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[Ennisa]

11th Autumn 519 AV, early morning, before light
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"Gods petching damn it!!" Emma, Madeira's oh-so-angelic little ghostling, smiled at her sweetly but said nothing. Ennisa didn't let herself get drawn into arguing with the child. That hadn't been going well, so far. It had taken quite some time to get used to being followed by a ghostly apparition. After the disastrous evening at the Scholar's Demise, Ennisa had wandered about and finally headed home, without any clear idea of what she was going to do. Emma had, of course, followed her. Up until she had gotten into bed, Emma had been quiet. Perhaps she was shy, or maybe just daydreaming about whatever gods-forsaken things go through a ghost's mind.

It had been with great trepidation that she had lain in bed, especially as Emma drifted closer, her gaze curiously focussed on her. She'd tried turning over onto her right so as to avoid the ghost girl's gaze, but whatever she did, the little girl followed her. Apparently, she was a devout servant of Madeira's. Ennisa had rolled her eyes, and then resolved to shut her eyes and just get some sleep.

Which had been exactly when Emma had prodded one ice-cold finger between her ribs. Her neighbours probably thought that she was being murdered, when she thought back on the ear-piercing scream she'd howled into the chilled room. Obviously, her neighbours didn't care enough about her to intervene. She was only glad that Itzi was out that evening, otherwise they would both be as exhausted as she felt now.

It had become useless trying to shut her eyes. Every time she did, the little girl either prodded her, or blew icy air into her eardrum, or screamed in that horrendous way that only little girls knew how. The effect was only amplified by the ghostliness of the screamee. For the sake of her sanity, she now sat upright and waited for the daylight to come. Then she would get up, force herself to eat breakfast, and go and figure out a way to free herself from this nightmare. Except, her eyes kept drooping without her consent, and each time...

"Would you just quit it? I'm not going to fall asleep!" She swatted at the girl, who looked affronted. "Uh uh, won't. I'm going to win this game." The ghost beamed. The smile contained not a drop of awareness of the suffering she was causing. Ennisa rolled her eyes, "Yeah yeah, the soulmist, right?" Emma nodded earnestly. "Madeira seems like such a lovely woman." Her voice was tinted with sarcasm, but she was honestly too tired to put any effort into the malice, and she tailed off.

Instead, now that the grey light of dawn was beginning to change the sky, she swung herself out of bed and reached for her journal. There was just about enough light to see. Maybe she could concentrate enough to write something. That would take her mind off... things.

Ennisa unscrewed the lid of the ink pot and dipped the quill into the inky blackness within. The blank page of the book stared back at her. Inspiration seemed to be lacking. She held the pen over the pages, ready to write, but each time she started, the words kept disappearing again. Petch it. Eventually, her thoughts turned to Madeira, and she decided to write down what she already knew in the hopes that getting her thoughts down on paper would help her when the day came and she needed to investigate the infuriating, mysterious woman.

Madeira, she wrote, is a blonde woman fond of wearing blue. She is a spiritist (??), this means something to do with ghosts? Emma is her ghost. She was sitting in the Scholar's Demise by herself. Was she waiting for someone? Was she just having a drink? She looks wealthy. Does she have a standing in Lhavit?

There were too many questions that she didn't know the answer to. With a defeated sigh, she stopped writing, and stared blankly at her own writing, waiting for inspiration to come.

[Ennisa]

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Dawn's light was a slow creeper at this time of year. Ennisa paused with the pen still in her hand and gazed idly out of the window. It would probably be another gloriously hot day. In a way, she would be glad of the heat. All night she'd been snuggled up with the blanket in an effort to get a bit warmer. Somehow, Emma seemed to be causing an aura of chill. Combined with the heat, Ennisa imagined she might be in for a more mild day than most Lhavitians. She attempted a smile, but her face was not cooperative, and the smile turned into more of a limp twitch of the lips.

Nevertheless, it was a beautiful sunrise. She whispered a blessing to the goddess Syna, in thanks of her warming light. She squinted, because it had taken her all night to get accustomed to the lower light levels, and now she was being accosted with sweet, yet fiercely bright sunshine. She wasn't complaining, it was just a bit of a shock to the system. She shook her head to wake herself, and looked down at the book lying idly in her lap.

What was I going to write? She looked over the passage about Madeira, and flicked through the rest of the book. It was a mess; filled with scribbles, doodles, random thoughts and questions circled many times over. Carefully, she turned a fresh page. It was still too early to expect to get many people to ask, and Ennisa was too tired and groggy from the bells of darkness she'd just suffered through. Instead, she set pen to paper, and began to draw.

