Flashback A Mist Connection

[Khazius Raine]

Day 27 of Winter 498

But first...

Some time during Summer, 513.

The ghost settled down, it's flickering image betraying a sense of...excitement? Khazius wondered if they could still recall that feeling, the prospect of something good drawing near, like the first rays of morning climbing the horizon and chasing the gloom away. Gloom had certainly featured heavily over the last few days. Usually that was the way of it, dealing with the ghost folk.

Bob had died but five years prior, shot through the neck with an arrow, the range and precision befitting of an expert marksman. But in truth it had been a terrible accident, made yet more comical for those with a morose sense of humor in that the shooter was drunk and blind in one eye. But these were mere details now. All that mattered was Bob's reluctance to pass on. Dira had been kept waiting, but shortly another would return home, to begin again.

Khazius and Bob, sat together now with all the familiarity of two old friends. A mutual respect wrapped them as warmly as the pleasant evening air. Zeltiva was never one to shy away from amicable weather. But while all seemed at peace, a slight sense of foreboding had gathered on the outskirts, watching with studious intent before daring to step closer still.

"I suppose it's time", Bob uttered. His ghostly tone, like most of the ghosts Khazius had encountered, had a strange resonance that at once set him at ease. He likened it to his father's bedtime stories, the tone of his storytelling both calming and reassuring.

"I suppose so", was Khazius' measured response. Time indeed. Bob's story was at an end. He had answered the spiritist's offer of help with acquiesce, his reason for lingering as a ghost now resolved. He would return to Dira, reincarnate, and be born again in the cycle. But one last question before he was done.

"Permit me if you will Khazius, but you never did tell me why you do this."

Khazius snorted, a hand scratching the back of his neck as it was prone to do when he was cornered. Bob had been persistent in his questioning, more out of curiosity than anything. After all, what purpose did it serve for a man to go around helping ghosts?

"I fear the answer would be long in the telling. Dira would have my balls if we kept her waiting any longer".

Bob chuckled at that, his image flickering once again. "If there's any justice, you'll come back as a mute. Then you'll rue the day you were such a tight lipped sod."

The two chuckled again, before silence once more engulfed them. Bob continued to flicker, a little more as the minutes passed, as he grew nearer to the end. Khazius seemed to have lost himself in a thought, staring off into the distance, before coming to with a start. Without looking up, as if he still held something in his gaze, he spoke in a whisper almost.

"Marina was her name. The first one. The first ghost I mean."


Day 27 of Winter 498

Khazius marched triumphantly along the street, still smiling from ear to ear as the others finally caught up. The tall, stringy lad had taken offense to the accusation that he was as slow as an ox. Charley, he was as much use in a race as a one-legged pirate. Jesse could run all day, but he lacked pace. No, it was Fenwick who might have presented any challenge. But Fenwick had proven incapable of rising to the occasion. The excuses would inevitably come tumbling out, once the lad could catch his breath.

It was getting late as the boys meandered through Zeltiva's streets. At an age now where disapproving parents were not as strict - Charley's mean spirited dad the exception - they wandered with careless abandon, unaware of the freedom they truly possessed at this age, and complaining of the perils of being just seventeen. Tough life for a kid.

Tonight the winter had chosen a coat of mist before venturing out, swirling and twisting around tree limbs and lurking in dark corners. A layer of grey began to hide the ground, as if claiming it all for itself. As for the chill, it seeped through wools and cottons, up sleeves and down shirts, making itself known with expert cunning. Not even Fenwick's thick scarf was proving much of a defense tonight.

"Alright lads. I'm off 'ome, " Charley proclaimed, the thought of his father's inevitable tongue lashing creeping along with the cold. He wasn't sure which one the shudder was from.

Fenwick too announced his departure, before Jesse piped up in his high pitched squeal. "Over there. See? I swear it was something. Someone".

