Closed I'm a Real Girl (pt. 2)

[Autumn Rose]

Winter the 90th, 519 AV

Spirits riding high in hope and threatening to cascade downward in worry, Autumn stepped out of the warmth of Infinity into the cold certainty of winter. Frosty air bit gaily at her exposed skin, the dress she died in not being one meant for the colder seasons. As soon as her foot found snow, she yelped and jumped back on to the protected porch of the Manor, laughing again at how exquisite being alive felt. She waited several moments, bravery to face the cold building in her, before she remembered Infinity lay behind her.

Turning back to the home, she tried to put any bad blood behind them. Autumn imagined that, if anything, Infinity regarded her with even more distrust and aggression now. She placed another kiss on its wooden door. “I’ll be back another day, Infinity. Please don’t shoot me in the back.”

She wasn’t sure if House smirked at that or hated her more for it. There were advantages to being dead, but Autumn didn’t have the time to worry about that now. There were more pressing worries, things like whether or not her friends were alright. She had checked on Gwenenveh already, and Jomi was dead. That left only Ennisa, though she wasn’t sure if the woman necessarily considered her a friend.

But Autumn didn’t care if Ennisa considered her a friend or not. The important thing was that Autumn considered Ennisa her friend, and Autumn always gave her own opinion more credit. She found that when people were being honest, most found they felt the same way about their own viewpoints, so she had no qualms about sticking to the things she thought. After all, Ennisa had personally invited Ambrosia to her apartment.

You can find me on the second floor of the Solar Winds. Mine and Itzi’s door is dark green with a circular brass doorknob. Just come in.

Those had been Ennisa’s exact words, if Autumn recalled them correctly. Ghosts had a lot of time to think, so while most people spent time sleeping, the restless spirits of the world pondered everything they had encountered, letting the words said bloom or fester as they would. Each day, Autumn played the events of the day over and over and over again in her head, sealing words away in her memory. She rarely remembered things wrong, especially since Maro’s loss. He had distracted her from the weight and worry of the world.

Now, he was distracting her again, but this new life was giving her an escape from that.

Several of Gweneveh’s clients were from the Solar Wind Apartments, and Autumn had tailed some home in curiosity. The Winds were not far from here, so Autumn took one step off House’s porch and set off through the snow, marveling at the way snow crunched beneath her feet. Despite the unique sensation, Autumn began to step quickly, not letting her feet touch the snow very long with each foot fall. It was cold. Crunch after crunch sounded, and Autumn realized it was to the beat of a song she had long ago known. The bitterness of cold and worry melted away into the notes of the song as she tried to dance to the tune that played in her head.

One foot planted at an angle while the other swept across the ground, sweeping a small arc through the snow, before attempting a quick twirl. Somehow, the first foot found the second, catching heel against ankle and sending her tumbling face first into a bank of drifted snow. She was still in sight of House and, imagining it was now laughing at her, glared back at it after pushing herself up out of the snow, but Autumn soon found herself laughing again.

Life was hard to get used to, much more so than death. In fact, it was so difficult people spent a decade or more getting used to it. Dancing had been something Autumn had enjoyed when she had been living. She dared to say she had been good at it, but decades of not using her limbs had stolen away what skill and coordination she had had.

Pushing herself up to her feet again, she dusted the snow off her dress and watched her skin turn red from the cold. These weren’t responses conjured up in imitation. They were merely her body doing what it needed to do to survive. There was no way around it now. She was cold. Still, memories of song and dance played in her head, and Autumn was powerless to resist them.

The song was one meant for fall celebrations, harvest time. It was a challenge, in its own way. Each verse started slow but quickly built its pace, then the verse after started slower than the one before had finished but accelerated to a pace beyond that which the first had reached. There was a set dance to it, and the verses went on and on in cutthroat competition until only one dancer was left. And then, in a complete change of tone, everyone cheered the final dancer on until they could keep up with the musicians and singers no longer. Competition and collaboration. Unity. Even the slaves had been invited to partake.