It was Emma that she attempted to draw. The little girl didn't really stay still, though Ennisa had to admit that the child had more willpower than she let on. If it had been Ennisa tasked with keeping someone awake all night, she would have fallen asleep herself long ago. Then she remembered Madeira's words. Ghosts don't sleep. She shut her eyes in exasperation, but she heard the little girl gathering herself to scream, and quickly opened her eyes again.

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" She hastened to pacify the ghost. Emma merely looked at her, eyes wide in concentration. Ennisa looked at her, into her eyes, but suddenly she looked away again. There was something disconcerting about the ghost child. She felt sure that there was something awful lying behind her eyes. Something deeply, deeply upsetting. Ennisa didn't know how to react to such a thought. Instead, she tried to draw the ghost. Her drawing was terrible, but she enjoyed the way the ink flowed out of the pen onto the paper.

She tried to sketch her face, but the shape of her dress proved to be the easier target. She left the ghost's face blank, and instead slashed long lines down to imitate the way the fabric fell. Really, it couldn't be actual fabric, because the girl was dead. But, it looked like a dress. Right? Ennisa wondered, once again, just what she was having to deal with. Was the dress just imaginary? Did Madeira create the cloth, somehow, for the ghost to wear?

She decided to ask Emma. After all, if they were going to be spending time together, it wouldn't hurt to ask a few questions to get to know her new... chum. "Where'd you get your dress, Emma?"

The ghost stared at her, but didn't answer. Ennisa waited patiently, but it looked as if the girl either didn't want to answer, didn't know, or had just forgotten what the question was. Ennisa tried hard not to roll her eyes. She muttered under her breath, "It's not like Madeira told you not to speak, but fiiine..." She finished the rough sketch she was doing and snapped the book shut. She put the pen away and then stood up with a flourish and a stretch. The bones in her joints creaked, and she wiggled her legs a little to work out the mild cramp. She had been sitting in a funny position, apparently.

"Right, Emma. Day has dawned. Time to get out and about." The ghost didn't say anything, but she drifted closer to watch Ennisa. The woman in question was grabbing her things, and some breakfast too. She had some leftover bread from yesterday's lunch, and half a mug of stone-cold tea. It was the tea that she went to first, and she knocked the stuff back with only a small grimace. The bread was dry, but she wasn't really hungry anyway. She stuffed the rest of the crust into her pocket for later, and slung the rucksack onto her back. Finally, she wriggled her toes into her boots, and set out from the flat. Emma followed behind. The day of investigations was beginning.

WC : 803

[Ennisa]

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The day was bright and clear. Sunlight streamed down onto the mountain city, its heat undeniably too warm for this time of year. Ennisa did her best to ignore the unseasonal weather, although she did find herself enjoying the heat as it beat onto her pale skin, especially after a night spent in the presence of a ghost. She ruffled her hands over her forearms vigorously to get the blood moving, and wiped her face with her hands to wake herself up.

It didn't really work. She groaned softly under her breath, and stood in the sunshine just outside the Solar Winds Apartments, trying to think. Emma, Madeira's ghostly servant, was investigating a trail of ants curiously. Ennisa watched her idly for a tick or two, then shook herself. Her wonder, and bemusement, would have to wait. She supposed the best place to go first would be the Scholar's Demise. Someone there might remember and know who she had been talking to last night. Someone of her standing would surely be known. Ennisa remembered the way Madeira had spoken. The woman certainly seemed sure of herself.

Her mood blackened with second-hand irritation from the evening before, but she began walking over to the Scholar's Demise anyway, as she was at a loss to where else she could investigate. It took several chimes to walk to the Demise. It was situated along the edge of the Surya Plaza, the same as her home, so it was certainly not a long walk. The plaza was oddly quiet, but then the city had been somewhat tense of late, so she didn't think too much of it. After a couple of chimes, she arrived outside the tavern. The windows were propped open to allow light within, with the added charm of allowing the faint, bustling sound of pub chatter to languidly drift out to the street below.

She looked up at the well-known exterior of the rather dowdy-looking Scholar's Demise, and pondered her best line of questioning. She glanced behind her at the innocent expression plastered across Emma's face, and internally groaned at the added complication of her new 'friend'. Emma, whose mental stamina far surpassed her age, appeared to be taking a breather from constantly monitoring Ennisa, and she was playing with a circular bit of wood lying on the dusty floor. Ennisa smiled at the sight, then remembered she was looking at a ghost child, and the smile promptly slid from her features.

To resolve the unfortunate situation she found herself in, she had to figure out where to find Madeira. To do that, she had to start asking the questions that would lead her to the woman. And to do that, she had to enter the Scholar's Demise. Ennisa approached the door, and stepped within.

