Have to Swim Before You Can Walk... or Something! [Ayla]

[Cayenne]

Leeha nodded serenely, and shifted her baskets to free a pale, webbed hand to wave. "Go on," the elder encouraged, "and go learn." She could finish here, after all. Ayla had been pleasant company, but she had her own tasks set before her as an Acquitor. Besides, younglings needed to learn, and as far as the merchant was concerned, Black Rock was an excellent place to start out. Aside from being caught in the canals, which was an experience of its own, not a whole lot could happen to her. Sure, there was any number of malevolent ghosts that lurked around Black Rock, but the Omens were there to deal with them. Besides, if worst came to worst, the Acquitor knew where to find her, or retreat into the water.

"Do you see that building over there?" Abby pointed out a tall building to the south of the quays, near the coast. In the faint light of the morning, it emitted an eerie, ethereal light from the top that made it somewhat visible, even through the fog, in all directions. "That's the Lighthouse. That's where Percy and 'Phelly... well... Ophelia... are. Ophelia's her real name," the blonde clarified. "But sometimes we call her 'Phelly. She doesn't like that much, though, so call her Ophelia... 'kay?"

Cora and Abby led Ayla, one on each side, towards the building. And as they approached it, one thing became very clear to the Charoda, and that was that the Lighthouse was apparently a ghostly gathering zone. Various ghosts ranged around it, and the two girls didn't make any move to greet them, but just went on by to the inside, passing a stationary, black-cloaked Omen. Ayla, if she looked, could see nothing under the hood but a dark mask of a jackal. It was impossible to tell what gender the sentinel was, if any, and her escorts paid it no mind.

"Percy? Ophelia! We brought someone to meet you!" Cora sang out as they entered the chilly stone building, and started up the spiraling staircase. Abby let Ayla follow the brunette, and fell into last place. At the top of the stairs was an open room, and one ghostly girl, a little older than Cora or Abby, to look at her from behind, was sitting in the open window ledge below the strange light source that lit up the top of the lighthouse. It wasn't bright enough to hurt, but the Charoda could tell that something wasn't entirely right about it. Standing by the girl, though he turned to look at them, was a young boy with curly, reddish hair, his face covered in freckles. He, too, was a ghost, and offered a silent wave. "Ophelia?" Cora repeated, pausing.

"Good morning," the girl turned away from the window then, smiling at them. "You brought a guest. Hi there," she, too, waved at the Charoda. "You're new here. Welcome to Black Rock. I'm Ophelia, and this is Percy."

[Ayla]

Ayla wasnt sure what to ask questions about first as they arrived in the main room of the Lighthouse. The Omen, the peculiar properties of the Lighthouse itself, or why two ghosts apparently lived in it. Instead, she just decided to remember her manners. "Hello Percy, 'Ph-uh, Ophelia. I am Ayla, a rather new Charodaen Acquitor, and I am pleased to meet you." The Acquitor extended her webbed hand towards Ophelia, but then frowned. "I know shaking hands is a common greeting among land-walkers, but... is there some other gesture ghosts like yourself commonly use?"

The Charoda looked mildly chagrined, but smiled none the less and looked about the Lighthouse and then back to Ophelia. "Do you two live up here? Work here perhaps? Or are you like these two Younglings and simply roam free without a care?"

[Cayenne]

Ophelia smiled at her. The ghostly girl wore a sleeveless blouse and what must have been loose trousers at one point, which clung, as if wet. Her strawberry blonde hair clouded, as if it had been pooling in water. Percy's clothes, a shirt and breaches, were in no better condition. In fact, both Ophelia and Percy looked like they'd been thoroughly soaked... perhaps indicating the manner of their death. "You are most welcome here, Acquitor Ayla," the girl told her, smiling warmly. "Are you enjoying Black Rock so far?" she inquired.