"Just the mist, you idiot", Charley offered with a toothy grin. But just then the mist moved again, forming into a more tangible shape than the mist was prone to do.

"What is that?" Khazius asked rhetorically with genuine interest. The shape was definitely moving, the mist flowing and flickering as it plopped down on the side of the road.

"Well, I ain't waiting around to find out. Bloody mist or no, that thing ain't proper." Jesse's opinion was echoed by both Charley and Fenwick, all equally unwilling to access their adventurous side it seemed. With that, the lads scarpered, leaving behind shouted requests that Khazius join them.

But what was that thing?

Khazius wouldn't forgive himself if he passed up a curiosity such as this.

[Marina Agamand]

Again, she was home. After completing yet another world-around travel, here was where the end of the circle connected to its beginning. But there was no feeling of warmth or nostalgy. There was no feeling of accomplishement. Instead, there was only vast, bottomless frustration, that grew stronger every time she returned here to the steps of her house in Zeltiva, after completing another fruitless lap around Mizahar. "Nothing has changed since the last time I was here." These were the only coherent thoughts that could form in her mind, among the torrents of rage and frustration. The possibility of giving up didn't cross her mind. She would throw herself at the wall over and over, innumerable times; a wall that she had no hope of breaching, yet there was no way except forward. Indeed, she was back at the beginning and nothing to show for her efforts. Her efforts to obtain help on her quest, a quest she could not do alone, have so far all proved to be for naught. And no, she hadn't sat in the corner sulking; she was proactive. She traveled from city to city, looking for someone willing to help, talking to everyone she could, but no one wanted to listen. No one wanted to share her problems, as they had their own to worry about. Why would anyone make sacrificer for her sake? Although surely, there are people out there that would. It tugged at the corner of her mind that she, in fact, didn't talk to everyone, and didn't make every effort. She has been avoiding Spritists, the people most likely to listen, yet also the people most likely to undo her. One part of Marina's mind praised her caution, while another part berated her cowardice. "I can afford to be patient" is what she always told herself, but it didn't help. Her anger at own powerlessness didn't lessen at all, and she had no one to share it with. Finally snapping out of her conflicted internal dialogue, Marina looked around. She has been on the move all the time, and was now on the outskirts of the city. The streets were dark and empty, with the residents having already retired to rest after a day of hard work. This was probably why no one laid notice to her barely visible, half-transparent form floating along the quiet streets. A gentle evening mist was sweeping in from the docks, making the surrounding buildings look like lazy giants resting on feathery cushions. The soothing atmosphere, instead of having a positive effect, only fueled Marina's rage. Feeling a sudden pang of jealousy towards humans. "So, they can just go home and rest, forgetting all their worries? This is utterly unfair! I cannot stand this!" Reaching her limit, Marina crouched down near a tree and cried, hugging her knees. Her throat made no sounds, and no tears formed in her eyes. Visually, she looked like a girl simply lost in thought. However, the immence waves of negative emotions that emanated from her would strike anyone nearby as hard as a real wail overflowing with despair. Noticing that she was no longer alone, Marina turned her head towards the voices further down the street. In a short while, she could make out a single figure of a young boy in the thin mist. Finally finding a target to direct her rage at, she stood up from the ground and hissed at the boy, her resonating voice betraying her unstable condition. "You should just die..." She crouched down and picked up a small stone off the street, with the clear intent to throw it at the hapless interloper. Alas, her soulmist couldn't manage that kind of force. The stone slipped right through her ephemeral palm and fell back on the ground with a dull sound. Understanding that she will be unable to harm the boy, which would have been a great way to release her pent-up emotions, Marina's anger turned to melancholy. In the end, she was insufficient even to throw a pebble. Her desire to create a nature-defying artifact, essentially move a proverbial mountain, looked almost comical next to this. Already forgetting about the boy's presence, the ghost sat back down under the tree and continued to suffer in silence.