Lhavit's dual nature meant that the tavern was about as busy in the early morning as it had been last night. A couple of elegant Ethaefal looked up from their position nearest the door as she entered, but resumed their conversation once they realised she was nobody important. Ennisa ignored them both, and hesitated as she looked around for the Ethaefal who had served them last night, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. Behind the bar, there was a male Ethaefal, and so Ennisa approached him hoping to find more answers.

"Hi, 'scuse me." She smiled at the Ethaefal. Like most of his race, he was stunningly handsome, though his eye was covered by a velveteen eyepatch that marred his otherwise pretty face. The man wasn't busy; he turned his attention to the young woman in front of him. "What can I get you?" He regarded her with his one golden eye. "I'm not looking to get a drink. I was in here yesterday evening. I had an... argument with a woman, and I'm looking for some information on how to find her. I don't suppose the bar tender who was in here last night is around, is she? My name's Miss Sky."

The Ethaefal smiled good-naturedly. "An argument. Well, you'll be thinking of Aleah, my wife. She is having a rest right now. Perhaps there's something I can help with instead?" Ennisa bit her lip and thought how to continue. Maybe this man would know, especially if Madeira turned out to be a regular. The Scholar's Demise was such a popular establishment, after all.

"Perhaps you would know. I introduced myself to a woman last night. I accidentally offended her, and now I want to make amends." She practised her best shame-faced look, and tried to ignore the cool waft of Emma nearby, who looked faintly puzzled. After all to her, this was all just one big game. The man narrowed his eye, and brushed a stray lock of russet hair from his cheeks, slightly unconvinced by her display. SHe pressed on. "Her name was Madeira, she's a Spiritist. Do you know where I might find her?"

WC : 824

[Ennisa]

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The Ethaefal rested a hand on the counter and nodded at a patron that had approached, to indicate he would see to his order soon. "Madeira, the Spiritist. You understand a lot of people come through these doors. I don't get to meet all of them." Ennisa's lips narrowed, but then the man continued. "However, Madeira is someone I know about, if only a little. I believe she is affiliated with the Towers. Perhaps you might speak to some of the mages. They may have a little more information for you. I do hope you manage to sort out the differences between you. Come and celebrate it with a drink, if you do." He smiled, a wickedly handsome little smile, and Ennisa grinned in response. "Thanks. I don't think I know your name, I'm sorry..." She drifted off. He replied as he began crafting the next cocktail. "I'm surprised. My name is Roric, co-owner of the Scholar's Demise."

Ennisa flashed a quick smile, but it was time to leave. She beat her retreat, with Roric's information wedged in her mind. Yet, though he had been helpful, she wasn't quite sure what to do with the information he'd provided. She knew surprisingly little about the Towers for one who had grown up in Lhavit. She didn't have a magical background - as far as she knew, there was not a mage in the family. The Towers were a vague concept of wealth, power, and unobtainable things. So unobtainable that Ennisa almost didn't care about them. Almost.

Like a lot of Lhavitian children, in her youth she had often dreamed of the power and freedom that being a Tower mage entailed. She and her younger brother Seth would often pretend to be from a family of mages, though they didn't understand the concept of magic at all - it was the idea of being wealthy that held the draw. The Tower families were well-known, famous people, whose status often gave them a kind of privilege that Ennisa had come to view with distaste. Yet, unlike the Shinya or her parents, they never really seemed to have any direct effect on her life, so she didn't really care.

Despite all this, there was the undeniable fact that the Towers were especially unapproachable in the current political climate. Ennisa, though quite foolhardy, wasn't entirely stupid. She didn't have the right kind of credentials to go waltzing up to the Towers and demand they tell her where Madeira the Spiritist was. No, she would have to go about this some other way. She racked her brain as she walked, with Emma trailing after her, until she alighted on what seemed to be a neat solution.

The Basilika would do. It was a place where people went to talk, so naturally Ennisa would be able to find people who might know the woman. Secondly, there would likely be some mages there, if only to argue with those that didn't approve of their presence. On the way there she would pass the Tower's Respite, and she decided it might be prudent to enquire at the front desk, to see if Madeira was one of the prestigious students staying there. She thought back on her extravagant sense of style, and decided it was very likely.

She trailed along Lhavit's streets, heading for the bridge crossing over to Tenten Peak, but her route was slightly dog-legged so as to encompass her trip to the Tower's Respite. She kept to the shadows to avoid the worst of the overbearing sunshine, but the stifling heat had barely faded from the day previously, so even the walls of the buildings still radiated heat.

