Closed [Infinity Manor]A Ghost A Gaze[Autumn]

[Moritz Craven]

5 Fall 520

As another day came into being, Moritz slowly began to awaken in his bed. There were many things humans liked which Moritz did not understand, shoes, clothing, meat... But beds, beds where one thing he liked.

It took a few more moments before he realized he was awake. But he resolutely decided to not get up. He did not have anything he needed to do that day for quite awhile, his bladder was not urging him outward, and so he did not feel like getting up.

Suddenly he noticed a shifting, and found his bed was at an angle. Sliding along the bed towards the floor Moritz began to scrabble at his bedding, only to fall of the edge with his sheet wrapped around him. At the last moment he tried to recall his training with Kyra, focusing on rolling to lessen the impact and not landing on his face.

He managed to get his feet under him with his knees bent, but unfortunately he had landed atop his sheet and rather than subtly shifting and rolling as he had planned he slipped and fell to land on his rear.

By then Moritz was fully awake, and recalled a few days prior when he had asked the house to help with his training... By surprising him and getting him to use what he had learned. Apparently, or so Moritz supposed, he house had only pretended to ignore that to lull him into a sense of complacency so it could later do just such a thing as this.

Or maybe, Moritz considered, it had decided it wanted him out of bed and had used his prior words as a means to do so while technically fulfilling a request.

Looking under the bed he expected to see the floor caved, but what he found was... Not quite that. Instead it seemed the two posts on one side of the bed had fallen into some recess in the floor, which had made the bed at an angle and left him to fall out. Which made sense, it was easier to shift a tiny bit than to move an entire floor. Who knew, perhaps it had been planning this slowly for days and had just then made the final small motion of structure to cause it to occur.

"House, when I asked you to do that, I did not mean... Could you at least wait till I'm out of bed!"

With a huff of annoyance, somewhat lessened -perhaps as the house intended- by the fact it was following his poorly worded request, Moritz began to get dressed. He would have preferred not to, but he knew how obsessed his mother was with him wearing clothes and the argument that would follow if he tried to go about without them. It was not worth it he felt to argue, even if her request did not make any logical sense. Not as it would if he was going to train, or to work, or to go out in the wilds, something where clothing was important for protection and temperature regulation.

No shoes of course, preferring to walk about bare footed- he did have to draw the line somewhere- but wearing a top and bottom and things like that.

Once he was so dressed Moritz made his way downstairs, speeding along at high speed as normal from one rung of the stairs to the next. Perhaps he could find something to munch on in the kitchen...

WC: 582

[Autumn Rose]

Autumn had grown lonely. Usually, she had Gweneveh to keep her company, but her friend and roommate had been keeping others company, others being the clients of the Red Lantern. Loneliness had pervaded the soul of Lhavit lately. Autumn wasn’t the only one. Gweneveh had a knack for making people feel unlonely, and she had been nonstop busy. When she wasn’t with lovers, she was sleeping. There was not enough time for the living, so Gweneveh definitely didn’t have the time for Autumn.

It was rare that Gweneveh would take multiple lovers at once as she ployed her craft best when she only had to lavish a single person with her attentions, but this was a special circumstance. In the general sense of loneliness that lay on the city, more of Gweneveh’s clients sought her out, even if they had spouses or lovers at home. Two such people were husband and wife, and both had come to Gweneveh at the same time on the same day, seeking a private triste. Instead, they had run into each other, and a fight had threatened to ensue. It didn’t though, because Gweneveh was there.

Gweneveh didn’t believe in love. She knew it wasn’t real, but she knew how to convince others to believe it was. Most days, she used this art to make a profit, but today, she had used it to repair whatever had been broken between the two. Whatever faith had been lost between the two was regained, and Gweneveh had still managed to benefit from it. This though had meant that Autumn was still alone, and so she had made her way to the Infinity Manor.

There was someone she knew there or at least she used to know. Maro lived there now under Madeira’s protection, but he was not the Maro Autumn remembered. He was physically the same, but he remembered nothing of the life he had once lived, nothing of Autumn. He was the empty husk of Maro with no memories and no soul. He had given no indication of a recollection of the life before.