[Khazius Raine]

While intrigue had fear pinned down, it allied itself with caution as Khazius took a tentative step forwards, his eyes trying to decipher the shape that nestled in the mist. It was big enough to be a person; a child perhaps. Before he could venture closer, the image had risen from the street side, a young face emerging from the mist as it's eyes regarded him. While still hard to make out, he wagered the face was that of a young girl, perhaps twelve or thirteen.

But those eyes.

At seventeen, Khazius literally found himself unable to find the words. At its most simplest, he could have described those eyes as purple. But a strongly opinionated inner voice yelled its protestations. That single word didn't begin to encapsulate the unfathomable wonder that filled his young mind. Never in his life had he seen anything like it.

At once filling him with unmeasurable disbelief that what he was seeing was real, so too did he become suddenly aware of how small and insignificant he was in the world, the realization crushing him with pounding, merciless fists. The fact was rather simple. He had met a handful of other races from beyond the confines of Zeltiva. He'd read and listened to stories of creatures and beasts that roamed the dangerous wilds of Mizahar. But in that moment, looking at those eyes, he knew then that there was much more out in the world than he ever dared to imagine before.

The maelstrom in his mind was quickly quelled as the being spoke. "You should just die", it had issued at him, the voice filled with iron intent. For a moment he didn't know if it meant him, or maybe humans in general. After all, he had surmised by now that this thing before him was anything but. He continued to watch as it reached down to grab something from the street. The aborted attempt at clutching something seemed to send it into a depression, as it plopped down once more on the side of the street.

Khazius had at this moment a decision to make. On the one hand, everything he knew or believed was telling him to turn around and leave; to ignore what he had seen and put it down to the mist playing sinister tricks. But on the other hand, the seventeen year old boy who grew up with an almost unhealthy curiosity and wonder told him to press on. To be fair, it was an inaccurate portrayal of Khazius to suggest his mind was equally of those two halves. Curiosity was by far the dominant.

But it was more than that. Perhaps a tell tale sign of his mother's influence, Khazius had a caring streak in him. It was his perception, despite the shrouding mist, that something wasn't quite right here. The young girl emitted a feeling of despair that only served to draw him closer. Stepping forwards, he bowed his head slightly to try and get a better view of her face.

"Excuse me? Um, are you okay?" he asked with genuine concern.

[Marina Agamand]

Marina loathed people. She loathed the ignorant, unobservant people who went on about their lives without noticing the misfortune around them, both of of the creatures around their societies, as well as their fellow human beings right under their noses. But even more, she loathed the people who were not that; people whose attention she could not escape. People who cared. People who wanted to make a difference, for the better or worse; who would with righteous vigor and heavy armament pursue her. Often enough, she would leave on her own volition when spotted around most settlements, in order to avoid being apprehended by these sharp and attentive people. It would be false to say that she has never been approached with good intentions. But always, it would turn out to be simple human curiosity; pure, honest and without malice, but useless. It is easy to feel sorry for someone, but helping is something not many are willing to do. Because human time is so fragile and limited, expending the valuable resource on strangers is the key to failure in one's short life. Or because simple laziness and apathy are the common traits that all mortal races are victims of. Either of these is a good enough answer, Marina always told herself, and moved on. She would move on after this boy left, as well. But for now, he was here, and there was no reason not to answer his question, as simply and honestly as he had posed it. "No." The girl was unsure whether he realised how lucky he was, that she was weak. Had she any finer control over her Soulmist, he would have that pebble lodged firmly in his skull. Humans fear ghosts not without reason. She had felt it herself, the rage intense enough to fuel and endless massacre, provided one had the ability. And she was far from the only ghost who felt that way; on the contrary, many of her fellow apparitions that she had met have been quite vocal and desciptive about all the terrible things they'd do to the long lists of people that had offended them in life. And not too few of them had the power to carry out those terrible things in full. Surely, Marina would do terrible things as well, if she could. Noticing that she has calmed down enough to string throughts together, Marina raised her head and saw that the boy was still in front of her. She stood up to her feet, still having to look up to his face. The spectre looked into his eyes with a weary but unwavering gaze, trying to understand why he was here with her during this cold winter evening, when he could be comfortably tucking himself into a warm bed at home. If anything, this degree of persistence was enough to warrant an introduction. Marina Materialised, attaining an additional shred of color and solidity, and held out her ice-cold hand to him, in greeting. "I am Marina. May I know your name?"