Eventually she reached the Tower's Respite. It was a beautiful building, she decided, as she looked up at its elegant facade. The plants, whose leaves had hardly changed to autumn's auburns, trailed up the walls and bedecked the building with neat, frothy bouquets. It was also a terribly prestigious type of building. Ennisa refused to be intimidated by the muted display of wealth, and strode up to the entrance-way, presuming that was where the front desk could be found.

Inside, her drab dress-sense looked horribly out of place - not that she really noticed. Instead, her attention was drawn to the very place she was looking for, the front desk, and the vibrantly fluffy-haired woman seated there. A couple of students passed and barely cast her a second glance as she approached the desk. She wore a cheerful if slightly empty smile plastered across her face to mask the general sense of disjointed annoyance she was currently feeling. With a chipper voice, she addressed the woman seated at the desk. "Hello, my name's Sky. I'm looking for Madeira, the Spiritist? Is she here at all?"

WC : 793

[Ennisa]

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The poofy-haired woman considered her for a moment, looked down at the various shuffled pages in front of her, and then looked up again as a thoughtful expression flitted across her face. "Madeira. Yes, Madeira. That name sounds familiar. Ah yes!" She remembered. Her exuberance faded somewhat as she continued. "I do know of Madeira, however she isn't here. She lives in her own abode. Why do you want to know?"

The question threw her; she didn't have a cover story made up. She wrinkled her nose, and opted for at least a semi-truth. "I met her the other day. She told me to find her, but I am not familiar with the comings and goings of Tower mages." Her answer fell short. The clerk pursed her lips, but didn't probe further. "If it's desperate, I'd advise speaking to someone at the Dusk Tower. I believe she teaches there. Otherwise, please try not to disturb the students staying here, if you'd be so kind?" The woman smiled politely, but Ennisa knew she wasn't welcome any more. She thanked the clerk, and left the building.

Emma bobbed along behind her, occasionally fading in and out as she rested in the only way that a ghost could. Meanwhile, Ennisa was already starting to flag. The heat was seeping into her already tired bones, and as a result, her pace was far less brisk than it was usually as she began walking over to the Basilika.

She crossed the skyglass bridge, barely bothered to peer over the edge to the mountainous scenery far below, and trudged her way to the Basilika. If she didn't find any answers there, then she would be forced to take up the clerk's advice and venture to the Dusk Tower. She shied away from this idea for the very same reasons why she hadn't enjoyed her brief trip to the Tower's Respite. The authority the mages had over people like her made her feel uncomfortable, unpleasant, and uneasy. Deep down, it was also a realisation that she was not as special or clever as she thought she was. When faced with the idea of a mage, someone who studied hard and could wield power Ennisa could literally only dream of... Well, this grated against Ennisa's notion of her own superiority.

She half sighed, half yawned, and walked up to the Basilika. Strangely, though she knew of its whereabouts, she'd never actually stepped foot inside. The exterior of the building was certainly fascinating, like a lot of Lhavit's architecture. The inside was an unknown. Ennisa drifted towards the sound of chatter, and took in the sights and sounds of the Basilika.

The building was basically a grand courtyard. The ceiling was made of skyglass, and the walls were adorned with art and columns that gave a sense of lofty grandeur. However, it was the people that caught Ennisa's attention the most. She had not delved far into the Basilika's embrace, when she was stopped in her tracks by a short man in black garb who was standing on a wooden box to make himself heard. His face was clouded and beet-red as he espoused in a cracked and lean kind of voice, "And she! Oh, she was a fine one. That esteemed lady I was telling you about earlier was exactly why this kind of thing should not be allowed, anywhere in Mizahar, let alone in Lhavit!"

A couple of people, whose clothing pegged them as Lhavitian as they come, stood listening to the man's spiel with barely disguised outrage. Ennisa, who was looking for an in, decided to listen to what was being said and see if she could figure out if they were mages, or if they knew a mage. As she approached, the taller of the Lhavitians, who was a stocky blonde man, frowned and interjected. "Look, Alphonse, you cannot ban magic. You cannot blanket ban anything. Magic gives one a freedom of expression and can also have many benefits, to disallow..-"

"You idiot! It causes more harm than good. Didn't you listen to what I was telling you?" The black-dressed man, whose name appeared to be Alphonse, shook his head as the stocky blonde began to splutter. He turned towards Ennisa. "Say, lady. You agree with me, correct? Magic causes more harm than good. It is a power only gods should wield, as it is a power that gods have created. It is folly for us mortal races to use this kind of power. It only leads to death. Wouldn't you agree?"