It was an old song, though, and, like many things, had long ago fallen out of popularity. When she had asked buskers to sing it in Black Rock and Alvadas, none of them had known it, but Autumn certainly did.

Drawing in a breath, Autumn wondered at the air that bit her throat and lungs. It had been a long time since anyone had felt that harsh of a bite, but it had been even longer for her. Her last winter had been the Winter of ’70. It had been mild. Black Rock’s winters always were. Nothing like this. Nothing like a mountain winter.

Her lungs weren’t sure how to control the air that rushed out of them, and her vocal cords were long out of practice. Though she hadn’t been a fantastic singer in her previous life, she had had a pretty voice, lower than some, gentle but inexperienced. Her voice faltered as she tried to hold the tune, her tongue sluggish from lack of use tripping over the words as she tried to speed them up.

Soft, they tread on the wake of summer
Thinking they would live forever.
Burning they changed in autumn’s slumber.
Tumble, fall, and fade wherever.

It talked of the falling of the autumn leaves. There were many, many verses, but Autumn stuck to the first one and kept it slow. Concentrating on singing and dancing together was almost too much at once for her newly living body to handle, but at the slow pace, Autumn was able to place her feet right and twirl and sway to the rhythm of her voice.

Before Autumn knew it, she was at the entrance to the Solar Winds, and her voice cut short. She had never been too fond of singing in front of others, so she stepped inside, lips closed, body shivering, and toes numb. The dark-haired woman cleaning the welcoming room of the apartments gave the barefoot woman who had stumbled in an odd look. Autumn’s attire was definitely not fit for a normal person in this season, but Autumn wasn’t normal. Not bothering to spend any of her precious time living on this stranger, Autumn strode confidently into the halls of the apartments, wandering them until she found the green door.

Just come in.

Autumn thought about that for a moment, considered just pushing the door open, but now that she was living, it seemed rude. Knocking to announce her arrival, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Ennisa looked up from whatever it was she was doing at the table. She looked no different than before, and Autumn breathed a sigh of relief to know the life had not been borrowed from her either.

Autumn gave her a happy smile as she continued shivering. “Ennisa, I hope it’s not a bother. You said I could come by any time, and I thought I’d take you up on the offer.”

Itzi looked up from where she was lounging lazily on the bed. It took her a moment to place where she recognized Autumn from. Then her eyes got huge. She might have been in a terrible place when they had met, but the young woman still remembered that Autumn ought to have been dead.

Autumn gave Itzi a gentler smile. “Itzi. It’s so good to see you. You look so much better than the last time we met.”

While maybe not the politest phrasing, it was true. The young woman had some color in her cheeks now and didn’t have that worn, wasted appearance to her body and her soul. It suited her, and Autumn could see why any normal person might pursue her.

Autumn’s feet were beginning to get their feeling again, and she was about to stamp them to drive blood and warmth back into them when a soft cry interrupted her thoughts. Her eyes went wide. Neither Ennisa nor Itzi were showing when they had last met. There was no way either could have had a child. Autumn hoped to every god and goddess that Itzi hadn’t been forced to bear Clement’s child. Without an invitation, Autumn went to where the child had been sleeping in a woven basket and looked down at it.

“Who’s is it?”

[Ennisa]

"speech"
"others"

Ennisa and Itzi were both home together, whilst Fennor slept in the crib. A low fire crackled desultory in the hearth, but it was fading quickly after they'd used it to boil water for the steaming kettle full of tea that still dangled over the fire, getting all sooty. The singular narrow window, in shelter from the sun, was cold and rimed with slight frost in the corners. Ennisa was accustomed to the apartment and its quirks, and she didn't notice the mess or the cool. The day had dragged; it was coming to the close of the season, and that end of season tiredness was kicking in.With that came boredom, a feeling that Ennisa hated. She wanted change now, something different, something fresh. She looked outside from her viewpoint at the desk, and scowled at the blinding white snow that still lay all about. Mother-petching snow. She turned back down to the journal lying open on the desk.