But hope was what it was. Cruel and stubborn.

It told Autumn that he was there, still present, just buried beneath layers of life and death and the forgetfulness of whatever lay between. Somehow, it promised with lies so beautiful they had to be true, he could be reached. Autumn would just have to dig through mysteries she’d never heard of before to fund him, and Autumn, fool that she was, was going to try.

When she arrived at Maro’s new home, House barely even registered she was there. Autumn could tell Madeira’s sentient manor was focused on something else, waiting for it with eager anticipation. Being ignored by House was one thing Autumn didn’t mind, not in this situation. She and House hadn’t started out on the best foot, and life’s circumstances had not served to smooth over their differences. If anything, it seemed to keep setting the two of them more at odds. Recent times had been quiet, but neither liked the other. Not wanting to disturb House and earn its ire, she didn’t bother asking where Maro was. House wasn’t enormous, and it wouldn’t take Autumn long to find her friend.

She was in the main room which was thankfully empty. Emma was often about, and right now, hers was not the company Autumn wanted. Silent as the grave, she waited and listened and smiled at the phrase as it passed through her mind. For those who understood, truly comprehended, they knew graves were hardly ever silent. They cried out for more time which was never given, lamented deeds left undone. Few things spoke louder than a life wasted and unspent time. One just had to know the language to understand.

Her disembodied ears heard what she was searching for. Noise came from the kitchen, and she went to investigate. Maro, still younger than when she had been separated from him in his previous life, was there, diligently doing his duty to earn his keep at the Infinity Manor. The dishes that were piled up waiting to be dried said he’d already been at this some time. He was machine-like in his dedication to his chores. He didn’t need as much sleep as most did, and while he was awake, he always stayed steadily busy.

One thing Maro had always enjoyed in his previous life was Autumn’s materialization from nothing. He had called it her dawning and had thought the sun’s arrival each day paled in comparison. It was a slow manifestation, details slowly arriving, a shimmer of air falling away into her figure, her blues eyes always emphasized.

Hope told her to start with his, that somehow someway this would reach past the things that clouded his memory. Autumn dawned into existence, partly posed sitting within the stack of dishes. Maro barely batted an eye, but he did acknowledge her existence by pausing in the middle of washing one dish to look and make sure she hadn’t disturbed any of the clean dishes.

She smiled at him. “Good morning, Maro.”

He went back to the dish he had been washing. “Hello, Autumn.”

“Did you sleep well?”

He shrugged. “About the same as always.” There was a pause, then, “Did y-”

Maro stopped when he realized who he was talking to and considered what he had been about to ask her in return. His head didn’t tilt to the side like it used to. “Do ghost actually sleep?”

Autumn froze for just a moment as hope toyed with her. Maro had asked the same thing once before, back in his previous life, but it wasn’t an unreasonable question for anyone to ask. She smothered the growing flame of hope with reason and shook her head.

“No. We don’t. Instead, we dream. We dream of what will come to be when those we love awaken.”

The two went silent for several chimes, but Autumn could feel House’s anticipation build until finally it lunged at whatever it was waiting for. A small gust of pity went out from her to whoever House was addressing with its mischief, but she went back to watching Maro work. Some parts of him, the way he moved and the way he breathed, were exactly the way they had been before. So many things, though, were changed, were new.

She was so lost in her watching that she didn’t hear the other person approach. He was a young boy, similar in age to Maro, at least in appearance, but his face was new to her.

Autumn smiled and said as much. “Your face is one I don’t recognize. Are you another of Luthisa’s children?” The ghost couldn’t imagine Madeira wasting her money on another empty child. “I’m Autumn.”

WC=1,132

[Moritz Craven]

As usual for Moritz, he padded along through the house at a quick speed. He did not outright run, but he was moving quickly for being indoors. This required great concentration as he descended the stairs.

