Fall the 52nd, 519 AV
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Candace's house
A thrill filled Autumn, a giddiness that she hadn’t felt for a long time, not since Maro and not until recently. Tonight, she was going to visit her favorite person in the entire world. While others tended to show fear and discomfort at Autumn’s appearance, this individual did not. She welcomed Autumn any time the ghost showed up. Since the two had met, Autumn had made sure to visit at least every other day, sometimes more frequently and less often less. Every time, her friend greeted her with the same smile, and that made Autumn happy she had decided to come.
The night had just begun, Syna’s light having given way to the light of the stars, and pleasant conversation and light laughter wafted its way through the walls to be heard the passers by and by Autumn who lingered just outside her friend’s window. Ghosts weren’t welcomed by most, and Autumn was certain her friend’s parents would not approve of their friendship. That was why every night she came her routine was the same.
First, with her shoulders letting the night air roll through them inconsequentially, Autumn slipped through the window of the second story. It didn’t matter that the window catch was firmly latched. It didn’t matter that the glass panels of the window were well made and wouldn’t let any wind through. Autumn could have found her way inside if it had been a solid wall.
Secondly, she kept her essence unmaterialized, floating in the nothingness and listening to the things around her, waiting for her friend’s parents to leave before she wove herself out of the void and into existence. Several times she had entered her friend’s room and had found her parents present, and patiently Autumn waited for them to finish talking and say good night.
Then, when they were alone with nothing more than the glitter of Lhavit and Zintila’s stars peeking through the panes of the window, Autumn breathed a life into the room that the living could not. Harnessing every bit of the strength of her soul that she could for her friend’s sake, Autumn would appear in as much color as she could muster, stand over her friend’s bed, and whisper a greeting. Sometimes, her friend was already awake, eagerly waiting Autumn’s arrival it seemed, while other times she was still asleep. Either way, it didn’t matter. As soon as her eyes fell on Autumn, a smile rose to her face.
And then Autumn would spend a few hours with her friend, sometimes doing nothing but exist in the presence of each other and sometimes holding a long conversation in which Autumn revealed some new amazing thing she had seen in her long existence on Mizahar.
Tonight was no different. Her friend’s parents were entertaining friends downstairs, and so Autumn breezed through the window, ruffling the curtains with a playfully placed shove of projected mist as if she were some errant autumn gust that had found a way around the shutter. Finding the room empty as she had already suspected it would be, Autumn began her steady transformation from empty air to beautiful yet ethereal young woman.
Hers had always been a gentle materialization, like the slow dawning of a memory whose finer points were hazy but erupted in their full glory if given enough time. Always the most vibrant and detailed were her eyes, and they were always in full color. As her materialization came into its full effect, Autumn leaned over the cradle and whispered at the baby inside.
“Candace, wake up. I’m here.”
Sleepy eyes opened slowly and looked at the figure standing over her. Her small face contorted, twisting up as if the baby was about to cry.
Autumn reached down, her voice beginning to make the soft coos and hushing noises most people used to placate babies and young children, but before her hands even touched the child, before she could speak her first sentence, a smile burst across Candace’s face. A chortle-giggle, like the ones only a child her age could make, escaped Candace’s lips as she drooled on herself.
Autumn laughed but not so loudly those downstairs would hear. “You brat! I almost thought you were going to out me. Don’t do that again.”
Candace looked at Autumn curiously, then smiled even brighter, and chortled again.
The night had just begun, Syna’s light having given way to the light of the stars, and pleasant conversation and light laughter wafted its way through the walls to be heard the passers by and by Autumn who lingered just outside her friend’s window. Ghosts weren’t welcomed by most, and Autumn was certain her friend’s parents would not approve of their friendship. That was why every night she came her routine was the same.
First, with her shoulders letting the night air roll through them inconsequentially, Autumn slipped through the window of the second story. It didn’t matter that the window catch was firmly latched. It didn’t matter that the glass panels of the window were well made and wouldn’t let any wind through. Autumn could have found her way inside if it had been a solid wall.
Secondly, she kept her essence unmaterialized, floating in the nothingness and listening to the things around her, waiting for her friend’s parents to leave before she wove herself out of the void and into existence. Several times she had entered her friend’s room and had found her parents present, and patiently Autumn waited for them to finish talking and say good night.
Then, when they were alone with nothing more than the glitter of Lhavit and Zintila’s stars peeking through the panes of the window, Autumn breathed a life into the room that the living could not. Harnessing every bit of the strength of her soul that she could for her friend’s sake, Autumn would appear in as much color as she could muster, stand over her friend’s bed, and whisper a greeting. Sometimes, her friend was already awake, eagerly waiting Autumn’s arrival it seemed, while other times she was still asleep. Either way, it didn’t matter. As soon as her eyes fell on Autumn, a smile rose to her face.
And then Autumn would spend a few hours with her friend, sometimes doing nothing but exist in the presence of each other and sometimes holding a long conversation in which Autumn revealed some new amazing thing she had seen in her long existence on Mizahar.
Tonight was no different. Her friend’s parents were entertaining friends downstairs, and so Autumn breezed through the window, ruffling the curtains with a playfully placed shove of projected mist as if she were some errant autumn gust that had found a way around the shutter. Finding the room empty as she had already suspected it would be, Autumn began her steady transformation from empty air to beautiful yet ethereal young woman.
Hers had always been a gentle materialization, like the slow dawning of a memory whose finer points were hazy but erupted in their full glory if given enough time. Always the most vibrant and detailed were her eyes, and they were always in full color. As her materialization came into its full effect, Autumn leaned over the cradle and whispered at the baby inside.
“Candace, wake up. I’m here.”
Sleepy eyes opened slowly and looked at the figure standing over her. Her small face contorted, twisting up as if the baby was about to cry.
Autumn reached down, her voice beginning to make the soft coos and hushing noises most people used to placate babies and young children, but before her hands even touched the child, before she could speak her first sentence, a smile burst across Candace’s face. A chortle-giggle, like the ones only a child her age could make, escaped Candace’s lips as she drooled on herself.
Autumn laughed but not so loudly those downstairs would hear. “You brat! I almost thought you were going to out me. Don’t do that again.”
Candace looked at Autumn curiously, then smiled even brighter, and chortled again.