It was her journal, not the slim blue thing given to her by Madeira. Her own journal was significantly less tidy, and was full of her scribbles, sketches, and other such brain musings. Only recently, she'd come to the conclusion that her journal was a bit too personal, and now she was tearing out a page to work on developing a code of some sort. Unfortunately, she was drawing a blank. The pale page lay accusingly empty, and the quill hovered hesitantly above it as she thought, but no inspiration came. Giving up temporarily, she started scribbling, mostly about her little plans and ploys.

Finally, in a roundabout kind of way, she alighted on some kind of code, by means of a misspelling. Carefully she wrote out a test phrase: 'Go to the Infinity Manor'. Then, underneath this sentence, she began to remove the vowels, until all that was left was a string of letter: 'gtthnfntymnr'. Without capital letters, spaces, or context, it was fairly tricky to figure out the actual words. She smiled, a faint crinkle in the corner of her lips, and tore off a strip of paper. She wrote the altered phrase out again, and held it out to Itzi, who was lying on the bed nearby.

"Hey, Itz? I've got a question for you. Can you read this?" Itzi took the strip of paper and squinted down at it. "I'm not sure it says anything, Enni. Are you japing?" Ennisa looked mock-affronted. "Me? No, not at all." She sniggered, and probed again. "What do you reckon it says?" Itzi looked at the paper, and shook her head sighingly. It was just like Ennisa to come up with random drivel like this. Humouring her, she scrunched up her face and said, "I've no idea. No clue. Get then footy manner? Care to enlighten me?"

Ennisa squawked laughter at Itzi's guess, and bit down a mocking grin. "No, and nope! Thanks for trying though." Itzi rolled her eyes. "No problem." Sarcasm dripped from each word, but there was no real malice from either of them. Ennisa was more than pleased to know her rudimentary code held up, at least with this one phrase. She got up, chucked the slip of paper into the last remnants of the burning out fire, and retreated back to the desk. She'd just sat down again, when a knock came at the door, and a woman entered.

She looked up, alarmed but not scared, to see that the intruder was unmistakeably Autumn. The ghost who'd helped her with finding Itzi last season. Except, this woman wasn't a ghost, at all. Unless her eyes deceived her. This woman was human, really human, with bare feet and flushed cheeks from her travel through the cold. She got out of the chair to face her better and look her over more fully, amazement writ large across her pale face. Oh, this was different and fresh, alright.

"I... It's no bother at all, Autumn. What the petch, though?" She said this without any real bite. It was surprise and wonder that filled her voice. Itzi was the same, having rolled up into a sitting position, her eyes wide and bright and her mouth slightly open. Her memories of that time were a little fuzzy around the edges, and she hadn't really been fully 'with it' when they'd all walked out of Clement's house. She knew though, that ghosts weren't supposed to be so... fleshy. So... real. And Autumn was a ghost, wasn't she?

Autumn, looking radiant, had spotted the basket where Fennor was lying. He was now about a season old, in all his drooling and smiling glory. When he spotted Autumn, his little cries tailed off; his strange eyes widened and his little fingers curled. Then a toothless smile split across his face. A stranger! It was exciting for the little boy. New person! Ennisa hurried over, not out of mistrust, but because she knew her boy's peculiar nature. She wasn't surprised by Autumn's surprise, but nevertheless felt a little sheepish. How, in all of Mizahar, could she explain the boy?

Then again, how could anyone explain Autumn's... Autumnness?