One foot popped from the next, aiming for the edge of the step at an angle, and then popping his other leg forward to land on the other step. Somewhat akin perhaps to a Okomo ascending or descending a steep rocky slope, but also a unique thing Moritz did in his human form with his human feet. An Okomo might adjust their hooves to catch the right angle to grip, but when moving fast moving in turn and keeping in motion. Here Moritz did not gain any grip, but gained speed so long as he concentrated and had a smooth surface. With them being stairs in good repair, that was not really an issue.

No one had really told him to take the stairs that way, but once he was old enough to do so with his legs having grown to the needed length, it had just seemed... Logical. And as a backup he of course had his hand held at the ready to grab should he slip. Perhaps even it was this added confidence and support that the rail provided that allowed such passage.

Regardless Moritz quickly padded down the stairs, hitting the ground and pausing for a moment before turning and padding towards the kitchen.

He kept moving at this pace, breathing through his mouth and beginning to catch a bit of a hitch in said breathing even over- what he considered- a short distance. That is until he reached the doorway of the kitchen and found unfamiliar people in it. Rather than going inside right away Moritz took a moment to catch his breath and inspect them.

He was fairly certain they were no burglars or other people having broken in, after all the House would not have let them inside in that case... Which meant they were invited or had been told before they were allowed in.

Looking more closely Moritz realized one was doing dishes... Had his mother hired a servant or someone to clean about the house? He did not think he had seen him before, though he did seem young. He should have seen him then in one of his classes if he attended his school, but he did not think he had seen him there either... Quite odd.

Then there was the other person the boy was talking to, who was... Looking a bit closer, not all there. Was she standing, or sitting... Wait, that bit there.... He was not quite sure what to call it... A scent... Or a taste... Maybe a touch, on the air... Not quite a chill but... An oddness to it that was not quite right. Perhaps another ghost then, though not one he had met before but one in the house.... Perhaps coming by to ask for some food? His mother was not there just then so she could not feed her, and Moritz did not truth his own skills in such things. This one, if it was a ghost, was more skilled than many, and he was having trouble telling if she was a ghost or not by appearances alone. But there was that thing, on the air, which felt... Off...

After a moment the woman- possibly ghost- seemed to notice Moritz's arrival. She looked him over and gave a smile before questioning him. Luthisa? Who? And the woman- ghost maybe- was apparently according to her named Autumn.

It was then, rather randomly, that Moritz realized he had bought a dog a few days earlier and he knew not where it was. Which of course made him feel like a bad dog master. Looking about and not focusing overly much on keeping eye contact while speaking, Moritz responded in his usual odd fashion. Not in a rush, but in spurts, appearing to finish talking only to start again by making another complete thought, and then continuing again. But doing so with a short enough gap the other person would not have time to begin talking. But not rushing or blurting out his words.

"Your face does not look familiar either, but I live here. Do you? I cannot keep track of those who do... The House seems to have let you in either way, so I suppose your supposed to be here... Who is Luthisa? My mother is Madeira. I'm her child not this... Luthisa persons. Never heard of them. And who is he? I don't think I've met him before. Is he some kind of dish cleaner my mother hired? He seems to be cleaning dishes... Does he not go to school? He seems about my age, and people my age are supposed to go to the school. But I don't think I've seen him in any of my classes before... Oh, and have you seen a dog? Her name is Naymon, but she was not in my room when I woke up. The House must have let her out, but I'm not sure where she got off to... Oh, and are you a living person, or a ghost?"

Finally done with his series of questions and answers, Moritz met the woman's gaze for a moment to see if she was paying attention, and then returned to his searching about the room. He would still listen, but would begin moving as he did, checking various sacks and things in the kitchen for something to eat.

WC: 927

[Autumn Rose]

The flurry of words that spilled from the body almost had autumn scrambling to remember all the details. Almost. She had been a teacher on Black Rock and was accustomed to the oddities of children, each one presenting different mannerisms in the way they talked and the way they viewed the world. This child’s speech and thought patterns were tended to be the hardest to follow as one thought ran into the next, but Autumn had had her practice. She kept up. One piece in particular jumped out at her.

