Island Plaza. Turning left to head south through the next plaza, Fountain Plaza, he paused with the temptation to indulge in a bit of leisure among the crafted pools and lounge seating, with a drink or two. But he shook it off, promising himself to give in to this diversion later. Passing the recreational water park, he headed west now, across a bridge, and crossed Blade Island. He passed through the Market, giving a nod to a man he recognized as belonging to the man called Lasher. Goneszh owed this man Lasher the mizas he'd borrowed to purchase herbs and salves to hasten the healing on his Freeborn brand. His Dhani skin had proved stubbornly resistant to heal within the thirty day grace period, and he'd finally broken down and bought some medicines to hurry things up. He had until the first day the following season to pay Lasher. He did not expect there to be a problem getting paid in time. But having lived and moved though many of the seedier areas of a number of Mizahar's notorious cities, he anticipated that Lasher would pull some stunt to "regrettably" prevent Goneszh from being able to reach him at the scheduled time, thereby enabling the addition of "late payment" penalties. It was a pretty common tactic among money lenders everywhere. Knowing it was coming, though, made it possible for Goneszh to take steps of his own to counter the attempt. Lasher's employee smiled back, all friendship and innocence. Goneszh smirked with the thought that they both knew damn well what would happen at season's end. At least Lasher had not concerned himself in the least with what Goneszh wanted the mizas for. The spiritist supposed he'd have told the loan shark that he was after a courtesan's services, or some "recreational chemistry". Perhaps both. He crossed another bridge, another island, Oath Island this time, and another bridge before arriving at the massive square and courtyard heralding the Traveler's Complex. There were some confused-looking newcomers milling around, and Goneszh wished them luck silently, suspecting that half of them would manage to end up as slaves. He himself, though, turned to his left to follow the street forming the southernmost boundary of the city proper. At the same moment that he saw the domed greenhouse building, designating the contract's location, he saw a man loitering at the door, looking preoccupied by something inside. Considering the rough look of the man, Goneszh figured it was more likely that it was the woman, and not the flowers, that held the man's attention. He was glad to see the man detect his approach long before he reached him. It would not serve to have someone too easily beguiled being his protection against the insidous dangers of the swamp. Though, as he saw the woman inside, he could not really blame him. He extended his hand, "Are you Mis-ster Harkon, my guard?" He stifled a grimace at his "s". Though he did not want people to suspect his Dhani nature, it was often counter productive to be constantly accounting for his sibilant tendency in this regard. If the man asked, he would give his "stutter" excuse. But in the meantime, he would act as though it was nothing noteworthy. "I am your contact for the ghos-st elimination job, from Mis-ster Caleb at the shop. My name is Gones-zh, of the tent of Vis-zra, of the children of Havid." This man Harkon looked like a Benshiran, and given that Goneszh was trying to pass himself off as one also, it was only proper to give the cultural greeting to him.

[Harkon]

Harkon's eyes watched as the gorgeous woman's fingers worked quickly and deftly on the stems of the roses. She appeared to be entwining them in such a way so that they held themselves together, but without breaking the stems. It was rather impressive, but it didn't hold Harkon's attention for long, as his eyes traveled up her arms, catching a glimpse of the valley between her breasts. But this was rudely interrupted as he spotted movement just at the corner of his vision. He turned his head, and saw a fellow Benshiran approaching. That was quite the surprise, considering how few were in the city, and most of those were travelers and merchants. The man appeared to be on a mission, eyes locked on Harkon as he approached. Harkon quickly assumed that he was the man he was supposed to provide protection for, and turned back to the florist, "It appears my companion has arrived. Try not to miss me too much while I'm gone working, okay?" With that, he turned as the man entered, asking if he was indeed the great and almighty Harkon. "Why yes, yes I am Harkon. I assume you are the representative from Spectral Solutions?" The man stuck out his hand and did the long, proper, Benshiran greeting. Harkon wanted to groan at the formality of it. In Kenash, it was so rare to greet one's self like that, and now Harkon just found it mildly annoying. Gripping the outstretched hand firmly, "I am Harkon, of the tents of Lywah, of the sons of Hirem." It was then that Harkon realized that the man hadn't spoken the greeting correctly. He'd said children, and not sons. Harkon knew a true Benshiran would never mess this up. But he had no need to call the man out for this, not yet at least. He would, however, remember this, and keep an extra eye on this 'Benshira'. "So, shall we get to work?"