WC : 757

[Ennisa]

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Ennisa narrowed her eyes as she regarded Alphonse and his two opponents carefully. "Magic can be dangerous, of course. You only have to look at Lhavit over the years to hear of magic gone wrong, and the damage that has caused." Alphonse looked immensely pleased with himself, but Ennisa smiled and continued. ""However, I don't agree that it should be banned. I have many friends who use magic to the betterment of Lhavit." Lie. "And I don't think that Lhavit would be as spectacular as it is if magic wasn't a vital part of its make-up. In that sense, I would agree with you both." Here, she inclined her head towards the couple, who nodded in appreciation.

"Alphonse, everyone knows you've had a bad experience with magic, but you shouldn't let that cloud your judgement, and you should certainly not use your bad experience to cloud others' judgement." The other person in the couple, a blue-eyed woman, cast a concerned look at Alphonse. The man's expression was unreadable, though his cheeks had paled down from their ruddy flush. Ennisa took a tiny step closer to the couple who she'd sided with. At the end of their debate, they would be the first people to ask about Madeira.

"Harriet, Simon, lady." He cleared his throat. "Lhavit!" He bellowed. Several onlookers turned and stepped closer into their small circle. Alphonse spoke a little quieter now that he had their attention. "My argument against magic is this: if a power so strong can cause harm, and we do not truly, fully understand this power, is it sensible to utilise it? That would be akin to using the power of a storm to do our demolition work, whilst the rest of the storm destroys our home behind us. Yes, I have personally been harmed. Haven't we all, one way or another?"

Ennisa listened to his impassioned speech with interest. She looked around at the crowd as she tried to gauge their mood. She noticed several people, who had come closer at his address, had already peeled off dismissively. Alphonse, who didn't seem fazed, carried on. "We should all think about what damage our use of magic can cause..-"

He broke off when a bystander interjected angrily. "How dare you. It sounds like you are advocating the murders. You should feel ashamed. Mages work hard to protect and build this city..."
"Yeah!"
"... And it's this sometimes dangerous work that benefits us all. I, for one, stand in solidarity with mages, civilian and Tower alike."

Ennisa secretly rolled her eyes at the magical boot-licker, who was receiving warm smiles and pats on the back. She gazed up at Alphonse, who had finally been shaken by the mention of the mage-murders, and wondered whether the debate would finish soon. "I... I don't condone death, at all. The murderer ought to face justice. But... but that shouldn't stop us all considering the danger of magic!" Alphonse's face had regained its beetroot hue as he shouted his response. Ennisa thought it was probably self-preservation gone wrong that lead to his poorly judged shouting. Several bystanders promptly chirped up to pitch into the debate, but Ennisa had grown tired of the back-and-forth.

She drifted closer to the back of the gathering crowd, and approached an elderly woman who was listening to Alphonse's babble with dismay. Ennisa softly touched the woman's arm, and she looked around to see who it was in surprise. "He's a bit deluded, I think." Ennisa waved her hand at the frothing man on his makeshift podium. The old woman agreed, but her eyes were still half-lingering on the man, rather than Ennisa. She cleared her throat a little, and put on her best smile. Gods, I'm tired. "It's mages who are the backbone of this city. Like Madeira. The Spiritist. Do you know of her?"

The woman turned to look at her with a puzzled expression. Ennisa studied her wrinkled face. Suddenly, it appeared as if she had a lightbulb moment, and she exclaimed in a surprisingly youthful, melodious voice, "My cousin said something about a mage moving in next door to them! I think her name was Madeira? Or was it Macy?"

WC : 697

[Ennisa]

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"I'm looking to find Madeira, actually." She carefully left out the reason why, of course. "Whereabouts does your cousin live?" The old woman replied, "Over on Sartu Peak. She can see the bridge from her house, which is only a chime or so from the Starglow Spa. I think she said Madeira, or Macy, or was it Masie? Anyway, she said a mage had moved in next to her. My cousin looks just like me; except her dress sense is far better than mine. Her name's Thea. The house has a turquoise front door. Ask around, Thea'd love to chat to you. She's a mage too!"

The old woman, now that she'd been prompted, was surprisingly chatty. Ennisa smiled good-naturedly, but thanked the woman and left as soon as she could. The information she had gleaned was helpful. Surprisingly helpful. Ennisa left the Basilika and oriented herself in the right direction to go to Sartu Peak. She was quite accustomed to Sartu, as this was her workplace. She was almost tempted to pop into the Spa that the old woman had mentioned as well, but she would undoubtedly fall asleep in the warm water, and Emma would ruin her and everyone else's day with her gods-awful screaming.