"He's mine, Autumn. It's very difficult to explain. He, I... I had a dream. In an alleyway, somewhere, I can't remember. Then I woke up, and Fennor was lying beside me." She shrugged, even now bewildered by the story herself, but having somewhere along the line decided to trust Autumn with the truth of the matter, however vague and unenlightening it was. "I've not yet even petched a lad, so that rules that out. I can't explain him, at all, but he is mine. But what about you? How are you alive? And how are you? There's tea in the pot if you want any. Should still be hot, if you're a little cold."

credit : Ines

[Autumn Rose]

A new friend

Autumn had always had a soft spot for children, and babies were no exception. As the little one looked up at her, a smile, purely joyful as only a baby’s could be, beamed up at Autumn. In that moment, Autumn had already sworn that she would destroy the world for him, if that was ever necessary, though he wasn’t hers to care for. It wasn’t the first time she had dedicated herself to child not her own. The ghost considered little Candace as much her child as her parents’, and though Madeira had tried to make it very clear that it wasn’t the case, Autumn had adopted Emma as her own as well. There was a motherly streak that ran deep in Autumn’s soul from even before she had met Maro. If she thought about it, it had been there her entire life, so much so that it seemed engrained in the same soul that had been hers across her many lifetimes. It was inherent in her, and she couldn’t shake it.

Ennisa came to their side and explained abstractly how Fennor had come to be, a dream of a dream, but when she came to the end of the brief tale, there was one thing she was adamant about. “I can’t explain him, at all, but he is mine.”

More than a sense of responsibility, Autumn detected a deep pride in that. Ennisa’s questions turned to Autumn and the surprise the once-ghost had brought with her, but Autumn didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she reached down and wiped a string of drool off of Fennor’s cheek with her thumb, beaming a smile that carried more than a child’s ever could, an equal measure of the joy of wonder and the weight of knowledge, but she beamed it for him. “You are quite the little miracle, aren’t you?”

He gurgle-sputtered something in return.

Autumn raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? Well, we definitely won’t be telling your mother that.”

His language turned to that of a giggle-chortle, more rapid-fire and elegant.

Autumn gasped, held her breath a moment, then laughed. “Me? No, not at all.”

More chortle followed, much more longwinded this time.

“Yes, you do look a lot like her. You’re very fortunate for that.”

A shiver reminded Autumn that she had just been traversing the snowy mountaintop barefoot, and she looked toward the fire. Her hands went to her arms, rubbing to bring some façade of warmth to them. “I think I’ll take that tea now.” She looked back into Fennor’s basket crib and tapped his nose lightly with her fingertip. “You wait right here, handsome. We’ll be back.”

Making her way to the fireside, Autumn reveled in the heat that emanated from the dwindling fire. Warmth. That was perhaps one of the greatest things that told her she was alive. There was nothing warm about living an existence in death, and so to the feel the warmth of fire was to feel alive. Autumn smiled at this, took a nearby empty cup, and filled it nearly to the brim. Cupping her hands around it, she let the heat seep through the cup’s side, through her skin, and into her flesh. Flesh! It was still a wonder to Autumn that she had it. She wandered back over to Fennor, talking at him while talking to Ennisa and Itzi.

“How am I alive? I’m not quite sure, but I’m alive. There was a woman and a cart and a cauldron. It wasn’t the first time she stopped by the Lantern. The first time I accidentally dropped my necklace in, and the cauldron changed it. But this time around, the things I mixed came out as a jar of gems. I ate one, and…” She gestured to herself in all her aliveness. “The jar said Borrowed Life, but I didn’t think it’d actually work. When it did, I panicked a little. I don’t know who it’s borrowed from. That’s partly why I’m here. I wanted to make sure I hadn’t borrowed it from you. You look good. Do you feel off at all?”

Autumn waited for a reply before she answered the second question.

“How am I?” She sighed. It was odd to have all the physical reactions that accompanied emotions. The tightness in her chest as she truly thought about that was unexpected, and the sigh relieved nothing. She’d not had to wrestle with her feelings on a physical level in nearly five decades. It was a lot to get used to again all at once. She sighed again, to the same effect. “That’s a lot harder to answer. Things have been changing faster than I can care to admit and, I admit, faster than I can handle.”