She inclined her head slightly when Ayla offered her hand. "Ghosts can interact with the living world, but our touch is most unpleasant for those who are still living. If you like, you can try it," Ophelia's hand lost some of its blurry edges, and it was there, cold and tangible, if Ayla wanted to shake it. If she did, she would discover taking Ophelia's hand would be shockingly cold to the touch, painfully so, in fact. It would be like getting a cold burn. After a few moments, though, the blurriness returned to Ophelia's hand, and it had become ethereal, like the rest of her, once more. Percy was quiet, and stayed rather close to Ophelia, watching Ayla solemnly until Abby pounced on the boy and squeezed him in to a hug. He looked flustered for but a moment, but gave soon returned the hug. He looked to be some years younger than the Charoda's escorts, but when it came to accounting for a ghost's age, it was difficult to tell just how long one of them had actually been around.

"It's not a job, no..." Ophelia was quiet for a little bit, and turned her attention to look out over the bleak-looking, fog-covered waters. The boy looked at her, and looked at Ayla, then nudged Abby, who nudged him back. "Percy and I look after the Lighthouse. It used to stop emitting the light, sometimes... so we make sure it doesn't." By then she had returned her gaze to the Acquitor. "So it's not necessarily carefree, no. But we do live here... if you can call it living." There was a bit of a grin as her lips quirked.

By then, Cora had sneakily siddled in alongside Ophelia, and the older girl casually wrapped an arm around the brunette's shoulders, smiling down at her a little, perhaps sadly. "Ghosts are never free to roam without a care, Ayla. Never. But these two, they go to school when it suits them, if it suits them. They are not obligated to go, but I like it when they do," Ophelia eyed the youngsters, her silent companion an exception, "because knowledge is useful. Especially in the right hands, yes?" Cora giggled.

"What brings you to Black Rock?" Ophelia addressed the question to Ayla. "It's rather rare to see many of your kind above the waves."

[Ayla]

Ayla paused for a moment, looking at Ophelia's now tangible hand. She brushed just a tip of her finger against the ghosts hand, and instantly jerked it back once contact was made. Ayla had swam in some of the deepest trenches near Charbosi on the ocean floor, cold was little to her. But the ghost's hand had no natural cold to it. It was not something the Acquitor would likely do of her own free-will ever again. Instead she retracted her hand and listened to the older ghost talk.

"I am in Black Rock to learn. It is called Anthropology, in Common, I think. The study of people, and their culture. My title, Acquitor, means something more though." She cocked her head, for a moment as she gazed out the window at the foggy water. "Charbosi, the Charodae, lost much in the Valterrian. The Council decided it was time for an organized method, a codified group, to try and reestablish what may have been lost. Firstly and foremost, contact with others."

"While we frequent Black Rock very rarely, we do so else where none at all. The Land-Above, has become... hostile, towards us. But we hold out hope, that elsewhere, in lands far off, that there are those willing to learn, of us. Perhaps, to visit, re-connect." The Acquitor shrugged faintly, causing the tentacles upon her head to shift and dance.

She then smiled towards Cora and Abby, "I suppose I am like those two. Put in place to speak with others, and should they be willing, show them the sights." Absentmindedly, the Charoda rubbed her burnt finger with her other hand.

[Cayenne]

"Anthropology, yes," Ophelia nodded. "The study of people, of their culture, their history. Yes." She could understand that. "I think you're the first of the Acquitors that we have ever met up on the Land-Above, as you call it," the ghost smiled faintly. "Your task is truly enormous. But I won't say it is impossible. Maybe you will be able to find what you seek." Ophelia's gaze went back out the broad window as the eerie light above them moved, its beacon reflecting in the fog that hovered over the deceptively still waters.

"Mizahar is a hostile place," the ghost allowed as she squeezed Cora's shoulders. "Much has changed since the Valterrian ruptured the lands and the heavens alike." She directed her gaze at Cora, who remained under her arm, watching the Charoda. "And why is that?"

"The gods fought," the brunette offered. "And their powers overwhelmed everything and everyone." Abby nodded to lend her support to this statement. Percy was still silent as he watched Ayla, curious but detached all at once. Maybe he couldn't speak. He showed no interest in speaking, after all. After a minute, Abby half-dragged the boy down the stairs, and Cora glanced at Ophelia, as if wanting permission to go, too. The ghost nodded, and lifted her arm. "We'll be downstairs," Cora promised Ayla. "We won't leave you by yourself."