Instead, she plonked one foot in front of the other, and wended her way to the Peak. By now, her general exhaustion was beginning to show on her face in the form of some nice, dark bags under her eyes. Ennisa was also wiping her face with her hands more often than normal, just to try to shake some semblance of vigour into herself. It wasn't really working. As she walked, the fierce sun beat down, which had the singular benefit of causing Emma to fade into the backdrop.

Occasionally as she walked, the little girl would seem to fade out of existence, but she popped back to check on Ennisa as she searched for the house the old lady from the Basilika had mentioned. Eventually, after traipsing down every little alley she never knew existed, she finally spotted a house which seemed to match the description. She looked at the door, and mentally calculated how far from the entrance to the Spa was. Seems to fit.

Ennisa looked around for Emma, but the little ghost girl was faint and stood a little distance away. She sighed a long, slow sigh and approached the door.

Knock, knock.

She stepped back a fragment and waited for an answer. Faintly she heard a cheery, "Coming!" issuing from within, and the thud-thud-thud of someone rushing along a corridor. The door was pulled open with gusto, and a brightly-dressed older woman with her hair piled into extravagant knots looked out at the shabby woman standing on her step.

"How can I help you?" Ennisa smiled, though the movement was definitely forced. "Hello, my name is Star. I met your cousin in the Basilika earlier today. I'm looking for a woman named Madeira, a Spiritist. She thought Madeira had moved in near to you. Do you know where I could find her?"

Thea looked bemused, and she shook her head. Ennisa's heart sank. Petch. "That would be cousin Winnie. I'm afraid she was mistaken! My neighbour's name is Amira, and she isn't a Spiritist. If you're looking for help with a ghost problem, I would go to the Den of the Lost. The man there might be the best bet. If you're looking for this Madeira specifically, then I'm afraid I cannot help."

Ennisa could have groaned. She didn't give a petch about this man from the Den of the Lost, whoever he was. All she cared about was finding Madeira and..- Suddenly, she brightened. "Thanks for your time." She bade Thea farewell and took a few steps until she was around the corner. An idea had crept up on her, unannounced yet strangely exciting. If the man at the Den of the Lost was a Spiritist... Perhaps he could help her with Emma? Her eyes sparkled. Emma viewed her with furrowed eyebrows, but Ennisa ignored her as she began walking over to the Spiritist's abode. The end was in sight.

WC : 693

[Ennisa]

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The walk was not too far, but Ennisa wasn't familiar with the Den of the Lost. She stopped a couple of times to ask directions, and was helpfully guided from one footpath to another by the good citizens of Lhavit, who took one look at Emma and pointed her in the correct direction. Yet when she eventually reached the fabled Den of the Lost, the building was definitely not what she would have expected. This was probably because her view of all Spiritists was viewed through the lens of Madeira. The plain apartment building she saw was nondescript. The only defining feature, and it was what the Sartu locals had advised her to look out for, was the tattoo-esque pattern carved painstakingly into the door.

Ennisa approached the building and gently ran a finger along the curves of the carving. She was about to walk inside, when she suddenly noticed Emma had appeared beside her. To her surprise, the little girl had a look of concerned terror on her face. "Miss Sky? I don't want to play the game in there." She jutted her lip as she looked at the unassuming facade.

Ennisa was surprised for two reasons. First, she hadn't realised the little girl didn't know that the game wasn't exactly a game so much as a punishment for her. Second, the reaction was stronger than she would have expected. She mused to herself. Does Emma, and I suppose Madeira, know this man? It was a curious tidbit of information. She squirrelled it away for later. "You don't have to go in, Emma, but I am."

"We can keep playing when you get back out?" She still looked worried. Ennisa almost felt sorry for her. "We don't have to. You can go back to Madeira if you want?" Pleasepleaseplea..- "I'll wait here for you." She beamed in a pale kind of way. Ennisa only just refrained from rolling her eyes. That seemed to be a habit at the moment. "Lucky, lucky me." The sarcasm rolled off Emma like rain off a duck's back, and she settled into rolling a pine cone around that she'd found on the street, completely oblivious to the world around her. Ennisa pulled open the door, and stepped within the Den of the Lost.

She was greeted with a pig sty of a room. Ennisa thought her untidiness was bad; it was nothing compared to the owner of the Den of the Lost. She thought she could spot a figure at the back of the room, but it was so dark and so dusty and so cluttered that she didn't dare stride over. Instead, she began squinting as she picked over debris lying across the floor. Scuffed leather-bound journals and grimy beakers clunked softly as she tip-toed her way through the gloom, making her way to the desk.

"Hello, is there anyone there?" She called out into the room. From the desk, a deep male voice answered, with just a touch of detached amusement. "Who's asking?" She peered closer, a frown etched across her face. The voice was accented unusually. The voice certainly didn't belong to a Lhavit native, she decided. "My name is Miss Sky. I'm looking for a Spiritist that you may know."