“My mother is Madeira.”

A name surfaced from a year ago when Madeira had helped Autumn save Candace. Moritz.

Waiting until he was finished, Autumn attempted to remember every question and respond appropriately. She began at the end, answering his final question by dropping some of the mist out of her materialization, her form becoming more transparent and her edges getting hazy. “I’m a ghost.”

He didn’t seem fussed or bothered by the fact, and Autumn attributed that to growing up with his mother and House. House had a way of filtering out the worst of ghosts. It had its inhabitants in mind, always caring for their safety above all else. If she was in, it meant she had been let in. He had said as much.

She paused and considered him for a moment, watching as he began to rummage through the kitchen. She let him wander. Children were both better and worse at paying attention than adults. They had a curiosity that drove them, and they wanted to know more. They often wanted to listen and learn but all in their own way. “Madeira’s son? That must make you Moritz. She’s mentioned you before.”

Drifting from the counter and leaving empty Maro to his work, Autumn searched a few bags, too, offering what little help a ghost could in this case. “No. I don’t live here. I just know your mother. I actually knew your mother back when she lived in Alvadas.” To say Autumn knew Madeira was a stretch. They had met once, only very briefly, but the events that had cascaded from that encounter had changed everything, everything for the ghost, at least. She looked down into the bag. “Potatoes?”

Her head flicked back to Maro as she moved to another burlap sack, tis one a little smaller. “This is Maro. I also knew him back in Alvadas, but he was… different back then.” Instincts told her to shelter children from the worst, so she stifled her emotions as best as she could. Despite that, some sorrow leaked through. “We used to be friends.” Best friends, if she was being honest. “But he’s forgotten who I am. Apples?”

There was a small bag up on a shelf out of the reach of most, and Autumn pressed her soulmist into its bottom, lifting it and setting it down on a table to undo its tie. “Luthisa is the person who allowed your mother to hire Maro.” She said hire, but she knew that wasn’t the case. He’d been bought . To Luthisa, he was goods to be bartered. “He’s a servant. Most servants don’t go to school. They’ve learned simpler tasks to make a living, and some of them are satisfied with that.”

Maro, the real Maro, would not have been, but this version of him seemed content with the monotony.

When the tie finally fell away, Autumn’s eyes brightened. “Ooh, cashews!” These nuts weren’t readily available around Lhavit. Madeira would have had to pay a hefty price to get ahold of these. “So you go to school. I used to be a teacher, you know. What are they trying to make you learn?”

Autumn waited for Moritz to find a food he wanted or to choose something she had discovered, listening if he cared to talk about the things his schooling was instructing him on.

“I don’t remember seeing a dog out on the lawn when I came in, but I also wasn’t paying attention. I can tell you I didn’t see any dog when I came in, and I certainly didn’t hear one. Maybe we can search House, and if we don’t find Naymon, we can try outside. The gate was still closed when I arrived. I don’t think she would have got out of the yard.”

WC=722

[Moritz Craven]

Moritz wasn't fazed at hearing the woman was indeed a ghost, something he felt he was slowly getting better at figuring out. Of course he tended to ask most people around their residence as so many did turn out to be one. His mother being a powerful Spiritist he supposed it was to be expected.

But still, he had looked at the situation, what he could see and tell, his feelings, and had looked at it logically to see she might be a ghost. Not a sure thing, but a possibility. And then had acted on that to confirm with her. A straightforward enough use of such linear logic and puzzling out of things.

As he shuffled about looking through things Moritz nodded, not bothering to turn and look when she spoke.

"Yep, I'm Moritz. Although seeing as she only has two kids, and the other is a girl, that isn't too hard to figure out if you've ever talked to her. Heck probably plenty of people who haven't talked to her know that. Did she say anything interesting about me, or just that she had a son."

Moritz pondered for a moment, wondering if she did say something about him what it would be. He did not expect it to be anything bad, but then it might not have been anything truthful either. Something nice or good or neutral was just as likely for her, he felt, as something untruthful.