[Viszragoneszh]

Goneszh appreciated the strong grip of this human, finding it more worthy than the usual pampered noodle that humans plopped in his hands. He had long gotten past the annoyance of having to restrain his own, lest he shock people with such a grip from such a 'youngster'. It had been decades since he'd given a human any suspicions based on his handshake. But somehow this man's eyes seemed to carry just a glint of appraisal. For a moment, Goneszh wondered if this 'Harkon' was more insightful than he looked. But he dismissed this, attributing the man's sightly extended gaze to the fact that Benshirans were fairly rare here. He might need to be a little more on guard with this human. Benshirans had a history of contact with various Dhani subraces and nests that went further than most human cultures. Goneszh knew his unique coloring gave him an edge in the camouflage department, as few Dhani had the ability to feign Benshiran heritage. But with a true Benshiran, he might need to be more attentive to cultural details than usual. If that failed, he just might have to invent some tale of a terrible accident. The thought made him aware that he was, in fact, getting quite hungry. He tried to keep this feral surge from his eyes and his smile. It was also possible that, being a Benshiran, this man may have a more tolerant attitude towards Dhanis, once exposed. The desert people HAD been one of the few human societies that had extended an open hand to the Iyvess. And truly, Goneszh DID try to keep his appetite sated with animal flesh. There was far less chance of an obsessive 'search-and-destroy' reaction from the populace. All this passed in less than the time it took Harkon to ask if they should get to work. "Yes-s...Yeah...uh...I'm s-sorry, you'll find I have a s-stutter on my 'es-ses-ses'. I'm sure you'll comprehend my want to avoid them when I may." He held up a hand. "Als-so, I need to get a few...a detail or two from the woman here." he nodded toward Elantai, stepping past Harkon to engage her for anything she could add to the account she had given Mr. Morealis. The woman confirmed that the ghost was more often a presence in the wilds behind the shop on the other side of the road, not so often near the waterway behind 'Blossoming Blooms' itself. There were several sources of flowering foliage that Elantai employed in her arrays and sachets. And this ghost's pattern wasn't so much to begin her episodes loitering around the flower shop, as it was to follow Elantai back from her forays to gather these plants. Then she hung around, regaling customers with some vague tale of woe. Elantai had been finding it increasingly necessary to pick these plants when there was no sign of this ghost. This tended to be right in the middle of the day, which was a detriment to doing business. Goneszh asked her if the ghostly woman ever said anything when contacted, explaining that easing her obsessions or grievances was the most direct way to be free of a ghostly nuisance. Elantai shrugged and agreed that she'd heard this was the case, but regretted that the ghost seemed to insist on her son having gotten lost in the woods. Goneszh pressed her, to some extent, for any details of local tales to that effect, but the woman could offer no insight. "Well, I may have to allow her to join with me and try to find where her impression is coming from. Have you found her to be hos-stile any time that you have to deal with her? Or primarily a melancholy condition?" Elantai explained that this was the whole point of contracting 'Spectral Solutions'. Initially, a few sympathetic words seemed to send the specter back to the woods to resume looking for this alleged 'lost son'. But lately, she had become increasingly insistent, refusing to leave until someone promised to accompany her to the swamp to help her look. Goneszh could understand that this was an unacceptable burden on a business owner. She couldn't leave her shop unattended. Nor could she have her customers harassed into going on pointless wanderings in the nearby swamp to satisfy a manic ghost. He kept his reserve soul mist concealed for now. He did not see this as a situation likely to call for soul mist-modified weaponry. Harkon was only along to deal with living hazards. He gave one last look around, and turned to Harkon. "Well, I imagine we can be on our way now. I don't intend to argue with the apparition, nor give in to any violent reaction. I will try to convinc-ce it that her s-s...child has moved on to be reborn. I need you to only watch my back from granidile danger and s-such. I think we should begin beyond the shops-s on the other s-side of the road. If you would like to lead. Lady Elantai indicates-s no particular locale to find the apparition."

