Madeira was wound as tight as a bow string, every nerve on fire and her mouth watering with stress as she watched Ambrosia come to life slowly. The barmaid would be disorientated and sore from possession, a familiar feeling Madeira called possession fatigue. The Spiritist's teeth were clenched as she willed the woman into alertness, only for the light to flicker from her eyes again as Lydia came roaring back into place.
“What was that? Who else are you hiding in here?”
Something was going on in her head that Madeira wasn't privy to. Not knowing what else to do, she closed her eyes and prayed to the gods, any gods, for help.
Eventually Ambrosia was back. She explained away a memory Jomi inhabited, and suddenly she was in her element, twisting and doctoring the truth. Eventually the lies got bigger and bigger until she was essentially telling a story. A strange, disturbing work of complete fiction of the kind told to scare children. But while Madeira played with emotions in her story, focusing on what would get a rise out of Lydia, Ambrosia focused on the logic of it. She filled in the cracks of the story with the details that every story needed.
But just as it was all coming together, Lydia made her demands. She quite liked Ambrosia's body. She wanted to keep it.
Madeira looked to Ambrosia, who was leaning on the far side of the wall, to her bag, which now was much closer to her than the ghost. What she really wanted was her bow, but to get it would turn Lydia hostile instantly. Madeira's mind whirled as she tried to figure out what to do.
"Okay", she nodded, hoping the ghost couldn't see the sweat shining on her forehead. "Okay, we can do that. You can have her body. There's a spell, a ritual. I've never preformed it but I've seen it done."
She gathered her bag, but was forced to hold onto the wall for balance as she struggled to maintain her balance. She took an inventory of what was left in the privacy afforded by having her back to Ambrosia. It wasn't much, just raw dough, and her ten ghostnails.
That was fine, she told herself. Tools could only do so much, it was her and Ambrosia that had to exorcise Lydia.
Scooping out the ten nails, she walked slowly back to Ambrosia. She showed them the nails, nine of which were a cloudy iron, and a special one made by Reimancy that was a mirror smooth black obsidian.
"I'll need to place these in a circle." she scuffed the old flagstone stone floor with her boot, and figured her nine inch iron nails could make it through with enough force, though not the obsidian. "It would be easier if we could go outsi-"
"No." Lydia shot her down aggressively, "We do it here."
Madeira put her hands up in a pacifying gesture, still holding the nails.
"Those are just nails", Lydia's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "what good will those do?"
"They'renot just nails", Madeira explained with a tone like she was disappointed Lydia didn't know. She handed one to Ambrosia, and Lydia made her take it. Like herself, the ghost could see the soulmist residue on imbuded things. And although she did not know what it meant, she could sense the power in it.
"They amplify the dijed needed for this to work, of course. Like glyphs. You need lots of power to pull a soul."
That was not how dijed or glyphs worked. Madeira was banking on the daughter of the merchant, in the city where it is outlawed, not knowing magic. Her misdirection paid off when Lydia's eyebrows drew together with confusion, but she did not ask more questions when she thought she wouldn't understand the answer.
The next half a bell moved slowly, as Madeira dug through the assorted refuse piled against the walls looking for something heavy enough to drive nails into the mortar. Eventually out of the pile of broken furniture she found a cast iron frying pan that would have to do.
She found an empty bit of floor in the center of the room, and between the slabs of stone she tapped the nails into a lopsided circle. She was too weak to get the nails more than four inches deep. She hoped that would be enough. She used one of the iron nails to make a hole large enough for the obsidian. Yet when she was done she didn't put it in right away. She kept it in her fist and turned to Ambrosia.
"You need to get into the circle before I close it." she said. Once she closed the circle, the ghost wouldn't be able to pass. If they could get Lydia inside and pull Ambrosia out, they would have her trapped.
“What was that? Who else are you hiding in here?”
Something was going on in her head that Madeira wasn't privy to. Not knowing what else to do, she closed her eyes and prayed to the gods, any gods, for help.
Eventually Ambrosia was back. She explained away a memory Jomi inhabited, and suddenly she was in her element, twisting and doctoring the truth. Eventually the lies got bigger and bigger until she was essentially telling a story. A strange, disturbing work of complete fiction of the kind told to scare children. But while Madeira played with emotions in her story, focusing on what would get a rise out of Lydia, Ambrosia focused on the logic of it. She filled in the cracks of the story with the details that every story needed.
But just as it was all coming together, Lydia made her demands. She quite liked Ambrosia's body. She wanted to keep it.
Madeira looked to Ambrosia, who was leaning on the far side of the wall, to her bag, which now was much closer to her than the ghost. What she really wanted was her bow, but to get it would turn Lydia hostile instantly. Madeira's mind whirled as she tried to figure out what to do.
"Okay", she nodded, hoping the ghost couldn't see the sweat shining on her forehead. "Okay, we can do that. You can have her body. There's a spell, a ritual. I've never preformed it but I've seen it done."
She gathered her bag, but was forced to hold onto the wall for balance as she struggled to maintain her balance. She took an inventory of what was left in the privacy afforded by having her back to Ambrosia. It wasn't much, just raw dough, and her ten ghostnails.
That was fine, she told herself. Tools could only do so much, it was her and Ambrosia that had to exorcise Lydia.
Scooping out the ten nails, she walked slowly back to Ambrosia. She showed them the nails, nine of which were a cloudy iron, and a special one made by Reimancy that was a mirror smooth black obsidian.
"I'll need to place these in a circle." she scuffed the old flagstone stone floor with her boot, and figured her nine inch iron nails could make it through with enough force, though not the obsidian. "It would be easier if we could go outsi-"
"No." Lydia shot her down aggressively, "We do it here."
Madeira put her hands up in a pacifying gesture, still holding the nails.
"Those are just nails", Lydia's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "what good will those do?"
"They'renot just nails", Madeira explained with a tone like she was disappointed Lydia didn't know. She handed one to Ambrosia, and Lydia made her take it. Like herself, the ghost could see the soulmist residue on imbuded things. And although she did not know what it meant, she could sense the power in it.
"They amplify the dijed needed for this to work, of course. Like glyphs. You need lots of power to pull a soul."
That was not how dijed or glyphs worked. Madeira was banking on the daughter of the merchant, in the city where it is outlawed, not knowing magic. Her misdirection paid off when Lydia's eyebrows drew together with confusion, but she did not ask more questions when she thought she wouldn't understand the answer.
The next half a bell moved slowly, as Madeira dug through the assorted refuse piled against the walls looking for something heavy enough to drive nails into the mortar. Eventually out of the pile of broken furniture she found a cast iron frying pan that would have to do.
She found an empty bit of floor in the center of the room, and between the slabs of stone she tapped the nails into a lopsided circle. She was too weak to get the nails more than four inches deep. She hoped that would be enough. She used one of the iron nails to make a hole large enough for the obsidian. Yet when she was done she didn't put it in right away. She kept it in her fist and turned to Ambrosia.
"You need to get into the circle before I close it." she said. Once she closed the circle, the ghost wouldn't be able to pass. If they could get Lydia inside and pull Ambrosia out, they would have her trapped.