[Khazius Raine]

No sooner had he issued his question did Khazius get a better look at the girl before him. The mist had almost parted like curtains at some strange, night time theater, introducing its cast for the evening. Even in the dark, with the flickering and useless candlelight dotted around in various windows about them, it was clear to him now that this was no girl. The eyes should have been evidence enough of that.

As if reading his doubts, the apparition stood up and faced him, a shimmering silhouette that seemed shadowy and unreal, yet there was no doubt in his mind that this was real enough. Curiosity had led him to many a tricky situation or two, but this one was king of them all. In that moment, a sense of dread reared its ugly head, long, slender fingers of fear groping wildly at him, clutching at the corners of his mind and trying to pull him down into a sea of hopelessness.

But it wouldn't have been a fight without an opponent. Closing his eyes for a fleeting moment, he mastered his fear with whiplash ferocity, like the taming of some great and terrible beast. He couldn't lie. He was afraid. A new fear that he had never before felt. But he would not run. His fear threatened to topple over him at any moment. But he held on.

When his eyes opened, the shadow before him began to change. The misty greys and whites took on a new palette of vibrant color, her charcoal hair now becoming the darkest black/blue that hung straight and long. She lifted a hand which she presented to him, telling of her name and asking for his in return.

If it were true that Marina loathed the unobservant and the observant even more, there was little hope indeed for mankind. Curious creatures that they were, sticking their noses in and interfering. But say one thing for humans. The trading of names was an age old tradition, so deeply ingrained in the sub-conscious that it came as naturally as breathing.

So then, unaware of his luck at Marina's lack of strength, and ignorant to her hate of the ignorant, his only option now was courtesy. After all, manners cost nothing.

"I am Khazius. I, um...". His words fumbled as he instinctively took her offered hand, finding it ice cold to the touch. For a split second he almost pulled his own hand away, reeling from the shock of her touch.

But in an instant he remembered himself. Remembered the myriad of things his mother always said, about how it was rude to stare, that people were different and came in all shapes and sizes, and that while it was easy to feel sorry for people, 'helping is something not many are willing to do'.

"I'm sorry if I startled you at all. It's just that I thought I saw someone sitting down on the side of the road and, well, you know, it's late and all. I just wondered if perhaps you needed any help."

[Marina Agamand]

