Spring 20th, 520AV
"Are you sure this is safe?"
"That's right boy, say the words. Believe it and it will become real." The ghost nodded sagely.
"That- that's not what I-"
"Shush."
The young boy fidgeted nervously with a cup of murky fountain water. The scuffed toe of his slipper traced anxious circles in the weeds that grew untamed around the idyllic stone fountain he was perched on. The child paused briefly to glance at the crowds nearest the cities carefully curated little haven of greenery. The red haired blue eyed Inerta child was about eight or nine winters old. Old enough to know better, but young enough to be cowed by the perceived authority of random adults.
The Lhavit streets seemed to shine that night. A bright spring moon peaked over the horizon, reflecting off the prisms of skyglass that adorned the domes surrounding the Surya market. The bustling hub was the central point of Lavit, situated in the centre of the largest peak with access to the port, the square was always packed, even in the dark hours after midnight rest. Confused foreigners bumbled about in the pre-dawn darkness, tired and bleary eyed, holding lanterns over the cobblestones as if foraging through the wilderness. And Jomi watched every single one with an uncomfortable intensity.
The fully materialized ghost brooded next to the fountain the boy inhabited, careful to keep himself out of arms reach of the child. He was unmistakable from a real flesh and blood person. From the flawless creases and colours in his clothes to the way the glow of the lanterns reflected on the thin layer of perspiration on his forehead. Jomi kept his right palm pressed tight to his thigh to conceal the glow of the Dira stone embedded in his palm. The drop of the goddesses blood embedded in his hand allowed the power of the deity to supplement his own creating an imitation that was terrifying in its accuracy.
As long as he wasn't touched.
The illusion would fall apart if if someone were to make direct contact. The ghost's pseudo body, as well defined as it was, had volume but no mass. If touched it would be obvious that the ghosts deathly cold body was lighter than a feather and just as fragile.
"Sir?" The boy began nervously.
"-That one." Jomi interrupted harshly, distracting the boy from his query. Inclining his head at a young human woman dressed in fine albeit plain robes. Her hair pulled back in a harried bun as she sped through the square with a basket hung at her hip filled with the first of the spring fruits.
Jomi wasn't interested in the woman's rings or armband, the only objects worth any kina on her person, Instead the ghost eyes were following the pin in her hair. A simple rose coloured agate stone carved into a flower sat atop a long metal pin stuck to the top of her twisted rope of hair.
The ghost had only seemed to notice these things recently. The small, insignificant, personal items that others carried with them. There were more beautiful and infinity more expensive gems than the agate back at the manor, locked away in Madeira's bureau. But the value didn't matter to him. He just desperately wanted to have things.
Other people have things. He was a person. He was a part of the world. He deserved to have things too.
The obsessive thought ate away at the ghost. A wandering soul without roots, a home or even a body desperately wanted something to call his own.
And that hairpin was going to be his.
"Go." Jomi hissed at the child, baring his pointed canines for incentive as the boy scrambled off his seat and ran out into the market.
Jomi watched the boy weave in, out and around the legs of the early morning shoppers. Deftly dogging the hands and shouts of frustrated adults in the way only a child can. Before running directly in front of the harried woman and unceremoniously falling on his face.
Jomi smiled proudly to himself, soundlessly congratulating the boy on being a quick learner and convincing actor as he hurried through the crowd after the child. The ghost caught up quickly, his weightless body was faster than that of a human. No weight meant no momentum, allowing the ghost to change direction around objects in an instant and harmlessly pass over the slick surfaces and uneven ground that would trip a human.
The cup of water in the child's possession was thrown up over his head during the fall. The woman he'd landed in front of squealed in fright as she was dowsed with the slick, tepid water. Just in time for the ghost to arrive at her shoulder, the corners of his lips drawn down in mock anger.
"What the Hai are you doing, boy! You alright, Miss?"
"Yes, yes I'm fine its just- oh you poor child lets get you sorted out, there's a good lad."
The boy sat up and squeaked out a stifled sob, his lips pursed in a thin line to hold in the sound as the corner of his eyes grew an increasing angry shade of red.
The ghost couldn't help the upward arch of surprise on his brows. Oh, that wasn't an act.
The woman slipped easily into the mannerisms reserved to calming animals and small children. She spoke in a hushed, high voice as she lowered herself to her knees, setting her basket down to help the boy to his feet.
"I'm sorry about all this," the ghost began as he leaned down to the boy with her, his right arm reaching out to hover across the back of her shoulders."My nephew is a klutz, I keep telling him not to run on the cobblestones."
Jomi's tone softened to match the woman's more understanding than usual reaction to being dowsed. His hand tilted up towards her hair and closed in around the head of the pin. "I'll take care of him, I'm sorry for having troubled you."