She got closer to the desk. Now that she could see a little better, she scanned her eyes over the Spiritist of the Den of the Lost. He was an imposing fellow, somewhat tanned, with piercing dark eyes. He wore a loose shirt over his patterned skin, but Ennisa's eyes sought the gaps in the fabric where the intricate tattoos peered through, already fascinated with the man.

"Are you going to stop lusting, or is there anything I can help you with?" Ennisa's eyebrows shot up and she blushed. Yet, once again, there was that tiny smidgen of amusement. Or at least, that's what she thought. She looked up into his eyes and held his gaze for a few moments. She meant to show him she was at his level, but the man had an unwavering, intimidating look to him that Ennisa felt uncomfortable under. She looked away first, and tried to quell the rising flush to her pale cheeks. "What is your name?"

"My name is Rostam, Spiritist of Lhavit." Ennisa bit her lip. How to approach the situation? Emma was standing outside and was too scared to enter. Rostam must know who Madeira was, but did he like the woman, were they just acquaintances, or did they hate each other? There was no way to know for certain. Ennisa decided to go with the diplomatic route. "I'm trying to find a woman Spiritist called Madeira. I met her the other day, and I wanted to ask her some trivial questions. Do you know where I could find her?"

WC : 800

[Ennisa]

"speech"
"others"

"I know a lot about Madeira Craven." More than you would expect, he seemed to imply. Ennisa stopped nosing at the man's untidy room and brought her attention back to his face in an attempt to read his expression. A certain tone had entered his voice. He seemed... angry? That wasn't quite it. Annoyed? Ennisa couldn't figure him out. She scrunched her nose as the peculiar scents of the room assaulted her olfactory senses. It was a question of how much information she was willing to share with Rostam. She watched him watching her, and wondered.

"I know she's not worth the effort. What is the nature of your visit today? Explain that to me, then I will go from there." Aha! He didn't like her. That must be it. Perhaps she was challenging his tenure on Lhavit. Most people seemed to know that Rostam's Lair was here on Sartu. Questions of Madeira hadn't led her so far, though she was probably asking the wrong people in the wrong places. Madeira the Spiritist seemed wealthy, slightly haughty, and authoritative. Perhaps she's brushed this Rostam the wrong way. In which case, that suited Ennisa just fine.

"I had a... misunderstanding with the woman at the Scholar's Demise the other day. She burdened me with her ghost Emma. I haven't had much sleep as a result. She told me to find her. I have been trying to find her most of the day, without much luck. Some questioning lead me to you. As you are a Spiritist, I thought perhaps you might know where I could find her."

There. That was the truth. She didn't see much point in lying to the man. He looked her up and down carefully, dark eyes dancing with shadows. Ennisa endured the scrutiny as best she could. Eventually, the man let out a soft laugh. "And what do you intend to do when you do eventually find her?"

"I... I haven't thought about that yet. All I know is that I need to be rid of Emma, sooner rather than later. She told me that I needed to find her to get that done." Again, the man paused, with his head tilted as he tapped a meandering pattern with his fingers across the stained desk. "Do you know how to help? Get rid of Emma, that is?" This time, the man laughed outright.

"Of course I do. Easing the passing of the dead is what I do. Where is she?" The gentle mirth faded from his voice. Ennisa gestured with a toss of her head to the door. "She's right out there." Rostam grinned with sinister delight. It was almost too good to be true, that another of Madeira's trusted servants was outside, just waiting to be dusted.

However, something made him hesitate. Ennisa narrowed her eyes. Finally, after an internal tug of war, he spoke. "The opportunity is too good to miss, but I'll miss it nonetheless. Madeira Craven is a cocky good-for-nothing, with skeletons in her closet. If you had a disagreement, then I'll do what I can to help you out. What do you need to know?"

He sighed a brief sigh, as he let the opportunity to dust another of Madeira's pets go. Ennisa, on the other hand, was almost gob-smacked at his response. She blinked a couple of times, and shifted on her feet as she wondered what to ask. "First, do you know where her house is?"

"She lives over on Zintia Peak, in a place delightfully called Infinity Manor. If you go inside, watch out, because the house is... How could I phrase it. Alive. Are you a mage, Miss Sky?" She shook her head. "Then yes, the house is alive, and linked to Madeira in strange ways."