The boy shared his name and took the cold hand offered to him as if it was nothing. Perhaps, just like Marina herself, he was still unburdened by the veil of secrecy that shrouded the adult world. Every piece of information was a weapon that adults used against eachother, and did not share without a good reason. Even something as basic as one's name was not something that every stranger had the privilege to know. This childish, unrestrained honesty that suspected no evil from anyone was something Marina was drawn to, without realising it, and without understanding that she wanted everyone to be like that. She wanted everyone to be children, untainted by lies and suspicion, just like her. Marina let her eyes trace Khazius' form with a judgemental look, pondering whether to use the prefix "sir" when adressing him. It was hard to tell why the ghost still cared about such details in her current form; yet she still strived to behave properly with various kinds of people, considering it an important part of who she was. When she was alive, she was taught the importance of hospitality; to kindly and attentively receive people who come to speak, regardless of whether they are seeking or offering something. After a few seconds, she had made her analysis. The boy was dressed simply, but his gentle face and curiously sparkling eyes did not carry the heavy mark of poverty. Being more comfortable with polite speech, Marina decided to talk to him as an equal. Somehow, he reminded her of one of her older brothers. Perhaps it was because of the concerned look of her face, as her brother was always worried about her. Catching herself thinking nonsense and pushing it out of her mind, Marina turned her attention back to new acquaintance, and offered him a small smile that didn't hold any kind of enthusiasm. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir Khazius." He offered help, and Marina needed it. However, her expectations were low. What could this boy possibly do for her? It wasn't like food and shelter was what she needed. But the spectre wasn't in a position to pick and choose her allies. She understood that he could most certainly not offer the kind of help she needed, but an unknown feeling tugged at her mind, telling her not to push him away. Her eyes trailed off to the ground, stopping on the pebble she tried to pick up earlier. Just then, Marina was struck by a pang of regret. Just by trading pleasantries with this boy, her anger has already calmed, and she inwardly berated herself for raising her hand against him. This would never have happened in life; at that time, she would never even think of hurting anyone. After coming to know frustration, after coming to know futility, she was no longer an innocent child. In this boy, she saw something that she'd lost, and she was drawn towards it like a moth to a flame. But she was still skeptic. Ultimately, what did this boy have that she could possibly want? "If you are offering help, I will... ah..." Marina noticed that she still hadn't let go of his hand, which was turning dangerously white from her icy touch. She hurriedly withdrew her own hand and looked away apologetically, holding her hands behind her back, as if hiding something she didn't want him to look at. After an awkward pause, the spectre suddenly realised what she wanted. The thing that she was trying to identify, but that was slipping away from her until now. Looking at Khazius shyly from under her bangs, the phantom girl told him what she really wanted from him, as she finally understood it herself. "I am a little bored, so would you wish to keep me company for a short while?" What Marina didn't think about, and probably Khazius neither, that "a short while" could mean decades by ghostly standards. Of course, this was a problem that would make itself apparent only later. Not to mention that night had already wrapped Zeltiva in its dark and misty cloak, bringing with it dangers that only an already dead person could afford to ignore.

[Khazius Raine]

True indeed that Khazius didn't see evil. For the young boy, such a thing was to be found in stories and tales. Sure, he'd gotten into fights over mean words, or seen deeds carried out by angry looking folk, but never did he attribute those things to evil. It was naive of course, an outlook that could be blamed on and was thanks to his parents. Mostly his mother. She saw the good in everyone, said that we all had it. Just some showed it more than others.

For now, it perhaps never occurred to Khazius that the opposite could apply too. He would learn though. Life has a habit of teaching that lesson so very well.

Being called a 'Sir' was certainly an icebreaker if ever there was one. Though the only ice right now was his hand, seeming to freeze over as the girl continued to hold it. Too polite or unwilling to offend, he had not tried to free his poor hand, until finally she relinquished her hold. Doing his best to disguise his confused discomfort, he shielded the offended appendage in his pocket, scratching at the back of his neck as he was prone to do when in an awkward moment.

He was a little taken aback at first when she mentioned her boredom. This strange and exotic girl, at first a mist dwelling shape with piercing tanzanite eyes, who had morphed into a solid figure of vibrant color, was now asking him to keep her company.

Well, what could be the harm in that?

Khazius' original fear and curiosity had given way now to a pang of excitement. It might have been exhilaration perhaps, but the lad was keeping a lid on that. It wouldn't hurt to keep his wits about him still. She was unpredictable. But regardless, he was seventeen. They were easily led astray at that age. Thus, while the night sky watched over them and the cold continued to prey on any it could find, Khazius ignored the voice in his head that reminded him of the warm hearth back home.

Putting a comical expression of pondering on his face, he held one arm crossed, propping up the other that held his chin, like a professor standing over his laboratory trying to decipher and calculate all manner of conundrums. His brow furrowed, he issued an audible 'Hmmm' for effect, before looking back to the girl as though suddenly coming to a realization.