"Well if she did say anything about me, I guess now is as good a time as any to find out what she made up. Assuming she said anything beyond my existing."

He was vaguely interested to hear this ghost knew his mother from Alvadas, as it was not a time his mother spoke of. And as it was from before he was born he had no observations to confirm anything she did say on that time. What little she did say.

"Oh? Was she any different back then, in Alvadas, or was she more or less the same as she is now? It was before I was born so I don't know much. Mostly when she brings the place up she's just talking about our family. Which we left for some reason. But which she still talks about at length like... I don't know, like some story she's memorized and is retelling."

Moritz turned at the word potato's, but was not quite in the mood for a raw potato... And he did not really know how to prepare them. He would need to learn more about such things, or he would end up eating a lot of raw foods.

Her words on the young boy peaked Moritz interest unlike much of the other things she had said. Not because it was inherently interesting but more like... It was missing something. But also... As she spoke, her words seemed a bit odd... She knew his mother from years ago in Alvadas... And this boy was not too old. So how old, or more importantly young, had he been when he knew him back in Alvadas? Friends with a child that young, or no even younger? Seemed a bit odd. Of course him being so young seemed to explain why he did not remember her, but stiil... The story was a bit odd to Moritz's mind. Something off about it. Some missing detail poking at his mind, a gap he noticed which did not add up. Like someone had written out some math and you could tell a number was missing from context but not what.

"He seems pretty young, how old was he when you were friends years ago in another city? And how did you end up being friends with a kid that young? Seems a bit... Odd.. And was it just so long ago, or when he was so young, that he doesn't remember you? How did you find him again then?"

At the mention of apples Moritz headed over to the sack, pulling one out and taking a bite. That one wasn't quite fresh or crisp, but it was passable as far as apples went. Something to munch on and fill his stomach. The gaping maw that needed to be filled. He was after all a growing boy, quite quickly at that. He needed nourishment.

As he chewed another bite Moritz watched as the ghost used her soulmist to pick up another. It was an interesting sight to say the least, looking like the bag just floated up and over by its own volition. But he could see the ghost concentrating on the bag, and it was clear she was the one moving it.

Her story explaining school, or the lack thereof for the boy, seemed a bit... Odd to Moritz. And then he put his finger on it and possibly the other little facts that had bothered him, they conflicted with other facts he had been told. When he spoke it was in the same unconcerned tone as before, more stating a fact or the height of the sun than anything important.

"Well that is odd. I thought everyone my age or so went, I mean it is free. Why wouldn't his parents or whoever are his..... Uh whats the word... Guardian. Right, why wouldn't they send him if its free. I mean I do stuff outside of school, surely he would be able to have free class and do his work as well. Seems a bit odd to me... Is this Luthisa person his guardian? Seems that's silly, to pass up something free that could improve him. I mean that's what learning is all about, improving yourself. Maybe he could do his job better, or a better one, if he learned more things. I mean you said he is satisfied, but he's just a kid. Does he get to pick that? I know if I told my mother I wanted to go off and wash dishes all day, and was happy with that, she wouldn't agree and would send me back to school. Seems that's one of the things parents would be good for, if a kid wanted to do or not do something stupid like quite school."

Taking another bite of the food Moritz turned about to stare at the ghost, peering with his square goat eyes. The ghost seemed excited by her next find, a cashew. Mortiz wasn't sure exactly what that was, and so headed over while eating his apple with another big bite now that he was not currently talking.

He eyed the things, small pale shapes in a small pile, trying to figure out what they were. Once he'd finished another mouthful of apple Moritz continued talking. First about the cashew things, and then in response to her newest question.

"Whats a cashew? Looks like a pile of little... Things... What are they used for? Or what do they taste like?"