"Cora and Abby are friendly little things,"Ophelia agreed once the girls had scampered down another level with Percy, where laughter indicated they were playing some sort of game, or enjoying something, at any rate. "But they're not entirely like that. They like to watch the fishermen, or go to school, or come stay with Percy and I, or visit Maura in the Shroud. But Abby goes to watch the fishermen every day... to make sure that her father isn't among them. Abby wasn't from Black Rock. She found her way here with Cora, one day. They're from the northeastern region of Sylira. Cora doesn't even know why she lingers." She knew that Ayla hadn't meant to imply anything, but she just wanted to set the record straight before any misunderstandings happened.

"But tell me," she angled her head slightly. "How do you plan on bringing those who breathe air to the bottom of the sea?"

[Ayla]

Ayla smiled at Cora and nodded her head as the little ghost made her promise. After that, she devoted her sole attention to Ophelia. She frowned faintly at the information about Cora not knowing her prupose. The Charoda shivered, pondering the rather sad implications of that statement.

The Acquitor frowned faintly as Ophelia asked her question. "I... er- I... Well, I am not sure of that, to be very honest with you." She continued to frown, her eyes shifting down to the floor as she tried to think of a way to explain it. "It is, not that I am ignorant. Nor that the Elders do not trust me. It is simply... too important. To let me know." Her voice started to slowly become more and more accented, losing its normally near-perfect diction of Common.

"I am just to lead people to the shore. Either here, to Black Rock and our merchant. Or the coast. We hold a small... outpost, yes. Then, I swim. Find Elders. It... proceed from there." Ayla shut her mouth and looked out over the water, seemingly flustered.

Why have they never told me? To protect me? Protect Charbosi? I must assume so. The Council is smart. The young female nodded her head to herself and turned her gaze back to Ophelia, the smile returning to her face, the rows of triangular teeth flashing. "I know little of magic. And enough of plants to eat safely. The Elders, they have their ways, their knowledge. I am young. My knowledge is of people. And recording what I learn in our methods, song and dance. Or, swimming I suppose it would seem to you." She laughed and seemed perfectly at ease once more. Seemingly little could weigh down the Charoda's bubbly enthusiasm for long.

[Cayenne]

Ophelia listened with interest, and nodded. "I only ask because I am curious," the ghost told the flustered Acquitor, "not to put you on the spot. I am sure your elders are wise. Perhaps they do not say to protect you. Such an ability, to breathe on land as well as in the sea... is quite versatile. If someone felt you knew it, they could go after you to try to force you to divulge it." It was almost as if the ghost was reading her mind. But to Ophelia, these seemed like logical reasons. "I understand that Charbosi is quite peaceful. Such information in the wrong hands... could bring that peace and tranquility to a halt." She joined Ayla in looking out over the water.

"If you call it dance, then I call it dance. That's all there is to it," she glanced away from the water beyond the coast, smiling again. "I'm sure that it's truly beautiful to watch. The water lends a grace to it that the air cannot," she lost the smile, if only for a moment as she looked down into the rocks, her eyes dark. She remembered the water, pulling her down, the thick inky fluid filling her lungs, that terrible, chilling tiredness as her thrashing grew weaker and weaker, unable to reach the surface... And then the smile was back again, the flitting shadows gone from her eyes. Despite her words, Ophelia hated the water. The young ambassador might well have caught onto a bit of the ghost's emotion in that one moment that the smile had faded.

She may not have had long to dwell on it as Ophelia spoke again. "You've come to Black Rock to learn. So what sort of questions do you have?"

[Ayla]

Ayla was very quickly learning. Learning that her life up to this point had been nothing compared to the few ghosts she had met so far. Such history, and so much sadness. But indeed, Ophelia was better at quickly hiding her emotions then the young Charoda was, and once more Ayla had to think for a moment to answer what was a relatively basic question.

"Well, to be honest, I am mostly here in Black Rock as a stepping stone. The Charodae have been trading with your settlement for some years now, and over time, the merchants have passed on what they have learned. Of course, there are always new people to meet, and new stories, and even some new locations to explore. I have spoken much with Leeha, but she has not ventured far beyond her merchant stall." The Acquitor thought for another second, her head cocked slightly as she seemed to stare at nothing.