"Put aside the everyday world and come with me into a realm of imagination!" he said with an honest and wide grin. "The middle ground between light and shadow." With that, he took a few steps back, before turning and heading off down the street. He looked back over his shoulder to see if the girl with the tanzanite eyes would follow.

[Marina Agamand]

"The middle ground between light and shadow...?" Not expecting such a poetic line from this straightforward-seeming boy, the ghost repeated his words, as if trying to discern a hidden meaning. Curiosity crept into her, sparking wonder and speculations about her new acquaintance. Just as Marina moved to follow Khazius, the shadow of a figure moved in tandem, having lurked in a narrow alley between the mist-wrapped buildings for an unknown amount of time, without being noticed by the pair. As the Materialised ghost walked past the alley, the shadow rushed out onto the starlit road to intercept her. It was a boy around Khazius' age, but he looked much different. A frayed and patched burlap cloak did little to hide his lanky figure, and his greasy, uncut hair stuck to grime on his face. As the boy's eyes made brief eye contact with Marina, his arm shot forward, like a coiled-up snake pouncing its prey. His thin, but quick finger grabbed the corner of the ribbon tried on the spectre's chest, with retreated back under the boy's ragged cloak as swiftly as it had struck. Naturally, his hand remained empty; the ribbon was still neatly tied and rested comfortably on the ghost's chest. Surprise crossed the boy's grimy face, but his reaction was not delayed; he sprung back into the alley and vanished from sight, as if he was never there. The whole incident lasted no more than three seconds. It took Marina some additional three seconds to recover from confusion. Finally processing what just happened, the phantom's face twisted into a sardonic grin, aimed in the general direction of the boy's retreat. This was far from the first time this happened, and it was not exclusive to Zeltiva. In any city she visited, when walking around Materialised at night, at least one instance of attempted robbery was inevitable. Even the most lawful society had its ruffians, and no ruffian could pass up on an extravagantly dressed little girl strutting through the streets all alone in the middle of the night. Marina briskly walked to Khazius' side and offered him a reassuring smile, and spoke casually. "Pay it no heed." While talking, she looked into her new companion's eyes with a distant look on her face, as if musing about something. Like she noticed before, Khazius' eyes held a spark of life, and now that she had something to compare them to, it was so much more noticeable. That spark of life was something that could not be taken for granted. Never having looked in a mirror after having become a ghost, Marina didn't know whether that warm spark was present in her own eyes... and she dreaded one of the two possible answers. The poor boy's eyes flashed in her mind. They were beady, murky, and devoid of any hope or enthusiasm, much like those of a fish thrown out on beach by the waves. Maybe this is why she had never before met a ghost of someone who had lead a squalid life. Objectively speaking, a ghost had it much better; detached from material needs, it could truly be a luxurious existence. But in practice, the truly poor didn't think about that; they had no expectations of anything and simply wanted to pass on to the next life when they died. Forcing the melancholic thoughts away, the girl attempted to resume the much more pleasant earlier conversation. "A realm of imagination? Could it be a magical portal? Might you be a wizard, sir Khazius?" The questions she wanted to ask him filled her mind once again, and she looked at him with eyes full of expectation. "Please lead me; I am eager to visit this enigmatic world."

[Khazius Raine]

The street urchin had disappeared back from whence he came by the time Khazius turned about, catching just a brief glimpse of the figure before it was swallowed in the night. Marina instructed him to pay no heed, though he was somewhat frustrated that Zeltiva had chosen to show its ugly side just now. If anything he was more embarrassed, hoping that the incident wouldn't damage the ghost's opinion of the city beyond repair. With all the people that came and went through Zeltiva, he hadn't considered that she might well be a local herself, and thus fully aware of the sorts that could roam the streets at night.

Soon enough the two ventured onwards, Khazius chuckling with genuine amusement at the mention of his being a wizard. "If I were a wizard, I think I might summon a warmer coat." For a moment he thought to ask if Marina was cold herself, but all things considered, he decided she probably was not. Still unsure of what she was, the ghost none the less looked at ease as they walked, as though the cold held no sway over her.