[Viszragoneszh]

The human made some remark about Spiritists making better point men to track down a ghost. Goneszh' assessment of the man dropped a few points. He was beginning to wonder of the man was going to suddenly turn up back at the shop, flirting with that 'Elantai' woman. The Dhani hoped he would, the presence of the human was probably going to be a setback, since his human form was the least sensitive. He did not particularly think he needed the human to guard him. He'd only brought him to cooperate with Mr. Morealis' concerns. Of course, he was never more vulnerable to the attacks of swamp life than when in human form. And if he switched to Dhani or snake, it would be a great obstacle to developing any kind of rapport with the ghost. But the man did stay with him, and made himself genuinely useful, taking care of a few snakes and warning him of hazards like poisonous plants, quicksand and hives of stinging insects. Goneszh was familiar with swampy environments in general, but this swamp, while bestowing the luscious heat and humidity he loved, did not feature much that was familiar in the way of flora and fauna. The heat suddenly broke over the course of a couple of steps and then returned. It was what he'd been waiting for. He reversed his path back to find the cold passage. He started on a perpendicular course, making adjustments as he went, to remain in the track of the odd chill air. Given his choice he would have tracked the ghost in snake form, than transformed to human, and gotten dressed, to meet with it. But suddenly it was there, and saw them. His guard was still thrashing away at some vines, and Goneszh motioned him away. The spirit approached quickly. Goneszh hid his frustration, he had intended to coat his face with soul mist and attempt to give this ghostly woman the lie, but there was no time now. "You..." It cried, as it closed the distance. But it stopped short, rearing back sightly, not necessarily in wariness or suspicion, but more in reassessment. It's voice slid along the bands of sound, not quite registering fully with any of them as it spoke again, "You are...different. You...can touch the world...not like the others. Are you here to help me find my son?" there was suddenly a heartbreaking hope in her tone. Goneszh could see that this apparition sensed his affinity for the spiritual plane. He was unsure if this was going to be a benefit or not, but he decided to make use of what was presented him. "Yes-s, I am a S-spirit...man." It infuriated him that the title of his profession had so many petching "s"es in it. "I have been hired to help you look. The people here do not unders-stand how it is." he knew this to be an all-purpose remark to gain empathy. "No...they do not..." the ghost said, her voice seeming to need to catch up with itself to gather enough focus to be heard. Fortunately, Goneszh had learned to listen through this distortion. The woman's vice rose again in enthusiasm, "But with your help, we're sure to succeed this time! Follow me!" OOCHarkon has retired, so I'm trying to ease him out.

[Viszragoneszh]

The human did not keep up and was soon lost to sight as Goneszh hurried after the spirit, a plan forming in his head. He would not be able to use "The Lie" as he'd hoped, not with the ghostly female right here to watch the transformation with soulmist. Though ghosts were generally easy to convince this way, owing to their desire to have contact with the person the Spiritist was impersonating, he could not hope to fool her by transforming his image right in front of her. But there was the fact of her probably having no familiarity with the dynamics of Spiritist techniques. They reached a certain point in the swamp and the ghost stopped and turned back to him. Goneszh was not entirely sure if the spirit realized what she was. On the one hand, she seemed to realize her world did not respond the way it did for "the others", which clearly meant the regular humans of Kenash. But on the other, she didn't seem to be willing to acknowledge that if she was dead, her son probably was too. But it really was not unusual for a ghost to be reluctant to face the reality of their condition. His encounter with Shalita was different in that she was fully cognizant of her death. Her reasons for staying on were personal. He had let her possess him, as part of his effort to recruit her aid. In the process, he had gotten a glimpse of her past, which had included her grisly, bloody corpse, on the floor of a room in the presence of a skinny, frail-looking male that did nothing to offer any indication of caring. His travels had included encounters with Symenestra, and he'd concluded that this had been Shalita's fate. A victim of Harvest. His mother, Viszra, had told him of this. He did not necessarily hate the race for this method of reproduction, but he could hardly imagine a more horrific death. But he shook off this whole line of thought and focused again on his plan. This same ability to get glimpses of a ghost's memories while being possessed would be the first step. "He was lost here." The ghost said with desperate hope, "I'm sure we can find his trail now." She nodded eagerly, as if it would somehow bestow luck upon them. Again, the ghost's obliviousness to reality struck him. The word was that this ghost had been haunting this section of swamp for years, possibly decades. There was no way there could be any "trail" to find. But he could use this. "My lady! I think what we need is to combine our...contact with the world here. There is an odd feeling here. Do you not feel it?" She looked at him a moment and shook her head, seeming puzzled, but interested. He went on, "I think if you..."join" with me, our different..."feel"...of the area will combine for a better res-sult." She appeared at a loss for words for a moment, but clearly was willing, by now, to try anything. She came up to Goneszh and halted. He remembered how Shalita had said she'd never possessed anyone before. He assumed the same was true of this woman. It occurred to him that he was playing with fire here. If she found possession to give her a sense of empowerment, and he was unable to resolve her situation, he may be about to change her from a mere nuisance to a genuine threat. But he believed in himself. And what did he really care about these Kenashian humans anyway? These wretches that enslave their own kind. It sickened him to think that the Constrictors were now stooping to such an abomination. He hated the constrictors for their arrogance already, but THESE constrictors had become a stain upon even their own insufferable kind. He smirked as he considered how he might encourage this woman to possess THEM, and cause some REAL pandemonium. No, he had a job to do. He could not afford to appear to be unable to get this done. Once he'd established himself as above reproach, then could begin to pull such stunts. But for now he opened himself up and let the ghostly presence merge with him.