"And those are two different things. At school I learn normal things. Reading. Writing. Math. Stuff like that. But I also go to Kyra's and learn how to fight. She's my combat instructor. I'm not very good yet though. Or maybe she's just really good. Or both maybe. What did you teach? When were you a teacher? Was that before you became a ghost, or after? Kyra teaches me to fight with my body and things, and also how to use a sword. Its this thing with a hook at the end. Although we just use wooden ones not real ones. Although I think she might let me try one of the blunt metal ones soon."

As the topic turned to Naymon Moritz looked about, wondering where the dog was.

"Well he was in my bed when I fell asleep, but he was gone when I woke up. I think the house let him out of the room while I was asleep. It dropped me out of the bed, so I guess it didn't want to drop the dog... Although that was kind of my fault, I asked it to help me with my training, I just didn't think it'd do that by waking me up to a falling bed. I'll need to be more specific next time I ask it to do something like that... It might be inside somewhere, I'm not sure. Maybe it went outside, or maybe its still in here somewhere. I haven't looked too much, I forgot about her till I said something earlier. So maybe she's down here asleep somewhere."

At the offering of help Moritz took another big bite of his apple and began heading out of the kitchen.

"Shwure. We wkin wook." Taking a large swallow of the chewed apples Moritz continued. "Lets try inside first, maybe she's asleep somewhere."

With that Moritz headed off, assumedly with the ghost in tow, trying to find his dog. If he did not find her right away he would pick from one room on the ground floor to another, looking about for the canine.

WC: 1,501

[Autumn Rose]

“Did she say anything interesting about me or just that she had a son?”

There was a pause there, and Autumn looked at the boy, really looked, and saw more there than she had before. Questions emerged, the most important of those being What would it be like to be Madeira Craven’s child? Autumn couldn’t imagine it. She and Madeira didn’t see eye to eye, and most parts of their personalities clashed. There was something in the way Moritz spoke that showed a logical delivery but in a way that was steadfast, stubborn. Madeira had her own stubborn streak, a tenacity that Autumn thought might put her at odds with her boy.

“Well, if she did say anything about me, I guess now is as good a time as any to find out what she made up. Assuming she said anything beyond my existing.”

There it was. A distance in the way he spoke about his mother. Not detachment. Something else. Autumn couldn’t be sure if it was just the very potent, logical side of the boy putting up defenses to protect his emotional side or whether this was the typical phase of a boy becoming a man during which he demanded he be able to face the world alone no matter how unprepared for it he was. Still, he wanted to know what his mother had said. Perhaps he wanted his mother’s admiration and approval, craved it.

Autumn reached back through the many memories to that time on the Catholicon steps. “It was a while ago. I can’t remember precisely what she said. Independent, intelligent, serious. That was how she described you. And trouble. She used that last word to describe both you and your sister. Pride and love were in her eyes when she spoke of you two. Pride I have seen in her before. Love, though, that was new to me. Part of me wasn’t sure she was capable. I have always known spiritist to be the very best of liars though. Was any of what she told me about you true?” She shrugged. “I suppose the best lies always have some root in truth.”

When Moritz talked about his mother, Autumn had to think back. Their interaction had been brief, and Autumn’s view of it all was clouded with a litter of biases. Stripping them all away, she remembered the woman standing in front of her and Maro, half naked, bleeding nails ripped away, all so she could lay some unknown spirit to rest.

“She was the same then. But different. I don’t know if that makes sense.” The ghost paused a moment, little whirls of soulmist drifting lazily around her. “She was young then, more driven but with less power. Maybe she’s not changed at all. Maybe she’s got what she wanted, and that’s why she seemed less driven.”

Autumn doubted that. Madeira Craven seemed to be the sort who would never be satisfied.

Moritz’ curiosity turned to Maro, and at the mentioned of her friend, Autumn’s mists roiled. Her voice was calm, but if Moritz knew anything about ghosts, he’d realize how agitated she was. “I really can’t explain it, Moritz. It will sound like a lie, but he was older back then, when I knew him in Black Rock and Alvadas. I raised him back when he was just a boy, but when he grew up, we became best of friends. But I lost him. He tried to help people he had no business helping. It got him killed. I know he was dead. But this last winter, he showed up like this, him but not him, as if everything that made him Maro to begin with was stripped away leaving just the body he used to walk in.” She looked to Moritz, saw the logical wheels in his mind spinning behind his eyes. “Like I said, it sounds like a lie. Even standing here saying it myself, the words sound like lies.”