It had also occurred to him that his offer of a realm of imagination may have been a flourish too far, for she seemed to consider his true destination a place far beyond his means. But Khazius pressed on in earnest, hoping that where he was intending to take her would suffice all the same.

Soon enough the strange pair had made it as far as the docks, where the mist had gathered its strength and sort to shroud all in its mysterious embrace. Dim lights battled to break the gloom here and there, but were swiftly swallowed once more as grey entrails of dark night engulfed them once more. There was a tender breeze in the air, serving to transport the bitter cold as it floated about with ill intent. Down here by the sea was certainly even colder than back amongst the streets, and Khazius was certainly feeling it more than ever. His hands had become like Marina's almost, ice to the touch.

"See there? That's the ship my dad is working on. He's a shipwright. Come on, let's go. We're almost there."

The ship in question was one of the famed Mizaharan, native to Zeltiva and Zeltiva alone. Sturdy, confident and intimidating as far as ships went, it also carried a certain elegance about it, as though despite its size it would skim the seas at incredible speeds. That Khazius' father was working upon this most recent addition to the Zeltivan Navy was testament to his skills as shipwright, though the son was apparently quite modest about it.

The Mizaharan was but a temporary distraction though, as Khazius dropped down from the cobbled street and onto the network of wooden piers and walkways a few feet below. Pausing to allow Marina to join him, he worked his way with the ease of someone who knew this place all too well, the ship bells cheering him on in the breeze while one inadequately tied sail had gotten free of its rigging to offer him its applause, slapping against the beams as Khazius glided by.

Soon enough they'd reached their destination which, as far as Marina could tell, was the end of one particular pier that had no defining features or attributes to set it apart from any of the others dotted along the docks. Khazius had sat himself on the very edge, looking out to sea as though the mist wasn't restricting his view to several feet.

"Do you see?", he asked excitedly.

Khazius extended an arm to point off into the distance, into the grey murkiness and beyond. Anyone might have though the boy completely mad.

But then she saw...

The incoming storm was still far off from the city, judging from the barely audible boom of thunder every minute or so. But the lightning was another story. As though the grey and dark night was a canvas, the lightning was a master artist, splashing its palette with broad strokes and vibrant color, creating masterpiece after masterpiece that only lasted a second at a time, but repeated again and again.

The end result was a spectacular thing, the mist seeming to energize with each burst, until it became clear that it was working in unison with the lightning, the two combining to create this fine display of nature that, honestly, no race of Mizahar could hope to mimic or recreate with the same majesty.

"Light and shadow!", he announced triumphantly, his eyes filled with wonder as he looked upon the spectacle, daring only for a second to look away to see if it had had the desired effect on his new acquaintance.

Sure, it was by no means a portal to another dimension. But then, it really depended on how you chose to look at it.

[Marina Agamand]