[Viszragoneszh]

The ghost's presence numbed him and he felt odd swings of dizzy momentum as his body moved without his impetus. This was normal though, and was actually, strangely exciting in a daring way. But he knew right away that this ghost's motherly drive was bringing him into a search pattern for her child. He got an impression of routine that convinced him that the spirit had searched these same patterns repeatedly. But rather than tedious frustration, there was a new hope that using the body of this spiritist was somehow going to bring success where there had only been failure thus far. Goneszh had expected to let the letdown be the instigation of his approach to getting her to let go. He'd figured to add a coaxing of hypnotism to make her realize that her son was truly gone, and that his spiritist affinities were what proved this sad news, rather than giving her cause to hang on. But he got a peculiar impression from her memories instead. A few flashes of images; she and her son, enslaved and abused; the inevitable escape attempt; the stealthy arrival at the Flower shop; the florist woman, Elantai, moving some heavy pots to reveal a trap door; underground tunnels; and with a surge of anguish from his inhabiting spirit, the crushing memory of the cave-in. He realized this was how this woman had died. She apparently believed her son had gotten out somehow and wanted to...what?...It started to appear in fuzzier images now. These were not memories now, but hopeful impressions of an anticipated contact with some people that would slip her and her son out of this slaver's city. This was the cause for her lingering; the thought that her son needed her to continue guiding him toward the..."Roo..." the "Roowa..." ..."Roora...ho..." He kept running this impression through his mind until it formed the name of the notorious slave rebels, the "Rujaro". This put an entirely different spin on his focus now. It appeared that the woman who ran the flower shop, ran escaped slaves as well. Now some of the mutterings about "rabbit hole", that the ghost carried on with, made sense. As did the florist's need to be rid of this spirit. If someone that was truly loyal to the slave culture here heard the ghostly woman's ravings. It could lead to a search and discovery of the escape tunnel. Goneszh had hoped to find a way to contact these people. They would surely support his effort to free his Iyvess brethren. It would no doubt take some reciprocal efforts on his part, some use of mysterious ghostly presence exaggerations to clear some people out of some areas at strategic times. Some con job to make superstitious neurotics run away to avoid coming in contact with an aggressive hostile ghost that he would claim was disturbing some place. Yes, he knew he could help them. He didn't really care about helping humans. But there was a reasonable call for some give and take in such a situation. Now though, he genuinely did need to get this anguished spirit to pass on. He could give her the lie now, having seen her own vision of her son's voice and appearance. But he needed to account for the gesture that would allow him to slip the soulmist onto his features.

[Viszragoneszh]