Moritz’ logical brain couldn’t wrap around the idea that some children didn’t go to school, and Autumn could tell the truth would be the only way to explain this.

“Moritz, do you know what slavery is?” The wisps of soulmist that weren’t creating her materialized form were whipping around her and darting in aimless, erratic patterns. “Because that is what Maro is, a slave. He wasn’t hired. He was bought. Madeira did it to save him, to protect him, and for that, I am forever in her debt. Luthis is not his guardian. She never was. Her only purpose was to use him. She was the one who enslaved him. She’s the one who made him this way. I’m sure of it. I just have to find out how. And how to undo it. He doesn’t care, because took away the part of him that would let him care. But he’s here, and that means he’s safe, for now. That is something Luthisa will not be able to say for long.”

There was a pause, and her soul breathed, taking in a breath of nothing and holding it for several ticks before letting it out in a sigh that was not heard but felt and seen in the way the mists settled around her. She shook her head, and her hair fell in front of her face as she did. A ghostly hand reached up and brushed at the meaningless strands. She saw through them and, with a thought, could return them to their usual place. “Those are worries for another day though.”

She nodded and smiled at Moritz’ explanation of what he learned. “You’re absolutely right. School and learning are two very different things, just as school and teaching are two very different things. After I died, back on Black Rock, I instructed youngsters on how to read and write, but I hope what I taught them was more valuable than just that. I hope they learned a little about how to face life and the things it would throw at them, though at their age, I don’t think they realized it.”

Autumn was glad when Moritz agreed to go looking for Naymon. It gave her a good excuse to leave Maro’s presence and hopefully put him out of Moritz’ mind and the conversation. To further steer them away from him as subject matter, Autumn whistled and called Naymon’s name into House, then turned back to Moritz as she waited for a response. “You’ve been learning to fight? That’s good. Was that your idea or your mom’s?” She thought about that idea for a moment, then, “What’s your favorite thing you’ve learned so far? If you could choose to learn one thing, what would it be?”

There was no immediate response from a dog anywhere though an odd spikey cat blinked into existence in the room, glanced in irritation at the ones who dared to call it, then blinked away again. Autumn tried another whistle.

[Moritz Craven]

Mortiz shrugged at the ghosts response, not seeing a need to do more.

"Most of that is true enough. As for trouble... I suppose that depends on who you are speaking of. My mother has her own way things should be done, which doesn't often agree with my own. Which I suppose would be trouble, when we disagree."

For a moment Moritz thought back to a few seasons prior, when he had first visited his current school. His mother lashing out at him with words. Because he was not fully obedient. Because he questioned. Because he wanted to know why, not just blindly do as he was told. He had forgotten now what he had even said or asked, or what his mother had said or told him, but her reaction was still fresh in his mind. It had not been that long ago, and yet he felt like he had been so much younger then. Which, he supposed, he had been.

"As for love... I suppose she loves me, my sister, her family, in her own way. Though love and understanding, those are two very different things."

The thought of his mother in the past was an odd one for Moritz. The same, but different. Would the same be said of him, in years to come? Would he stay who he was now, or would he change? Would he stay the same, and should he? He felt if nothing else his reasoning, his logic, was good, was sound, though new information as he aged would enhance that. Knowledge was good. But reasoning, thinking, those he hoped would not change. That he would stay true to who he was as he grew and became older.

"She still seems driven to me, from what I have seen of her. As for power, she's always been strong in her ways as long as I've known her. So perhaps that has changed, as she has grown skills."