"That's right boy, say the words. Believe it and it will become real." The ghost nodded sagely.
"That- that's not what I-"
"Shush."
The young boy fidgeted nervously with a cup of murky fountain water. The scuffed toe of his slipper traced anxious circles in the weeds that grew untamed around the idyllic stone fountain he was perched on. The child paused briefly to glance at the crowds nearest the cities carefully curated little haven of greenery. The red haired blue eyed Inerta child was about eight or nine winters old. Old enough to know better, but young enough to be cowed by the perceived authority of random adults.
The Lhavit streets seemed to shine that night. A bright spring moon peaked over the horizon, reflecting off the prisms of skyglass that adorned the domes surrounding the Surya market. The bustling hub was the central point of Lavit, situated in the centre of the largest peak with access to the port, the square was always packed, even in the dark hours after midnight rest. Confused foreigners bumbled about in the pre-dawn darkness, tired and bleary eyed, holding lanterns over the cobblestones as if foraging through the wilderness. And Jomi watched every single one with an uncomfortable intensity.
The fully materialized ghost brooded next to the fountain the boy inhabited, careful to keep himself out of arms reach of the child. He was unmistakable from a real flesh and blood person. From the flawless creases and colours in his clothes to the way the glow of the lanterns reflected on the thin layer of perspiration on his forehead. Jomi kept his right palm pressed tight to his thigh to conceal the glow of the Dira stone embedded in his palm. The drop of the goddesses blood embedded in his hand allowed the power of the deity to supplement his own creating an imitation that was terrifying in its accuracy.
As long as he wasn't touched.
The illusion would fall apart if if someone were to make direct contact. The ghost's pseudo body, as well defined as it was, had volume but no mass. If touched it would be obvious that the ghosts deathly cold body was lighter than a feather and just as fragile.
"Sir?" The boy began nervously.
"-That one." Jomi interrupted harshly, distracting the boy from his query. Inclining his head at a young human woman dressed in fine albeit plain robes. Her hair pulled back in a harried bun as she sped through the square with a basket hung at her hip filled with the first of the spring fruits.
Jomi wasn't interested in the woman's rings or armband, the only objects worth any kina on her person, Instead the ghost eyes were following the pin in her hair. A simple rose coloured agate stone carved into a flower sat atop a long metal pin stuck to the top of her twisted rope of hair.
The ghost had only seemed to notice these things recently. The small, insignificant, personal items that others carried with them. There were more beautiful and infinity more expensive gems than the agate back at the manor, locked away in Madeira's bureau. But the value didn't matter to him. He just desperately wanted to have things.
Other people have things. He was a person. He was a part of the world. He deserved to have things too.
The obsessive thought ate away at the ghost. A wandering soul without roots, a home or even a body desperately wanted something to call his own.
And that hairpin was going to be his.
"Go." Jomi hissed at the child, baring his pointed canines for incentive as the boy scrambled off his seat and ran out into the market.
Jomi watched the boy weave in, out and around the legs of the early morning shoppers. Deftly dogging the hands and shouts of frustrated adults in the way only a child can. Before running directly in front of the harried woman and unceremoniously falling on his face.
Jomi smiled proudly to himself, soundlessly congratulating the boy on being a quick learner and convincing actor as he hurried through the crowd after the child. The ghost caught up quickly, his weightless body was faster than that of a human. No weight meant no momentum, allowing the ghost to change direction around objects in an instant and harmlessly pass over the slick surfaces and uneven ground that would trip a human.
The cup of water in the child's possession was thrown up over his head during the fall. The woman he'd landed in front of squealed in fright as she was dowsed with the slick, tepid water. Just in time for the ghost to arrive at her shoulder, the corners of his lips drawn down in mock anger.
"What the Hai are you doing, boy! You alright, Miss?"
"Yes, yes I'm fine its just- oh you poor child lets get you sorted out, there's a good lad."
The boy sat up and squeaked out a stifled sob, his lips pursed in a thin line to hold in the sound as the corner of his eyes grew an increasing angry shade of red.
The ghost couldn't help the upward arch of surprise on his brows. Oh, that wasn't an act.
The woman slipped easily into the mannerisms reserved to calming animals and small children. She spoke in a hushed, high voice as she lowered herself to her knees, setting her basket down to help the boy to his feet.
"I'm sorry about all this," the ghost began as he leaned down to the boy with her, his right arm reaching out to hover across the back of her shoulders."My nephew is a klutz, I keep telling him not to run on the cobblestones."
Jomi's tone softened to match the woman's more understanding than usual reaction to being dowsed. His hand tilted up towards her hair and closed in around the head of the pin. "I'll take care of him, I'm sorry for having troubled you."