The dull sound of waves crashing against stone alerted her that the shore was nearby. Following her companion closely, Marina tried to recall any memories she might have had about the docks, but not much came to mind. She has only visited this part of the city a few times in her life, and never as a ghost. Khazius sure knew the docks well. The huge, black silhouettes of the warehouses and wharves all looked the same to the spectre. Were she on her own, she wouldn't be able to navitage without floating above the rooftops and getting a bird's view of the area. The boy, on the other hand, seemed to find his way effortlessly, even in the blinding darkness. Marina looked at her companion with a hint of admiration in her eyes. While also native to Zeltiva, the girl had only minimal practical knowledge about her city. Back when alive, her time outside was mostly spent on traveling along pre-determined routes between her home, the University, and certain cultural establishements close by. As far as she was concerned, the rest of the world didn't even exist. Even after death, she had never really explored her home city; the thought never occured to her. When the buildings were behind them, the docklands finally lay unobstructed before her view. Wrapped by the mist as if by soft cotton, the towering figures of ships reminded the ghost of captive whales, bound to the shore and stoicly waiting for their masters to return in the morning. Apparently, one of the larger ships was being built by Khazius' father. A family of shipwrights? The spectre's opinion of the boy rose even more; as a Magesmith, Marina was partial to creation of any kind. She had a faint understanding of the complexity of shipbuilding thanks to some of the lectures at the University, and became curious about whether the boy next to her was going to take part in it someday. "Will you also become a shipwright, sir Khazius?" Marina followed Khazius down onto the piers, wondering just what is it he wanted to show her. The mist and darkness made it rather difficult to see. Multiple times, the apparition would discover that it was walking on thin air next to the pier rather than on the pier itself, and hurried to correct the embarrassing mistake. Luckily, the boy didn't have this problem, striding safely in the middle of the wooden pathways as if they were lit by bright daylight. It was fortunate that he was so attentive, the girl thought, since in his case, walking off the pier would have been a problem. Eventually, Khazius made a turn onto a pier that looked like a dead end. There was no ship docked here, and there were no notable items on the pier itself, either. A bit confused, the ghost still followed the boy's lead faithfully. When the wooden walkway eventually came to an end, with only an endless misty void beyond it, Marina's patience gave out and she decided to ask why he brought her here. Following his direction, she stared as hard as she could into the mist. When she saw a lance of lightning plunge into the sea, followed by the distant roll of thunder, she was shocked, turning her head to her guide in disbelief. "How did you..." Only a split second later, she realised that the phenomenon itself was not the boy's doing. But the question she just asked could still be salvaged sensibly. "I meant to say, how did you know?" The ghost turned her gaze forward again. The dim, white flashes lit up the mist over the sea in front of them; the obfuscating mist made the sight look truly mystical, as if it really was the work of some fantastically powerful wizard. A small smile touched the corners of Marina's lips. In the end, Khazius was not a wizard after all. While one part of her was somewhat disappointed, another part of her scolded herself for demanding so much of the boy. After all, he did show her something magical. "Yes... it is beautiful. You have entertained me tonight; I am in your debt." Marina made no movement to leave, gazing steadily at the spectacle unfolding beyond the milky veil, as if she was in a theatre watching an actual play. She couldn't feel the wind, but judging by that it swept Khazius' hair off of his forehead as he faced the sea, the storm was moving in this direction. Shortly, it would roll over the city, testing its toughness with its violence. But Marina wasn't worried. Storms were not uncommon here, and the sturdy buildings and ships were built to withstand them. They stayed like that for a short while, enjoying the force of nature put on display for them, along with the haunting atmosphere of the docks at night. A small drizzle began to come down; the ghost didn't even notice it until she looked at Khazius, whose hair began to stick to his skin with the moisture. Worried that he might become uncomfortable, or even catch a cold, Marina decided to conclude tonight's cultural program and allow her guide to retire. "The weather turns unfavorable, sir Khazius. The storm will arrive soon. We should hea-- aaaahhhh?!" Her sentence was interrupted by a deafening crash, as a single ray of lightning pierced the sky and struck the middle mast of a large ship docked at the pier next to theirs. The mast split evenly in two, nearly all the way down to the deck, but still somehow remained upright. The tongues of flame that sprung up across the woodwork were quickly extinguished by the rain, which was beginning to pick up in intensity. A sudden sense of dread engulfed Marina; a mind-numbing terror that didn't even compare to the fear she felt when chased by a Ghost Hunter, who could actually harm her, unlike the lightning. Still, for some unknown reason, she just wanted to get as far away from here as possible. Barely resisting the urge to de-Materialise and blink her way out of the city, she instead grabbed Khazius' sleeve with both of her hands, causing the raindrops on his jacket to turn into glistening pearls of ice. With a shaky voice, she uttered the only thing on her mind right then. "Let us leave for any other place. Now."