"I suppose I'm most interested in the Watchtower, and Dira's Spire. The first simply due to history, or what we have lost of it. Many stories have been lost over time for the Charodae, and those of the Watchtowers as they were before the Valterrian. Whatever I might learn of it could help my people. The Spire..." Ayla starte looked at Ophelia, then out to the water, then back to Ophelia once more. "I have... never been religious, as it were. The ocean is large, Laviku and Makutsi have always seemed... distant. The idea that Dira herself inhabits the Spire. Well, I cannot pass the chance to atleast observe such a location."

The young Acquitor laughed nervously once more and then smiled, "I suppose such an idea is mundane, to you. You are around it every day. And even if I do not see those locations, already this trip has proved worthwhile."

[Cayenne]

Ophelia listened, reclining in the open ledge that constituted a window. It wasn't like she had to worry about falling out or anything, after all - she was already dead. The most a fall could do, at this point, would be to marginally inconvenience her. She didn't rush the young Charoda across from her when she paused to think. It was a quality that a number of people lacked, but one that Ophelia valued and liked to nurture. It helped prevent disastrous consequences in a harsh, unforgiving world. What wasn't to like about it? Besides, the ghost had plenty of experience when it came to listening. She and Percy often listened to the children growing up on Black Rock when they needed someone to tell their secrets to. You didn't push - you just let it come out.

"Black Rock is very diverse, and yet very much the same," Ophelia told the elegant, turquoise-skinned creature. "The one thing we all have in common, living and dead, is our reverence of the Dead Queen," she sounded thoughtful. "The dead come because they are drawn here, for whatever reason. The living come because they worship Dira and believe in her ideals, and wish to be with others that share those beliefs. One can study Black Rock until the end of their natural lifespan, and still never learn everything about it. Between the stories of those who are alive, and the much longer and varied stories that come from those of us who only barely exist." The ghostly girl smiled at her. "To understand tomorrow, we look to the past."

She thought about the locations that Ayla mentioned. The Watchtower and the Spire. "The Watchtowers, all of them, from what I know, began to fail during the Valterrian. No one has emerged from or gone through Black Rock's Watchtower in over two hundred years," she shook her head, her seemingly damp hair staying in place despite the movement. "There are two still standing in Falyndar. Before the Valterrian, there used to be many more. But now," she sighed softly, "they're gone. History that will likely never be reclaimed." She was silent, reflecting on this statement for a while. "It can be talked about, learned about, studied... but the ancients that build them surely no longer exist. Else they would have done something about it by now, one would think."

"But the Spire... yes. There are places, you know, where the gods live amongst the people, and interact with them. Despite how much Dira has to do... one can sometimes find her in the Spire. When Dira is not in residence, we turn to Jaleryn and Vesta." Ophelia explained to Ayla. "She is very busy, you understand, but Dira often helps those who need it. Some way or another, each of us has been touched by the Goddess... and she sees each of us on our journey at the end of our life before we go on to the next one. But perhaps you'll be able to see her. It can't hurt to look, can it?" She smiled encouragingly.

[Ayla]

The young Charoda listened intently to Ophelia, her left hand occasionally rubbing her right where it had been "burned" earlier. But all the while, the Acquitor's eyes shined, obvious indications of her eagerness to learn what she could. "Yes, the Charoda have heard that the Watchtowers are no longer working. I would still very much like to venture inside it though. To... get a feel of it. Some among my people beleive one may have even existed underneath the waves, near the first site of Charbosi. Perhaps there may be some sort of indication inside one still standing."

As Ophelia moved onto the spire, Ayla again appeared to become nervous, almost fidgety. "I appreciate it, the chance to venture inside both places. Black Rock has much more intact history then Charbosi. The chance to learn something about my own people that we may have forgotten in our own ways, it is invaluable."

She gazed out at the water for a period of time before her gaze snaped back to Ophelia, suddenly concious of the fact that she was not alone and that the ghost was quietly watching the Charoda. "I am sorry, I do not mean to waste your time. Sometimes my thoughts wander through the dances and songs, trying to... peice things together. Make connections." She smiled, but then looked around the room. "I suppose you have things to... attend to. I am sure Cora and Abby will make able guides, unless of course you wanted to come along."