Autumn tried to pull in a deep breath, but it caught. She let it out slowly, controlling her breath in an attempt to control her emotions. She hadn’t meant to make this night about Maro, but now, she thought it was perhaps the reason she had come to Ennisa. Ennisa had investigated Itzi’s ‘abduction’ and had found the truth of it. Perhaps she could do the same for Autumn and Maro. It was a lot to ask for someone who had not asked for her help, but Autumn needed as much help as she could find.

Autumn paused for a sip of the tea. Carefully, she went on. “I loved someone once, loved him more than I had ever loved anyone and in more ways than I had ever loved. He was an orphan, and I raised him, and I loved him like every mother loves their child. But he grew so quickly, and the love changed. He became a friend, and I have never loved a friend so dearly and will never love a friend so dearly again. And despite that, I think I was beginning to love him even more than that.”

To distract herself from the threatening emotions, Autumn reached down and tickled at Fennor’s belly, making gibberish noises at him in return, smiling and laughing as he did. When the rising emotions were dying down, she continued. “But before we could discover what any of it meant, he died, as all living things do, and death leaves the dead lonely. It took me some time, but I had finally resigned myself to existence without him. I left the city where we had last lived together and came here to escape. I thought I had.”

The next part was going to be the hardest for Ennisa to believe, but there were already two unbelievable, impossible things existing in the room with her now. “But nothing stays dead these days.”

Sipping at her tea again, Autumn let that sit for a moment. “He’s back. I don’t know how, but he’s back. Younger than he was when I last saw him, but it’s him. Not someone who looks like him. It’s him. Exactly. But it’s not. He remembers nothing, and the curiosity and wonder he used to have are gone. I’m elated, and I’m terrified, and I don’t know what to think.”

“I need your help, Ennisa, but not today. Today, I’m living, for the first time in half a century, and I want to enjoy it. So what do you two do for fun?”

Autumn didn’t think for a moment that that last question would satisfy Ennisa’s curious streak, but she had meant it. Whatever direction the other young woman decided to take the conversation was up to her.

[Ennisa]

"speech"
"others"

Autumn was right to think Ennisa was proud. Motherhood did funny things to the brain. Fennor, giggling like a perfect little cherub, made her smile with genuine pleasure as she watched him interacting with Autumn. It was nice to see her bringing out the best in him. As she watched Autumn 'talking' to him, subconsciously, she placed the ex-ghost into the comfortable position of 'friend'. "You're a dork, y'know?" She teased, but there was not a jot of malice in her voice or tone. She came up to Fennor and looked down at him as he reached out to Autumn, but the woman had already turned to the fire to get the tea Ennisa had offered previously.

She shot a wide-eyed glance at Itzi, who had straightened up and pulled out a chair for Autumn to sit on, if she so liked. Itzi padded over to the teapot and poured herself a top-up of the strong brew, which she swirled pensively in the bottom of the mug. "It's good to see you again, Autumn." Ennisa hmm'ed her agreement.

The explanation of how Autumn had become human was perplexing, so she decided she wouldn't try to fully understand what she meant. The mention of the cauldron sparked something like deja vu, but she couldn't place the source of this, and didn't mention it. Instead, she looked her up and down, noticing the flushed cheeks, the bright eyes, the way she held herself, and smiled.

"No, I feel fine." She looked down at herself as if she would see some physical sign that Autumn's magic gems had borrowed some of her vitality, but of course there was nothing out of the ordinary. "Anyway, if it is only a day or two, I wouldn't mind. You could even have today, if you'd like! I've not done much with it." She laughed, good-naturedly, flippantly. "Maybe it's borrowed life from someone you don't know. That wouldn't be so bad, would it? I think that a day or two of one person's life won't be missed. And you get to experience it again."