"How do you mean, alive? It's a building. It can't be alive, can it?" Rostam shrugged. His deep voice twinged with his soft accent when he replied. "The house talks to her. It is almost like a person. Think of it like that." Ennisa tried to think of what else to ask, but her brain was foggy. Sleep was getting to her, especially in the dark room, and it was difficult to concentrate. The concept Rostam had thrown her way was a difficult one to grasp for a non-mage like herself, but she marvelled at the general idea of a living house.

"What else should I know? Or, what are you willing to tell me? Madeira, she... She told me to come back with a better story. I was perhaps not completely truthful with her to start with. Unfortunately, she saw through my ploy like glass." She squinted at the embarrassing memory, and at the re-telling. Thankfully, Rostam didn't laugh at her misfortune. Instead, he looked thoughtful.

WC : 796

[Ennisa]

"speech"
"others"

"With a woman like Madeira, she doesn't play by the rules that you or I might use. She's a stranger to Lhavit. Unfortunately, she is also sharp as diamond. Clever, too. Yet, nevertheless, she had some weaknesses. Her beloved wreck of a Kelvic, Allister for example. Her use of malediction." Ennisa frowned at the mention of this unknown word. Rostam elaborated. "It's a magic that uses blood, bone and body parts to make items of magical power. It is dangerous, especially in the wrong hands." She shuddered a little. Ennisa had automatically assumed the blue-clad woman was a woman of good moral standing. Yes, she was a Spiritist, but as far as she knew those of that background worked to rid the city of troublesome spirits. To hear that behind the prim, polished facade lay that kind of dangerous magic was disturbing.

Ennisa drummed her fingers on the desk absently. "What you're saying is I should figure out some way to use her weaknesses to get her to release me from the attention of Emma." The man smiled with a wicked curve of a grin. "Oh, yes. Assuredly. There aren't many that know of her dabbling in that dangerous craft. And Allister, he is a loose cannon. All I ask is that when you confront her, don't mention my name. She believes she guards her secrets closely. It would be excellent to disrupt that notion."

Rostam rolled his shoulders with an audible click. Perhaps he would wait to destroy Emma when he could watch Madeira's face when he did it. Now that would be satisfying. He regarded Ennisa, who was thinking with a look of concentration on her face. The man appeared to speak true, but there was an undercurrent of badly hidden malice in his low voice. She was grateful for what she had learned, but still, she realised there was some other story going on here that she was barely scratching the surface of. She felt a certain unease at becoming the pawn of two powerful people's games.

Ennisa nodded her thanks. "You've given me a lot to think about, Rostam, and I'm very grateful for everything you have told me today."
"It was my pleasure." With more enthusiasm than was necessary, he partially leaned over the desk and patted her on the shoulder with two firm claps of his tattooed hand. The gesture was friendly, but quite out of place considering they barely knew each other. She smiled and began to turn away to walk out of the room, thinking what a strange man he was. She bade him farewell. "Thank you once again, Rostam." She rubbed her eyes and wound her way out of the building, out into Lhavit.

When she opened the door, the first thing she noticed was Emma, who was eyeing the door with a healthy level of consternation. Relief flooded her face when she was it was only Ennisa, and she drifted closer to follow her. "Where are we going now, Miss Sky?" Ennisa rolled her eyes, but it was hard to get angry at the little girl and her trusting ways.

"I have to think a little. I'm going to walk to your master's house, then we'll see." Emma wrinkled her nose. "I'm not going to get very much soulmist for me and Raj." She pouted a little, then abruptly seemed to realise she was being more chatty than she had been all day, and stood straighter with a solemn expression. Back on duty. Ennisa's smile was tiny but genuine nonetheless. "You do know I'm not going to fall asleep whilst I'm standing up, right?" Emma looked confused, and shook her head.

"Never mind." Ennisa began walking. She had some directions from Rostam now. Madeira lived on Zintia Peak. They were currently on Sartu, so there was a fair bit of walking to do. She slapped her cheek to wake herself up, and dragged herself into motion. As she navigated Lhavit's streets, she began formulating how to approach the woman.

If she was honest with herself, she felt a little out of her depth. Though she now knew a little more about the strange Spiritist, the fearsome tone in her voice from when they last met still lingered in her mind. She was equipped only with her wit and her mind, whereas Madeira had in her employ ghosts and malediction. She could, technically, do just about anything to her and probably get away with it, if she wanted to.

Somehow, she suspected the woman was not the type of person to cause harm without a reason. This curse, the haunting of Emma, was relatively mild when contrasted with the other horror stories Ennisa was imagining about ghosts and evil fetishes. If Madeira had wanted to, she could have caused her actual harm. Yet she hadn't. That gave her some hope. She had already tried the sympathy card, but in a blunt, ineffective way. Perhaps there was some way to twist Madeira to be truly sympathetic to her.

WC : 836