As the spirit spoke more he noticed something different about her. Her soulmist was... Active. Like a cloud of smoke blown by the wind, not just sitting there like a normal cloud but... Active. Her soulmist almost seemed to... Swirl. Was the ghost possibly... Agitated? Just as her soulmist physically appeared agitated? He had not known that was a thing that occurred with ghosts, but in hindsight it made sense. From her physical appearance and her words it did seem she was somewhat agitated.

At the ghosts explanation, he found an understanding of why she might be agitated. It was an odd explanation. The young boy Maro was now young. But when the ghost met him, the boy was older. Had grown up along with her. And then he died. And then somehow he was not dead, but alive again. But alive as a younger boy rather than as he had been before.

Moritz considered this, the truth of the ghosts words, her story, and though he felt it was missing something he felt that the missing thing was also missing from Autumn. Not a lie perhaps, or so he felt, but an explanation without full understanding.

If someone asked him why the sky was blue, he did not doubt there was a reason, but he did not know why it was. And if he tried to explain, his not being able to would not be a lie.

Shrugging, Moritz accepted the ghosts story tentatively.

"Odd things happen sometimes. Just because you can't explain it doesn't mean you never will, nor that there isn't an explanation. Though that would certainly be odd. I mean Etheafal die and come back different but the same. If that happens, maybe there is an explanation of how Maro died and came back new. I can't explain why the sky is blue. That doesn't make it any less true. But maybe if I work at it, to understand it, someday I will understand it and be able to explain it."

Moritz, having nonchalantly accepted tentatively the ghosts story, continued to listen to her words. While he had been rather calm and easygoing at that explanation, the next bit did peak him a bit. Her words touched on a cord within him, rising some anger at the thought. But after a moment he took a few breaths, calming himself and pushing such things away. In, and out. In, and out. Once he had cleared his head Moritz thought on what the woman had said, and extrapolated from that. If what she said was true... Then based on that... Then this also... And that meant this...

"So... This woman, took Maro. As a slave. But somehow he was brought back to life, but... Missing part of who he was. The... Him, of who he was. Your reasoning, that this Luthis woman had something to do with making Maro as he is seems logical. She seems to be the only one profiting out of things. And if she did not do it, then surely she knows who did or got him from someone who would know more. But... You said you would undo what she did. Would that be undoing bringing him back to life? Or undoing how he is now? Because that is the real question. Was bringing him back, but only half, part of how she managed to bring him back? Or did she bring him back, and then lessen him or take away part of him... Of the two options, I think the former is more likely, rather than the latter. Though I suppose there could be other ways it worked, or was done. But... I think you should consider that the first may be true. In which case undoing what she did, might just make him as he was before, dead, not as he was before he died. Something to consider. Of course I could be wrong, it is just a logical supposition from what you said. But logical all the same from what you said."

After finishing talking on Maro Moritz watched Autumns soulmist. As she calmed, so did her soulmist seem to. It was not something he had noticed before today, but having noticed it so clearly when she was so agitated it was much easier to see now. Something he would look out for in the future.

As the two left the kitchen, Moritz called for the dog as well, but did not see any reaction. Of course he had not had much time to train Naymon, and so perhaps she was simply not used to answering when her new name was called.

Calling out for Naymon as well Moritz walked along, looking around into each corner and cranny of the house as they moved.

"My mother wanted me to go to school. And when she brought that up, I wanted to learn how to fight. And we ran into misses Kyra that same day we first went to the school. So we made a deal, that I would get to do both. I... Wanted... Want... To learn how to fight. To protect myself, and also the ones I care for."

Her question on his favorite thing was an odd one for Moritz, unsure what she meant.

"My... Favorite thing? I... Don't know. I just learn what misses Kyra tells me to do. She is a skilled fighter, so knows better about such things, of what it is safe for me to do or not do. I question many things, but when an expert speaks on something they know well, I usually cede to them. I... Don't dislike learning how to fight, but I don't know that I like it either. I just... Want to learn. The thing is what I want, to learn, the how is less important."

Continuing to search around, Moritz checked for any sign of Naymon. He was started to wonder if the dog was even still in the house, but they did still have many areas to check.

WC: 1,326