Once again, she found herself wondering about Autumn's past. She looked young, perhaps just a tad older than her, but being a ghost she might have been on Mizahar's good earth for many, many years more than the age she looked. What must that be like to experience? Ennisa couldn't fathom it, and she shivered slightly, the smile fading. Poor Autumn. Instinctively, she reached and tenderly smoothed Fennor's tendrils of blonde hair from his face.

As if she'd read her thoughts, the ex-ghost let out a sigh and began to talk a little about somebody from her past, a man named Maro. Itzi, who'd been standing close by, approached the woman and reached out to rub her arm consolingly as she spoke, offering comfort if required with a small, warm hand. Ennisa came to the other side of the woman, and though she didn't reach out or touch her, she stood close and listened more closely. So it was that the three women stood around Fennor's crib in a loose arc, listening to a story of a woman who had loved a man, once upon a time.

Once Autumn was done, Ennisa stood quietly and let her words sink in. Yes, it seemed improbable that this Maro, whoever he was, was now once more alive. Yet how could she disbelieve? Here was Fennor, and here was the living Autumn. What was one more miracle, however improbable, when compared to that?

For once, Ennisa didn't push or pry. Not much, anyhow. She was quiet for a moment whilst Itzi busied herself dumping cups in the wash bowl, and then bent to scoop up the kid from his bed. He wriggled a little, but soon settled into his loftier position. Speaking over the top of his head, Ennisa's gaze was frank and warm as she spoke to Autumn. "I won't pretend I understand what you mean. How can you know it is Maro - sometimes two people can look the same, or very similar. Maybe you just really want him to be him..." She tailed off, and saw Itzi frowning at her. She continued, "But I don't think that's it. I believe you. I," Itzi chimed in, "We," Ennisa continued, "Yes, we would love to help you. Anytime you need it. Though I might need to know a little bit in advance, what with Fenni and all." She nodded down to the bright-eyed babe, who answered with a hiccup.

"Say, would you like to hold him for a bit? No worries if not." If Autumn said yes, she'd hand over the warm, wriggling bundle, and she brightened as she considered her next question. "As for what we do for fun..! Well, all sorts of things. Earlier this season we had a great snowball fight, but I'm getting tired of all this snow. Itzi loves it though, don't you?"

"Mhm. We tend to just do things that crop up, Autumn. Ennisa loves a good prank, I like exploring. Before that one came along," she pointed at the baby, "We used to go down to the nearest place with alcohol every so often and get outrageously drrrrunk! That one," this time she pointed at Ennisa, who glowered, "Is a hilarious drunk. Absolutely forgets which feet are which. Hilarious." Ennisa would protest, but unfortunately it was true, so she just shook her head and sighed fake-dramatically.

"We're not much help, are we? Well, what kind of things did you used to do when you were, you know..- alive?" Ennisa said this a little awkwardly, but soldiered through nevertheless. "You won't want to be stuck inside all day that's for sure, so I suppose we should get kitted in winter gear and head out, if you'd like?" If the answer was in the positive, she'd rummage around and find her cloak and scarf, the latter which she would offer to Autumn to wear, to fend off the winter chill a little.

credit : Ines

[Autumn Rose]

back into the cold

It was odd to Autumn, to have such close connections with people she barely knew, but as Autumn recounted to gain and loss and regaining of Maro, Itzi laid a comforting hand on her arm. There was something different in that touch, not motherly or friendly. It was almost… sisterly. Her soul froze at that thought, and a wave of goosebumps swept up her arm from where the younger woman’s fingers rested. Despite years of swearing not to trust a living being again, here she was in their midst, sharing the bond that was the closest to familial she had come across in a long time.

As Autumn’s story ended, Itzi made herself busy cleaning tea cups while Ennisa waited processing the story in silence. Fennor protested slightly at being picked up but settled in easily to the comfort of his mother’s arms.