Goneszh had a spark of inspiration with the thought of "the lie", though. This ghostly spirit wouldn't know any more about the dynamics of reincarnation than any living mortal would. He could tell her anything within the realm of possibility, and for the same reason that ghosts believed "The Lie", she would believe THIS lie as well. She would believe because all ghosts are desperate to believe. He did not want to forcibly eject her from the current possession. That might provoke her to some obstinate mood. Instead, he focused on the image he'd gotten of the boy from her memories, her..."Branny" He started trying to speak, as though unaware that he would be unable to with her possessing him. As though the impulse to speak to her was coming from someone that did not know this. Her response was swift. She slipped free of Goneszh and turned to face him, eyes alight with loving eagerness, "Bran?...Branny? Is that you?" She grabbed Goneszh, enclosing him in a semi-ethereal hug. "Oh my baby! I've been searching for so long...Baby? Why don't you talk to me?" her expression started to crumple into confusion and wounded grief. Goneszh held off just a few moments to let her anguish build a bit more, then staggered and slumped against a tree, only partially feigning exhaustion. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I had a contact, but I could not hold it with you possessing me. It is coming from him. I believe he has held back from moving on. He is in a ...sort of...flux state, between the life he had with you and the one that Lhex holds for him to come. He can not come back, and is sad that you have not joined him to advance with him. I can perhaps let him speak through me." Anguished hope flowed across her image, ripples of desperation distorting her visage. "Oh please, yes, good Spiritist. Please let me speak with him!" in truth, Goneszh felt somewhat bad for the deception, but had long since built a wall of justification for it, on the grounds that it was to the benefit of all for unbalanced spirits to move on. Some ghosts, again Shalita came to mind, seemed clear on what their condition and presence was. When ghosts were in tune with the current world, and worked within it free of obsession, they were no worse than any other inhabitant of Mizahar. And while this ghostly woman was not currently of a malicious nature, her denial and impossible goal made her an inevitable problem. It was best for everyone if she was convinced to move on to a new life. One where the sorrow of this lost life would not become a grudge to corrupt her love of a dead son into an animosity for all the living. Goneszh breathed heavily a few times to give the image of a man knowing he was about to enter into a taxing effort. The ghost stood before him, tearful thanks in her eyes, for what she assumed would be a tremendous favor to a complete stranger. Goneszh had a sudden, random thought that in the near future a person would be born with an innate gratitude for Spiritists. He liked that thought. There seemed to be all too few of such folk. He put his hands in his pockets, covertly getting a large smear of the soulmist on them and pretending to be steadying, and readying himself for the upcoming ordeal. Then he shook himself loosely and squatted, putting his face in his hands. He rocked on his heels, moaning, with his hands to his face, as if it was just an instinctive, protective gesture of sensory focus and affinity. What he was really doing was preparing to give the ghost woman "The Lie". He smeared the soumist on his face as he concentrated on the glimpsed memories of the son, "Branny", short for "Brandon". As he rocked on his knees, he felt himself tighten his throat, in the way he would to modify his voice to match that heard in these same memories. Then he tipped forward onto his knees and slowly looked up, as if marveling to find himself in this spot. He focused on the face and voice of "Branny". "Mothah?..." he asked quietly, trying to sound as if his speech was still not perfectly coordinated.

[Viszragoneszh]

The woman's spirit dropped to its ethereal knees before him, joy and grief warring for dominance of her features. On the one hand, she now appeared to realize her son was truly dead. On the other, she believed his consciousness to be right in front of her, so she could tell him how much he meant to her; how much she loved him; how eager she was to grant whatever would let him have peace. She did not go into details of how long she'd searched, how long she'd denied herself the acceptance of his death. How much grief she'd endured. This was not necessary, and would only make it seem as though she considered herself the more important issue. Her love was absolute, and Goneszh found himself deeply touched. And though he felt a shame for using this love to trick her, at the same time, he was giving her something she had probably not had since the day she'd first rejected Lhex to continue searching for her son...hope. Now was the time to capitalize on that hope. Goneszh realized this manipulation was having bonuses he'd not even considered. This was not The Lie as it was usually presented. He was not trying to present himself to actually BE Branny; only a medium for the boy to speak from beyond. If the woman tried to test him, he could claim a sudden loss of connection, and maybe claim that it was caused by the son's distress that his own mother demanded proof. But this seemed unlikely. The ghost was literally swaying in rapture before him, thanking Lhex for his indulgence, swearing her devotion in her next life. Then it occurred to Goneszh what this woman was indicating. And he jumped on it. "Mother why are you waiting? Lhex will not wait much longer..." the Spiritist teased. "He has a new life for us. Let's forget the misery we suffered in Kenash. We have escaped it. We will be happy again..." Goneszh though for a tick that it might be necessary to mention the father and husband. But he decided to wait for a cue from the woman's ghost. None was forthcoming. She made no mention of any man whose presence was part of their happiness. Goneszh wondered if this was a mere oversight, or if the father had been some sort of cad. But the spirit cried ghostly tears of happiness and assured her son she was coming. Echoes of thanks reverberated into the swampy mist, and Goneszh found himself alone. He found a few tears standing in his own eyes, and felt as if he'd done something both good and bad. He knew that most people, including himself, knew nothing of what really happened in the cycle of rebirth. He reasoned that this woman would figure that her son, who she believed to be caught in that transition, would know what was true. She wanted so badly to believe. Goneszh also believed that mortals did not carry memories of one life to the next. This served to relieve him any feelings of real guilt for the lie he had perpetrated against her. Though it was somewhat melancholy, the woman's spirit had experienced more joy than she had in the gods knew how long. And now it was over. She'd passed on into the peaceful oblivion to await a life free of any pulls from the previous one. She would have no grief from the loss of her son. No horror over the thought of his agonized death. No letdown over the likelihood that her next life would be no better than her last one. And no memory of the Spiritist who had lied to her to get her to release her obsession. He wiped his eyes, hoping he was right about all of those things, and returned to the city.