Ennisa, a mother? Yes, a mother. For a moment, Autumn had thought the thought would be odd, but as soon as it entered her mind, Atumn realized how right it sounded. The young woman had impressed Autumn with her dedication to Itzi,, and though that bond was one of a friend and a sister, it spoke of the lengths and depths a mother would go to in order to save a child. It was right that Fennor had been gifted to Ennisa; and Ennisa, to Fennor.

Ennisa finished with the most important bit, the words Autumn needed to hear. “I believe you.”

Itzi reaffirmed that.

Autumn took Fennor in her arms, smiling brightly at him, the two almost cross-eyed as they looked at each other from so close. Thinking for a moment, Autumn poked his nose softly, and he laughed again. She held him close, so he could feel her heart beat in her chest. Though he was so small, he was warm against her, and the immensity of holding life in her arms was astounding. She laughed at the thought of seemingly so responsible Ennisa being falling down drunk, and Fennor shifted in her arms. Unsure if she had disturbed him or if he was happy at the reverberation of her laughter in her chest, Autumn hushed him and rubbed his back. He quieted quickly.

“I’ve been a hilarious drunk myself a few times. I think we all are, at some point or another. I suppose I did the same things you do, back when I was alive.” It was difficult not to talk about herself as if she was dead now. She had been for so long. “I spent my time with friends, dancing and drinking and finding fun wherever and however we could. I’d be happy to get outside for a while. I spend most of my days dead pent up indoors. Fresh air while it actually means something would do me some good. Should be bundle Fennor up?”

Passing Fennor back to Ennisa, Autumn wrapped the scarf around her neck. “I’ll be honest,” she spoke up as the other two women readied themselves, “it’s been a long while since I’ve had a drink. I could really go for one right now. We don’t have to stay long. Taverns probably aren’t Fenni’s scene.”

As they stepped out of the apartment, Autumn realized she still had no shoes. Wandering down the halls of the Solar Winds, Autumn kept her eyes open. She had noticed several people had left boots outside their doors to dry after trudging through the snow. Seeing a pair that looked both warm and her size, Ambrosia looked about to see if anyone was watching. Seeing no one but her companions, she swiped them up, holding one finger to her lips to keep Itzi and Ennisa from saying anything.

“I’ll bring them back when I’m done. I promise.”

Quickly sliding them on and lacing them up, she scooted outside into the cold before anyone could discover what she had done. The boots, she found, were slightly too big, rubbing against the back of her heel with each step, but blisters were of little concern to Autumn. This limited life would be over sooner rather than later, and the measly discomfort of a blister was something she could live with.

Outside, Autumn suddenly found herself far less interested in drinks. Snow! This was the first time she had ever encountered it while living. Having grown up in Kenash where swamps dominated and the truly freezing days only ever brought frosts, this was a new occurrence for her. Sure, she’d encountered it, but that had been after she had died, while she was still a ghost. Snow wasn’t nearly so miraculous without a body to interact with it.

But here she was, alive again with plenty of snow about. Every step brought a satisfying crunch as she wandered out of the pathways that had been carved through the streets and on to ungroomed lawns. Finding a particularly open patch of yard generally undisturbed and free of boot prints, Autumn turned toward Ennisa, spread her arms out to her sides, and fell over backward, hitting the snowy ground with a muffled thump. Swinging her arms up and down in wide arcs, she carved a pattern in the virgin snow, making her mark on the unadulterated landscape.

If Ennisa and Itzi were staring at her, Autumn didn’t care. She had made tracks in the snow before while a ghost. She had even, albeit unsuccessfully, packed and thrown a snowball at someone and had once helped children build a snowman. But this? This was new.

Rolling up so she didn’t mar her creation with handprints, Autumn stood and stepped deliberately several times where her feet had been, creating her best impression of the fluke of a seal tale.

“Ta-da.” She presented her work to them with a dramatic flourish of her hands. “Snow Akvatari.”

It pretty much looked nothing like the real thing, but Autumn was proud of it nonetheless.

“Care to try?”